Until I Saw Your Smile (35 page)

Chapter 27

S
unday was a repeat of Saturday, with Matthew filling in behind the counter while Angela tried to keep her display cases filled with pastries, turnovers, and cookies. Matthew had little to greet customers with since it was National Pistachio Day, For Pete's Sake Day, and Levi Strauss Day, according to Angela's holiday notebook.

Unfortunately, the mostly churchgoing crowd didn't look nutty or frustrated, and none of them wore jeans.

During his
three
hours behind the counter, Matthew received no tips.

He did, however, receive a series of phone calls that had his cell phone buzzing.

“You going to answer that?” Angela asked as she rushed a tray of cinnamon twists into the case.

“It'll go to voice mail,” Matthew said.

“You can answer it.” She started counting raspberry turnovers.

I prefer to give whomever it is the silent treatment.
“I'm getting slammed over here,” he said, smiling at a customer dressed to the nines in a black three-piece suit.
If he isn't the preacher, he should be.

Angela touched his elbow. “It's all right. It might be a potential client.” She whispered, “And if it's one of your exes, you have to let me listen to any message they leave, okay?”

Matthew nodded. “How may I help you, sir?”

“Two large house blends,” he grunted.

The churchman is in a bad mood.
Matthew smiled. “Coming right up.”

The churchman did not tip him.

Late that night, after giving the entire shop a thorough cleaning, Angela curled up with Matthew on the couch and listened to Matthew's voice mails.

The first, a 963 number at eight
PM
, was only static.

“That would probably be Jade,” Matthew said.

“She's certainly persistent,” Angela said. “How'd she get your cell number?”

“No idea,” Matthew said.

“It's probably written on the wall of some cell at the jail,” Angela said. “Which isn't that bad for a lawyer who needs clients. What did you see in her?”

“I was looking for danger that night, so I guess I saw danger,” Matthew said.

“I'm pretty dangerous,” Angela said.

“Yes, you are,” Matthew said. “You have a hammer and a Taser. You're also quite a streaker.”

“I can't believe I did that,” Angela said.

“I will never forget how the candlelight hit your booty,” Matthew said, “until you blew it out, that is.”

“I nearly slipped and fell,” Angela said. “When's Jade get out?”

“Three years,” Matthew said.

Angela kissed the back of Matthew's hand. “She has missed her window of opportunity forever.”

Michael's voice then crackled from the cell phone:

“I know you haven't been home because you're not calling me back. I hope you survived the storm in style, big dog. Do I know her? Hey, Victoria is burning up my ears, man. I think she not only wants to go out, she wants to hook up. Do you know how
rare
that is? She says she might actually invite you up to see the
view.
You know what that means? Wall Street was in a bull market the last time she showed anyone the
view.
You have her panting like one of her Pomeranians, man. Give me a call.”

“Victoria can't seem to lower herself to call me herself,” Matthew said.

“Is she really . . . gorgeous?” Angela asked.

“I'm sure she paid a great deal for her body,” Matthew said. “There was something unnatural about her. I like natural.”

Angela held his hands to her chest. “You better. That's all I've got.”

Mary's message came next: “Matthew, it's Mary, and I can't stop thinking about you. Give me a call.”

“Guess she and Pastor are off,” Angela said. “You adultery wrecker, you.”

I don't think she and Pastor were ever
on
.

Allison's bouncy voice then filled the room. “I found your cell number! Sort of. I had erased it from my cell phone and my message board, but I was still able to see part of it. I only dialed four wrong numbers before I heard your sexy voice. Guess what, Matt? It's been eight days! Can you believe it? I'm so proud of myself. I boxed up all my diaries and put them in storage. I'm just going to take life one day at a time from now on. Give me a call if you ever get bored. Bye.”

“What's been eight days?” Angela asked.

“Since her last drink,” Matthew said. “She's going to AA now.”

“So she says,” Angela said.

“She certainly sounds soberer.”
Is that a word?

“Drunks drink to
sound
sober sometimes,” Angela said. “She says you have a sexy voice.”

Matthew kissed her ear. “Do I?”

“Sometimes.”

The last voice mail was from his father: “Matthew, it's Poppa. Hope you're all right. That was some storm! Let us know how you're doing sometime. Bye.”

Matthew picked up his phone. “I better call him.” He hit the number 2 on the keypad.

“You have your parents on speed dial?” Angela asked.

“It's the only one I've ever set.” He turned on the phone's speaker and placed it on the coffee table.

“Hello? Is that you, Matthew?” his father asked.

“Hey, Pop,” Matthew said. “How's the weather down there?”

“You know I can't complain,” his father said. “Mid-sixties. How many inches did you get?”

“Officially twenty-six,” Matthew said.

“Wow,” his father said. “How's business?”

“Good, Pop.” He smiled at Angela. “Hey, I've put you on speaker so you could talk to someone.”

“Let me do the same here so I don't have to repeat everything to your mother,” his father said. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes, Pop,” Matthew said. “Mom, you there?”

“I'm here,” his mother said. “It's so
nice
of you to
finally
call.”

She's angry. I need to call her more often.
“I'd like you both to meet Angela Smith. She's sitting here with me.” He nodded at Angela.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. McConnell,” Angela said.

“Hello, Angela,” his father said.

“Did he say Angela?” his mother asked. “I thought her name was Joy.”

“Mom, Joy left me a few weeks ago, and now I'm seeing Angela,” Matthew said quickly.

