Chapter 14
Graeme stroked Barley’s back as he reclined on his lap. The puppy had whined incessantly from the moment Graeme had sat down until he picked him up and settled him down to sleep. It was apparent that Kayana had spoiled his dog.
Instead of sitting on the veranda outside his bedroom, he was on the screened-in porch, which had become his favorite space to greet and end the day. The sight of new saplings, potted ferns, and rows of succulents in the fenced-in, landscaped backyard had become his private oasis.
Not seeing Kayana exacerbated a loneliness Graeme had ignored for far too long, and it could not be assuaged by interacting with Barley or totally immersing himself in his writing. She’d become a wonderful friend, sacrificing her time and energy to care for him and his pet—something she did not have to do. He’d wanted to believe she felt something for him other than friendship, because he wanted more than that from her.
Graeme wanted to be able to call her and ask her to accompany him to out-of-the-way places where they could share a meal without being recognized or interrupted. If and when she spent the night, he didn’t want her sleeping on the convertible love seat, but in his bed. And he wanted to go to bed and wake up with her beside him. He also wanted to make love with her and hold her long after their passions subsided. However, given her unorthodox work schedule, he knew what wouldn’t be possible until after Labor Day.
He had recovered from whatever he’d come down with and had regained his appetite. Kayana had restocked his refrigerator and freezer with fresh dairy and prepared entrées he only had to reheat in the oven or microwave. It had been days since they’d last spoken, and he missed hearing her voice, layered with a slow, sultry drawl he found unforgettable. She’d claimed he talked funny when he’d accused her of the same. Graeme knew he sounded like a New Englander, and a Bostonian, in particular, whenever he said certain words, but it wasn’t as apparent as Kayana’s southern drawl.
“You miss her, don’t you, buddy?” he asked the dog when Barley looked up at him. “I do too. But you have to admit that she took good care of you, even though you’re pretending you’re not spoiled,” Graeme continued with his monologue. “I suspect she let you sleep in the bed with her, but that’s not going to happen with me, Barley. The only other living thing that’s going to share my bed is a woman, not a canine or a feline. And we don’t have to wait much longer before we’re adopted, so you must be certain you behave so we don’t make Kayana regret that we’re going to become a family.” The dog stood up and turned around a couple of times before settling back down to rest his muzzle on his outstretched paws.
Graeme hoped Kayana wasn’t teasing when she’d said, “Maybe I should adopt you both.” Of course, her adopting him and Barley would be a merely symbolic gesture on her part. But the word meant so much more for Graeme. The year he’d celebrated his eighth birthday, his world as he’d known it was turned upside down. The man and woman he’d known as his mother and father were now his adopted parents—two people who’d chosen him when his birth mother made the decision not to raise him but give him away. He’d cried himself to sleep for two weeks before realizing his adopted parents had given him a life most kids could only fantasize about. They loved him unconditionally, and for a young boy, that was more than enough.
Reaching for the cellphone on the cushion beside him, he tapped Kayana’s number. It rang three times before she picked up.
“Please don’t tell me you had a relapse.”
Graeme laughed. “No such luck. If I did, then could I count on you to take care of me again, Florence Nightingale?”
“I don’t think so, sport,” she teased, “because a hard head makes for a soft behind.”
“I promise you I’ve been good. I’m eating and getting enough sleep. I also haven’t ventured outdoors except to sit on the veranda.”
“Good for you.”
“How was your book club meeting?”
“It was awesome. We discussed Pride and Prejudice.”
“I thought you discussed that last week.”
“It was on the agenda, but we got off topic and decided to delay it until today. By the way, do you remember everything I tell you?”
“Yes, because I don’t want you to accuse me of half-listening or ignoring you.”
Kayana’s sultry laugh came through the earpiece. “I’m not that vain, Graeme.”
He smiled. “That’s good to know. What’s your next book club title?”
“Ethan Frome. And the following week it’s another Wharton novel, The Buccaneers.”
“I’m not familiar with The Buccaneers.”
“It’s about five American heiresses who marry cash-poor Englishmen with titles.”
Graeme’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “They’re like Winston Churchill’s mother and one of Princess Diana’s ancestors, who become a part of British royalty because of their fortunes.”
