Authors: Sandra Kitt
Jason calmly continued eating. “Leah is not a functional idiot or a child, and I’m not a racist. Well, maybe I am a little.” he wiped his mouth slowly with his napkin and then looked squarely at Gail. “I really hate black people who hate white people who hate black people. It never ends, know what I mean?”
Leah and Gail just sat staring at him, neither of them knowing what to say next. Leah could see that her sister was in shock. This was a first. Leah knew suddenly that she had never in her life seen her sister speechless. It was quite a novelty.
Jason put his napkin down, feeling the oppressing silence beginning to weigh on him. He felt tired and edgy. He’d run into people like Gail before. He was just sorry that this particular person had to be someone related to Leah. He was really pleased that Leah had even thought to invite him for dinner. It would probably be the last time.
He looked at Leah, who cautiously returned his questioning glance. “Should I keep eating or would you like me to leave now?”
Surprisingly, Leah began to grin. “I would like you to stay. I’m anxious to see what else is going to happen tonight.”
Gail gave Leah a murderous look, but calmly picked up her fork to finish her dinner. “A little competition is good for the soul,” she murmured. “If Allen can survive, so can I.”
The reference to Allen made Leah wince. She glanced at Jason but found him biting into a buttered slice of homemade rosemary bread.
“You’re a good cook,” he said to her.
“Thanks,” Leah murmured, half expecting her sister to say something rude.
“It runs in the family,” Gail commented.
That was it.
“Can I have the recipe for the bread?” Jason asked Leah.
She raised her brows and laughed lightly. “Do you cook?”
Jason grinned. “No. But aren’t you supposed to ask for recipes when you go to someone’s house for dinner? It’s a compliment or something.”
Leah shook her head at him and smiled. She loved the way he just bounced back. “I’ll give you a doggy bag. You can take the rest with you. The recipe is a family secret.”
“And it’s not authentic soul food,” Gail said dryly. “In case you thought it was.”
Leah sighed. The truce was over.
“I didn’t,” Jason said easily, helping himself to another slice.
By the end of the evening, however, Leah was feeling let down. She didn’t know what she’d expected dinner to be like, but certainly not the undeclared war between her sister and Jason. And she’d somehow thought it would be more cozy, more like when she and Jason were out together alone. After dinner, she and Gail cleared the table and Jason entertained himself with music from the CD player and another beer in the living room.
He could hear the conversation, or rather the debate between the two women, coming from the kitchen. He stayed put. Jason was girding himself for the next round with Leah’s sister, but unexpectedly Gail made a surprisingly discreet retreat when she was finished in the kitchen.
She sashayed into the living room, where Jason was looking at framed photographs arranged atop a piano. Leah was right behind her.
“Well,” Gail sighed dramatically, “I’ve been told, in so many words, to mind my own business and to act nice. I can take a hint. I’m going to my room, so behave yourselves. I don’t want to have to call the cops.”
Jason and Leah silently watched Gail’s seductive ascent up the stairs. Jason let out a low, long whistle and turned to Leah. “She’s a real firecracker.”
“Gail has always been right up front and believes in speaking her mind. Even when she shouldn’t.”
“That’s okay. At least I know where I stand with her.”
Leah was puzzled. “You do?”
“Not too close,” Jason finished dryly.
Leah started to laugh. Jason was pleased that he’d managed that. He watched Leah for a moment, finding new things about her that he liked. Her hair had a kind of loose, twisty waviness to it, full and thick. She had a slender neck and small shoulders. Smallish breasts.
Jason’s silent examination was making Leah nervous again, he could see, but he said nothing to her. Finally Leah turned and sat on the sofa. He smiled. She wasn’t ready to end the evening, either. He followed Leah to the sofa but didn’t sit too close. He lit a cigarette not because he really wanted one but because he needed something to do with his hands. He looked at Leah thoughtfully.
“Gail’s very different from you.”
“You noticed,” Leah said with a laugh. “She’s very strong. Very together. I wish I could be more like her.”
Jason shook his head in disagreement. “She could stand to be a little more like you. Nice. Soft.”
“A marshmallow?” she suggested flippantly.
