Fifteen Years (19 page)

“What?” she asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You are so beautiful.” When Josiah heard the words, he hoped to God that they were only said in his mind and not blurted out loud. But Patrice’s expression dashed all hopes of that being the case.

“Wow.” She whisked her fingers through the bangs that kissed her forehead. “Thank you.” Her smile was very schoolgirl-like. “Where on earth did that come from?”

Yeah. Where on earth had that come from?
Josiah wished that someone would answer that question for him too. How had he been so careless as to let something like that slip from his mind to his tongue? He had to think of something fast.

“I’m just shocked; that’s all.” He had always been pretty good on his feet. “I mean, you were so ugly as a girl that it’s just hard to believe the magnitude of your evolution.”

Patrice pulled a handful of chips out of the bag she’d opened and flung them at him. “Shut up, boy.
You
were the ugly one!”

Josiah laughed, glad to have bailed himself out of that one. He brushed the chips off of his shirt and grabbed a plate from the basket. “So tell me what’s been going on in your life,” he said while grabbing several of the small sandwiches and piling them on his plate. What he really wanted to know was the whereabouts of Arielle’s dad and whether or not they were still involved.

“Not much else other than what I told you last night. It’s been school, work, and church. I’m so active in all of those areas that I haven’t had a whole lot of time for anything else.”

Apparently, she wasn’t going to volunteer anything. “I noticed that nobody calls you Peaches anymore. Should I try and get used to calling you Patrice?”

She laughed. “I’m thirty-four, JT. I guess most people just think I’m a little too old for little-girl nicknames.”

“So is that a yes?”

Patrice took a bite of her sandwich. “No. I actually like that you still call me Peaches. It reminds me of my innocent years. You know. When life was simpler.”

Sadness glossed over her eyes, and Josiah noticed it. He involuntarily clenched and unclenched his jaws; the same way he used to do as a kid when he knew it was time to defend her against one of the neighborhood or schoolyard children who wanted to make her speech impediment a target for dart throwing.

“Simpler?” Josiah decided to make a slow approach and not jump to any conclusions, but he had his suspicions about who had made her adult life hard. “If memory serves me correct, none of us had simple childhoods, Peaches. That’s why we were living with Dad and Mom to begin with.”

“I know.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin and swallowed more water. “But some moments in your life can make other moments in your life seem not as bad as they were, if you catch my drift.”

Josiah decided to take in a few ounces of fluid too. Mostly to cool the heat that he could feel rising within him. Somewhere there was a man who had broken Patrice’s heart, and he needed to find out more about it. His brewing anger wouldn’t let him continue to play word games. “What’s his name?”

“What?” Patrice’s eyes widened when she looked up from her plate.

“You heard me.”

“JT, I—”

“Just answer the question, please. Who is he?”

Patrice smiled. “What are you gonna do? Beat him up or something?”

Josiah gave her a look that said:
You think I won’t?

Patrice’s grin widened, and Josiah watched as she brought herself to her hands and knees and crawled toward him. His breath caught in his throat when she brought her lips to his cheek and kissed him there. Every fiber of Josiah’s being wanted him to turn his face toward her and make it a different kind of kiss, but he won the battle against his desires. He did, however, relish the feel of her lips against his skin.

Oh, God… please forgive me.
He had to find a way to put a permanent end to this madness, but Patrice wasn’t making it easy.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered in his ear as she lingered near him, resting her cheek against his. “When I was going through the really rough times, I needed you, JT. I knew if you had been there, you would have tried to rescue me.”

She had no idea how her closeness was torturing him. Josiah felt like he was being pulled into some kind of an abyss, but had no desire to be released. “Yes, I would have,” he whispered back. Keeping his voice from quivering was a major challenge. “I would have done it then, and I’ll do it now. Just tell me who I need to rescue you from.”

