Monica Richardson - A Yuletide Affair

“An hour? Are you kidding me?” she asked. “Why didn’t you tell me you had business on Abaco before you brought me here?”

“Alyson, this is my livelihood. I always schedule other business when we come here. You know that. I have to take advantage of every opportunity to make money.”

Stephen was definitely an entrepreneur. He owned a rental shop along the beach on the Eleuthera, where he rented jet skis and surfboards by the hour. He used his powerboat to transport tourists between the islands. Though Alyson often complained, she appreciated him allowing her to tag along on his moneymaking trips. But because he was her younger cousin, she felt obligated to give him a hard time—each and every time. It was a habit that she hadn’t quite grown out of. She didn’t care about Stephen leaving her for an hour, but spending time alone with Samson was what she feared most.

“Hurry back.” She kissed her cousin’s cheek. “I need to get back to the Eleuthera before nightfall. I have an early meeting that I need to prepare for.”

“Good luck with her,” Stephen told Samson. “She’s impossible to deal with.”

“I’m not impossible! I’m just a woman who knows what she wants.”

Stephen shook his head, and then stood on the deck. Lit a cigarette. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way back.”

* * *

Madison House was one of the most alluring properties in the Abacos. Positioned at sixty-eight feet above sea level and overlooking the Sea of Abaco, the magnificent beauty boasted six bedrooms and a great room all connected by massive breezeways. Each bedroom had its own private balcony. The vaulted ceilings, Brazilian wood flooring and the glass walls were by far the main attractions. The view of the beach from the great room was stunning.

“There are no words to describe this property,” said Samson. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful.”

“You like, huh?” she asked.

“It’s breathtaking.”

Samson followed her across the mahogany floors and into the kitchen with its upscale stainless-steel appliances and a dumbwaiter. French doors off the kitchen led to a porch that wrapped all the way around the property. She stepped outside and felt the tropical air against her face—breathed it in.

“I could live here.” Samson said it softly.

“Unfortunately it’s not for sale. But since you insisted on seeing it, here it is,” she told him.

“Here it is, indeed.”

They stepped back inside and took the winding staircase to the second level and to the master suite. Huge glass French doors led to an enormous private balcony with a view of the ocean.

“This is unreal,” said Samson.

It took them more than thirty minutes to finish the tour. When they were done, she set the alarm and secured the property.

“We can use the golf cart from this house, and I’ll drive you over to a nearby property. Of course it’s a little more quaint, but still very beautiful.”

“I’ll follow your lead,” he said.

They drove the golf cart along the road to a smaller three-bedroom house on Marsh Harbour. Tall palm trees greeted them in front of the well-manicured yard.

“This one seems a little more practical,” Samson said as they entered the home. “I like the kitchen. It’s much bigger than the other house.”

“Why would you care about a kitchen?”

“I cook. And very well, as a matter of fact.”

“And what is it that you cook?” she asked with a bit of skepticism in her voice.

“A little of everything, but mostly soul food. Collard greens and the best fried chicken you’ve ever tasted,” he boasted. “I make a mean sweet potato pie, too.”

She looked at him. “You make sweet potato pie?”

“A mean one,” he insisted.

“That’s my favorite pie. I can eat a whole one all by myself.”

“Well, maybe I’ll make you one someday,” said Samson. “Do you cook?”

“All my life. Mostly Bahamian dishes. Our mother made sure we all learned how to cook. Said the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” She laughed. “Not that I care about getting to a man’s heart. But it’s nice to know how to cook, nonetheless. At least I’ll never go hungry, right?”

“Why aren’t you interested in getting to a man’s heart? Aren’t you interested in men?”

“Of course I’m interested in men.” She set her purse down on the kitchen counter. “But I’m just not interested in the whole drama of a relationship right now. Don’t have the time or the energy. My life is fine just the way it is.”

“Relationships don’t always have to bring drama. Maybe you’re unhappy by your own choosing.”

“I never said I was unhappy! I’m quite happy, in fact.” She was convincing herself more than him. “But I’m just not interested in the whole drama of a relationship right now. Don’t have the time or the energy. My life is fine just the way it is.”

“Relationships don’t always have to bring drama. Maybe you’re unhappy by your own choosing.”

“I never said I was unhappy! I’m quite happy, in fact.” She was convincing herself more than him. “But what about you? You have a wife, girlfriend or baby’s mother back in...wherever it is you came from?”

“Chicago. And none of the above. I’m a happy bachelor.”

“So you live in Chicago?”

“Southside.”

“What part?”

“In a historical, black neighborhood. A lot of culture there.”

“Isn’t there also a lot of crime?”

“Not any more than anyplace else. And where do you live, on Miami’s Fisher Island somewhere?”

“Downtown.”

“Should’ve known.”

“What do you mean, ‘should’ve known’? I’ll have you know that downtown Miami is very cultural. A lot of history there, as well,” she explained. “And why do you live in Southside Chicago, anyway?”

“It’s my home. I was born and raised there. It’s where I grew up. I’m proud of my home. I envy your upbringing. Must’ve been nice, growing up in the Bahamas.”

“It was restricting. I outgrew this place. Quickly!”

It had been years since she’d lived on the islands. A native of the Bahamas, she’d gone away to college and vowed never to return to the islands permanently. And even after the completion of her family’s bed-and-breakfast, the Grove, she still had no desire to return. However, visiting properties with Samson caused her to remember why she loved the Bahamas so much. It was still her home, where her family lived, and still one of the most beautiful places in the world.

Her father was a retired physician, and he was the best example of what she wanted in a man. Genuine and caring and very intuitive, he was part of the reason she’d never settled down with anyone. No one could ever compare to him. That and the fact that her mother’s voice was forever in her head about everything. Her mother’s little anecdotes and lessons lived in her mind. She didn’t know why she listened to her mother, though. Beverly Talbot had done the opposite of what she constantly encouraged her daughters to do. She told them to follow their dreams, when she’d abandoned her own dreams only to follow their father’s.

“Sometimes in life, we make sacrifices, Alyson.” That had been her mother’s excuse. “I wanted a better life for you guys. That’s why I didn’t follow my dreams.”

Alyson and her siblings had certainly benefited from their mother’s sacrifices. Their parents had somehow managed to put every one of them through college. Everyone except for Alyson’s youngest brother, Denny, who’d chosen the military instead. He was currently away completing officer’s training in the United States. The rebellious one with a mind and style of his own, he’d certainly been the exception to the Talbot family rule.