Berry Picking (6 page)

“You'll figure it out.”

No, she wouldn't. She knew that no words, no gifts, no apologizes could heal the rift that had come between them. She wanted him to be happy. Isn't that what someone who loved did? They let that person go? If she wanted to prove how unselfish she was then that's what she would do. Or, she could become better. And she knew the person who could help her, although it would be a painful lesson.

***

Paula stood on the porch of Conrad's grandmother's house for five minutes debating whether she should knock or leave. She hadn't called and wasn't expected, so she could just turn around and go. But that would be the coward's way and she wasn't going to be that...not anymore at least. She took a deep breath then knocked.

His grandmother opened the door. “I wondered when you'd make up your mind. What do you want?”

“I need to talk to you,” Paula said.

“About what?” His grandmother said with a sniff. “I knew you'd break his heart.”

“I want to heal it.”

“I can't help you.” She started to close the door.

Paula stopped her. “I deserve your anger and anything you want to throw at me, but I'm not leaving until I get to talk to you.”

“Suit yourself.” She shoved Paula back then slammed the door.

Paula glared at the door. The woman was stubborn but so was she. She sat on the porch and waited. His grandmother came out two hours later, startled to see Paula still there. She said nothing, turned, got in her car and drove away. Another two hours passed and she returned. She walked past Paula and went into her house. As the sun set, Paula considered sleeping in her car but didn't move. She was hungry but didn't care. She woke up later with a blanket covering her and the smell of coffee. She stretched her arms then blinked at the man sitting in front of her.

“Conrad?”

“My grandmother called me to get some intruder off of her property.”

“I guess that would be me.”

He stood avoiding her glance. “I put coffee in a thermos for your trip back.”

“I gave it back.”

He looked at her. “What?”

“The award. I gave it back. I didn't deserve it.”

“Yes, you did. You worked hard for it.”

“But life isn't just about actions and what people can see. It's about what's on the inside. The award should go to someone who's good both inside and out.” She leaned forward and took a sip of the warm cup of coffee he held out to her, swallowed then fell on her knees in front of him in complete humility. “Please forgive me.”

“Paula get up.”

“Not until you forgive me.”

Conrad pulled her to her feet. “Don't do that.” Although he’d never grown up or visited his grandfather’s homeland in Ghana, he knew the seriousness of such a gesture.

“I am showing you utmost respect.”

He shook her. “Stop it.”

“I want to be with you.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I want you back. What do I have to do?”

“Give me time. I'll call you.”

***

He didn't call. He didn't email. He didn't text. She knew it was over. Twice she thought of going by his place but both times she stopped herself. He asked for time and she'd give him all that he needed. She owed him that much. However, when a month passed she prayed to never see him again. She didn't want to see him happy with someone else. Someone who would know how to treat him and remind her of the man she'd lost.

“I can't believe it didn't work out between you two,” Tamara said as they shopped for her daughter's birthday. “I thought you'd be perfect.”

“You were the only one who thought we'd look good together.”

“I didn't say you'd
look
good, I said you'd
be
good.” She snapped her fingers. “Oh that's right I need to get him a “get well” card.”

“Why?” Paula asked anxious. “Is he sick? Will he be okay?”

Tamara opened her mouth then closed it and looked at her friend with a smug grin. “I thought you were over him.”

“I am.”

Tamara just continued grinning.

“What?”

“If you're so interested, why don't you go ask him?”

***

For three days Paula debated whether she should go see him or not. Even as she stood at his front door she questioned her decision. But when he opened the door it was too late to turn away. She stared at him. He had his arm in a sling and his leg in a cast. “What happened?”

He shook his head. “You'll only get mad at me?”

“Why would I get mad?”

He bit his lip then sighed. “Because you warned me.”

Paula looked at him confused then finally understood. “You ran in flip flops didn't you?”

He nodded. “Tripped down the stairs and sprained my wrist and broke my leg.”

“Why are you so clumsy?”

“That's right I'm a big, clumsy baboon. Fortunately, you don't have to worry about that anymore.” He closed the door.

Paula stared at it paralyzed. He'd slammed the door in her face. He didn't want to see her. He had every right. She shouldn't have scolded him. She leaned against the door frame then slid to the ground. She shouldn't have come. He'd rejected her twice. She closed her eyes and hung her head then heard purring. She felt a soft fur brush against her skin. She looked up and saw Wispy. She was no longer a kitten, but was still adorable. She stroked her. “You snuck out, you naughty girl.” Paula stood. She'd have to let him know. She rang the bell. He opened it faster than she'd expected as if he'd been waiting by the door.

