Sealed With a Kiss (31 page)

“This place always looks so warm and inviting. Like you.” He stood looking down at her, his eyes and facial expression unreadable.

She placed her hands on her hips, stood with arms slightly akimbo, and gazed up at him. Bravado seemed the best way to handle Rufus right then. “Rufus, I’m going to eat my dinner and you’re going to drink a cup of instant coffee and then go home.”

The message in his eyes carried the precision of words. “Want to bet?” they asked her, as he took a few steps closer, almost but not quite crowding her. She wouldn’t let him see how he affected her and stifled the tremors that threatened to unbalance her.

“Don’t start anything that we aren’t going to finish. It’s bad for my nerves.” She laughed. “And we’re as far apart tonight as we were last night. Nothing’s change. You know that.”

“Nothing’s changed because you won’t trust me; you won’t share what’s inside you, eating at you.”

She looked past him to the refrigerator. “And
that’s
because you’ve never shown me a good reason.”

“Then you admit there’s something.” He moved closer but she backed up a step and looked at him steadily, neither confirming nor denying it.

He took his parka from the back of the chair, put it on and started toward the hallway. “I don’t really like instant coffee. Your car will be here in front of your door at nine.”

Another evening gone sour, she thought, as he reached out and dusted her cheek with the back of his hand. “Good night, Naomi.” It seemed that lately their partings always left them further apart than when they’d gotten together. She warmed some leftovers in the microwave for dinner. Later, she called Aaron and told him she’d stop by for him at noon. Rosalie had enjoyed the biscuits. “You can send some more any time; they were delicious,” Rosalie told her, and added, “Next time, stop in and visit for a while. You’ll be welcome.”

Rufus drove slowly. Considering his state of mind, he’d be smart to walk. Something about his driving her home had made her fearful, or at least sufficiently concerned to hesitate. It was understandable that she might not want him to go home with her, their libidos were almost certain to flare up if they were alone together. He knew he should wait until she straightened out whatever was bothering her, but he was increasingly doubtful that she ever would. Walking away no longer seemed an option for him; he loved her and needed her, and if she didn’t come to him soon, he was going to force the issue. Failure wasn’t something he was familiar with. He laughed at himself. He’d come full circle—from disliking her to letting her get into his blood. Then, he’d fallen in love with her, and if he knew anything at all, he knew this was for keeps. His mother would have loved her, too, he reflected.

Naomi and Aaron found Judd pacing the floor when they arrived shortly after noon, worried that the storm would interfere with their visit. After the most elaborate lunch she’d ever known Calvin to prepare, Naomi brought out Aaron’s birthday cake. She wouldn’t have thought that a person’s smile could bring her so much pleasure. But there was more to come. Happiness flooded her when Aaron leaned over a chair that was between them, wiped the chocolate crumbs from his mouth with the back of his hand, and kissed her on the cheek. She had to try hard not to overreact. To her surprise, Aaron didn’t want to leave, not even when she reminded him repeatedly of the slippery streets and encroaching darkness.

At the door, she heard her grandfather tell Aaron, “You can stop calling me sir and call me Grandpa. Won’t hurt you one bit to do that.” She watched Aaron closely for any sign of resentment, but didn’t see any.

The boy looked at Judd in the eye and told him, “I know who you are, sir. If that’s what you want me to call you, it’s all right with me. Uh, s—I mean, Grandpa, my mom said she’d like to meet you. Maybe you could call her sometimes.” He looked from one to the other. “Thanks for the birthday lunch and especially for the cake. Chocolate’s my favorite.” Naomi bit her lip. It had been on the tip of her tongue to say that Rufus also loved chocolate cake.

Aaron arrived the next afternoon, as agreed, for another painting lesson. His talent and swift mind impressed her. She realized as they worked that Aaron wouldn’t hesitate to ask her any questions that came to his mind. She hoped it was become he felt comfortable with her. Maybe she could ask him about something that had been bothering her.

“Aaron, how did you feel about your adoptive father?”

“I loved him,” he told her. “He was great, really great. We were real close, and I still miss him. But I always felt something wasn’t right. I didn’t look like anybody. I’m a lighter complexion than my mom and dad, and my hair’s like yours, wild and woolly. Theirs was softer and, you know, tame. Most of my friends looked a lot like one or both of their parents. Now, you…” He put the scraper aside and looked directly at her. “I look like you. Just like you. It’s eerie as…it’s eerie. You must look like your dad, ’cause both of us look like Grandpa.”

The telephone rang, and she reached for the extension on the kitchen wall.

“Hello.”

“It’s Sheldon, Noomie.”

“Sheldon? Darling, where are you? Home?” She remembered that Rufus had said he was going to teach the boy how to dial her number. They talked for a few minutes.

