First Mates (8 page)

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Authors: Cecelia Dowdy

BOOK: First Mates
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He shrugged. “I don't know about that. I don't know all the details about your breakup with him, but I do sense that he's up to no good right now, and you should watch your back.” He continued to run his fingers over her spine. “Or, if it'll make you feel better, I'll watch it for you.”

She swallowed as her temperature rose. She tried to calm her racing heart.
Being around Winston seems to have a big physical effect on me!
She moved away from his eager hand as she toyed with the chips on her plate. “I never told you all the details about the breakup because it was too painful to talk about.”

“I'm your friend. You can talk to me about anything.”

She then told him about her engagement to Jordan and about the thunderous night when he broke their engagement. “I'm still working on releasing my anger toward him. I hated being dumped. It's one of the worse feelings I'd ever experienced. Nobody wants to be told that they're not loved anymore.” She pushed her fingers through her hair and rested her forehead in her palm. “It's even worse when you're being dumped for another woman. I felt cheated and used. I felt so many negative things that night. But my faith in God helped me
through that rough time, and I'm still leaning on Him, hoping to dispense all these negative feelings toward Jordan.”

“Oh, sweetheart. You never told me you two were engaged and he cheated on you. That must have been pretty rough.”

“It was. I never saw it coming. I gave him my whole heart and I trusted him completely.” She watched the smoke curl from the extinguished barbeque flame.

He pulled the napkin she'd unconsciously been shredding from her fingers and massaged her hand. “So, do you still love Jordan? Are you even thinking about taking him back?”

She shook her head. “I can't take him back. I wish him the best, but I don't think I could ever trust him again. It's time for me to move on and forget about him.”

He sighed as he released her hand and fixed himself a plate of food. “Well, this picnic is now an official celebration. Hopefully, in due time, you'll learn to trust
me.

After he set his plate on the table, she pulled him into an embrace, inhaling the scent of his cologne.

“You already have a great deal of my trust. You give me a good feeling, and I'm touched that you sent me the lilies and fixed me this meal.” He pressed his lips to hers and they shared a kiss. Her knees felt like jelly as she pulled her plate toward her. Her stomach growled loudly. “I think my appetite has returned,” she said with a laugh.

“Oh, before you eat, I wanted to ask you something.”

“What?”

He nervously cleared his throat. “Well, I like you, so I think we should start spending some time together regularly and see what happens between us.”

She grinned. “Winston, that's a wonderful idea.”

He said grace before they enjoyed their celebration meal.

Chapter Eight

W
inston whistled as he unlocked the door and entered his house. As he removed his running shoes, grains of sand spilled onto his dark carpet. He threw the shoes in the corner and lay on the couch.

He was still fatigued from his vigorous run on South Beach. The crowds, traffic and artsy buildings did little to take his mind off of Rainy.

It had been two months since he'd arranged the special picnic for her at the park. They'd been out several times, and he found himself growing closer to her as the days rolled by. For the Fourth of July, he'd taken her to the beach to view the fireworks. Just being with her made the bright colors in the midnight sky look more enticing. The thought of touching liquor never crossed his mind when he was with her.

When the oblivion of sleep almost enveloped him into its depths, he forced himself to get into the shower.
Thirty minutes later, he snuggled beneath his clean cotton sheets. He closed his eyes and prayed that the Lord would make their relationship work.

The piercing ring of the phone awakened his deep slumber. His eyes fluttered open, and he gazed at the red digital display of his clock.
It's three a.m.
He grabbed the phone. “Hello?”

“Winston? It's Aunt Gladys.” He clutched the phone tightly as her pain and hysteria carried over the wire.

“Aunt Gladys?” He blinked as his foggy brain cleared. He sat up and threw his feet to the floor, his sheets and blankets cascading to the edge of the bed. “What's wrong?”

“Can you come by?” Masculine yells and screams filled the background.

“Is that Uncle Greg?”

“Yes, please come by—hurry,” she pleaded before hanging up. He rolled out of bed and dressed in a tattered T-shirt and jeans. Fifteen minutes later, he knocked on his aunt's door. The night was warm and humid, and sweat trickled down his face as he watched a lizard race across the steps. The small porch was illuminated with a warm glow as the light came on. His aunt opened the door, wearing her blue bathrobe. Her gray hair was in curlers and she had circles under her eyes.

“Oh, thanks for coming. Greg just found out he's lost his job! Since he's in his fifties, he doesn't know if he'll find another one. He was out half the night and he came home drunk. You were the first person I called.” Tears
streamed from her dark eyes as she clutched his hand and led him into the living room. The house looked like it had been sitting in the middle of a cyclone. Books and papers were strewn everywhere. Broken china figurines littered the floor. “He finally calmed down just before you got here. You know how alcohol affects him.”