Jason grinned. “Not at all. You’re too hard on yourself. You’re not that soft. But you have more … humanity.”
Leah started to fidget. She didn’t know what he meant. If it was a compliment, it made her feel strange.
Jason looked around the room. “This is a nice brownstone. It’s got great details.”
Leah glanced around. “I love this house. It actually belonged to an old spinster aunt. She left it jointly to Gail and me when she died.”
“Where are your parents?”
“There’s only my dad. He’s from Illinois originally. When he retired he wanted to move back there. Gail and I have our lives here.”
Jason nodded, glancing around. “Is the stairwell real oak?”
“The floors, too. There are six stained glass windows on the upper floors.”
“I’d like to see them sometime.”
The offhand comment made Leah look closely at Jason. She’d assumed that after what he’d been through with Gail, the last place he’d want to see again was the inside of this house. She quickly changed the subject.
“Have you decided what you’re doing for Christmas?”
“I don’t know. Maybe go to my sister’s.”
His answer was terse, and it was apparent to Leah that he didn’t want to talk about the holidays. She remembered he was supposed to have spent it with his son.
“Is your sister married?” she asked.
He smiled fondly. “Very. She’s got four kids. Her husband, Nick, is a great guy.”
When Jason looked at her again, Leah felt a jolt through her body. She knew exactly what was going through his mind just then. She saw in Jason’s eyes that loneliness and lingering pain, the kind that comes with loving people and then losing them. Was Jason thinking of Michael? Or his ex-wife?
But it was also frightening, that look. She knew instinctively it had less to do with loss than it did with hopefulness, wishful thinking. Need. Somewhere in this look Leah knew their relationship had changed again. She found that she couldn’t look away from it. Jason couldn’t, either. He reached out, and just touched her hand.
“I gotta go,” he suddenly whispered, his eyes searching for something in her face. He got up abruptly, putting the beer bottle on the coffee table, and walked slowly to the door to retrieve his coat. He knew that Leah was following. “Thanks for dinner. It was nice. Tell your sister she missed her calling. Does Al Sharpton know about her?”
“I’m glad you could come,” Leah said, feeling slightly depressed. She didn’t really know why. “And I hope you have a good holiday. No matter where you spend it.” She opened the door.
Jason turned to face her in the small entrance foyer. He pushed the door closed again. Leah couldn’t see his face completely in the shadowed darkness of that spot, but she knew he was staring at her. She knew what was going to happen. The only question was whether or not she wanted it to happen. Jason took hold of her upper arms and began to pull her toward him. He bent to kiss her cheek.
All evening she had tried to treat Jason as nothing more than an invited guest to her home. A friend. But when he touched her, Leah felt a spark of anticipation ignite inside her. There was so much tension she could barely breathe.
His lips on her cheek began a journey toward her mouth, but Leah wouldn’t let him. She didn’t think she could bear that raw, naked feeling that would come with his kiss. She put both hands on Jason’s chest and pushed him away.
“Jason, no …” She shook her head, lowering her gaze. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to get involved.”
He lifted his head but didn’t release her. “We’re not involved. Who’s Allen?”
The shift was jarring, and Leah squeezed her eyes closed for a second to focus her brain. “Allen …” She took a deep breath. She couldn’t think straight. “He’s my, er, I … he’s someone I’ve been dating for a while.”
Even as she said the words Jason bent forward again to kiss the corner of her mouth. Her lips briefly. He stroked her cheek.
“Is it serious?”
The calm of his question, the absurdity of the situation, immediately annoyed Leah. She stepped out of Jason’s reach, jerking her head away from his hand. “If it was serious you wouldn’t be here.”
Unexpectedly Jason smiled at her. He reached behind his back and opened the door. He quickly leaned to kiss her cheek again, and before Leah could recover he was through the door and halfway down the steps.
“Wait a minute!” Leah ordered with a spurt of anger. “You never say good-bye. You just walk away.”
Jason looked up at her from the foot of the stairs. He put on his red baseball cap. “This isn’t good-bye. Merry Christmas, Leah.”
