Devil Mail (19 page)

Angela dimmed the lights as they entered her apartment. She had arranged her great room so that her dining table flushed the bay window for a rather static view of the apartment build
ing opposite to hers. The rich burgundy leather sofa was set at an angle to maximize the view of her modest 42” flat screen television, centered on the wall that divided the great room and her bedroom. “Table or sofa?” she asked as she dished up their meals.

“Sofa
.” Kieran plunked himself on the sofa as he spoke. “You didn’t have to use plates; the box would have been fine.” 

“That’s okay. You’re worth the extra washing up
.” Angela settled beside him and grabbed the TV remote. “Actually, d’you want to watch TV or would you rather some music?”

“Let’s see what’s on TV.” They were led quite naturally into conversing abo
ut what they liked to watch, and recalled some of their favorite episodes and scenes from mutually loved shows and movies.  When the conversation progressed to music, Kieran stated, “Let me guess; I bet you’re a jazz girl.”

Astounded, Angela’s mouth fell open. “Yes, how did you know?”

“Lucky guess, plus the rack of jazz CDs over there gave me a small clue.” Kieran acted slick and continued to surprise her by how much he appeared to know about her.

She asked him a series of ‘Would
I rather…’ questions and was taken aback at the accuracy of the majority of his guesses.  “Would I rather go to the movies or go bowling?” He guessed the movies and he was right. “Would I rather go to a concert or for a walk on the beach?” He correctly guessed a walk on the beach. “Would I rather date a strong man or one who lets me have my way all the time?” He correctly guessed a strong man. Would I rather have sweets or something savory? He guessed savory, but was wrong. She didn’t perform as well when the tables were turned, although she liked what she learned about him. He preferred antique to contemporary, movies to bowling, meat to carbs, savory to sweet, one-story to two-story houses, side salad to soup, visiting the future rather than the past, and most importantly, going on a one week vacation with Angela rather than having any person of his choice (from the past or present) spend one week with him at his place.

“I can’t believe it’s two thirty!” Angela gasped after what seemed like only an hour.

Kieran yawned. “I’m in no shape to drive. I’m whacked. Can I stay here - on your sofa?” Angela’s clash of reasoning delayed her reply. It wasn’t wise for her, as a single woman, to have a single man that she still wasn’t completely familiar with, sleep over in her apartment, but he had gone through such lengths to get her a delicious meal this evening, not to mention the magic he worked to get her car out of the impound at no cost to her.  How could she refuse? And suppose she refused and he ended up in a car accident on the way home? “I promise I’ll stay on the sofa all night.” He looked her in the eye to attest his sincerity.

“Sure, I’ll get you a pillow and a blanket.”

“Just a pillow, thanks.” He was so easy-going and personable, Angela could see how people would bend over backwards to help him.

This night overshadowed all the other sleepless nights that Angela could remember. In the darkness, she watched her bedroom door, preparing herself for a ribbon of light to stream into her bedroom, indicating Kieran’s presence at her door. In her mind, she ordered her words carefully. She would be gentle and kind in her rejection, making it abundantly clear that she found him very attractiv
e, but if he was looking for a physical relationship right now, she was not the one to deliver.

When she next looked at her clock it was four forty eight, and her door hadn’t
been cracked all night. Angela rose and crept stealthily over to the door, cracking it herself. What a picture! Kieran fast asleep on the sofa, one arm bolstering his head on the pillow, his muscular chest heaving rhythmically, his long, outstretched legs dangling over the edge of the sofa. Angela stood directly above him. His high-fashioned cheekbones and smooth skin incited her to trace the contours of his face with her soft fingertips. Her pulsating fingers encouraged her to do it; to run her fingers along the gentle slope of his aquiline nose, and around his supple downturned lips, then to follow the trail of his picture-perfect goatee. She’d never be able to accomplish such a desire without waking him. Angela leaned over him, and in a move that surprised her, she kissed his barely-parted lips.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

K
ieran must have felt the adjustment in the available air. He stirred. Angela pulled back striding quickly to the concealment of her bedroom, her heart pounding, her lips throbbing. She again fixed her eyes on the bedroom door. Had she roused him into action? If he came to her room, how could she now play the innocent, virtuous woman - the one of reserve whom he said he preferred? Julia’s taunt spun around in her head: “
I feel like I don’t even know you anymore
,” as did her apt response, “
I feel like I hardly know myself these days.”
What was becoming of her?

             
When sleep did come, it hammered her and drew her in deep. She woke up at nine thirteen to find the dishes that she and Kieran had used the night before washed and dried, a covered omelet on the stove, freshly brewed coffee and Kieran nowhere in sight. He left the pillow on the sofa beneath a note:

“You let me sleep here

…..how gracious

      You trusted me

…..how precious

You didn’t seduce me

…..how virtuous

                                 I enjoyed our date

…..it was glorious

Now enjoy your breakfast

…..it’s delicious!