He sighed as he followed her into the bedroom. His uncle lay on the bed, his loud snores filling the room.

Gladys pulled him into the kitchen. “I'm making some coffee. I'm so glad you came. You're the only one who understands Greg.”

He sat at the chipped wooden table. Memories of holidays and Sunday dinners flooded his mind as he gazed around the familiar kitchen. “Did you call my dad?”

She sighed. “No, but I thought about it. Out of all his brothers, Greg is closest to your father.” She paused, leaning against the wall. “But you know, I just had a feeling that I should call you. Since you and Greg have been through similar experiences, I figured you'd understand. Besides, now that your parents have moved, your father wouldn't have been able to come by tonight and I knew you would be able to come.”

He gazed at the bright yellow paper decorating the walls and the large bowl of fruit resting on the table. A pound cake sat on the counter in a glass case. She removed a knife from the oak drawer and removed the lid covering the cake. She cut several slices.

He toyed with the rose-decorated china cup. “You know, you're right. I do understand Uncle Greg a lot.
He was there for me when I wanted to get clean and sober. He also introduced me to the world of Alcoholics Anonymous.”

He continued, “You know, I don't think I'd have been able to stick to my sobriety if it hadn't been for his support and my deep faith in God.”

She poured the coffee, adding cream and sugar. She placed the cake on a platter and set it in the middle of the table. She served him a piece of the cake. “I know. My husband is a sweet man. I just wish he were strong enough to resist temptation. What am I going to do?”

Notes from the slow jazz station filled the kitchen with somber music as the old wooden clock steadily ticked the minutes away.

“Maybe he'll feel better tomorrow. There's no guarantee he'll be like this every night.”

She nodded. “I know. I was so disappointed when he came home that way. I was worried when he didn't come home after work. But then he came in drunk and upset. While he was tearing up stuff in the house, he yelled about his layoff from the job.” She paused and sipped her coffee. A commercial about a local restaurant played on the radio. An orange tabby cat trotted into the kitchen and jumped onto her lap, falling almost instantly asleep. “Can you call him and spend some time with him over the next few days? Maybe you can convince him that this is a mistake.”

“When he wakes up and sees the damage he's done to this house, he might be convinced.”

She sighed and rubbed her temple. She caressed the
cat's fur, and scratched his ears. “I hope he can find a decent job. You know how unsteady the economy has been lately.”

“Yeah, I know. I'll check around at the bank. They might have something there. He might also want to look into contacting a headhunter. Sometimes companies might want an older person on board, knowing how much experience they can bring to the company.” They sat in comfortable silence, the gentle purring of the cat mingling with the music on the radio.

“Well, have you been okay? I know Deion gave you that cruise as a birthday gift a few months ago. I've been meaning to call you since I know it was your first birthday alone.” She touched his hand and he smiled for the first time that evening.

“Thanks. I've been okay. I met a wonderful woman on the cruise.”

“Really?” She beamed. “So, tell me, do you think she's the one?”

He sighed. “I don't know. I like her a lot. But there's so much to consider.”

“Such as?” She released his hand, refilled their coffee cups and served him another slice of cake.

“Well, for starters, she's still hurting from a broken relationship. She says she wants to forget her ex-fiancé, but I think he's still on her mind.”

“Well, most women have had relationships before they meet the right man.”

“But this is different.” He told her about Rainy's situation.

“So, her ex-fiancé wants to patch things up with her?”

He nodded. “He came back to town right after we came back from the cruise. He hasn't approached her lately, but he does show up at her church sometimes.”

“Just pray about it, that's all you can do. If it was meant to be, then it'll happen.”

He placed his chin in his hand as he continued to think about Rainy. “That's not the only reason I'm worried.”

“Well, what else could be wrong? You're not involved with anybody else right now, are you?”

He shook his head. “No, it's nothing like that.”

“Well, what is it then?” she prompted.

He sighed as he stared at the sleeping cat. “I'm not getting any younger. If I get married, I want to make sure it's forever, and I'd want to have children.”

“Of course you would. That's the way God made us. You're thirty-five and it's time you settled down and had a family.”

“Well, after seeing Uncle Greg tonight, I don't know if I can do that.”

“What does Greg have to do with your getting married?” She looked puzzled as she placed the sleeping cat on the floor. She then washed their dirty coffee cups and placed them in the dish rack.

“Well, you know how I used to have a drinking problem.”

“Yes?” She wiped her hands on a dish towel and rejoined him at the table.

“Well, what if something bad happens and I started drinking again?” He gazed at the messy living room to
emphasize his point. “I can't expose my wife and children to this kind of behavior. It's scary what alcohol can do to a person.”

