Comfort of a Man (Arabesque) (16 page)

I
n early November, Evan surprised Brooklyn when he attended Sunday morning church service. Before she knew it, she heard their names whispered from the lips of people around them. It was Jaleel’s first appearance in the choir since his accident, and she quickly assumed Evan came for support. But when he joined her and Toni in their pew, her suspicion changed.

The moment service ended, Sister Loretha swooshed up to them like a hawk after its prey. “I knew you two would get back together,” she gushed. “I can’t tell you how good it does my heart to see you guys as a family again.”

Before Brooklyn corrected her, Evan cut in. “Thank you, Sister. Sometimes it takes a tragedy to get you to realize what you’ve lost.”

Brooklyn elbowed him.

“Amen,” Sister Loretha said with a grand show of approval.

But Brooklyn could tell she was just dying to know what had happened to Isaiah. When she’d brought him to church this summer, Loretha positively fawned over him.

However, Big Trouble Freddie quickly joined the group, and Brooklyn felt the beginnings of a headache.

“My brother, my brother.” Freddie pounded Evan hard on the back. “It’s good to see that you’ve finally come to your senses.”

“Better late than never, I always say.” Evan laughed and swung his arm around Brooklyn.

She elbowed him again and impaled him with a murderous glare before turning her emotionless smile toward Freddie and Sister Loretha. “Actually, we’re just—”

“Here to support Jaleel.” Evan squeezed her shoulder.

She caught his hint to roll with everyone’s assumptions. Most likely it was because he didn’t want to be embarrassed by the truth. But what about the embarrassment he’d caused her? She jabbed him again.

Evan lowered his arm.

Freddie rocked his enormous weight on the balls of his feet as he laughed. “You know, I was a little worried when I saw Brooklyn and that gray-eyed pretty boy in
here this summer. You couldn’t have slid a slip of paper between them, I tell ya. And this is the Lord’s house, too.” He chuckled.

Evan’s smile disappeared.

Sister Loretha’s mocha complexion turned a deep burgundy as her eyes darted uneasily around the small group. “Well, it’s good seeing you both. I have a few things I need to discuss with the reverend before he leaves.” She smiled awkwardly and avoided eye contact with Freddie.

Brooklyn’s quick prayer for help was answered when Toni and Brian appeared at her side.

Freddie quickly excused himself, while Toni muttered “Pimp” from behind him.

“I’m starting to see why you can’t stand that man,” Evan said, glowering.

Toni huffed and crossed her arms. “It’ll take a lot more than fancy clothes and a bottle of anointing oil for him to impress me.”

Jaleel joined the group with the use of his cane. The long, jagged scar above his left ear was still visible. His extensive hours with the physical therapist had paid off, and he was beginning to move about like his former self.

Brooklyn leaned over and kissed him. “Honey, you looked great up there.”

“You sure did.” Evan moved closer and draped his arm around his son.

Jaleel thanked them though his face flushed with embarrassment. “Are you ready to go home, Mom?”

“Sure.”

“Well, I was thinking we could all go out for lunch together,” Evan said with a confident smile.

Brooklyn hesitated. “Not today. We have a lot to do this evening.”

The rejection stole the radiance from Evan’s face.

Thanksgiving Day

I
saiah returned to Atlanta. It was, after all, tradition. So far, despite his best effort, Isaiah had been unable to convince his mother to move to Austin, and she protested against any talk of his moving to Atlanta on her account. So in the end, they’d developed a stalemate.

At the door, Georgia greeted him with an exuberant smile along with a houseful of guests.

Being back in Atlanta, Isaiah’s thoughts of Brooklyn multiplied, and his urge to see her again consumed him. More than once, his mother caught him with his mind wandering.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” she asked, finding him off in a corner.

He turned from the window and flashed her a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Mom. Just thinking about work,” he lied. “It doesn’t help that I lost my cell phone at the airport.”

She smiled. “You know, dinner won’t start for another hour or so. Why don’t you go out for a drive or something? It’ll clear your head.”

