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“You don’t understand,” she whispered. “You brought something out of me that I didn’t know was there, and I…I don’t know whether I’m happy about it.”
“There are things about you that I don’t understand, but your reaction to me tonight is not one of them. We’re attracted to each other, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re concerned because you would have preferred to control your feelings, but your passionate response has made me want you that much more.” He released her and took out a pad and pen. “What’s your phone number? I’ll call you in the morning around nine. Okay?”
She gave him her number, and he wrote it down. “Get home safely.”
A wide grin roamed over his face. “Don’t think for a minute that I’m leaving here without another kiss. You’ve got a lot to make up for.”
She opened her arms, but his kiss was quick. “You are one sweet woman. Good night.”
As Warren loped down the stairs, somehow he didn’t notice the distance. He stopped at the eleventh floor not because he was tired, but because he was so overcome with excitement that he felt light-headed. Jackie’s response to him had exceeded his wildest fantasies about her. He’d been at the point of erection—something he used to be able to control—when she stepped away from him and called a halt to the sweetest and most honest loving be could remember.
He leaned against the wall and breathed deeply. What would she do if she decided to make love with him? What would she be like? Shudders raced through him when he thought of the way she moved against him. “Get yourself together, man,” he said aloud. “You’ve got a long way to go with the mysterious Jackie Parks. You need to take it slowly.”
Nevertheless, when he awoke Thanksgiving morning, he could hardly wait until eight o’clock, which he considered a reasonable hour to telephone a person. He’d said he would call her at nine, but an hour didn’t make a big difference, did it?
“Good morning, Jackie,” he said when she answered. “I know it’s early, but I’ve been waiting for a decent time to call you.”
“This isn’t a decent time.”
He flushed with unexpected heat. “You’re still in bed? I…” He caught himself. He wished he was in that bed with her, but it was a little too soon to tell her that. Warren suspected that Jackie had some lines that he’d better not cross. He sensed that she was holding back. So instead, he said, “I’d lie if I said I was sorry. I couldn’t wait to talk with you. Think you can wake up sufficiently to talk with me?”
“Sure. I just have to get a drink of water or something. Catch me when I’m half-asleep, and I’ll promise you Fort Knox.”
He stared at the phone. Who was this woman? Nearly asleep, she spoke in a voice that was as refined as if she were wide-awake and measuring every word.
“I’m back. What time is it?”
“Eight o’clock. Do you always sleep late?” he asked with a chuckle. “Well, I guess you do, since you work at night.”
“No, I don’t,” she said, “but I woke up around seven, and I just didn’t want to get up. Besides, I’d been having such a wonderful, restful sleep that I—” She stopped as if she’d said too much.
“That you what?” he asked her.
“I’m not going to tell you.”
“Then I’ll take it that you dreamed about me.”
“Worse things have happened.”
He couldn’t help laughing. “You’re wide-awake now, and I can hear that you have your wits about you. Can we have lunch? I’d like to go home later today to have dinner with my folks, but I also want to share Thanksgiving Day with you. Will you be hungry at noon?”
“I’d love to have lunch with you, but I want to have lunch with my father today since I can’t have dinner with him. They serve dinner around five-thirty at the clinic and, as you know, I have to be at work at six-thirty.”
The temptation to ask her to skip work loomed large, but he didn’t know her financial circumstances and, in any case, he valued dependability in an employee. “Then, can we have lunch tomorrow and spend the afternoon together? I’d like you to visit my Harlem Clubs.”
“What time?”
Nothing coy or coquettish, and he liked that in a woman. “May I come for you at twelve-thirty?”
“I’ll be ready. What time did the electricity come on last night?”
“It was on when I awoke at a quarter of seven. I’ll be eternally grateful for that blackout.”
“Come now, Warren. You would have figured out a way for us to spend time together. I can’t believe you wouldn’t have.”
“After discounting half a dozen ideas and being frustrated because you’re not in the phone directory, I had decided to give you my phone number and suggest you use it. Fortunately, I was saved by the inefficiency of Consolidated Edison.”