“Where did Joy go?” his mother asked.

“To the Dominican Republic,” Matthew said.

“Wasn't she from Honduras?” his mother asked.

“It's a long story, Mom,” Matthew said.
Which she will want to hear now.

“I
like
to hear long stories from the boy I gave birth to,” his mother said. “I don't hear them that often, you know.”

I
really
need to call her more often.
“Joy ran off with an exchange teacher.”

“They have those?” his mother asked.

“Yes, they have those, Mom,” Matthew said.

“I never liked her, you know,” his mother said.

“I know you didn't,” Matthew said. “I've been meeting clients in Angela's coffee shop. You remember Smith's Sweet Treats and Coffee on Driggs Avenue?”

“Oh, sure,” his father said. “Great coffee.”

“Their apple turnovers were to die for,” his mother said.

“They still are, Mom,” Matthew said. “Angela runs the place by herself now.”

“That's not quite true,” Angela said. “Matthew helps me run the register when I'm really busy, and he helps me clean up, too.”

“You have him cleaning up?” his father asked.

“Yes sir,” Angela said.

“That's one thing I could never get him to do around our store,” his father said. “Did he tell you about our store?”

“I went there a few times when I was little,” Angela said. “Your prices were always fair.”

“Thank you, Angela,” his father said. “That's nice to hear.”

“So,” his mother said loudly, “are you two an item?”

Here it comes.
“Yes, Mom. We are in a committed, monogamous relationship.”

Angela stared at Matthew.

“Just listen,” he mouthed.

“But you only just met each other, right?” his mother asked.

“Yes, Mom.”

“How committed could you two be in such a short time?” his mother asked.

“We're very committed, Mom,” Matthew said.

“Are you living together?” his mother asked.

Matthew shrugged. “I'm spending more time at her apartment than mine, but I haven't moved in with her nor she with me.”

“Oh?” his mother said.

I hate when she does this.
“That's where I am now.”

“Oh?” his mother said.

I will not go for three oh's in a row.
“I'd like to come visit you two this summer.” He looked at Angela. “And I'd like to bring Angela with me.”

Angela shook her head. “I have a store to run,” she whispered.

“We'd love to have you, Angela,” his father said. “You know the guest room is always ready for you, Matthew.”

“Thanks, Pop,” Matthew said. “How's your hip, Mom?”

“She's gone to the kitchen, Matthew,” his father whispered. “I'm taking you off speaker.”

Matthew heard a
click.

“She's not doing any worse,” his father said. “We're both slowing down.”

“You're both taking all your medications, though, right?” Matthew asked.

“Like clockwork.” His father sighed. “She's calling me for something. I have to go. Angela?”

“Yes, Mr. McConnell?” Angela asked.

“Take care of our boy, okay?” his father asked.

“I'll try,” Angela said.

“Thanks for calling, Matthew,” his father said. “I hope to see you both this summer. Good-bye.”

Matthew closed his phone. “What do you think of my mother?”

“You take after your daddy for the most part,” Angela said. “But why did you include me in your visit? You know I can't leave the store.”

“Even for a few days?” Matthew asked.

“No.”

Matthew nibbled at her neck. “Not even for one day?”

“Stop.” She leaned away from his lips. “Maybe one day.” She rubbed her neck. “Don't take this the wrong way, but how mean is your mother?”

“She's not mean,” Matthew said. “At least I don't think she means to be mean. She has never approved of unmarried people living together. It's the main reason she hated Joy.”

“Ah,” Angela said. “So it wasn't because Joy had the brains of a pigeon?”

“I'm sure that played a part,” Matthew said.

“So it's best we don't live together, for her sake.” She wrinkled up her lips.

What about my sake? Or Angela's sake?
“When my lease is up at the end of March, I was hoping I could move in here with you.”

Angela blinked. “You were?”

“I am.”

“Really?”

“Really. It will help us both financially, right?”

“Right.” Angela stretched her arms over her head and ran her fingers through his hair. “But I want your mother to like me. If you move in . . .”

“She'll like you,” Matthew said. “And if we talk marriage and children, she'll love you.”

Angela smiled. “Marriage and children.”

“Joy avoided that subject at all costs,” Matthew said. “She once told me she was allergic to marriage.”
She also told me she was allergic to babies. Who could be allergic to a baby?
“What do you say to marriage?”

“With whom?” Angela asked, her eyes wide.

“With me,” Matthew said.

“Well, I
guess
I like the idea,” Angela said.

“You don't sound too enthusiastic, Miss Smith.”

Angela pulled his face to hers and kissed him firmly. “Okay, I
love
the idea, Matthew.” Her eyes drifted toward the bedroom.

Matthew didn't notice.

“Hey, man, I'm making some bedroom eyes over here,” she said.

“Oh.” Matthew slid from behind her and stood. “And I will carry you and your bedroom eyes to the bedroom.”

Angela stood on the couch with her arms around his neck. “Don't drop me.”

“I won't.”

He scooped her up and walked deliberately though the kitchen and into the bedroom. He set her on the bed, where she stood bouncing, her hands on the ceiling.

“I want to try something different tonight,” she said.

Matthew stripped down to his boxers. “I'm all for something different.”

She stripped down to her underwear, pulled back the covers, and lay on her side. “I want you to sleep behind me.”

“You sure?” Matthew asked.

“No,” she said in a small voice.

Matthew slid in behind her, careful not to put any pressure on her booty.