A Younger Man (Mount Faith Series: Book 7) (12 page)

She almost stopped at the Optimist Club to get herself a teddy bear. He had a heart in the center of his belly, and he looked so adorable, but she had vowed that she wouldn't do that today.

She hated the day anyway. She had heard that it was a day rooted in paganism, and she was an upstanding Christian girl. As a matter of fact, she really thought the school should take a stance on banning the practice of celebrating Valentine’s Day. The whole thing was ridiculous.

She headed into the president's building so burdened that it wasn't until she actually sat in her chair that she saw the bouquet of red roses on her desktop. There were a dozen of them, and they were in a clay vase.

Her heart skipped a beat, undermining her earlier hatred of Valentine’s Day.

She gingerly took up the card and red the note. Maybe it wasn't for her. Maybe it was for her boss.

"To: Davia."

She laughed in relief. She didn't care who sent it. She didn't even take the time out to read the note. It meant so much to her that she felt weak pathetic tears gathering at the corner of her eyes. She had never gotten flowers before, not even when she had been in the hospital to remove her appendix.

She read the note further, after swinging in her chair with glee: "
Hoping you have a great day today. Vanley."

Vanley! Davia sunk back in her chair. What could this mean? Had he finally come to his senses about Anita? Did he like her now, or was this just a pity gift?

She found that she didn't mind the motive; she was just happy for the gift. She would carry it in her hand when she took the taxi home today. She'd sit in the front, hold up her bouquet of gorgeous flowers, and allow people to admire it. She swiveled in her chair again with a satisfied smile on her face.

"Davia," Anita stepped into the office catching her in mid-swivel.

"Yes." Davia sat up in her seat. "I finished the meeting minutes for you, as you requested."

Anita looked at her and then at the flowers. "Those are lovely."

"Thank you," Davia smiled. "Vanley sent them. I have never gotten flowers before; come to think of it, I have never gotten a Valentine’s gift before."

She handed Anita the file and watched as she gritted her teeth. Anita looked through the file and then glanced at the flowers again. "That's nice.

Well, I will be in my office. I have a presentation tomorrow that I have to practice for. Hold my calls, will you."

"Yes." Davia nodded and watched as she walked toward her office and closed the door. Anita Parkinson wasn't indifferent to Vanley Bancroft; she now knew that for sure. It made her ponder what was the big secret that was keeping Anita and Vanley apart. It must be huge.

She looked at the flowers again, her heart melting; she wanted Vanley to really love her. Whatever the secret was, she really hoped it kept them apart.
I am the perfect person for Vanley, not Anita,
she told herself.

*****

Anita Parkinson stared at the first page of the PowerPoint presentation. For the life of her, she couldn't remember the various letters after her name. Eventually, she typed in "PhD" then put her head in her hands. She couldn't even lie to herself that she felt normal.

So, what if Davia had gotten a gift of flowers from Vanley? He was free to see whomever he wanted. She hardened her heart from the pain and tried to move past it.

Her presentation tomorrow was extremely important, but her mind wouldn't settle. She closed her eyes and imagined that she was twenty-one, like Davia, and working as a secretary and getting flowers from Vanley. She would give anything to be in the outer office and in Davia's uncomplicated shoes right now. She would happily exchange lives. Her PhD and her job didn't mean squat to her now.

Oh, the irony
, she chuckled to herself. She had the education and everything she wanted materially; she had a good job, a few genuine friends, and Chudney. She had loads of blessings, but she didn't have Vanley. Suddenly the count on the blessings side of her list seemed far less than that of the curses side.

She was really dealt a ridiculous hand in her life. Usually when she got this down, she'd drummed up some enthusiasm in her mind. Things could have been worst, but at least she was still alive. A little voice said, "
Embrace life.
"

The voice sounded like her mother's, and she wondered, fuzzily, how her parents were doing. They hadn't spoken for close to eighteen years. She was not what they wanted her to be: she was what she had to be to survive. She suddenly felt bereft.

She opened her eyes and looked at her monitor.

Davia’s flowers had sent her into a self-pity induced fog. She really needed this presentation to be a distraction. She couldn't blame Vanley for moving on; she had nothing to offer him. She just wished he hadn't moved on.

She had a dog in the manger attitude, though she should know better. She started typing again, this time remembering the letters for her other credentials, the ones she had fought blood, sweat and tears to get at a time when she hadn't been sure who she was. She typed them and felt calmer; it was a brittle type of calm though. She still felt uneasy.

Chapter Ten

Vanley put on his jogging shoes and jammed his iPod earbuds into his ears. It was five-thirty in the morning. He hadn't slept the night before. He had tossed and turned and tortured himself over the fact that Valentine’s Day was a day of love and he hadn't gotten the chance to say I love you to the woman whom he really wanted to say it to.

Instead, yesterday he spent almost an hour on the phone with a grateful Davia as she went on about how excited and thankful she was that he sent her flowers. He hadn't thought that it was going to be such a big deal. He should send her flowers occasionally. He wondered if Anita had seen the gift and if she was jealous. He was dying to know, but he really couldn't ask Davia, could he?

He walked briskly to the end of the cul-de-sac where he lived, which was midway between Bramble and Mount Faith, and decided to jog up the hill to the school. If he was lucky he would see his uncle and once more beg him to tell him Anita's secret. He couldn't move on with his life until he found out what Anita was hiding from him. It was no use for him to try; it was like a barrier between him and Anita and the rest of his life.

When he reached the school, he jogged to the gym. He knew his uncle played squash there some mornings. Bancroft was alone in Squash Room One, warming up.

"Morning," Vanley said when he came close enough to his uncle.

