Wishing Lake (15 page)

Finally, Simon looked away. “I’ll move to the family room. There’s a TV in there anyway. I can watch the game.”

Crisis averted. Darius was almost weak with relief. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Ethel gasped. “You’re going to leave me by
myself
and go off with your
father
?
Typical
.”

Darius frowned. “You came by yourself.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to
stay
by myself.”

“Then mingle, Mom. I’m going to watch what’s left of the game.” Darius headed back to the kitchen and his friends.

“Everything OK?” Megan asked Darius.

“Yes. What did I miss?” Darius reclaimed his brownie.

Despite Megan, Ean, Ms. Helen, and Alonzo’s obvious concern, they once again allowed Darius to change the subject.

“You didn’t miss much, although Doreen’s been gone a little longer than usual.” Alonzo frowned in the direction of the front door.

Darius finished his brownie and nudged Ean. “Let’s go see what’s taking your mother so long.”

Alonzo led Darius, Megan, and Ean out of the kitchen and across the living room toward the front door. The heavy, cool breeze rushing down the hallway toward them indicated the entrance was still open. Darius’s curiosity spiked. Muffled voices floated toward him.

“Nessa, you’re welcome to come in and enjoy some refreshments. But I won’t allow you to insult me in my own home.” This was Doreen’s voice.

Without speaking, the group picked up their pace.

“Is something wrong?” Alonzo stopped beside Doreen in the front doorway.

Nessa surveyed the sheriff. “Alonzo, are you hosting this get-together with Doreen?”

“Doreen doesn’t need much help.” Alonzo had his game face on, making his thoughts difficult to read.

“Just like a married couple.” Nessa pursed her lips. “But without the benefit of the blessing. Are there plans to make this little setup official?”

Darius felt the sting of the councilwoman’s words as though they were directed at him. “Why are you in such a rush to get them married, Nessa?”

“Who left the door open?” Ms. Helen’s querulous question preceded the older woman’s approach. She made a place for herself between Darius and Alonzo. “Nessa? What are you doing here?”

“I’d hoped to share some fellowship with my neighbors.” Nessa folded her hands over the brown purse hanging from her left shoulder.

“Fellowship?” Ms. Helen gave a soft chuckle. “I know what you’re doing, Nessa.”

“I beg your pardon?” Nessa gave the older woman a pious look.

Ms. Helen’s expression hardened. “This is a friendly gathering. You’re not welcome to bring your poison here.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nessa gaped.

“No?” Ms. Helen nudged Doreen’s hand from the doorknob. “Go home and pray on it. It’ll come to you.” Ms. Helen closed the door in Nessa’s face, then secured the lock.

Darius ended the stunned silence. “Ms. Helen, why did you do that?”

Ms. Helen shrugged. “Somebody had to make a decision. Doreen was letting all the heat out.”

Doreen gestured toward the closed door. “I was trying to handle Nessa diplomatically. I have to work with her when I take office in January.”

“Blame it on me, dear.” Ms. Helen patted Doreen’s back. “But someone had to save you from yourself.”

Darius offered Ms. Helen his left arm. “There’s never a dull moment with you. Let’s get you into the kitchen. It’s warmer in there.”

“This isn’t funny.” Doreen walked with them. “Slamming my door in Nessa’s face isn’t going to improve my relationship with her.”

Darius swallowed an inappropriate laugh. To have seen the look on Nessa’s face . . .

“Ms. Helen’s right. Nessa wasn’t here for fellowship.” Darius escorted Ms. Helen to the kitchen table. “But we do need to know what she’s up to.”

Doreen crossed to the oven. “I’ve been racking my brain, but I can’t think of a thing.”

“We’ll all have to keep thinking about it.” Ms. Helen released Darius’s arm as she sank onto one of the blond wood chairs at the matching kitchen table. “Meanwhile, when are you and Peyton going to stop wasting time and start working on the fundraiser for the community center?”

“As soon as she returns from New York.” Darius leaned his hip against the yellow-and-white marble kitchen counter.

Ms. Helen nodded her satisfaction. “Good. It took you two long enough.”

