Evidence of Desire: Hero Series 3 (18 page)

As she ended the dance bowed in knees, head and heart, she knew she wanted to confide in him. She would.

The applause for her performance went out through the room. She rose, executed a graceful bow then exited the stage.

~ML~

“Oh, my…Sonya. You were wonderful.” Charmagne was the first one to pull her into a hug when she arrived in the lobby after she’d changed into jeans and a sweater.

“The whole troupe was marvelous. That woman who dance to Pieces by Red left me speechless.” Charles offered her a bouquet of pink, white and yellow roses as he placed a kiss on both her cheeks.

“Nora is seventy-two.” She could help but scan the room, looking for the one person she’d expected to see waiting on her after the show. Parker wasn’t there. Last night she hadn’t been able to sleep and after midnight she’d heard a car drive along her street and stop close to her house. She’d peeped through a crack in the shade and had seen his car sitting there. He’d shut off the vehicle and had gotten out. She expected him to walk up to the door and knock, but he didn’t do either. He’d leaned against the side of his car and just stared at her house.

For thirty minutes, she waited in anticipation of what he would do—watching him as he watched over her. Finally, he’d stood and got back behind the wheel then started up the car and drove away.

What would you have done if he’d knocked?
The same question haunted her now as it did then. She didn’t have an answer.

Charmagne glanced around then back at her. Her best friend’s eyes were filled with understanding of just who Sonya was looking for.

Parker had been in the audience but hadn’t remained.

“You must be starving. I know I am.” Charmagne rubbed her distended belly, she was a lot bigger than she had been just weeks before.

Sonya smiled at her friend, thankful she’d offered her a distraction. “Yes. I am. What are you in the mood for mother-to-be?”

“Ribs. I know it is too late to have them but I want them.”

Charles laughed and shook his head. “I won’t tell you that she had them for lunch when we arrived.”

“Snitch.” Charmagne raised her fist at her husband.

“I think you just may find yourself in need of sutures.” Sonya warned him as she looped her arm through her friends. Being around them tonight would be good for her. Charmagne knew that there was a problem with one of the piece at her job but that was it. Sonya hadn’t wanted to worry her friend while she was pregnant, especially since there were no answers of who, when or why were answered.

“I think your right, Sonya. I will go get the car and bring it to the front. After we eat I will bring you back to your car.”

“Thanks.” Sonya called after him as he moved with the mass of people headed out.

“While we have a moment, how are things with Parker?”

Sonya figured Charmagne didn’t want to ask about Parker around Charles since the two men were friends. Charles hated to be in the middle of the relationship and frankly the women didn’t want him there either.

“Complicated.”

“Haven’t you all always been?” Charmagne kept a slow stride to the door.

“Yes. Maybe that’s the problem. In college there was school, in marriage there was our careers or preparation for them.”

“Now?”

She shrugged, not knowing how to answer that.

“Love isn’t all fairytales and roses. It takes not only the feelings but a little stick to it. I know you love Parker.” Her friend stopped and faced her. “I also know how much your regret not staying in California and giving the marriage more of a try.”

“Hey! I don’t regret my career choices.”

“Just the path you took to get there and what you gave up to have it?”

Damn. Charmagne was always too intuitive.

“Maybe. However, if I had my life to do over, I wouldn’t change it.”

“I’m not suggesting you should have done anything differently.” The burgeoning woman took hold of her hand. “Just make sure of what path you take in the future. It looks like you got a second time around. Thirds are very rare.”

Sonya squeezed her hand because her throat was constrict and aching with the emotion riding there.

She was saved by the honking of Charles’ horn. The line of people trying to get away was crushing. He wouldn’t be able to hold the prime spot for long.

They hurried along. Food and a visit with her friend now, Parker tomorrow.

~ML~

Beautiful, elegant and captivating. Those were the words that came to Parker’s mind as he headed home after the dance recital. He knew she was in good hands. Charles and Charmagne would be with her for the rest of the evening. He’d run into Charles in the hallway at the end of the show. They spoke on the phone a few times, but he’d missed hanging out with his college friend. It was good to see him. Charles had invited him along to dinner, but Parker didn’t feel that was the best. He wanted to talk to Sonya but he would allow her this night unfettered with her friends. Parker had promised Charles that he would be up to Northern Virginia soon.

If he was lucky, he and Sonya would work things out and they travel there together.

Tomorrow, he told himself as he continued down the road.

~ML~

“It was a lot of fun hanging out with you two.” Sonya gave Charles a hug first after they all got out of the car back at the Belk Theater.

He was parked behind her car in one of the pay lots in Uptown behind the theater. The lot had been packed early in the day when she’d arrived for the performance, but now a few people milled about. Now for the most part people were in bars, clubs or restaurants. It was busier down toward the public transport terminal and the EPI Center.

“Always great to see you. Take care of yourself and come up soon.” Charles ended the hug and moved away to allow room for his wife.

“I will be up there when the baby is born. I promise.” Sonya pulled her friend in her arms. At times like this with what was going on in her life this week—personally and professionally—she really missed Charmagne and wanted to talk to her about everything. But, she held her tongue.

“You better.” Charmagne held her as tight and close as she could with her large belly resting between them. After a kiss on her cheek, she moved away. “It’s kind of late. Do you want us to follow you home?”

Sniffling and quickly wiping her eyes, Sonya backed up to her car. “No. This is my city. I’m good. Besides you and the baby need some rest.”

“Then why are you crying?” Her friend’s eyes began to water up, her hormones working fast.

