Sheryl Lister - Just To Be with You

Terrence knew Brad meant well, but couldn’t stop the surge of annoyance that welled up.

Audrey punched her husband in the arm. “That’s not what I said, Brad. I said a long-distance relationship is tricky, not impossible.”

The anger on Terrence’s face was plain.

“Way to go, Brad. And why would you tell him to ‘just sleep with her and move on’? Didn’t you see the look on his face when she called?” She rolled her eyes and jumped to her feet.

Brad’s face reddened, and he tried to backpedal. “I’m sorry, Terrence. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“For a man who’s supposed to be able to read facial expressions and body language as an integral part of his job, you can be so dense sometimes.” Audrey turned to Terrence. “Terrence, if you feel she’s special, then you should go after her.” She shrugged. “That’s my two cents.” She glared at her husband, snatched up her belongings and stormed out.

“What does that mean?” a confused Brad asked.

Donovan chuckled. “Man, you stepped in it this time. What your wife is trying to say is, as a lawyer, you should have been able to look at Terrence’s face when Janae called and know that she’s more than some booty call.” At Brad’s continued blank look, he shook his head. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“No. What am I missing?”

“In all the years you’ve known Terrence, how has he behaved when it came to women?”

Brad shrugged. “More or less had a take-it-or-leave-it attitude.”

“And, even when he dated?”

“He still seemed somewhat detached. As a matter of fact, I don’t remember seeing him with the same woman twice.”

“When you look at Audrey, what happens to your facial expression and your body language?”

His eyes widened. “I...oh...you’re right. I’ve never seen him look like that before.”

“Bingo.” Donovan stood.

“I’ll be in my office,” Terrence grumbled, annoyed they were talking about him as though he treated women badly.

Brad stood quickly, following them out. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know.”

“Terrence will be fine. You should probably start with your wife, since she thinks you’re dense,” Donovan said with a laugh.

* * *

Terrence sat at his desk staring out the window when Donovan closed the door and took a seat on the sofa.

Neither spoke for several minutes, and then Donovan asked, “You okay, man?”

Terrence slowly rotated in his chair. “I’m cool.”

“I don’t think Brad meant any harm.” He chuckled and shook his head. “But he pissed Audrey off. You know how protective of you she is.”

Terrence smiled faintly.

“What are you going to do about Janae?”

“I’m going to see her.”

“You’re serious about her.”

“I’m not serious about anyone.”

He shook his head. “What do you need me to do?”

“I’d like to go on Saturday.”

“I’ll make sure the jet is ready and get you a car. When do you want to fly back?”

“Depends. No later than Sunday, though. We both have to work on Monday.”

Donovan nodded and stood. “I’ll let you know when everything is finalized.”

“Thanks, D. And tell Audrey to go easy on Brad.”

“I will, and you tell Mrs. Lewis we didn’t do anything to you. She was fussing and asking if we upset you when I came in. I swear you’ve got better protection than the president.” The fifty-something-year-old secretary watched over Terrence like a mama bear protecting her cub.

“What can I say?” Terrence shrugged. “I’m leaving in about half an hour. I want to be home early so I can spend time with my folks.”

“That’s fine. Tell them I said hello. We’ll be closing up shop before that anyway. I’ll be right behind you.” He opened the door and turned back. “I should have everything ready for your trip by midmorning tomorrow.”

“Okay. Later.”

* * *

Terrence hit the play button on his home studio’s audio system, listening once again to the demo he’d received the previous day. Something bothered him about the recording, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. After three repeats, he shut down the system. He knew exactly what he needed to do to relax—cook. A smile creased his face. He would surprise his grandparents by cooking dinner for them.

Due to the lateness of the hour, he settled on a simple meal of grilled salmon, wild rice and steamed broccoli. After he finished cooking, Terrence walked through the breezeway that connected his grandparents’ cottage to his house. When he’d had the house built, they had adamantly refused to live with him, citing his privacy and being burdensome among their reasons. They had finally relented when he told them they would have their own two-bedroom, one-bath cottage, complete with living room and kitchen.

“Grandma. Grandpa. Where are you?” he called out as he entered through the side door off the kitchen. Terrence continued to the living room and found them watching TV.

His grandmother stood as quickly as her seventy-two-year-old body allowed and engulfed him in a tight hug. “Hi, baby.” She reached up and palmed his cheeks. “How are you, sweetheart? You look tired.”

He held on to her, basking in the unconditional love he always found in her arms. “A little tired, but I’m good. You’re looking beautiful as usual.”

His grandfather slowly came to his feet. “Hey, boy. Quit trying to sweet-talk my wife,” he teased.

Terrence laughed. “Hi, Grandpa.” They embraced. “Well, she is a beautiful woman.”

His grandfather gazed at his grandmother with glowing eyes. “That she is. Still as beautiful as the day I met her.”

Terrence was used to the affection his grandparents displayed toward one another. Ray Campbell, Sr. and Eleanor Davis Campbell were as much in love now as they had been during his childhood. For the first time in his life, he began to wonder what it would feel like to have a love that spanned more than five decades.

“Is everything okay, Terrence?” his grandmother asked.

“What did you say, Grandma?”

“I asked if everything was okay. You had this strange look on your face.”

“Everything’s fine. I came to tell you I cooked dinner so you guys can come eat.”

“What a nice surprise.” His grandfather patted him on the shoulder. “You didn’t have to cook dinner for us. We know how hard you’ve been working.”

“I wanted to do it. It’s been three weeks since we’ve been together, and I missed you.” After returning from the latest round of touring, he had been working late, and his grandparents were asleep by the time he made it home.

“Well, what are we waiting for? I’m starved,” his grandmother said, starting off.

After his grandfather blessed the food, the only sounds that could be heard for the first several minutes were forks scraping against plates.

“Son, this is really good. Now, don’t get me wrong, Mrs. Jones is a great cook, but I sure enjoy when you get in the kitchen.”

Terrence’s housekeeper, Mrs. Jones, occasionally stepped in as cook when he went on tour, or on the days his grandmother didn’t prepare meals. “Thanks, Grandpa.”

“I agree. It’s a shame you don’t have a special lady here to share these fabulous meals.” His grandmother forked up another portion and moaned appreciably.

Terrence glanced over at her innocent expression. “Grandma?”

“Yes, sweetheart,” she answered pleasantly.

“We’ve had this conversation before.”

She patted his arm. “I know, dear. But your grandpa and I aren’t getting any younger. We don’t want you to spend the rest of your life alone.” She leaned closer and winked. “And we want a couple of great-grandchildren before the Lord calls us home.”