What Matters Most (6 page)

She looked him in the eye then, bristling at his words. “How can you suggest such a thing? You warned me of the consequences if you ever crossed the line with me. I’m not sure what you think would take place, but I know you are not ready for it. As for dismissing you, who was ever stupid enough to try it?” She softened her words with a smile.

“I’m going to call a taxi for you before I get into deeper trouble,” he said, and she noticed that his gaze lingered on her mouth.
One of these days, he’s going to say the hell with it, and I know I will remember it for as long as I live.

Chapter 3

M
elanie opened the door as quietly as she could in order not to disturb her father who, she knew, would be sitting in the living room watching television and guzzling beer or asleep, having drunk too much of it.

“You coming home mighty late,” he said when he heard her footsteps.

“I just left work, Daddy. The doctor had so many patients tonight, and I couldn’t leave before the last one.”

“Yeah? Well, if you making so much overtime, where’s the money? I wanna see some money. We gotta pay these bills.”

“I get paid every two weeks, Daddy. Nurses don’t get paid by the day.”

“Don’t you smart-mouth me, young lady.”

In his present mood, she knew better than to try to defend herself. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said, going into the kitchen to find something to eat. She couldn’t go to bed without food, starved as she was, though she’d done it many times in order to avoid him. She made a cheese sandwich, got an orange and headed up to her room.

“You can’t answer me?” he yelled up after her. “This college business is going to your head.”

She went into her room, closed the door, hooked a chair under the doorknob and took a deep breath. She listened carefully, didn’t hear his footsteps on the stairs and gave silent thanks. On many occasions, her father had stood at her bedroom door yelling at her. In less than a month, she would have her degree and her certification as a registered nurse, and now with her salary she would finally be able to afford her own apartment. She studied for one of her final exams, got ready for bed, crawled in and tried to sleep.

Memories of those few minutes when Jack Ferguson held her in his arms crowded out every other thought from her mind. Exhaustion fell away, and sleep deserted her as fantasies of herself with Jack invaded her mind and desire for him throbbed inside her. What would have happened if she hadn’t moved, if she had given in to her feelings and eased her arms around his neck? Nobody had to tell her that. If they continued to work together, they would eventually consummate the passion that swirled around them.

She didn’t believe that a man with Jack Ferguson’s background, reputation and obvious wealth would settle for a woman born and raised in South Baltimore. She turned over and clawed at her pillow.
Why can’t I make love with him just once and have that sweetness, that hot passion that I see when he looks at me? Why can’t I know just once his driving power?
She chewed on the end of the pillow case and then pounded the pillow with her fist.
I want to feel him explode inside me just once.
She began to count sheep, but they all had Jack Ferguson’s face, and they all bleated so sadly. She sat up wondering if Jack was as lonely as her.

“You wanna watch your behavior,” her father said as they ate breakfast the next morning. “And you show me some money, or you get a job that pays. You’re not letting some two-bit doctor work you to death for nothing.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, gulping down her coffee. “I’ll ask for an advance.”

“Where you going now? You don’t type the term papers no more? At least they paid you the few pennies you earned.”

She took a deep breath. “I work for the doctor full-time now, Daddy. That’s why I get paid twice a month.”

He glared at her. “We have to pay the light bill. Tell him you want to get paid every Friday or he should get somebody else. You bring some money home.”

“Yes, sir. Bye, Daddy. I have to go.” She didn’t relax until she was out of the house. When she returned at four-thirty, she heated lasagna, sautéed a package of fresh spinach and broiled two halved tomatoes, set the table for her father and prepared to go to class.

Her father walked into the house as she reached the bottom stair. When he threw his hard hat on the sofa, she knew he’d fought with his boss and that he’d be in a rage. “I see you’re home at a decent hour,” he said. “Where’s the money?”

“I don’t work tonight, Daddy. I’m on my way to class.”

He towered over her like an angry bear. “So you didn’t bring any money, and that’s your excuse. School is all you think about. Get out of my sight.”

