Blindsided (Indigo Love Spectrum) (24 page)

“The heart knows what it wants.”

“But sometimes your heart wants the wrong thing. I
can’t get with that ‘It’s better to have loved and lost’ ide
ology. I could have gone my whole life without feeling
that pain. Why would I willingly put myself in the posi
tion to feel it again?”

“Because you love him. You love him and it scares you
to death. You can’t keep this truth from me.”

Dahlia held Flora’s hand in hers. “Okay, you’re right,
Grandma, I am scared. But I can handle the fear I’ve placed on myself a lot better than I can the hurt some b
ody places on me. I chose this fear, and it keeps me alert.
That’s why I know, as hard as it is, I can live with the
decision I’ve made to end things with Norris. It’s the best thing I can do for myself.” She kissed her grandmother’s
cheek. “Thank you for letting me talk, for listening, and
for not judging me.”

“It’s not for me or anyone else to judge you. I only
want you to be happy.”

“I am.” Dahlia bobbed her head from side to side.
“Mostly.” She kissed Flora again. “Thanks for the food and everything, Grandma. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, but I’m worried about you.” Flora
moved over to the counter and sliced several large pieces
of cake. “You talk big, but I know you. You feel things
deeply, child. Hurt, sadness, happiness, and love. You
won’t be able to pretend you don’t feel what you feel. And
if this man loves you as much as it appears he does, he’ll
see your feelings in your eyes. Just like I do.”

Dahlia said nothing to that. Norris always said he
could see her love for him in her eyes, but then he gave
up on her. Maybe it was just words. Another man feeding
her lines. Dahlia wanted some chips. She needed her
comfort food.

Flora wrapped the cake in aluminum foil and handed
it to Dahlia. “This is for you and Reese,” she said. “Thank you.”

Flora pulled Dahlia into a hug. “You take care, child.”

Dahlia nodded and managed a smile. Once she got
hold of some chips, she’d be able to take care of herself
very well. d

“Right over there,” said Norris, directing three guys wearing green polo shirts stitched with “Denburg Inn” to
his mother’s luggage. “Make sure you don’t leave anything.”

“Yes, sir,” answered the larger of the three men.

Minutes later, the men, the bags, and all traces of his
mother were gone. Norris thought back to last night and
his mother’s reaction to hearing about Reese. She had
said very little after repeating, “This isn’t funny, Norris,”
several times. Once convinced it wasn’t a joke,
Genevieve had grabbed her purse, explained she would
send for her things, and stormed out. Norris hadn’t
expected her to take the news well, but it didn’t lessen
the hurt he felt at being right. She had a granddaughter
and couldn’t care less.

Dahlia had wondered if his parents’ reaction to Reese
would be any different than what they’d shown Lara.
He’d thought it would. He had thought blood would be
the difference. So far with his mother, he’d been proven
wrong. And countless calls to his father went unan
swered, showing the separated spouses were probably of
one mind when it came to this issue. Norris shrugged it off. Their loss.

At least his siblings were excited. He’d engaged in an
impromptu conference call with Lane and Julia the night
of the brunch, and they couldn’t wait to meet Reese. He’d
even told them about Dahlia. Plans for an extended visit
were in the works, and they’d ended the call with a
promise to get better at keeping in touch.

N
orris picked up his phone. Who better to keep in
touch with than his daughter? Maybe Reese was up for
lunch.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hi, Reese, it’s Norris.”

“Oh, hi.” Norris heard paper rattling in the back
ground. “What’s up?” Reese asked.

He tried not to be put off by her lack of enthusiasm. “Are you busy?” he asked. “You seem distracted.”

“I’m studying. Got a big test on Tuesday.”

“How long have you been at it?”

“It’s a little after noon now, so about fours hours.”
Norris whistled, impressed. “Aren’t you the studious
one?”

“I have to be. Columbia’s within my sight.”

“How about food? When was the last time you ate?”

“I had some OJ when I got back to Dahlia’s this
morning.”

Norris’s ears perked up. “You’re back at Dahlia’s? I
thought you were staying over with Diana.”

“I can hang out with her later. I needed to study.”

“Is Dahlia helping you?” he asked, playing sly in his attempt to gather information.

“No, I’m studying alone. Dahlia went to church.”

“Church?” Probably praying for escape from her love
for him, Norris reasoned. “She’s not back yet?”

“She called to say she was having lunch with her
grandmother. Why are you wondering about Dahlia?”

“
I’m . . . I’m not,” he stammered. “I just don’t like the
idea of you being alone in a new place.”

“I’ve been here before. The visit is just longer now.
Besides, I’m sixteen, not six. I can be alone.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just . . . Do you want to go out
for lunch? I know you’re studying, but you have to take a break sometime. And orange juice isn’t a meal. You can’t
study on an empty stomach. We’ll go wherever you
want.”

Reese said nothing for several moments. “I guess we
can have lunch,” she finally said.

“Great. I can be over in half an hour.”

“Half an hour?” Reese scoffed. “I’m going to need
longer than that. Beauty takes time.”

