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  Tearing her eyes away from the decade-old image, she placed the frame back into the box. Shaking her head, she stood. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? There’s too much work to be done around here. Plus Mom needs me.”

  Her older cousin waved her off. “Imani, please. I was on the career warpath too when I met Frederick.” Her eyes softened wistfully as she spoke of her husband of five years. “I thought I didn’t have time. But he showed me different.”

  Imani closed her eyes, feeling the headache coming on. “Maya, this isn’t the same thing.”

  “No, it isn’t, because this time, it’s your happiness at stake.” A small smile graced her face as she placed a gentle hand on Imani’s shoulder. “Don’t push him away just yet. He might be the one.”

  That said, Maya gathered the hammer and nails she’d used for the picture hanging and left the room.

  In the silence, Imani blew out a pent-up breath. Xavier was playing hardball for her heart, she could see. His unexpected gift, while touching, did not guarantee him a place in her heart. He was a champion lover, that much she could admit. But he seemed determined to use their past together as a way back into her life. So many things had happened since the days they’d been a couple, the memories were fuzzy at best.

  One particular memory, though, stood out clearly in her mind. The day she’d left for college, when he’d broken up with her. He’d come to her as she climbed into her car, declaring that it was best if they split up so they could “experience life.” She’d known then, just as she knew now, what that really meant. It was code for “I want to date other people. I’m not in love with you anymore.” Despite Xavier’s efforts to rationalize what he’d done, she’d been devastated.

  Her cousin’s words echoed in her mind. She’d do her best not to hurt his feelings, but she had to look out for her own interests. Surrendering to him could mean losing focus on all the things she held dear, and she would not allow that to happen.

  Within the hour, they finished placing everything where she wanted it. After a final sweep through each exam room, office, and restroom to make sure it all was in order, she smiled. “Well, Maya, looks like we can finally get out of here and enjoy the weekend.”

  Maya busted out with the cabbage patch, followed by the running man, chanting, “We finished, we finished.”

  All Imani could do was chuckle as she watched her cousin’s celebratory dances. “Come on. Let’s get out of here so the cleaning crew can do their thing.”

  As they edged out, the three-woman cleaning crew came inside. They would be responsible for scrubbing the floors and otherwise getting things sanitary for the opening of the practice. Leaving instructions with them to lock up on their way out, Imani and Maya stepped out into the chilly October evening.

  “What are you doing this weekend?” Maya asked as she unlocked the door to her car.

  Imani shrugged. “Just resting up and hanging out with Mom before the opening Monday.”

  “Well, I’ll see you then. Later, Cuz.” Maya slipped into the driver’s seat.

  “Later.” She got into her own car and followed her cousin out of the parking lot.

  On the way home, she let her Ledisi CD play and tried to relax. She realized she’d left the photo Xavier had sent on the reception desk but decided not to go back for it. It wasn’t as if she’d planned to spend the weekend staring at it and pining for yesterday.

  Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Xavier wasn’t going to let this thing go. When she arrived at the apartment she was renting near Cameron Village, she slipped inside and locked the door behind her. Everywhere she looked, thoughts of Xavier were waiting for her. After a steamy shower, she flopped down on the couch to watch some television. When she settled on a music video channel, a familiar tune filled the space.

  It was an old Monica song, “For You I Will.”

  Hearing the opening notes of that song made her utter a very unladylike curse.

  It made her recall a night many years ago when she’d given her virginity to Xavier. They’d both been fumbling teenagers, but he’d been so gentle and respectful. Her eyes slid closed, and as the song’s lilting melody swirled around her, so did the memories. She remembered his warm, questing caress…the way he’d kissed her body…the way she’d wept when he took her fully.

  When the video mercifully ended, she hastily changed the channel. Needing a distraction to regain her composure, she flipped to a cable news network. The talk about the upcoming elections was sure to bore her to sleep, so she settled in to let the talking heads work their magic.