He caught the hint and laughed. But when he opened his mouth to decline the suggestion, no words came out. He had to see Brooklyn, even if it was from a distance. “Maybe a drive is just what I need.”

Brooklyn’s sanity was in serious jeopardy. While her mother preached second chances, Toni lectured on the opposite. Through it all, no one asked what Brooklyn wanted or how she felt—and she was sick of it.

As the three women rushed to get dinner on the table, Brooklyn blocked out the women’s incessant chatter. Why had she invited Evan for Thanksgiving dinner, especially when she’d invited her parents? Everyone had the wrong idea—including Evan.

Brian arrived and brought his tried-and-true potato salad, while Jaleel’s girlfriend, Theresa, showed up with a sweet potato pie. That made six pies and counting.

“I swear I spend the whole year working off the damage I do between Thanksgiving and New Year’s,”
Toni mumbled under her breath as she nibbled from the tray of hors d’ouvres.

Brooklyn smiled. “If I get through this night, it’ll be a miracle.” A hand landed on her shoulder, and she turned toward a smiling Jaleel.

“You need any help in here?” he asked.

“No. I think we have everything.” She marveled over how handsome he looked. To her, he no longer held a youthful innocence in his features. He’d seemed to age years in a matter of months. Toni picked up a few trays and took them out to the guests.

“Are you all right, Mom?”

Her smile weakened at the question. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, but the gesture did nothing to alleviate the seriousness of his expression. “I don’t know. Are you happy?”

Her smile flat-lined. “Yes, of course.” She shrugged. “The family is all here, and you’re doing great.” She gestured at his tall stance. “Look at you. You’re not using your cane today.”

His gaze lowered as if she hadn’t truly answered his question. “You don’t have to do it for me, you know,” he said, lifting his eyes again. “I heard you talking to Grandma earlier. If you do care for someone else, then don’t go back to Dad for me.”

Brooklyn held his intense gaze until she felt the sting of tears. “You’re a good son.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well, I do what I can.” He leaned over and kissed her before grabbing the bowl of three-bean salad and waltzing out to the table.

A few minutes later, Evan’s parents showed up, and Jaleel stole their attention, to Brooklyn’s great relief.

Needing a few minutes of reprieve before dinner, she sneaked outside. The cold, late-autumn air cleared her mind instantly as she drew in a breath and closed her eyes. Isaiah smiled back from her memory and said, “Nothing is impossible.”

She opened her eyes just as a car approached and pulled up to claim the last spot in the driveway. “Hello, Brooke.”

“Hi, Evan,” she said, walking out to greet him.

Stepping out of his car, he immediately enveloped her into his arms and placed a small kiss against her cheek. “I’m sorry I’m late. There was a small emergency at the hospital. Is everyone inside?”

“Yep.”

“I guess that’s why you’re out here.”

She laughed. “Yep.” She quivered from the cold.

Evan removed his leather jacket and draped it around her shoulders.

“Thanks,” she said, surprised by his gallantry.

“You used to like the holidays.”

“Hmmph.” She shook her head. “I used to like a lot of things. Time has a way of changing a person.”

He studied her. “You’re talking about us, aren’t you?”

She nodded, and then made sure she met his gaze. “We can never go back, Evan. You have to know that.”

His eyes turned toward the sky as pain pinched his features.

She went on. “We’ll always have a common bond through Jaleel, but we don’t have a future.”

Evan nodded, and she could see the sheen of tears in his eyes.

“It’s just as well,” he said. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“Oh, I forgive you.” She lifted her chin. “I had to in order to move on.” She laughed at what she’d just said. “Someone told me that once, and he was right, but I want us to be friends. After all, we do have a son, and we’re always going to be a part of his life.”

He listened and then confessed, “I don’t know how to be alone.” He met her gaze again. “You were right about that.”

She shook her head and reflected over the past two years. “You’ll do fine.”

