You Belong To Me (5 page)

Authors: Patricia Sargeant

BOOK: You Belong To Me

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Malcolm paused, searching for the right words to persuade her. “We need to develop a working relationship. Or are you afraid of finding out how well we'll work together?”

Nicole's ebony eyes sparked, and Malcolm braced himself for the eruption. Instead, he heard a door squeak and a childlike voice called, “Momma?”

Malcolm looked toward the voice. He froze as a little girl weaved sleepily into the room. Her hair was gathered in two mussed braids. A pale yellow flannel gown hung to her ankles and billowed around her thin body. Malcolm couldn't breathe.

“Hi, baby. Did we wake you?”

Nicole greeted the child in a sweet, soft tone that made his heart weep. She pulled the little girl onto her lap and nuzzled the top of the child's head with her lips. Here was love, he thought, rubbing his chest. How much he had missed it.

“I had a dream. I thought I heard my momma,” the child whispered. She rested her cheek on Nicole's chest and closed her eyes.

Nicole tucked the little girl closer into her, creating a warm cocoon around them that left him on the outside, yearning in.

“Was it the sad dream again?” Nicole whispered back.

“Yes.”

Nicole kissed the crown of the girl's head. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not yet.” She wiggled closer still.

Nicole started to speak, then glanced at Malcolm and appeared to change her mind. “Okay. I'll be here when you're ready.”

“Okay.” The little girl sighed. When she opened her eyes, her gaze locked with Malcolm's. “Good morning.”

Malcolm stared at her catlike ebony eyes like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Lynnie, this is Mr. Bryant. Mr. Bryant, my goddaughter, Lynnette. She's my cousin Simone's daughter.”

Regret swept through Malcolm. What had he missed these past four years? What could he have had if pride and fear hadn't crippled him?

“Good morning, Lynnie,” he said. “I hope our talking didn't wake you.”

“No, you didn't wake me.” She yawned wide before settling more comfortably into Nicole's lap.

Nicole tipped her wrist to check her watch. “Oops. We're running behind schedule, sweetie pie.” She rubbed Lynnette's upper arms before sliding the little girl off her lap. Lynnette claimed the seat Nicole vacated, sitting sideways in the chair and swinging her legs.

“What would you like for breakfast?” Nicole called over her shoulder as she hurried into the kitchen. “Scrambled eggs, sausage, hash browns, pancâ”

“Cereal,” Lynnette interrupted in a singsong voice that suggested this was a rehearsed exchange. She slid a look toward Malcolm, her lips tipped shyly. Malcolm winked at her, and Lynnette ducked her head as her smile blossomed into a chubby-cheeked grin.

“Just cereal?” Nicole called incredulously, continuing the script.

“Just cereal,” Lynnette affirmed. “Cereal andâ”

“Juice,” Nicole finished, carrying the requested meal on a tray. Once she'd placed the cereal, juice, and spoon on the table, she handed Lynnette a napkin, which the child crushed into the neck of her nightgown with pudgy, little hands.

“Thank you,” Lynnette said, digging into the bowl.

“I'm going to get your clothes together, sweetie.” Nicole stroked her goddaughter's hair. “Just call me if you need me.”

“Okay,” Lynnette answered, her attention on her cereal.

Nicole looked at Malcolm, and he understood her hesitancy. He gave her a reassuring smile to let her know he didn't mind watching Lynnette while Nicole was in the other room. Nicole hurried into what appeared to be her bedroom.

Malcolm returned his attention to his young companion, searching his brain for a conversational topic. He was accustomed to being around children. He visited with his nephews several times a year and spoke with them often on the phone. He was fluent in the language of Power Rangers, Transformers, and Dragonball Z. But somehow he didn't think those languages would interest this young-lady-in-training. He had steeled himself to ask about Blues Clues or even Barney, when she surprised him by opening her own dialogue.

“Are you a friend of my Aunt Nicky?”

“Yes, I am.”

“How come I haven't seen you before?” she asked between spoonfuls of Apple Jacks.

“I live in California. This is my first trip back to New York in a long time,” he added in an effort to extend the topic. Anything to avoid a discussion of Barney or Blues Clues.

“California?” Her eyes widened, and her spoon slipped from her fingers to clatter against the bowl. “Isn't that really far away?”

“Yes. It's about three thousand miles away.”

“Wow,” she breathed, concern coloring her tone. “How can you be friends with Aunty Nicky if you live so far away?”

“Well,” Malcolm searched for a simple answer, “we aren't close friends.”

Lynnette giggled at the unintended joke. She leaned forward eagerly, eyes sparkling in her small, brown face as she waited for his next comedic endeavor.

Malcolm laughed. “How old are you, Lynnie?”

“I'm four,” she stated. “I'll be five on my next birthday.”

With that, she launched into a discussion of her birthday plans: who she wanted to spend it with, where she wanted to go, and what she wanted to do. All the while, Malcolm wondered why the enthusiasm in the little girl's words wasn't reflected in her eyes.

Nicole reentered the room. “I'm sorry to break up the party, but it's time for you to hit the showers, sweetie pie.”

“Okay.” Lynnette hopped off the chair and dashed out of the room.

“Thank you for keeping her company,” Nicole said.

Malcolm grinned. “It was my pleasure.”

Pride and joy tinted her cheeks. “I'd better supervise her bath.”

A knock sounded at the door as Nicole turned to leave the dining area. She tipped her wrist to check the time before answering it.

“You're early.” Her words floated back to Malcolm as she greeted the new arrival. Although he couldn't see them, he could hear them, and Malcolm was concerned by the strain in Nicole's voice.

