Like Slow Sweet Molasses (38 page)

“Close
to a nervous breakdown.” Her emotions were hard to shut down. “His occupation
frightens me. I thought I could learn to live with it because I love him so,
Daddy. Just the thought of the danger he’s in—all of the time—I—I can’t take
it.”

“So
you ran away,” he summarized expecting her to fight.

“Yes.
I ran away. I packed what I could carry, hired a property manager and put my
home on the market.” She hated to say it aloud. “Without talking to him or his
aunt about my intent, I showed what a coward I am by doing a Houdini.”

“I
suppose you haven’t talked to Brock since you’ve been here,” he guessed.

“He
probably hates me by now.”

“Cookie,
when a man loves a woman with his whole heart, he might not understand the
logic that drives the decisions she makes, but he permits allowances for her
emotional upheaval. Call him. Talk it through.”

“I
can’t change, Daddy. And I don’t expect him to change his profession. Neither
of us would be happy.”

“Then
I guess running away was the best thing to do.” Her look was one of shock. “I
defer to your decision to give up on love because it’s too difficult, too scary
and someone might get hurt subjecting the other to a life of misery alone on
this earth. Not that you aren’t miserable and alone as things stand.”

“As
things stand,” she was mad he had the gall to vocalize her inner thoughts, “I’m
miserable, he’s alive and I won’t be there to see him get hurt.”

The
fatherly advice kept coming. “Remember one thing,” he stopped for a breath,
time to have her teeter to his point-of-view, “everything in this world is
worth fighting for if it’s of any value. Isn’t the love you share worth the
trouble to find out?”

“It’s
too late.”

“You
said you put your
home
on the market.
Home
. You’re connected to
New Orleans whether Brock’s in the mix or not.”

“I’m
not brave enough—”

Lee
sliced her self-deprecating sentiment to shreds. “Angela, you went to New
Orleans, a city in raw turmoil, when most looked for a way of escape. That was
brave…and a bit foolish…but brave, in my book.”

The
study door opened in concert with the cell ringing in Lee’s pocket. He answered
his call. Angela—her mother.

“Shut
up in here. You two are up to something.”

Lee
excused himself from the caller, “Cookie and I were catching up, Doll. You,
ladies have to pardon me for a moment.” He blotted the mouthpiece with his
thumb. “An important call.”

“You’re
on medical leave, professor. No business calls for you.” His wife reached to
take the cell coming up short on the try. “Five minutes. That’s how long it’ll
be before I come back in here.”

“Five
minutes…starting from the time the door closes behind you.” He struck a deal.

Connie
held up five fingers as she pulled the door on their way out. “Are you alright,
Cookie?”

“I’m
fine, Mama.”

Connie
had Angela’s face in a vise. “You’re lying to me.”

Angela
disputed, “I don’t want to spoil your good time or put a damper on your mood
with my penny-anny problems.”

“Brock.”
Saying that one word altered her daughter’s features. “What happened?”

“Everyone
immediately expects the worst of him. Daddy. And now you. Why?”

“That’s
not true, Cookie. It’s not Brock. It’s you.”

She
was bowled over. “Me?”

“You’ve
fought your attraction to him from the very first. It’s safer to keep him at
bay than completely give in to love because you’d have to open yourself up to
hurt, again.”

Angela’s
thoughts carried her to the front window to fiddle with the ornaments as if
they required adjusting. The beautiful spruce calmed her—a fraction—while also
symbolizing hope for the future. Aromatic pine needles released their fragrance
as she played with the branches. She couldn’t resist switching the timer to the
on
position bringing the multi-colored bulbs to life, charging her low
mental batteries simultaneously.

Pots
clanged, breaking into her meditative spirit, while teasing smells declared
those in the kitchen champs at their profession. “The house looks wonderful,
Mama,” she complimented Connie’s handiwork at decorating, meeting her concerned
look and smiling.

“Lee
means well and wants the best for you in a fatherly fashion. But, I’m your
mother. If being in love with Brock brings you pain reminiscent of what you
encountered with Dom, move on.”

“In
his defense, Mama, I’m the wishy-washy one.” Angela tugged her robe closer to
her body. “Chance has offered me nothing less than one hundred percent of
himself, shelving all the worries I create about our being together…that
included the differences in our races…with his strenuous convictions and loving
patience. Honestly, I’m afraid of losing him. Not in the same way as Dominick.
To the unknowns of his job.”

“And
you retreat in fear that he’ll expire on the job.”

Angela
shuddered at the thought.

“Your
plane got you here in one piece and didn’t crash. What about losing a life
during the normal routine of living life?” She tipped to her daughter’s side.
“You’re not living life, Cookie. Now, you’re merely existing. Love him or leave
him—completely. Let him go on with his life.”

Angela
saw the light at the end of the tunnel and it wasn’t a train. “I’ll call him
later today.”

“There’s
no time like the present.”

She
headed towards the stairs. “I have to think first.”

“Don’t
put it off too long,” Connie urged, fast-walking to the study where Lee
remained caged.

Angela
hovered on the stairs to spy into the kitchen at the hubbub emitting lively
noises of preparation. The rest of her steps propelled her into her room and
straight to the window that looked out back over the ice encrusted lake. Her
dilemma boiled down to which emotion would rule her life: love or fear. All the
snippets of advice they handed down guided her to this fork in the road. Tired
of thinking, she whirled for the phone choosing group activity over solitude
and setup a get reacquainted romp with a friend from college. Youth and
intelligence buoyed her selection of an outfit from her closet and she boarded
herself in the bathroom.

