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My Darling Daughter,
I have not given up hope that I will one day hold you in my arms again. I hope this letter reaches you and finds you well. Know that I have never stopped trying to find you and will always love you. Please feel free to contact me or visit whenever you like.
Dad
He had included his address and telephone number. Tears misted her eyes. She laid it aside and picked up one that had been written twenty-eight years ago, when she was two. He had been stationed in Germany and included a picture of himself wearing his army uniform. Faith studied his handsome dark features and realized she looked a lot like him. For a while, she read more letters. In each, he always described the place and what was going on. She smiled at his sense of humor. All of the letters ended with him telling her how much he loved her and couldn’t wait to see her. Swiping at her tears, Faith became angry with her mother all over again. Her mother made it seem as though her father had come back as some sort of a monster, yet Faith only saw a man who had been denied the privilege of knowing his daughter. While she acknowledged that she didn’t know a lot about PTSD, by the tone of his letters, it seemed like her father had learned to cope well.
She picked up the picture of him holding her again and felt her emotions rising. Growing up, whenever she’d asked her mother about her father, she’d received the same answer each time—he’d died when she was two and no, there were no pictures. The pain in her heart swelled and she put the letters aside and went back to lie down. She tried listening to music and reading at first, but it didn’t help. Finally, she turned on the television and surfed through the channels, looking for anything that would take her mind off the myriad feelings bombarding her. In the end, she gave up. Her head hurt, the pain in her shoulder increased and she was starving.
Faith ate a handful of almonds, drank more water and snacked on a few grapes, but she needed something of substance. She thought about going out briefly before remembering she didn’t have a car. She didn’t have time for this. Her cell rang, interrupting her mental tirade.
“Hello.”
“Hey, girlfriend. Are you home yet?”
“Hey, Kathi. Yeah, I got home about three hours ago.”
“Glad to hear it. I get in tomorrow at noon and I’m staying until Monday. What’s the name of the hotel where you’re staying? I need to book a room.”
“No need. I have an extra bed.” She gave Kathi her room number and the hotel’s address.
“Even better. That way I can keep an eye on you. Do I need to stop and pick up groceries and stuff before I get there?”
“I have some food here.” Faith opened her mouth to say that she couldn’t cook with one arm, but decided against it. Kathi would change her flight in a heartbeat and be on the next plane out. “But we can go shopping for whatever you need once you arrive. There’s a grocery store a few miles away.”
“Okay. Is there anything you want from your place?” Faith had asked Kathi to check on her house until Faith returned.
“I don’t think so, but if I think of something later tonight, I’ll text you.”
“All right. See you tomorrow and make sure you rest.”
Faith laughed softly. “Yes, Mother.” They talked a minute longer and hung up.
Faith’s stomach growled. Back to the task of finding food. Determined to make it work, she pulled out a small skillet, butter and an egg. How hard could it be to scramble an egg with one hand? Five minutes later, she had her answer. She could stir the egg in the pan, but had difficulty scooping it out. As a result, she ended up burning most of it. Faith stared at the hard, brown bits on her plate and frowned. Sighing heavily, she dumped the inedible mess down the garbage disposal, set the pan in the sink and trudged back to the bedroom.
An hour later, a knock sounded. The clock on the nightstand read eight o’clock. Maybe housekeeping. She sat up gingerly, scooted off the bed and walked out to the front. She looked through the peephole and was surprised to see Brandon standing there. She quickly undid the locks and opened the door. “Brandon, hey. What are you doing here?” He had on a pair of basketball shorts and T-shirt that outlined his muscular chest and washboard abs.
He unleashed that mesmerizing smile and held up a white bag. “Thought you’d might have some trouble cooking.”
Faith sighed in relief. “Bless you. Come in.”
Brandon chuckled. “Sounds like you’re happy to see me.”
“You have no idea. Please tell me that what you have in that bag doesn’t require me to use a spoon and I’ll name my firstborn after you.”
His laughter filled the room. “Brandon is a nice name.” He carried the bag over to the table, took out a disposable container and opened it. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I took a chance on a club sandwich and French fries. Hope that’s okay.”
She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. “More than okay. Thank you.”
He sniffed and surveyed the room. “Were you trying to cook?”
“Yeah. I thought it would be easy to scramble an egg. It was. But by the time I could get it out of the pan with my left hand, it no longer resembled something edible.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You haven’t eaten anything since I left you?”
