A Merry Little Christmas (2 page)

Marcus, the youngest Deveraux son, joined the group, carrying little Anastasia Angelique Deveraux, his first child and
his
pride and joy. Angelique brightened and rose to take the baby from her brother. “Let me hold her. I don’t get to see her that often and we need to bond together.”

He handed her over and sat down with Vera, wrapping his arms around her. “How’s my bride doing? Is there anything I can do for you, baby?”

“I’m fine, Marcus. All I need is you.” Vera smiled. Marcus was always a doting husband, but when his wife was pregnant he went overboard with affection and joy.

The relative quiet of the living room was shattered anew when Ceylon Simmons Deveraux entered with Lillian’s husband, Bill “Bump” Williams. After being Ceylon’s mentor in the music business for years, Bump had found out that the two we
re actually father and daughter,
something that once had caused Angelique a great deal of jealousy. That was all in the past now.

“
There’s my girls
! Seems to me somebody owes me some sugar,” Bump declared as he held his arms out to Angelique and Anastasia. She and the baby each gave Bump sloppy kisses of greeting and enjoyed
his silly expression
as he pretended to wipe off their kisses with big swipes of his hands. Angelique nuzzled her niece on her baby-sweet neck and whispered, “Let’s get out of here,
Stasia
. We need some quiet time.”

They ended up sitting in Bennie’s airy sunroom off her big, well-appointed kitchen, admiring the lush poinsettias and small Christmas tree that brightened the area. Angelique stretched out on the loveseat with little Anastasia on her lap, while Aretha, Bennie’s big, black, longhaired cat, posed regally on the windowsill behind the loveseat. Angelique was being a doting aunt and simply drinking in the child’s beauty, while the baby was coaxing Aretha down from her perch.

“
Weefa
,
Weefa
, come here,” she crooned softly. When the stately cat didn’t move,
Stasia
turned her big eyes to her aunt “Angel, make
Weefa
come down,” she demanded. Angelique smiled at the little girl and ran a finger along her incredibly soft skin. “No, sweetie-pie, let’s leave Aretha alone. She needs some peace and quiet too.” She cuddled
her niece close to her bosom and was rewarded when the child nestled to her shoulder and gave a big yawn. Aretha seemed grateful, too, as she reached out a paw and patted Angelique on the cheek before curling up to go to sleep. Angelique might have also drifted off to sleep, but her cousin Paris Deveraux joined them in the sunroom. Paris had just come back to Atlanta from Lafayette, Louisiana, where she’d spent the holiday with her family. She and Angelique were heading back to Detroit the next day. Paris smiled at the adorable picture they made.

“Aww, you look so pretty!” she exclaimed. “You look just like a Christmas card,” she added as she took a seat in a comfortable overstuffed armchair. “I was wondering where you sneaked off to; now I see you just kidnapped your namesake. God, the two of you look so much alike, it’s amazing. You would think she was your baby instead of your niece.”

Angelique looked down at her little treasure and had to agree that there was a startling resemblance. They both had cafe au
lait
complexions, thick, shiny black hair and thick eyebrows and lashes so long they looked false. They also had deep dimples and even shared a tiny beauty mark near the comer of their full, pouty lips. The resemblance was all they shared, as far as Angelique was concerned. There was no way she would ever let this precious lit
tl
e girl turn out like she had.
You
’re never, ever going to be anything like me, my sweetie. Never in a billion years.
But she didn’t say it out loud, knowing how strongly Paris would react. Instead she asked Paris the question that had been on her mind ever since she’d come home to A
tl
anta for the holidays.

“Paris, remember when Christmas was like the most wonderful thing in the entire world? Remember when it was the most exciting, the happiest time of the entire year? Does it still feel like that to you?”

