One of a kind, p.2
One of a Kind, page 2
“You take it very personally when you lose a kid. Dex, you are but one man. Even you have to rest and rejuvenate.” Dexter tensed, he didn’t know how much Anthia really knew about his past. He’d never had the guts to ask. She was a friend, someone he treasured. In truth he hoped she didn’t ever find out his personal history. He knew he could not bear to see the disapproval and horror on her lovely face. He did not want to even think about losing her friendship. He had been very careful not to let her get too close or let his own male hunger overwhelm him. Their friendship was essential to his well-being.
“I’m too stubborn to quit,” he shrugged.
“Are you concerned for a particular child?” she asked, trying to read his face.
“Yeah,” he said gruffly, shocked by her insight. Were his thoughts written all over his face? He frowned, not liking the concept. “I met him while I was speaking at one of the high schools this past week. One of our kids pointed him out to me. I only spoke to him briefly, but I didn’t like what I heard about his life.”
His tireless devotion to helping black boys was only one of the things she admired about him. He put his heart into what he was doing. She had never known him to give up on any kid. He tried and tried, unwilling to leave anything to chance. Dexter quite literally had committed his life to this cause.
Anthia could only imagine what it would feel like to have this man’s devotion directed her way. Shivers raced down her spine from just the possibility and her nipples pouted against the soft fabric of her top. Although, she wore a bra, her breasts ached as if they were exposed, eager for his attention. Was he a hungry, intense lover? Or was he slow and meticulous when it came to giving his woman pleasure? Goodness!
She quickly turned away, pretending an absorption in putting the coffee cake on a plate. Just what was her problem? Was she letting one kiss shared months ago cloud her thinking? In another minute, she’d be throwing herself at a man who was only interested in her friendship.
So why had he kissed her? Had it simply been a wild impulse? Perhaps a momentary lapse? It was a question that had been rattling around inside of her head for months. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the nerve to voice the question.
Curiosity got the better of her, she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “What brought you out this way? I haven’t seen you in quite some time,” she smiled, hoping to keep the hurt out of her tone. He had been so good to her, she didn’t want him to think that she was ungrateful.
More nights than she could count had been spent with him, as they shared a late-night meal after she had spent long hours with Jeff at the hospital and he at the community center. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was making any demands on him. He’d even been a real sport and volunteered to help her load the van and drive Jeff down to Georgia for college.
Anthia would have been shocked if she could guess his thoughts. He knew he should have called first. He knew he should not have come. He could not help himself. He simply had to see her. He’d purposefully withheld that pleasure as punishment for his pitiful lack of control. He should not have held her close and most certainly should not have kissed her.
He had to keep himself on a very short leash when it came to Anthia. He had done so for several months now out of necessity. Even though he knew he was all wrong for her and that she deserved much better than an ex-con, nonetheless, he could not go another day without seeing her.
He had needed to look into her pretty brown face and indulge himself by viewing her petite curvy figure with deep masculine yearning. He was painfully aware of her. He was rock-hard with longing. He took a deep fortifying breath, hoping to calm himself. He should not have come. She was too damn tempting.
Any man would be lucky to call this woman his. She was warm and caring yet, she was a fighter. He admired the way she had raised her son alone and made no apologies for it.
“Yeah, it has been.” Dexter frowned. He hadn’t been the one she called when she needed a picture hung or a piece of heavy furniture moved. Was she seeing someone new? Or was that jerk Doug Henderson back in her life? He ground his teeth in frustration. It was none of his business.
At least they talked once a week or so, but she was not the one initiating the calls. She had not dialed his number since the day she moved into the house... the day he kissed her. Had his loss of control ruined their friendship and made him just too dense to notice?
“How’s business, boss lady?”
She giggled. “Great. I’ve got so many orders that I was forced to seek help with the sewing. Dana Gray. Do you know her? She lives in the old building.” Anthia was referring to the apartment building that she grew up in.
Dexter frowned, not liking the area, It was close to the center and had some serious gang activity going on. He, too, had been raised not too far away. “No, I don’t know Dana. Glad to hear you’re not working yourself into the ground.”
Anthia shrugged her shoulders. “I admit I overdo some things, but it doesn’t feel like work because I love what I’m doing. Because of Dana’s help I’m able to concentrate on sculpting and designing these days and less and less on sewing.” Her one-of-a-kind dolls were in demand. The word was getting out about not only the high quality of her work but the individual nature. Her mail was filled with photographs of people who wanted either their likeness or a family member’s captured. And they were willing to pay the staggering prices necessary to produce such an elaborate piece of folk art.
“I found the perfect name for the company, One of a Kind.”
He grinned, “It fits. Your work is first-class.”
Anthia blushed. “Thank you. I had no idea there were so many collectors out there and not only in the states, but from all over the world. I’ve been very lucky.” Handing him the tray, she said, “Let’s have this in the living room. I hardly ever sit in there with Jeff away at school.”
