Accidentally Yours (19 page)

He picked at the T-bone, in the end only eating half his meal. He left it on the table. Maybe his appetite would return when it was closer to the time for her to return.

The last thing he expected was to hear her say she had plans for tonight. He was afraid he had acted like a chump, wearing his disappointment as openly as he wore his clothing. It had been years since he’d been caught with his emotions showing. He hoped Vivian would see it only as a result of his being isolated for two consecutive days, even if he knew that wasn’t it. He wanted company, but not just anybody. Last night had been wonderful, having dinner with her and then sitting together in front of the computer. All day he had looked forward to doing it again, not only spending time with her, but perhaps a repeat of that wonderful kiss they shared, this time assuring her there was no reason for her to be nervous. If he wanted to get out for a few hours, all it would take would be one phone call to any of the women he knew who lived in the area. But he didn’t want to be with any of those women, he wanted to be with Vivian. She had made an indelible impression on him that first night in the ER at Hudson, and he believed Fate played a role in throwing them together again and again.

*****

Vivian found the Williams home with no difficulty. It was one of those Leave It to Beaver stone- and-shingle homes that began to dot American suburbia in the prosperous post-World War II years, well before any African-Americans lived in the village of Pelham. She forced herself to look pleasant as she moved down the front walk. It was only a quarter to seven, but she felt she should arrive a few minutes early. It seemed tacky to arrive just in time to sit down to dinner. At least this way she could participate in a little pre-dinner chitchat.

The dog began barking the moment she rang the doorbell. Good Lord, it sounded vicious, like a Doberman or a rottweiler. Or maybe there were two. Vivian didn
’t like strange dogs, and they usually didn’t like her, either. Now she knew how mail carriers felt.

Bernard answered the door. It was good to see him after nearly a week, and he looked much healthier than he had last week in the hospital. He held out his hand, and when she was inside he discreetly kissed her on the lips.

She jumped on hearing the low moan of a dog. A large Irish setter bounded into the foyer. How could such a gentle-looking animal sound so threatening?

“
Oh, that’s just Cocoa coming to check you out. He does that to everybody he doesn’t know. Don’cha, boy?” Bernard rubbed the top of the dog’s head. Cocoa ignored him, instead concentrating on sniffing at her, trying to put his snout between her legs while he panted like a plus-size man making love. Why did dogs always do that? Maybe it would make sense if she had been stuck on a desert island or somewhere without facilities, but this was ridiculous. She was fresh out of the shower. It would be less embarrassing to be bitten.

Bernard
’s voice was sharp as he reprimanded the dog. “Hey! Cut that out.” Cocoa obediently stopped his sniffing...or maybe he had had enough. He ambled off out of sight. “Sorry about that,” Bernard said. He took her arm. “Come in. I want you to meet my uncle.”

She frowned. His uncle! What was this, a family reunion? She walked with him into the living room. Mr. Williams was seated in a chair opposite the television, his feet propped up on a matching ottoman with Cocoa resting nearby. When he saw them he swung his legs to the floor
and began to rise.

“
Oh, please don’t get up, Mr. Williams,” she said, walking over to him and extending her hand. “It’s good to see you again.”

“
Hello, Vivian. Glad you could join us.” He shook her hand.

Bernard led her toward another man seated on the sofa.
“And this is my uncle, Oliver Williams.”

“
Hello, Mr. Williams.” Vivian shook his hand. He strongly resembled his brother. “Are you and Bernard’s father twins?”

Oliver laughed heartily. When he spoke she had difficulty understanding his words; he spoke in a barking manner with poor enunciation. As best as she could tell, he was saying
something like, “Oh, people ask me that all the time. We look a lot alike, but we’re not twins.”

She turned to Bernard.
“Where’s your mother? I’d like to say hello.”

“
In the kitchen. She’ll be out soon.”

Vivian pictured Mrs. Williams patting flour on her face to make it appear that she had been slaving over a hot stove, when in reality she had probably thrown the uncooked meal in one of those oven bags and was in there reading a magazine.

She took a seat in the middle of the couch next to Oliver, with Bernard sitting on her other side. “Would you like a drink?” he offered.

