Brad, page 4
An hour later, her hip twinging with a dull ache, she stood in the middle of the room and inspected the shelves. Using her artist’s eye, she made a few changes, shifted some things around, then set the empty boxes by the door.
She walked to her desk and slid into the chair. The leather arms felt smooth under her hands. She brushed her palm over the empty desk pad and smiled. This move felt right. It felt good. As the years had gone by, she’d watched Tyrone’s parole date move closer and closer, and knew she’d have to leave Savannah. The idea of running into him on the street or in the grocery store or anywhere else filled her with terror. Everywhere she looked for a job, either within Dixon Contracting or without, no city felt right except Atlanta.
Using her ID, she logged into the computer system and synced the new tablet with her laptop and the desktop, making sure all the screens worked, separately and together. She felt a sense of giddy excitement at all the new and shiny electronics and technology around her. She noticed that the IT department had already transferred her internal files to this location, and she worked her way through her calendar to make sure all the meetings and conferences that had been set up in Savannah before her decision to move had been canceled or reassigned to the architects who had taken over her projects.
Just as she closed everything down in preparation to leave for lunch, she heard a tap on her door. “Come in,” she called loudly enough for her voice to carry to the door at the other end of the room.
The door opened and in walked…Jon? Maybe Ken? Either way, a grin crossed her face. “Hello!”
“Hi, sunshine,” her greeter said. Definitely Jon, ever the charmer. “Aren’t you a sight?”
“Jon!” With a laugh, she accepted his friendly hug. “What a treat. I guess I knew I’d be working with Brad, but some part of my mind assumed you and Ken would be out and about.”
“Sometimes we are. Right now, we’re both in town. I’m just recently back, actually.” He slipped his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants. She couldn’t help but compare his black collared shirt stitched with the red Dixon Contracting logo to Brad, three floors above her, who had on a gray suit with a sharp red tie. “Mom sent me here to invite you to dinner tonight. She said she’d call you, but she didn’t know your new office number.”
Valerie pulled her phone out of her pocket to make sure she hadn’t missed any calls. “She could have called my cell.”
“Uh, we’re talking about my mother,” Jon said dryly. “She doesn’t call cells if you’re anywhere near, and I quote, a ‘real phone.’”
Valerie laughed comfortably, feeling the years melt away. “I will definitely be there for dinner. What time?”
“She’s working around a meeting dad and Brad have tonight, so it will be a little later. Maybe seven?”
Later worked better for her, for no reason other than she wouldn’t have to contend with the Atlanta traffic right after work. “That sounds great. I’ll be able to get a lot done between now and then.”
“Great. I’ll see you there.” He stepped backward and put his hand on the door. “Let me know if you need to follow me or anything. I know it’s been a while since you came out to the house.”
After he left, she gathered her purse and keys, and went to find the best place to grab lunch. She hoped to find something in easy walking distance. She ignored the stares of the people on her floor. Curiosity about the new girl prompted the glances, she knew. She also knew that some of them knew her from Savannah and had some idea about what had happened. Perhaps some of the stares were people trying to see a scar, or a limp, or some other sign of distress that would give them an opening to whisper behind their hands while they relived her personal terror from four years ago.
Determined not to let any of those thoughts show, she put a smile on her face, waved a few times, and made it to the elevator without totally collapsing.
Ever since she moved out of Tyrone’s apartment and into her own, she had a hard time with change. A disruption in her schedule or plans threw her out of whack. It caused anxiety that manifested with scattered thoughts, dizziness, pounding heart. She knew she would feel out of sorts until she got used to the routine here, until the new became normal. The intellectual knowledge helped a little bit, but it didn’t stop the anxiety attack from manifesting. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths through her nose, let them out slowly through her mouth, envisioning herself standing in the doorway of a grass hut looking out onto the warm sand and gently rolling surf.
By the time she reached the ground floor, she felt more centered. She entered the moderately busy lobby with confidence. As she started toward the front doors, she smelled grilled bread. Her stomach rumbled in response and she glanced around, seeing the sign pointing to the café. Instead of heading out onto the street, she turned and walked past the guard desk and through the glass doors into the café area.
At lunchtime, the place bustled with traffic and noise. She maneuvered her way around little round tables and fellow Dixon Contracting employees and made her way to the back of the line. As she inched forward, she glanced through the menu hanging above the cashier. Everything sounded good and was made with local, fresh ingredients. By the time she made it to the front of the line, she’d settled on a sweet potato hash with a poached egg and fresh spring greens tossed with a light vinaigrette.
Once she placed her order, she stepped to the side to wait for it to come to the counter.
“Fancy meeting you here,” a deep voice said in her ear.
Her heart froze in panic a split second before she turned and saw Ken. He had on a black T-shirt with the red Dixon Contracting logo over the pocket. He looked like he could have used a haircut about two weeks ago. Putting a hand on her heart, she laughed and nudged his shoulder. “Goodness. Don’t sneak up on me like that, Ken.”
“Sorry to scare you, Val.” She could see the contrite look in his eyes and immediately felt bad for overreacting.
“It’s okay. I think I was lost in my own head.” She gestured at the counter. “When did y’all put a restaurant in?”
