Fools Rush In Page 10

  She wouldn’t let the woman’s sputters and her disconcerted, “Wh…Wha…What?” deter her. She’d made up her mind that, if she couldn’t tell him in person, she’d find another way.

  “I said, please tell my father that I love him.”

  “Well…uh, yes. Of course. Good-bye,” came the voice, less crisp now and far from officious.

  “I’m not going to let it get to me,” Justine told herself—aloud for emphasis. She did the one thing that was certain to buoy her spirits. She got a cassette of Mozart music and went across the hall to be with her child.

  A car shot past on Piney Branch Road just as Duncan turned into it, barely missing a collision. He should have stopped at that intersection, but his mind had been on the events of the previous night. He couldn’t protect every slum kid in the District of Columbia, but he had promised himself that he’d be there for Rags and Mitch whenever they needed him. He’d known from the distress in Mitch’s voice that Rags would be involved in that rumble. The two boys, half-brothers, had spent more of their lives on the street than in a normal home. Thank God, he’d gotten there in time. Five minutes later and Rags would have been in the heat of it, or worse, a casualty. He had tried without success to convince the boy that carrying grudges and harboring hatred didn’t hurt anybody but him.

  Banks shifted beside him. He supposed his narrow escape from a collision had upset her, so it surprised him when she calmly asked, “Why do you persist in getting a wife you don’t know and don’t love? You struck out with Marie, and you’d known her for a couple of years before you married her. Duncan, you don’t make sense.”

  Duncan moved into the right lane and prepared to exit Piney Branch Road onto Georgia Avenue. He did not want to rehash that topic with his sister, but she’d latched onto it with all the tenacity of a teenage boy on the trail of his first sex interest.

  “Leah, I’d as soon not discuss Marie. I need a wife, and this is the best way to go about it, because I’ve sworn undying love for the last time.”

  “Humph.” She sucked her teeth. “I wish you could hear yourself. Suppose the woman you do marry isn’t good to Tonya? Uh…Tell me. What do you think of Justine, anyway?” He came to a halt at the red light. “Duncan, for goodness sake. You can’t say a word about the way Wayne drives.”

  “Sorry. I thought I could make that light.”

  “Yeah. Just like you think you’ll get married to somebody you don’t know and could come to hate. Nobody you marry will get your mind off Justine.”

  He wished she’d get off that sermon. “Leah, for heaven’s sake. Ever since Wayne got into your system, you’ve taken to some fanciful thinking.”

  She laughed aloud, surprising him, because he’d thought she might be annoyed. “He’s there, all right. And he can stop running.”

  Duncan slowed down at Independence Avenue and turned left into the famous thoroughfare. “I’ll drop you at First and Independence. Okay?”

  “Sure. Duncan, why won’t you tell me the reason why Wayne is…well…kinda cool. He likes me.”

  Duncan pulled up the curb and stopped. “I told you, and Justine told you. Be softer with him. Wayne’s tough, but if he likes you, Leah, you can easily turn him off with your razor tongue. He’s a good guy, but he’s not going to stand for any nonsense. Just relax with him and be yourself.” He expelled a long breath. “Look I am not going to help a man get my kid sister into the sack. So don’t ask me about him again.”

  He couldn’t believe it when she threw both arms around his neck and laughed. “You mean that’s how to seduce him? Oh, Duncan, you’re wonderful.”

  When he could get his breath, he took her face in his hands and stared into her eyes. “That’s how you’ll get seduced. So be careful.”

  “Not on your life,” she sang, grabbed her briefcase, kissed him on the cheek, and got out of the car.

  He watched her until she was out of sight. Wayne. The lucky dog. Did Justine think of him that way? He swore at himself, started the engine, and headed for Baltimore.

  He bumped into Wayne when he got off the elevator in the Roundtree building, raised his hand for a greeting, strode past his boss without having said a word, went into his office, and closed the door.

  Seconds later, Wayne pushed it open. “Which hornet’s nest did you bump into?”

  “What? Oh, sorry, man. How’d the pictures of the rumble in D.C. last night come out? The boys were all underage, so I couldn’t get their names.”

  “Just as well,” Wayne said. “If they see their names in the paper, they’ll have something to strut about. How many paragraphs did you give it?”