“
Some wine would be lovely.”

Bernard disappeared, and she was star
tled when Oliver patted her lower thigh and said something unintelligible. “I’m sorry. I didn’t quite understand you.”

He repeated the statement, and this time she understood a
little better. Still, she wanted to be sure. “How long have I been seeing Bernard?” she asked. When he nodded, she said, “We’ve gone out a few times. I was with him the afternoon his ulcer acted up.”

Oliver made a reply, but it sounded like mush.
Vivian felt like she had stumbled into a Peanuts cartoon broadcast. Oliver Williams was about as intelligible as the horn that provided the voice of Charlie Brown’s teacher.

His brother came to the rescue.
“Now, Ollie, kids today have different options than we did. I agree that there wasn’t any stress delivering the mail. But we didn’t get paid like Bernie does, either.”

Vivian raised an eyebrow.
Bernie?

Bernard returned with two glasses and handed her one.
“Mom says she’s ready.”

“
Good,” Mr. Williams said, getting to his feet, quickly followed by Vivian, who nearly spilled her wine in her anxiousness to get up. Oliver had not removed his hand from her knee, and it was getting uncomfortable. It wasn’t like she could give him a withering look or, to make certain he got the point, lift his hand and put it back in his lap. Not that he didn’t have it coming, but it would be considered rude and disrespectful of her elders. She hadn’t bargained for the evening to include a lecherous uncle. She just hoped she wasn’t seated next to him at dinner.

In the dining room Mrs. Williams greeted her with uncharacteristic friendliness.
“We’re so happy you could join us tonight, Vivian.”

“
Thank you. I’m glad I could be here. Can I help you with anything?”

“
No, I’ve got everything on the table. Let’s all sit down. Bernard, you’re next to Vivian. Ollie, on this side.”

As
Vivian looked at her plate, she wished Mrs. Williams had put a little more thought into her menu planning. Dinner was a colorless affair, with chicken with white gravy, biscuits, rice, and turnips, which she detested. Only the burnt orange stoneware kept them from drowning in a bland sea of white food.

During the meal she learned that Oliver lived with the Williamses. Fortunately,
he didn’t say much during dinner, concentrating on shoveling in his food like this was his last meal. The conversation was dominated by Mrs. Williams asking one loaded question after another. Vivian was from Connecticut? Had her family lived there very long? What did her father do? Oh, her mother worked, too, as a librarian? How nice! Did she have any siblings? And what did her brother do? Did he like living in Rhode Island? Vivian was glad when Mr. Williams laughed and said, “Ceola, you’re asking so many questions the poor girl can’t eat her food;” it gave her a reprieve.

She was swallowing a bite of chicken when Mrs. Williams started in again.
“Vivian, I noticed your eyelids are kind of reddish. Do you have some kind of rash?”

She froze. She had always used bright makeup; after all, she was brown enough to be able to handle the contrast
. But she was careful in applying it. She decided Bernard’s mother was just trying to give her a hard time. “I don’t think so,” she said, relaxing. “I don’t feel any itching. I’ll take a look at it later.”

She had fiddled with her wine glass for what seemed like an eternity after it was empty, but by the time Mrs. Williams cleared the table for dessert she made a quiet but desperate grab for the wine bot
tle and poured herself a second glass. Her movement was not lost on the sharp-eyed older woman, who pointedly remarked, “Bernard, perhaps you should drive Vivian home tonight.”

She resolved to get away as quickly as she could
.

*****

“I’d like to thank you for a charming evening.” She was surprised she could get the words out without bursting into laughter. She had been properly cordial when thanking Mr. and Mrs. Williams, knowing she would never see them again; and in saying goodbye to Uncle Ollie, who marked the occasion with a kiss full on the lips. So help her, if he had tried to infuse his tongue in her mouth she would have bitten it, uncle or no uncle.

Now she and Bernard were alone by her car. She wished she could tell him right now that it could never work between them. He was a nice man, but he
’d have a lot more appeal if he was an orphan...or at least motherless. Uncle-less, too.

Bernard laughed.
“Charming evening, huh? You know you didn’t mean that.”