I’ll call you later…gorgeous.”

             
Angela had never known romance like this before. Her desire for him burned within her. She was glad she had kissed him and as she read the note a second time, she planned to kiss him again as soon as another opportunity presented itself.

             
Kieran’s idea of ‘later’ as specified in the note was at just after ten o’clock. “Good morning sleepy head,” his voice filled with gaiety.

             
“Good morning Romeo.” Her voice was sultry.

             
“Oh, you got my note then?”

             
“I sure did.” She exercised an enormous amount of restraint to prevent her mouth from running and revealing all the unwieldy thoughts she had in her head.

As
planned, Kieran picked Angela up, and they spent the day grocery shopping and running what would have been mundane chores, had they not been together. Upon her insistence, Angela paid for lunch, since Kieran had spoiled her thus far.

When they arrived back at her apartment, a note on the door
told Angela that she had missed a visit from her mother who wanted her to call later. Angela put together a spaghetti and meatballs meal which they ate on the sofa while watching television, and soaking up the relaxing mood of the evening. There was no stress, no drama, just harmony between them, as they later marveled at the sunset from her balcony, his arms wrapped around her from behind, his warm breath tickling her ear, his appealing smell becoming her new favorite scent. 

“I don’t want you to think that I’m scheming to get another night under the same roof as you, so I’m gonna le
ave now,” Kieran said at eleven twenty. “Anyway, I wouldn’t want you to oversleep and miss church tomorrow.” Angela walked him to the door with a deliberate woeful look and slouched posture, invoking the pity she desired. “I don’t want to leave you either,” he said, stepping outside. He pivoted around just like she hoped he would, and leaned in towards her. She closed her eyes in heightened expectation. The kiss on her cheek came as a huge anticlimax.

“He’
s kissed me twice….” Angela complained to Julia who answered the telephone when she called her mother.

“Wow, you both aren’t wasting any time, are you?”

“On the cheek!” Angela protested. “He’s only given me one tiny peck on the lips!”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s just unusual, isn’t it?”

“Or perhaps he’s just being a gentleman,” Julia suggested.
Julia was right. Kieran was being the perfect gentleman.

The glances between Kieran and Angela during the Sunday morning service were frequent and indiscreet. It didn’t help that she was sitting beside Judith, who could not accurately be described as a sympathizer. “Give me your phone, I’ll take a picture of him for you, and you can stare at the picture for the rest of the service to keep you from busting up your neck to turn and look at him!” Judith whispered out of the side of her mouth. Angela thought it wouldn’t be such a bad idea if she could get away with it. She realized that she didn’t, in fact, have a picture of Kieran, and he looked so nice as she spotted him walking in, dressed in a pale pink collared button-down shirt and brown dress pants. Glossy Oliver Sweeney shoes completed his outfit.

In between them making eyes at each other, Angela picked up the gist of the sermon, which she believed was about
trusting God to take care of the things that concern you, when you take care of the things that concern Him. Since she wasn’t taking notes, she couldn’t be one hundred percent sure though.

Nothing could keep them apart after the service. “You look gorgeous,” he complimented. She had given much thought that morning
as to what outfit he might appreciate. The figure-flattering magenta maxi dress that she chose reflected her existing mood and bright outlook on life. She twisted her hair up and secured it with a bejeweled Japanese hair stick, while leaving curly bangs at the front to roll freely across her forehead.

“You look quite striking yourself,” she
replied, making no secret of her head-to-toe examination of him.

“When can I see you?” He lowered his voice on account of the very many inquisitive ears that surrounded them.

Angela spied her mother making a beeline for them. “I’ll call you after dinner at my mom’s,” she promised hurriedly. An awkward introduction followed, which was mercifully interrupted by the company of Miss Nelda, who flagrantly confirmed her crush on Kieran. Angela thought she had about as much as she could stomach when Sasha joined the party and began batting her eyelids and touching Kieran’s arm in an overly-familiar fashion, but there was more on the way for her stomach to handle, the likes of which she would never have expected.

“Would you like to
join us for dinner?” Mrs. Craddock asked. A startled Angela felt her heart leap fiercely enough to almost land it in her mouth. She searched her mother’s face for an indication of who the joke was directed to.

“
Err…I’d love to,” Kieran replied, sounding a tad nervous.

“I’d love to,”
Sasha echoed.

“Mom, you can’t just spring this on them
,” Angela interjected, “I’m sure they have plans.” It was no use. Her mother insisted, they accepted and her afternoon was fixed.