  * * *

  As services ended Sunday afternoon, Imani accompanied her mother out of the sanctuary at Greenview Baptist Church. She always dressed conservatively for services and had chosen a simple eggplant sheath dress and a black overcoat. She’d fashioned her hair in a low bun, donned a pair of pearl studs, and deemed herself ready.

  Her mother, however, believed church was an opportunity to “put on finery for the Lord.” Moving slowly with the aid of her cane, Alma still carried herself like a true lady and mother of the church. She wore a carefully pressed, dove-gray suit and flats. Her matching hat, a confection of white silk flowers and feathers, was perched atop her close-cut hair at just the right angle.

  After stopping in the vestibule to greet a few friends and Pastor Williams, they made their way out into the early-afternoon sunshine. Despite the brightness of the day, the air held the chill of October, and a few windswept leaves of gold and orange swept past them as they crossed the parking lot to Imani’s car.

  The ride to Alma’s house in historic Oakwood took them through downtown, past the state capitol building. The Greek revival-style building, constructed in 1840, had been the site of many childhood field trips, and Imani knew most of the monuments like the back of her hand.

  Pulling into Alma’s driveway, she helped her mother out of the car and followed her up the three steps to the porch. As Alma unlocked the door, Imani turned at the sound of an engine. Seeing the person parking in the driveway, she sucked in a breath.

  Alma simply smiled. “Looks like Xavier’s a little early.”

  She could feel her nervousness rising, but she held the door as her mother went inside, then waited by the screen door. She’d known since she came home that Xavier would be there for Sunday dinner, but she’d hoped she would be more prepared when the time came. After last night’s chance encounter with that old song and the memories it triggered, she needed a moment to get herself together. She didn’t want their meal to be awkward.

  He stepped up on the porch, and she drew a deep, calming breath. He’d probably been to service with his parents at the Methodist church around the block, closer to where the Whitteds lived. He wore a well-tailored, dark-blue suit, royal-blue shirt, and blue-and-black printed tie. The black dress shoes on his feet were shined and polished, and she tried to focus on her reflection in them, so she wouldn’t have to look into his eyes.

  To her dismay, he used a gentle finger to lift her chin. “I said, hello, Imani.”

  The low timbre of his voice stroked her much like his caress, and she realized she hadn’t heard his initial greeting. She nodded and murmured a greeting in response. “Hi, Xavier.”

  An amused look on his face, he asked, “Is there something particularly interesting about my feet?”

  She closed her eyes and willed herself to calm down. “Nice shoes,” she said, trying to keep her tone casual.

  “Thanks.” He held the screen door open. “After you, sweets.”

  She did her best to ignore the term of endearment he’d called her in high school and strode past him into the house.

  Inside, she expected him to sit down on her mother’s pink chintz sofa and wait to be summoned when the food was ready. As if he were at home, he followed her into the kitchen. She cut her eyes at him, but he didn’t seem to notice.


  The kitchen hadn’t changed much since she was a teen. The light-blue striped wallpaper, blue tiled floor, and her mom’s collection of china teapots held memories of those days, some she wished she could dismiss. Her eyes fell on the old butcher-block table occupying its usual corner. She recalled sitting on that table, stealing kisses with Xavier on many occasions.

  Alma had changed into a blue floral housedress and was tending a pot of fragrant turnip greens on the stove. “I made an extra pie for you to take home, Xavier,” she said as she added a bit of garlic to the pot. She’d already set glasses of iced lemonade on the table.

  Xavier’s smile was wide and gorgeous. “I appreciate that, Ma Alma.”

  “Sit on down. The food will be ready in a minute.” Alma continued her task, humming a tune.

  Xavier pulled out a chair for Imani. She held back a sigh. There were so many unresolved feelings swirling around inside her, and seeing Xavier only made her feel more out of sorts. Rather than be rude in front of her mother, she sat. An instant later, he took a seat in the chair next to hers. Hanging her coat on the back of her chair, she rested her clasped hands on the tabletop and waited.

