Lovers and Reprisals (Lovers Series) (30 page)

Mikita flashed a strained smile.

"Momma." 

She spoke in a manner that expressed a duel meaning.  She didn’t mind that Morpheus had been forgiven; even after the way that he treated her.  But she’d wanted to spend this time alone with her mother.  When they were standing toe to toe, her mother’s mouth curled into a smile, while she admired the woman that Mikita had become.  They hugged, and she could feel ribs protruding beneath her mother’s dress.  She began to imagine this visit in expanses of time.  The idea of losing her mother was more than she could bear, so she bit her lower lip, to focus on physical pain, and not the tears that were there but she didn’t allow to flow.

In her island accent, her mother said...

"So--my darling girl, are you hungry?”

She wasn’t, but you never say that you aren’t hungry in her mother’s presence.  Mikita pulled back, then she stared into her mom’s brown eyes.  She would cherish these moments because these would be their last.  She lied, when she said...

“I’m starving”

The women stepped apart, then Ernestine said...

“Dinner will be ready soon.”  She wiped her face, and it wasn’t until then that she’d noticed that her mother had been crying.  She’d been so immersed in her own anguish, she hadn’t consider how difficult this time must be for her mom.

Ernestine said...

“I need to freshen up a bit, so don’t you worry about me.  You two stay out here on the porch.  Look at the sea and the moon--enjoy the atmosphere.”

Mikita said...

“Mom...isn’t there something that I can do to help with dinner?”

“No, no child.  You don’t need to worry about that.  I just need a little time to myself.  But I'm sure there are matters that you and my grandson’s father need to discuss."

With that said, Ernestine ambled across the porch, disappearing inside of the house. 

When they were alone, Morpheus said....

"Are you staying here with your mom or are you staying at your house?"

She still didn't know how to register his presence.  While driving here, she had not prepared herself to see Morpheus standing on her mother’s deck.  

She considered him and his crisply creased expensive outfit.  Where was she staying, indeed; this was her thought when she finally answered him.

"I've prearranged for my home to be put in a readiness but after seeing momma...."

She didn’t have to say the rest because he’d been surprised as well.  Four months ago, Ernestine had been diagnosed with an aggressive form of pancreatic cancer; one of the worse cancer’s with an unbelievable mortality rate.  His only surprise was that Mikita had not shared this knowledge with him and he didn’t know why.  They were quiet, and his face took on a stony expression and she couldn’t rightly call his mood

She said...

“Where are you staying?”

He looked out at the beach when he said...

“When I arrived, Ernestine told me that you were coming and that I could use one of her spare bedrooms.”

“Did you accept her offer?”

He wondered what would annoy her more; if he stayed under the same roof as her, or that he’d told her mother that he was trying to win her back. 

Morpheus pointed to a porch swing, gesturing for her to join him there.  She paused for a moment, but she saw no reason to reject his suggestion.  They sat, and he started a slow rhythmic sway.  As he did this, she questioned if she could ever sell her childhood home.

Morpheus said...

“I told your mother that perhaps I should wait until you arrived before I say anything.  Actually, when I phoned to talk to her, she’d downplayed her health issues.  She didn’t tell me the extent of her illness and when I arrived, I was shocked to see her in her current state.  Mikita--you should have told me.”

She lowered her eyes, because she couldn’t bear the weight of his disappointment, and in her shame, she couldn’t stop the flow of tears.  She tried to stay in control, but with each passing second, she could feel herself being sucked away, like sand being forced out to sea by the tide.  She couldn’t hide her grief. 

Morpheus wrapped his arms around her shoulder, and he drew her close to his side.  She sniffled when she said...

“I have to be strong for her.  I can’t let her see me crying.”

“It’s all right you know.  Ernestine expects you to cry.  You don’t have to pretend with her.  She’s your mother and she wants to take care of you.”

“But I’m here to take care of her.”
“You will take care of her--but in the mean time, allow your mom to be the mother.  Don’t take that away from her.  Give her what she needs now.  Let her take care of you for a change.”

She understood, but she didn’t know if she could pull it off.  Morpheus said...

“Mikita--tell me what you want me to do.  I’ll stay here to be with you, or I can go.”

He should go.  That was her first thought, then when the door to the house swung open, she wiped her face like a crazed two year old, who didn’t have a handkerchief. 

Mikita jumped off the swing, like a soldier coming to attention.  Her mother smiled, and she rightly assumed what had occurred before she’d interrupted them.

“You can come to dinner now.”

She didn’t give them any other options.  Ernestine walked back inside of the house, and before they reached the door, Mikita grabbed his arm, turning him to face her. 

She said...

“I didn’t tell you because I felt that momma needed me.  Just me and nobody else.”

He nodded, then he said...

“But what about you?  What do you need?”

She lifted her chin, and his strength eclipsed every reservation.  She didn’t try to restrain her behavior because it would have been a hollow effort.  Morpheus would always be the only man that she loved and it didn’t surprise her when she chucked all reason to the wind.

“Tell me the truth Morpheus.  What happened between you and Cindy.  Did she have a miscarriage, or did something else happen?  I only ask because...”

She couldn’t finish her sentence because saying the obvious was to frightening.  There were two sides to Morpheus; the business man, and another man with a proclivity that leaned towards unscrupulous activities.  He could be kind and ruthless all in the same breath, but before they moved forward she resolved that their couldn’t be any hidden secrets between them. 

Morpheus spoke low when he said...

“Cindy was a mistake--and I think she knew this.” 

He took a breath and she had to strain to hear him, because he was speaking even lower than before.