“It’s winter and the cold wind is blowing in my eyes.” Sonya blinked a lot trying to clear away her watery vision.

“Oh.” Twin stream rolled down Charmagne’s cheeks. “I thought it was because miss me, my sister. Because you really shouldn’t be so far away from your godchild.” She rubbed her stomach.

“Now you’re going to make me feel bad.” A single tear slipped from her eye before she could catch it. Just a few days ago she may have been able to joke and say she was putting in for a spot at the new African American museum in D.C., but that opportunity may be closed off forever to her if the investigation took a wrong turn in her disfavor.

“Okay, ladies. We are getting into cars before I find myself drowned out here in the cold.” Charles held Sonya’s door open for her then ushered his wife into her seat in their car. “Drive safe,” he mouthed to Sonya as he round his car to the driver side.

Sonya swiped at the tears at the corner of her eyes then started her car. That’s when something caught her eye on the hood of her car. Opening her door, she stepped out and reached for the bundle.

A bouquet of white lilies were wrapped in green tissue paper and held together by a dark ribbon—perhaps royal blue or violet.

Parker.

She pulled the flowers closer to her nose and sniffed. This time of year, the selection of flowers had to be expensive since they were springtime blooms. The color match up was odd, she was more of a classic rose person herself, but they were unique and maybe that was what he was trying to say to her. I’m unique?

Why didn’t he stay and give them to me?

“You alright?” Charmagne yelled from her passenger side window.

Turn she waved at them. “Great. Good night.”

Charmagne returned the farewell then rolled her window back up against the chilly night air.

Back inside the increasing warmth of her interior she set the flowers on the passenger seat beside the ones her friends had given her. She fastened her seatbelt. In her rearview see saw Charles pull away from her bumper. She backed out of the spot and followed her friends out of the exit for the parking lot. They went left to their hotel and she went right toward the interstate.

She turned on her radio just to get some noise in the car that wasn’t her own voice in her head. Thank goodness it was Saturday night and so the oldies station was playing the party spin for one of the local clubs. Perfect distraction.

On the interstate she was amazed at all the traffic out at that time of night then the announcer on the radio congratulated the Panthers on a win over the Steelers. She wasn’t a sports fan at all, but always believed in routing for the home team. The road narrowed because of construction and traffic pattern changes. She was moving at a turtles crawl when her phone rung.

She pushed the connect button on her steering wheel. “Hello.”

“Pumpadoodle. Sorry it’s late…were you sleeping?” There was something in her father’s voice, a heaviness that concerned her.

“No, dad. I’m up. I had an event tonight and I was out with friends.” A late Lucy squeezed into the space between her and the car before her when the lanes went from two to one. She grit her teeth at the annoyance of the driver now before her. Signs were back two miles reading merger right.

“Oh, okay.”

“What’s wrong, dad?” She was sure his call had to do with money, that money meant alcohol, but she was still concerned for him.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing.” He sighed.

“Dad?”

“I don’t want to worry you, but my feet keep swelling.” He groaned heavy into the phone as if he were lifting something or using his energy to move himself around.

“Why are they swelling? Have you seen your doctor?” She saw that the end of the road work was coming up and was elated.

“Nah. He just wants to pump me full of meds. They always make my stomach hurt and I don’t think they do a damn bit of good.”

She let out a soft exhale so he didn’t hear it. It wasn’t the meds but the alcohol in combination with the medication that caused the adverse reactions. “How about I send you some new shoes. Something a little wider and some compression socks. Think that will help?”

“Oh, sure, sure. But, I don’t want to be a bother.” He voice drifted lower.

“No bother, dad.” For once hearing her father lament about his aches and pains made her feel balanced. This was her normal. What was going on at the museum wasn’t, but this was.

“Well, thanks. I love you.”

“I love you, too. I’ll put a few dollars in the box with the shoes too.” Normally, she tried to limit giving him money. Money equaled booze. However, if her career went south there were a lot of things she would not be able to do, take care of her father was one of them.

“You’re the best, pumpadoodle.”

She ended the call just as the road opened up. Increasing her speed she was ready to get home and crawl into her bed. She was exhausted and just maybe sleep would come to her tonight. Tomorrow she’d get up and go to church to pray for her father and pray for herself.

Moving along I-85 she was relieved to see her exit coming up in a mile and half. She switched from left to right only to be tailed to close by a semi-truck. Stepping on the gas so that she could get a little more distance between her bumper and his grill before she took her exit. Turning her wheel she moved to the right one more to get in the feeder lane to her exit. All of a sudden in her side mirror was a bright beaming light from a motorcycle that had to be doing well over the speed limit. She couldn’t cut back left, because of the big rig. The rider disregarded rules of safety and zipped left then flashed by her and zagged right cutting her off on the ramp. His actions caused her to slam on her breaks to avoid clipping his back tire.

Her foot went all the way to the floor. The car was still rolling at a rapid pace that matched the beating of her heart. Her skin tightened as she gripped the wheel and pumped the break harder over and over. Her only choice not to hurt another motorist was to swerve to the shoulder.

Tires hit debris, loose gravel and slick grass causing her car to spin out of control. She stepped her left foot onto the emergency break.

Tires screeched. Horns blared.

“Oh, God! Help me!” Her car went from a ditch up the side embankment where it got stuck and stopped. She sat there shaking, tears rolling down her face and sick to her stomach.

She wasn’t sure if she was going to faint or throw-up. Or both.

“Miss…miss…Are you alright.”

Looking out her side window, that was no longer there, she saw a shadow of a man. Guardian Angel? Good Samaritan? At this moment it didn’t matter to her.