Playing For Keeps (19 page)

“I'm so glad you had a good time, Mama Claudette! I was nervous!”

“So was I but that was just so much fun!”

Cilla nodded. “I don't know about you but I've worked up an appetite. Would you like to grab something to eat?”

“I have never eaten sushi before. Do you think we could go get sushi for dinner?”

“I know a great sushi place,” Cilla said, smiling as she started her engine.

Thirty minutes later they were sitting at a table at Chopstix, a local Asian restaurant and sushi bar on Creedmoor Road. Mama Claudette was still extolling the merits of her good time, the dance experience more than she could ever have anticipated.

“Thought my hip was going to give out when we had to do that shimmy, dip, and roll!” she said.

Laughter rang between them. “Those leg extensions almost did me in!” Cilla exclaimed.

Mama Claudette took a sip of her plum wine. “I'm so glad we did that. I would never have thought about doing something like that on my own. I can't wait to tell Malcolm.”

“I can just imagine what he's going to have to say.”

A brief moment of quiet passed between them as the waitress placed the first tray of their order onto the table. Cilla had started them with a sashimi appetizer. It was three kinds of raw fish: tuna, salmon, and yellowtail, sliced into thin strips. A petite bowl of soy sauce, a dab of wasabi, and slices of pickled ginger rounded out the condiments.

Mama Claudette's first bite was hesitant as she tasted the salmon, adjusting to the texture against her tongue. “It's sweet,” she said, a hint of surprise in her tone.

“I really like the tuna,” Cilla said, the fish melting like butter against her tongue.

Mama Claudette reached for the last piece on the plate, a smile pulling at her thin lips as she savored the flavor.

Cilla couldn't help but smile with her. “I think we have a new sushi fan!”

“It's better than I expected.”

“You're really going to like the other dishes,” Cilla said as their waitress rested one tray after another onto the table. “Thank you,” Cilla said, meeting the woman's eye.

Mama Claudette leaned back in her seat. She crossed her hands together in her lap. “Cilla, you have been really good for this family. The twins adore you. They couldn't stop talking about you last night and you've done wonders for that son of mine.”

Cilla smiled.

Mama Claudette continued. “I can't remember the last time I saw Malcolm so happy. It's like he's a different man. He won't admit it but after his divorce he stopped living life. He was going through the motions, doing everything he was supposed to do but he wasn't really happy. There was no joy there and he worked very hard to hide that from me and the girls. But since meeting you there's light back in his eyes.”

“Shanell really broke his heart, didn't she?”

“Shanell almost destroyed my son,” she said matter-of-factly. Mama Claudette blew a heavy sigh, her eyes shifting back and forth in thought. “One day you and Malcolm might have a son of your own and you'll understand how I feel. You want only the best for your children and when you know in your heart that something or someone isn't good for them, you want to protect them. And you can do that when they're young but then one day you realize they're all grown up and you can't run interference anymore.

“I couldn't run interference and save my son from that girl. I didn't like her and I knew she was bad for him. Then I made the cardinal mistake of showing and telling him and her how I felt. That pushed them closer together. Malcolm was hell-bent on proving me wrong and Shanell wanted to show everybody that he loved her more than he loved his mother. My dislike for Shanell put Malcolm in an awkward spot. It made it harder for him to see what we were all trying to tell him.”

Tears suddenly misted the woman's gaze. Cilla reached across the table and gently squeezed the woman's hand. Compassion blanketed her expression.

Mama Claudette suddenly shook her head. “Let's change the subject. I purposely don't talk about Shanell. She's the mother of my grandbabies. I don't have to like her, but for Cleo and Claudia's sake I respect how they feel about her. She's their mother and despite everything she's done, the girls do love her. So I won't talk badly about her, no matter how I feel.”

Cilla nodded. She changed the subject. “So, have you ever been scuba diving?”

Mama Claudette laughed. “No, I can't say that I have.”

“I think you and I should put scuba diving on our bucket list of things to do together.”

The older woman nodded her head slowly. “That might be doable.”

Cilla gestured toward the dragon roll, picking up a piece with her chopsticks. “This is really good,” she said. “You have to try it!”

Following her lead, Mama Claudette relished the delicate flavors, approval shining in her eyes. “Cilla, something tells me you're going to be good for me, too!”

