Lessons From a Younger Lover (11 page)

“Of course,” she replied. “Here.” She walked over to a table filled with gift bags and picked one up bearing his name. “This is for you.”

“I made it, Daddy,” Isis said softly.

Gwen noticed Isis's usual exuberance was gone. Maybe the child really wasn't feeling well.

“It's beautiful, baby.” He turned to Gwen. “Isis is very happy to be in your class. She talks about you all the time. Thanks for everything you're doing.”

“Oh, no worries, it's my job. Isis is doing great. We'll chat about it another time.” She patted Isis on top of her head. “Feel better, Isis.”

Both Carol and Gwen watched father and daughter walk through the doorway. “I'll have to chat with you later as well,” Carol said pointedly. “Ransom needs help with Isis, and that's
my
job.”

Gwen almost had to sit on her hands to keep from calling Ransom. But she wouldn't. She wouldn't! She eyed the clock, and then her purse, tempted for the umpteenth time to drive to Kristy's. But she wouldn't do that either, because she wanted
him
to be there. Reaching for the floral pillow beside her, she grabbed it and flung it across the room. Two more pillows quickly followed. She knew she was being childish but she didn't care. She felt about to explode, and there was no one around to help calm her down.

Chantay was the first one she'd tried. She was surprised when Sharonna answered, especially since it was a Friday night. But she had, and promptly informed Gwen that Chantay was out…on a date.
Of all the nights,
Gwen had inwardly wailed. Her fingers had itched to call Chantay's cell phone, but Gwen figured her friend had finally finagled a yes out of the coworker she'd been chasing. And Gwen knew Chantay. Friends came first until a man bumped them to second. Especially on a first date.

After the back to school bash ended, she'd tried to stay busy, keep her mind off Carol and images of her and Ransom spending the evening together. She'd left the school, gone through a drive-through for a chicken sandwich, and hit the highway. Not for one minute did she mind rush hour traffic. The longer it took her to do whatever she was doing to busy herself, the better. She'd spent a couple hours with her mother, literally tucking her into bed. Resisting the impulse to curl up on the couch and spend the night because it felt too much like hiding from her heartache, she'd stopped by another drive-through, ordered a large chocolate shake, and let the syrupy sweet ice cream and
The Very Best of TLC
accompany her home. On the way, she'd stopped at a Walmart, roamed the aisles, bought stuff she didn't need and would probably return, and seriously eyed a theater before deciding that going in and watching a movie alone would not make her feel better.

And the worst part of the evening was the fact that her phone hadn't rung one time. She'd wanted it to, willed it to, with Ransom on the other line. She'd even checked it to see if maybe the battery had died. Unfortunately, all three bars were clearly visible—fully charged.

“This is crazy!” Gwen declared to the empty room. She got up, walked into the dining room, and snatched said phone off the dining room table. She punched speed dial. While waiting for an answer, she walked into the kitchen and placed a large bag of chips and a large container of French onion dip on the table. She was about to hang up when the familiar voice sounded on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hey, brother.”

“Gwen?”

“How many sisters do you have?”

“One too many, it sounds like.” When the smart retort Robert expected wasn't flung back at him, he got serious. “Are you all right? Is it Mama?”

“No, Mama's all right. I mean, everything's fine.”

“Are you sure? You sound upset.”

Why did I think calling my brother was a good idea?
“It's nothing, just work stuff.”

“Adam messing with you? You know I'll come home and kick his butt if he's getting out of line.”

Gwen smiled. “I know, brother…forever my protector.”

“You got that right. I'll always be your big little brother.” Robert muffled the phone and conversed with someone else.

“Is that Denise? I didn't even think…am I interrupting?”

“Oh, we had an informal dinner party, and some folks just don't know when to leave!”

Gwen knew from the laughter she heard in the background that Robert's loud comment was a jest meant for the friends he was entertaining. It was time for her to get off the phone.

“I'll holler later, brother.”

“All right, sis. But you're cool, right? Everything's okay?”

“Yes, everything's fine.”

Gwen hung up the phone wishing what she said was true. Everything wasn't fine. Everything was far from fine. But in that moment, Gwen decided things could be better, and that she would do what she could to help turn the misery-making events in her life around. Once again, she reached for the phone.

 

Ransom smoothed Isis's hair away from her face. His little cherub was finally asleep. It was touch and go for a while. Isis's temperature had spiked earlier in the evening and they'd almost ended up in the emergency room. But after he'd talked to his father and made tea the older man had suggested, Isis's stomach seemed to calm down. He'd fed her vegetable soup, loaded with herbs his father had also suggested, and was glad she was sleeping comfortably. His world now revolved around this angel at whose bedside he sat. Watching her sleep, he was hard pressed to remember a time in his life when that was not the case.

Ransom's phone rang, shaking him from his musings. He thought of Gwen at once and smiled, reaching for the phone.
She's calling to apologize.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you.”

Carol. Dangit! I should have looked at the ID.
“Oh, hey, Carol.”

“Who were you expecting…Gwen?”

Ransom's call-waiting tone beeped in his ear. This time he looked at the number. “I need to take this call, Carol.” He switched over without waiting for a reply.