“I had a slice of cheese, five crackers, a handful of almonds and some grapes.” She shrugged. “It was the best I could do.”
“Then I’m glad I stopped by.”
“Me, too.” They fell silent.
“Well, I only came to drop off the food, so...and I really wanted to see you again.”
His soft confession made her pulse skip. And, truthfully, she had wanted to see him, too. Before she could talk herself out of all the reasons it would be a bad idea to spend more with him, she said, “Then why don’t you stay and keep me company.”
Brandon smiled. “I’d love to.” He seated her and took the adjacent chair.
Faith recited a quick blessing and started in on the sandwich. She was so hungry she devoured the first half in a matter of a few bites. She lifted her head and saw Brandon staring at her with faint amusement. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want some?”
“No, thank you. I’ve already eaten. I’m just glad you’re enjoying my selections.” He leaned forward and braced his arm on the table. “What else do you enjoy?”
She paused with a fry halfway to her mouth. “I like reading, shopping and designing websites.”
“Quite an eclectic mix,” he said with a laugh.
“Hey, what can I say?” She ate another fry. Belatedly, she remembered she hadn’t gotten anything to drink. When she made a move to stand, Brandon jumped to his feet to help her.
“Do you need something?”
“I was just going to get some water or juice.”
“Sit down. I’ll get it.”
Her brow lifted and she lowered herself back down. “Kind of bossy, aren’t you?”
“One of my more stellar traits, I’m afraid.” Brandon retrieved a glass from the cabinet. “Which one, water or juice?”
“I’ll take the juice, please.” Faith continued to eat and thanked him when he placed the glass in front of her. Silence rose between them and he seemed content to just sit and watch her. Any other time, she would have felt uncomfortable with someone staring at her while she ate, but not today. Today, she was too hungry to care. As soon as she finished, he rose from the table, cleaned up and discarded the empty container. Faith had never been around a man like him and couldn’t believe some woman hadn’t snatched him up. At the hospital, he’d said he didn’t have a commitment to anyone. There had to be something wrong with the women in this city. Or maybe it was him. “So, any big plans tonight?”
“Just catching up on some work.”
Faith was instantly contrite. He’d taken off half his workday for her. She got up and walked over to where he still stood in the utility kitchen. “I’m sorry. You took off work for me and now you have to spend your Friday evening working. By the way, what do you do?”
He hesitated briefly. ”I work for a home safety company. And, believe me, whether I’d worked half a day or a full one, my evening would have been spent doing the same thing. Actually, you’ve helped me out by allowing me to hang out with you tonight.”
She leaned against the counter. His abrupt answer made her wonder if he was having problems at his job. “Why are you helping me? Not that I don’t appreciate it, but, I mean, you’ve gone far above the ‘good Samaritan’ role.”
Brandon folded his arms across his wide chest and angled his head thoughtfully. “You’re a beautiful woman, no getting around that. But you have a great personality and a way about you that intrigues me. I like you, Faith. It’s as simple as that.”
“Um...wow. Okay. You’re very direct.”
His voice dipped an octave and his gaze trapped her. “Always.”
The heat swirled around them. To cover her nervousness, she took a step back and cleared her throat. “Well, I don’t want to be responsible for you being up all night, so...”
“Yeah. I’d better go.” Yet neither of them moved. After several charged moments, Brandon moved around her and walked toward the door.
Faith followed. “Good night, Brandon. And thank you again...for everything.”
“You’re welcome.” He turned the knob and paused.
Before she could blink, he bent and covered her mouth in a kiss so sweet it made her eyes close and her heart flip.
“Good night, Faith.” And he was gone.
Faith leaned against the door. She had come to LA for one reason and one reason only, and she would do well to keep that in the forefront of her mind. But thinking of that kiss, she guessed it might be harder than she’d expected.
Chapter 4 (#u57ac6e21-236f-56f1-a9ca-3a6bb78d13da)
Brandon was up at six Saturday morning, sitting in his home office going over reports. Thoughts of Faith had plagued him all night long and made it difficult for him to sleep, so he’d decided to make good use of his time. He came across a report from Khalil. His brother wanted specialized equipment for people with low vision or blindness. He picked up the phone to call.
“What’s up, big brother?” Khalil said when he answered.
“Hey. Just came across your report. You’re looking to add more equipment?”
“Actually, I want to create an area in the gym to put machines that have braille on the plates and install a special type of flooring that feels like a mat, but without the uneven surface.”
