Say You Need Me (16 page)

“Uh huh.” She laughed loudly when two ducks fought over some bread she’d just dropped.

Darrell enjoyed watching her. Her laughter warmed his heart and made him smile.

He faced the injured duck, which now eyed him warily. He lowered himself onto his haunches. “Here, Buford,” he
called softly. God, he felt ridiculous. Here he was, trying to gain a duck’s trust so that he could feed it a piece of bread.

The injured duck cocked its head to the side, but slowly took a step toward him. A few other ducks now moved toward Darrell, hoping to get bread from him. He tossed a piece in the other direction, and they ran toward it. Then, he quickly threw a piece toward Buford. Buford just as quickly gobbled it up.

“Hey, he got a piece,” Darrell announced proudly. He threw Buford one more fragment of bread, but another duck was faster. “That wasn’t for you,” Darrell told that duck.

“You have to create a diversion when you feed Buford. The other ducks are stronger and quicker.”

“Okay. Throw some bread a different way.”

Serena shredded a slice of bread and threw the fragments to the far left. While the other ducks fought for those pieces, Darrell quickly shot another morsel toward Buford. Buford grabbed it. “There you go,” Darrell said. Then he laughed. “God, I can’t believe I’m talking to a duck.”

“But you’re not thinking about your problems now, are you?”

“No.”

Serena gave him a victorious smile. Yeah, she had a point. Hanging out here feeding the ducks was mutually beneficial. Who would have thought he’d feel such a sense of happiness doing this?

He remembered feeding ducks once or twice when he’d been a kid in New York. It was one of the few happy memories he had of his mother before she’d split.

“These sure are funny looking ducks,” Darrell commented. They were a mix of black and white, with red fleshy skin around their bills. They weren’t like the ducks from the north.

“I call them turkey ducks.”

Darrell stood. “I need more bread.”

“I’m out.”

Darrell frowned. “Buford didn’t have enough to eat.”

“He’ll be okay,” Serena assured him. “Other residents will come out and feed them.”

Darrell headed toward Serena, glancing back at Buford. It stared at him, as if hoping there was more bread coming. “You sure? Maybe we should go buy more bread.”

“Buford will be okay. Everyone looks out for him.” When the ducks gathered around her feet, Serena spread her arms wide to show them that she wasn’t hiding any bread. “Sorry, guys. That’s all.”

Serena headed toward her backyard, and Darrell followed her. So did the ducks, he realized when he turned. “They’re still hungry.”

Serena opened the patio door. “Quick. Get in.”

“Why? They’ll follow you inside?”

“Yes. They’re very tame. And when you feed them—they love you. I told you, they’re like family.”

“You weren’t kidding.”

“I wasn’t.” She flashed him a grin as she closed the patio door. “I love it here. I really do. If you want, we can take a walk around the lake later. Hopefully we’ll get a glimpse of the water bird.”

“Water bird?”

“Yeah. It swims under water, searching for food. It stays
under for quite some time, coming up for air every minute or so. It’s really cool.”

“Wow.”

“And there are turtles out there, too, though you don’t see them as often.”

“This is a nice place.”

“How can you not take advantage of all this when it’s literally in your backyard?”

Serena’s question brought Darrell back to reality. “Because the real world has to come first.”

“This is the real world. Part of it, anyway. Like I said, you have to make time to enjoy it. Life’s too short to let the good things pass you by.”

Darrell conceded that Serena was probably right. Still, he couldn’t think about the good things in life until he’d found Cecil.

“Speaking of short lives…” Darrell’s voice trailed off as he contemplated the seriousness of the situation. For the first time in his life, he was truly afraid for Cecil. Yes, his brother had done some unthinkable things, but he certainly didn’t deserve to pay for them with his life.

Serena said, “Darrell, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I know you might think I don’t care what happens to Cecil, but I do. Yes, we have different reasons for wanting to find him, but I don’t want to see him hurt any more than you do.”

“Thank you,” Darrell said softly. “That means a lot.”

Serena headed further into the apartment, but Darrell stayed by the patio door, still staring outside. If only his biggest worry in life could be whether or not he’d fed the ducks enough bread.

“You okay?” Serena asked.

“Yeah,” Darrell replied, not turning to face her. Though he wasn’t, really. He wouldn’t be, not until this was over and Cecil was safe.

Even if that meant safe in a jail cell.

For the zillionth time, Darrell wondered how he and Cecil could come from the same embryo yet be so entirely different. And he wondered if he wasn’t crazy for having left his life in Orlando to come down here and search for Cecil. Didn’t animals let their young fend for themselves once they were old enough? Perhaps because Cecil always knew Darrell would be there for him when he got into trouble, he’d never made the effort to smarten up once and for all.