He did not respond, and Vanley realized that he had earbuds in.

He went over and touched him on his shoulder; Bancroft looked at him enquiringly.

"Vanley!" his uncle smiled. "Grab a racket, and let's play. You know, since Taj got married, he only comes around once a week. I am going to have to wait until he is an old married man like me to get him to play with me again."

Vanley looked around for a racket and grabbed the first one he saw. He was feeling tired and not really up for a game, but he figured that this would be the best place to soften up Bancroft.

The game went on for an hour, and when Vanley was finished, he was panting so hard that he felt as if his heart was going to race out of his chest. He sat down on one of the spectator benches; all his muscles were on fire.

"That was lethal," he panted.

Bancroft grinned. "It wasn't that bad. Thanks for the game."

Bancroft sat near to him, but he didn't look nearly as winded as Vanley felt. He wasn't even breathing hard.

Vanley swiped some sweat that was rolling into his eyes and looked at his uncle. "Tell me Anita's secret."

Bancroft stopped wiping his face and chuckled. "Three months with Davia up yet?"

Vanley wheezed. "You know it's not. This is crazy; you know that."

"No, not really," Bancroft said, throwing the towel around his neck. He pointed to his bag. "There is another towel."

Vanley reluctantly got up for it. He wiped his face and looked at his uncle again, who had leaned on the wall, his eyes closed.

"I will tell you Anita's secret I swear. Just give Davia a chance."

Vanley sat down. His breathing was coming back to normal. "Tell me, Uncle, what could be that bad. I mean, you, her friend Carol, Anita herself. I don't get it. I am really getting frustrated with this."

Bancroft opened his eyes wide. "You met Carol?"

"Yes," Vanley nodded. Is there something significant about that?"

Bancroft shrugged. "She is a part of the secret."

Vanley snorted. "Look, I don't care what the secret is; just tell me already."

Bancroft closed his eyes again. "How many weeks do you have left with Davia?"

"Six," Vanley said wanly. "Six whole weeks. If I knew what the secret was, I would still date Davia for the six weeks. Just tell me."

Bancroft shook his head. "It wouldn't be the same, trust me. After hearing that secret you might become undone—unglued. In six weeks, I'll tell you everything I know. You know it took me three months of dating Celeste to know that she was the one. I married her the fourth month."

"Uncle Ryan," Vanley sighed, "I am not you."

"I know," Bancroft sipped his water slowly, "but three months away from the obsession with Anita should straighten you out somewhat."

Vanley got up. His knees actually felt fatigued. Running up hill and a hellish game of squash had done him in.

"Going home," he said sourly. Bancroft got up and patted him on the back. "One day you'll see I was wise in helping you like this."

Vanley grunted. "You are meddlesome, that's what you are. Six weeks can't come soon enough for me."

*****

On his way home, Vanley pushed his hand in his pocket and slowly walked down the hill. A car drew up near him when he was about quarter of the way down. His sister, Arnella, was the grinning driver.

"Get in," she said. "I was coming to look for you."

Vanley got in the car. "I unwisely went to play squash with Uncle Ryan this morning."

Arnella laughed. "So what's up?"

Vanley flexed one muscled shoulder. "Nothing much. What's up with you?"

Arnella looked at him sideways. "You sound like me when I am in a funk."

"Seriously," Vanley ignored her attempts to find out what was wrong with him, "how is it going? School? Alric?"

"Alric is doing rounds at the Medical Center. He barely has time to scratch his head." Arnella laughed. "We spent a couple minutes on Valentine’s Day at the back of the hospital in a little lawn area. I carried food from the cafeteria and we lit a candle. It was the most romantic time ever."

Vanley smiled. "Sounds good…treasure those moments."

"Yeah, I will." Arnella cleared her throat, "Remember my handbag designs that I gave to Deidra?"

"Yes," Vanley said, "you were excited about it."

"She got a couple made and they are selling really well," Arnella proudly announced.

"Already?" Vanley looked surprised. "I am happy for you."

"Thanks." Arnella drove up to his house. "Nice place. Isn't this too big for a lone gentleman?"

Vanley raised his eyebrow. "What are you implying?"

"Nothing." Arnella winked at him. "Nothing at all."

Vanley sighed. "I am gonna get a shower."

Arnella nodded and left him to it. When he returned she was lying in his sofa, reading one of his religious magazines. "You know, you never told me why you looked so down."

Vanley sighed and sat across from her. "What would you do if the person you loved claims they would be with you except that there is some secret, but they won't tell you what it is."

"I would do some detective work myself," said Arnella, "find out what the darned secret was, and move on with my life."

Vanley looked at her interestedly. "Define detective work?"

"Go investigate." Arnella sat up. "Treat it like a Nancy Drew mystery. You know, the mystery of the older woman who won't tell her secret."

"I don't have much time to do that," Vanley said. "I have a whole slew of stuff to do. Today is shut-in visitation day, and I committed to teaching a group of persons to read. We are meeting at the Community Center this evening. After the basics I am going to have them reading Bible Stories and then..."

Arnella stopped him. "What are you doing on Sunday?"

"Wedding and a funeral," Vanley said.

"Get an accomplice then," Arnella said, "a sidekick. Every good detective has one."

"You are not volunteering are you?"

"Nah," Arnella laughed. "I am not even remotely interested in this secret that your old girlfriend is hiding."

"Stop calling her old. Forty is not old."

"If you told me her name, I could call her something," Arnella said.

"Anita," Vanley volunteered her name quickly.

"Oh, the VP, Anita Parkinson? I saw the way you looked at her at the wedding" Arnella smiled. "She really doesn't look old. She looks better than some of the twenty year olds on campus."