Darius frowned. The twinkle in his elderly friend’s eyes made him uneasy. “Ms. Helen, are you the one behind the town’s matchmaking schemes?”

“Don’t you think I have better things to do?” Which wasn’t exactly an answer.

God save him from well-meaning friends. Judging by their self-satisfied expressions, you’d think working together on the fundraiser put Peyton and him one step from the altar.

But it wasn’t the fundraising committee that scared him. It was the physical attraction that intensified each time he saw the little professor that had him questioning his decision to cochair the committee.

Would he be able to resist her? Did he really want to?

Alonzo studied the shadows moving across his bedroom ceiling Friday night. He’d spent so many years dreaming of having Doreen in his bed, her naked body pressed to his. Even after five months, he still couldn’t believe his dream had come true.

He tightened his embrace, drawing her even closer to his side. Her firm, slender limbs were sprawled across his in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Her breaths were soft against his chest. Alonzo turned his head and placed a kiss on her hair. It was like silk beneath his lips. She smelled like spring flowers.

“Am I dreaming?” His pulse had returned to normal as his body cooled. But now his heart was racing again. Nerves.

“Maybe we both are.” She whispered back with a smile in her voice.

Why was he so anxious? In his law enforcement career, he’d confronted armed sociopaths without a qualm. But the idea of asking the love of his life to marry him filled him with panic. He feared her rejection more than a bullet.

“Doreen, I’m going to retire next December, at the end of my term.” That had sounded more romantic in his mind.

Doreen untangled her limbs from his and leaned back to look up at him. “Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

“I can afford to retire now.” He met her dark eyes in the shadows. “I’m not rich, but I have money saved and good investments. I can afford to take care of myself. And someone else.”

“You don’t think you’ll get bored?”

“Not with you.” He stroked her knitted eyebrows with the pads of his left fingers, coaxing her to relax. “Besides, this will give me more time to volunteer for community projects. And you can teach me how to run the cash register so I can help fill in for you when you need to take care of your mayoral duties.”

Doreen smiled. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course.” Alonzo frowned at the surprise in her voice. “We’re partners, remember? In my entire life, I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you.”

“You make me happy, too.” Doreen cupped the side of his face with her small, soft hand.

Alonzo pressed a kiss into her palm. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Doreen tensed within his embrace. “Alonzo—”

“Marry me, please, Doreen. You’d make me the happiest man on the planet if you’d agree to be my wife.” Alonzo remained still, returning her gaze as Doreen searched his face.

“Is this about what Nessa said yesterday during our Thanksgiving open house?”

Out of all the scenarios he’d prepared for, that response wasn’t among them. “Of course not.”

Doreen wiggled free, tugging the bedsheets and blanket with her. She sat back against his headboard. “I’m not going to allow Nessa or anyone to pressure me into getting married.”

It was as though she hadn’t heard him. “I’m not pressuring you. I’m proposing.”

“Marriage isn’t something to be taken lightly.”

“So I’ve heard.” Alonzo pushed himself up to sit beside her. He was suddenly aware of the chill in the room.

“As much as I loved Paul, marriage is a lot of work.”

“I’m sure it is.”

Doreen gave him a hard stare. “Are you mocking me?”

“No, Doreen. I’m telling you that I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“But we don’t have to be married to do that.” Doreen clutched the sheet to her chest with one fist. “Forget Nessa. She’s not the morality police.”

“This isn’t about Nessa.” The pain in his chest was sharp, hot and deep, making it difficult to speak. “It’s about you and me, and the fact that I’ve wanted to marry you for more than forty years.”

“Alonzo, I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know? Whether you love me? Whether you want to spend the rest of your life with me or whether you want to marry me?”

She looked stricken. “I care about you.”

“You said that to me forty years ago.” Alonzo threw back the covers and marched to his closet. He grabbed his robe from one of the hooks and tugged it on. “I care about you, too, Doreen. I care so much that I want to be your husband. I want you to be my wife. What is it that you want?”

“I need time to think.”

