CHAPTER THREE

 

The music was extremely good and Erica found herself rocking to more than one song and getting as excited as the rest of the crowd. The church was now packed to capacity and though there was a late start, they were having a good time. Phoebe whispered to Erica non-stop about who was good-looking, who was not, who looked like marriage material, and who was perennially single. Phoebe was a treasure trove of banal, shallow conversation and despite the lovely program Erica felt like shaking her.

"Oh my," Phoebe whispered in her ear once again.

Erica stiffened. She was just about to tell Phoebe to shut up once and for all. Not even her five and seven year old niece and nephew were so fidgety and talked so incessantly. It was like being out with a restless hormone driven teenager.

"What?" Erica snapped at Phoebe.

"Look in the bench behind you, nine o'clock," Phoebe whispered fiercely. "Tell me, isn’t he fine? He looks like Boris Kodjoe with that clean-shaven head and neat moustache. Isn’t he gorgeous?"

Erica sighed. She would give this so-called handsome specimen a look, then she would tell off Phoebe—this was getting ridiculous.

She glanced around quickly, then, had to swing her head around again. He was handsome: full lips, straight nose. She could bet his eyelashes were long when seen close up. He had on a black shirt and blue jeans pants and his legs looked like they were long. He also had a worried furrow between his eyes and he was looking on at the proceedings as if his mind was not quite on it.

"Didn’t I tell you?" Phoebe was whispering fiercely in Erica's ear. "And to think, all this time he was sitting close to us…and look, no ring on any of his fingers. Indeed God is good."

Erica swung around to look at him again and he looked at her at the same time. She was caught red handed. She felt herself getting warm under the scarf she had around her neck, like a naughty child being caught with her hand in a cookie jar.

He didn’t smile at her or anything; he just stared with almost no expression on his handsome face. Another group was about to start singing and he didn’t look on the stage, neither did she. It was now a competition to see who would win in the stare down.

Erica refused to look away first so she inspected him quietly. His eyes looked weary and tired and there was a slight slump to his shoulders. He endured her scrutiny and then raised an eyebrow.

Erica raised back her eyebrow.

He sighed and then broke the eye contact almost sullenly crossing his arms and leaning back on the bench; once again staring ahead.

"What was that about?" Phoebe whispered frantically. "He wasn’t even looking at me. He was looking at you."

"It was war," Erica, said, smiling. "I think I like him."

"Oh, no you don’t," Phoebe said. "I saw him first."

Erica grinned. "He looks mysterious, kind of dangerous, don’t you think?"

Phoebe cleared her throat. "Well, he does look a bit rough around the edges, like he drives an ordinary car. We will have to check out his car. The car is the deal breaker for me. If he drives a nice car you can't have him, he's mine."

Erica shrugged. "Go easy Miss Piggy. We are not in a school yard fighting over dolls."

"Don’t call me Miss Piggy," Phoebe snorted. "I am slim and beautifully shaped."

Erica chuckled. "Was referring to your attitude."

The whole place erupted in applause and Phoebe's stinging retort was drowned out. Erica subsided in her chair.

 

*******

 

It was an entertaining program. The male chorale gave some outstanding renditions and the other acts that supported them also did well. The congregation was asked to sit and wait to be ushered out. Because they were seated in the second to last row, they were among the last persons to be ushered out of the church.

Erica glanced at her watch; it was a quarter to ten. She looked around for him, she had been challenging herself throughout the program to not sneak a look at him again and she had succeeded. She allowed Phoebe to drag her into the parking lot, all the while looking around for him.

"I wonder if he is parked outside." Phoebe was craning her neck over the mass of people that had gathered on the outside.

"You were serious about the car thing?" Erica asked incredulously.

"Of course," Phoebe said, "I have to determine a man's material worth before I can even think of talking to him."

"But that's…that's…" Erica stammered. She grabbed Phoebe's arms. "That's wrong and unchristian."

"You can say what you want," Phoebe said with a frown, "but I did not grow up with rich parents or the privileged life, you did. I grew up rough, so I know that poverty is not easy, it smells bad and it looks awful—it's a prison I long to escape from."

Erica shook her head in exasperation.

"Oh there he is," Phoebe said excitedly and headed toward the guy who was leaning against the side of the church hall with both hands in his pocket. He was tall, Erica thought ruefully and he was indolently looking out at the crowd. His eyes lit up with recognition when he saw them.

Erica followed reluctantly. She was sure that when they had that stare down he had been looking at her with a cynical twist to his lips. This guy was no push over and the beautiful Phoebe was going to be in for a bluff. She could already see the sneer in his eyes.

"Goodnight," Phoebe said to him brightly.

He looked at Phoebe seriously and then responded, "Goodnight."

He didn't shift from his stance and looked at both of them expectantly, as if he was on the verge of being entertained.

Erica's hackles began to rise. Who does he think he is? Did he think that he was the king and she and Phoebe were the court jesters?

"Let's go, Phoebe," Erica said roughly. She was strangely attracted to this man, even though he had that haughty attitude.

"No," Phoebe said defiantly to Erica.

"Where's your car?" Phoebe asked Caleb.

He looked at Phoebe, a smirk across his lips. "I don’t drive; don’t have a job or any source of income."

Phoebe gasped, "I didn’t ask you any of that."

He gave a nasty laugh and sauntered off.

"He is rude and crude," Phoebe was sputtering, a look of horror across her face. "Did I ask him anything about money or a job?"