“Hello?”

Gwen only hesitated for a moment before responding. “Ransom, it's Gwen. I hope it isn't too late to call but I was…concerned about Isis. Is she okay?”

Ransom tried not to let his ego deflate too badly over the fact that Gwen was calling to check on his daughter's welfare and not his own. “She's got a slight fever, but a good night's sleep and a dose of my special healing potion and…she'll be all right.”

“Your healing potion?”

Ransom frowned at the smile in Gwen's voice. Did she think she could get back in his good graces so quickly? Of course he'd let her back in. He knew that, but he couldn't let her know it, not without a little squirming on her part. His voice, while not harsh, was matter-of-fact as he answered.

“My father's Iroquois Indian, and he passes on some of their medicine knowledge to me. I made a healing tonic for her, that's all.”

“Oh.” His somber tone wasn't lost on Gwen. She squirmed. “Well, uh, I won't keep you then. I was concerned, and just wanted to check on your daughter. She's one of my best students.”

“Is that the only reason you called?”

Gwen stifled a sigh. “No, I also called to apologize for my awful behavior the other day, my stereotypical presumptions and accusations. Actually, I wanted to do this in person but—”

“Then why don't you?”

“That's what I was trying to do today, when we were interrupted. When your daughter came into the classroom saying she wasn't feeling well.”

“What's wrong with now?”

“Now?” Gwen looked at her watch. “Oh, Ransom, I couldn't possibly impose on you at this hour. It's almost nine o'clock.”

“What, your car doesn't start after the sun goes down? You're on a teacher's curfew?”

“No, it's just that…I don't know how appropriate it would be for me to be visiting a parent this late at night.”

Chagrin tinged Ransom's voice. “Well, never mind then, Gwen. I accept your apology. Have a good night.”

“Wait, Ransom, don't hang up. What's your address?”

“Why?”

“I'm coming over.”

Gwen pulled up in front of the home Ransom had described. She hesitated only a moment before opening her door and exiting the car. A motion light came on as she walked up the circular pathway to the front door. Its brightness revealed tan-colored bricks beneath a deep-red, Spanish styled roof. Two lion statues guarded each side of the door. A bright pink tricycle sat partially hidden behind a large bird-of-paradise bush, and a garden hose lay coiled just beside the tricycle. Gwen reached a tentative finger up to the doorbell and rang it.

Her heart skipped a beat when Ransom opened the door. He stood tall and proud, backlit by the hall light behind him, wearing jeans and a tank top. His coal black hair was unbound, falling over his shoulders, while wisps of it framed his face. A few seconds elapsed as they looked at each other. Ransom broke the tension with a smile.

“Well, are you going to deliver the apology from my doorstep?”

Gwen smiled too. “No, I guess not.”

Ransom stepped back, opening the door farther. “Come on in.”

Gwen walked through the doorway and followed Ransom down the hall and into the large rectangular living room. She was immediately taken in with the simple yet sophisticated style of the place, a haphazard elegance unsuspected in a man Ransom's age. The chocolate brown leather sofa and love seat were softened by silk throw pillows and a multicolored woven rug that took up half the room. On it sat a square wooden coffee table with architectural magazines vying for space with coloring books and black Barbie dolls. The other side of the room housed an entertainment center crammed with modern techie toys surrounding a large flat-screen TV. A pair of red bongos sat in a corner; a chair that appeared to be carved from a tree trunk rested on the other wall. The bare walls and lack of trivial whatnots revealed the lack of a woman's touch, but for a twenty-six-year-old man with a six-year-old…the house felt comfortable, settled, mature. The sound of straight ahead jazz, Freddie Hubbard or Maynard Ferguson she guessed, oozed from the hidden surround-sound speakers—the music choice yet another surprise.

“Your place is nice,” Gwen said, after she'd finished her quick perusal of the room.

“Not the blunts and blasting hip-hop you expected?”

Gwen chose the caustically delivered comment as her moment to dive right in. “I'm sorry for the things I said to you, Ransom. I was totally out of line and obviously way off base. I've been going through a lot these past few months…. That day you came to my classroom, well, the stress got the better of me. I'm not making excuses for what I did or the things I said. I'm just saying it's out of character for me to behave that way and I hope you will accept my apology.”

Once again Ransom's face was a mask. He crossed his arms and continued to eye Gwen with a ferocity that made her uncomfortable.

“I hope we can salvage a civil relationship out of this,” she continued into the silence. “For Isis's sake if no other reason. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that your daughter is a very bright child, a leader. Her future is filled with promise. I'm not supposed to have favorites but it's hard not to be drawn to her special personality. It tells me you…and her mother…have been doing something right.”

A frown flittered across Ransom's face and then quickly disappeared. “Her mother has little to do with it. Can I get you a drink?”

“Uh, no, thanks. I can't stay long.”

“Why not? It's Friday night. What's got you so anxious to leave, besides your attraction to me?”

His closeness to the truth made Gwen angry. “Look, I've done what I came here to do.”

“Yeah, you've apologized. But I haven't accepted it yet. I can understand your need to run away from me. You're scared of your feelings, and of me, and what might happen if you stay.”