Paris was slightly taken aback by the utter sincerity with which Angelique spoke. She sighed a little before answering. “Yes, of course I do. I remember when Christmas meant something entirely different than it does now. When the stores didn’t start decorating the day after Halloween, when everything was holy and magical at the same time and it was really a season of miracles. And
back
when we still believed in Santa Claus. Of course I remember. No, it’s not quite that way anymore. But it still feels nice; you’ve got to admit that, cousin. Being at home with your family, with all the babies and the excitement, doesn’t that makes up for some of it?”

Angelique took her time about answering, rubbing her cheek against her niece’s soft, curly hair before speaking. “I don’t know, Paris. I don’t exactly know when the feeling got away from me, but I just feel kinda numb. I don’t feel happy, I don’t feel sad, I’m just here, going through the motions,” she said softly. “I’m glad to be home and see the family, especially all the kids. I had a lot of fun buying Christmas gifts for them and going to church, but it’s just not the same. I just feel empty, Paris, and I don’t know why.”

Now it was Paris’s turn to pause before answering. She had a very good idea of why Angelique was feeling so strange and an equally good idea of what would cure her of her holiday malaise, but now was not the time to bring it up.

Angelique roused Paris from her thoughts. “Can you take the baby for a second so I can get up? She needs to be put down for a real nap and I need
to go play with the other kids. 
I really miss them when I’m away,” she admitted.

Forgetting her decision to keep her mouth shut, Paris rose from her chair and took the sleeping child from Angelique, who stood up and held her arms out for the baby. Looking at the charming picture they made, Paris said softly, “You’re gonna be a great mommy one day, Angel.”

Angelique’s response was instant and emphatic. “No, I won’t, because I’m never having children. Never! The day I have a baby is the day I start believing in Santa Claus again!” Anyone else would have been startled at the passion in Angelique’s voice, but Paris was more than used to her mercurial cousin. She nodded absently as she followed the young woman and the sleeping baby out of the sunroom. If Paris was reading the signs correctly, there were a great many surprises coming for Angelique in the next few months. Maybe not a baby, but a lot of new things were definitely on the way. There had already been so many changes in her
life,
she
seemed like a different person,
something only those very close to her recognized. And since Paris was as close as a sister, she could read the signs better than anyone.
Yes, my dear cousin, next Christmas is going to be very, very different for you.
You
’l
l
believe in a lot more than Santa Claus, I guarantee it.

***

Angelique wasn’t the only person suffering from holiday angst. Back in Detroit, Adonis Cochran was sitting in the breakfast room of his
brother
Andrew’s house, looking glum. He’d been moody and withdrawn for most of the holiday, something most unlike him. He was usually even-tempered and extremely pleasant, with a disposition that matched his good looks. All the Cochran men were handsome, well over six feet tall with caramel skin, black wavy hair and beautiful dark eyes with long lashes and thick eyebrows. And even with this bounty of male beauty, Adonis Bennett Cochran was considered to be the best looking of the sons. The sculptured quality of his features lent him an air of distinction that was often embarrassing to him, especially since he was stuck with the name “Adonis.” He despised die name and answered only to Donnie.

Andrew’s wife, Rene
e, was in the adjoining kitchen
cooking dinner, and took pity on Donnie. She appeared in the doorway of the breakfast room with a look of concern on her face.

“Donnie, honey, I just hate seeing you like this. Isn’t there anything I can do to cheer you up?” she asked.

He grimaced, but had the grace to look ashamed of himself. He shook his head and rose from the table. Walking over to Renee, he embraced her. “Nope, there’s not a thing you can do, unless you can talk Aneesah into changing her mind,” he said morosely. “I still can’t believe she turned
me down flat,” he added, letting go of Renee and walking over to the huge refrigerator. He opened the door and stared into it as though something new and
more
appetizing had materialized since his last inspection fifteen minutes before.

Renee tasted the contents in her big stockpot and added a bit more basil to the fragrant spaghetti sauce she was making for dinner. She’d heard quite a bit about Donnie’s proposal during the past few days and thought now was the time to offer some sisterly advice.