Darrell had done what he could to help raise Cecil into a decent human being, but he’d failed. What else could he possibly do for his brother now?

The more Darrell thought about it, the more he realized how crazy it was for him to be here in Miami. What could he realistically do for his brother besides convince him to turn himself in? If he indeed was in serious trouble, that might be the only thing that would save his life.

Darrell was imposing on Serena, and quite possibly getting her involved in something that was beyond his control. His brother had already scammed her, and Darrell would never forgive himself if something bad happened to her.

“I’m gonna take a bath,” Serena announced.

“What?” Darrell asked. Instantly, an image of what Serena would look like naked danced in his head.

“A bath. I won’t be long. Then I’ll make you some dinner.”

From zero to hard-on in ten seconds flat. Darrell shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. “Uh…you don’t have to. Make me dinner, that is.”

“I want to.” Planting her hands on her hips, Serena gave Darrell a sweet smile. “It’s been a long day, and we have another long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

And a long friggin’ night tonight
, Darrell thought. Why did she have to smile at him like that? And was she deliberately sticking out her chest, trying to get a rise out of him? Hell, she’d already done that.

“Okay. See you in a bit.” With that, Serena twirled around and headed down the hallway. Darrell couldn’t tear his eyes from her perfectly round behind.

Darrell dropped his head back against the sofa. A frustrated breath oozed out of his body. It had been
way
too long since he’d been with a woman. All work and no play and the first time he was spending some real time with a member of the opposite sex he couldn’t keep focused on what was important.

Man, what was wrong with him?

And how the hell was he supposed to spend the night here with Serena if he couldn’t stop thinking of her in a sexual way?

When he heard the bath water start running, Darrell sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees. His decision to leave was solidified by the fact that he obviously couldn’t focus while staying here.

First thing in the morning, he was heading back to Orlando.

“My parents were such lovebirds,” Serena commented
, as she opened a cupboard and withdrew some spices. “They always took time to enjoy life, enjoy each other. Every evening after dinner, they would sit on the front porch of our house—we had a porch swing—and they’d talk and laugh. I remember that vividly.”

“Uh huh.”

“They had a wonderful relationship,” Serena continued. “You could see the love in their eyes as they looked at each other…”

For the next several minutes, Darrell was mesmerized watching Serena prepare dinner and listening to her talk about her parents’ love affair. Maybe it was the way her whole body seemed to come alive as she spoke, but Darrell was enthralled with the story of how in love her parents had been. It was nice to know that real love existed
outside of books and movies, even if he hadn’t experienced it himself.

“…Smitten right from the moment they met. At least, that’s what my mother said. I believed her, because my father always looked at her like she was the only woman in the world…”

Darrell suddenly found himself thinking about an old dream he’d given up on years ago. What would it be like to have a wife and children to come home to every night after a hard day’s work? What would it be like if he had a family to give his life purpose outside of his career?

Serena almost made him believe his old dream could possibly come true. For a while he’d believed it—until Jessica had shattered all those hopes once and for all. But Serena…she was definitely wife material. She went about preparing food for him as if he was a longtime friend…or even a lover. No doubt about it, she was completely different than Jessica or any other women he’d known. She had a caring, giving nature, and that nature could grow on him.

His brother had had a good woman in her, but he’d been too dumb to see that.

His loss
, Darrell thought.

Darrell lifted his glass of cold lemonade to his mouth at the same moment Serena ran the back of her hand over her forehead. Such a simple gesture, but it caused her close-fitting cotton shirt to hug her beautiful breasts, and just like that, Darrell’s mind drifted from a vague fantasy of family life to imagining that
Serena
was his wife, that it was
her
warm smile that would greet him every evening, her soft body he’d hold against his every night.

“Oh, damn,” Serena suddenly said. She met his eyes, and Darrell had to wonder if she’d read his thoughts. She continued, “I have no more jerk sauce. I hope you didn’t get your hopes up for jerk chicken.”

Her honest concern for what he would like and not like gave his heart a little lift. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy whatever you make.”

Serena went back to work, and Darrell actually stretched his feet out beneath the kitchen table and relaxed. And damn if it didn’t feel good to do that. In Orlando, he ran around all day, much like a chicken with its head cut off, so much so that he’d almost forgotten what the word
relax
meant.

Feeding ducks, having a woman to come home to…he could get used to this.

The moment of pleasure instantly soured, and he frowned. Who was he kidding? Yeah, it was a nice fantasy, but that’s all it was—a fantasy. Hadn’t his own mother proven that to him? That when you no longer got what you wanted or needed, you moved on without looking back? Darrell had seen what his mother’s blasé attitude had done to his father, and it was the last thing he wanted for his own life.

He’d almost made the same mistake with Jessica that his father had made with his mother.