Leah watched him walk away before she muttered a very satisfying oath under her breath. She stepped inside and shut the door soundly.
L
EAH SAT IN FRONT
of the mirror and stared at herself. She saw a thin toffee-colored face dominated by a pair of sable eyes. Her hair, literally her crowning glory, was thick with highlights of red. This morning it was wild and tangled, but it added a certain sensuality to her face. Her nose was short, her mouth nicely shaped for her face. It was a pretty face, so she’d been told. But beyond the features she still wondered what people saw when they looked at her. Did they see a young woman who was attractive? Did they see someone with a history, questions, and doubts? Or did they just see someone black?
Leah examined herself thoroughly in the mirror as though she’d never seen herself before. She was well proportioned and everything functioned. Why, then, did she get so many different responses from so many different men?
Philip’s unexplained rejection of her had done much to undermine her sense of being just a woman, albeit a very young one. Leah had no particular ill feelings toward Ron. She attributed that failed relationship to too little experience and know-how on her part for someone like him. Ron had been focused on something more important to himself than she had been. Some ideology that was impossible to compete with. The man in the stairwell that time had had a face. It was connected to a person whom Leah didn’t know and who didn’t know her. Nonetheless, he’d left a profound mark on her life. For as long as Leah continued to have the dream,
he
would be like some poor distant relative who remained unmentioned and in the shadows of her existence.
Allen?
Allen she’d had more hope for, but they’d spent two years in a netherland-like limbo where any depth of feelings, and future, had never been stimulated or encouraged.
And then there was Jason.
Standing naked in front of her mirror, Leah closed her eyes and sighed. She thought of Jason’s sorrow, of his sense of humor, which set off her own. Of his attention to her, which made her feel special. Of her attention to him, which was more than curiosity. She very much needed to feel special in
someone’s
life. What did it mean … what
could
it mean that that someone was Jason?
She hugged herself against the cold morning air. Goose bumps rose on her skin. She kept her eyes closed and allowed herself the memory of Jason holding and kissing her. She had no right to welcome it. He had no right to offer it. Or had he? What was he doing in her life to confuse her all over again?
Last night in her dreams she’d run miles again, in a murky tunnel with that man hot in pursuit. She could no longer tell if he was closer or father away, but he was behind her, and he still held the knife. It seemed like such an effort to outrun him, to outsmart him in one corridor and then another. Her body had gotten so much heavier and slower since the last time he’d tried to catch her.
In her head Leah imagined the grating pitch of his laugh, and it got more hysterical, louder in her ears. She was still in a maze and she ran along the hall again, heading toward the tunnel opening. He wasn’t close to her yet, and she felt that maybe this time she could get down the corridor and head toward the entrance. She was elated. It was getting easier. The light at the opening was directly in front of her. Her hand reached out before her, stretching beyond its natural length. Her heart pounded. Oh, God, she was going to make it. Her fingers touched the sun. But another hand, one from behind her, tapped on her shoulder.
“No, no …”
Just a few more inches and she would have been free.
“No. No …” Leah moaned in her sleep.
“Leah, wake up. Wake up!” Gail ordered softly, shaking her sister’s shoulder.
Leah rolled onto her back as the dream slipped away. Her heart raced. She forced her eyes open and stared into the frowning face of her sister. She collapsed against the pillows. “Was I … crying out again?”
“It’s all right.”
“I thought I …”
“Bad dreams?”
Leah silently nodded.
“I thought we’d outgrown those. You’ve been having a lot of them lately, haven’t you? Do you know I can hear you groaning from the next room?”
“I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“What’s wrong? What’s causing these awful dreams?”
Leah didn’t answer.
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.” Leah shook her head sharply. “I’m awake now. Really. I’ll be all right.”
“Why don’t we do something together?” Gail suggested brightly.
“What do you mean, something?”
Gail narrowed her eyes and considered. “I don’t know. A play? Or you can come to our office party. The head buyer gives great gifts.” Gail straightened abruptly. “Or let’s do our Christmas shopping together.”
Leah blinked at her, trying to focus on the present, the question, and her sister’s proposal. They hated shopping together. She smiled crookedly.