  After Alma set plates filled with the turnip greens, roasted chicken, and buttered cornbread before them, Xavier volunteered to say grace. Imani closed her eyes and bowed her head.

  “Dear Lord, for this food and the many blessings You have given us, we are truly thankful. We pray that You will feed the hungry, bless the poor, and soften the hearts of all Your children. Amen.”

  When he’d finished and she opened her eyes, Imani found him watching her intently. It occurred to her that his prayer for the “softening of hearts” was probably directed at her. Vowing not to let things get awkward, she started in on her meal.

  A few moments passed in silence as they enjoyed the well-seasoned food. She raised her glass to drink the lemonade just as Xavier opened his mouth.

  “Ma Alma, you know I intend on being your son-in-law.”

  The tart lemonade hit a speed bump on the journey down her throat as he spoke the words. The next thing she knew, she was coughing and gripping her chest.

  Alma patted her back with a look of concern. “You all right, baby?”

  Wiping her mouth with a napkin from the ceramic holder on the table, she nodded. A glance at Xavier showed him hiding a smile behind his own napkin.

  As Imani glared at him, Alma said, “I’d be honored to have you, Xavier. And, Imani, stop scowling at the man.”

  She knew there was no point in arguing with her mother, so she turned her focus back to her plate.

  Xavier continued. “I don’t think she’s going to make it easy for me.”

  “That’s my baby. Stubborn as an old mule.” Alma popped a piece of cornbread into her mouth.

  Listening to them talk about her as if she weren’t in the room got old very quickly. When her plate was finally empty, she stood. “Excuse me,” she announced, and left the room as fast as her feet would carry her.

  Upstairs, she went into her old bedroom and locked the door behind her. In the adjoining bathroom, she bent over the pedestal sink and splashed some cold water over her face. She couldn’t shake the memories of their weekend at Georgia’s wedding, but she knew deep down inside that their relationship could go no further. Her past held secrets, things she knew would harm his political aspirations. Aside from that, her father’s violent death still haunted her. She was sure her mother still felt that pain as well. How could she get serious about someone who spent so much time with the kind of kids who’d left her fatherless and had widowed her dear mother? Despite her best efforts to keep things casual, Xavier had to go and ruin everything. If he could have kept his big mouth shut, they could have all enjoyed a nice dinner.

  Looking at her reflection in the oval-shaped mirror, she laughed bitterly. Xavier might think he was enamored with her now, but he had no idea what she’d been up to while she was away at school. No one knew other than Maya, and Imani planned to keep it that way. She was nearly certain that if he knew, he’d turn tail and run, especially if he wanted to win his campaign for the city council.

  The fact was Xavier was looking for an Imani who no longer existed.

  * * *

  As Xavier watched Imani run off, he wished he’d been more subtle about declaring his desire for her. He looked across the mahogany pedestal table to Alma, who had a knowing smile on her face.

  “Go on up there. Just don’t make her mad, or she’ll smack you for sure.” Alma’s brown eyes held kindness and humor as she spoke.

  He nodded, rose from the table, and made his way up the stairs. When he reached her bedroom door, he rapped on the heavy, whitewashed wood.

  “Yes?” Her voice was soft, and it sounded as if she might have been crying.

  “Can I come in?”

  Silence.

  “Imani, please, let me talk to you for a minute.”

  She finally responded, but her tone was less than welcoming. “If I do, will you leave me alone?”

  He shook his head. She rarely gave an inch, but he still cared for her. “If that’s what you want.”

  He could hear her moving toward the door, and it swung open a moment later. Arms folded across her chest, she stood back a bit so he could enter.

  Even though she wore a disapproving frown, she was still a beauty. The low-key jewelry and barely there makeup allowed her ethereal loveliness to shine through unhindered. He preferred her hair down but understood why she’d bound it for church. She was the product of a Southern Baptist upbringing.

