Approaching Menace (15 page)

“After he does get better, I imagine finding a donor might be difficult.”

The doorbell chimed. Josie nodded to Eve and angrily stitched. “My blood isn’t a match for Colin. Neither are our mom’s tissues. I don’t know what it is. Why don’t more people give up their organs? What good are they after you’re dead?” Josie shocked herself by her sudden raised voice.

A man with bushy white hair glanced into their area. “I need a tux,” he said, and Eve went to the showroom with him, quietly apologizing for Josie’s outburst.

Josie wished the world could hear her fury at the injustice. She stood, needing to move. Her thoughts seemed so loud she expected Eve to reappear and scold her. Instead she saw her other boss.

“Mr. Allen,” Josie said. Leaning her head slightly, she could see into Otis Babineaux’s office. He lifted a pen and tapped its point against paper while staring out at her.

Allen turned his head to follow Josie’s stare.

Babineaux looked away and began writing.

“You look tense,” Allen said. “Is it the job?”

“Not really.” She willed her body to relax, but her gaze slid to Babineaux’s doorway. He now appeared engulfed in what he wrote.

“You seemed especially concerned about that bad weather the other night,” Allen said, stepping back to allow her to come away from the sewing table. She stopped near the carpet-draped stand. Recalling how lovely Bitsy appeared with her headpiece and train, Josie looked forward to seeing many other brides up there. She noticed herself and Mr. Allen repeated in the mirrors, reminding her of carnivals from her youth. He was waiting, she realized, for some explanation.

“Oh,” she said, “after that weather.”

“Yes. We got caught in the storm, but even after it passed, you still looked concerned. Colin didn’t have a major problem then, did he?”

With their reflections in the glass, many people appeared to stand around wanting to hear. She didn’t want to return to that day during her childhood but had learned holding everything in wasn’t good for her. The memories reappeared each time horrid weather approached, and she found that after each of the few times she’d spoken of that dreadful day, a patch of space needing to heal inside her felt better. And he was Annie’s dad and her neighbor.

Josie needed catharsis. She needed to stop being that young girl with long curls tied up in pigtails. She’d worn her favorite outfit that day, sandals and the navy shorts and blouse with a gold-trimmed sailor collar. “When I was small, I had a horrible experience.”

His face softened, revealing compassion, making her story somewhat easier.

“I was at a classmate’s birthday party.” Josie’s gaze slid to corner mirrors and she envisioned herself and the other girls jumping and tumbling while they laughed on the black trampoline. They were all barefooted. Josie bounced extra high.

“None of us paid attention to the sky getting darker. We were so busy having fun.”

“Yes,” he said, nodding.

“There was one rumble and then a boom. Just one.” Her mind saw a wide splash of bright yellow. Never before had she realized she’d seen the lightning. “Somebody screamed. Everyone ran, yelling….”

Allen’s face replaced her vision. Josie rubbed her eyes to press back the moisture. “A girl stretched on the grass. She had been killed.”

Mr. Allen’s hands clasped hers. “What a horrible experience. I’m so sorry.” His lips pressed tight and he shook his head. Then he left Josie alone.

And I needed someone to hold me.

The other girls had all scrambled, it seemed, into their parents’ waiting arms. But Josie remained alone, trembling on that trampoline.

I needed the comfort of parents promising it would never happen to me.

She realized the female duplicated in those mirrors still felt that need. Assurance. Real parents.

She blinked away her vision. Why had she reacted that way? Here she was, starting a job, and she’d already told two people here much more than she’d wanted.

Maybe it was from the stress of her car acting up when she tried to leave early this morning. She’d gotten up early and dressed extra special, hoping for a great start. Her curls refused to be tamed. She worked a curling iron to help clamp them down, but frizz formed instead. Colin had a coughing spell.

Josie turned away from the mirrors.

She strode to the showroom and found Randall Allen speaking to Eve. When Josie entered, he stopped.

“We may have thunderstorms later this afternoon,” he told Josie and she felt like a foolish child. “You mentioned your car was acting up. I’m not a mechanic, but in case you need a ride home, I can drive you.”

“Thanks. My boyfriend’s coming.”

“Good.”