It was poin
tless to object. “All right, I didn’t mean it.”

“
I guess it wasn’t fair to spring Uncle Ollie on you. He’s a trip. He’s lived with my parents ever since his wife threw him out.”

“
For cheating on her, I’ll bet.”

His forehead wrinkled.
“How did you know?”

“
Just a hunch. What’s with him, anyway? I could barely understand a word he was saying.”

“
That’s just the way he talks. I’ve been around him all my life, and I couldn’t understand him either until I was about fifteen.” He put an arm around her. “I’m going home Saturday. How about some seafood Saturday night? Just the two of us.”

“
I’m going to Connecticut Saturday.”

“
But you were just there Sunday.”

“
I’m not going to New London. I have a friend who lives up near Hartford. She’s the one I’m going on the safari with. We try to get together once a month.” That much was true, but she and Lauren Walters usually met in Stamford, the halfway point between their respective locations.

“
All right. I guess I’ll talk to you when you get back.” Was she imagining it, or did a knowing look cross his face?

“
I’m awfully tired, Bernard. I’m going to go home now.” She unlocked her car door.

There was something in his kiss that told her he knew what was coming. His lips touched hers for just for a second and managed to reflect power and defeat at the same time.

She waved to him as she drove off. The evening she’d dreaded for days was over. It hadn’t been too bad, if you didn’t count a lustful uncle, a horny dog, and a mother who thought she was a lush.

She glanced at the clock on the dashboard display. It was early, only eight
-forty-five. Good. All she could think about was going home to Zack. She hated to admit it, but she was going to miss him when he was gone.

Chapter 1
2

Brutal

Z
ack looked at Vivian carefully. “You’re sure you’re up to it?”

“
Absolutely. Whenever you’re ready.”

He hadn
’t expected her to really want to go out again once she returned home; he thought she was only trying to humor him when she made the suggestion. But he also hadn’t expected her to return this early, either. He reached for his crutches.

“
Hey, you’ve really gotten good on those things.”

“
Thanks. I’ve had practice.” He eased down the stairs. It was a slow process, but when he got to the bottom he felt fine, not exhausted and weak the way he had after leaving the ER. This was actually the second time he’d ventured downstairs this evening; he’d paid a visit to Austin’s parents while Vivian was gone.

She held the door open for him, and he breathed in a great gulp of night air.
“Oh, that smells good. I’ve had the windows open during the day, but there’s nothing like letting fresh air surround you.”

“
Where are we going?” she asked when they were in his forest green Blazer, which he insisted they take; it had been sitting idle for two days and was due to be moved anyway; the street sweepers would be coming through overnight.

“
A little place called Smitty’s. It’s not far from here.”

“
I’ve never heard of it.”

“
It’s a nice place. The bartender sings.”

“
He sings?”

“
He’s good at it, too. You’ll see.”

Minutes later they arrived at the small establishment that had been a favorite of his ever since he had dated a young woman who lived nearby. They had broken up years ago, and the last he heard she was married and living in Maryland, but he still stopped in at the bar whenever he was in the area.

Lemuel Smith, the owner, was tending bar. “Hey, it’s the Zack attack!” he greeted, smiling broadly. His gaze took in Zack’s crutches and arm sling. “What happened, you get run over by a bus?”

Zack laughed.
“I fell off a ladder.”

“
Broke your ankle, huh?”

“
No, just a sprain. I should be back on both feet Friday.” Zack turned to Vivian. “Vivian, this is Lemuel Smith. Lem, Vivian St. James.”

“
Are you the gentleman who sings?” she asked as she shook his hand.

“
That’s me. I’ll serenade you while you’re having your drinks. What’ll you have?”

Zack ordered beer and Vivian requested wine. They brought their glasses to one of the booths lining the opposite wall, and he asked the question that had been on his mind ever since she returned.
“How was dinner?”

She rolled her eyes.
“To sum it up nicely, it was awful. But I know I’ll sleep good tonight—this is my third glass of wine.”

“
And your last. You’re driving.” It probably wasn’t nice of him, but he was relieved to learn the evening hadn’t been pleasant for her. Perhaps that meant she was ready to write off her date. Had it been Bernard Williams, or someone else she’d met?

