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He didn’t seem a bit taken aback, considering her question. “I am. But I’m at a different state in my life. I want stability and a family. Right now, I don’t have either.”
“Is it you or her?”
“It’s a combination of things, and it’s too bad. What about you?”
“I’m sorry. As for me, I’ve never married or even come close to it. But I met someone recently who seems interesting.”
“He’s a lucky guy.”
She was surprised that he was so open about such personal matters. But she realized that he was vulnerable and seemingly very unhappy.
“Are you separated now, Matt?”
He nodded. “Yeah, but it suits me. The longer it lasts, the more I learn about myself and the happier I am.”
She sipped sweetened ice tea as she waited for Matt to finish his apple pie. She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t, because she knew he would see the pity in her eyes.
As they left the lunch room, she asked him, “Do you think you and your wife could make a go of it if she worked harder to understand your needs?”
“Maybe, maybe not. Neither is what the other needs.”
“Thanks for your company, Matt.”
“I thank you. Just talking about it has strengthened my resolve to put my life in order. You’re a good listener, and I’ll bet you’re a good counselor.”
“See you later.”
She sat down at her desk, leaned back and exhaled. She understood the wisdom of letting Byron know her feelings, and that meant letting him know her dreams and aspirations. She cared for him, and she wanted him.
At two-thirty, a tall, handsome and well-dressed teenager walked into Tyra’s office and extended his hand. She liked him at once. “Ms. Cunningham, I’m Jonathan Hathaway, and I hope you can help me,” he said. She asked him to have a seat.
“Thanks. My seventeen-year-old girlfriend is pregnant, and her dad won’t let us marry.”
“Did you date her without his permission?”
“No. I went to her house practically every evening, took her out or stayed there and did my homework with her. Sometimes he was at home, and sometime he wasn’t.”
“I don’t think the courts can give you permission to marry this girl so long as she’s under eighteen, but you do have some rights, and we’ll see that those rights are honored.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I sure hope so.”
She talked with him for half an hour and realized that they might be forced to go to court. “Where does your family stand in this, Jonathan?”
“They’re angry. She could stay with us and my folks would help me pay for everything, but her dad won’t allow it.”
“What is he demanding? He must want something.”
“Oh, he does. He’s asking for money.”
Tyra bit back her anger. “I’ll see what we have here and collect the resources that we need, Jonathan. Meanwhile, try not to worry. She’ll be eighteen in about six months, and her father will have no legal jurisdiction. Of course, we want marriage for the two of you before the child is born, if possible. You’re my number one priority.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I know you’ll do what you can.”
She said goodbye to Jonathan. She’d lost track of time and realized that it was past time to go home. She quickly packed up her things.
“How about a drink?” She looked up and saw Christopher Fuller holding the lobby door for her.
“No thanks. I’m in a hurry to get home.”
“If you’re in a hurry, why’d you stay so late? What were you doing? Making out with Cowan?”
“What I was doing is none of your business. I don’t have a damn thing to do when I get home. I just can’t stand you.” She whirled around and bumped into Matt. “Matt, this idiot says I’ve been making out with you. I’d appreciate it if you’d straighten him out.”
As she rushed off, she heard Matt say, “Come off it, Fuller. You wouldn’t know a lady from the pigs you lie around with. You’ve had one warning. If you don’t want a second one, you’d better change your tone.”
When she got home, she went to her bedroom, closed the door and kicked off her shoes. She’d decided it would be foolish to jeopardize her relationship with Byron merely to put her siblings in their place.
Byron was a block from his house when he remembered his promise to buy Andy a bicycle. A four-and-a-half year-old could handle one he reasoned. He turned the Cadillac onto Genstar Drive and headed for the Francis Scott Key Mall. Once inside the mall, Byron passed a bookstore window and saw a children’s book about Frederick, Maryland heroes. He went in and bought it. Andy loved stories that he could retell in his day school and was fast earning the title of class storyteller. Byron made a note to read the book first so that he could answer his son’s questions, and he knew there would be plenty of them.