He strode past her, and as she bounded out of his way, her shoulder hit the banister with a loud thud sending pain from her neck to the tips of her fingers. She picked up her schoolbag, stumbled out the door and closed it. If only she could survive until she got the degree! A promise was a promise, but her mother had asked too much. Now his anger and abuse gave her—in effect—permission to break her promise to her mother.

When she returned home from school, his snores greeted her, and she slipped past him to the kitchen, got a sandwich and a glass of tomato juice. A hot shower soothed her aching shoulder, and she slept soundly. The next morning, she dragged herself out of bed and dressed by sheer force of will. She’d had all she was prepared to take, and her anger mounted until it became a fierce, almost dangerous, thing with energy of its own. As she descended the stairs, she tallied her grievances against her father and left home without greeting him or cooking his breakfast. He’d gone too far.

On the way to work, Melanie bought some doughnuts and decided to ask Jack if they could have a microwave oven. When she walked into the office, she realized she had come to regard it as home, for it was there that she was happiest. She made coffee and drank it in the waiting room, a place nearly as elegant as the waiting room in Jack’s Bolton Hill office. Light brown leather sofas and chairs were grouped attractively with mahogany tables on which were silk-shaded brass lamps; beige-brown Bokara carpets, machine-made but beautiful, covered the floor. She looked around at the reproductions of Doris Price, Romare Bearden, Jacob Lawrence and Elizabeth Catlett, great African-American artists, and let herself dream.

“One of these days, I’ll have beautiful things, too,’ she said aloud. After finishing her coffee and two doughnuts, she placed orders for supplies by telephone, sent bills out for patients who had insurance, wrote checks for Jack’s signature and sent thank-you notes to patients who volunteered to pay in kind.

“He’s the doctor. It’s his office and his business, but it’s our job together,” she told herself, “and I’m going to do everything I can to make Jack’s dad sorry for not supporting him in this.”

Jack arrived at the office shortly after three and greeted her with his famous smile. She vowed not to get too familiar with him, because she figured she would be the loser, but she smiled in return, because she couldn’t resist his infectious grin.

“Hi. Looks like you’ve been busy as usual,” he said, looking at the papers she’d placed on his desk. “I hadn’t thought I’d need a secretary here. We could do this at my other office where I have a secretary and a receptionist.”

She didn’t want that. What else would she do for the three full and two half days a week when they weren’t having office hours? “If I don’t get it right, okay,” she said, “but if you’re satisfied, I’d like to do it here.”

“I couldn’t be more pleased,” he said, and his grin assured her that he meant it.

“Thank you, sir.”

He sat down, leaned back in his desk chair, picked up a pen and tapped it rapidly on the desk, reminding her that he could be impatient. “Melanie. I have asked you not to call me sir, and I don’t want to hear that word come out of your mouth again when you’re addressing me.”

She looked straight at him, took in his thunderous gaze and said, “Sorry, sir. I’ll try not to do it again, sir.”

“Wh-what?” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, saw the deep crevice in his forehead and the pensive expression on his face. He sat forward, ran his hands over his tight curls and only then did he look at her. “I can’t decide whether to throttle you or kiss you.”

“Want some coffee?” she asked him.

He slumped in the chair and roared with laughter. “You’re priceless, and in more ways than one.”

As usual, the waiting room filled up almost as soon as Melanie unlocked the door. “What’s wrong with your shoulder?” Jack asked her, when she couldn’t lift a two-year-old girl.

“It’s…it’s bruised, I guess. Nothing, really.”

He looked at her strangely, as if he knew she hadn’t leveled with him. But he didn’t say more about it. After they tended to the last patient around a quarter of nine, he walked up behind her and placed his hand heavily on her shoulder.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, wincing visibly.

With both hands, he turned her around to face him. “Now, what happened to your shoulder after you left here Tuesday night? Something did. What was it?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Oh, but I do, and you’re going to tell me. Unbutton this and let me look at it.”

“But—”

“You don’t want me to do that for you. Do you?” He didn’t smile. Indeed, she’d rarely seen him so serious. She tried to unbutton the dress with her right hand, but pain shot through her right shoulder, and she had to use her left hand.