Malcolm had tried to call his family but no one was answering their phone. All of his calls had gone to voice mail, neither Cilla, his mother, nor either of his daughters picking up their phones. His anxiety level was just about to shoot up a notch when he stepped into his home and no one was there to greet him. The house was quiet, not a sound coming from any room.

He took a quick glance at his watch. He couldn't begin to know where they all were. School was out and any other time they would all be getting ready for the next day. He was just about to go scour the neighborhood when he heard the garage door rising and his mother's SUV pull inside. Their laughter was loud and raucous as they all came in through the utility room door. The twins led the way, Mama Claudette and Cilla on their heels.

“Will someone please tell me what's going on?” he asked, relief wafting in his tone.

“Hi, Daddy!” the girls chimed in unison.

“Hey, Son-shine!”

“Hi, honey!”

“We weren't expecting you back until tomorrow,” his mother said, moving to drop her shopping bags onto the table.

“Is that why none of you was answering your phone?”

The girls all shot each other a look, erupting in a fit of giggles.

“Sorry about that, honey,” Cilla said. “That was my fault.”

Mama Claudette pointed at Claudia. “Baby girl, go get all the phones out of the glove compartment, please.”

Confusion washed over Malcolm's face.

Cilla laughed. “We were in a no-phone zone. I took the girls to the food bank to volunteer this afternoon and we weren't allowed to have our phones. Then we went shopping for toys to take to the women's shelter for their kids.”

Cleo interjected. “We forgot all about 'em!”

He nodded, taking a deep breath. “Well, it sounds like you all had a good day.”

“We had a great day!” Claudia exclaimed, moving back into the room. The young girl dropped all the phones onto the kitchen counter.

“We picked up Chinese food for dinner,” Cilla said. “I hope that's okay.”

Malcolm nodded. “What's not okay is not one of you has given me a hug or kiss. Didn't anybody miss me?”

A round of laughter rang between the women a second time.

Malcolm tossed up his hands, a wide grin pulling at his full lips. “Really? This is how you all treat me?”

“I told you he was spoiled,” Mama Claudette said, gesturing toward Cilla with a nod. “He was a titty baby, you know!”

Malcolm's expression was incredulous. He looked from one to the other.

“It's okay, Daddy,” Cleo said. She gave him a serious look. “We'll work on that self-confidence together.”

Claudia nodded in agreement.

“You'll get over it,” Mama Claudette admonished, a hint of humor in her tone.

Cilla chuckled softly. “I didn't know you were so sensitive, honey.”

His eyes widened. “Sensitive?”

“His daddy was like that,” Mama Claudette said, her head bobbing. “Just as sensitive as he could be. Worked my nerves sometimes!”

“It really is an unattractive quality in a man,” Cilla said.

Malcolm tossed up his hands. “Okay, who are you people and what have you done with my family?”

 

 

Malcolm peeked in on the girls, both sleeping soundly. His mother had retired for the night as well. He and Cilla were left to lock up for the night. He smiled as he stood watching one twin and then the other. It had been a good night. They'd gotten a good laugh at his expense, their teasing planned as they'd pulled into the driveway. Once they'd gotten a rise out of him the girls admitted their ruse.

“You should have seen your face!” his mother had laughed, hugging him warmly.

“I thought you were going to cry,” Cilla teased as she kissed his mouth.

Even the twins had laughed at him thinking it hilarious that they'd been able to poke fun at him.

Back downstairs Cilla was wiping down the table and counters. She'd brewed two cups of hot tea for them and had spilled a smidgen of sugar in the process. She smiled when he entered the room. “Is everybody okay?”

He nodded. “The girls are knocked out.”

“They had a full day. You would have been so proud of them.”

“I'd never thought about having them volunteer before but I think it was a great idea. I'm glad you did that.”

“Well, they had asked me to take them to the movies after school but I was already committed. Then they asked if they could tag along. I didn't see any reason not to let them go and your mother thought it would be good for them too.”

Malcolm smiled. He grabbed both cups of tea, leading her into the family room. He turned on the television and lowered the volume. Jimmy Kimmel was just finishing his opening monologue. They sat side by side on the loveseat, Cilla leaning easily into his side.

He kissed her cheek. “I missed you.”

“I missed you more,” she replied, lifting her lips to his. The kiss was sweet, an easy, gentle connection. They relaxed against each other, their back and forth caresses the gentlest exchanges.

“So, the girls told me you all had a slumber party while I was gone.”