He watched Vivian turn sharply when Lemuel began to sing along with the slow jam on the jukebox, his rich baritone amplified by the microphone he kept behind the bar. He was an excellent singer, reminding him of Will Downing.

“Wow. He’s really good.” Her admiration was evident in her dreamy facial expression.

“
I wish you’d look at me like that.”

“
Like what?”

“
Like you’re willing the person you’re looking at to sweep you up and carry you off.”

“
Can you sing to me like that?”

“
I couldn’t carry a tune if it came in a briefcase with a million dollars.”

They only stayed long enough to have one drink.
“You’d better get some sleep,” Zack told her. “I’d hate for the future manager of human resources to be found slumped over her desk, snoring.” He was yawning himself by the time they got back to Vivian’s apartment. Today was the most active day he’d had since his injury, and he’d been on red alert during the brief ride home, making certain she had no problems driving. “Sweet dreams,” he called out as she headed for her bedroom, her gait just a tad slow after three glasses of wine in relatively quick succession. He would have liked to kiss her again, even if it was for just a moment, but he passed. If she’d been with a date earlier, no matter how bad it was, she had probably already been kissed. He preferred to be the only one.

*****

Vivian fell asleep wondering why he hadn’t kissed her.

When she woke up she wondered why he hadn
’t kissed her.

During the drive to work she wondered why he hadn
’t kissed her. She was beginning to see Zack Warner in a different light, and she would have welcomed his embrace.

When she arrived at work she had to put him out of her mind; she had too much to do.

Zack himself had given her an idea of how to handle her biggest problem. Writing an anonymous note to the purchasing manager seemed cowardly, but under the circumstances it would save embarrassment, both hers and his. The trouble was, she had been drafting official-sounding correspondence for so long everything she wrote had that human resources air about it. She needed to sound ordinary, not administrative; none of that “it has recently been brought to my attention” stuff.

She was pretty satisfied with what she had drafted when she took a call from the lab that processed their new employees
’ chemical tests. “Hi, Sharon! What’s up?”

“
We’ve got a positive, Vivian.”

“
Oh, no! Who is it?”

“
Dennis Chin.”

“
Dennis Chin!” she exclaimed. “You’re kidding.”

“
I was kind of surprised, too. He’s so bookish, reminds me of Clark Kent. But he’s got marijuana and cocaine in his system.”

“
Are you sure you got the right results?”

“
Positive.”

Vivian sighed.
“I guess I’ll have to be the bearer of bad news.” She wasn’t looking forward to it, but company policy mandated that anyone who failed the drug test would be let go immediately. She wasn’t expecting to have to handle anything like this. Why was all this stuff happening while Lisa was out of town?

She put in a call to the MIS director, Mel Norris. Maybe he would volunteer to give Dennis the ax. But even as she pecked out the four-digit extension, she didn
’t feel particularly optimistic. Mel was an affable chap in his sixties whose previously silver hair was now brown (courtesy of one of those dye products whose slogan to a public they obviously thought stupid was that no one would notice). He was an excellent manager, but his style included leaving personnel matters to human resources.

She took a deep breath when he answered.
“Hello, Mel. It’s Vivian St James.”

“
Hullo, Vivian.”

She winced. Mel was brilliant, but he had a slow, deliberate way of speaking that suggested an IQ of fifty.
“The lab just called, Mel. They said Dennis Chin tested positive for marijuana and cocaine.”

Silence. Finally he spoke.
“Dennis? Are they certain?”

“
I had the same reaction. I asked if there was any possibility of an error, but they said it was correct.”

“
That’s too bad. I’m certainly surprised. I guess you’ll want to see him.”

A euphemism for terminating him, she knew. So much for hoping he would handle it
. But of course it wasn’t his responsibility, it was hers. Dennis had fooled them all. “I was going to call him down now, but I wanted to notify you first”

“
Thank you. I’ll try to talk to him when he comes up to get his things.”

Sheer nerves made her wait a half-hour before asking Dennis to come to her office.
This would not be pleasant, and the procrastinator in her wanted to put it off as long as possible.