“Come and sit down while I make the garlic bread. And stop poking in the refrigerator, we’ll be eating in about thirty minutes,” she reminded him.

Donnie turned away from the refrigerator with the same hangdog expression and nothing in his hands. He sat down at the tall work island across from Renee and slumped onto the butcher-block top, bracing his head with one hand while he watched her mix pressed garlic, oregano
, marjoram
and basil into a bowl of softened butter. His mood had been the same since a few days before Christmas, when his college sweetheart, Aneesah Shabazz, turned down his proposal of marriage. He was about to bemoan his fate again when Renee surprised him by making a few points.

“Honey, let’s talk about this. I know you and Aneesah were quite close for a long time, but your relationship basically ended when she went to graduate school in California. You became friends, not boyfriend and girlfriend, remember? And after she got both those master’s degrees and her Ph.D., she decided to move back to Michigan, but it wasn’t like she was moving back just to be with you. Now, I know you two have been dating again, but frankly, I was surprised when you announced you were going to propose to her. And
I think
she was just as surprised when you presented her with that ring. Well, actually I
know
she was, since she turned you down. I know it hurt your feelings, sweetie, but the thing is,” she paused as she gave the now-fragrant garlic butter a final stir, “I don’t think it really broke your heart.” Giving him a loving look, she began to spread the butter on the big loaves of dense Italian bread she’d sliced earlier.

Donnie made a halfhearted attempt to steal a piece of the bread and was rebuffed. He continued to look glum for a moment and then spoke.
 
“Now you sound like Aneesah,” he admitted. “It was kind of a shock to her, I guess, because she looked pretty stunned when I whipped out the ring. Maybe I should have waited a while, given her a chance to get used to us being together again. Maybe I should have waited for her to get more settled into her new job, I don’t know. I just didn’t see the point in waiting around forever, Renee. It’s time that I was married, that I started a family.”

“Everybody’s married except me and Adam,” he continued. “And who knows when or if Adam will ever tie the knot.” He scratched the nape of his neck and brooded about the fact that he and Adam, his older brother, were the only two Cochrans
who were
still single.

Renee finished with the loaves of bread and wrapped them neatly in foil to prepare them for the oven. “Getting married because your siblings are married doesn’t sound like a reason to propose, Donnie. There’s got to be more to it than that,” she said gently.

Donnie nodded in agreement, but defended his position. “Look, Renee, I feel like I’m
ready
to get married. As far as business is concerned, things couldn’t be going better. The stations are thriving; the merger with the Deveraux Group is paying off beautifully. I’m working on some more creative outlets for Cochran Communications that look really promising. But my life can’t be all about business. I want what you and Andrew have, what Bennie and Clay have, what everyone around me seems to have in abundance. I want a real home and a real family with a loving wife and kids and I want it before I’m ninety. I don’t think that’s asking too much, do you?”

Renee regarded her brother-in-law with amazement.
 
“Donnie, I’ve never heard you talk like this before. You’ve been so busy dating all those beautiful ladies of yours
that
it never occurred to me you
were
thinking seriously about matrimony. Or did you just start thinking about it when Aneesah moved back to Detroit?”

Donnie looked reflective for a moment,
and
then acknowledged that he really wasn’t sure. “All I know is Aneesah is the kind of woman I want to marry. She’s brilliant, educated, accomplished and beautiful,” he said, ticking off the points on his fingers. “And she’s the right size, which you know is a non-negotiable requirement,” he added with a laugh.

Renee made a sound of reproach but Donnie was unrepentant. He had a weakness for big, beautiful women and he made no secret of the fact that a full-figured woman was the only kind who could catch his eye. He’d never been known to date anyone who wore less than a size eighteen, and Aneesah, who was five-nine and curvy, more than fulfilled his wishes in that respect. But, as Renee was glad to inform him, those attributes weren’t enough on which to build a lasting future.