“You know me and Greg were never blessed with children, but you listen to me. You're too levelheaded to allow this to happen to your family. I love Greg, but sometimes he can be so…impulsive. You're not like that. I'm sure that your first birthday without Pam has been hard on you, and I'm sure you didn't go out and drink yourself into oblivion.”

“I didn't. But I'm not going to say the thought didn't cross my mind. It's hard to stay away from alcohol when you're hurting.”

“I know, honey, I know.” When she gave him a brief hug, he sniffed her familiar jasmine perfume. “But you're a strong Christian man. Since you gave up alcohol, you renewed your faith in the Lord, and that's all you're going to need to fight any of your ghosts from the past. I wish Greg had stopped and said a prayer when he lost his job, instead of running off to some bar.” She slapped her hand against the table. “Don't let Greg's actions ruin any happiness you might find for yourself.”

Soon, the birds' lilting cadence reminded him it was a new day. Warm fingers of sunlight brightened the kitchen. “I've got to leave to get ready for work.” He kissed her cheek as he left her home.

 

Over the next few days, Winston spent a lot of time with his uncle Greg. He took him out to dinner and they had a long talk. They attended midweek church ser
vice, and they asked the reverend to say a special prayer for Greg's job hunt. His uncle admitted to the depressed feeling he had when he discovered his unemployed status. “I just went to the bar, Winston. I'm sorry. I know it was wrong, but I did it anyway. I was just feeling so bad.”

He was relieved Uncle Greg stayed sober for the next few days. He had a plan to follow—trying to find a job. “Who wants to hire a fifty-year-old man?” Greg grumbled.

“Don't be so discouraged, Uncle Greg. You've barely started looking for a job. Give it some time.” He hoped and prayed his uncle followed his advice.

 

Winston thought about his uncle as he trudged to his car after work a few weeks later, throwing his briefcase in the back seat. The shaded parking garage barely deflected the Florida summer heat. He blasted his air conditioner as he drove to the parking attendant's station. The attendant's Jamaican accent echoed in the wide lot. “Have a nice weekend, Winston. Can't believe you stayed this late on a Friday.”

Grunting a response, Winston took his exit. As he drove home, he listened to the DJ on the radio spouting words of joy about the upcoming weekend. Tourists cluttered the streets, searching for the perfect way to spend their vacation. A dull ache clutched his gut when he drove past Rainy's workplace. He still had not attempted to call or visit her since he'd witnessed his uncle in a drunken stupor.

An hour later, he had changed into his old comfortable clothes and lay on the couch. He turned his TV on and flipped through the channels. Soon, he abandoned the remote and closed his eyes. Dreams of the kisses he'd shared with Rainy cluttered his mind. He tossed on the narrow couch as his heart continued to pound.
Bang!
He fell to the floor, bumping his arm against the coffee table. He clamped his mouth shut as he awakened.

As he rubbed his arm, a soft tapping noise filtered through the living room. He sluggishly stood on his wobbly legs. He glanced at the clock and noticed it was almost 9:00 p.m. It took him a moment to realize the sound was coming from the front door. He shuffled to the entrance. “Deion, I'm tired and not in the mood for visitors.” He yanked the door open.

“Rainy.” He clutched the door handle. She was wearing an enticing tangerine-colored dress, and her hair hung loosely around her shoulders. He longed to sift the tresses through his fingers. He lifted his hand toward her, but lowered it abruptly, quickly stepping away.

He swallowed, trying to relieve his dry throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you expecting your brother?”

“How did you know where I lived?” He wanted to resist temptation while they were dating. So he always picked her up at her place and they frequented public places without coming to his house or hers.

“We exchanged addresses on the cruise, remember?”

Of course he remembered. Her address would be emblazoned in his mind forever. “Come in.” He touched her arm as she entered his home. She gazed around his darkened living room, surveying her surroundings. He looked around his house, wondering how it would look through the eyes of a newcomer.

Newspapers were scattered on his floor. His scarred coffee table was decorated with dried rings of wetness from his drinking glasses. His living room furniture was old, but comfortable. A large color TV dominated the room. An old poinsettia plant was in the corner, dead.

“You have a nice home.”

“You think so?”

She nodded. “It looks so comfortable.” She gazed at his worn couch.

“You're welcome to sit down.”

She sat and crossed her long legs. He touched her arm again and relished the softness of her skin.

“So, is Deion supposed to be coming by?” He gazed into the depths of her liquid brown eyes.

“Um, no, I'm not expecting Deion. I just assumed you were him since he's the only person that drops by uninvited.” He swallowed as sweat trickled down his forehead.

“You look tired. Did I wake you up?” She frowned as she continued to look at him. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing. Why do you ask?”

She shrugged as she toyed with a tassel on his pillow. “You just seem upset.” They were quiet for several seconds.

“Are you hungry?” His voice broke the thick silence engulfing the room. Before she could answer, her stomach growled, loud.

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