  Her dress, as solid and practical as she was, hugged her curvy frame, showcasing the hollow of her neck, the swell of her breasts, and the roundness of her hips. Looking at her made him harbor thoughts that were very inappropriate for a Sunday, especially while they stood in her mother’s house.

  She was watching him, he realized. “I thought you wanted to talk?”

  He smiled. “I do. Did you get the package I sent?”

  She nodded. “I did. Thank you.”

  He noted that she didn’t appear moved by the gift in the least. “Did you like it?”

  She shrugged, her face an emotionless mask.

  Her indifferent show might have fooled someone else, but he knew her better. “My queen, when are you going to step outside of your ice palace?”

  The angry flash in her eyes would have frightened a lesser man. “Xavier, what are you up to? I don’t have time for games right now.” She flopped down on the edge of her bed.

  “This isn’t a game, Imani. Not to me. I know I screwed things up, but I want the chance to redeem myself.” He walked over to where she sat, careful not to encroach too much on her personal space.

  “I thought we talked about this. Weren’t we going to take things slow?”

  He shifted his weight from left to right. “That was the plan. But as you know, plans sometimes change.”

  She dropped her head forward, directed her gaze at the floor. “Xavier. We can’t get too serious right now. I mean, everything is so new. I’ve got my practice; you’ve got your business and your work with the kids…” She didn’t finish the sentence, letting her voice trail off.

  He ran a hand over his hair. “Okay, Imani. I see what you’re saying.”

  She looked up, her eyes filled with emotion. “Then you understand what we have to do.”

  With a wry smile, he nodded. “I get it. We’ll keep it nice and casual.”

  Her breath escaped her lips on a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

  Seeing her there, atop the pale-pink bedspread he’d once made love to her on, gave him pause. He was pretty sure her mother didn’t know about that hot summer evening following their senior year. Alma had been in church, and Xavier had been doing his best to persuade Imani, in the most intimate way possible, to go to a local college.

  Shaki
ng off the memories of that day, he watched her. She looked conflicted, torn. And while his mouth had agreed with her request to keep things casual between them, he knew his heart could not comply. He respected her and would do his best not to press her or make her uncomfortable. But with slow, deliberate actions, he would show her why she should give him a chance. He would do anything in his power to feel her in his arms again.

  Imani embodied all the qualities he craved to help balance his life. No other woman he’d encountered had affected him the way she did. His ex, Jess, had been physically beautiful but a harpy inside. With Jess, he’d been foolish enough to allow his focus on her appearance to cloud his judgment. Never again. Imani, his Imani, presented the total package: grace, intelligence, kindness, and beauty. He knew Imani would always tell him the truth and that she’d never betray him the way Jess had.

  A fat tear spilled down her cheek, and she dashed it away. “You think you know everything about me, Xavier, but you don’t.”

  Seeing her cry tugged at him so strongly, he risked her wrath by touching her cheek gently. “I know enough, sweets.”

  She looked up at him, and the pain in her chocolate eyes was so vivid, he could almost touch it. “Xavier, please. Just go.” Her voice was pleading and strained with unshed tears.

  He had no idea why she was so upset, but if she really wanted him to leave, he couldn’t remain. “All right,” he acquiesced. As he eased toward the door, he glanced back at her. She’d lain down and was curled up in a ball, clutching a pink satin throw pillow. He gazed at her a few moments longer, then quietly slipped from the room, closing the door behind him.

  Downstairs, he thanked Alma for the delicious food and took his foil-wrapped pie with him to the car. He’d been coming to Alma’s for Sunday dinner for several months now, favoring it over his parents’ traditional Sunday dinner and bridge game at his uncle and aunt’s home. Now, he wondered if he should stop coming. Imani was home now, so Alma wouldn’t be alone. Also, his presence seemed to cause her a great deal of distress, but he didn’t know why. Imani had always been complicated and stubborn, but he couldn’t recall her ever being this sensitive. Something was obviously bothering her, and he wanted to fix it more than anything. But with no way of knowing what the problem was, he had no idea how to help.