“We did. Pajamas, popcorn,
Twilight
movies, the works! We had a great time.”

He trailed his fingers across her thigh. “Do we get to have a slumber party tonight? Are you going to stay over again?”

Cilla laughed, looping her arms around his neck. “Nope! I'm going home.”

He shook his head, blowing a loud sigh. “We need to pick a wedding date. And I vote for tomorrow. I'm tired of you going back across town every night. I want you here in my bed tonight. I want you there every night.”

“We do need to pick out a date. In fact, I think we should get married on the first of the month.”

“Really? On my birthday?”

She nodded. “Or we could wait until next year and get married on my birthday.”

“I'm not waiting. I actually like that idea. Will that give you enough time to do everything you need to do?”

She nodded. “Yes. I know exactly what I want now and I think it'll make you happy too.”

He kissed her mouth. “Marrying you will make me very happy. I don't care how we do it.”

“Well, it was the girls who came up with the idea and I think it'll be perfect.”

Even with the late-night hour the two sat talking, oblivious to time. Cilla was excited to share the ideas for their wedding. Malcolm's excitement soon matched hers, the man pleasantly surprised to discover that the women in his life had come together in such a special way.

As Cilla described every detail he could actually picture the moment the two of them would exchange their vows. If he were honest he was more than ready, not needing to wait until his birthday to make Cilla his wife. He couldn't stop himself from saying so.

She pressed her mouth to his, kissing him passionately. “The first will be here before you know it, baby, and then you're going to be stuck with me forever.”

Chapter Sixteen

Cleo and Claudia were trying on their wedding dresses for the umpteenth time. Both girls absolutely loved the vintage design that Cilla had selected. The color was blush, just the barest hint of pink to complement their warm complexions. The gowns were Chantilly lace with dainty bateau necklines and wrist-length sleeves. The styling was demure and age-appropriate, stopping at their knees.

“I'm wearing my hair down and I'm going to ask the hair stylist to put rollers in so my curls are better,” Claudia proclaimed, staring at her reflection in the full-length mirror.

“I want braids,” Cleo said. “Miss Cilla said I can do braids.”

“Do you think I should do braids too?”

Cleo shrugged. “I think you should do you. Miss Cilla said even if we wear the same dress that we can always find ways to show our different personalities.”

Claudia nodded before easing herself onto the bed. She crossed her legs and rested her hands into her lap.

Cleo sat down beside her. She turned her body just enough to face her sister, consternation tinting her eyes. She chewed her bottom lip nervously. “Do you think Daddy and Miss Cilla will ever get divorced?”

“That's stupid, Cleo! They're not even married yet. Why would you be asking about them getting divorced?”

“I just . . . well . . .” She hesitated, wanting to find the right words to voice her thoughts. She took a deep breath. “I like Miss Cilla and I don't want to like her too much and then she and Daddy get divorced and we can't love her anymore.”

Claudia nodded her understanding. “Even if they did get divorced Daddy would let us still be friends with her because she's a nice person. He wouldn't want us to be mean to her or anything.”

“I guess you're right.”

“I don't know why you're worried, Cleo. Daddy and Miss Cilla love each other. They're just like Romeo and Juliet.”

“Like Jay-Z and Beyoncé!”

“Do you think Grandma will let us wear makeup for the wedding?” Claudia jumped up to eye her face in the mirror. “I hope we can wear makeup. At least some eye shadow and a little lipstick.”

“Grandma will let us if Miss Cilla says we can. But I just want to wear lip gloss.”

“You want shiny, bubblegum lips!” Claudia said, giggling.

“Shiny, orange bubblegum lips!” her sister added, giggling with her.

Claudia tossed herself back onto the bed. “Well, I don't know about the makeup but Miss Cilla told Daddy that she was going to take us to get manicures and pedicures. And we get to buy new shoes, too.”

“I want four-inch heels!” Cleo exclaimed.

“Daddy is not going to let you wear four-inch heels.”

“He might if Miss Cilla says it's okay.”

“Miss Cilla won't say four-inch heels are okay. She doesn't even wear heels that high.”

Cleo shrugged. “After they get married what are we going to call her?”

“I was wondering that too. Will we have to keep calling her ‘Miss Cilla'?”

“That would be weird. I mean she'll be our stepmother. We can't call her ‘Miss.'”

“Should we call her ‘Mom'?”

The two girls locked gazes.