Was he rushing her? Doreen’s husband of more than thirty years had died less than two years ago. Maybe he was being impatient.

“You’re right.” Alonzo belted his robe. He turned toward the door. “I’m sorry I rushed you.”

“Where are you going?”

Alonzo spoke over his shoulder. “I need a glass of water.”

More than that, he needed time to handle his disappointment. Doreen hadn’t rejected him. She’d just put him on hold. But how much more time would she need to realize they were each other’s happily-ever-after? What more could he do or say to convince her?

“Are you free for lunch, son?” Simon’s voice came from behind Darius.

Surprised, he turned to face his father, who stood in the entrance to his cubicle at the
Monitor
’s office Monday morning. Darius’s mind had been a million miles away. Well, not a million. The Guiding Light Community Center was only seven miles away. That’s where Darius was meeting Peyton at eleven-thirty. After a tour of the center, they were having lunch at Books & Bakery.

“I’m afraid not. I have other plans.” Darius stood and shrugged into his coat.

“Are you having lunch with your mother?” Simon sounded hopeful.

Darius rubbed his eyes with his thumb and two fingers. His parents’ relationship had gone from bad to almost intolerable. He’d thought things would get better if they weren’t together. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

“I’m meeting Peyton for lunch. We’re cochairing the committee to raise money for the community center.” Darius buttoned his black wool topcoat. It was the first of December. Temperatures had nosedived over Thanksgiving weekend.

“I didn’t know you were cochairing a fundraiser. How long have you been working on it?”

“This is our first meeting.” Darius was uncomfortable with Simon’s sudden interest in his life after thirty-four years.

“Oh.” Simon stepped farther into the cubicle. “Well, how many people are in the group?”

“We haven’t asked for volunteers yet.” Darius had a sense of foreboding.

“I’d be happy to help.” Simon rocked on his heels as though he’d solved all of Darius’s problems. His father didn’t seem to realize he was one of them.

“You’ve never served on a committee before.” In fact, his father had never volunteered for anything.

“There’s a first time for everything, son.”

“We need people who are willing to work hard. This fundraiser needs to move fast. We want to raise a lot of money in a short amount of time.”

“Then I’m your man.”

Somehow Darius had a hard time believing that. “This is strictly a volunteer assignment. No one’s getting paid.”

“I know.”

Darius eyed the older man suspiciously. “Then why do you want to do this?”

Simon’s gaze slid away from Darius and wandered around the office space. What was his father looking for? There wasn’t anything of a personal nature in his cubicle: no certificates, awards, photos, or knickknacks. Just a bunch of project folders, reference books, two coffee mugs, and a guest chair he’d pilfered from an empty cubicle. Darius didn’t know why he’d made the decision to keep his cubicle impersonal. He just preferred it that way.

His father faced him again. “I’m bored.”

“Then clean your apartment.”

“I did.”

“I’m glad.” And very, very surprised.

“I got caught up with all my bills. I even went grocery shopping.” Simon made a face. “I’m not looking forward to doing that again.”

Darius paused. “Have you ever gone to the grocery store before?”

Simon shoved his hands into the front pockets of his gray winter coat. He jiggled the coins he kept in there. “About thirty-four years ago.”

Darius shouldn’t have been surprised. Growing up, he’d known who was in charge of the Knight family household, and it hadn’t been his father. Ethel must have felt as though she were a single mother with two children instead of a married woman raising a son with the help of another responsible adult.

He checked his watch. “I’d better get going.”

Simon held up a hand. “What about my helping with the fundraiser?”

How could he get out of this? “Peyton and I need to put together a group of people with various skills. How much experience do you have working with a project team?”

“Are you kidding?” Simon raised his brows. “I had a lot of coworkers when I worked for the post office. I know how to work with other people.”

How well had he worked with those people? Darius remembered his father coming home, complaining nonstop about everyone, from supervisors to customers.

“What skills would you bring to this fundraiser?”

Simon cocked his head. “Are you interviewing me for a job? I’m your father. Put me on the committee.”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“It should.”