Her laughter, soft and sensuous, rolled over him, warming him like a sweet promise on an early spring evening. “That’s a stretch,” she said. “I can’t imagine there’s anything you set yourself to do that would get the better of you.”
“You know how to make a man feel good. Did you mean that?”
“Of course I meant it, otherwise, why would I say it? Hang up so I can get my act together. I want to buy some flowers and a box of chocolate for my dad, and it takes a while to get to Riverdale. See you tomorrow.”
“A really sweet woman would give me a kiss.”
She made the sound of a kiss. “Somebody’s been spoiling you.”
“How I wish! I haven’t stood still long enough to enjoy that, but I’m definitely going to change my ways. Until tomorrow.”
Tomorrow wouldn’t come fast enough for him. He told himself not to speculate about her, but to ask her anything that he wanted to know. Yet, he’d had enough experience to realize that an answer didn’t necessarily reveal the truth. He’d always thought that neither her manners nor her speech were what one would expect of a woman serving drinks in a gentlemen-only club. And as far as he could see—and he was a careful observer—she didn’t have a relationship with any man in that club.
She had impressed him as being modest when she changed out of that skimpy uniform, obviously unwilling to entertain him in her home while wearing it. A more worldly woman would not have done that. More points in her favor. But if I’m wrong, God help me. She’s in me, and she has been for months.
He went to the kitchen, put some frozen Belgian waffles into the toaster and four strips of bacon in the microwave and reheated coffee. “I’m not going to give up on her,” he said to himself. “I’ve got a gut feeling that whatever she is underneath is what I want.”
He didn’t care to eat lunch alone, so he dressed and went to the Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen on Ninth Avenue and helped serve food to the more than a thousand homeless and poor, who came there for a free Thanksgiving Day meal.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, Jacqueline placed the receiver in its cradle and braced her hands on her knees. Hadn’t she vowed not to get involved with any man at Allegory, regardless of his status as a member or an employee? Yet, in all of her thirty-three years, she had never felt the passion for a man that she felt for Warren Holcomb, nor had she responded to one as she did to him. She got up and headed to the kitchen. Maybe a cup of coffee would help her clear her head. If he preferred the type of woman she appeared to be in her micro-mini waitress uniform and spiked-heel sandals, he wasn’t for her, nor she for him.
When I went to work at Allegory, I was only trying to be a dutiful daughter. Lord, please help me out of this mess. I believe he’s a good man, and I…I want him. What am I going to do? His type of man doesn’t fall in love with the woman he thinks I am.
If she continued to worry about her relationship with Warren Holcomb, she’d soon be a basket case, so she called her sister. “Happy Thanksgiving, Vanna. What are you and the children doing today?”
“We’re having a picnic with a neighbor down the street. She has a girl and a boy the age of my oldest two, and they get on well together. I called Daddy a few minutes ago, and he really was upbeat. He even told me one of his jokes. When you see him today, give him a hug for me.”
“I will. I plan to see him at lunchtime. He’s always liveliest at midday. By dinnertime, he’s usually tired. I’ll call tomorrow and let you know how he’s doing.”
“All right, Jacqueline. The Lord will bless you. I know that taking care of our father is a sacrifice on your part. If I could do more, I would, but I haven’t received a child support payment in three years. The court can’t locate Arnold to serve the papers, and my teacher’s salary hardly enables me to pay the mortgage on this house. The moral of my story is be careful who you marry. Love and passion don’t necessarily last.”
“I’m not thinking marriage these days, Vanna, but sometimes I wish I was.”
“Your day will come. Whoever he turns out to be, I hope he’ll be worthy of you. Have a wonderful day, sis. Bye.”
She hung up and told herself not to think about Vanna’s situation. As inexperienced as she was with men, she knew enough to shy away from men like Vanna’s ex-husband. The man was all charm and no substance, but neither she nor their parents had been able to make Vanna see it. Shaking off her gloomy thoughts, she dressed, walked over to Broadway to buy flowers and chocolates for her father, picked up her rental car and headed for Riverdale.
She found her father sitting in a chair beside his bed, and his face glowed with delight when she walked in. “How are you feeling, Daddy?” She put the roses in a vase and handed him the chocolates.