“Mommy would be really mad if we did,” Cleo said. “Really mad!”

“I just think we should ask Daddy. He'll tell us what to do.”

“Ask your daddy what?” Mama Claudette questioned, startling them as she came into the room. She looked from one to the other. “Why do you girls have them dresses on? Are you trying to get them dirty?”

Both shook their heads no.

“We just feel pretty with them on,” Claudia said.

Mama Claudette smiled. “You girls are beautiful no matter what. Now change out of them and come get your dinner, please.” She moved to unzip one and then the other. She waited until both dresses were back on their racks and in their dress bags hanging back in the closet.

Cleo and Claudette were still chatting back and forth, their conversation shifting from curious to serious to random. Their grandmother listened with one ear, pleased to hear them so happy. She moved toward the door, her hand on the knob when Cleo called her back.

“What, baby girl?”

“Grandma, how come you don't have a boyfriend?”

Mama Claudette laughed. “What do I need a boyfriend for?”

“To take you dancing,” one twin chimed.

“And to dinner and the movies,” added the other.

“I can do all that without a boyfriend.”

“But you'd have more fun.”

“And you can play kissy face like Daddy and Miss Cilla.”

“I am too old to be playing kissy face. Besides I'm old and old men my age don't have teeth. Who wants to be kissing on a man with no teeth!”

The girls laughed hysterically.

Mama Claudette gave them both a bright smile. “Come on now so we can eat. That's enough foolishness for one day.”

 

 

Malcolm sat alone in his office. The house was quiet, everyone sleeping. He leaned forward to tie his running shoe. Despite his best efforts he was feeling the exhaustion, wishing he could crawl back into his bed for one more hour, or even two, of sleep. But sleep wasn't an option. He needed to get his run in and then meet Cilla for their morning coffee. There was much he had to share with her.

Heading toward his car he thought back to the dinner conversation from the night before. Cleo and Claudia had announced that they didn't want to call Cilla by her first name once the couple was married. According to them all the important grown-ups in their life all had some sort of title, pointing out that they called the neighbors and casual acquaintances “Miss.” The two girls had deemed Cilla deserving of much more. The two had tossed around ideas, finally proclaiming that they just wanted to call her “Mom.”

Thinking about Shanell gave him reason to pause. Despite his argument that they still had a mother the girls had argued back that they would still call their mother “Mommy,” their way of distinguishing one from the other. Thinking about it Malcolm knew that if the shoe were on the other foot he wouldn't be thrilled about his daughters calling someone else “Dad” even if he was “Daddy.” He also knew, without saying it out loud, that for them to call Cilla “Mom” would be a problem for his ex-wife, even if she was temporarily missing in action. If not now, then definitely later. But there was no arguing that the woman he loved and planned to make his wife had made quite an impression on his family.

His daughters had been on a roll, surprising him with some of their comments and observations. Even his mother had been impressed but not enough to offer any advice. “Talk to Cilla about it,” she admonished, “then both of you talk to the girls. You'll figure it out.”

Malcolm trusted that they would figure it out and that in the end his daughters would be happy. But he also knew that he would have to talk to Shanell about it at some point. Despite the tension currently between them he didn't want her blindsided. No matter what he felt about the woman he knew he couldn't do that do her.

An hour later he was sitting in Starbucks waiting for Cilla. She had the sweetest smile on her face when she came through the door, waving at him excitedly.

“Hey, you!”

“Hey, yourself,” Cilla answered. She leaned to kiss his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck to hug him. “How was your run?”

“It was good. You really should run with me sometime.”

She tilted her head slightly as she gave him a look.

Malcolm laughed. “Or not!”

Cilla took the first sip of her coffee. “Everyone okay at home?”

“Ahhh, those daughters of mine!” he extolled.

“What did they do?”

Malcolm repeated the previous night's exchange between him and the twins. Cilla's eye widened, shock registering across her face.

“Where did that come from?” she questioned.

He smiled. “My girls love you and I think this just lets us know how much.”

Cilla sat back in her seat, drifting off into thought. She and the girls had grown closer. They'd been spending much time together and she enjoyed those moments when they were silly and having fun. She was comfortable with their curiosity and knew they trusted her enough to share their secrets and ask her questions about everything from boys to their bodies. Their friendship was special and belied the original tension that had started their relationship. She loved them as much as she imagined herself loving a child of her own.