“I have to go now, Noomie. I’m supposed to stay in my room because I’ve been bad. We miss you, Noomie, and we want you to come see us.” She told the child that she missed him and Preston, too. He hung up and she suspected that he’d been caught outside his room. She went back to her drawing board, distracted. What had they been talking about before that call?

“What’s the problem, Noomie? Who was that?”

She told him, adding cryptically, “The problem is that I can’t have my cake and eat it, too.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t that be a blast?” he quipped. Then, as if sensing an undercurrent of emotion in her, he queried, “Is Sheldon the son of that man you told me you love? Remember the day we met? You told me that.” He looked steadily at her, seeming to grow older by the second. “You said the guy had four-year-old twins.” He touched his head with his forefinger. “I’ve got a memory like an elephant, Noomie; I never forget anything.” She knew her silence whetted his appetite for more information, and because she didn’t have any answers, he’d draw his own conclusion, indicting her.

“Why can’t you go see the kid? Seems to me if he likes you so much he called you, you’ve been spending some quality time with him. Is it because of me you don’t see them anymore?” She had promised him that she’d answer truthfully any questions he had about her.

She leaned back and rested her elbows on the drawing board. If she was going to keep his respect, she had to appear to be in control. “I don’t see them as much as I did, because their father and I are not so close anymore.” She watched his eyebrows shoot up and braced herself for more quizzing. He didn’t disappoint her.

“Did he drop you?” She shook her head, an amused smile playing around her lips.

“I didn’t think so. You didn’t tell him about me, did you? You’d rather drop him. Look, if you’re ashamed of me, just pretend I don’t exist. I don’t need to hang around here, and I can get to Alexandria by myself.” Her mind raced as she searched frantically for words that would reassure him, prevent a break in their relationship. He reached for his jacket, and she grabbed his hand.

“Aaron, no man is worth losing you again.” He stared at her long and hard, as if trying to see inside her, and she had to reach deep within for the strength to withstand his scrutiny without flinching. Suddenly, he shrugged nonchalantly, as if none of it mattered.

“Whatever. I’d better be going; my mom likes for me to be home before dark.” He zipped up his jacket, slanted his head, and asked her, “Do you still love this guy?” She nodded. He looked at his feet, then directly into her eyes. “I’m not sure I like this. I’ll see you in a couple of days.” He gave her his thumbs-up sign and left, and she wondered if she was going to lose both of them.

Chapter 17

R
ufus turned off his computer. He should punish Sheldon for having disobeyed him, but he sympathized with the child. Sheldon and Preston loved Naomi and missed her as much as he did. Preston translated his hurt into anger, but Sheldon’s temperament was different, and he suffered more. He had tried to protect his boys from what they were experiencing with Naomi, but an hour after they’d met her, it was too late. They feel for her as instantaneously as he did. Naomi seemed to have a way with the Meade males.

He walked upstairs, opened the door to the boys’ room, and found them huddled together on Preston’s bed, whispering. He watched as Preston patted Sheldon on the back, seemingly comforting him. Rufus closed the door softly, went back to his office, and phoned Naomi. Sheldon didn’t need punishment; it was Naomi who needed it. He greeted her, skipped the preliminaries, and told her he knew about Sheldon’s call and what he had just witnessed.

“Give me a ring when you find a solution to this.” He told her goodbye and hung up. By now she was hurting, and he was sorry, but he had to play the hand that had been dealt him. He loved her. He wanted her. But if he played by the rules, he’d never get her.

Naomi’s hand rested on the phone long after she’d hung up. She’d thought when she’d established contact with Aaron that she’d begun to straighten out her life. But had she? Instead, she’d precipitated new relationships and situations that had taken on a life and momentum of their own, that were all tied up together, and that would someday have to be straightened out. “I’ll cry tomorrow,” she quoted, as she put on a jazz album to change her mood.

At nine the following evening, Naomi conceded defeat, locked the door of her little cubicle at OLC, and headed for her car. Her steps echoed thought the empty building, accentuating her aloneness. Tutoring was usually suspended during the holiday school recess, but Linda had agreed to meet her with a report on the retreat. She couldn’t imagine why the girl hadn’t come, had kept her waiting there on a blustery cold night in a barely heated building. She’d have thought Linda would be anxious to share with her what she’d learned about art and painting at the retreat.

She telephoned Linda the next day at the drugstore where the girl worked part-time and asked for an explanation. She didn’t mind that Linda was unapologetic, but her indifference hurt. She explained carelessly that her mother had kept her at home and, as if she had become distrustful of Naomi, asked, “Why are you so interested, anyway?”

You couldn’t beat teenagers for bluntness, Naomi thought, remembering her conversation with Aaron the day before, nor for cruelty. “Linda, I see in you myself as I was at your age, and I understand you. I know where you’re headed and why, and I just want to be sure that you don’t get there. I’m going to speak with your mother.”