“Do I detect a hint of censure, Graeme?”
“Yes, because these men didn’t love these women, but saw them as a means to an end. They used their money to save their land or pay off their gambling debts. I’ve read accounts where some of their husbands flaunted their mistresses and were unusually cruel to their American wives.”
“Once the women married, they were stuck because they’d traded their fortunes to become a lady, a duchess, or the wife of an earl or marquise. Personally, I don’t think it was worth it just to have a title.”
“I’m certain it’s still happening today,” Graeme said. “Look how many girls were fantasizing about marrying Prince Harry until their hopes were dashed when he married Meghan Markle and she became the Duchess of Sussex.”
Kayana let out a full-throated laugh. “Good for her. She succeeded where so many before her had failed.”
“And she didn’t have to give up the money she’d made acting to secure a title.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, Graeme. Thankfully, things and times have changed. Today people marry whoever the hell they want, and what others may think or believe be damned.”
Graeme knew he was going to ask Kayana a question that might insult her, but he had to know if he was to further pursue her. “Would you be opposed to marrying someone outside your race?”
“No. It’s not what a person looks like, but who they are inside. In other words, it’s about character and not race. Why did you ask? Did you have a mixed-race marriage?”
“No.”
“Have you ever dated a black woman?”
He smiled. “Yes. You.”
There was a pause before Kayana said, “I suppose you can say it was a date when we went to the movies together.”
“Trust me, Kay, it was, even though I don’t believe in kissing on the first date.”
“Neither do I. Because if it doesn’t work out, then I don’t want to give my date the impression that we can do it again.”
“Are we going to do again, Kay?”
“Yes. Did you promise me we’re going to see Les Misérables?”
“I did, and I will. By that time, I know I won’t be contagious, so I’ll be able to kiss you without getting you sick.”
“Hang up, Graeme. I need to go bed and get some sleep before I have to arise with the chickens.”
Throwing back his head, he laughed loudly, startling Barley. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“Who are you talking to?”
“Barley. He’s sleeping on my lap. And you’re going to pay dearly for spoiling my dog to the point that he doesn’t want his paws to hit the floor.”
“Tell Barley Mama’s going to come and see him in a few days. I can’t believe how much I miss him.”
Graeme wanted to tell Kayana that he also missed her. “Good night, my love.”
* * *
Kayana stared at the phone until she heard a beeping sound indicating that the connection had ended. Graeme had hung up before she could react to his calling her his love. She’d found it wasn’t easy analyzing Graeme Ogden, because most times she found him guarded, as if he was attempting to hide something. When she’d first noticed him coming to the restaurant the summer before, he’d basically stayed to himself, waiting for an empty table in lieu of joining others at a table with an empty seat. He’d come in for breakfast and lunch, but never dinner. This year, his routine changed, and he’d occasionally have breakfast and always dinner. He was solitary and reclusive, which had her wondering why he’d come to Coates Island in the first place, and why he’d elected to buy property on the island. Most teachers who summered on the island tended to rent in lieu of purchasing a vacation home. First, there weren’t that many properties that were available for sale, and if someone did buy a house, chances were slim to none that they would not be able to rent it in the off-season. When she’d heard that Graeme had purchased the house and renovated it, Kayana wondered if he’d planned for a retired colleague to live in the house until he returned the following summer.
Despite not knowing much about Graeme, she knew he liked her and wanted more than friendship. What Kayana had to decide was whether she was willing to offer more than that. When she’d heard him on the phone and had hardly recognized his voice, her first reaction was to go to his house and check on him. Unconsciously, she reverted back to the time when she was in her office at the hospital and had to provide therapy or counseling services to a patient or help family members learn to deal with mental illness in the family. She’d trained herself to become attuned to changes in a person’s voice or body language.
When Graeme had answered his phone and she’d asked him if he was all right and he said he thought so, Kayana knew he was not being truthful. She found men to be her worst patients, because they feared that showing weakness meant they weren’t manly. So much for being manly when they were too sick to take care of their most basic needs. Thankfully, she hadn’t had to help Graeme shave or shower because that would have crossed the line to an intimacy she hadn’t been ready for.
