Unforgettable (10 page)

Vicki bolted through the door. “Ms. Louisa!”

D
iana hated hospitals, though she couldn't imagine anyone who didn't. As she sat next to her grandmother's hospital bed and clutched her limp hands, she was reminded of another time, of another special woman: her mother.

“I'm not ready for you to leave me,” she whispered, wiping away her tears. “It's too soon.”

She heard the door behind her open and then close. She didn't turn to see who had entered, but knew it was Tim by the faint scent of his cologne.

“Has there been any change?” he asked.

“She opened her eyes a few minutes ago.” Diana licked her dry lips. “She smiled, squeezed my hand, and then fell back to sleep.”

Tim's gentle hands settled on her shoulders. “That's good news.”

Diana nodded and more tears leaked from her eyes. The doctors had comforted her with talk of remission of the cancer, but she knew in her heart the time was drawing near and she would lose the last member of her family. Then what? What would she do then?

“Di, maybe you need to take a break.”

“I'm fine.” She shrugged his hands from her shoulders. “You can go if you like.”

“I'm not leaving you or Louisa.” He moved away and grabbed the chair from underneath the suspended television set.

“Does this mean that I'm going to have an audience while I'm sleeping?” Louisa's gruff voice drew their startled gasps.

“Nana.” Diana squeezed her hand. “You're awake.”

Louisa's eyes slowly fluttered open. “So it would seem.” She glanced around. “This place again.”

“When I got the call—I thought I lost you.”

“
We
lost you,” Tim corrected.

“Oh, you're not going to get rid of me that easily.” Louisa smiled and squeezed her granddaughter's hand. “I'm not ready to leave just yet.”

Diana's heart squeezed as her shoulders slumped with relief. As she stared at her frail grandmother, a list of what-ifs filled her head.

“No need to worry about things that are out of our control,” Louisa said as if reading Diana's mind.

“But is it something we can't control? What if through the treatments you could beat this thing?”

“And what if I can't?”

“Then at least I know I've done everything to pre
vent…” She sighed. “Giving up will always leave a door of questions open.”

Louisa's smile grew wider as her gaze became more loving. “Baby, I'm not going to live forever. This is a question of quality, not quantity. I'm probably not going to make it through the next three years. I know and understand. Now it's time that you do, too.”

Diana shook her head, not wanting to accept her Nana's words.

“Denial is only going to cause you more pain.”

Tim stood from his chair. “I'll give you two some time alone.”

The two women said nothing as they waited for him to leave the room.

“I'm not in denial.” Diana closed her eyes but realized she wasn't being honest. “Okay…maybe just a little. Three years?”

“Could be less, could be more.”

Louisa licked her lips and Diana quickly reached for the pitcher of water by the bed. She then helped Louisa sip from a plastic cup and repositioned her for added comfort.

“Thanks,” Louisa said, her smile ever present.

Diana shook her head, not sure how her grandmother could take such a serious matter so lightly.

“Baby girl,” Louisa said, reaching for her hand again. “It's time for you to live. That's what I intend on doing for whatever time I have left. I've had a fun and full life. I'm now looking forward to seeing what this heaven place is all about. I want to see my beautiful daughter again.
Not to mention I have two handsome husbands waiting, as well.” She winked.

Diana couldn't help laughing. “You're something else.”

“True. But I'm still worried about you, sweetie.”

“Why on earth would you be worried about me?”

Louisa sighed as she thought over her next words. “I'm worried because you won't live. Life is happening right now all around you and you don't know what to do with it. Travel; see the world. Trust yourself; discover yourself. Find love; give love. Do whatever it takes to be happy. Only then at the end of your own journey can you lie in a hospital bed with no regrets and looking forward to the next adventure.”

Diana allowed her grandmother's words to penetrate her heart and even felt them inspire her imagination. Why couldn't she travel the world or discover all the different sides of herself? As for love—wasn't she already in love? But was he a person worthy of real love or just a good time?

 

After placing his father on a plane for France, Marcel returned to his parents' house and promptly called a reputable maid service to perform a miracle. He weighed whether he should call and warn his mother that Donald was on his way, but in the end decided to let his father surprise her.

He didn't know what he would do if, in fact, his instincts were wrong and his mother truly wanted to be alone. But he knew for sure that if she returned to her
house in the condition he'd found it, the chances of a divorce would undoubtedly multiply.

