The Way You Make Me Feel (16 page)

“I
still can't believe you went and did the marriage thing!” Damien's very attractive oldest brother, Marty, with his ruddy face and tall, fit body, hugged his brother tightly and turned the charm onto Stevie. “You sure know to pick 'em,” he said to Damien.

“Tell me something I don't know,” Damien growled. “Now who'll you have to tease mercilessly? I waited and I won.”

“As if we didn't,” Marty retorted, as his wife Caitlin came up. A lovely woman with satiny skin and brown hair, she had a girl and a boy of three, twins, in tow. Malinda and Caleb Myles. Both looked like brown dolls.

Three of the Steele men, Mel, Marty and Damien, and their wives, were on the beach beside the Chesapeake Bay that rolled less than a mile from the Steele home. It was midmorning and the air was superbly fresh. The sun warmed their bodies and lent a welcome brightness. Dosha and Christian fussed over their eight-month-old who lay in a bassinet in the shade.

Damien chucked the baby under her chin. “Magdalena Rispa Socorro,” he said softly. “You're one beautiful baby, like your ma, but your uncle's gonna give you another cousin soon.”

Dosha turned and laughed. “Don't be in such a rush. Take time to enjoy each other first.”

“We're doing that,” Damien assured her. “But we're in a hurry. We're not getting any younger.”

Dosha smiled. “Nor very much older. You've got time.”

Looking at his little nieces and his nephew, Damien's heart expanded and for the first time in a long time he felt a part of this group. But he knew, too, that if something happened and Stevie didn't conceive, he had her, and the depth of his feelings surprised him, because he knew this quickly—he never intended to let her go.

Rispa fretfully glanced at her watch as caterers pulled up and began to unload. “It's like Adam to be late. God only knows what's come up in his world.”

“Adam's a detective lieutenant in D.C.,” Damien explained to Stevie. “His wife, Raven, is a TV investigative reporter and they have a blended family—her daughter, Merla, who's nine and his son, Ricky, who's fifteen.”

“I'll be happy to meet them,” Stevie said and just then a tan van pulled onto the beach. The family piled out and again she and Damien were hugged tightly by Adam, Raven, Merla and Ricky.

It was Ricky who hollered in a breaking voice, “You did it, Unc. Good for you!”

Merla hugged her uncle and clung to him for a moment. Then Damien cleared his throat. “Here's my better half, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart, Stevie Simms Steele. She's the best move I ever made.”

The four people hugged Stevie and welcomed her to the family. She found the tall, fit, chocolate-skinned Adam handsome, and his wife, the golden-skinned Raven, beautiful. The boy was like his father, chocolate and quick-witted, and the girl was like Raven except she was brown; it was plain that she was destined to break some hearts.

Rispa came to them, shook her head. “When you two get to Heaven, you're going to be just a little bit late. What happened?”

“Hey, Mom,” Adam protested. “Like you said, we're just a little bit late and nothing happened. We parked on an incline coming out from D.C. and just looked at the sun shining over the trees. We knew you'd approve.”

Rispa smiled, reflecting that Adam had always been able to charm her in any situation. He had always been the most endearing child. But it was Damien who'd claimed her heart early and who, with his sometime wild ways, had hurt her. Now he'd brought home a wife she approved of and she was happier than she had dreamed she'd be where he was concerned.

Everybody got in line for anti-insect sprays and the caterers began to line up the long tables which they covered with gaily flowered cloths. The food stayed in the refrigerated and heated containers because it would not be served until early afternoon, but they all had been cautioned not to eat too much for breakfast, to save room for the picnic feast.

Slices of early watermelon, cantaloupes and honeydew melons were under clear plastic. The children were vividly enthusiastic about the fruit and had to have some.