“I can’t say how, why or when it happened; I only know that Cindy lost the baby.  I got word through a mutual acquaintance and I chose not to ask questions because nothing could be gained and the baby was already dead.”

He appeared genuinely grieved and she hadn’t intended to make him suffer while reliving the memory.  She clasped their hands, then she squeezed his fingers when she said...

“Stay.”

And that was that.  He w
rapped his strong arms around her waist, and he knew that he would stay on the island as long as Mikita wanted and needed him.  Morpheus pushed his other worries aside.  His thoughts concerning Tollin and Joplin weren’t going anywhere, and he would deal with those concerns when the time was right.  For now, he would pledge himself to Mikita--the woman that he loved.   The woman who possessed his heart.

**********

Chapter 15

Let’s take a chance

Ona wandered down a busy block, scanning the area for members belonging to her Sect.  She was in the city on a weekend, without a purpose that would explain this excursion.  Samaritans lived in self-contained communities and there really wasn’t a need to leave, unless the reason concerned their community project.  Her vigilance had been so intense because her program wasn’t open on the weekends.  She neared the corner where Lucien had suggested she wait, she could see a black car with tinted windows.  She hurried her pace, not wanting to remain out in the open one-second longer than was necessary.  When she’d contrived this idea, her thoughts had been sketchy and she had not outlined every detail.  Most of her life, she lived in the moment, and this way of living was a byproduct of a lifetime spent helping others, and rarely considering her needs.  Regardless of how this journey came about, when she’d agreed to come, her acceptance had not come easy.  Lucien had insisted that she be picked up at the docks, because the idea was logical and he couldn’t stomach the idea of her walking.  Ona had outright refused him, because she’d endured a few questions from members belonging to her Sect.  They had watched her exiting the long black limo, yet due to the tinted windows, they didn’t know that Lucien had rode there with her.  Thanks to the darkened windows, the questions were simple inquires concerning the vehicle.  Everyone in her commune had some knowledge about her accident, and most knew about her recovery but there were a few who didn’t know as much as most.  Thankfully, the questions came from the latter.  When they asked if the car had been provided by a program benefactor, due to her injuries; Ona nodded because their assumptions were partly true, and answering in the affirmative didn’t spark any further inquiries.

She was within a few steps of the vehicle when a man stepped out on the drivers side.  She recognized him as the man who’d driven Lucien on the day that he’d rode with her to the docks.

He opened the passenger side door on the curbside, then he said...

“Good morning Miss Zelle.”

She didn’t know his name, and in her nervous state, she didn’t think to ask.  For a second, she stared at the car, perplexed.  Indecision flooded her face and reality hit her.  This would be her last chance to change her mind .  If she was turning back, she would have to do it now; but she hadn’t come this far to cower at the last minute.  Ona slipped across the backseat, and before the door closed behind her, she hurriedly said...

“Good morning--and thank you.”

Ona had daydreamed during the entire ride, and she didn’t keep track of the time.  During one moment she’d been sliding across the seat, entering the car, then in the next, the vehicle had stopped and her side door was being opened.  The driver offered her his hand, and she trembled when she touched him.  It wasn’t his presence or his offer that unsettled her.  It was this experience, because everything about it was a first for her and she was pleased with herself for expressly telling Lucien that only the driver could pick her up.  She believed that if she were caught; she could explain away a driver, but she couldn’t make an excuse for Lucien.

When she stood on the curb, a doorman stepped outside of the building, and he held the door open.  He recognized Lucien’s driver and he made the connection. 

He smiled while saying...

“This way Miss.  Mr. Delors is expecting you.”

Before she stepped inside, a woman passed her carrying a clutch sized dog in her arms.  The tiny canine was wearing a teal outfit that matched its owner’s.  When the woman walked by, in her wake, Ona’s nose was bathed with her scent.  The combination of oils and floral concoctions was a mix of spring and summer gardens.  She stalled for a moment, and she considered herself, from head to toe.  She didn’t wear makeup, perfume and she didn’t own anything that was remotely green.  She didn’t own high heel shoes, or sneakers but she did own two pair of black loafers.  After seeing that woman coming out of Lucien’s pricy apartment building, Ona felt a rush of uncertainty.  She had dressed in her best black knee length dress, and she’d brushed her hair until it shined like ravens feathers.  She had tied up her hair using a black ribbon, and before leaving her home, not once did she consider her outer appearance.  She supposed that now, it was this apprehension that had rooted her on the sidewalk.  She probably would have remained there forever had it not been for Lucien’s driver.  He was a middle-aged man with a kind face.  He stood off to her side, saying...

“You know him--and he’s one of the good ones.”

She didn’t fully understand but she did agree that she knew him and that had to count for something.  She nodded when she said...

“Thank you.”

“Sure bet.”  he said, and he watched her until she reached the rear wall to wait in front of a bank of elevators.  When the doors opened, and she stepped inside, he fished his phone out of his pant pocket.  He sent a quick text message to Lucien and it said “No problems but she appears nervous”

Lucien placed his phone on a side table positioned against a wall.  He owned two apartments in the city, and this one was the closest to the Samaritan dock.  He couldn’t believe his nervousness and he’d stood in his closet trying to find something to wear.  He’d settled on a cream white Deo Verities tailored shirt, and a pair of charcoal grey Armani pants.  Out of habit, he wore one of his favorite watches; the black diamond Vues.  He felt the weight of his timepiece when he reached for the knob to open the front door.  He crossed through the threshold, leading to a private vestibule for the elevator.  The doorman had entered a code, that would cause the elevator to stop, then open once it had reached Lucien’s private lobby.  He heard a series of chiming bells, and when the ringing stopped, the doors to the lift spread open.