Sealed With a Kiss (30 page)

“What’s the matter?” What had she done to make him look so serious? Only a moment earlier he had been jocular, laughing at her.

“You’ve got a real pretty laugh. It reminds me of those temple bells my dad brought me from Asia. I never heard anybody laugh like that. Real nice.” She hoped the smile that she’d tried to force on her face actually made it. He wouldn’t understand tears of joy, she knew, as she fought to control her emotions.

When she could, she turned away from the stove and faced him. “My grandpa says that when he hears me laugh, it’s like hearing my mother laugh. He says she loved to laugh. I don’t remember her. What’s in the bag, Aaron?”

“My skates. I didn’t wear them ’cause I caught a ride with one of the neighbors. I also brought along the Christmas present you gave me. It’s real cool. I was wondering if you’d give me a few lessons—you know, brushstrokes and mixing paints, stuff like that. I paint, but I haven’t had any lessons.” He moved slightly so that she could set his place at the table.

“Aaron.” She sat across the table from him. It was time to put him straight about a few things. “I want you to visit me whenever you like, as long as it’s all right with Rosalie. And I’ll be happy to teach you anything I know, so don’t be apologetic about asking. Rosalie showed me some of your watercolors, and I thought they were impressive.” He drew his shoulders up and sat erect, evidently pleased by her compliment. “I’m glad you like to paint,” she told him, patting his hand before turning to take the biscuits from the oven. “It’s what I like to do best. If you have any problems with math or English, I can help you with that, too. I once taught both subjects to high school students. And if you need help with anything else, just ask me. If I can, okay; if not, we’ll find someone who can.”

She couldn’t hide her amusement at the sight of his eyes getting bigger when she placed the food on the table. He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes.

“I’m not triplets, Noomie. You of all people ought to know that.” Laughter spilled from her lips. When she could calm herself, she noticed an expression on his face that proclaimed he’d witnessed the unusual. At her inquiring look, he explained.

“I’m not used to this laugh of yours yet. Too bad you can’t sell it.” He bit into a biscuit and gave her a thumbs-up sign.

She taught him the basics about mixing his paints and showed him some of the differences between brush techniques with oils and with watercolors. Laughter bubbled within her when he joked derisively at his mistakes and with his hand, patted himself on the back when he’d look at her, wink, and say, “I did good, right?” The third time he looked at his watch, she had the gloomy feeling that he was tiring of her company. Feeling stomach pangs, she looked at her watch.

“Are you hungry, Aaron?” His sheepish grin was answer enough, but he confirmed it.

“Well, I could use a hot dog or something. It’s one-thirty already. Do you think we could drop in on my…your grandfather for a couple of minutes today or tomorrow? I’m not in school this week.”

“He’ll like that. I’ll check and see which day is best for him. When we go, ask him what he wants you to call him.” She pursed her lips. “I’m sure the two of you can work something out.” They finished eating and she packed a bag of biscuits for Rosalie.

“What’s wrong with your feet?” She saw him looking down at them with a worried expression.

“I’m a mess, and I promised my mom I’d try to be a little more tidy. She’s a neat freak. I’ve got paint of every color on my shoes. No wonder you’re barefooted.” She showed him the laundry room where he could wash his sneakers and took the opportunity to phone her grandfather.

“As far as I’m concerned, he can come over here and stay. About today, I’m not so sure. Depends on how much Rufus knows,” he told her. Taken aback by his reference to Rufus, she asked him what he meant and whether Rufus was there.

“No, but he will be shortly with those little boys of his.” She knew from the tone of his voice that he was withholding his censure.

“I haven’t told him anything, Grandpa, and I don’t want you to tell him.” She could have added that he wasn’t always right. She hadn’t yet made him eat crow for advising her not to get in touch with Aaron; when she disobeyed him, look how he acted. You’d think he’d spent his life looking for the boy. He rapped out at her, getting her attention.