“I’ll do it,” he said. “Did you fall?” When she shook her head, a frown clouded his face. “Don’t tell me somebody hit you.”

Tears pooled in her eyes, and she tried to turn her back to him, because she didn’t want him to see her fall apart, but he wouldn’t allow it. “Talk to me, Melanie. I care about you.” He slipped the uniform off her shoulder.

“My God! Who did this to you?” He examined the bruises on her shoulder and upper arm, careful not to cause her pain. “I don’t know whether there’s a fracture. If it hurts tomorrow, I want you to get a CT scan. All right?”

She could no longer restrain the tears, and sobs wracked her body. His hands reached out to her, but then he stepped back. “Who was it, Melanie? This is criminal.”

“My…my father bumped into me, and I fell.”

“Your
father?
Good Lord!” His arms enveloped her, and she couldn’t stop the tears. He picked her up, carried her to one of the leather chairs and sat with her in his lap.

“Tell me about it.” She did, beginning with the day her mother died. He soothed her as best he could, but they both knew she wasn’t sitting on Jack Ferguson’s lap because of what her father did.

“Why do you stay with him?”

“Because my mother begged me not to leave him until I finished school, and because he gave me a home, such as it was, even though he expects me to pay for it.”

“I want you to get your own apartment. If you continue to stay with him, one day he may endanger your life, even kill you. You don’t owe him a damn thing. Do you want me to go home with you tonight?”

“Oh, no! That would really set him off. He’ll be furious when I get there, but he’ll see a different Melanie. I’ve always been respectful, but not tonight. I’ll give him as good as he gives me.”

“If you’re sure, but I’m here if you need me. He’s a bully, but he won’t take me on. Please don’t provoke him.”

She stood, looked down at him and wondered why she wasn’t in his arms. Without thinking of the implications of what she did, she reached down and stroked his cheek. “You’re such a good man, a wonderful human being. A prince.”

His eyes darkened as his gaze locked on her, and she knew at once that she’d done and said the wrong thing. He bounded out of the chair. “You think I’m a prince, do you?” His stare challenged her to lie.

She’d never stammered before, so why couldn’t her words come out. “You kn-know…wh-what I mean.”

“No, I don’t.” He brought her to him so quickly that she didn’t know how it happened.

“Jack…I—”

He tightened his hold on her. “You knew it had to happen. You knew it the minute we met,” he whispered, and his lips, sweet and hot, burned her mouth, and wave on wave of heat seared her. “Open up to me, Melanie.” Tremors laced his voice.

Shivers raced through her in anticipation of the feel of him inside her at last. She parted her lips, and he went into her, testing, tasting and sampling every crevice, ever centimeter of her mouth. She sucked his tongue deeper into her mouth, and as his long fingers stroked her back, she feasted on it. Her nipples tightened against his chest, and she rubbed on him in frustration. Her groans mingled with his, and suddenly she pushed him away from her. But, as quickly, he brought her back into the cradle of his arms as if to soften the brunt of their separation. Her eyes and her cheeks bloomed beneath the sweetness of his lips.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do about this, Melanie, but I do know that I wanted you the minute I saw you. I thought I could control it or that it would wear off, but I’ve been learning how unlikely that is. Are you all right?”

She stared at him, feeling not one bit angelic. “Apart from frustration, you mean?”

The sound of laughter began deep in him and slowly rumbled out of his throat. “Your choice. I know how you feel. Will you call me when you get home? I’ll stay right here until I hear from you. Tomorrow, you take the day off and look for an apartment.”

“Hmm. I see the bossy Jack is back with us. I already know where I want to stay. It’s a development that opened several weeks ago. I’ll call them in the morning.”

He took both of her hands and looked into her eyes. “I’m counting on that, Melanie. I don’t want to think of you living there any longer. You’ve paid your dues, and he owes you a better life than he’s given you. I don’t mean financially, because I don’t know his circumstances, but he owed you a father’s love and protection from abuse and harm of any kind. I find it hard to forgive him for causing you to fall and hurt yourself. If you need money for the rent, phone me, and you can have a salary advance.”