“What?”

“Wispy got out.”

“Oh.”

“Who's helping you?”

“I'm managing.”

She pushed past him. “Sit down. I brought you some food.”

“Paula--.”

“I'll leave after you've eaten and you'll never see me again,” she said. His place was a mess, which wasn't like him. He had dishes in the sink, clothes on the floor, paper scattered, dust on the plants and shelves. “When was the last time your housekeeper cleaned up?”

“I gave her time off.”

“Fine.” She'd clean up instead. She prepared his meal, but he refused to let her feed him, so she got to work cleaning up. She tidied the kitchen, washed the dishes, mopped the floor and then vacuumed and dusted his living room and bedroom. She washed his clothes and ironed them then put them away. It was when she was hanging up his shirts that she saw his gray tweed jacket. The one she'd refused to wear when he'd offered it to her. It still had a smudge on the hem. She slipped it on then looked at herself in the full length mirror. She looked ridiculous. It was obviously too large and the color clashed with her complexion, but she didn't care.

At first the realization shocked her. She could hear her mother's voice, feel the sharp sting of the spoon hitting her skin for not being good enough. She remembered the stinging tears of pain of having to pack because the third wife had won. She'd gotten rid of them and her father hadn't fought for them to stay. She remembered on the flight to Canada promising herself that she'd one day be just as powerful as the third wife. She'd be cunning and bold. She'd be beautiful and demand respect. But in her quest to be like the third wife she'd lost herself. She'd lost some of her compassion. She'd become a thin veneer of a woman she'd always hated. No more.

She didn't care what anyone thought. She realized as she looked at herself that Conrad had never been the problem. She'd been afraid of what people would think about her, but not anymore. For the first time in her life other's opinions didn't matter. She didn't care. She smiled at her reflection and hugged herself. All that mattered was that the coat belonged to the man she loved.

She returned to the kitchen humming.

“That jacket's too big for you,” Conrad said behind her.

“I know. I like it.” She turned to him, her heart pounding. “Actually I love it.” She kissed him and this time his kiss wasn't like hot cinnamon chocolate but sweetened blackberries--mouth watering juicy and delicious. And when she drew away the guarded look that had been in his gaze before was gone. In its place was a sense of trust that made her heart soar. There was no chasm between them. He knew he could trust her with his heart. He could trust that she'd always be there for him not matter what anyone thought. That she was proud to be with him and nothing would change that.

Conrad suddenly swore.

“What?”

“I can't even hold you.”

She wrapped her arms around him. “That's okay. There's plenty of time for that.” She rested her head against his chest and sighed.”Your grandmother's not going to like this.”

Conrad kissed the top of her head. “She'll get used to the idea.”

“I hope so. I have to thank her.”

“For what?”

Paula only smiled and hugged Conrad tighter. He was a keeper and she'd never let him go.

The End

If you enjoyed
Berry Picking
don't miss Dara's other stories...

A Gift for Philomena

A Home for Adam

Miss Lana Wilson

A Thousand Words

Lola's Decision

Or collections...

Five Holiday Tales

The Lady Next Door and Other Stories

Or novels...

Illusive Flame

Honest Betrayal

The Sapphire Pendant
(Book 1 in the Clifton Sisters Series)

Table for Two
(Book 1 in the Henson Series)

Gaining Interest
(Book 2 in the Henson Series)

Careless Rapture
(Book 3 in the Henson Series)

Familiar Stranger
(an extra Henson Series book)

The Daughters of Winston Barnett

The Henson Brothers
(Includes the novels
Table for Two
and
Gaining Interest
)

Out of the Past
(Includes the novels
Careless Rapture
and
Familiar Stranger
)

Discover these books and more at
www.iloripressbooks.com

National bestselling author Dara Girard, began her writing career at the age of six with a ball point pen and her mother's diary. Fortunately, her mother loved the story so much her daughter escaped punishment. Writing on the walls, however, got her grounded. Dara loves to travel, eat French pastries and hear from readers.

Visit
www.daragirard.com
to contact the author and find out more about her current and upcoming books.