Darius checked his Timex again. He was going to be late. “I’m sorry you’re bored. But there are other things you can do.”
Things that don’t involve me.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” Darius shrugged, spreading his arms wide. “Get a part-time job. Take up a hobby.”

“I want to work on the fundraiser.”

“Why?”

“You said I never got to know my family, that I was just a boarder in the house with you and your mother. I spent a lot of time this weekend thinking over what you said. I want a chance to correct that. This would give me that opportunity.”

Trapped by his own words. But was Simon sincere about making amends for past mistakes?

“All right.” Darius took a leap of faith. “You can be on the committee.”

With luck, he wouldn’t regret this decision.

Darius found Peyton sitting with Ms. Helen in the Guiding Light Community Center lobby. Her expression was warm and relaxed as she laughed at something the older woman had said. His heart squeezed.

She looked cool and professional in an orange sweater and dark green slacks. Minimal makeup accented her high cheekbones and her caramel eyes. Her mass of bright copper curls framed her heart-shaped face.

Peyton smiled as he approached. “Hi.”

“Sorry I’m late.” Darius kissed Ms. Helen’s cheek, then offered his arm to assist her to her feet.

He turned to Peyton. Should he kiss her, too? Perhaps not yet, not here. Their last night together came back in heated detail. Darius pushed his fists into the pockets of his black winter coat.

“I’ve only just arrived myself.” Peyton stood.

“We’ve been getting to know each other better.” Ms. Helen smiled at Peyton. “But in the interest of time, we should get started on the tour.” She led them across the lobby. “The first thing you should know about the center is that it opened January tenth, 1975.”

Darius and Peyton followed Ms. Helen into the activity room. Darius had been eighteen the last time he’d been in the center. Over the past sixteen years, the facilities had grown worn and much worse for wear. But otherwise the center was clean and cared for, and seemed more or less the same.

The large, rectangular activity room was the size of a ballroom but resembled a high school gym. Darius, Ean, Quincy, Jackson, and Vaughn used to play basketball here in the winter. The hardwood floor gleamed. The air was bloated with wood polish and antiseptic. At the front end of the room, four basketball hoops were suspended from the ceiling. Bins full of basketballs and volleyballs lined the near wall. Across the room were Ping-Pong and gaming tables as well as exercise equipment.

Peyton led them along the perimeter, pausing occasionally to skim the bulletin boards, check the locked supply cabinets, and test the water fountains. “What did the town do before the community center was built?”

Ms. Helen took them across the activity room to an exit door on the other side. “What most communities do—we relied on our churches and schools for our programs. But as Trinity Falls grew, the community had greater needs.”

“Such as what?” Peyton smiled her thanks as Darius held the door open for her and Ms. Helen to precede him into the study hall.

“Reemployment training.” Ms. Helen stopped in the middle of the study hall.

Darius stood beside Peyton. “The center allowed the town to provide technology training for adults and students. It also provides an opportunity for youth sports and senior programming.”

“And health and wellness programs for all ages,” Ms. Helen added.

Peyton adjusted her bag on her shoulder. “The center is even more critical to the community than I originally thought.”

Considering he’d directly benefited from the center, Darius regretted that he hadn’t paid more attention to its needs. He’d rectify that in the future, starting with his participation in the fundraiser.

Ms. Helen concluded the tour by introducing Peyton and Darius to the center’s director and some of its volunteers. They were thrilled about the fundraiser and anxious to help in any way they could.

Darius followed Peyton and Ms. Helen back to the lobby. He turned to Ms. Helen. “Are you sure you won’t join us for lunch at Books and Bakery?”

Ms. Helen looked from him to Peyton and back. Her brown eyes twinkled. “I’m having lunch with some friends here at the center. You two go and enjoy yourselves.”

Darius kissed the elderly lady’s cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

About thirty minutes later, Darius and Peyton were seated at a table at Books & Bakery after ordering chicken soups and turkey with provolone sandwiches. Darius had ignored the knowing looks from Doreen, Ean, Megan, and Ramona.

“I had an idea for the fundraiser while Ms. Helen was giving us a tour of the center.” Peyton dug into her soup.