“Where are your ears, gal? I said, what do you take me for? It’s not my business, but you’d better hurry up and tell him about it before this balloon pops right in your face. You listen to me, gal. I’ve lived a long time. That’s a good man; you mind what you do.” She told him she’d bring Aaron for lunch the next day and hung up. This time she had to admit Judd was right.

She leaned against the edge of the kitchen sink, waiting for Aaron to return from the laundry room. Rosalie had done a wonderful job raising the boy. He had good manners and good habits. And there was much of herself in him. She’d have to be careful not to go overboard, she reminded herself, because his mother was Rosalie Hopkins, a good, decent woman. Would she have been as generous if their roles had been reversed? She didn’t think so; she doubted many women would have been and she was going to do whatever she could to make certain Rosalie never regretted what she’d done.

Aaron walked into the apartment in his stocking feet, holding his clean white sneakers high over his head. “I oughta get going, Noomie. I’ve got a few chores to do at home if we’re going to Alexandria. Won’t take me but half an hour.” She explained that they’d be going the following day and noticed an involuntary twitch of his jaw. Was she about to learn something else about him?

“What’s the matter? The old man doesn’t want my company today, or you don’t feel like taking me?” His humorless smile didn’t fool her; he felt rejected. And his hard penetrating stare seemed out of character for the light-hearted boy with whom she’d spent the last four hours, but she sensed that it was part of him, that he could be harsh. He wasn’t an easy one, and she’d better not forget it.

“Aaron,” she told him in a soft voice, “Grandpa has company this afternoon. He said he’d rather you came tomorrow, when he can spend all his time with you. In fact, he said he wouldn’t care if you went over there and stayed with him.”

“He said that?” His face brightened immediately, and he didn’t seem to need an answer, but treated her statement like a self-evident truth. He sat down and began pulling on his sneakers, and she sighed deeply. What a turnabout!

“Before I go, you want to tell me what you do for a living? I know you’re an artist, but how do you make money doing this?” After explaining her work to him, she put on her coat and boots and informed him that she was driving him home. He didn’t need to know that she was afraid for him to skake on the highways at the height of the rush hour.

“Phone your mom and tell her we’re leaving. I don’t want her to worry.”

“She’s still at work, but I’ll phone her.” He did, and when they got in the car, he looked at the bag in her hand.

“I sure hope you put some of those biscuits in there.”

She patted his hand, aware that she no longer felt as if by touching him she violated his privacy. “There’s nothing here but biscuits, and you’re going to tell Rosalie that I sent them to her.” She put her arm across the back of the seat and looked at him.

“On your honor?” He grinned sheepishly, and she supposed that his little mannerisms would always pull at her heartstrings. She’d just have to get used to not hugging him at such times. He wouldn’t have liked it at his age if he had been living with her all his life.

“I’m wai…ting.” She sang the word.

“Okay, but you sure drive a nasty bargain. Why don’t you just give me a couple of them now? That’ll hold me.”

She tossed him the bag. I’m a pushover, she thought, as she drove. Aaron tuned to a rock station, and her mind drifted to Rufus. What would he and Judd talk about? If only she could share with him her feelings about the morning she’d spent with Aaron. She couldn’t judge whether she and her child had made any progress toward real friendship, because he had so quickly shown suspiciousness of her. She had never felt so helpless, but there was nothing she could do but wait; it was all up to Aaron. She glanced at him sitting there, seemingly without a care—his head resting on the back of the seat, his fingers tapping his knees to the sounds of rock—and looked quickly away. She had the urge to throw caution aside, tell Rufus everything, and pray that he’d take her in his arms and keep her there.

“Are you in a hurry all of a sudden, Noomie? Sixty is kinda fast in the city.”

She took her foot off the accelerator. “Sorry. My mind wandered.” She parked in front of the house, and her spirits soared when Aaron patted her shoulder and teased, “Thanks. You’d better get your pilot’s license if you’re planning to continue flying. See you tomorrow.”