Spending time at his house and talking to Graeme had opened the door to his past; he’d felt comfortable enough to talk about his marriage and his estranged wife’s death. Kayana could not imagine how he had lived with a woman for twelve years who definitely needed mental health therapy. He truly must have loved her to have stayed in the marriage, or perhaps it was pity that forced him to stay because he feared she would harm herself.
And when she compared her marriage to Graeme’s and Leah’s, Kayana considered herself fortunate that she had escaped unscathed. This is not to say she was unaffected when she’d discovered her husband had cheated on her with a woman she knew, but she realized she wasn’t the first woman to have an unfaithful husband and definitely wouldn’t be the last. In the end, she realized she loved herself more than she loved James, and she wasn’t willing to look the other way in order to maintain her status as the wife of one of the city’s leading trauma surgeons or forgive him for trampling on her trust. James had asked her to forgive him, but Kayana knew that, with his ego, he would cheat again because his father had cheated on his mother and his brothers on their wives. It was common knowledge in James’s social circle that Hudson men were cheaters, but it wasn’t something she was privy to until it happened to her. Although the phony-ass bougies treated her as if she had leprosy, Kayana knew herself and liked how she was.
She knew James was shocked when, served with divorce papers, he’d pleaded with her to talk it out with a marriage counselor. He did not want the stigma of being the first in his family to divorce, but she was beyond caring about his family’s flawless reputation. However, she did agree to change the charge of adultery to irreconcilable differences, but for a price, considering the pain and suffering he’d put her through for almost twenty years. She would let him have the house and its contents in exchange for a huge settlement.
The house was worth half of what she’d requested, and James had to take out a mortgage on the property and withdraw funds from his 401(k) to make up the balance. She deposited the bank check into the retirement account Derrick had set up for her, notified her attorney she was ready to finalize the divorce, and after shipping her books and personal items to Coates Island, left Atlanta for the last time.
Whenever she thought about Graeme, she did not want to compare him to James, but it was becoming difficult not to, the more time they spent together. James was brilliant, proud, boastful, and at times shameless, while Graeme, although wealthy, was modest, intelligent, and reclusive. She wasn’t certain whether his need to spend time alone had come from his being an only child or resulted from being raised by parents who were older than those of his contemporaries. Then she recalled what he’d discovered in his mother’s diaries, which was certain to have had an impact on what he thought of her. His mother had harbored secrets, and the woman he’d married had secrets of her own. Kayana had talked to him about trust, and she wondered if Graeme also had his own trust issues.
One thing she did not have was secrets. What he saw was what he got. He knew she was divorced and did not have children, had been a social worker in her former life, liked dogs, loved to read, and enjoyed cooking. She refused to divulge family recipes or her net worth, which she did not think of as secrets but just unavailable for public consumption.
Kayana checked her phone to make certain she’d set the alarm. She was counting down the days when she would have two weeks off each month and could sit up half the night reading, then sleep in late the following day. This year, she’d contemplated taking a cruise to the Caribbean or driving to the Florida Keys to sample their cuisine and take in the sights.
* * *
Kayana had just completed her shift, showered, and changed into street clothes when her cellphone rang. Picking it up, she saw the caller’s name. “Good afternoon.”
“Good afternoon to you too. I’m just calling to remind you that today the adoption should be finalized. Can you check on it for me?”
She struggled not to laugh. “Damn, Graeme, you don’t forget anything do you?”
“Not when it concerns me and Barley. I must know if we’re going to be adopted by someone who will love and take good care of us.”
“Well, I have good news,” she said, deciding to play along with him. This teasing, joking Graeme was someone she could get used to. “I got an e-mail earlier today to confirm it is final. I should get the official documents in the mail within the week.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard since Barley came to live with me. This means we’ll have to celebrate in grand style.”
Kayana went completely still. “How grand are you talking about?’
“Dinner and drinks at a restaurant where someone other than you will do the cooking.”
Folding her body down to the padded bench seat at the foot of the bed, she stared at a collection of crystal perfume bottles on a corner table. “When and where?”
“I’ll leave that up to you.”
