The Pleasure's All Mine (34 page)

Eric lifted her head, cupping her face in his hands. “We can still do that, you know?”

“I guess.” Her hand flew to cover her mouth. “Oh, Eric, your mother will have a stroke!”

Eric pulled away, wiping the tears from her face. “Why do you think I haven’t said anything yet?”

“When did you plan on telling us?”

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged, “When the baby came? The return of the Messiah? Another cosmic shift in consciousness?”

“That’s not funny, Eric.” Then she froze and glared at him. “Oh God! You married without a prenup!”

“No, no, wait. I do have a prenuptial agreement.” He reached for his wallet and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. “I do listen to you.”

“Only when it suits you,” she shot back and took the paper. “ ‘One-third of my current assets to my mother, Raven Ripley; one-third to my lovely wife, Marie Wright Ripley; a portion to St. Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital…’ “ Ava laughed to keep from crying. “Eric, this isn’t a prenup; it’s a will!”

His grin disappeared. “Marie was the one who insisted on doing it. She’s not after my money. Will it hold up in court?”

“Your signature, her signature, four witnesses, yes, it will. As a
will.
”

Eric beamed. “See, I did good.”

“We need to do an official
prenup
, Eric.”

“It won’t be a problem. I told Marie that we might have to do another one. She’s cool with it.”

“How many weeks along is she?”

“Two and a half.”

“Where’d you honeymoon?”

He instantly became serious. “We had two nights in a little bed and breakfast outside of Vicksburg where her grandparents live. They’re proud of her, and they like me, too.” He popped his collar. “I mean, what’s not to like?”

“Uh oh, the old Eric is back,” Pierce said with a chuckle.

“Do they know about the baby?” Ava asked, her eyes still moist.

He shook his head. “We just found out.”

Pierce glowered at Ava, trying to make eye contact and get a message across. “So are we going out to celebrate?”

“Oh, yes, congratulations on your nuptials,” she said with a small smile, hugging him to her as she grimaced at Pierce over Eric’s shoulder. “But you’ll need to do it right—and legal. Maybe a proper ceremony on your
real
birthday.”

Eric looked up at Pierce and winked. “This was just to show you how it’s done. Fall in love, whisk her down the aisle,
then
the bedroom. I thought y’all would get married in Hawaii.”

Pierce frowned, glared openly at the young man. “Not everyone does things quite the same.”

“So are you saying you’re not going to do right by my mother?”

Ava folded her arms across her full bosom and smiled.

Pierce’s eyebrows shot up. “What I’m saying is that a certain
almost
eighteen-year-old needs to stay out of grown-folks’ business.”

“Hey, I’m married now.” Eric proudly flashed his wedding band. “I’m grown-folks, too.”

“Marriage does not make you grown,” Pierce countered, rubbing the younger man’s shoulder. “Can you enter into a legal contract without representation?”

“No, and technically neither should you.”

“He’s got a point,” Ava quipped with a wry smile.

Pierce glowered at her. “Hey, whose side are you on here?”

“Mine.” She rubbed her stomach. “And it’s your treat.”

Pierce grumbled, “Just like a lawyer.”

“What about, Steve?” Eric asked, following his mentor to the hallway. “I left him alone with the next round of screechers.”

“Whose bright idea was it to sell my shares so early?”

“His!”

“We’re outta here.”

❤ ❤ ❤

Later that evening, Pierce and Eric took Ava to the airport. As they walked back to the SUV, Pierce demanded, “Whose funeral is it, Eric?”

The young man stayed silent so long Pierce thought he wasn’t going to answer. “My grandmother’s.”

Pierce drew in a sharp breath. Raven hadn’t called! She really didn’t love him—not even the little bit she had claimed in Hawaii. That must have been the orgasms talking.

“So what are you going to do?” Eric asked him, slipping into the passenger seat and buckling up.

“You’ve done your part—stay out of it. Raven and I will just have to find common ground.”

The young man slumped down in the seat, lips poked out a little.

“I’m proud of you and respect the decision you made,” Pierce said, watching Eric relax. “But I wonder, if you didn’t have a health challenge, would you have done things quite the same way?”