“Pretty good. Thanks for the candy. You know I love chocolate.” He nodded toward the flowers. “I love flowers, too, and your mother always had them in the house. They say I can go to the dining room, and we can eat lunch in there.” She went to the nurses’ station, got a wheelchair, helped her father into it and wheeled him to the dining room. Tables for two and four were covered with white tablecloths, vases of flowers and attractive place settings. She moved a chair from one of the small tables, settled her father there and sat opposite him.
“Isn’t this nice?” he said. “You know, they want me to have that operation, but why should I at my age? Seems pretty silly to me.”
She stared him in the face, careful not to glare at him, for she knew he would regard that as sass, a thing he didn’t allow. “What about Vanna and me, Daddy? We’ve lost our mother. Are you suggesting that we don’t need our father? Besides, you’re only sixty-four.” He didn’t answer, and she didn’t press the issue. She hoped he would think on her words.
After a very good turkey dinner, she took him to the lounge where they played rummy—a game she’d almost forgotten because she hadn’t played it since she left home to go to college—and his concentration on it was as much of a present as she could have wanted.
She left her father at four o’clock and drove to Manhattan, returned the rental car and went home and dressed for work. She was scheduled to begin her shift at six-thirty. As she approached Allegory’s front door, she remembered that Warren would not be there that night. She was so disappointed at the thought of not seeing him that she sat in her dressing room taking deep breaths to calm her emotions for ten minutes before heading for the bar.
Chapter 3
Warren left the soup kitchen at twenty minutes past one, hailed a taxi and made it to LaGuardia airport at five after two. He breathed a sigh of relief when the plane took off at three o’clock as scheduled. He wasn’t in a habit of disappointing his mother, and certainly not on Thanksgiving Day. He put his key into the lock of her front door at five o’clock and walked into the waiting arms of his nieces and nephew. He hugged them and went to find his mother, a stately woman of considerable accomplishment and of whom he was extremely proud. He walked into the kitchen, opened his arms to her and enjoyed her embrace, the love that he knew he could always count on, for no matter where he was or what he did, he was her son, and she loved him.
“Where’s Dot?” He loved his only sister and hated not seeing her when he went home.
“She went to buy some charcoal. The children want to toast marshmallows after dinner tonight. How long can you stay?”
“I just came for dinner. I need to be back in New York by midnight.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I won’t ask what you’ll do at midnight that you can’t do tomorrow morning, but you know your business.”
“I have an early appointment, and I want to be sure that I make it on time.”
She smiled and patted his shoulder. “That makes sense. Hold the pan while I turn this bird.”
He did as she asked, but his thoughts were elsewhere. What would she think of Jackie? If he didn’t tell her that Jackie was a cocktail waitress, she wouldn’t guess it. I can’t have a woman whose occupation I dislike. Oh hell! I’m not making sense. He sat on the high stool beside the kitchen window and watched his mother make biscuits as he’d done since childhood.
“Have you found a nice girl yet, son?” He expected that question at least once during his visit, because she never failed to ask it. What could he say? He’d found one that he wanted desperately, but he wouldn’t say she would be his life’s choice.
“You always ask me that, Mom,” he said, hoping to put her on the defensive. “I don’t meet many women like you and Dot, but I’m open to being swept off my feet.”
She rubbed the flour off her hands and wiped them on a paper towel. “In other words, you’ve met someone, and you’re keeping her close to your chest.”
He nearly fell off the stool. If she was clairvoyant, she’d never mentioned it to him. “You’re right. I’m in the process of figuring out what to do about her, and when I know, I’ll be glad to tell you. But for now, there’s nothing to tell. Is Rob coming in today?”
“No. Your brother-in-law flew out last night, and he’ll fly to Russia before he comes home. Then he’ll have two days off. People think a pilot leads a glamorous life, but every time I see Rob, he’s just tired.”
Warren looked out of the window, saw his sister building a fire with the charcoal bricks she’d just bought, and got up. “I see Dot’s back and building a fire in the barbecue pit. I’m going out to help her.