It was nearly two in the morning when the maid service completed the job and Marcel wrote a check for double the amount of the invoice. They deserved it.

Too tired to drive home, Marcel retired to his old bedroom. It amazed him how his mother still refused to change the room, but it pleased him, as well. He lay down on the water bed he'd convinced his parents to buy back in the early eighties, knowing that in the morning his back might be a little stiff. But for this moment of nostalgia, he was willing to take that chance.

His gaze darted around the room and the various posters. Happy memories floated in his head as he stared at the likes of Dr. J and Magic Johnson. When he saw Larry Bird smiling back at him, he remembered the grief he got from the other kids on the block. The same as when he put up posters of Pete Rose and Joe Montana.

All in all, Marcel had had a wonderful childhood and so far a pretty good adult life. But there was still that hole. That very large hole in his life.

He thought over the deal he'd made with Solomon and now wondered whether it was a wise or even logical thing to do.

Probably not.

What qualities should he look for in a wife? A good cook—certainly. Someone warm, nice, and understanding. A sense of humor would be good. Oh, she must like animals. He thought about Diana and how he'd found her in the bottom of a closet and he couldn't help laughing out loud.

He'd known people who were afraid of dogs, but she took the cake. However, whenever he was around her, he was…comfortable. He frowned as he thought it over, but then shrugged it off.

There had to be plenty of women he was comfortable around. Ophelia was a good example. His thoughts went silent as he tried to come up with another name. Well, there was always Mom, he realized, but then laughed at himself when he heard his father's voice calling him a mama's boy.

“Diana,” he whispered. “Di.” Her image instantly materialized in his mind. And like always, he smiled at her perfections as well as her imperfections. In addition to her slightly off-centered nose, he'd discovered that one breast was slightly fuller than the other.

Marcel shook his head. This was definitely something a boss shouldn't know about his secretary. His thoughts lingered on the afternoon he'd wakened next to her. More importantly, he remembered the kiss they'd shared. There was so much passion behind it. He could honestly say that he'd never felt anything quite like it before.

“One lover,” he said into the dark. That was also different, considering this day and age. “And her first time was in college.”

Hell, he barely remembered his first time. He was sixteen, maybe fifteen. And even then it was with an older woman. Rachel Johnson was eighteen with dimples like Janet Jackson's. During the week after he'd lost his virginity, he was convinced that he was in love. He'd even bragged about it to all his friends.

That was until he and half the high school football
team witnessed Rachel necking with some college jock at the Varsity.

So much for love.

But now after so much time had passed, love was the very thing he craved.

Sighing, Marcel found his eyes growing heavy and proving difficult to keep open. As sleep descended, Diana's soft features remained in focus while he wondered fleetingly whether she was a good cook.

 

Diana fumbled her way into her apartment at God knows what time. The fact that she had to be at work in a few hours was laughable at best. If it hadn't been for Louisa's insistence that she go home, Diana would still be curled up in the reclining chair next to Louisa's hospital bed.

It was a good thing Tim had accompanied her. She could barely walk, let alone drive. She locked the front door and then soaked up the silence of the apartment. This would be what it would sound like when her grandmother…

Drawing a deep breath, Diana tried to shake the thought from her head, but it wouldn't go away.

She pushed open her bedroom door, but didn't go inside. The light in her grandmother's room drew her attention and instead she headed in that direction.

At the door's entrance, she smiled at the incredibly feminine décor. Golden floral prints intermingled with old Chantilly lace and there was even the weird combination of rose water and BenGay wafting in the air. The room brought a sad smile to her lips.

When her eyes fell to the trunk at the foot of the bed, she grew curious at the clutter around it. She walked over and sat down among the letters and photographs. She was familiar with most of them, but there were a few that raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah, right. Burlesque.” Diana smiled. As she shuffled through the old pictures, she wondered why her grandmother never pursued an acting career. Judging by the pictures, Louisa Mae Styles could have given Dorothy Dandridge a run for her money.

In pictures Diana witnessed Louisa's first African safari, the thrill of her first flying lesson and the first time she attempted to climb Mt. Everest. Key word there was
attempted.

Then came the pictures of two weddings. Of course she was beautiful in both of them. Not to mention that she had snagged two very attractive yet different men. The first husband was a professional musician who died before his time in a tour bus accident. The second husband, the one Diana knew as Grandpa, died from a massive heart attack around the time of the Iran Contra hearings.