“I might have taken liberties with some things and gotten away with others.” His grin made Pierce laugh. “But, I’d like to think that I would’ve wanted things to happen the same way they turned out. I promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn’t have sex before marriage—especially after the way my father treated my mother.”

Pierce nodded.

“And then I came dangerously close to not keeping that promise—that scared me. Really scared me. I thought I had…you know…better control, but…it was like something kicked into high gear. I wanted sex so bad I almost hit the strip and paid for it.”

Pierce let out a low whistle.

“I just didn’t want my first time to be with someone who didn’t care about me. And I love Marie—and we might not have much time. That’s why I convinced her to run off and do it. It was reaching a point where I couldn’t trust myself around her, and I didn’t like that feeling.” Then he released a satisfied sigh as he shifted comfortably in the seat. “I’m telling you one thing—now I can actually think straight.”

Which was more than Pierce could say. He was missing Raven something wicked. She had filled almost every waking thought—which was most of the time since sleep still eluded him. He couldn’t get her out of his mind: her laugh, her walk, her voice, her feel, her taste.

“So why didn’t you use a condom?”

Eric had the gall to look sheepish. “It was my first time. I wanted to, you know…at least once without it.”

“Hmph.”

“She had started the pill, but I guess it was that one percent that got us. Or maybe she wasn’t on long enough.” His expression went blank. “I’m going to be a Dad.”

“Yes, you are.”

Eric’s lips tightened. “And I’m scared. Suppose I’m like my father? How can a man walk away from his own flesh and blood? Suppose it’s genetic? His father walked out on him, too. Just got fed up and left my grandmother to fend for herself with five children.”

Pierce chose his words carefully. “Eric, you’re not like your father, by any stretch of the imagination, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“He didn’t have any control, either.”

“When it comes to sex, a lot of men don’t have control.” Pierce remembered that only too well. He got hard just thinking about Raven. Her lips, her breasts, her hips, how tight…

“Present company included?”

“That’s none of your business,” he growled, adjusting his pant leg.

Eric actually blushed as Pierce laughed. “Since I met Marie, I’ve thought a lot about him. My father.”

“Why don’t you give him a call?”

Eric shrugged. “He won’t want to hear from me.”

“He’s about to be a grandfather; I think he might. Maybe he’s done some growing up, too.”

Eric’s lips lifted into a hopeful smile. “You think so?”

“It’s always a possibility. Either way, you’ll know for certain, and that’s what’s important.”

“I’ve also been thinking, maybe I should…”

Pierce frowned. “Should what?”

“Maybe I should go ahead and have the surgery.” His eyes were as wide as saucers. Then he took several breaths, trying to remain calm. “It was different when I had only me to think about.”

“What about your mother?”

“That’s different; she’s had a long time to get used to it. She’s strong. She’ll survive.”

Pierce placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not so sure about that. Now I understand why she’s so sad sometimes, so distant. She might not let it show, but your decision affects her. That’s why she fears getting too close to anyone. Being apart isn’t all about me.”

Eric rubbed his chin as he absorbed that. “The thought of someone splitting my skull and poking around, or the idea that a flick of the wrist could make me a vegetable, has given me nightmares.”

Pierce winced.

“I can’t sleep because the images are so vivid…I just…man…if there was another way, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I never knew becoming a parent could change so much.”

Pierce merely nodded, knowing he might never know what Eric meant. Even though he’d always planned to adopt, the process for single men was full of red tape.

“And I’d like you to be the godfather.”

“Godfather?” Pierce smiled, warmed by Eric’s trust. “I’d like that. So when are you going to tell Raven?”

“Oh, maybe…never.” He nodded as though trying to convince himself. “Never works for me.”

Pierce roared with laughter.

“I’m going to fly back home early tomorrow for the funeral, give Mom some time, then bring Marie to Chicago. It’s not the sort of news she should hear over the phone.” He nudged Pierce’s side. “You know, you should come home with me.”

“Raven made it all too clear that she didn’t want to see me again. I don’t think now is a good time to push the issue.”

“You’ll be coming to help me.”