“Oh, please. You flatter yourself. I'm not afraid of you.”

“Good. In that case, have a seat. I'll be right back.”

Before Gwen could respond, she was watching a pair of strong, graceful legs beneath a broad muscled back walk away from her, through the dining room and into the kitchen. Her mind worked to discount his accurate assessment of her fear even as her hand itched to run its fingers through the satiny hair that swayed back and forth as he turned the corner.

I'm the older adult here!
Gwen reminded herself.
I can handle this. After all, he's the parent of one of my students, nothing more
. Gwen's argument felt convincing until he walked back into the room, with two cups. Then, her tingling nana suggested otherwise.

Ransom stopped in front of her and offered a cup with steam rising from its brim.

“What's this?”

“Something to relax you,” Ransom said, taking a seat near the opposite end of the couch.

Gwen lifted the cup off the saucer and to her nose. “It smells good.” She prepared to take a sip. “There aren't any drugs or anything in here, are there?” Immediately, she regretted the comment. “I'm sorry. What I meant was…” Gwen took a tentative sip. The concoction was at once spicy and sweet.

“Always thinking the worst,” Ransom countered smoothly. He took a sip of the cinnamon-flavored brew he'd made. “No drugs, no alcohol. Just a tea designed to calm and soothe.” Ransom continued to sip the drink, his deep black eyes piercing and unyielding. “Where is your soon-to-be ex-husband, and what did he do to hurt you so?”

The question caught Gwen off guard. She'd almost forgotten that Miss Mary had seen fit to share her business with him the night her mother fainted.

“He's in Chicago.” Gwen didn't know how much of her personal life she wanted to reveal. She deflected his investigative probing with a question of her own.

“Where's Isis's mother?”

“New York.”

A lone trumpet filled the ensuing silence as the players of conversational chess plotted the next move. Gwen knew she should say something and wasn't quite sure why this man so unnerved her. True, she didn't have a wealth of experience with the opposite sex, especially ones who looked and acted as Ransom did, but she was no longer a cringing wallflower.

“She's a model,” Ransom finally continued into the silence. “Left three years ago to pursue a career after deciding that motherhood was not for her.”

“So you take care of Isis alone…a single father?”

Ransom laughed, the first sign of camaraderie he'd shown all night. “Dang, woman, don't sound so shocked. I have help. A housekeeper comes in a couple days a week. Sometimes she helps me with Isis. Carol does too. Her daughter, Kari, and Isis are best friends.”

Gwen curbed the urge to ask about his and Carol's friendship. Sticking to the absent mother subject felt safer. “Does Isis's mother see her often?”

“Not lately. Brea got an agent and has been doing a lot of work in Europe. Her mother, a sister, and two brothers live in LA, but we haven't seen any of them in the past two years.”

“It must be hard juggling work and family. You own a construction company, right?”

Ransom nodded. “Blake Construction. It's small, but we've gotten lucky on a couple choice bids—the Sienna Elementary School job, for instance. Did Adam tell you how he tried to block our bid?”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he's a jerk. But then again, as long as you've known my brother you would know that.” Ransom studied Gwen casually, sipped his tea. “When's your divorce going to be final?”

Whatever kind of tea Ransom had given her, it must have been working, because Gwen, feeling more relaxed, sat back in her seat and decided to answer his question.

“In a few months.”

“I don't understand how a man could cheat on a woman like you.”

“Oh my God. Is there anything Miss Mary
didn't
tell you?”

Ransom smiled. “That's all she said, that you left your husband after he'd been unfaithful. I'll never understand how some people can treat commitment so lightly,” Ransom said. “People don't take responsibility seriously these days.”

There it was again, that maturity that belied his years. Gwen placed the cup in its saucer and rose from the couch. She walked over to the entertainment center, where what looked like hundreds of CDs lined a number of shelves.

“I really misjudged you, didn't I?” she said without turning around. “You're nothing like I would have guessed. In fact, you're the opposite. Take this music, for instance. It's the last kind I thought you'd be listening to. My dad loved this old-style jazz with its straight ahead sound. Who would have thought…”

The rest of the sentence died on her lips as she turned around and encountered the same strong chest that she'd fantasized about ever since feeling it a month ago. She slowly raised her eyes to meet Ransom's.

“I didn't hear you walk up behind me,” she said softly.

“The mark of a true Native,” Ransom responded.

Gwen took a step back and bumped into the entertainment center. She took a step sideways and walked around him, toward the safety of the other side of the room. “Do you accept my apology?” she asked, finishing the last drops of the now cold tea.

“Have you learned your lesson?” Ransom countered.

“What lesson?” Gwen remained standing, wanting to reach for her purse, but not wanting to appear to be running away…again.

Ransom crossed his arms as he spoke. “The one about not judging someone prematurely, and not putting all young black men into one big stereotypical box.”

“Yes,” Gwen answered, forcing herself to meet Ransom's unblinking gaze. “I've learned my lesson.”

“Good,” he said. “Then come back over here.”

“Why?”

“Because I've got another lesson to teach you.”