Malcolm watched her for a brief moment before speaking again. “Have you ever thought about what the girls should call you?”

She shifted her eyes back to his, shrugging her shoulders. “In all honesty, I really hadn't thought about it, Malcolm.”

He nodded. “Neither had I but clearly it's been on the girls' minds.”

The two continued the conversation as Malcolm voiced his concerns, thoughts of his ex-wife on his mind. She could feel his apprehensions, even agreeing with his reluctance.

“I can see how this could turn out badly. I don't know if I would want my child to call some other woman ‘Mommy,' no matter how genuine her intentions are,” she said. “I wouldn't blame their mother if she gets upset. I think we can figure something else out.”

“Well, I think I'm going to let you and the girls work this out,” Malcolm concluded. “Let me know what you come up with.”

Cilla laughed. “I see how you work!”

“Yep!” He leaned forward to kiss her mouth. “What time do you have to be at the office?” he questioned.

Cilla grinned. “What did you have in mind?”

Malcolm skidded his chair closer to hers. He leaned his face close to hers, his cheek brushing against her cheek. He whispered in her ear and she blushed profusely. When he leaned back he lifted his eyebrows at her suggestively.

“Mr. Cobb!” she exclaimed, her voice dropping low.

He shrugged his shoulders and leaned forward to whisper in her ear a second time. His words were suggestive and sexy, dirty innuendo filling his comments.

Cilla's eyes skated back and forth, looking to see that no one else had heard him. Her seductive smile lifted easily. She stood up, pressing her hands against his shoulders as she leaned to whisper back into his ear. “Let's go back to my house.”

 

 

Shanell Cobb had been sitting in the parent parking lot of Ravenscroft School every day for weeks, watching as her daughters came and went. In the mornings they'd skip off bus #437 or from their grandmother's car. But in the afternoon it was Malcolm's new girlfriend who sometimes picked them up.

She sat watching as the girls rushed to their father's car, he and that woman standing in conversation with two other parents. A tear fell from Shanell's eyes. That was supposed to be her standing at Malcolm's side holding his hand as he laughed happily. It was supposed to be her that their daughters ran to, excitement painting their expressions as they showed off homework and test scores. It was supposed to be her but it wasn't. She sighed, the weight of it toxic to her spirit.

As they all jumped into Malcolm's car and pulled off she thought about following but she didn't. The last of her high was starting to wear away and she knew that the drop would be monumental if she didn't get a quick fix soon. Her hands were beginning to shake and that twitch was back, her eyes watering and the left one flicking erratically. She swiped at her face with the back of her hand, sweat beginning to run profusely in spite of the car's air-conditioning blowing on high.

Flipping through the car's ashtray she found the remnant of a cigarette butt and lit it, taking a deep drag of the nicotine. A sudden rap on the driver's-side window startled her and her head whipped left to see who it was. One of the school's uniformed security officers was eyeing her critically. He gestured for her to roll down the window.

“Excuse me, ma'am, but you can't park here.”

Shanell swiped her hands across her face a second time. “Oh, sorry,” she muttered. “I didn't . . . I didn't know.”

“Yes, ma'am, this is the loading zone only. But you're welcome to pull your car over to the other side.” He gestured with his hand, pointing to a row of empty parking spots.

She nodded. “Okay,” she said as she dragged her palm through her tangled hair.

The security guard was still staring. “Are you okay, ma'am?” he questioned, concern shimmering in his eyes.

She nodded. “Yeah,” she said, a bald-faced lie passing over her lips. “I'm just great!”

Starting her car's engine she tossed up a hand in the man's direction, pulling her car out of the lot and into the early evening traffic.

 

 

The twins sat at the kitchen table finishing homework. Malcolm and Cilla were preparing their evening meal and Mama Claudette was in the adjoining space reading a book. No one expected the doorbell when it rang, everyone looking about in surprise.

“Are you expecting someone?” Cilla asked.

He shook his head. “It's probably a Girl Scout with cookies,” he commented.

“I'll get it,” Mama Claudette said.

“If it is a Girl Scout,” Malcolm added, “buy some Thin Mints.”

Cilla rolled her eyes. “I thought you were eating healthy?”

He grinned. “You're eating healthy. I don't have a wedding dress to fit into!”

Cilla laughed. “I will have no problems fitting into my dress, thank you very much!”

He shrugged, his broad shoulders pushing toward the ceiling.