Lights Out (15 page)

He stepped into her living room. The carpet felt soft to his feet as he wiggled his sock-clad toes and stretched his arms above his head. He turned to find her gazing at him. He turned away, fighting not to respond to the desire he saw in her eyes. He needed female, he thought, and soon. He moved over to the couch, taking in more of the clutter he now knew was Piper.

Magazines lay on the sofa and books were stacked on the floor and on the large, chest-like coffee table. He walked over and picked up a book. “Creole Peoples of Color,” he said, reading the title out loud. “Creoles?”

“My people, my mother’s people, anyway, originally from Louisiana, migrated to an area north of Houston,” she said.

“Oh,” he said, setting it down and reading the titles of some other books. There were a couple of political science books along with a few romance novels. He fingered a couple.

“Creoles are still African-American?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Well, it depends…it’s complicated.”

Joe looked confused, but let it go.

“Do you want anything to drink while you wait?”

“How about some of whatever that is I smell,” he asked, turning toward her, his nose in the air, sniffing. His stomach growled, loud in the silence between them. He placed the book back on the table.

“Hungry, huh?” she asked.

“Starving. Nothing since lunch,” he said, giving her another tired smile.

“Well, I guess I could feed you,” she said, turning and walking down the hall that led to the kitchen. He followed her, taking in her grey sweats pants, loosely hanging off her hips, New Orleans Jazz Festival t-shirt on her upper body, feet bare, yellow toenails with red and white stripes and hair in one huge puff resting on the top of her head. He’d always found her sexy, and still did, very much so. Music played softly from somewhere; he couldn’t locate its source.

“You really like your music.”

“Yes, the music of my childhood. The early part, anyway,” she said, entering her kitchen.

“What’s for dinner?” he asked, walking behind her to the stove, lifting the top from a pot, bending his head. His smile widened at the aroma. His stomach growled loudly again.

“Gumbo and rice, one of my favorites, and, lucky for you, a house specialty. Better lose the tie, though,” she said.

He removed it from his neck and laid in on the table before sliding over to the sink where she stood, standing a little behind her.

“Need to wash my hands,” he said, smiling, stepping to stand next to her, hitting her with his hip, bumping her out of the way. She’d bet he knew the effect he had on her. There was a small smile on his lips as she watched him soap and wash. She handed him a towel to dry.

“Thanks,” he said, turning and moving back to the table.

“Your kitchen fits with the rest of your house; it’s lived in,” he said, taking a seat at the wooden kitchen table, round in shape, resting on a tiled floor. Wood cabinets hung on light green walls.

“I try. If you can’t be comfortable at home, what’s the point?” she said, reaching for a bowl from the cabinet. She filled it with rice, followed by a ladle full of gumbo. She placed it in front of him and gave him a spoon and a napkin. He smiled and began eating. She sliced some bread she’d made earlier and placed it on the table before him. Well, actually the bread machine made it, but she put the bread mix in.

“Thanks. This is good.”

“Want something to drink?”

“Sure. What are my options?”

“Soda, wine, beer.”

“I’ll take a beer, if you’ll sit with me.”

“Okay.” She grabbed a beer and then turned and pulled a wine glass from another cabinet. She poured a glass of wine for herself and took the seat next to him, pulling her legs into her chair. She took a sip from her glass. She smiled. He looked at her, his face studying hers.

“Piper Renee Knight,” he said.

“That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.”

He chuckled. “Piper’s an unusual name,” he said, putting another spoonful of gumbo into his mouth, closing his eyes at the taste. “That’s really good.”

“My mother’s contribution,” she replied.

He looked up, a question in his eye.

“The name. My name is my mother’s clever idea. She met my father after a boxing match, hung around for a while, became his latest arm candy. After a time, as he did in those days, he moved on and left her with the ultimate gift. Me. My mother had to move back home to Raywood, Texas, near Houston, to give birth to me. Not what she’d had in mind,” she added, watching as he took in another mouthful.

“Anyway, after I was born and after about a month of living with her parents she went in search of my father. She had named me Piper, as in ‘it’s time to pay the piper,’ you know from the kid’s story, the Pied Piper,” she said.

He nodded.

“Anyway, my dad needed to step up and take care of his baby, but, more importantly, he needed to take care of his baby momma, which was more of what she had in mind.”

He couldn’t detect any rancor in her voice as she relayed that bit of history to him.

“You seem to be okay with the way it turned out,” he said, taking in another spoonful, closing his eyes at the taste of her food. His eyes closed in pleasure. It was a nice look for him.

“What can you do? You get what you get in life and make the best of it, or not. It’s a choice, always a choice,” she said.

“Is that what you do, make the best of it or not? What you’re doing with your sisters?” he asked, eyes opening to look at her.

“I guess so. I’ve been making the best of things as far back as I can remember. Plus, I know what it’s like when adults don’t have their shit together and the kids are in the middle of it. If I can help them, I will,” she said.

“Where’s your mother now?” he asked as his hand dropped the last of his bread into the bowl to sop up the remains.

“Like that, huh?” she said laughing softly, and watched as he smiled.

“Very good,” he said, putting his napkin on the table while he reached for his beer.

“To answer your question, she lives in Paris, the City of Lights, married. No more children, though,” she said.

“No anger?” he asked, looking at her.

“It is what it is, and anyway, what could I have done to change her? Why sweat what you can’t fix?”

He nodded and watched her as he tilted his head back to take a long swig of his beer.

“That’s one way to look at it,” he said when he was done, catching her eyes on him. She turned away, embarrassed at being caught staring.

“It works for me,” she said.