He looked doubtful. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Are you still in love with him?”

She felt the threat of tears surface while she weighed telling him the truth. “Yes.”

He sighed and draped an arm around her shoulders. “Then he’s a lucky man.”

Isaiah watched Brooklyn and Evan as they walked arm-in-arm back into the house before he started his car and drove away.

I
n early December, Brooklyn’s schedule grew even more hectic. Her days were never long enough, and her nights remained haunted by a gray-eyed lover, which was why she dozed off in the waiting room of Gwinnett Hospital during Jaleel’s physical therapy appointment.

Her exhaustion stemmed from constantly trying to be in three places at one time: work, home, and the hospital. With her annual trip to New York just two weeks away, she gave serious thought to whether she should even bother going this year.

She stirred at the light tap on her shoulder and reluctantly tried to wake up. She blocked a wide yawn with her hand as her eyes fluttered open to greet her son,
but she was instead startled to see a smiling Georgia Washington. “Hi,” Brooklyn said, suddenly alert.

“It looks like someone didn’t get enough sleep,” Georgia said, laughing.

Brooklyn’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Something like that.” She flashed her a smile in an attempt to mask the awkward tension. “So, how have you been?”

Georgia’s smile brightened as she sat in the plastic chair next to Brooklyn. “Oh, I guess I can’t complain. How about yourself?”

“Same, I guess,” Brooklyn answered evasively. Georgia held her smile even as her eyes seemed to dissect Brooklyn’s farcical expression.

“And how is your son doing?” Georgia finally asked, her voice maintaining its sincerity.

“Great.” Brooklyn shifted in her chair. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being in the witness stand and that at any moment she was going to trap herself in a lie. At the same time, it was killing her not to inquire about Isaiah.

“And you and your husband’s reconciliation—how’s that going?”

“What?” The question burst from Brooklyn with a note of amusement.

Georgia’s smile faltered as her brows gathered to reflect her confusion. “You two aren’t getting back together?”

“Heavens, no.” Brooklyn shook her head and almost
asked what had given Georgia such an idea, when the memory of Isaiah’s letter floated back to her consciousness. “So what brings you here? Are you feeling all right?” she asked instead, in an attempt to shift the conversation from her.

Georgia waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, heavens, yes. I’m fine. Though I can’t convince Isaiah otherwise.” There. She’d said his name. Georgia watched Brooklyn with the intensity of a hawk.

Brooklyn’s mistake came when she broke eye contact. But the other choice would have been to allow Georgia to see the sudden gloss to her eyes.

Georgia’s soft chuckle recaptured Brooklyn’s attention.

“Pride is never your friend when it comes to love, honey. I’d have thought you and Isaiah would’ve learned that by now.”

Brooklyn’s heart squeezed while another wave of tears embarrassed her by sliding from her eyes. “You have an amazing knack for making complicated matters seem so simple.”

“Or…you guys have an amazing ability to make something so simple complicated.” She smiled. “Since you’re not going to ask, I’ll tell you this: He’s miserable without you.”

Brooklyn closed her eyes, overwhelmed by how much that little information affected her.

“Do you love him?” Georgia asked in a near whisper.

Brooklyn’s eyes fluttered open. It was time for her to
be honest—with Georgia and with herself. “More than anything.”

“Great.” Georgia draped an arm around Brooklyn’s shoulders and squeezed with more strength than Brooklyn thought her capable. “Get out a pen—I think it’s past time you had Isaiah’s home number. I have a feeling he would be happy to hear from you.”

Delta flight number 22 from Charles De Gaulle International Airport felt like the longest flight in history, thanks to the child with the healthy lungs in the back of the plane. Isaiah had popped his last two Excedrin more than an hour before and his temples still throbbed with the force of a jackhammer. He tried meditating, counting, and praying, but the child continued to wail. Finally, he turned his attention to the large clouds below the plane and tried to concentrate on how beautiful the sky appeared.

“Isaiah?”