“You want it a little spicy? Because I have some hot sauce, but it’s not the same as jerk.”

“However you like it,” Darrell replied.

“You’re easy to please,” Serena said, then giggled. Then she went back to work.

Darrell continued to watch her. There was a quality to
Serena, something he didn’t remember ever seeing in his mother or in Jessica, that made him think she’d be different.

Darrell’s stomach twisted into a painful knot. Even if Serena was different, and even if he wanted to delude himself into thinking she could be the one woman to make him happy, he couldn’t pretend that he could make
her
happy. From the way she talked, she wanted a husband and kids—the whole nine yards. Darrell had given up that dream ages ago. Hell, he was no good at being a father, that much he knew for sure. What did he have to offer her?

The whole direction of his thoughts made him anxious, and Darrell realized that sitting around doing nothing wasn’t helping him one bit. He needed something to occupy his mind and keep his thoughts from venturing to territory it shouldn’t go.

Standing, he strolled the short distance to where Serena was now bent over an open bottom cupboard. For a moment, he simply stared at her, at her round butt in the floral skirt she’d changed into, at the glimpse of her back between the skirt and shirt the view allowed. Why couldn’t he take his eyes off her?

Serena straightened, then saw him. Gasping, she threw a hand to her chest. “Goodness, you scared me.”

“Sorry.”

She got a peculiar look in her eye as she stared at him. “Did you want something?”

“Um…yeah.” Hell, yeah. He wanted to lift that skirt over her hips, run his hands along her smooth skin, slip his hands beneath her panties….

“Darrell?”

“Uh, sorry. I…” He cleared his throat. “I was wondering where I’m going to sleep tonight.”

“Oh. I have a guest bedroom. You’ll have to share it with some antique dolls, though.”

Dolls.
Why not with you?

“Darrell?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. God, what was wrong with him? “I figured I’d lie down for a minute.” He forced a yawn. “Until dinner’s ready.”

“You do seem a little tired. The bedroom’s the second door on the left.”

Darrell acknowledged her with a quick nod, then quickly left the kitchen.

He hurried to the spare bedroom, hoping that a quick nap would restore him with the lick of sense the good Lord had given him.

The next morning, Darrell’s mind was made up. He was heading back to Orlando, and the sooner the better. Not only had he come to the conclusion that he couldn’t help Cecil, he felt a measure of anxiety hanging around with Serena twenty-four/seven.

She was good and sweet and made him think of things he shouldn’t want.

A quick sweep of the bedroom told Darrell that there was nothing in here to write on. Between him, the dolls, the various trinkets, and what he believed was an antique fountain pen, there wasn’t a modern piece of paper on which he could jot a note. Not that he should leave a note for Serena—it was the coward’s way out—but he wasn’t sure he could stomach her disappointment when he told her he was leaving.

He exited the small bedroom and strolled to the living room, hoping to find a piece of paper and pen to write a note. He stopped short when he saw Serena sitting on the sofa with a thick photo album on her lap.

Hearing him, she looked up. “Hey,” she said softly, smiling.

So much for an easy getaway. “Hey, yourself. What’re you doing?”

“Looking through my family’s photo album.” She patted the spot next to her. “Come here. I want to show you this.”

Darrell moved across the room to the sofa, then sat beside her. She wore a terry-cloth robe that reached her mid-thigh, as well as a pair of fluffy white slippers. One leg was crossed over the other, allowing him a glimpse of chocolatey-smooth skin. Man, this was getting harder by the minute. Last night, she’d prepared him dinner as casually as if she’d done it a million times, and now, here she was dressed only in her robe, as if they’d woken up every morning together for the past several years.

“Darrell.”

His eyes flew to hers. “Huh?”

“I asked if you want any coffee. I can put on a pot.”

“Naw, I’m fine.” He was too wired to sleep. He glanced down at the open album. “That’s a huge photo album.”

“It’s got a lot of pictures. Many of them have been passed down from generations ago. I guess it’s kinda like a photographic family tree.”

“You can see without your glasses?” Darrell asked.

“I’m wearing my contacts,” Serena explained, then opened the album. “I wear them sometimes, though I prefer my glasses.”

The first picture was a grainy black and white photo of a well-dressed man who appeared to be in his early twenties. “Who’s that?”

“This is my great-grandfather, Devon Jackson.”

“Great grandfather. Wow. You actually have a picture of him?”

“It was taken in 1898, when he was seventeen years old. His father owned a few bakeries in upstate New York, so they were fairly well off.” Serena turned the page. “This is Ann-Marie Bennett, the woman Devon married. She’s my great-grandmother. And here they are on their wedding day.”

“I’m impressed.”

“The necklace dates back to my great-great-great-grandmother.” Serena flipped to the back of the photo album. “This is the only picture we have of her.”