She stopped by a bakery and ordered a cake, bought some oils and other supplies, locked herself in her studio, and turned on the answering machine. Hours later, the burning in her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten dinner, and a glance toward the window informed her that it was dark and snowing. The telephone had rung several times, but the caller had hung up as soon as her message had begun. Satisfied with her logo design for a record company’s new label, she prepared to leave. The telephone rang again, and moments later, she heard his hypnotic voice.

“Did you call me earlier?”

“Three times. I hate those infernal machines. You promised a magazine interview for OLC, and I’m thinking it would be more impressive if the story covered spokesperson for several of our foundations. I’ve spoken with an editor of
African Americans Today,
and she would like, say, five separate stories in the same issue. I’d write the overview, and you would be the lead. What do you say?”

He had the ability to burst her balloon without trying. Her heart had thumped wildly at the sound of his voice, at the chance that he’d missed her or just wanted to talk with her. But no—he’d called to talk business. She glanced over at her drawing board at the sketches of which she had been so proud, that had made her feel like skipping instead of walking to her car, and wondered how she’d let his impersonal manner suck away her good mood so easily.

“Could we talk about this some other time, Rufus? I’ve just realized it’s snowing, and I’d better get home. I don’t know what condition the streets are in.” She thought she heard him sigh, but she wasn’t sure.

“Wait there a few minutes while I step outside and check the weather. Stay there until I get back to you.” He hung up before she could tell him she didn’t want his on-again, off-again caring. She shouldn’t have answered, she told herself, knowing that after she heard his voice, hardly anything could have prevented her from lifting the receiver.

She sat down at her drawing board to wait for his call and busied herself developing ideas for a cosmetics ad. At the knock on her door, she looked at her watch; almost twenty minutes had passed. She should have realized that he’d come. She opened the door to him and the blast of cold air that still swirled around him. She hadn’t seen him in knickers before. The thick Scottish tweeds and knee-high leather boots suited him. With the heavy parka, they gave him the look of a rugged outdoorsman. He walked in without waiting for an invitation, and she gave full rein to the laughter that bubbled in her when she noticed the snowflakes sticking to the tiny black curls on one side of his head.

He lifted his brow quizzically. “I amuse you?” It was difficult at times to know whether he was serious.

“I didn’t realize you’d come here. The weather must be terrible. Who’s with Preston and Sheldon?”

He shrugged and unzipped his parka. “I left them with a sitter, a young boy who lives across the street. They had a great time with Judd this afternoon. I think they’re ready to adopt your grandfather; they’re crazy about him.” He tilted his head to one side and narrowed his eyes slightly. Here it comes, she thought.

“I can’t imagine why you were surprised to see me. You must have known I wouldn’t let you drive in this blizzard if I could prevent it. I’ll drive you home. Don’t worry—I’ll get your car to you tomorrow morning.”

She frowned, nodding hesitantly. She was taking Aaron to visit Judd tomorrow and she wouldn’t consider postponing their visit; it would be the first of her son’s birthdays that she’d spend with him, and she’d already seen how quickly he could become suspicious of her.

“But I’ll need the car by eleven.”

“Then I’ll have it here by eleven.” She had to fight to hold down the panic; what if Rufus found Aaron at her apartment? But she breathed a sigh of relief when it occurred to her that she could phone Aaron and tell him she’d pick him up. Letting the breath out of her lungs slowly, she mustered a little enthusiasm and agreed to his suggestion.

At her apartment door, he asked whether she planned to invite him in for coffee. “I haven’t even had dinner yet, so you’d have a long wait for coffee,” she hedged. She suspected that coffee wasn’t his goal, but how could she deny him something so simple after his generous gesture, going out for her and driving her home?

“Ask me in anyway, and give me a chance to warm up before going back out there in that blizzard.” She tried to ignore the coolness of his grin, the clear evidence that something displeased him. He walked in behind her, unzipping his parka as he did so.

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” she threw over her shoulder. “It’s just a little snow.” But she sensed before the words were out that he wasn’t in a mood for humor.