She called the woman immediately and was sorry she hadn’t done it earlier. Linda’s mother seemed to appreciate the call and promised to encourage and support her daughter. They agreed that Linda would help her mother after work, that Naomi would tutor the girl at her apartment on Saturday mornings, and that they would stay in touch. If only her other problems could be solved so easily.

She dressed and went to buy a present for Judd’s ninety-fifth birthday and one for Rufus’s thirty-fifth. Aaron hadn’t called her, and she decided not to pressure him. Her eyes widened and she couldn’t utter a sound when he opened Judd’s door just as she reached for the knob.

“Well, what a surprise. I guess you weren’t joking when you said you could find your way to Alexandria.” She heard the hurt in her voice and didn’t try to conceal it. Something akin to embarrassment flickered in his brown eyes, but he didn’t give quarter.

“Today’s Grandpa’s birthday. I thought I’d come out and let him beat me at chess. You coming in, or are you planning to stay out there in the cold?” Before she could react to that series of questions, he released another at bullet speed. “You want to let me carry that for you, or do you want to just give me, er, the devil for getting smart at you when I left your place?” She succumbed to his charm, fully aware that he’d turned it on to ease things for himself.

“You said you’d see me in a couple of days. What happened?” she chided.

“I’ve been sorting things out,” he told her casually. She supposed her uneasiness showed, because he explained, “I decided to talk to Grandpa and I feel a little better about it. Have you been to see Sheldon and his brother yet?” Looking up at him, she shook her head and could have sworn that he’d grown a few inches in the last three days.

His mouth curved almost cynically. “You have to get your act together, Noomie. Talk to the guy. You won’t have any less than you’ve got now.” As if to soften the blows of his words, he stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers, and she had to fight back the tears. Rufus often did that, usually when he was leaving.

To complicate things, Rufus called to wish Judd a happy birthday, and the boys also talked with him, filling the old man’s day with happiness and giving her a feeling of aloneness. She marveled at Aaron’s silence as she drove him home. Like her, he didn’t feel compelled to talk unless he had something to say. But as she swung off Georgia Avenue onto his street, he turned to her.

“You’d feel better if you talked to them. Happy New Year, Noomie.” He bounced out of the car and up the steps, turned, and waved.

She usually spent New Year’s Eve alone, so she didn’t mind it. But she made some double fudge brownies in case she got into a blue funk. The sinfully delicious treats would cure most any ailment, or at least take your mind off it. She ate her dinner and had just settled down to watch the holiday festivities on television when the doorbell rang.

Her heart leaped in her chest when she opened the door and saw Rufus and his boys. She knelt and gathered the children into her arms, showering them with kisses, barely aware of the happy tears that streaked her cheeks. The boys hugged and kissed her, dancing excitedly, lavishing her with love. At last, she stood and looked into Rufus’s eyes. If only he’d take her in his arms, if only he’d hold her and kiss her, as the boys had done. She dropped her gaze, unwilling to let him see what was in her heart.

Rufus looked down at Naomi, at the sweetness of her expression and the warmth in her smiling, tear sparkled eyes that nearly took his breath away. “We came to wish you a happy New Year.”

When she glanced around, he figured she was looking for the boys. He knew they’d followed their noses and had gone looking for brownies, the fragrance of which enveloped the apartment.

“Come in. I always forget to ask you in.” He stepped inside, noticing that she didn’t step back to make it possible and guessed that she wanted him closer. He wasn’t ready to accommodate her. Preston and Sheldon had wanted to see her and had tormented him until he’d brought them. He had wanted to see her, too, but unlike four-year-olds, he regulated his desires; they didn’t regulate him. She looked up at him, seeming to beseech him, but he wasn’t about to spend the rest of the night—and probably a lot longer—aching for her.

“I’m so glad you came and that you brought the boys. I don’t think anything could make me happier.”

His lips tightened with disdain. “Nothing? Why don’t I believe you? Oh, I know you think you’re telling the truth, but if nothing would make you happier, sweetheart, you’d find yourself with us more often. Maybe constantly.” He grinned. “Right?”

She took his hand. “Come, let’s see what the boys are into. I don’t want them to open the oven.” They found the boys on their knees, peering at the glass oven door. When she would have rushed toward them, he restrained her. “They won’t get closer, and they wouldn’t touch it even if it were cold.” She put the brownies on the balcony to cool and made hot chocolate.

Rufus sat at the table, holding his empty coffee cup and looking over at Sheldon, who stood beside Naomi with an arm around her and his head resting in her lap. Then he looked down at Preston who, in an unusual gesture, had taken the same position with him. He had to do something. Couldn’t she see that they all belonged together?