She was pretty tonight. He’d started to view her that way now. Not beautiful, no, but more appealing to him the more he learned of her. She sat next to him, one foot in her chair, twirling her wine glass in her hand, casual and easy. He’d found her easy to be around, uncomplicated, easy to work with, easy to laugh with. He was reluctantly developing a fondness for easy, and that was scary.

“I’m impressed at how well you are managing,” he said.

“You do what you do, right? You know that. You’ve got Shane. I’m no different from you.”

“Okay. So how’d you get into the coffee making business?” he asked, changing the subject.

“I went to college in Atlanta. I wanted to be away from my dad. I needed my space. I came back here for graduate school, received my MBA from the U of H. My dad’s first wife lived in Houston,” she said.

“How many wives did your father have?” he asked, curious now.

“Three, not including mine. He didn’t marry my mother,” she said, unable to read his expression. “Anyways, after graduate school I decided to work for myself, but wasn’t sure doing what. I was sitting in a coffee shop one day and it seemed so sterile, not like I would have done it at all.

“I went to my dad with a plan for the shop on Fifty-fifth Street. He helped with the financing. Next to boxing, business was my dad’s second love. He told me I should avoid banks, if I could. Easy for him to say. He was the big-time boxer, plus he saved. He’d always been fiscally sharp and frugal like you wouldn’t believe. Anyways, I’d saved some of my own money and we purchased the first shop together. I saved more and bought him out of the first one, with the help of my mother’s guilt money, which I had no trouble using. I had to take out a loan for the second shop,” she said.

They heard footsteps coming down the stairs. The dogs trotted into the room first, followed by an excited Shane, Taylor, and Ken.

“Hey, Uncle Joe. We had a blast today. The movie was great. Did you like the gumbo? We all pitched in—me, Piper, Taylor, and Ken. I can make it at home for dinner one night if you want,” he said, talking a mile a minute.

“We will have to try it,” Joe said, pushing back from the table, standing up and reaching for his tie. He placed it back around his neck.

“That was delicious. Thanks. Well, we’d better get going. You’ve got the shop in the morning, right?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied, standing up too, taking his bowl and putting it in the sink. She turned to walk them to the front door.

Ken, who had been rooting around in the pantry, now walked over to the table with a box of cookies in her hand. “Taylor, can you get me a glass of milk?” she asked.

“Nope.”

Ken stood up, glaring at her sister as she grabbed a glass from the cabinet and milk from the refrigerator.

“Want some, Shane?” she asked, blatant in her attempt to ignore her sister and prolong her time with her new love.

“Maybe next time,” Joe said, smiling at Ken, who winked back at him. He laughed.

“Okay, then, we’ll be on our way.”

“Okay, then,” she said, walking them to the door.

She and Taylor watched as the males made their way to their car. Piper looked over to find Taylor staring at her, assessing her.

“Don’t get a crush on him, Piper,” she said, arms crossed, serious. “Shane says he has lots of girlfriends.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, moving to make sure the door was locked.

* * *

She was going to shoot the person who’d come up with the idea of children bringing their pets to school to be blessed. The Blessing of the Pets was an annual ceremony at the kids’ school, a tribute to St. Francis of Assisi, the patron saint of the poor and animals. Today she was in charge of corralling McKenzie—not hard—and Pepper—the most difficult—and bringing them to school for the kids.

Of course, McKenzie cooperated. Pepper, on the other hand, had seen the other animals—dogs and this one cat—and had gone crazy in the car and wouldn’t settle down for anything. So here she stood, McKenzie on his leash waiting patiently by her side, while Pepper had yet to settle down enough for Piper to get her leash on.

“Pepper, calm down. You can’t go without your leash. Please?” Of course, Pepper wasn’t listening.

“Need some help?” Joe asked, startling her. He stood beside her, laughter in his eyes, apparently having heard all of her dog talk. Piper glanced at his two animals, a dog currently sitting smartly at his feet, and something big and scaly in a cage he was holding in his hand.

“She won’t cooperate enough for me to put her leash on,” she said, looking at Pepper, who was barking furiously through the window at a cat held in a woman’s arms.

“Let me try,” Joe said, handing his cage over to her. Piper’s eyes moved from the cage to Joe.

“What is it?” she asked.

“A gecko.”

“Oh,” she said. “It doesn’t look like that talking gecko on that insurance commercial, the cute green one with the English accent.” He smiled at that.

“He won’t bite and he can’t come through glass. Just hold the cage. I can’t help you if you don’t.”

She took the cage from his hand and watched as he bent to the window.

“Pepper,” he called out. The little dog turned, startled out of her barking by this new, yet familiar face. She ran across the back seat, sticking her head out the window, licking Joe’s face, apparently pleased as punch to see him.

“Where’s her leash?” he said, reaching out his hand toward Piper. She put the leash into it. She heard Joe snap it in place. He opened the door and Pepper scampered down, walking over to his dog, sniffing away, but not barking anymore.

“Can you wait with me for a second? I need to lock up my car. Can I set this down?” she asked, lifting up the cage with the lizard in it.

“Sure,” he answered, bending down to reacquaint himself with his friend Pepper.

He absently rubbed the dog, but his eyes were fixed on Piper as he followed her ass as it swayed side to side in her jeans. Piper reached for her purse, trying to decide if she needed it. The two dogs and a purse were maybe more than she could handle. She pushed it down on the floorboard in the back seat, set her alarm, and walked back over to Joe.

“Thanks for helping me.”

“You’re welcome.”

They led their animals into the school, taking the left that would bring them to Taylor and Shane’s homeroom. She could have dropped off Pepper first, but she didn’t want to leave Joe just yet.