Delicious Destiny. Yahrah St. John
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He raised his wineglass and openly stared at Shari.
Shari found it hard not to be flattered by the attention Grant was bestowing on her. She’d forgotten how good it felt to be with a man. She’d denied herself for too long. “To old friends.” She clicked her glass against his. “So what do you want to know?”
“Well, for starters, how about you and Thomas Abernathy?” Grant supplied.
A lump formed in her throat. Shari was surprised Grant even remembered Thomas’s name because she’d only mentioned him a few times in passing. “What about him? We hung out in college.”
“Well...after you and I were together, after we made love...” Just the words caused a blush to spread across Shari’s cheeks. “Well, I thought we might date, but then Dina told me that Thomas was planning to propose to you. That he was an old-fashioned guy and wanted his bride to be a virgin on their wedding night. I felt horrible after our night together, like I’d ruined your plans for your life. But now after seeing Andre...” His voice trailed off.
No wonder Grant felt free to pursue Dina! Dina had ensured it by spreading lies about her and Thomas. Shari wondered what other lies Dina told him.
“Andre?” Shari swallowed hard. She knew what Grant was implying. He’d assumed like everyone else in the Drayson family that Thomas was Andre’s father.
The waiter returned with their soups and Shari sunk her spoon in the creamy mixture and brought it to her lips. The lobster bisque was bright and lush and full of flavor. She didn’t like the direction the conversation had turned. She wanted to tell Grant that Andre was his son, but somehow the words wouldn’t come. Once he found out, hellfire was sure to rain down on her. She could only imagine how angry he would be with her for keeping the truth from him. Was she being selfish by wanting one more night with him that was just about her and nothing more?
After several moments, she said, “Andre’s a great kid. He’s smart and funny. He loves to build things and is always asking questions. He’s always getting into things. He keeps me on my toes.”
“Sounds like a pretty amazing kid,” Grant offered.
She tried not to make it obvious that she’d purposely steered the conversation away from Andre’s parentage and more into generalities. The subject made her so nervous that she had to fight fidgeting in her seat. Instead, she forced a bright smile.
“He is,” she said as she continued eating her soup. “He’s the love of my life. Having him was the best decision I ever made.”
“How did your family take your pregnancy?”
“They were understandably upset,” Shari replied. “They expected me to go to graduate school for my MBA, but it wasn’t possible.”
“You didn’t go?” Grant asked. “Oh, Shari, you were so talented. You had a knack for business.”
“Thank you. I appreciate you saying so, but it would have been difficult with a big belly. I didn’t want to see the stares of the other students.”
“I noticed you haven’t mentioned Thomas. Did you go through your pregnancy alone?” Grant circled back to an unwelcome topic.
“Have you met my family?” Shari attempted a laugh even though she felt far from jovial. “I wasn’t alone. Eventually, they came around and embraced me and my son.”
“I’m so glad. And now you’re working at Lillian’s?”
“Yes, I’m a baker. You see, we all play a role at Lillian’s. My cousin Belinda is tied to Grandma Lillian’s apron strings. Belinda keeps the kitchen organized by ordering me, her fiancé, Malik, and my cousin Carter around, even though we’re all excellent bakers. Malik, Carter and my cousin Drake are doing a blog called ‘Brothers Who Bake,’ and now there’s talk about a cookbook.”
“You sound very impressed with your cousins, but downplay yourself. Why is that?”
It was very intuitive of Grant to feel her ambivalence about her place in the Drayson family.
“With your business degree, you should be running Lillian’s.”
“I know, I know,” Shari said, lowering her head. “And I did by suggesting we sell our bake mixes, which Grandma Lillian implemented. It’s just difficult hearing your voice amongst my loud, rambunctious family.”
“Then talk louder,” Grant offered, and Shari finally chuckled, which helped lighten the mood.
The remainder of the evening was breezy and light with Grant and Shari easily discussing movies, music, cooking and traveling. Shari discovered Grant was well-traveled and had been to Europe, the Middle East and even Africa. She was envious. She’d always wanted to travel, but now that Andre was about to start kindergarten, she was going to be restricted to summer breaks only.
They finished the evening at Chicago’s oldest blues club off North Halsted, which was nearly full to capacity. The bar had two stages and two bands. The club was crowded with people lining the walls, drinking at the bar or chowing on their infamous barbecue ribs. Immediately upon entering, Shari noticed the Wall of Fame, which had pictures of the famous blues singers that had sung there. They chose to sit at one of the small, intimate round tables that circled the North Stage.
They listened to some of the best traditional blues Chicago had to offer. The band was great, from the explosive guitar to the sweet sounds of the legendary harmonica. Grant and Shari even got up at one point to share a dance.
She was surprised when Grant suggested it because there were no couples on the floor. Usually Shari hated to be the center of attention, but because Grant was asking, she acquiesced. And she was glad she did.
Being held in Grant’s arms was everything she’d dreamed it would be. He was strong, yet gentle as he swayed her to the soft bluesy music. He smelled so manly, earthy and woodsy. She breathed him in, resting her head against his solid chest. At one point, she thought she felt him stroke her shoulder-length hair, but then she realized she was fantasizing too much. Tonight was just about two friends catching up, because surely it couldn’t be anything more.
Hours later on the drive to the Drayson family estate at Glenville Heights, they were both introspective, each content with the quiet and the other’s presence. Shari had asked Grant to drop her at her parents’ home so she could give Andre a kiss good-night and be there when he woke up. Grant hadn’t seemed to mind.
When they arrived, the porch light was still on for Shari. She’d called ahead and told her parents she’d be staying over.
Grant turned off the engine and turned and looked at Shari. “I had fun tonight,” he said, but didn’t move a muscle.
“I did, too,” Shari said, wringing her hands in her lap. If this was any other date, she might expect a kiss at the end of the evening, but this was Grant. A man she hadn’t seen in years, but with whom she shared a son. What was supposed to happen next? Her anxiety was only increasing because Grant hadn’t made a move toward the door. He seemed to be waiting for something, but what?
After several long moments, he said, “I guess we should get you inside.”
Shari turned and hazarded a glance in Grant’s direction. Desire lurked in those depths, but he seemed to be warring with himself about whether to act on it. She was disappointed when he finally pushed the door open and slid out of the driver’s seat. Seconds later, he was opening her door and pulling her out of the car.
Shari used her key to open the front door and turned on the foyer light. That’s when she heard the pitter-patter of little feet as her son Andre came bounding down the stairs to her. She bent down and he rushed into her arms. Her little boy had waited up for her.
“Someone should be asleep,” she scolded as she lifted her son into her arms.
“I know, Mommy, but you never go away at night,” Andre said, “and I couldn’t go to sleep. I missed you.” He planted a big, sloppy