Angela smiled politely as Sasha sat in her chair at the table; the same chair Angela had sat in at every family meal, which today, happened to be beside Kieran. She puked in her mouth and swallowed it back down when this woman squeezed Kieran’s arm for the umpteenth time and feigned an unbecoming ladylike laugh in response to something Kieran said that was neither humorous, nor intended to be. Julia appeared genuinely sorry for Angela’s plight. 

Mrs. Craddock quizzed Kieran on his background, family, occupation and aspira
tions. “So, where is your office, exactly?” Angela expected no less from her mother.

“I haven’t quite set it up yet. I’m still seeking investors.”

“So, you don’t have a physical bricks and mortar office right now?” Mrs. Craddock prodded.

“Not yet, I’m in the process of getting that together.” Kieran seemed unperturbed by the interrogation, but Angela was mystified. How had she not known this? How had she formed the impression that he was working out of an established office? So, how was he carrying out his work as a technician? She did her best to mask the fact that she was perplexed, and although
the conversation had generated questions of her own, she dared not give voice to them and expose the fact that she didn’t know as much about Kieran as she thought she did. She wouldn’t give Sasha the satisfaction.

“What level of investment are you looking for?”
Sasha suddenly switched roles from irritating trespasser to businesswoman. 

“Well, at the moment, I’m making rounds and repairing computers at the client’s house. This is time-consuming and with gas prices trending upwards, it’s not cost-effective. So, I want to start off by renting a store front
location as my base, and have the client come to me.”

“That shouldn’t take that much in start-up capital. My dad’s in real estate, but he started his business from scratch in a store front too
. Let me talk to him; he might be able to help,” Sasha offered. Angela sat there helplessly while her rival came up with a potential solution to a problem that she didn’t even know existed. She was sick to her stomach. Her only consolation was her recollection of Kieran’s comment out on the lake on Friday night. He thought Sasha was clingy and too forward. Angela reassured herself that she had nothing to worry about.

It was like a breath of fresh air whenever Trey made an untimely comme
nt about the action heroes he loved so much. He found a captive audience in Kieran, who proved to be knowledgeable about each one that Trey mentioned.

“Which on
e’s your favorite?” Kieran asked Trey.

“
Hulk!” Trey shouted with great enthusiasm.

“Why’s he your favorite?”  Kieran continued,
quite happy with the pace and ease of the conversation.

“’Cos
he’s big and green and mad and he smash everything up.” Trey puffed out his tiny chest imitating the hulk, to the amusement of everyone at the table.

“Your son is adorable,”
Sasha said, turning to Julia.

“Thanks,” Julia replied graciously, even though she wanted to say, “
He’s the same kid you see at church every Sunday and never pay any attention to, so why start now?”

“He is adorable,” Kieran echo
ed. Julia smiled appreciatively. “I think it’d be a lot of fun to hang out with you, Buddy.” He added a bouncy inflection to his voice as he addressed Trey.

“Yeah, I be H
ulk and you be Spiderman and you put me in a web and I smash it up and come out and smash you up and jump and smash….”

“I think that’s enough smashing for today,” Mrs. Craddock
interrupted, and shifted the focus back to Kieran, who stood up to another round of intense grilling.

Angela was ready to leave by mid-afternoon. “Why do you need to leave so early? It’s a holiday tomorrow
.” Mrs. Craddock’s voice echoed her disappointment.

“I know, but I have a ton of work to catch up on,” Angela lied. She expected Kieran to follow suit
, make his excuses and leave at the same time, but he appeared to be quite comfortable playing with Trey on the living room floor, while her mother, sister and Sasha all looked on admiringly. 

At home, Angela waited impatiently for Kieran to call. She knew that every passing minute was another minute
Sasha probably spent in Kieran’s presence soaking up as much of his attention as she could and touching him. Relief came at a couple of minutes before six o’clock.

“Have you been at my mom’s all this time?” Angela asked as she answered the call.

“Yes, that little boy is a bundle of fun. It was hard to leave him,” Kieran replied.

“Is
the director still there?” She tried to steady her voice and cover her discontentment.

“No, she left
at the same time I did.”

“Of course she did.
” Angela’s vocalized thoughts slipped out of her mouth.

“Anyway, I’m on my way over to you. Do you want to go somewhere
, or you staying in to tackle the
ton
of work
you have to do?” Kieran asked, mockingly.

“
Oh, be quiet! I was hinting to you that it was time for
us
to get out of there. You really have to do a better job of picking up subtle cues.”

The couple headed in the direction of downtown Orlando
, in default of either of them coming up with a definite place to go. It was enough that they were together.

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t have an office?” Angela’s voice was sharp.

“I didn’t tell you that I did have an office.”

“You led me to believe that you had a computer repai
r business,” she insinuated.

“What did I ever say to you, to lead you to that conclusion?” Kieran remained calm. Angela’s silence spoke volumes. He was right. He hadn’t said anything about having an office; she had managed to leap to that conclusion all by herself.