  “Three, and that’s more than it deserves. I’m sick of glorifying these gangs. I didn’t mention the gang names, either. Several bystanders were injured, but that was because some adults were yelling and shoving in order to get a good look at kids trying to kill each other.”

  Wayne punched air with his left fist. “With grown-ups acting like that, what can you expect of kids? We’ll trash the photos. What’s eating you, man?”

  “Nothing that won’t pass. I suppose the Lord knew what he was doing when he made women, and I’m glad he did, but I wish to hell I could understand them.”

  “Justine?”

  Duncan reached into his desk drawer, took out a wooden ball that he often whittled on, and rubbed it as though it were a pacifier. He didn’t want to talk with Wayne or anybody else about his feelings right then. He threw the ball up, caught it, and put it in his pocket. What the hell! Wayne was part of the problem.

  “Justine and Leah.”

  Wayne took a seat in the office’s only vacant chair. “Now, we’re getting down to business. What about Leah?”

  Duncan slapped his left fist into his right palm and stared into Wayne’s hazel eyes. “Are you interested in Leah?”

  Wayne took his time answering. “Leah? Yeah. I’m interested. Very much so. Anything else bothering you?”

  Duncan rubbed the ball of wood in his right jacket pocket and let a smile float over his face. “Leah was six months old when our father died; I helped raise her. You’re the brother I never had, Wayne, and I’d defend you with my life.”

  “But you’d mow me down over Leah. Right?”

  “Just about right, man. I know she lets her wit get out of hand, but—”

  Wayne held up both hands, palms out. “Don’t tell me. I want to learn about Leah from her. Now that you’ve gotten into mybusiness, when are you going to tell Dee Dee to stop running that notice?”

  “But it was your idea.”

  “All right. So I’m not perfect. When you get back home, man, take a good look at Justine. From what I saw, I’d say she’s choice. First rate.”

  Duncan stared at him. “You’re interested in Leah. Right?”

  Wayne enjoyed his big laugh almost too much for Duncan’s comfort. “Man, you’ve got a problem. I want Leah to straighten out her act, but Justine’s already got it together, and you’re waltzing around her like you think she comes by the dozen. Man, good women are rare.”

  “You think you have to tell me? I’ve had a little more experience with this than you have.”

  Wayne showed white teeth in a wide grin. “Then I suppose you’ve given a lot of thought to your cockamamie notion of becoming a celibate—”

  “What? Who gave you that idea?”

  Wayne’s face was the picture of innocence. “Well, if you get married, man, you’re married, and you can’t fool around even if it is a marriage of convenience. Vows are vows.”

  Duncan laid back his head against his chair and let the mirth pour out of him, laughing until his breath hung in his throat. When he could, he said, “Do you know, I never thought of that? Good Lord!”

  “Dead issue?”

  “Deader than an Egyptian mummy. At least the celibate part.”

  Duncan got home that evening around seven o’clock, and Mattie met him at the door.

  “They ain’t here, Mr. B. They been gone since noon, and th
ey ain’t got back here yet.”

  Her voice escalated with each word she uttered. He told himself not to let Mattie upset him.

  Chapter 5

  He had exhausted the possibilities, the places where logic told him they might be. Try the hospitals? He couldn’t deal with that thought right then. He lowered his head into his hands and tried to think. Maybe if he changed the scenery, if he went for a walk, he’d think of something.

  Mattie met him on the stairs. “Mr. B, Mr. B. Did you find out anything, Mr. B?”

  For once, the purple bird’s nest on her head that passed for hair didn’t amuse him. Looking up at him, wringing her hands, and not bothering to hold back the tears that flowed down her cheeks, she was the epitome of misery. He lifted her and held her.

  “Don’t cry, Mattie, We don’t know that anything’s happened to them.” He set her down and patted her shoulder.

  “I…I’d feel a whole lot better if they was home here.”

  As if she needed to articulate that sentiment. Mattie was a riot even when she was sad and serious, but she’d said what he felt.

  “And I’d feel a whole lot better if you did some of your famous praying right now. I’m going out back. I’ve got my cell phone, so transfer any calls that come in.”