Kayana closed her eyes for several seconds. In all the years she’d dated and been married to James, he’d never left anything up to her. And to keep peace in the house, she usually went along with him because she didn’t want a repeat of her parents’ increasing hostility toward each other.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been to Carolina Beach, Oak Island, or Wilmington, so I’ll go online and see what I can come up with.”
“Just let me know where you want to go, and I’ll make it happen.”
She smiled. “You may come to regret saying that.”
Graeme chuckled. “I doubt that. I’m coming to the Café for dinner. Would you mind if we eat together?”
Kayana’s smile grew wider. “No, Graeme. I wouldn’t mind. But what if we eat together at your place?”
“Is that what you really want?”
“Yes. We can cook together. What do you feel like eating?”
“Spaghetti and meatballs.”
“That’s easy enough to make.”
“What time should I expect you?”
“Five.”
“I’ll be here.”
“Later.”
“Later, my love.”
Kayana hung up. It was the second time Graeme had referred to her as his love. She wanted to tell him she wasn’t his love, and she didn’t want him to love her because he’d made it possible for her to like him more than she wanted to. There was never a time when they were together that she’d felt uncomfortable with him. She’d lain across his bed with him in it, slept under his roof, albeit he was sick, and was completely relaxed. Perhaps it was because he was the first man she’d gotten close to since her divorce that she was able to be open with without censuring herself.
But a quiet voice in Kayana’s head reminded her that she wasn’t twenty-six or even thirty-six, but a forty-six-year-old divorcée who could date or sleep with whomever she pleased, while her only commitment was to her brother, whom she’d promised to help run the Seaside Café. Pushing to her feet, she walked out of the bedroom and into the library to boot up her laptop. She’d just pulled up the website for several restaurants in Kitty Hawk when her cellphone rang again.
Tapping the screen, she activated the SPEAKER feature. “Hi, Leah.”
“Hey, girl. I’m going online to order your vibrator. How long, and which color do you want?”
Kayana bit her lip to keep from laughing. She did not want to believe Leah was that serious about ordering a sex toy for her. “Forget it, Leah. I really don’t need a vibrator.”
“Are you getting some?”
“No,” she said, laughing, “I’m not getting some.”
“Are you sure, Kayana?”
“Yes.”
“May I ask you a very personal question?”
Kayana wanted to tell Leah she’d already asked her a very personal question when she asked if she was having sexual relations. She’d learned quickly that her book club friends were not reticent and did not hold back from saying what came to mind.
“Yes, you may.”
“You claim you haven’t slept with a man in more than two years. Do you ever get horny? I’m older than you and experiencing the onset of menopause, but there are times when I’m as horny as a mink, and that’s when I use my vibrator a couple of times a day.”
Kayana did not understand Leah. She claimed she hadn’t slept with her husband in years, was aware that he was sleeping with other women, yet she rationalized she didn’t want to or couldn’t divorce him because it would upset their boys. Was she aware that her boys weren’t children but grown men who had gone on with their own lives? Yes, they might be disappointed that their parents were splitting up after so many years, but they would get over it more easily than if they were young children.
“I still feel desire, but if it gets to the point where I’m figuratively climbing the walls, then I’ll do something about it.”
“And what’s that?”
She closed her eyes and groaned inwardly. “I’ll find a man to sleep with.”
“Are you talking about picking up a man?”
“No, Leah. That’s not my style.”
Kayana wanted to remind Leah that she wasn’t so demoralized by her divorce that she was turned off when it came to men. She’d never had a problem with self-esteem, even when married to James or even before when the Hudsons had made known their resentment and hostility when James introduced her to his family as his fiancée. And no matter what they’d said or implied, she refused to succumb to their intimidation. Kayana knew that if she could survive being married to an egotistical man for almost twenty years and emerge unscathed, then she had the confidence to deal with any man.
“There’s something else I’d like to ask you, Kayana.”
“Why do I feel as if I’ve been summoned to your office for some school infraction?” she teased.
Leah’s high-pitched laugh echoed from the speaker. “Not to worry, honey. I summon very few students to my office because I want to keep my position as headmistress. Kids will lie to their parents through their platinum-plated little asses, and yours truly will always come out looking like the villainess, so I ignore most stupid pranks unless one puts another student’s life or safety in jeopardy.”