“How long does it take you to make cereal?” A male voice teased. Malcolm recognized the voice and prepared himself for the reunion with Nicole's overprotective younger brother.

“I have to do a bit more than make her cereal,” Nicole said. “I can't send her out on the street naked.”

“What's wrong?” Derrick asked.

“What makes you think something's wrong?”

“Well, for starters, you're blocking the door,” her brother observed dryly.

“Oh. Sorry. Come in.”

“Thank you.” Sarcasm dripped playfully from the baritone voice.

The door closed, and Malcolm heard footsteps coming toward him.

“Derrick,” Nicole said as she and her brother entered the room. “You remember Malcolm.”

Derrick's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “How could I forget?” he drawled.

Eyes that once had offered Malcolm friendship studied him coolly. Derrick took in the two place settings and the breakfast remains.

“Good to see you again, Derrick. How've you been?”

“Fine, thank you,” Derrick replied. “And you?”

“Fine.” Malcolm decided Derrick was probably waiting until Nicole was out of hearing range before delivering the retribution promised in his eyes.

“Aunty Nicky,” Lynnette sang out, “I'm ready for my shower.”

“I'll be right there, sweetie pie.” Nicole considered the two large men taking each other's measure. “Do whatever you want, but don't bleed on my furniture.” She turned in the direction of Lynnette's voice.

“What are you doing here?” Derrick asked.

The younger man's hostility triggered an answering antagonism in Malcolm. But Malcolm also had a sister. He understood Derrick's need to protect Nicole, so he decided against arguing and tried to reassure him.

“I wanted to discuss the movie project with Nicky,” he explained.

Derrick nodded. His gaze slid back to the table settings, half-eaten bagels, and coffee containers. “What are you really doing here?”

The question poked at Malcolm's temper. “I told you the truth.”

“Look.” Derrick's tone hardened. “I'm not comfortable with the feeling that we're sacrificing Nicole for Simone. But I know we don't have any choice.”

“What are you talking about?” Malcolm asked.

Derrick charged on, refusing to be sidetracked. “I'm warning you. If you hurt her again, you won't be able to hide this time.”

Malcolm's temper jerked against its leash at the accusation he had hid after the divorce. He had a feeling rousing his temper was Derrick's goal. Malcolm further suspected Derrick's cool exterior belied a desire to punch him out.

They stood in silence, ignoring each other. The minutes dragged by until Nicole glided back into the room with a skipping Lynnette in tow.

“We're clean, clean, clean,” Nicole sang. Her smile faltered as though sensing the tension in her modest dining room.

Derrick's face glowed when he saw his young cousin. Malcolm blinked at the speed with which the younger man's earlier animosity disappeared.

“How's my best girl?” He hunkered down to allow Lynnette to fly into his open arms. The little lady was dressed in a pale pink sweater and dark green corduroy pants.

Sounds of helpless laughter whirled around Malcolm. Nicole grinned as she watched her small goddaughter struggle to plant a noisy kiss on Derrick's cheek while straining to evade a similar attack.

“Get your coat, sweetie pie.” Nicole stroked Lynnette's neatly brushed hair. The little girl dashed out of the room.

Noting her brother scowling in Malcolm's direction, Nicole rubbed Derrick's upper arm. “We have more important things to worry about. Tell Aunt Rose that Lynnie had the sad dream again.”

Derrick's scowl changed to a frown of concern. “Did she tell you about it this time?”

Nicole shook her head. “No, she didn't. She acts as though it doesn't bother her, but she's had it too often. Something must be troubling her.”

Derrick nodded his agreement. “I'll tell Aunt Rose.”

Malcolm sensed his reluctance. Apparently, Nicole did, too.

“I don't want to burden her, either,” Nicole said. “But Lynnie needs us now, too.”

The subject of their concern skipped back into the room. “I'm ready,” she announced.

Nicole knelt and folded Lynnette into a bear hug. “Take care of Grandma.”

“I will.” Lynnette's thin, nut-brown arms wrapped just as desperately around Nicole.

Nicole drew back, allowing Derrick to take Lynnette's hand. “Be careful,” she said as she followed them to the door.

“I'll see you later,” Derrick answered.

“Bye, Mr. Bryant.” Lynnette threw a wave over her shoulder.

Malcolm smiled. “Bye, Lynnie.”

Derrick offered him a curt nod, then walked out.

Nicole sagged against the closed door. The need to comfort her propelled Malcolm forward. His protective instincts switched back on as though they'd never been apart, as though the divorce had never occurred. He'd always needed to keep her safe, even when she wouldn't let him.

He stopped just short of touching her, separated by a sigh, and spoke to her back. “What's wrong, Nicky?”

She flinched like a deer sensing danger. “Nothing.”

She squared her shoulders and turned to face him. The animation had drained from her features, leaving behind a polite mask. She was shutting him out again. “You're worried about Lynnie,” he pushed.

“She's having nightmares.” Nicole walked past him.

Malcolm pivoted to keep her in sight and changed the direction of his questioning. “What did Derrick mean when he said they were sacrificing you for Simone?”

Nicole shrugged. “You should ask Derrick.” She spoke over her shoulder, her gaze on the view outside.

“I did. He didn't tell me.”

“I'm afraid I can't tell you, either.”

“Can't or won't?” Malcolm envisioned a door closing between them.

Nicole turned to face him. “I've got a lot to take care of today, Malcolm. I'll see you Monday.”

Malcolm hesitated, reluctant to let the door shut. “Do you want to see a movie?”