He stood abruptly. “They’re getting sleepy, so we’d better be going.” At the door, he gazed at her, letting her see everything he felt; love, loneliness, need. Her quick intake of breath told him that she’d seen what he’d wanted her to see. She lowered her head, and he swiftly pulled her to him, teased her lips apart, and thrust his tongue between them, taking from her what he needed and making sure that her night would be as lonely as his. He wanted to hold her to him forever, but she stepped away, clearly shaken, gasping. He winked at her, lifted the boys into his arms and left.

The new year is only two days old, Naomi thought, and my life is in a bigger mess than ever. How had she gotten herself into such a predicament? Linda was coming for her Saturday morning tutoring session, and Aaron had decided he wanted to visit. Moreover, he refused to accept her reasons for asking him to come in the afternoon and chose instead to take it as a rejection. When she explained that Linda was a fifteen-year-old teenager who needed her help, he had curtly informed her that if she’d rather help Linda, it was fine with him; and if she didn’t want her friends to meet him, he didn’t care to meet them. It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d see it that way.

Her wait that afternoon for Aaron was fruitless, and she realized belatedly that he hadn’t promised her he’d come. Dispirited, she called Marva in hopes that a good chat with her friend would lift her mood. They talked about everything but what bothered her, and she hung up feeling worse than before she’d called. She couldn’t settle into her work, and when she found herself pacing the floor, she followed her heart and telephoned Rufus.

Rufus allowed their conversation to stall after an exchange of pleasantries. He wasn’t going to engage in small talk with Naomi when there were so many important things they needed to discuss. Besides, he hated small talk. “Why did you call me, Naomi? You couldn’t be interested in my views on the weather. I’m a journalist, not a meteorologist.”

“I just wanted to talk, Rufus. Haven’t you ever just needed to talk?”

“Give me some credit, Naomi, and level with me. I know you didn’t call me at ten-thirty at night to talk about nothing. I thought that when we were in New Orleans, we progressed to the point where you could admit needing me. And later, we got to the point where you lay in my arms with me deep inside you and told me you love me.” Softness colored his voice, and he had to clear his throat when it clogged with emotion. “What happened since then, Naomi? You promised me you would tell me what this is all about as soon as you knew. I have a feeling that you know, and that you’ve made up your mind that I’m expendable. But for one, your heart refuses to follow your mind, and you’re in trouble.” She offered no comment when he paused. “How am I doing so far?” he asked with pretended jocularity.

“
I—I
think I’d better hang up, Rufus. This isn’t helping. Kiss the boys for me. Good night.”

His hand automatically replaced the receiver, but he still heard the quiet tears in her voice when she’d asked him to kiss the boys for her.

As soon as she hung up, Naomi jumped up. How could she have forgotten that it was Rufus’s thirty-fifth birthday? She hadn’t even arranged to give his birthday present. She removed the receiver and punched in his telephone number. She’d given her relationship with Aaron the highest priority and had removed everything and everyone else from her central thoughts. But even the slightest problem, no matter how inconsequential, turned her mind to Rufus and her need of him. She got a busy signal, hung up, and dialed again. Maybe it was the feeling she had in his arms, after he made love to her, that bound her irrevocably to him. When he folded her to him and held her, she soared, secure in the knowledge that he’d keep her safe no matter what, even in the eye of a hurricane. She heard his magnificent voice and sighed. “Happy birthday, Rufus.”

Naomi rubbed furiously at the finish on her Shaker rocking chair, one of the few things of her mother’s that she’d kept. She sat on the floor in front of the chair, looking at it, but seeing her life. Shiny in places, paint bare in some, and coming apart in others. The doorbell rang, and she looked at her watch, wondering which of four or five people she’d find there at ten o’clock in the morning. Aaron.

Wide-eyed with amazement, she took the bird of paradise he handed her and opened her arms to him, trying without success to control the trembling of her body as he hugged her back. He was trying to make up for yesterday, she knew, though there’d been no need for that. But they’d just passed a milestone. Maybe it was a good omen.

“I was out of line, yesterday, Noomie. I don’t know what got into me. I mean, just because this girl—uh, Linda—is a kid doesn’t mean you like her better than me. Does it?” Her heart raced in her chest at his admission that he wanted to be important to her. She held his hand as they walked down the hallway to the kitchen.

“No. And in your heart, you know that. Thanks for the flower; when it dries, I’m going to press it in the back of the family Bible.” She gave him a half dozen brownies and a mug of coffee.

A sheepish grin softened his face as he bit off a piece of brownie. “You are, huh? I’d better go. My mom’s got me painting my bathroom. Say, this is terrific. I’ll take the rest of this with me.” He looked down at the rocking chair. “That thing needs a lot of work. Leave it till the next time I come over. I refinished a couple of things for my mom. She liked what I did. Look, I gotta split.” She walked with him to the door, rested her hand on the knob, and waited. It was his move. His kiss on her cheek washed away a lot of the pain she’d felt the night before.