Kayana knew what Leah was talking about. She knew social workers and psychologists who’d boasted they’d made enough money from helping their wealthy clients grapple with ongoing unresolved issues to pay for their children’s college education without applying for student loans.
“What do you want to know?”
“Do you like men?”
A beat passed as she processed Leah’s question. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Why would you ask me that, Leah?”
“I asked because I’ve seen the way men stare at you at the restaurant, and you look past them as if they don’t exist.”
“That’s because I have a strict rule that I don’t play in my own sandbox.”
“In other words, you don’t shit where you eat,” Leah said.
“Exactly.” She’d told Leah a half-truth because of her involvement with a man who was a customer at the Café.
“I really envy you, Kayana.”
Shaking her head, Kayana did not want to believe what she’d just heard. Why would Leah envy her when she appeared to be content with her life? “Why do you envy me?”
“You can come and go whenever you want and see whatever man you want.”
She bit her lip to keep from screaming at Leah. If she was unhappy with her so-called perfect life, then there was nothing stopping her from walking away. “And you can’t, Leah? You and your husband have separate bedrooms, your sons are living their own lives, and if you lose your position at the school, you can always get another. So why can’t you come and go and see whomever you want?”
“I don’t want my boys . . .”
“Stop it right there, Leah,” Kayana said, cutting her off. “How old do your sons have to be before they’re no longer boys or your babies? They are men, Leah. Grown-ass men, and you have to stop using them as an excuse not to change your life.”
“I think it’s time I hang up. Good-bye.”
Kayana did not want to believe that Leah had hung up on her because she didn’t want to hear or face the truth. Well, she wasn’t the woman’s therapist, didn’t want to be, and for that she was grateful. She’d counseled more women like Leah who had an excuse for everything to ensure they would not take control of their lives.
She forgot about her conversation with Leah as she searched for restaurants where she and Graeme could celebrate what had become a running joke between them. She had symbolically adopted him and his dog, and that would establish a bond for the rest of the summer season.
* * *
Graeme came out of the house and opened the driver’s-side door when Kayana shut off the engine to her SUV. Since moving back to Coates Island, she rarely drove the vehicle, which was a welcome respite from the hour-long—sometimes longer, depending on traffic—daily commute to and from downtown Atlanta.
She smiled up at him when he helped her out, and she had to admit he looked a lot better than he had the last time she’d seen him. His face wasn’t as gaunt, and it was apparent he’d sat in the sun because his former pallor was gone. The most noticeable difference was his longer, gray-flecked, light brown hair. The military cut had grown out, and she realized the texture wasn’t straight, but curly.
Kayana did not want to believe she’d spent several days with Graeme at his house. It was as if she refused to acknowledge things about him she’d found attractive because she still wasn’t ready to admit to herself that she was a normal woman with physical needs that only a man could satisfy. And despite admitting to Leah and Cherie that she at one time had resorted to using a sex toy, it wasn’t something she wanted or needed as a substitute for foreplay and intercourse.
Unlike Mariah, she did not have a particular type when it came to a man. She’d gone out with men from different races and ethnic groups and had slept with one or two. But for Kayana, it was always about how she’d related to them and in turn how they’d treated her. However, she did have standards for behavior. She refused to date men who smoked, drank too much, or dabbled in illegal drugs. She’d had a hard-and-fast rule not to sleep with a man until they’d gone out for at least two months, because it would give her time to assess whether they would remain friends or take their relationship to the next level.
“You’re looking well.”
He smiled, and fine lines fanned out around his eyes. “Thanks to you, I feel wonderful.”
She patted his arm. “All you needed was over-the-counter medication, chicken soup, and lots of rest.”
Graeme looked at her under lowered lids. “I’ll remember that the next time I run myself into the ground.”
Kayana reached behind the driver’s seat to pick up a large canvas tote. “What were you doing so you were that run-down?”
“Writing.”
She handed Graeme the tote. “Books don’t become best-sellers because the author writes nonstop until they exhaust their creativity. Why don’t you complete a draft, and then go back and revise it?”