He felt Patrice pull away, and he found her looking up at him. Josiah would have declared under oath that he saw a wanting in her eyes, but then again, it could have easily just been a reflection of what was showing in his own.

She hastily returned to her seated position. “Do you really want to know the story?” She picked up a finger sandwich and pinched a small corner off before placing it in her mouth.

Josiah silently thanked God for the gentle breeze that rustled through the trees around them and cooled his brow. The moments before had brought on a minor heat wave. He wanted to scoop up his water bottle and empty the contents on top of his head. He needed a cold shower. As a substitute, he twisted open the cap and turned the bottle up to his lips, taking in several gulps. Then he picked up his own sandwich and took a bite. Now that he felt calm enough to talk, he said, “Yes. I want to know the story. And don’t leave anything out.”

Patrice pulled the band from her ponytail, and for a moment, she allowed the wind to scatter her long, massive waves before gathering it all and securing it in the band again. “Okay, I’ll tell you. But before I do, I want you to know that I don’t need rescuing anymore, so don’t go getting all worked up.”

Josiah made no promises as he shoved the rest of the sandwich in his mouth and picked up another.

“When I enrolled in LaSalle, I met this guy who seemed to be all that I wanted and more. He was fairly tall, extremely dark, and well, moderately handsome. I’ve never been hooked on physical appearance, so every guy didn’t have to be as good-looking as say … you for him to catch my attention.”

So … she thought he was handsome. Josiah didn’t know how to respond to that, so he remained silent; only offering a slight smile.

“He was very smart,” Patrice added. “He had a degree in clinical psychology.” Patrice paused while she swirled a chip in the salsa dip. She placed it in her mouth and chewed several times before rinsing it all down with water. “It’s kinda funny now when I think about it,” she continued, “because if ever there was a man who
needed
a psychologist, it was Bogart.”

Josiah almost choked on the slice of apple he was munching on. “Bogart? As in Humphrey?”

“It’s pronounced the same as Humphrey Bogart’s last name, yes.”

“And that’s this dude’s real name?”

“Yes.”

Josiah laughed. “Was he a brotha?” He’d asked it as a joke, but when he saw the look in her eyes, he wished he could take back his thoughtless remark. “Oh.” He didn’t know what else to say.

Patrice stuck out a brave chin. “Bogart is a Frenchman. His full name is Bogart Marseille.”

It was hard to talk with his foot still stuck in his mouth, but Josiah managed. “So just now when you said he was very dark…”

“I was speaking of his hair,” she clarified. “His hair was very dark.”

Josiah nodded. It all made sense now—why Arielle’s skin was fairer than Patrice’s and why she spoke with a slight accent. But instead of saying so, he thought it best that he just kept his big mouth shut for a while.

“If he weren’t around, I called him Bo. I thought of it as a term of endearment, but he absolutely hated it. He saw it as disrespectful when I shortened his name.” When she noted the puzzled look on Josiah’s face, Patrice added, “I didn’t get it either, so don’t ask. But I respected his wishes, and I only referred to him as Bo when I was speaking to others outside of his presence.”

“And you say he had some psychological issues?” Josiah wanted to get to the meat of the story.

“Yeah, I used to say I didn’t see it before we got married, but—”

“Married?” Josiah never expected that. He just figured that this Bogart guy was somebody with whom she’d had a relationship that
went too far. He didn’t give any serious consideration to the fact that Arielle might be the result of a marriage. “You’re married?”

Patrice tilted her head like his reaction had surprised her. “I
was
married, yes. Bo and I got married as soon as I graduated from LaSalle.”

“He’d already graduated, or was he behind you in school?”

Patrice squeezed her eyes shut, and then rubbed her face with her hands. It was hard for Josiah to determine if she were struggling with what she was about to say next, or if her reaction was just arbitrary Either way, he had the sinking feeling that he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear.

JOSIAH THREW a cashew in the air and caught it in his mouth. He had to find some kind of way to entertain himself while Patrice stalled. The roasted peanut he tossed next missed the mark and fell to the blanket. When she finally began speaking again, she pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, holding them close.