The women all wore swimsuits under their summer clothes and the men wore bathing trunks. Stevie was glad she looked nice in her pale yellow sundress that flattered her brown skin. Happily glancing around, she admired the Steele clan and wished the one from Mel's first marriage, along with his children, had been there. The Steeles who were here were a magnificent bunch, she decided. Attractive, fit, deep into their drive for love, loving each other and involved in their life and their community. Her beloved mother and father would have been proud of her. And they would have loved Damien.

Ricky came to Damien as he stood with Stevie. “Hey, Unc, you really did it for yourself. I like your choice of a woman.”

Damien grinned and slapped Ricky's back. “I always told you I'd take my time and I'd pick a winner.”

Adam, Raven and Merla stood a little distance away and they walked back to Stevie, Damien and Ricky. “I really love your CDs and I love country music,” Raven told Stevie. Raven half closed her eyes. “I guess I've liked everything you've done, but I favor ‘I Don't Need You Anymore.' I always tell Adam, if we ever break up—which we never will—I'll sing that song to him as my swan song.” She smiled at him impishly and he kissed her cheek.

Ricky and Merla watched the affectionate display between their parents and Ricky shook his head. “Why do grownups always kiss on each other?”

Damien looked at his nephew. “I give you a couple of months and you'll understand.”

Adam scoffed. “A couple of months? This kid is already giving the girls the onceover. He's got three girls calling him around the clock. We're lucky if he doesn't become a playboy.”

“Wel-l-l,” Ricky teased, “I don't wanna be telling tales out of school, but I've got an uncle who took no prisoners.”

“But when I settled, I really am settled,” Damien shot back. “Just be sure you do, as well.”

“I'm gonna wait like you did.” But the boy's face clouded a bit. “On the other hand, Mom and Dad married when they were nineteen. I may go that route. Who knows?” His voice had grown gruff and he wished he hadn't brought up the subject. His mother had been killed in a plane crash as she was returning from France. He had been just five years old, and, although he loved Raven dearly, he still remembered his mom.

The little group went to visit Magdalena who cooed and welcomed them. Stevie and Damien thought she was so precious in her little blue cotton outfit. She looked as if she were completely aware of her power over these people and knew she held them in the palm of her tiny hand.

“Hey, I got an idea!” Ricky's cracking voice proclaimed. “How about a foot race along the beach?”

“Why? So you can beat our socks off?” his father teased him.

“Aw, I'll hold back. It's not like I'm an athlete.” He turned to Stevie. “I'm into music in school. I'm on the drums in the band, but I'm just a fool for running.”

Stevie nodded. “I'd like a race. I was an athlete in high school.”

Ricky was impressed. “When did you ever find the time? Weren't you into music?”

“You'd better believe it, but my father played amateur basketball and we had hoops out back. I shoot a mean basket.”

“Hey, you've really got it going on,” Ricky chortled, even more impressed by her tales of athletic prowess than by her songs.

The men and Ricky lined up for a run down the beach, but the women, except for Stevie, demurred. They set a goal far down the beach and Stevie began running by Damien's side. She felt exhilarated as oxygen filled her lungs from the pure bay air and a sense of joy permeated her body. The race brought back the past when she and her parents had run together on the farm they owned. Her mother was more of a fitness buff than her father. They used to run, then fall in a loving heap on the grass at the end of the run.

Rispa, Caitlin, the twins, Roy and Raven all walked to the finish line to wait for the runners to come in. Sarah and Dosha stayed behind, Sarah to supervise the caterers and Dosha to watch Magdalena.

At first Ricky took the lead and he glanced at Stevie from time to time, but she was unmindful of anything except the race. Then Adam took the lead for a brief while. But Stevie forged ahead by some magic and the men all gasped their surprise. Laughter shook her and laughter slowed her and Ricky passed her, intent on winning. His youth and his drive made him a formidable opponent and in the end he won hands-down.

Christian congratulated him. “You're outstanding,” he told the boy.

Ricky flushed and hugged his new uncle whom he had come to like so much.