Byron found the bicycle that he wanted, remembered to get a helmet and headed home. He pulled into his garage, left the bicycle and helmet in the car and entered the house through the kitchen. In his haste to greet Byron, Andy nearly fell out of the chair.
“I need a new story, Daddy. Kisha told one today, but nobody clapped.”
Byron lifted the boy into his arms and hugged him. “Why didn’t you clap?”
“I didn’t want her to be as good as me.”
“As good as I. You should have clapped. You’re good at it, and you can afford to be gracious to other children who try to tell stories.’
“Yes. But she wasn’t as good as I am.”
“Fine. Next time, I want you to lead the applause for her. Got it?”
“Yes, I will. But I don’t like the idea.”
Byron put Andy back in the chair and went up to his room. A search of the yellow pages in the telephone book gave him a choice of several gourmet restaurants, and he chose one. After ordering, he showered and dressed in black jeans, a T-shirt and black sneakers and went downstairs.
He handed his son the book he’d bought earlier. “Let’s read, Andy.”
“What’s the story about?”
“Important people who lived in Frederick long ago.”
“Good. I’m going to read slow, so I’ll remember it and I can tell it at school tomorrow.” The boy read the picture story in about fifteen minutes. “I love the story, Dad.”
Andy loved reading. Indeed, the boy had a sizeable library of books. It was becoming difficult to find new ones that challenged his skills. I’m going to have to start writing stories for preschool children, Byron said to himself. “If I get Andy’s imagination to working, it should be fun.”
At five-thirty, he rang Tyra’s doorbell, and, to his disappointment, Darlene opened the door. “Hello, Darlene. Are you the Cunninghams’ official doorman?”
“Hi, Byron. I think I detected a bit of sarcasm. Who do you want to see? Tyra or Clark? Clark’s in Baltimore.”
“Darlene, give me a little credit. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have a reason. Do you mind if I come in and wait for Tyra?”
“Sure. Something tells me that I get on the wrong side of you without trying.”
“Darlene, I told you I was expecting Byron at five-thirty.” Tyra walked in. “Hi. I’m sorry, Byron.”
He leaned over, kissed Tyra’s cheek. “It’s all right. We’ll make up for it.” Tyra cast a glance in Darlene’s direction, took Byron’s arm and ushered him out of the house.
“Do you realize I’ve never been to Gambrill Park?” she asked him as he opened the front passenger door for her. “And I’ve lived here all my life.”
“Something tells me that, when you were a teenager, you didn’t do much dating.”
“You’re right. I didn’t. I was seventeen when we lost our parents, and responsibility for my siblings and our home fell to me. I was scared to death of setting a bad example.”
He got in the car, eased his arm across her shoulder and turned to her. “I’ve waited all day for the greeting that Darlene deprived me of.”
She turned to him, snuggled closer and parted her lips. Heat plowed through him as she sucked his tongue into her mouth. He knew he should stop, but when he attempted to pull away, she clung to him. He braced his hands on her shoulders and eased her away from him. Her face bore a dazed expression.
He held her as close as he dared. “It’s still daylight, sweetheart. We could draw quite a crowd.” He’d meant it to be funny, but she didn’t smile. “What is it, Tyra? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I guess. I suppose I’m only now learning who I am. I surprise myself sometimes when I’m with you.”
Her words brought an inward smile and gave him a feeling she would never understand. If he was the man to teach her who she was, nothing would please him more. He knew she wasn’t an innocent. A woman without any sexual experience wouldn’t relate to a man as she did. But she’d missed something, and he couldn’t wait to fill the void.
“Don’t think you haven’t shown me a different side of myself. The good thing is that I like who I am with you,” he said, as he headed out Yellow Springs Road to Gambrill Park. “I’ve already picked out a space for us. It’s close enough to the bandstand, but far enough to protect the eardrums.”
After parking the car and locking it, he took a wicker picnic basket and a shopping bag from the trunk, walked with her to a big boulder and put the basket on it. “This boulder will not only make a great table, it’s a good back rest.”
“What’s in that?” she asked, pointing to the shopping bag.