The door chimed as two customers entered. Allen went to the male, while Eve greeted the woman and guided her to the section of suits and dresses especially for mothers-of-the-bride.

Their activity reminded Josie of what she needed to be doing. Going back toward her cubbyhole, she felt a new trickle of apprehension. Stopping, she glanced sideways.

Her other boss held his pen against paper. But he was not looking at his page. Otis Babineaux was staring through his doorway, unapologetically eyeing Josie.

Chapter 10

“We must look ridiculous!” Josie yelled to Andrew’s helmet.

He glanced back and grinned.

Andrew had arrived minutes before closing time, met the people she worked with, and tried to get her car started. Even with his prowess with engines, he’d been unable to get hers cranking. “I’ll come back later,” he said, “after I change into old clothes. I might have to take her apart.”

Coming from work, he still wore his tie and the slacks of his suit. He sped Josie off through traffic, and she smiled at herself in her dress, stockings, and pumps. At least, she considered, thinking of Sylvie, her dark blue helmet matched what she wore.

Exhaust fumes struck her from an eighteen-wheeler they followed, but Andrew swerved into another lane behind a red Jaguar. Without looking back, he dropped a hand backward to hold Josie’s thigh.

A mischievous mood caught her, especially since the wind made her feel so carefree. She leaned forward and pressed her body against him. Andrew’s head swayed. She heard him say something about maybe not cooking dinner.

They were laughing when they entered his apartment, a point not missed by Andrew’s German roommate.

“Two happy people I see,” Johan said, grinning when they sauntered inside.

Josie squeezed his hand. “We’re celebrating my new job. Tonight Andrew’s going to cook for me.”

“Andrew’s cooking? Then you had better take some of these.” Johan pulled heartburn tablets from a cabinet.

Josie laughed. Her frame of mind had lightened since reliving that childhood scene, but still she felt a special need for laughter.

The décor in their apartment made her comfortable. “But you,” she told Johan, “are almost as good a cook as you are a decorator.” The mirrors he had lined the walls with sparkled. Josie was again amazed at how they enlarged the small spaces, a trick he learned in his country since most of their homes weren’t as large as houses in the States.

Since he often added more touches that made their apartment interesting, Josie glanced about, looking for anything new. A wide-open appearance came to the rooms he’d made cozy with cushioned benches in muted blue and gold tones built into the walls offering lots of seating space. Josie’s gaze followed the ivy trellises Johan had painted outside the doors and three steps leading down to their bedrooms. She knew that beyond, more mirrors enlarged the rooms they each slept in.

New pottery had been added to the earthen containers Johan had designed and now sprinkled throughout the apartment. Josie spotted an open atlas on the kitchen counter.

Andrew took out an earthenware grill. “My specialty tonight,” he said, bowing with a flourish. “Counter-top barbecue.” He plugged in the grill and set the temperature.

Johan held out a bowl. “You would do better eating my food, Josie.” The pink ground meat in his dish blended with a smattering of green seasonings.

“Raw meat?” Josie withdrew. “I’m sure I’m allergic.”

Johan gave the rich smile that made his slender face appear twice as wide as normal. He shoved the offering toward Andrew.

“You know the meat that goes in my mouth is at least heated.” Andrew took Johan’s bowl and shoved it into the refrigerator.

“Such a waste of good nutrients,” Johan said, shrugging and looking at Josie. “Do you have a good boss?”

“Yes, but I’m not so sure about his partner.” Her gaze fell again to the atlas.

Johan noted her interest. “I was tracking the new tropical storm.”

“Where is it going?”

“Her path has been erratic.” He gave Josie a smirk. “Just like a woman.”

She responded with a tight grin. Something tickled her nostrils and made her sneeze. Andrew was sprinkling red pepper on steaks.

“You don’t do too well with this, do you?” he asked.

“Only after it’s cooked.” She watched him dab on salt and garlic powder.

“The depression has kept moving,” Johan said, not paying attention to their exchange. “Lately the tropics have gotten more active.”

Withholding a shudder, Josie looked closer at the map. Johan had drawn black lines to follow recent storms. Some of his lines crisscrossed, forming a mosaic through the Atlantic Ocean and the Caribbean Sea. On a sheet near the book, Johan had printed dates and coordinates. The last one showed the irregular path of Tropical Storm Charmaine. Fort Walters and Windswept had been circled in red ink.