Erica was struggling hard not to laugh but the laughter erupted from her lips, and she had to lean on the wall where he had been standing. She laughed so hard that she had to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

"Pheebs," Erica was almost wheezing, "what about, what's your name? Is this your church? Where do you live? You know, questions to show that you are interested in him."

"I have never really had to approach a guy before," Phoebe pouted. "They are usually the ones asking the questions."

"Initially," Erica straightened up from the wall, "after that they all flee from you like they have encountered something evil." She giggled again. "Let's go, the parking lot is getting empty enough for me to back out of our parking space."

Erica walked off with a sullen Phoebe traipsing behind her.

They drove out of the churchyard and turned up the road slowly. There were several vehicles in front of theirs and the road was still wet from the rain earlier.

Erica turned on the car radio and hummed along to a song.

"I am going to work tomorrow at ten, so I can sleep in late," she peered through the windshield, "then be back home at four. Being a hotel nurse is perfect for me right now. The hospital job was extremely stressful and I couldn't bare seeing Jay every day."

Phoebe shuffled in her seat. "I hate being a bank teller. I have to smile at ugly people all day."

Erica rolled her eyes. "I was sure that you couldn’t be more shallow. You just proved me wrong."

"Whatever!" Phoebe kissed her teeth, then she sat up straighter. "There he is, that creature who just insulted me."

Erica looked through the window and saw him walking towards the sign that said Great Pond. He had his head down.

"Why on earth would he be walking on this stretch of road now? From here to Three Rivers is only sea on that side and uninhabited hills on the other. The community is down the road."

"Serves him right," Phoebe snickered, "doesn’t even have a bicycle."

Erica pulled over beside his forlorn figure. Caleb looked up and saw that it was her and stopped. He had a lost look on his face and Erica's heart melted. Something was going on with him. She could sense his desperation from where she was.

"Before I offer you a ride, I need to know your name," Erica said winding down the car window further.

He grinned; she could see his white teeth in the semi-darkness.

"My name is Caleb Wright," he paused, "before I get in your car I need to know yours."

Erica was still recovering from the honeyed tones of his voice. She almost didn't hear him. "Oh, I am Erica Thomas and this is Phoebe Bridge."

He nodded and she released the central lock.

"He could be anyone," Phoebe was murmuring. "Haven’t you been keeping up with the news?"

He came in, sat in the car, and sighed. "I have no idea where I am going, my grand Aunt Reba lives in a place called Three Rivers and I was kind of left here by the bus."

Phoebe frowned looking around at him. "Reba Brownwell was your relative?"

He nodded.

"Well, well, well," she pursed her lips. "Did you know that it was the church that had to bury her? Not one of her family members came to the funeral."

Erica drove out into the road. "So are you going to her house?"

"Yes," he said. "This is providential that you know where she lives because I was just gearing up to walk to the town and maybe sit out the night somewhere."

"I think so too," Erica said, "because Miss Reba's place is about half an hour from here up in the hills. She definitely does not live on the main; she is way off the beaten path."

"And has a fabulous view," Phoebe said, warming up to Caleb slightly. "If only Miss Reba had built a good sized house to take advantage of the view. So, where are you coming from?" Phoebe asked Caleb. "You don’t have any bags and you don’t know where Miss Reba lives. Are you a deportee? Kicked out of some foreign country for crimes committed? Or were you hibernating in some mental hospital somewhere?"

Erica sighed. "Pheebs…"

Phoebe ignored Erica and looked around to the back seat. "So which is it?"

Caleb clenched his jaw, the feeling of joy that he had felt when Erica had pulled up dissipated like mist in hot sun. Phoebe reminded him of one of those unfeeling lawyers that had represented the prosecution in court. They had questioned him with the same rapid-fire questions and had the same evil glint in their eyes.

He cleared his throat. "I am coming from Kingston." He chose his words carefully. "I heard quite recently that Aunt Reba had passed and named me in her will as the sole beneficiary to her property. As you can tell, my family is not close, so the information reached me belatedly. I came as soon as I could."

"Mmm," Phoebe subsided in her chair, and the car was quiet for a while. Erica was concentrating on driving and Caleb was relieved that the grilling had stopped.

"So how much land did she leave for you?" Phoebe piped up again, "are you going into farming or what?"

"I am not sure yet." Caleb became tense once more.

"How old are you anyway?" Phoebe asked him.

Erica giggled. "You don’t have to answer, Caleb."

"It's okay," Caleb sighed. It wouldn't matter if he told her anyway. His age was the one thing he could easily tell anybody who asked. "I am Thirty-Five."

"Oh," Phoebe settled back down. "You are just as old as Erica."

Erica snorted. "Thirty-five is not that old."

She turned onto the road that led to Miss Reba's house and steadily drove up the hill. The road was not as bad as she had feared but it was not good either. They bumped and skidded to a stop in front of a washed out blue house that was a mixture of board and concrete.

"It's dark," Erica turned to Caleb, "no electricity, no running water. Will you be fine here tonight?"

"Oh yes," Caleb came out of the car and stretched. "It will be my castle, the first real place to call home in years. It seems luxurious to me."

He looked at Erica seriously. "Thank you very much for the lift. I have no idea what I would do if you hadn’t come along."

"Don’t worry about it," Erica said smiling. "The Lord always provides. By the way, since you are this close to Three Rivers Church you can stop by sometime."

"Yes, I will. Thank you again." He turned and walked up the overgrown yard.

Erica reversed the car and drove off.