One thing for sure, Louisa was right. She'd lived a full life and had apparently enjoyed every moment of it.

Exhaustion finally embraced Diana. She climbed up from the floor and dove into Louisa's bed as a matter of convenience. The photographs remained prominent in her mind as she fantasized by replacing the men in Louisa's life with images of Marcel Taylor.

The cut-and-paste images in her mind showed the couple they would make on their wedding day. In truth,
they made quite a couple. A beautiful couple. “Find love and give love.” Louisa's voice drifted around her. Maybe it was time that Diana did just that.

I
t was not the day to be late for work, Marcel realized moments after he'd arrived. He'd missed his meeting with DreamWorks regarding producing future soundtracks. After that, he had scheduled interviews with
Vibe
and
The Source
magazines.

But what bothered him most now was Diana's absence.

“You know, you could call someone when you're planning to bail out on a meeting,” Solomon said, following Marcel into his office.

“My bad, man,” Marcel said, settling behind his desk. “You wouldn't believe the day I had yesterday with Pop.”

Solomon held up his hands. “Say no more.”

Marcel laughed, but still didn't divulge what his parents were going through at the moment. Maybe after
everything was resolved he would talk about it. “You haven't heard from Diana this morning, have you?”

“Not a word. I was actually starting to think you two were together somewhere.”

Marcel frowned as he looked up at him.

Solomon just shrugged. “Hey, you're the one with the runaway lips.”

“That's not funny.”

“It wasn't meant to be.” He winked and slid his hands into his pants pockets. “Maybe I should invite Diana to the masquerade ball so she could be a contender in our little project.”

“You're a regular comedian this morning.”

“You mean this afternoon.” Solomon eased into the chair across from Marcel. “It was just a thought. After all, you kissed her because you thought it was a dream. I don't know, I might be out in left field, but maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you something.”

A snappy reply eluded Marcel.

A wide grin split Solomon's face as if he read something in his friend's expression. “There's something you're not telling me.”

 

Diana had meant to grab just a few hours of sleep before returning to the hospital, but instead woke up well into the afternoon.

“Oh, my God.” She scrambled out of bed and tripped onto the floor.

“Diana?” Tim's voice drifted down the hall, and in the next second the door to Louisa's bedroom jerked open.

She blinked as she stared up at him. “What are you doing here?” she asked, standing.

“Lou and I just arrived a half hour ago.”

“Nana?” Diana pushed past him and rushed to the living room where, sure enough, Lou sat in her favorite spot on the sofa. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here, silly.”

Tim joined them as he leaned against the antique upright piano. “She insisted on being released this morning.”

“I tried to call you,” Louisa said and took a sip of her tea. “But apparently you didn't hear the phone.”

“Yeah, when we got here you were sleeping like a log.”

Diana remained confused. “Did the doctor say it was all right for you to leave?”

“Doctors don't know everything,” Louisa snorted and then flashed a wide smile. “According to them I should have kicked the bucket years ago.”

Diana held her tongue and thought better of giving a speech or lecture. What difference would it make? Louisa Mae was going to do what she wanted. She always had. So instead, Diana walked over to her and leaned down to give her a long, tight hug. “Sorry, I didn't hear the phone.”

Louisa affectionately patted her arm. “Don't worry about it. Apparently you needed the rest.”

Tim moved from the wall to a recliner. “Frankly, I thought your workaholic butt went to work.”

“Work!” Diana jumped with wide eyes. “Ohmigosh.”
She raced over to the phone, but hesitated before picking it up.

“What is it, dear?” Louisa asked, frowning.

“Maybe I should go in and explain what happened. It's sort of late to be calling, don't you think?”

Tim looked at his watch. “It's just after one. Given the circumstances, I think he'll understand.”

“Yeah.” Diana bobbed her head. “You're right.” She picked up the phone, but then put it down again. “I still think maybe I should go in and talk to him.”

Tim chuckled. “You can't miss work for one day, can you?”

“I'm not going in to actually work. I think I should talk to Marcel…Mr. Taylor.” She nodded. “You know, I think I'm going to take a few days…a week…a couple of weeks off to spend with Nana.”

Tim's and Lou's brows rose in surprise.

Diana lifted her chin, once again feeling Louisa's words from last night inspire her. “And when I get back, we're all going out to dinner. That's if you're up to it.”