“He was older. Quite a bit older, actually. Bo wasn’t a student at the college, he was a professor.” She stopped talking and looked at Josiah as if she were expecting a dramatic reaction. When he said nothing, she shrugged and continued. “I didn’t take his class, but our eyes met on my first day at the school, and it felt magical. Like I indicated earlier, he wasn’t the handsomest man on campus, but he had this presence and aura of confidence that was unmatched by any man I’d ever known.”

“Was your relationship public?” Josiah couldn’t imagine a teacher-student romance not being a problem.

Patrice picked up the wayward peanut and rolled it between her fingers as she replied. “No. We kind of flirted with each other my entire junior year, but I don’t think anybody noticed. When I returned for my senior year, he asked me out for the first time. He told me that it was best that we kept it quiet, and I didn’t question that. I mean, he had a career to be concerned with. Although we were both adults, I could easily see how a forty-year-old teacher dating a twenty-one-year-old student would raise a few eyebrows.”

Josiah scratched his head. Something about the story wasn’t quite adding up. “You said you got married right after graduation, so you were what? Twenty-two?”

“Yeah, I was twenty-two.”

“That was twelve years ago, and Arielle is only four.” He hoped he wasn’t sounding accusing, but all of a sudden it seemed safe to guess that this Bo guy might not be the father of Patrice’s daughter. Had someone else been in the picture more recently? A second husband, maybe? Or a boyfriend who planted a seed he didn’t hang around long enough to see grow?

Patrice released a heavy sigh, threw the peanut into the distance, and then lay back and relaxed her body against the blanket on the ground. She stared up at the trees for a while, saying nothing. Josiah wanted to say something that would get her talking again, but he waited it out. Apparently she needed a moment… and that wasn’t a good sign.

“Bo and I were married for almost ten years,” she revealed, “but every single day after our wedding day was intolerable for me.”

When Josiah saw a tear trickle out of the corner of her eye and stream down to her ear, he didn’t know what he wanted to do more: comfort her, or kill Bo. The law said that every man was innocent
until proven guilty, and Josiah hadn’t even heard the whole story yet. But that didn’t stop him from passing down his own death sentence.

“There were times when he had been a bit temperamental during the year that we dated, but I always just thought he was a bit jealous. And I found it to be flattering that he took offense when guys at school smiled at me too hard or talked to me too long. It seemed reasonable to me that he’d feel a little threatened by handsome guys who were closer to my age. It was fun reassuring him that he was the love of my life—that he was my one and only.” She wiped away a tear and sniffed.

“And after you got married, it got worse?” Josiah knew the answer before he asked the question.

She nodded and said, “Much worse. I thought it would get better. I mean, I was out of school, so I was no longer surrounded by young princes on a daily basis. There was no need for the over protectiveness as far as I was concerned. We had talked about my dreams of becoming a speech pathologist, but as soon as we were married, he demanded that I be a housewife.” More tears were flowing now. “And when I say housewife, I mean
housewife.”

Josiah knew where this was headed, and he prayed to God that when he finally heard the words, he’d be able to maintain control. “Are you saying he wouldn’t allow you to work?”

“I’m saying he wouldn’t allow me out of the house period. Not unless he was with me. It was like I was his personal prisoner or something. During the day, all I could do was clean the house, wash and fold the laundry, and cook the meals. And at night, my job was to please him in whatever way he demanded.”

Josiah’s insides cringed, and he desperately wanted to throw something. If he weren’t still hungry, he would have picked up the basket and hurled it as far into the trees as he could. Instead, he took in a deep breath, and then released it along with more silent prayers.
Keeping as calm as he could, he slid the basket and leftovers to the side and made room to lie beside Patrice on the ground. Like clockwork, she lifted her head and placed it on his chest while tears flowed freely from her eyes.