A
super quick shower, the light coverage of makeup, clothed in attractive, yet,
warm slacks and turtleneck sweater—she was ready to take on the world. Angela
tucked thick hair behind her ears to fit the pepper-red knitted hat on her head
for the excursion to the mall. Chicago’s winds could chill parts of anatomy,
left arrogantly unprotected, down to the bone in a matter of seconds. That’s
why she sat on the edge of the bed to stuff her heavily wrapped feet into a
pair of weatherproof booted heels. One last check of her reflection in the
mirror and she swiped up her long coat on her way out the door.

Because
she needed transportation but not necessarily a fight to acquire any, she
tipped into her parents’ bedroom first and lifted Lee’s keys from his change
plate on their dresser. The calve-length coat covered her frame as she dashed
down the stairs, purse swinging wildly on her shoulder from the motion, and
butted into the study where they abruptly stopped all conversation at her
commotion.

“Going
someplace?” Lee asked, a smile twitching at his lips.

“To
the mall,” she answered, slithering over to him to plant a syrupy kiss on his
cheek, backing away as she confessed. “I have your keys.”

“Why
am I not surprised?”

Connie
put in her two cents. “Why? You’ve got her rotten, that’s why.” To Angela,
“Don’t be gone all afternoon.”

 
“Do you need my help with anything before I
go?” Guilt surfaced. “Need me to pick up anything from the store?”

“I’ll
call if I do,” her mother said.

“Uh,
you can’t call me. I disconnected my cell.”

“What?”
they chorused.

“Here,
take mine,” Lee offered.

“No,
that’s alright. Eliminates the chances of unwanted phone calls before I’m ready
to talk.”

“Take
it in case something happens and you need assistance,” her mother put in.

“I’m
like Patti LaBelle—you know the song you like so much, Mama, about a new
attitude. That’s me. I won’t pine away for something not meant to be. No-o-o,
you can’t keep a smart woman down.”

Connie
and Lee looked at each other, their expressions telling a story of doubt and
awareness of overcompensation on Angela’s part.

“Gotta
go,” she preened saucily, popping over to tribute each with another so-long
kiss.

“Be
careful.”

“I
will.”

An
incredible feeling welcomed her as she skipped out through the kitchen to get
in Lee’s SUV. Climbing onboard, Angela cranked the motor, buckled up and chose
another station on the radio that inspired the individuality and
crunk
out
of her.

“Goldie!”

“Cookie,
you look marvelous, girl!”

“So
do you.” Angela complimented her longtime friend, noting the optimism for which
she was known glittered in her eyes, as usual. People would react to her name
thinking about her complexion until they saw her. The name was a reflection of
her golden outlook on life. Their embrace sent shoppers on alternate routes
around them.

“I
haven’t heard from you in ages.” Goldie’s brilliant smile shed some of its
opulence. “Not since your divor—” She halted. “What have you been up to?”

“Teaching
children how to enjoy music. And you?” She grasped her hands and swung them
between them. “Last I heard from the eternal bachelorette—she climbed the
corporate ladder of success, money and power.”

“Haven’t
hit the glass ceiling, yet, Cookie, and love the thrill of competition to stay
at the top. However,” she veered to a set of benches when Angela started to the
restaurant’s door, “about that bachelorette comment…I want you to meet
someone.”

Angela
bobbed to see who Goldie beckoned to across the atrium practically squealing in
gladness as a hunk of a man in military uniform walked their way and he was not
alone.

“This
is my family.” Goldie glided in their direction taking the toddler in her arms.
“Cookie, this is my husband—Tobias and our son, TJ.”

“Goldie—you
are full of surprises.” Angela greeted Tobias with awe in her voice. “It’s so
good to meet you.” She gazed at her friend whose love shimmered brightly on her
face. “I’m so happy for you two. And little TJ is a doll.”

“I’m
glad to talk to you in person because I feel badly about excluding you from our
wedding,” Goldie explained.

Tobias
jumped in. “Our introduction happened about the same time as your spilt,
Angela. Goldie agonized over how you’d react to our good fortune in finding one
another when your life took such a turn.”

Stepping
back with flair, “As you can see—I survived to love another day.”
What did
she just say? And why did she say that at all?
Those were the questions
plaguing Angela at her loose lips.

Goldie
and little TJ hugged her. “You’re saying you have a beau?”

Oh,
my God. I did.
Aloud, she said, “One I adore.”

“You
belong with someone who makes you happy, Cookie. Look at Tobias and I. Our time
is limited to this go round of military leave. I look forward to every minute
we have together and take nothing for granted.”

Angela
teared up.

“Don’t
cry for us,” Goldie reassured.

“That
makes us appreciate what we have for as long as we have it,” Tobias seconded
his wife’s words.

“I
don’t know what to say other than I…am…thrilled. For someone who staunchly
opposed matrimony to not only get married but have a family. I know there’s
hope for me to love again with my whole heart.” It was her turn to hug them.
“Thanks for the inspiration, Goldie.”

If
that wasn’t proof enough true love conquers all—she was living on a dead planet
on the wrong side of the black hole.