He pursed his lips. “Three years ago, I think. It’s just easier for everyone. We bought the building across the road on this side of the building and installed the IT department there, which freed up this entire area.”
She thought of the massive amount of equipment that they would have had to move across the street. “Did you have to dig the street up for the cabling?”
He laughed, and his eyes wrinkled with laugh lines. “It’s so much fun to work here and to talk to people who think like me.”
Ken nodded to the woman on the other side of the counter who held out a paper bag to him. He took it but kept talking to Valerie. “Yeah. We dug up the road and ran the cables. Actually created an underground culvert that would even allow us to send someone in there if we have to. It was stupidly expensive, but it beats having to get a backhoe every time we need to repair a cable or update the system.”
He pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket and fielded a text. “Ah. Have to run. Got a meeting.” He started to turn away but stopped and looked at her again. “Mom said you’re coming tonight?”
“Yes. Dinner. Seven.”
“Awesome. See you then, Val. You look amazing, by the way.”
Waving him off and laughing, she accepted her tray of food and found an empty table. As she sat down, it occurred to her that she’d greeted Brad with a polite handshake and business talk. Jon and Ken had come to her with hugs and lifelong friendship. Would she ever relax around him, or would she always feel clumsy and foolish, flushed with a crush that he did not reciprocate?
Determined to try to work it out later, she picked up her fork and took a bite of the hash, enjoying the flavors, glad for her choice of meal.
An overwhelming sense of coming home flood Valerie’s heart as she stepped into the grand hall. She looked at the floor, thrilled to find the giant vintage compass rose on the cream tile floor exactly where she remembered. The dark blue compass bordered with glittery gold shone in the light of the chandelier. A round table that held a huge vase of white roses and greenery sat on the center of the compass. She knew the flowers came directly from Rosaline Dixon’s rose garden, and she walked forward to put her face close to the blooms and breathe in the fragrance. The smell of roses always reminded her of Auntie Rose. Nostalgic tears threatened to fall. When she heard footsteps on the tile, she took a moment to compose herself before raising her head.
“Mama picked those this morning,” a grinning and very male baritone voice said. As she came around the table, Valerie spotted Ken.
She smiled and said, “Hello again, Ken.”
His tight grin suddenly showed some teeth. “Only you and my parents have ever been able to do that consistently. Other than my brothers, of course.”
She approached him with confidence and hugged him. “It’s great to be here.”
“Of course, it is,” he said, hugging her back. “This is your home.”
He led the way to the sitting room on the west side of the hall. In a house full of men, Rosaline had claimed this one room as hers and made it entirely feminine. Cream-colored couches with a mauve rose pattern and gleaming mahogany wood tables formed a comfortable sitting area. A piano sat near the window and framed art showcasing dried flowers graced the walls. The patio doors opened onto Rosaline’s rose garden, and Valerie knew from experience that if she stepped out onto that patio, the sweet fragrance of flowers would fill the spring night.
Rosaline, dressed in a white blouse tucked into a purple skirt accented with a purple and pink scarf tied around her waist, rushed toward Valerie, her arms outstretched. “I’m so happy you’re here!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around her. “Welcome home!”
Valerie couldn’t help but grin as she embraced her pseudo-mother. “No one is happier than I am,” she said. “I didn’t realize how much I missed this place until I smelled the roses in the hall.”
Jon came into the room, typing into his phone as he walked. When he looked up, the distracted, concentrated look on his face evaporated and he smiled at Valerie. “Hello again,” he greeted, “welcome home.”
After hugging Jon with the same enthusiasm she’d given his brother, she settled onto one of the couches and felt every muscle in her body release tension she didn’t even realize she carried around with her. “I can’t believe how much is still the same,” she said, looking around and recognizing so many of the furnishings and pictures. “I’d have redecorated a dozen times by now. This is such a great room with great light.”
Rosaline laughed. “You’re the interior designer. You’d consider this room a blank canvas. I couldn’t wait to get this home furnished and decorated so I could be done with it. It was all such a chore.”
“I think growing up here really inspired me to be a designer.” She looked around. “I love every room, and they’re all different.”
“That’s what happens when you tackle each room, taking advice and ideas from a different month’s home decorating magazine.”
Valerie chuckled. “I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit.”
“Possibly.” She stood. “I just heard the front door.”
As she left the room, Valerie looked at Jon, who stood near the patio doors. “I heard you were just in Egypt.”
He nodded. “Just got in a couple of days ago. Quite an incredible and inspiring journey. My time there changed everything about me. Have you ever been to that area of the world?”
Thinking of all her dreams and desires that somehow got swallowed up by college and career and a very bad relationship decision, she shook her head. “I’ve still only ever been to Georgia and Florida.”
She watched the look of shock cross his face. “What?”
“I know! I need to take a trip!” She looked out the window at the mostly familiar view. “What were you doing there?”
He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Dad met a guy. He was looking for someone to teach project management at a school over there. I was a guest speaker for a couple weeks, then a mentor to two PMPs for a couple more.”
“That’s wonderful. Did you enjoy it?”