Adam caught his gangling son and held him fast at the finish line. So little time a boy, so long a man, but Adam knew that all their lives they would be close. Now Merla threw herself on her big brother with fierce hugs. “You won!” she kept crying.

“Yeah.” Ricky swaggered, unable to keep it down any longer. “I'm always gonna win.”

After resting, most of the group swam in the warm bay waters. A lifeguard had been hired by the family and he patrolled the beach with a watchful eye. Damien kept looking at Stevie in her emerald-green two-piece swimsuit that set off her superb figure and pride filled him. But he grew thoughtful. In such a short time, it wasn't her figure or her loveliness that held him. It was her warmth, her caring spirit, her
life force
. She had it for him; that much was certain.

The men and the women swam, racing a bit first, then settling down. Ricky and Merla splashed each other. Damien dove beneath the water and gripped Stevie's ankles, pulling her under as she sputtered helplessly. Underwater, he gave her a sizzling kiss and they came up with her blushing. “I'll think of some way to get back at you,” she said, giggling.

“You just did get back at me for all you were worth,” he shot back. “Tell me you didn't enjoy it.”

“I'd be lying. I loved it.” He put his arms around her and brushed the water from her eyes.

Ricky and Merla enjoyed the rubber rings the lifeguard had provided and they rode out a little, but the lifeguard cautioned them back.

“Hey,” Ricky called to Stevie. “You're a barrel of fun, lady.”

“Thank you,” Stevie called back. “You're a barrel of fun yourself.”

Music from a CD player sounded then. Roy had turned it on and Dosha had brought a stack of Stevie's and other CDs from the Steele home. What a perfectly beautiful day, Stevie thought, as a flock of seagulls landed on the beach, hungry for the bits of food they found nearby.

For a few moments some dark clouds rolled in and Rispa groaned. “We can't have bad weather. I won't allow it.” But soon the clouds passed and the sun shone brightly again. Smells of delicious food wafted up the beach as the day lengthened. It was very warm for May. A hot spell.

They came out of the water in a bunch and fell on the sand. Then Mel stood up. “I've got an idea,” he said. “I know you're on holiday, but I sure would be proud if you'd sing at least one song for us, Mrs. Stevie Steele.”

And Stevie thought there it was again, that beautiful alliteration that pleased her so. Mrs. Stevie Steele.

“I'd be honored,” she said. “I'll have to sing a capella since I have no guitar, but tell me what you want to hear.”

Damien raised his eyebrows. “Oh, yes, you've got a guitar. I sneaked one into the trunk as a surprise. I knew Dad would be asking. He really likes your music.”

Damien walked back to where the cars were parked to get the guitar. Mel said, “Now I think we should take a vote. I favor ‘I Don't Need You Anymore.' And any others you'd bless us with.”

The others discussed it, and Ricky looked at them drolly, narrowed his eyes and said, “I favor ‘Love Be Good To Me Tonight.'”

Adam laughed. “That's a trifle old for you, boy, but I favor it, too.”

Christian smiled. “That's certainly one of my favorites, and one of Dosha's.”

The group moved to shade under a grove of sycamores as Damien came back with a guitar which he handed to Stevie. “If you'll do just two songs for us, we'll be forever grateful,” Mel said humbly.

Stevie tuned the guitar and exercised her voice for a few bars, then began “I Don't Need You Anymore” as Ricky snapped his fingers. “Yeah, yeah, Mama,” he chortled. And his smiling father cautioned, “Ricky, son, curb your enthusiasm just a bit.”

Ricky laughed. “I can't help it. Her music grooves me.”

Raven knew all the words to the song and hummed along. Stevie was at her best and her mezzo-soprano voice was rich and heady on the spring air. Birds came to sit on tree limbs and stopped singing. Did they listen? Stevie wondered.

When Stevie sang “Love Be Good To Me Tonight,” the group was hushed and Ricky sat, hardly breathing.

“That's so pretty,” Merla said.

“You're not old enough to really appreciate it,” Ricky teased her. “Another ten years or so.”