But she knew she couldn
’t hold off forever, so she called Mel’s secretary to get Dennis’s extension, then placed the call. “Hi, Dennis. Vivian St James in human resources…fine, thanks. I need to see you about something important. Can you come down to my office?”

“
Sure. Be right there.”

Dennis didn
’t appear suspicious of her motives when he announced his arrival by knocking on her open office door. “What’d I do, forget to sign something?”

“
Come in, Dennis, and close the door.”

In the few seconds it took for him to be seated, his demeanor went from joviality to anxiousness. She saw him grip the arms of the chair and knew the first gnawings that something was wrong were taking effect
.

She
cleared her throat and wished there was an easy way to say it. “Dennis, I’m afraid I have bad news.” She reminded herself that he certainly knew his own habits. Maybe he had misjudged the time it would take for the substances to clear his system.

“
What’s wrong?”

“
Our lab tells us that you tested positive.”

If the distress on his face was any indicator, Dennis was a fabulous actor. His forehead wrinkled as he shook his head, looking as disbelieving as anyone would if she
’d just announced that Martians had landed in the parking lot. “It’s a mistake,” he said. “I don’t use drugs. I’ve never used drugs.”

She wanted to badly to believe him. She could no easier picture Dennis with a joint between his fingers as she could picture Newt Gingrich naked.
“They said they were certain, Dennis. I’m sorry.”

“
You’re firing me? For something I didn’t do?”

“
We don’t allow anyone who tests positive to remain in our employ. That’s the rule, and there can’t be any exceptions. I’m sure you understand.”

“
But they’re wrong!”

Oh, my. His voice had broken, and were those tears in his eyes? This was so difficult. She didn
’t understand how people could deliberately be cruel, like a landlord who chose the day when a snowstorm hit to evict a family with small children. “I’m so sorry, Dennis, but those are the rules. I have to abide by them.”

“
The lab made a mistake. Let them retest me. They won’t find any drugs in my system.”

“
I’m afraid we can’t do that. Giving second chances isn’t practical. The drugs in your system could have cleared out in the interim.”

“
Drugs? Plural?”

“
They found traces of both marijuana and cocaine.”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out
. He looked almost comical, sitting there wild-eyed with his mouth wide open. And then, as he closed his mouth, the tears poured out in earnest. His upper body trembled, and he removed his glasses to wipe his eyes with his palms.

She leaned forward and handed him her box of tissues, trying to think of something comforting to say. She had litt
le sympathy for people who used drugs or indulged in any behavior they knew had serious consequences, then expressed remorse when they were caught, but something about Dennis inspired compassion in her. “I wish there was something I could do,” was the best she could come up with.

He stopped crying and wiped his eyes.
“I swear to you, Vivian, it’s not possible for them to have found drugs in me.” He waved a hand when he saw her mouth open in protest. “It’s not fair. They make a mistake and I pay for it. I have no job, no way of paying my bills, my reputation is ruined…I went for that test on Friday afternoon. Someone was thinking about their plans for the weekend and mis-labeled my results.”

“
I’m sorry, Dennis,” she repeated.

“
I am, too.” He got up and left. She was glad to see he had recovered his dignity enough to leave with his head held high, but she found the entire experience unnerving.

*****

“I tell you, Glenda, the man was sobbing. It was so embarrassing.” Vivian was sitting in a hard plastic chair facing her friend’s desk in the payroll office.

“
I’ll bet. All I can say is he doesn’t look like a party animal to me.”

“
What a week I’m having!” she exclaimed.

“
It’s not all that bad. You don’t have to worry about Bernard anymore.” A curious Glenda had called her at home last night, but she’d been too groggy to talk. Vivian wasn’t surprised when Glenda came to the human resources office first thing in the morning, armed with a cup of steaming coffee and a cinnamon bun, to get the scoop about dinner at the Williams’s. “And at five o’clock you can go home and relax with Zack. What’s he making you for dinner tonight?”

“
Probably nothing. I have to go food shopping. My freezer’s empty except for maybe a pound of ground beef.” She paused, not sure if she was ready to confide a feeling so startlingly new to her. “Glenda, I like Zack. I mean, I really like him.”