  Her hands went to her practically nonexistent hips. “You insult my religion. What you think I been doing, Mr. B? I already been praying. Ain’t you worried none? This ain’t a bit like Justine. She don’t do things like this, Mr. B. Every single thing she do, she do it on time. Right by the clock. I tell you, it ain’t good.”

  He put on the best face he could manage, because he didn’t need to have Mattie break down and add to his problem. “I’m not exactly in a dancing mood, Mattie, but I have to keep a clear head. Now. You go back downstairs and try to make yourself busy. No news is good news.”

  She opened her mouth, then dropped her top lip over her upper front teeth—an act that changed her personality—and shook her finger at Duncan. “You ain’t been doing nothing wrong that you’re about to get paid for, has you?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets, loped down the stairs, and called over his shoulder, “I’m not the one keeping records, so I can’t answer that. Call me if the phone in my office rings.”

  If Mattie knew how upset he was, she’d probably convene a prayer meeting. He stood on the back lawn with his left foot propped against a big piece of driftwood that he’d collected on the beach in Ocean City after a deep-sea fishing trip. He didn’t know what he’d do if anything happened to them. Either one of them. She was in trouble, or she’d call him. Nothing would convince him that she’d keep Tonya out so late, without dinner, disturbing the child’s sleeping schedule. He walked over to a rose trellis, pushed aside one of the stems that languished there—bare but for their thorns—and sat on the stone bench beneath it. The rising wind brought the smell of dying autumn leaves and the threat of a storm, and his belly knotted as tension coiled within him. Heaven forbid that they should be out in an electric storm. He unhooked his cell phone from his belt and called Wayne.

  “I was just leaving,” Wayne told him. “What’s up?”

  Duncan explained about Justine and Tonya’s mysterious absence. He didn’t expect Wayne to know where they were, but he might have some thoughts as to where to look. “This is unlike Justine, Wayne, and I’m sure something’s wrong.”

  “Did you call the police?”

  “Not yet. I didn’t want to do that ’til I had to. It’s my last resort. In twenty minutes, every cameraman and his granddaddy would be parked in front of my house. You know that.”

  “Yeah. Look, buddy. I was about to go to Frederick, but I think I’ll come over there. You might need me.”

  “I might. Why don’t you stay there for another half hour. If you don’t hear from me in that time, go to Frederick, and I’ll call you at home.”

  After a long silence, during which Wayne appeared to consider Duncan’s suggestion, he said, “All right. Hang in there.”

  He bunched his shoulders as shivers raced through him, not from the evening chill or the rapidly rising wind, but from the gnawing anxiety that he could no longer keep at bay. Scattered drops of rain dampened his bare head. Where could they be? He didn’t want them out in that weather. Why didn’t he get a call back from at least one of the fifteen inquiries he’d made? He walked forty feet to the edge of the empty pool and retraced his steps, looked up at the dark clouds, and admitted that he didn’t want to lose Justine any more than he could bear the loss of Tonya. Maybe if he got into his car and combed the streets…He couldn’t remember when he’d last prayed, but he found the words as he grappled with the pain that seared his heart.

  “Mr. B, Mr. B.”

  He didn’t wait to hear more, but jumped onto the deck, dashed into the house, and sprinted down the long hallway to the front door where Mattie stood tugging at the door knob. He slipped the lock and yanked open the door. His gaze landed upon the six-foot, five inches tall policeman who stood there, and his heart stopped.

  “Duncan Banks?”

  He’d never know how he managed it, but he heard himself say, “I’m Duncan Banks.”

  Simultaneously, he heard the words, “Daaaady. Daaaady,” and shoved aside the massive form in front of him.

  “Justine. Oh, sweetheart. Tonya.”

  She was there with his child, and he had her in his arms, feeling her warm life-filled body. He hugged and hugged them both until his arms ached.

  “Uh…I take it these are your folks and it’s all right for me to leave,” the officer said.

  Still holding them close, Duncan tried to remember why the man stood there.

  “I escorted Ms. Taylor and your baby girl home,” the officer explained.

  “Oh, yes. Thank you, Officer. Forgive me, but I’ve been out of my mind for the last three hours, and—”

  “No problem, sir. I can imagine what you must have been going through.”