“What if I don’t want to revise it?”
“Well, I don’t have an answer for that. But at least you know what to expect if you decide to embark on another writing marathon.”
Resting his hand at the small of her back, Graeme directed her to the door, where Barley stood, his tail wagging like a metronome. “Can I count on you to take care of me if I get sick again?”
Kayana slowly shook her head. “No. If you’re intent on ruining your health, then don’t look for me to take care of you.”
“I thought we were family.”
She patted Barley’s head when he sniffed her leg. “We are not family, Graeme Ogden.”
“What happened to you adopting me and Barley?”
Kayana stopped suddenly, causing Graeme to bump into her, and she would’ve lost her balance if he hadn’t caught her upper arm to steady her. “You have to know I was just joking.”
Steely gray eyes met a dark brown pair. “Really?”
She blinked once. “Yes, really. We’re not a couple of kids playing jokes on each other. And you have to know that adoptions are a legal procedure that have to be finalized with a court proceeding.”
* * *
Graeme continued to stare at Kayana, wondering if she was aware of how much he had come to depend on her, if only to remind him that he could perhaps have a normal relationship with a woman for the first time in his adult life. She made him smile—something he rarely did. And she made him laugh—something he hadn’t done in a long time. There was something about her that was so natural and refreshing that he was allowed to be himself.
And he admired her maturity and independence. She wasn’t needy and constantly seeking attention and/or compliments. He also had told her things about himself and his past that he hadn’t revealed to anyone except his therapist. He’d trusted her just that much. There were other things he wanted to tell her, but he wanted to wait until he was certain he could share a future with her.
It had been four days since they had been together, and during that time Graeme had gone through mental and emotional calisthenics when he thought about Kayana. He’d carried on so many lengthy monologues with Barley that the dog had begun hiding under a chair on the porch as if to escape the sound of his voice. Their separation had allowed him to assess his life and what he wanted to do.
Graeme considered himself blessed that he’d been adopted by two people who’d not only wanted him, but also had loved him and given him a life most kids would fantasize about. They’d passed away within months of each other, his mother purportedly dying of a broken heart after his father lost his battle with colon cancer. At the age of twenty-six, and as their sole heir, he had become a wealthy young man.
Graeme had given up teaching after a twenty-year stint to concentrate on a second career as a fiction writer and had bought a house on an island off the coast of North Carolina to use as a vacation retreat, but he could not have anticipated falling in love with a woman whose presence afforded him the inner peace that had always eluded him. Talking to Kayana had allowed him to see his life differently. And when she’d said, “You have to let it go, Graeme, and go on living,” he’d repeated that statement to himself until her words had become a permanent tattoo on his brain. He had let go and was looking forward to going on living—with her.
“What if we make it real?” Graeme knew he’d shocked Kayana when her jaw dropped. Seeing her indecision, he decided to press his point. “You have to know how I feel about you. And you know how I feel about playing head games.”
Kayana recovered enough to ask, “What exactly do you want?”
“I want you to come and live with me. I promise not to put any pressure on you to sleep with me.”
“Sleep with you or have sex with you?”
He flashed a sheepish smile. “Perhaps I should’ve said make love with each other.”
“Do you actually believe we can share a bed and not make love?”
“Yes.”
She gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him. “Do you have ED?”
Graeme successfully curbed the urge to laugh in her face. “Not yet.” A frown creased his forehead when she laughed until her eyes filled with tears.
“Do you actually expect me to share a bed with you and not ask you to make love to me whenever you wake up with a hard-on.”
His eyebrows shot up. “So you’re not opposed to letting me make love to you?”
Kayana gave him a smile he’d witnessed mothers giving his students when they attempted to placate them. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I need to see you a lot more often before I decide on anything. And if we run out of time before you leave to go back to Massachusetts, then we can always continue this next summer.”
Graeme opened his mouth to tell Kayana that he did not plan to leave at the end of the summer but changed his mind. He had time to prove to her that they could have a mature, ongoing relationship without the angst both had experienced with their exes.
He lowered his head and brushed a light kiss over her parted lips. “That sounds like a plan.”