“A blanket to sit on, and two longs-sleeved shirts, one to protect your arms from the mosquitoes and the other to protect mine. I also brought along some repellant. Mosquitoes hate that.”
He spread the blanket and sat down beside her. “Would you put your head on my shoulder for a few minutes?” he asked her. “I’m not rushing you, but I’d like you to be a little closer.” He was still hot from her kiss in the front seat of his car.
She did as he asked and put one arm around his back and the other across his chest. “I could go to sleep right here,” she said, her voice low and inviting.
“Tyra, you don’t want me to rush, so don’t feed my imagination with statements like that.”
“It was an innocent remark. What time does the music start?”
“It started when you appeared at your foyer.”
When the sound of musicians tuning their instruments reached their ears, Byron handed Tyra a copy of the evening program and opened his own. “You read it to me,” she said. “I’m too comfortable to move, and I’d have to let go of your waist.”
He read it to her and added, “We’re in luck, or at least I am. I love Italian baroque chamber music.”
“Me, too. The problem is that it puts me right to sleep.”
“We’ll have our picnic in a few minutes. I don’t suppose you can eat and sleep at the same time.”
She kissed his neck, and he wished she’d warned him. “I guess not. I don’t remember ever dreaming about food. And that’s weird, because I love to eat.”
He covered the boulder with a blue tablecloth, set the table with the matching plates and utensils the caterer supplied and placed their food on it.
“This is wonderful, Byron. A feast beneath the stars in a fairy-tale environment, listening to beautiful music in the company of a man who is literally a heartthrob. If I act a little giddy, who could blame me?”
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Don’t expect me to behave when you talk like this.” He held a glass of white wine to her lips. “I’ve been drunk on you since the minute I first saw you. If you keep talking like that, I’ll start staggering.” It was all right to joke and tease, but he was serious. “Tyra, I asked you if there was a man in your life, and you said that there wasn’t. Will you give me a chance to be the man in your life?”
She seemed taken aback. “Isn’t that what you’re doing now?”
“No, not yet.”
“If I know up front what your motive is I might cooperate.”
“Fair enough.” He swatted the side of his neck to discourage an offending mosquito. Then he opened the shopping bag and took out the shirts he’d brought.
“Thanks. You’re a very thoughtful man.”
“If you give me a chance, Tyra, I’ll always take good care of you. Always.”
Chapter 4
On the way home from the concert, Tyra mulled over Byron’s words, and especially her memories of his gentleness throughout the evening. He’d done everything but feed her by hand. Now, he wanted her to confine her male companions to him.
Tyra didn’t want any man but Byron. Yet, she wasn’t sure that not seeing other men made sense. She could count on one hand the men she’d dated and still have fingers left.
“You’re very quiet,” Byron said. “Is there a something bothering you?”
“I’m not sure. There isn’t another man in my life, but I’m not certain that I want to promise you that there won’t be. There are times when my attraction to you frightens me. I love being with you. and I’m happy when I’m with you But suppose I’m making a mistake? Don’t you ever doubt your feelings, Byron?”
“I appreciate what you’re saying, even though I don’t like it. I especially appreciate your honesty. I’m forty years old, and I know who I am. I don’t doubt my feelings for you one bit. Are you telling me that you don’t trust a relationship with me?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m wondering if I’ve had enough experience to know…I mean to judge what I’m feeling. It happened so suddenly, and it…seems like we’re moving too fast.”
“No relationship stands still, Tyra. It either grows, or it begins to die. Are you afraid?”
“Believe me, it’s definitely not dying.”
“If you want to stop seeing me, tell me right now.”
When she turned to look at him, she saw that the firm set of his jaw did not match the softness with which he spoke. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so candid. “No, I don’t want to stop seeing you. I love being with you.”
“But you don’t trust the relationship.”
“That’s too harsh. I trust you, and I… Oh, why did I start this.”
He parked in front of her house, cut the motor and turned to her. “Will you or won’t you stop seeing other men and give us a chance?” He looked into her eyes, unsmiling, and she knew what would come next if she said no. If the truth were known, he had no cause for concern. Don’t make the biggest mistake of your life, girl. He’s asking for the truth.