“How is he?” Dexter asked as he carried the tray. He placed it on the wide marble coffee table before he sat adjacent to her on the love seat while she settled on the sofa. That particular sitting area was positioned in front of a brick fireplace. Across from them was a big picture window that was flanked on both sides by twin taupe high-back armchairs. The round marble table separating the chairs held Anthia’s collection of family photographs. Her skill with a needle was evident by the needlepoint and embroidered pillows scattered about.
“He’s doing well. He’s keeping up with his physical therapy and his grades are high. I am so proud of that boy,” she beamed as she filled their cups from a silver pot.
“Jeff is why I’m here. I thought you might persuade him to stop by the center when he comes home for his next break. Give a pep talk to the fellows.”
Two
Anthia schooled her face, careful not to let him see her disappointed that his reason for coming had nothing to do with her. She handed him a slice of the coffee cake before she said, shaking her head, “I don’t know Dex. He’s still so self-conscious since the accident.” She preferred to call it an accident even though, he’d been shot during an armed robbery.
Jeff had made the horrible mistake of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He had made the near fatal mistake of taking a ride from a friend from their old neighborhood. Eddie Walker and Jeff had grown up together. Anthia and Jeff had moved away into a better area, which meant on her salary a one-bedroom flat. Jeff’s bedroom had been the sofabed in their living room.
Anthia had made a point of enrolling him in the community center. While Jeff had worked hard getting good grades in school, going to the center and being influenced by men like Dexter and Charles, Eddie had done the opposite. He had indulged himself in the street life... fast money and gangs... a brotherhood of crime and drugs.
On this particular day, Jeff had been led like a lamb to slaughter as far as Anthia was concerned. He had been left in the running car waiting for Eddie while he went inside the convenience store.
Unknown to Jeff, Eddie was using him to keep the car running while he robbed the store. Jeff had grown impatient with the delay and walked right into Eddie’s mess. Eddie had tossed the gun at Jeff before going to collect the money. Jeff had caught it without thinking, demanding to know what was going on. When Jeff turned to leave, the outraged store owner had found enough courage to shoot Jeff in the back. He had wound up in the hospital fighting for his life while Eddie had vanished, leaving Jeff to take the rap. Anthia shuddered at the hateful memory.
“Don’t you think he has hidden himself away long enough? He had friends at the center. Besides, he can help others, if he’s willing to tell his story to the new guys, the next time he’s home on break. Tell them what he has lived. He can show just by being there that guns and drugs go hand in hand. The most innocent situation can prove deadly.”
Anthia, thoughtfully sipped her drink watching as Dexter seemed to savor the coffee cake. The accident had left Jeff, first in a wheelchair for close to a year, and now finally he was able to walk with the aid of crutches. It had been a long, painful ordeal that still unfortunately wasn’t entirely over.
She could never forget that long agonizing night of the shooting. Dexter, Charles and Diane Randol and Doug Henderson, the man she was dating casually at the time, had all been there with her.
Dexter and Charles had eventually found Eddie. With the legal help of Quinn Montgomery, prominent criminal attorney, Jeff had eventually been exonerated while Eddie had been convicted for armed robbery. Their later civil suit against the store owner had paid the mountain of medical bills not covered by their insurance as well as Jeff’s college expenses.
“Jeff’s had a few difficult years, but he has bounced back.”
“I’ll give him a call and let you know what he says.”
“Thanks,” he smiled coming to his feet. “I have to be going. Thanks for the refreshments. That coffee cake was good, girl.”
Disappointed, she said, “I’ll wrap a piece for you. You don’t have to rush off, you know.”
“I’ve kept you from your work long enough.”
Anthia shook her head. “No problem. I can always use a break. I’ll get that cake.” She excused herself. In the kitchen she consoled herself that at least he had come to the house for a visit as she cut another large slice of cake.
“Anthia, you don’t have to go to any trouble,” he said, having placed the heavy tray on the counter.
“All done.” She smiled, handing him the foil-wrapped treat. As she walked him to the door, she said, “Thanks for coming by. It was good seeing you. It’s been awhile.”
She was tempted to tell him that he didn’t need a reason to visit. She enjoyed his company, but at the last minute decided against it. She did have a little pride.
“You take care of yourself,” he said, one lean brown finger caressing down her cheek ever so gently.
Anthia trembled from the brief contact, but she tried to hide it behind a generous smile. She would not let herself think of a more intimate, deeper caress. There was no point in daydreaming about a man who did not want her.
“You, too. ’Bye.” She waved, refusing to watch him walk to his car parked in the driveway. Quietly closing the door, she let out a thoughtful sigh. It was a ridiculous waste of time to find herself wondering how long it would be before she was lucky enough to see him again.
When Anthia returned to her workroom, she decided to tackle something she had some control of, such as the problem of duplicating a fifty-year-old christening dress for a baby doll. The doll would resemble a treasured old photograph. She had no doubt that it could be done. She had done it too many times to worry about the outcome. Her dolls were as unique as the likeness she painstakingly duplicated.
