A Merry Little Christmas (5 page)

“Hey, girl, I’m home! What are you cooking? It smells wonderful.”

Paris ran lightly down the stairs and dashed into the kitchen to give the pot a stir. “Thanks for the c
ompliment, cuz
, but I can’t take credit for this, it’s your recipe. I made that white-bean
chicken
chili everyone
loves so much, and some jalapen
o com-bread muffins and fruit salad. Very filling, full of fiber, and low-fat,” she said.

Paris was, like all the Deverauxes, tall and good-looking, but she was very conscious of everything she ate. She’d battled a weight problem all her life and had managed, in the past few years, to lose weight through careful eating and lots of exercise. Her friend Aidan Sinclair, who lived in
Atlanta and also worked for TDG,
as the De
veraux Group was commonly
known,
liked to take credit for her transformation as he’d forced her to diet and work out with him. Regardless of who was responsible, there was no denying that Paris was a changed person. She was five-ten and fair-skinned with long, wavy black hair she no longer kept in a ponytail twenty-four-seven, but wore in a becomingly layered style. Her figure was still bountiful, but she was a firm size sixteen instead of a fluffy size twenty, and she now wore trim, fitted clothes instead of the baggy things she once used to camouflage her figure faults. Tonight she was wearing a comfortable-looking outfit of cotton cashmere in a pretty coral color. The knit pants fit properly and the scoop-necked top showed off her collarbone as well as the dramatic line of her shoulders.

Paris turned off the burner under the chili and said they could eat in five minutes if Angelique would set the table. “Where’ve you been all afternoon? I thought about calling you on your cell phone, but I figured you were busy with A. J. or something,” she said.

Angelique sighed as she dried her hands on a paper towel. Turning to the cupboard, she got down the colorful Fiestaware that had been a housewarming gift from Vera and Marcus. “I was delivering those packages for Bennie. I went to see Renee and Andrew, and Andre and Alan, and Mr. C and Miss Martha,” she recited. “Mr. C” was how she referred to Big Bennie Cochran, the patriarch of the family and father to Benita and her brothers. Miss Martha was his wife, the woman he’d married so many years after his first wife, the mother of his children, had passed away.

Working quickly, Angelique set two places with plates, soup bowls, bread plates, water goblets and silverware and turned back to the cupboard to get footed dessert dishes for the fruit salad. Casually she added, “I also went to Adam’s loft, and he had company. Adonis was there.”

Paris stopped in the middle of serving the piping-hot chili.
“Uh-oh.
Did y’all get into it?” she asked with a smile.

Angelique finished the table settings with big, soft cotton napkins and took a pitcher of Crystal Light peach-flavored iced tea out of the refrigerator; both she and Paris were addicted to the beverage. Taking a seat, she shook her head no. “Actually, he was pretty well behaved today.”

The two women reached out and took each other’s hands and said grace, as was their habit. Then Angelique placed her napkin in her lap and daintily dug into the aromatic and very tasty chili. Paris followed suit, but she couldn’t leave well enough alone. She had to go there again, just to satisfy her curiosity.

“You know, y’all don’t fight nearly as much as you used to. What happened? Did you declare a truce or something?”

Angelique took her time answering as she had just taken a mouthful of a flavorful muffin. “Mmm, that’s delicious!
A truce?
No, 1
don’t
think we declared a truce, exactly, but ever since
he took me to the dentist, it’s been awfully hard to be mean to him. He was too nice to me that day,” she said reflectively.

Paris smiled broadly. “So does that
mean you won’t call him SpongeB
ob anymore?”

“Oh, no, girl.
As long as he calls me Evilene, he’s gonna be SpongeBob
SquarePants
. But that doesn’t negate the fact that he was really nice to me when I needed him.”

Paris thought back to that fateful day
and had to agree that Donnie had
come through like a champ. Angelique was never one to c
omplain about physical ailments.  I
n fact, she was something of a Spartan when it came to matters of health. She was rarely ill, and when she did get a touch of something, she’d soldier on until it was over. However, what had started as a mild headache had worked its way into horrifying proportions that left Angelique almost delirious with pain. In her usual fashion, she hadn’t mentioned the pain to anyone, just tried her best to cope with it. Paris finally found her curled up on her bed, sobbing like a child. This alone alarmed Paris, as she’d never seen her cousin in tears before, but the fact that her right cheek was also swollen to three times its normal size was terrifying.

Angelique obviously had an infection or abscess of some kind and needed immediate attention, so Paris had called the first person she could think of, Renee, and luckily Donnie answered the phone. Almost before she’d hung up the phone, he was at their place. He
had a good friend who was an en
dodontist and was able to work Angelique in as an emergency. The only problem was that Angelique was terrified of dentists and refused to go.

To Paris’s utter amazement and permanent gratitude, Donnie had taken Angelique onto his lap like one of his nieces and held her tightly, assuring her that his friend wouldn’t hurt her, and would take her pain away. “Evie, sweetheart, I can look at you and see how much pain you’re in. That cute little face is all swollen and I know you must feel like crap. C’mon, Evie, let’s go make it better, okay?” After those soothing words, Angelique did indeed let him take her to the endodontist, and Donnie even stayed with her during the whole process. Paris suspected that he’d held her hand the entire time. After that incident Angelique and Donnie just didn’t seem to argue as much, not even when he called her Evie, a diminutive of Evilene,
the
name he’d called her for years when he wanted to push her buttons.

Paris observed her cousin while she slowly sipped her iced tea. Carefully setting her glass down, she decided to
wade
in with both feet. “So, have you ever thought about dating Donnie? I think he’d be fun to go out with,” she said innocently.