He greeted his sister with a hug, helped her build the fire and strolled around the property that he’d given to their parents. As he gazed at the beautiful house, terrace, gardens and swimming pool, he was more proud of that gift to his parents than of anything he’d ever attained. But his father was gone now, and his mother was there alone, except when Dot and Rob brought her grandchildren to see her.
He went back into the house. “Mom, did you ever consider marrying again?”
She seemed startled. “Good Lord, no. Whatever made you think such a thing?”
“It’s not so far-fetched. You need someone to share this with. It isn’t good to be alone so much.”
She pulled a chair from the table and sat near him. “Are you in love with this woman you’ve met?”
There it was, a mother’s uncanny intuition. “I don’t think so, but it could develop into that. I’d rather not talk about her, because I don’t want to influence myself one way or the other.”
She sat there silently looking at him for a few minutes. He was used to that. Finally, she said, “I’ll pray that it works out in the way that’s best for you.”
“Thanks.” He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. “She’s…she’s so sweet. She’s so unbelievably sweet.” When he opened his eyes, a smile glowed on his mother’s face.
“I’m happy for you, son. When you think it’s appropriate, bring her to see me.”
“If I get to that stage, I certainly will.”
He helped his mother and his sister put the dinner on the table, and at six-thirty, they all sat down to a traditional Thanksgiving dinner of the type he’d known all of his life: corn chowder, roast turkey with cornbread dressing, cranberry relish, mustard greens, candied sweet potatoes and apple pie à la mode. His father hadn’t liked pumpkin pie, so his mother never served it.
At the end of the meal, he helped take the dishes to the dishwasher, clean the kitchen and straighten the dining room. “I’ll bet you don’t know another executive who’s willing to scrape dishes and clean up after a meal like this one,” Dot said to him. “As long as you stay this close to earth, brother, you’ll be a happy man, and the woman who gets you will be blessed.”
“Thanks,” he said to his older sibling, “but don’t tell me that. I’m acting the way I was raised. Well, I gotta split if I’m going to make that plane.” He hugged his sister and her children and went to find his mother.
“Thanks for a great dinner, Mom. I’ll call you when I get home.”
She walked with him to the door and wrapped him in her arms. “Get home safely, and don’t forget to pray.”
“I won’t,” he said.
An hour and a half later, he fastened his seat belt, said a word of prayer, leaned back and trusted God and the pilot of the Delta Airlines flight to bring the plane to New York City.
He walked into his apartment at five minutes after eleven, phoned his mother and began checking his calls. Three calls from the manager of his Honolulu hotel. She had fired the head of housekeeping and wanted to know if it was appropriate to hire a man for the job. He dialed her number. “Ms. Frazier, this is Warren Holcomb. As you know, we run an equal-opportunity business. If the man is your best-qualified candidate, and if he has a suitable personality and temperament, hire him.”
“The maids want a woman.”
“I’m sure you know how to tell them that you do your job as you see fit. You have my support. Good luck with it.” He hung up and waited for half past twelve when he could call Jackie.
Jackie kicked off her sandals, stepped out of the mini-skirt and low-cut blouse, jumped into her dress, zipped it up, slipped into her shoes and coat, grabbed her handbag and raced out of Allegory. If he called, she didn’t want to miss it, because he might not call back. She hailed a taxi, got in and breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t encountered Hornsby on her way out. He’d have used any pretense to delay her departure. She’d been home less than ten minutes when the phone rang. She ran to answer it and stood beside it with her left hand holding her chest as she tried to calm herself.
“Hello.”
“Hello. This is Warren.” The air seeped out of her. “Are you there?”
“Uh…yes. Did you go see your folks?”
“I did indeed, and I got home a little after eleven. Do you realize how long an hour can be?”
“What do you mean?”
“I had almost that long to wait until I could call you. You got home quickly.”
She didn’t tell him that she almost broke her neck doing it. “I took a taxi. How was your family?”
“I had dinner at my mother’s home with her, my sister and her three children. I always enjoy being with my family. How is your father?”
“Surprisingly energetic. We ate in the dining room, although I pushed him there in a wheelchair. That was the first time I’d seen him out of that bed in months. If only he would agree to the operation, he’d get well.”
“I’m glad he’s better. How old is he?”