His face tightened. “Some. I’d been there before, when I was sixteen. Different culture. I had a lot to learn about it before I left, and I’m glad I did. I’m a Georgia boy through and through, but I think the years I’ve spent going on mission trips helped me survive being so far out of my element.”
Brad and Phillip entered the room just as she started to reply. Phillip stood just an inch shorter than his sons. He had the same color chestnut brown hair, though he now had a sprinkling of gray. He still had a wide chest and thin waist and he walked into the room with the confidence of a man who knew exactly his own position in the world.
She grinned as she stood and let Phillip embrace her. “Valerie. Girl, I am so glad to see you back home.”
The Dixons kept suggesting that this castle was her home. She should object, she knew, because as many hours of her early life as she spent playing here, sleeping here, living here, when she thought of home, she pictured the house Buddy bought right before her high school years began. Yet, her heart disagreed. “I can’t tell you how happy I felt when I walked across that compass rose on the floor. Such a feeling of nostalgia.”
“I feel the same way whenever I walk through that front door.” He stepped aside and she greeted Brad with a smile. He looked just as fresh as he’d looked that morning, even though she knew he’d had a twelve-hour day. Did he have a girlfriend who helped ease the transition from work to downtime? Why did she wonder that?
Phillip kept his arm over her shoulder and turned toward his wife. “Rosie, my love, what is for dinner?”
“Jon went fishing this morning. He caught a twenty-pound bass. You’ll be tired of eating it before it’s gone.”
“Fishing?” Phillip narrowed his eyes with exaggeration toward Jon. “So, I’m paying you to fish in the middle of a workday, is it?”
Jon’s lips formed into a smirk. “Thought I might use one of those two-hundred eleven personal days I’ve accrued but never taken.” Jon slapped his father on the back. “It’s amazing what six hours in a boat on the Chattahoochee can do to a jet-lagged soul.”
Phillip laughed and released her to guide everyone out of the room. Valerie smiled as she walked behind them, remembering Phillip teaching all of them how to fish years ago. Brad walked next to her. “You always looked right at home in that room,” he observed.
She stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye and caught him staring down at her with a contemplative look in his gray eyes. “I, uh, have always loved that room. It’s so peaceful.”
“It’s very feminine.” He paused and let her precede him through the doorway. “You looked just as relaxed and content in there as my mother does.” They followed the crowd into the dining room. A wall of windows looked out onto the same flower garden as Rosaline’s sitting room. Gleaming hardwood floors shone under the giant chandelier that hung suspended above a long rectangular table that could easily seat ten people.
Phillip took the spot at the head of the table, and Rosaline sat to his right. Next to her, Brad held out the chair for Valerie to sit, and he took the chair next to her. Across the table from them, Ken and Jon sat. Valerie ran her finger around the silver-rimmed plate and leaned in toward Brad. “Remember when we threw that Frisbee in here and it broke the glass door of the china cabinet?”
She giggled as his cheeks turned bright red. “I don’t think that was me.”
“Yeah, right. I know the triplet game.” She cut her eyes over to his brothers, who were laughing. “I remember. And if you told your mom one of them did it, you fibbed.”
Rosaline mock glared at Brad. “Oh, he admitted it. Don’t you remember?” She raised her eyebrow. “I’m sure he regretted the act, too.”
Remembering her own punishment of having to work with the gardener until she and Brad had finished paying for the replacement door, Valerie laughed. “He wasn’t the only one.” She tapped the plate with her fingernail. “At least you were able to replace the plates that got broken.”
“And you two learned a hard lesson.”
“I actually learned a lot about landscaping and plants native to Georgia,” she admitted, remembering the gardener who loved teaching his trapped audience. “It was really inspiring for me in college when I studied landscape design.” She looked out the window at the gardens lit by the setting sun. “I still love working with plants.”
Brad’s laugh erupted around the table as Phillip lifted the cover on the platter piled with flaky white fish. “There you go, Mom. Your punishment inspired an entire career.”
Rosaline winked. “Best kind.” She held out her hands, and Valerie, remembering family tradition, took her hand in her left and Brad’s with her right. Holding hands, the entire family collectively bowed their heads, and Phillip issued a prayer thanking God for the food and Valerie’s special homecoming.
Touched, she raised her head and pulled her hands free, rubbing the hand that Brad had held. Somewhere along her adolescence, her faith in God had crumbled. She believed in a Creator, but just didn’t quite grasp the concept that He cared about her or anyone else on earth. But she knew the love this family had for the being they called Jehovah and respected their beliefs.
They passed the platters in a clockwise motion, and soon she had fish, hush puppies, coleslaw, bright green sweet peas, and wild rice on her plate. Recognizing one of her favorite meals, she broke off a flaky bite of bass and put it in her mouth, closing her eyes as she tasted lemon and garlic.
“This looks wonderful, my love,” Phillip said to Rosaline. “Thank you.” He turned his head and looked at her. As he picked up his knife and fork, he asked, “You settled in?”
She gave a small shrug. “I didn’t bring much. I rented a furnished house. I had a few boxes of some kitchen stuff and then mostly books and clothes.” She cut off another bite of fish. “Clean start.”