Pierce grinned. “I’ll think about it.”

“Cool. Now let’s talk about that marriage, honeymoon thing.”

This time, Pierce sighed as he put the truck in gear. “Eric, give it a rest.”

Rain. It would rain today of all days. Raven picked Eric up from O’Hare and headed for the church. She had thought she would be early, but a large group had already congregated at St. Thomas, and more streamed in behind her. The wooden pews, dark brown and old enough to make a great bonfire, were filled to capacity. The pulpit overflowed with ministers from nearly every religious denomination. She checked the annex; it, too, was full.

The flowers on either side of the gold and white casket were as beautiful and vibrant as any Raven had seen. She and Eric hurriedly passed out the programs. As Raven made her way to the front, she scanned the area. The front pews were filled with family—some from as far west as Petaluma, California, and as far east as Manhattan. Anita and Lorrie waved. Raven waved back.

She walked to her mother to pay her last respects. Her mother’s once-gorgeous honey skin was so dark brown, she was damn near unrecognizable. What had they done to her? Raven reached over and dabbed a handkerchief on her mother’s nose to stem the small pool of liquid gathering there. The funeral director had told her that this might happen because of Jaylon’s fleshy frame.

“Mom, what are you doing?” Eric whispered, trying to pull her hand back.

“Now you know she would want me to do this. She was the queen of pointing out those little problems for other people.”

Eric nodded knowingly.

Her mother’s body, or “the costume,” as Eric had called it, was just a shell for the animated spirit that once lived inside. A spirit which now hovered nearby to listen to all the last words and testaments, and to watch over Kayla and Manny who would need her now more than ever.

Raven couldn’t fit in the row for immediate family, so she picked a spot near the rear where she could stand and watch everything. She knew many of the people from all the times her mother dragged her from church to church on Sundays. Some of the women’s faces brought back memories of their culinary specialties: Ms. Greene’s famous no-trips-to-the-toilet macaroni and cheese, Ms. Burge’s buttery cornbread dressing, Ms. Howard’s you’ll-hear-from-me-later red beans and rice with smoked turkey tails, and Ms. Slaughter’s homemade banana pudding. Raven smiled at each woman, relishing the pleasant memories. She had always had a fondness for good choirs, good food and a good sermon—although not necessarily in that order.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Janetta flitting from person to person, whispering to people as she collected pastel envelopes. Raven sighed. She looked away from her sister, who had dared to come to the church with torn clothes, no stockings, and without even bothering to oil her ashy legs. Raven prayed that her sister was at least wearing panties, but given her history, that might be too much to ask.
Lord, I need your strength…

A deep, familiar voice resonated behind her. “Raven, you look beautiful.”

She turned slowly and faced the man whose last name she bore. She replied simply, “Thank you,” and tried to move away.

“Raven?”

She turned back. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yes, I know that,” she said through clenched teeth.

James Ripley’s somewhat pleasant smile took an instant downturn. “You aren’t my daughter.”

“I’m quite aware of that, but instead of being a man and leaving my mother because you weren’t happy, or because she was unfaithful, you made it all about the fact that she was pregnant with
me.
”

He winced and looked around to see if anyone had heard her.

She moved closer, keeping her voice low so she wouldn’t make a scene. “Do you know how it felt every time you came by and completely ignored me? You only
assumed
I wasn’t your daughter. You didn’t know for sure. I look just like her! But you were so hell-bent on getting out, that you used
me
as a scapegoat. Do you know what that did to me? You twisted the knife a little deeper with every visit, every holiday.”

James quickly scanned left and right. People were starting to turn their way. He said nothing.

Raven saw Eric and Ava moving toward her. She looked back at him. “So you don’t have to apologize, James Ripley. It’s okay that I’m not your daughter. Your children are what? A prostitute? Three times divorced? And your younger children are a drug dealer and felon? And oh, let’s not forget that your baby girl is a stripper.” She held up a hand to stem his protest. “Excuse me—an exotic dancer. And I’m what? Just a national bestselling author, publisher, CEO of my own company. Maybe the genes did have something to do with it, and I’m certain now that I should be glad that I don’t have any of yours.”