Louisa clapped her hands together. “I'm always up for a night out.”

Diana smiled. “I think we can manage it.” She turned and went to get ready.

 

Given the late hour, Marcel grew concerned over Diana's absence. Had she told him that she would be off today?

“She must have,” he answered himself, but still debated whether he should place a call to her home or cell phone to make sure.

He left his office and went out to Diana's desk to see if anything was written on her day calendar. When he sat behind her desk, he was disappointed to find no notation on the day's date about being out. However, there was something sticking out from beneath the calendar.

Marcel pulled out a sheet of paper and turned it over to see that it was a letter addressed to him.

“Letter of resignation?” He looked up to see if anyone was in the vicinity and then quickly folded the paper and stuffed it into his jacket.

“Mr. Taylor?”

His heart leaped as his eyes jumped up to a frowning Diana.

“What are you doing at my desk?”

He blinked, momentarily stumped as to why he was out there himself.

Her brows lifted. “Are you looking for something?”

“Y-yes.” He stood. “I came to take a look at your calendar to see if you'd marked a doctor's appointment or something.” He forced an awkward smile. “I didn't remember you telling me that you'd be off today.”

She nodded as if satisfied with his answer. “No, I didn't. Do you mind if we go into your office? I want to talk to you about that.”

Marcel's heart squeezed. Was she about to resign now? “Sure.” He smiled again and then led the way to his office. He held the door open as she entered and pretended the sweet smell of vanilla that clung to her skin had no effect on him.

“So,” he said, closing the door. “What can I do for you?”
Please, don't quit.

Diana clasped her hands in front of her. “I need to take some time off.”

The air in Marcel's chest rushed from his lungs as his shoulders slumped in relief. “Time off?”
Thank God.

“I know this is on short notice but…the truth is my grandmother is sick. And I want to spend some time with her.”

Whatever he had expected her to say, it wasn't this. “I'm sorry to hear that.” He quickly remembered the feisty little old lady from Club Secrets and he was surprised that she was actually sick. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No. I just need to take this time off.”

He nodded. “Of course. Take as long as you need.”

“I can call that temporary service we always use for a replacement.”

“Don't worry about that. I'll get someone in human resources to take care of it.” He paused, and then asked the question he really wanted to know. “Do you know how much time you'll need?”

She dropped her gaze. “I'm not really sure. A few weeks, maybe a month.”

Again he nodded. “Why don't we say six weeks for now and then you can call and let me know if you need more?”

“I doubt I can afford that much time off,” she said disappointedly.

“You have plenty of vacation time, plus you've never used any of your sick time either. So I'm sure that you have more than enough to cover it.”

Her smile seemed more relaxed as she looked up at him. “You're probably right.”

When their gazes locked, the room filled with silence while the temperature climbed a few degrees.

“You
are
coming back, right?” he asked.

“I plan to. Yes.”

“Good.” He smiled, but doubt lingered in his mind. He did after all have her letter of resignation burning a hole in his pocket.

“Well, I guess I better get going,” she said, stepping backward. “Thanks so much for understanding on such short notice.”

“Not a problem.”

She turned away, but he stopped her when her hand landed on the doorknob.

“We're going to miss you around here.”

The loud silence returned before Diana glanced over her shoulder at him. “I'll miss you guys, too.” She opened the door and waltzed out.

When it closed behind her, she drew in a deep breath and released it in a long sigh. Even still her heart continued to race. Once again, she'd imagined Marcel meant more than what was said. She was also sure that she'd misread his dark searching gaze when she stood before him.

“You and your wishful thinking.”

“There you are, Diana.” Chelsea rushed over to her. “I was wondering where you were today.”

“Oh, hey, Chelsea.” Diana moved over to her desk to take a few things home. “What can I do for you?”

“Actually.” Chelsea lowered her voice as she followed her. “It's more like what I can do for you.”

Diana frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, surely you heard about the masquerade ball that Mr. Taylor and Mr. Bassett are going to next week?”

“Oh, you mean the one Mr. Taylor doesn't want to go to?”

Chelsea giggled. “That's probably it. Well, this is the ball all the girls are dying to attend.”

“The girls in the office?”

“Yep.”

Diana shrugged. “Why?”

Chelsea emitted another giggle and then leaned in closer. “Because this is the place where Marcel Taylor is going to search for his future wife.”