“She’s changing her mind, keeps on changing her mind,” he said.

“That’s okay as long as she doesn’t intensify. Or decide to come here.” Josie left the book and went to Andrew.

“But she’s grown,” Johan said, regaining Josie’s attention. “Look.”

She reached Johan’s side. He pointed below Cuba. “Charmaine entered here. Then she backtracked all the way to the Atlantic. And now, after standing still and getting stronger for almost two days, this lady has decided to take a slow drift toward the Gulf of Mexico.”

“They like to move slowly,” Andrew said, “and creep up on you.” His fingers crept over Josie’s cheek. He brushed her hair back and kissed her neck.

She grinned but glanced again at Johan’s lines. “But it’s not coming here, is it?”

“She’s taking a westerly turn, probably headed to Texas.” A popping noise came from the counter. “Ah, the steaks sizzle,” Johan said. “Why would anyone want to ruin a fine cut of meat with all that cooking?”

Andrew smirked, turning the steaks. “Why don’t you sit at the table?” he asked Josie and shut the atlas. “We aren’t worrying about storms tonight. I brought you here to serve you.”

“How nice.” She took the chair he pulled out at the table.

He grinned. “And you are to show your undying gratitude.” His gaze slid toward Johan. “Of course not in front of my roommate.”

“I guess I have plans.” Johan grabbed his car keys. He headed for the door.

“Sure you don’t want to join us?” Andrew asked while shoving him out and locking the door.

“If you really want me to stay,” Johan called from the other side.

Returning to Josie, Andrew pressed against her as she leaned back against the snack bar. “And you will show some appreciation?”

She smiled. “For?”

“Taxi service. For my meal. And my love,” he whispered.

His lips touched hers. Andrew’s mouth backed away and returned to press harder. Instead of feeling like a responsible parent, Josie needed to feel loved this evening, and he was filling that need.

He kissed her forehead and her closing eyelids. His lips found her neck while his hands slid to her breasts, sending away final thoughts of her family.

Andrew reached over and yanked the grill’s plug from the wall.

* * *

Anxiety had washed away from Josie like shells sucked from the sand by gulf waves. She remained on Andrew’s pillow after they made love, while he returned to the kitchen to heat their food.

“Stay there,” he told her. “You make my old sheets look wonderful.”

She could have remained. Josie could have curled in that space after dinner and slept with no problem, but she would never do that.

“You don’t have to leave,” Johan had told her the first time she’d come to their apartment. “Please stay overnight with my friend. There is nothing I would rather see in our kitchen when I wake up than a sleepy-eyed, gorgeous woman.”

She thanked him then, saying she appreciated his acceptance of her romance with Andrew. But she had a younger brother. Remaining overnight would not show a good example.

“I admire you for that,” Johan told her. “To most sisters, it would not make a difference.”

Now she was finishing getting dressed when Andrew called to announce the food was ready. He’d fixed yams in the microwave and had salad in bowls.

They laughed while they ate. The reheated steaks were tough. He had changed into old clothes with oil stains. “I’ll come with you,” she told him. “I can hold a flashlight.”

He held a hand up. “It might take awhile. And if I have you out in that darkness, I might be tempted again and forget all about your car.” He grinned. “You wait for me here. With the
Papa.
”

The way he said it made her smile. Andrew left the table and returned with a DVD. “I’ll be back before the old man marries off his daughter.”

She hadn’t seen
Fiddler on the Roof
in years but found the story delightful. The father’s gutsy songs always made her happy. She curled up on the couch, and soon her voice was cheerfully booming along with the papa’s. She’d become so engrossed with the song she barely heard the phone ring.

“Josie, what you doin’?” Some concern was in Colin’s tone.

“Singing.” She burst into song.

As she expected, he groaned.

She sniggered. “So what are you doing that’s better than singing?”

He hesitated. “Not much.”

“Did you need Andrew?”

“No, I’m okay.”

His tone was too strained. She heard it so often when he tried to brush over his illness. “What’s going on? What are you and our mother doing?”