“Where do you come up with these ideas?” Khalil already had designated areas set up for individuals with disabilities, from wheelchairs that reclined flat to allow a person to lie under a weight bench, to machines that accommodated amputees comfortably.
Khalil chuckled. “My mind is always working, but I had a client with low vision and she mentioned there not being any gyms that allowed her to work out without a trainer, so I asked her what kinds of equipment she thought would be useful, added my own ideas and voilà. I have some sketches of what I want and can show them to you when you get here. You are still coming?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.” Brandon and his brothers got together once or twice a month to play basketball and work out. The game had expanded to include his two brothers-in-law. Khalil typically played as a substitute or when he had time. “I’ll get there about half an hour earlier, if you’re available.”
“I can do that. I don’t have a client until later this afternoon.”
“I’ll see you then.” Brandon disconnected and finished reading through and making notes on the other reports.
The gym was crowded, as it was usually on a Saturday. He headed directly for Khalil’s upstairs office and knocked on the partially open door.
Khalil looked away from his computer. “Come on in. Let me finish logging in these fitness testing results and we can talk.”
Brandon took the chair across from the desk and nodded.
A few minutes later, Khalil retrieved a manila folder from a locked file cabinet and handed it to Brandon. “These sketches are still pretty rough. I’ll have better ones when I get ready to submit to the design team. I already purchased a handheld braille labeler, but I want the plates to be shaped differently so they’ll be a little more user-friendly with the labels.” He pointed out the details of each.
“You know you could have gone the art route.” Along with being a model and fitness buff, his brother was also a skilled artist.
Khalil shook his head and made a face. “No way. I didn’t want to get stuck having to draw fruit, abstracts I don’t understand and other crap I can’t stand. I’d rather draw or paint what I want.” He favored landscapes and people, but could also draw vehicles and, apparently, gym equipment.
Brandon laughed. “Well, just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll set up a meeting. Is this only for the second gym?”
“No. I’m rearranging some of the equipment here to create a space, as well. With two floors, I have a little flexibility.”
Brandon stood. “Okay. Are you playing today?”
“I don’t know. I have a few things I need to finish, but I may poke my head in the door. Are Malcolm and Omar coming?”
“I got a text from Malcolm yesterday and he said he’d be here. I’m guessing he talked to Omar.”
“Dad say anything else about when you’ll take over?”
“No.”
“What are y’all old men doing up here? We playing ball or what?”
Brandon and Khalil turned to find Malcolm standing in the door. Brandon said, “Who are you calling old?” He noticed Omar, Morgan’s husband, standing off to the side chuckling. “What’s up, Omar?”
“It’s all good,” Omar said, entering the office and doing a fist bump with Brandon and Khalil.
The men filed out of the office and went downstairs to the basketball court. They shot around while waiting for Justin to arrive.
“Do you think the Cobras will take it all again this year?” Khalil asked Malcolm and Omar. The LA Cobras football team had won the championship last season.
Omar sank a jump shot. “I think we have a good chance to repeat.”
“We still have our key offensive and defensive weapons, and my brother over here,” Malcolm said, gesturing to Omar, “is moving to the wide receiver position permanently this year. With Marcus Dupree at receiver on the right, we’ve got the two best in the league. Of course, with me at running back, what do you expect?”
Brandon shook his head. “No shame in your game, I see.”
Malcolm shrugged. “I learned from my big brothers.”
“What’s up, good people?” Justin strolled over to where the other men were and they went through another round of greetings. “Are we playing Horse today, since there are five of us?”
“That’ll work,” Brandon said. “Although, if you miss as many shots as last time, you’ll be spelling horse and out of the game before we go around two times.” They all laughed.
“Ha-ha, funny. Just toss me the damn ball.”
“I think I’m gonna help my brother-in-law out today,” Khalil said. “I have to get back to the office, so you can play a little two-on-two. Go easy on him,” he added, causing the men to laugh harder. “It’s that married thing.” He shuddered.
Omar lifted a brow. “You have something against being married?”
“Hell, yeah. Too many beautiful ladies, so little time. I’ll check y’all later,” he called over his shoulder as he left.
Malcolm chuckled. “He does have a point. I say you married men team up and let us single brothers show you a little somethin’ somethin’.”
Brandon folded his arms. “Unless you’re scared.”
Justin and Omar shared a look, and Justin said, “Let’s go.”