Only a slight redness along her cheekbones betrayed the emotions Angelique was feeling. With admirable restraint, she merely said, “No.
Not my type, actually.”

Paris opened her mouth to probe further, but a slight tightening of Angelique’s jaw told her this was dangerous ground. Just then the phone rang, and with a look of pure relief Angelique dashed to answer it. Paris sighed and speared another chunk of pineapple from the remains of her fruit salad.
Okay, “not my type,"
she thought.
Whatever you say, cuz.
Whatever you say.
Then she laughed, knowing that if Aidan were present, he’d give her a good whack on the back of her
head and warn her not to do what she was
thinking
about doing. Not that it would have stopped her. Not in the least.

Chapter Three

While preparing to make dinner in his well-equipped kitchen, Adam was taking great pleasure in raking his younger brother over the coals. He was amused at Donnie’s current angst and to some small degree he sympathized with it, but wasn’t about to let him get away with his behavior.

“Adonis, what is wrong with you? Why were you so rude to Angelique? You were acting like she turned you down instead of Aneesah. What’s your problem?” he asked bluntly.

Donnie frowned at Adam and took another swallow from his bottle of
min
eral water. “Okay, I admit I was less than cordial to Evilene, but that’s how we communicate. It’s just how we get down,” he mumbled.

Adam shook his head as he assembled ingredients on the counter. “Don’t you think it’s a little childish, Donnie? I can’t believe my brother talks to a woman like that,” he said disapprovingly.

“Aww, man, Evie doesn’t trip over it, why does it bother you? She likes to play and she can take it. She can also dish it out,” he said with a short laugh. His mind automatically drifted back to another incident that had occurred shortly after she came to Detroit. Donnie hadn’t liked the idea of Angelique staying in the
garage apartment behind Renee and Andrew’s house that was known as the
Outhouse and made his position plain. Even now he felt a little warmth in his face when he recalled the things he’d said.

Angelique had been playing with his nieces in another part of the house while he’d been venting to Renee. “I just think you’re asking for trouble having her here, Renee. Let h
er stay in a hotel or something,
you don’t need her underfoot. And you don’t need to be waiting hand and foot on the little princess, either.”

Renee had been busy folding laundry and barely looked up from her task. “Donnie, I don’t know why you’re behaving like this. Angelique may have been a handful at one time, but she’s turned into a very nice young woman, which you might realize if you’d stop to take a look. Besides, she’s wonderful with the girls; they adore her. And for your information, she’s a big help to me.”

Donnie cringed now as he remembered his next words. Even after months had passed, he was still embarrassed by what he’d said. “That just goes to show you, children don’t know any better.
That woman is a waste of skin. There isn’t one redeemable feature about her, Renee.” No sooner had he finished speaking than there was a soft gasp behind him. He’d turned to find Angelique standing there with a stricken look on her face, and felt himself shrivel up inside as he watched her cover her mouth with a slender hand. Before he could say a word, she had dashed out the back door, leaving him alone with Renee, who was glaring at him as though
he were the worst scum on earth.  
He’d immediately taken off after Angelique to apologize, when he suddenly had the breath knocked out of him— Angelique had leaped on his back and grabbed his ears to use as reins.

“A waste of skin, huh?
I got your waste of skin right here, you overgrown tree! You thought I was out here crying, didn’t you? Well, I got news for you, buddy, I don’t shed tears, I
cause
them!” And to Donnie’s utter amazement, they ended up wrestling like children and chasing each other around the backyard to the consternation of Renee and the delight of his nieces, who thought
it
was some sort of game.

Donnie laughed out loud at the memory. That was one of the things he had to admire about Angelique: she was tough and more than capable of taking care of
herself
, and also had a surprising sense of humor. They had actually started having a little fun with their adversarial relationship after that. And he had apologize
d for the incident all the same,
an apology she accepted with no comment.

Adam looked over his shoulder at his brother, who was lost in thought. “I still think you need to watch how you talk to Angelique. You wouldn’t like it if someone
talked
to Benita like that,” he pointed out.

Donnie’s thick eyebrows drew together at the mention of his sister’s name; his protective instincts leaped to the fore immediately. Donnie was, like all Cochran men, territorial and almost paternalistic when it came to taking care of those they cared about. “Well, of course I wouldn’t put up with that
.
Nobody better talk to my sister like that, even if they call themselves playing. I ain’t having that
,
” he growled, then became silent for a moment contemplating what Adam had said. It was true, Angelique was someone’s sister, too, and it was probably time he remembered that. Besides, he wouldn’t have wanted anything bad to happen to her.

“I understand what you’re saying, but believe me, Adam, she gets me as good as I get her. I admit it I used to like to get her going by calling her Evilene, but she just turned the tables on me and started calling me SpongeBob. And she doesn’t just
call
me SpongeBob—I have a SpongeBob bumper sticker on my Jag that I certainly didn’t authorize, not to mention about a thousand SpongeBob toys she gives to the kids to give to me. She told them how much their Uncle Donnie loves that stupid cartoon, and
bless
their little hearts, they believed her. She actually sent a singing, dancing SpongeBob telegram to the office one day. That was real jolly,” he said with a laugh. “And on top of everything else, she manages to put a SpongeBob sticker on me every time we’re within twenty feet of each other. As a matter of fact, check me out,” he said, jumping to his feet.
 
He turned around slowly and heard Adam’s shout of laughter. There was indeed a small sticker, bearing the guilelessly smiling cartoon character, stuck discreetly on his left shoulder.

“She’s good, man. Really good,” said Adam in a voice of admiration. “Maybe you should think about getting with her since you both share the same warped sense of humor.”