“You’re already beautiful, Reese.”

“I know this,” she said, her confidence never
wavering. “Still, I have an image to maintain. I can be ready in an hour.”

Norris smiled. “Okay, you win. I’ll be there in an
hour.” He hung up the phone.
One hour.
With any luck, Dahlia would be home when he arrived, and he could see
for himself if she still wanted to keep things all business.

* * *

“Everything smells so good,” Reese said.

Norris nodded in agreement. “I think Corlino’s
Kitchen has some of the best food in town,” he said.

Having been shown to a table near the front of the
restaurant, Norris and Reese sat and perused the menus
i
n companionable silence. Gail’s wedding, exams, and Reese’s plans for the summer had dominated conversa
tion on the ride over, but bummed by Dahlia not being
home, Norris did more listening than talking.

He stared blankly at the menu, his thoughts on
Dahlia. She had a close relationship with her grand
mother. Could their lunchtime conversation be about him? Gladness peppered his dour demeanor. He could
see that taking a long time. Norris smiled, feeling a lot
better. That could definitely be the hold up.

“What are you grinning about, Norris?” Reese asked,
her voice shaking him from his reverie.

“Happy thoughts,” he said. “You know what you’re
having?”

“Yeah. I think I’ll go for the fettuccine alfredo.”

Norris closed his menu. “I think I’ll have the same.”

A blue-eyed, brown-haired waiter arrived at the table
with two glasses of ice water and a smile. Introducing
himself as Mike, he offered the customary Corlino’s
Kitchen greeting and proceeded to give Reese all of his
attention. Norris could understand young men finding
his daughter attractive, but he wasn’t at all happy with the
lustful look in Mike’s eyes.

“Do you have our orders, Mike?” Norris asked,
hearing the testiness he’d tried to keep out of his voice.

Mike cleared his throat and met Norris’s gaze. “Yes,
sir,” he answered nervously. “Two fettuccine alfredos.”
He placed the order pad in his pocket and retrieved the
menus. “I’ll be right back with some breadsticks.”

“
Thanks.” Norris draped the napkin over his lap as
Mike retreated to the kitchen.

Reese frowned. “That was mean.”

“What?”

“You intimidated him. I don’t think I’ve ever heard
‘thanks’ sound like an insult.”

“I asked about our food.”

Reese groaned. “Gimme a break.”

“That boy was practically drooling on you.”

“It’s a natural response.” Reese tossed her straightened
hair over her shoulder. “He can’t help it. I’ve discovered I
have that effect on men.”

“You were flirting with him. And don’t try to deny it,
because I know flirting when I see it.”

“Flirting is harmless fun.”

Norris shuddered. The more time he spent with
Reese, the more of himself he saw in her, and the more he wondered if that was such a good thing.

“Men are like dogs in a lot of ways,” Reese said. “And
Mike’s young, so he’s like a puppy dog. You pat then on
the head, make them feel valued, and then they’ll trot off
with a wagging tail. It’s like paying a compliment. My
public service to the male population.” She laughed.
“Besides, I’ve seen Mike around school and he’s nice
enough, but I’m not interested in him. So, don’t worry,
Norris, I have it under control.”

Mike returned with a basket of hot breadsticks and
placed it in the center of the table. “Here you go,” he
said, flashing Norris a tight, nervous smile.

Reese touched the boy’s shaky hand. “Thanks, Mike.”

T
he tightness disappeared from Mike’s smile as his
gaze met Reese’s. “You’re welcome,” he said.

Norris cleared his throat, loudly. “That’ll be all,” he
said.

Mike moved on to another table.

Reese shook her head. “You can’t help yourself, can
you?”

“No, I guess not.” He plucked a steaming breadstick
from the basket and dropped it on his plate. “Look, this fatherhood thing is new to me, so you’ll have to bear with
me.”

“Having a father is new for me. We still know so little
about each other.”

Norris reached across the table, closing his hand over
hers. “That’s why we’re doing this. We’ve learned some
things already. I know you’re smart as a whip, you like
basketball, and you’re not short on feelings of self worth.”
He laughed. “That’s a start. You’ve met my closest
friends, you’ve been to my condo and office, and you
know a few of my likes and dislikes. We’re on our way.”
Reese pulled her bottom lip into her mouth. “What? Is there something you want to ask me?”

“Yeah, there is. Mom’s accused me of lacking tact on
occasion, so I’m going to apologize before I ask this if the
question comes out wrong.”

Norris took a bite of the breadstick, not crazy about that preface. “Okay,” he said, drinking some water.

“Is my mother the only black woman you’ve dated?”

“No,” he answered, not overly stunned by the
question.

“
Are you one of those white guys who have a thing for
black women?”

Norris blinked. That question surprised him, and
Reese didn’t even know about his feelings for Dahlia yet.
He drank more water.

“Look, I’m only asking because, well, it begs to be
asked,” Reese said. “Your place is loaded with African art.
You’re European blueblood, not exactly a commonality there, and your best friend is married to a black woman. Birds of a feather.”