But her thoughts continued to slip backward. She’d been so young when she met Jeff Johnson. She thought she was deeply in love with him. He was only a few years older than she was and very handsome. He said all the things her young romantic heart had craved to hear. She had never had a boyfriend. At five-one, she considered her hundred and twenty-seven pound frame too short and overweight to be appealing. She looked nothing like the fashion models in the Seventeen magazine she loved. Her hair was unfashionably long and her clothes plain and simple because her mother oversaw everything Anthia made on the sewing machine. She’d been fifteen at the time.
Anthia almost laughed. Jeff was no fool. He sensed her vulnerability. He said the sweet words repeatedly until she could no longer withhold her love from him. She made love with him with all the sweet yearning she possessed, certain that her feelings were returned. Once was enough for him, then he moved on to the next girl. Once was also enough to prove how foolish she had been. By the time she was sixteen, she was disillusioned, brokenhearted and pregnant.
Anthia recalled how difficult it had been to tell her mother. It had been the hardest thing in the world because she knew how much her mother believed in her. Her parents had dreams of their daughter having an easier life, a prosperous life. Her father had been killed by a stray bullet when Anthia was only a toddler, leaving her mother to raise her alone. Her mother, naturally, wanted her to be in a position to have advantages and opportunities that she as a day worker didn’t have. Anthia had been bright and was doing so well in school.
Even today, Anthia could remember her mother’s face when she broke the news to her. She had put off telling for as long as she dared. She was sick every day and she didn’t have the faintest idea how to care for herself.
Yet, as she looked back on it now, she realized that she knew deep inside that her mother would never turn her back on her child. That love and support was what had given Anthia the strength to get through the most difficult time of her young life.
That shattered look on her mother’s sweet brown face brought tears to Anthia’s eyes even now. It was a look of overwhelming hurt and disappointment. It had been painful for them both. That night, mother and daughter had cried together. Yet, there had been no question of Anthia keeping her baby.
Thank goodness, she was not alone. Her mother was there for her and supported her throughout her pregnancy. She had managed to finish school and start college while taking care of her son, only because of her mother’s love and support. Anthia and Jeff had shared a roomy two-bedroom apartment even after her mother died from a stroke. Anthia missed her still.
Unfortunately, the neighborhood had changed drastically over the years. Gang violence and crime were too common. Anthia felt that it was not the place to raise an impressionable boy. Jeff was just starting those vulnerable teenage years and she feared for his future without a father’s guidance.
She and her son moved into a small one-bedroom upper level of a two family flat in a much better low-income neighborhood. It had been crowded to say the least, but they had managed. The sofa bed in the living room became Jeff’s bedroom in the evenings. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the best she could afford. She had to give up her own schooling and work full-time as a legal secretary in order to afford the new place.
The smartest thing she had done after the move was enrolling her son in the Malcolm X Community Center where he was under the influence of strong black men like Dexter and Charles determined to make a difference. And it made a world of difference to both Jeff and Anthia. They had both made endearing lifelong friendships.
It was a shame she no longer possessed the confidence with Dexter that she had when she was first attracted to Charles. She had been so sure of herself... so full of it. Her thoughts flew back to the night she first met Dexter Washington. As she prepared for the evening ahead, her thoughts had centered on one man, Charles Randol. She had been floored by him from the instant Jeff brought him home to meet her.
He was everything she thought she wanted in a man, tall, handsome and extremely wealthy. He headed the family-owned Randol Pharmaceutical. And he had shown a keen interest in her son, a huge plus as far as she was concerned. Suddenly he had become not only her son’s mentor but her black knight. She saw him as the answer to her hopes and dreams for a secure future. It didn’t register that he had shown her nothing more than his friendship.
She had no idea that Charles’ romantic interest and desires were focused on one beautiful woman... a woman from his past. So when he invited both Jeff and herself to attend a charity dinner-dance, a fundraiser sponsored by Charles’ fraternity to raise money for the community center, Anthia had been thrilled, certain that this was her chance to show him how perfect she was for him. She knew she could fit into his influential world.
She was just as pretty as those chic, well-educated women that were so much a part of his life.
She found the perfect dress, took extra care with her hair and nails. She had worked so hard, making sure that their tiny flat was spotless. She chuckled at the memory. She could afford to do so now. That evening had been a disaster. She had made a complete fool of herself. Charles had not come up to their door as she expected but had waited in the car. Her son had let her know he was there and not alone. Her feelings were crushed ... all her fanciful daydreams vanished.
Jeff held the door while she slid into the backseat. When Charles had smiled and introduced his bride, Diane, Anthia wanted to sink beneath the floorboards. If it hadn’t been for Jeff, she would have gotten out of the car and spent the evening nursing her injured pride.
She told herself on the ride downtown that it was a mistake. There had to be some type of mistake. Charles could not actually be married to this drop-dead gorgeous sister. Diane Rivers Randol was everything Anthia was not. She was tall, flawlessly beautiful and was well educated. She had it all.