Darrell looked down at the charcoal sketch. “This is amazing.”

Serena smiled. “Yeah. It’s really neat to be able to look back and see where you came from.”

“You kinda look like her. Your cheekbones. Your eyes.”

“Mmm hmm. Tilly Hancock. She was born a slave, but shortly after her birth, slavery was abolished. Her mother, Emily, tried to find her husband once she was free—he’d been sold before Tilly was born—but she never did find him.”

Darrell fingered the picture. “Tilly?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s fairly light-skinned. At least that’s the way it looks in the sketch.”

“There was some mixing along the lines. I think Tilly’s
grandmother was mulatto—the product of a slave master and his slave. You know how that goes.” Serena shook her head with chagrin. “Anyway, a little while after Emily and Tilly were free, they moved from the south to the north, somewhere in Ohio, from what I understand, where Emily got work as a maid. Apparently, her employer was very generous and Emily was able to save enough money to send Tilly to the university. During her first year at the New York Medical School for Women, Tilly met Armande Giroux, a man from Morocco. I’m not sure where they met, but as the story goes, the moment Armande saw her, he fell head-over-heels in love.”

A smile touched Darrell’s lips. “Like your parents.”

“Yeah, like my parents,” Serena agreed, a hint of nostalgia lacing her tone. “Unlike my mother, however, Tilly wasn’t interested in Armande. While Armande was olive-skinned and didn’t have the same attitude toward blacks that the average American did at the time, she was very proud of her heritage and planned to marry a black man. But as much as she rejected him, Armande eventually won her over with his charm. And get this, after he proposed, he told her that he was from a royal family. His wedding gift to her was a diamond-and-ruby necklace.”

“I can’t believe you know all this.”

“This is the story as it’s been told to me, and these are the pictures that go along with the history. I have the album because I’m the oldest, I guess. One day, I’ll pass the album and the necklace to my oldest daughter. It’s a tradition that my great-great-great-grandmother Tilly started, and I plan to keep it going.”

Serena turned the page. There was a yellowed black and
white wedding photo. “This is my great-great-grandmother, Amanda. I suppose she was named Amanda after her father, Armande. That’s kind of a sad story. Just a couple years into Armande’s and Tilly’s marriage, Armande got ill and died. Amanda was their only daughter, and Tilly never remarried. This is Amanda upon her marriage to Richard Jackson. They were Devon’s parents, the first picture you saw.” Serena turned the page. “I really should go through this and put the pictures in their proper order.”

She pointed to the color photo of an older woman. “This is my grandmother, Louisa May. And this is my grandfather, Maurice Childs, with my grandmother shortly before he died. He died a couple years before my parents did. Cancer. After my parents died, Grandma Louisa May raised us. She had three sons, no daughters. My father was her firstborn, and I was his firstborn daughter. Hence the necklace went to me.”

“What an impressive story.”

Serena closed the album and held it to her chest. Pride shone in her eyes. “Yes, it is. That’s why…” Her voice trailed off, ending on a sigh. “That’s why it’s so important for me to get the necklace back. It’s not just a necklace, Darrell. It represents my family’s history.”

She sighed softly, and for a moment, Darrell wondered if she would cry. But she didn’t. She remained strong, though this whole situation must be tearing her apart. Now, Darrell understood how much.

For her, losing the necklace was like losing a very real piece of her.

“Here are my parents,” Serena said. Once again, she had the album open, this time to the photo of an attractive couple on their wedding day. “They died in a boating acci
dent, and in so many ways I feel I never got to know them. Maybe that’s why this album is so important to me.”

When Serena closed the album again and looked up at him, her eyes were filled with tears. “I miss my grandmother so much. She died last year of a stroke. She was only seventy-three. I’m glad I had her for so many years. And the necklace…it’s the one special connection I had to my grandmother and our history.”

“My brother,” Darrell said suddenly. “You told him what you told me? You showed him this album?”

Brushing a stray tear, Serena nodded.

“Hey.” Darrell didn’t think, he acted. He stretched an arm around Serena and pulled her close.

“I didn’t mean to get emotional,” Serena said. “It’s just that…looking through this album, seeing all the pictures…”

“I know,” Darrell said. He pressed his cheek against her hair, and the perfumed scent of the shampoo she’d used wafted into his nose. It was distinctly feminine, and he suddenly wanted to run his fingers through her hair, hold her close, and tell her that everything would be all right.

While Darrell had planned to tell her that he was leaving this morning, he no longer had the heart to do that to her. He couldn’t leave. He owed it to Serena to get the necklace back. Deep in his heart, he knew he wasn’t truly responsible, but Cecil was his blood, and if his blood had robbed her of so much, then he couldn’t rest until he’d made everything right again.