Startled from his reverie, he jerked his head around and was surprised to see Cadence smiling back at him. God’s sense of humor had just turned wicked.

“I knew it was you.” Her eyes sparkled back at him before she gestured to the vacant seat next to him. “Mind if I join you?”

Isaiah opened his mouth, but she chose not to wait for an answer and dropped into the seat next to him.

“Let me guess. You’re on your way home from another business trip.”

He forced a plastic smile as the screaming kid showed his first sign of tiring. “You know me.”

“Better than you ever gave me credit for.” Her direct gaze held his, and then, as though an afterthought, she smiled. “How long have you been gone this time?”

He drew in a deep breath. “Since the day after Thanksgiving.”

“Nearly three weeks?”

“Yep,” he responded with a plastic smile.

“I guess that sort of tells me why I couldn’t reach you two weeks ago. I threw your uncle a surprise birthday party. I think he would have liked it if you had come.”

“I’ve lost my cell phone. I haven’t had a chance to replace it yet.” Even if he had it, he doubted he would have attended the party.

“You know, you’re all your uncle has left of his younger brother. You could try to be a little kinder toward him.”

Isaiah’s temples throbbed harder as Cadence managed to make him feel guilty.

“So,” she went on as if she hadn’t noticed his silence, “I heard through the grapevine you were suffering from a broken heart.”

Isaiah didn’t have time to hide his shock. “Who told you that?”

“Randall.”

He closed his eyes and cursed his friend’s indiscretion. “Randall has a big mouth.”

“No news flash there,” she agreed, her smile broadening.

Isaiah’s eyes narrowed. “Is that the real reason you came over here—to gloat?”

Cadence opened her mouth, no doubt to deny such a thing, but then appeared to have thought better of it. “Maybe you know me pretty well, too.”

He nodded and could feel his smile turn genuine.

“So who is the lucky woman?”

“You expect me to tell you?”

“I don’t see why not. We have at least four more hours on this flight, and I don’t have anything better to do.” She smiled again.

He shook his head and looked straight ahead. The funny thing was, Isaiah began to believe her friendly attitude toward him was sincere. “Why would you want to hear about it—other than to gloat? I was under the distinct impression that you hated me.” From the corner of his eyes, he caught her light shrug and smile.

“I wouldn’t say that I hate you…exactly.”

He faced her again. “Oh?” He laughed as he crossed his arms. “What exactly would you say?”

“I would say that I’ve been angry with you for a long time—too long, in fact.”

Isaiah lowered his gaze, unsure of what he should say. He drew in a deep breath. “Her name is Brooklyn Douglas,” he finally said with his lips curling into a smile again.

To Cadence’s credit, she continued to look at him. “And you’re in love with her?”

He squirmed in his seat. The awkwardness of having this conversation with her wasn’t easy to ignore. “Yeah.”

If the conversation bothered Cadence, she did a good job of hiding it. “Does she know how you feel, or is it some great secret?”

He cut a narrowed look in her direction. “What is that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. Just that when we were together, you kept your emotions close to your vest.”

He let go of the edginess he held in his voice. “I’m sorry about that.”

She reached over and touched his hand. “Don’t be. It was a long time ago. And whether you choose to believe it or not, I’m quite happy with the man I married.”

Isaiah studied her. “You really love him?”

“More than life itself,” she answered without hesitation.

He covered her hand with his. “In that case, I’m happy for you.”

“Great. So what’s the problem?”

“Who said there was a problem?”

She stared at him and waited.

Isaiah shrugged as he released an exaggerated sigh. “I don’t know what I was thinking. It would’ve never worked out. I’m married to my job, remember?”

“Painfully.”

He frowned. “I got caught up in a fantasy and playing a game I had no business playing.”

“Randall said you were simply waiting for her to call.”

He rolled his eyes and made a mental note to kill his good friend. "Well, he was wrong. After having so much time to reflect, my walking away was the best thing for both of us. At this point, I don't think a call would do it. It's over."