  “I doubt that, officer. I can’t thank you enough.”

  The policeman tipped his hat, turned and left. Duncan caught himself as he was about to lift Justine and carry them both into the house. He let out a tension releasing guffaw just as a torrent of windswept rain pushed him into the house. He slammed the door, looked down at the two people in his arms, hugged them close to his chest, and nearly wept at the feel of Tonya’s little fingers on his face.

  “I know it was awful for you not knowing where we were, Duncan, but I had no way of getting in touch with you. I’m sorry.”

  He wanted to erase the plea from her tired eyes. Didn’t she know that he hadn’t cared about anything but their safety? “We won’t talk about it now. It’s enough that you’re both here and that you’re all right. Are you hungry?”

  Her attempt at a smile pulled at his heart. “I’m starved. The police gave Tonya some chocolate milk, but that’s all they had. I expect she’s hungry anyway.”

  “Maybe Mr. B don’t need to know, but since I aged another fifty-two years, where y’all been? Your dinner’s cold, and I practically used up a years’ worth of prayers. I tell you, Justine, I just about died worryin’ ’bout you and Tonya.”

  Duncan took the baby when Justine shifted the child to her left side. She thanked him with her eyes, and he could see her fatigue. “I’m sorry, Mattie. The drugstore clerk called, but there was no answer, and I didn’t have Duncan’s cell number. I couldn’t call later, because I didn’t have one penny, and the police didn’t believe my story. You don’t have to fix anything for me; I can do it.”

  “You got touched in the head since you left here, I see. You go get yourself together and look after Tonya; I’ll have you something ready in twenty minutes. It shore is good to see ya.” She looked toward the ceiling. “Yessir, it shore is.”

  Duncan carried Tonya in the curve of his left arm and with his right arm around Justine’s waist, walked up the stairs with them. “I’ll give her a bath and feed her.” He laid Tonya on her bed. “Justine, I w
ant you to rest a little before we eat.”

  He knew he stared at her as though he’d never seen her before, but his heart said he must always have known her, for she’d so easily become important to him. “Go on. I’ll look after her. You’ve got to be exhausted.”

  She moved away, then leaned to him, kissed his cheek, and rushed out of the room. His left hand drifted to the spot where her lips had been, and a wild fire of desire blazed through him. He started after her and stopped himself as his glance captured Tonya’s restless turning and twisting on her bed.

  He bent over and kissed his child. “But for you, Sweetie, I’d probably have done something I’d regret for a long time.”

  As soon as he’d bathed and dressed Tonya, she returned to her cheerful, smiling self. He answered the door expecting to see Justine, but Mattie handed him a bowl of Cream of Wheat and a bottle of milk.

  “Thanks, Mattie. You’re a peach.”

  She gave him a good look at her two upper front teeth. “That’s what my Moe tells me all the time, Mr. B. Don’t you men know no other ways to praise a woman?”

  He concentrated on feeding Tonya and forced himself not to laugh. “I don’t know about Moe, but I’ve got a bag full of ’em. Sure you want to hear a few?” He stuck his tongue in the lower part of his right cheek.

  Mattie beamed at him. “You hush your mouth, Mr. B. I tell you, you shore is something.”

  He grinned as the door closed. She must have been a man’s woman through and through when she was about twenty-five. More than twice that age, she still enjoyed her femininity. “Way to go, Moe,” he said, sat Tonya on his knee, and rocked her to sleep while he sang “I Still Suits Me,” one of the Paul Robeson songs that she loved.

  Justine stepped out of the shower, dried off, and looked at herself in the mirror. Good Lord! The steam had kinked her hair and made it unmanageable just when she wanted to look decent. She could be signing her death warrant, but she’d never known the feeling she got when Duncan rushed to them and took her in his arms. It wasn’t for Tonya alone. His hands had given her a lover’s caress, and when he’d squeezed her to him, he hadn’t communicated gratitude for their safety, but deep caring. She couldn’t give what he would some day ask, but she needed to be needed, and she longed for the tenderness that he’d showed her he could give. Dear Lord, if only for a little while, for a few minutes, she could know his strength and passion without suffering consequences that could doom her forever.