Loving Mr. Wright Read online

  Her original gym clothes didn’t fit anymore and she had gone shopping for new clothes with her mother, who was amazed that she was seeing her at a small size again.

  Erica was now a well-toned slim chick. She got compliments at church, compliments at work, but noticeably, no compliments from Caleb.

  She and Caleb were now firm friends. In fact, she knew that she was his best friend. They chopped trees together; milked goats together. They even painted the house together and planted palm trees all along the entrance to the land after they had cleared out the undergrowth.

  The place was now looking like it was cared for. The next three projects they had lined up were to: pave the quarter-mile of roadway that had terrible pot holes she was always complaining about; rewire the boundaries of the land; and finish picking the good cocoa that were left on the trees.

  She had really gotten to know Caleb over the months, though she realized that some parts of his life were a closed book. He never ventured near certain topics and she could not lead him into telling her why he arrived in St. Ann seemingly destitute with just the shirt on his back.

  The stubborn silence on his part was surprisingly not a turn off for her. She wanted to know but she wasn't burning to know, unlike her mother who thought it very fishy.

  Another thing that she didn’t know was how Caleb felt toward her. He treated her like a good pal. One day he had hugged her sideways and she had gone home with a smile a mile wide, but that was the sum total of the affection he showed toward her. She sometimes felt like she was a chummy male friend or that she had no sex appeal at all.

  Phoebe had suggested to her, with a pleased smile on her face, that maybe he was gay. Erica had mulled it over. He did say that he didn’t have a rosy view of females until he met her, so maybe he really had no desire for women.

  The thought had saddened her for days, so much that two days ago, when she had gone to help him plant palm trees along the driveway, she had been unusually silent and pensive. For months she had patiently waited for him to show some indication that he was interested in her but she got nothing, nada, zilch. She felt like screaming 'what's wrong with me!' in his ears.

  The thought had flashed across her mind that she had wasted her time hauling herself up to his place morning after morning, but then she looked at her much slimmer self in the mirror and thought that at least she had accomplished something by losing the weight.

  She was wearing Kelly's size 6 clothes that she found in her closet and was even eating better. Her absurd love for chocolate was even waning. Maybe that was the reason God sent Caleb into her life, hadn't she prayed that she would get over her addictions? There was merit in the Word when it said 'be temperate in all things.' Unfortunately, she was having a Caleb addiction, which meant that she had replaced one addiction with another. She was addicted to his voice, to his eyes, to the way he licked his lips, to the way he walked and to that super confident smile he had when he looked at her. The man was gorgeous, she was an addict, and he didn't like her.

  The prospect of finding somebody was looking grimmer and grimmer everyday, but who was she kidding, she didn't want to find somebody else. She wanted Caleb, so why couldn't he feel the same about her? She wasn’t so bad, was she?

  She sighed as she slowed the car down considerably as she advanced up the hill towards the house. They had painted it a nice burnt orange color, which went really well with the cut stonework at the bottom of the house. She had rarely gone inside but when she slowed down in front of the house today, Caleb was standing at the verandah doorway with a smile on his face. He was in his customary blue jeans and white t-shirt and he looked leanly muscular and imposing.

  Despite herself, she smiled back. That smile really had the power to do her in. She had hoped by now that she would have developed some sort of immunity to it. After she climbed out of the car she advanced toward him. "I thought we were going to do some evening work."

  "Not today," Caleb said. "Today I have something really special for you."

  "For me," Erica put her hand on her heart. "Oh something smells ridiculously good."

  "Well, I started out working for you," Caleb said seriously.

  "Which you still do." Erica pointed out, "without pay though, which I don’t understand."

  "That’s because you ended up working for me and you do far more than mowing the lawn at your house. I couldn't in all good conscience take your money."

  Erica shrugged. "That's fine. Let's talk about what you have for me."

  "Well," Caleb said, "come on in."

  Erica walked behind him slowly. She had little occasion to go into the house before now. They would usually sit and talk outside after they were done working and then she would head home. The place looked a lot larger than the last time she had looked inside, probably because Caleb had painted it a soft cream color, which went very well with the super shine hardwood floor.

  "In here looks gorgeous," Erica said excitedly. "You have really spruced up the place."

  "Thank you kind ma'am." Caleb indicated to the table. "Your four-course dinner awaits."

  Erica squealed. "You cooked for me?"

  "Yes I did," Caleb headed to the kitchen. "Please have a seat. I would have lit a candle but I forgot to get one at the supermarket."

  Erica headed to the table with her mouth opened; she snapped it closed and murmured. "Gorgeous utensils, scrumptious smelling food."

  "Aunt Reba's silverware," Caleb said from the kitchen, "and most of the food came from the land. He came out of the kitchen with a smile in his eyes. I was just checking on dessert. I think it would make a wonderful addition to the meal. I figured you wouldn't mind since you are so slim and all."

  "You noticed!" Erica squealed.

  Caleb nodded. "There is little about you I don’t notice, Erica."

  He said it so gently that for a moment Erica stared at him transfixed. Did this mean that he liked her as a potential partner?

  She cut eye contact with him and turned back to her empty plate. "So what is that?" She pointed to a dish with what looked like dainty golden fried fish with a side sauce.

  "Let's pray before we begin…" Caleb said solemnly.

  Erica nodded.

  "Okay, your hors d'oeuvres is fish fingers with dill tartar sauce. Enjoy."

  Erica grinned. "Okay master Chef. She took up the fish and dipped it into the sauce," her eyes widened and then closed in pleasure.

  Caleb nodded, satisfied that she was enjoying the food. She groaned in pleasure all the way through the platter.

  "You really can cook," Erica said wiping her mouth with a napkin.

  "I know and thank you," Caleb looked at her intently. "When I first arrived in St. Ann it was a bit hectic. I had an overgrown yard, no money, and no friends, and then I met a girl named Erica… would you like to try the jerked chicken, mashed potato, and corn salad?"

  Erica groaned in her head. Then you met Erica and what?

  "Erica?" Caleb asked. "Don’t tell me you are full already?"

  "No...No," Erica started sharing the food onto her plate, "I was just wondering, after you met Erica, what?"

  "Oh," he sighed, "I think you are a great friend."

  Erica slowly put down her fork. "Is that all I am to you?"

  Caleb looked at her seriously and then looked away. "I have never really talked about why I came to St Ann, destitute and with only the clothes on my back. You have never pressed and I am grateful for that."

  Erica nodded. "I thought you would say something when you are good and ready."

  Caleb sighed. "I have dreaded having this conversation with you."

  "Just tell me," Erica said exasperated. "How bad can it be?"

  Caleb shrugged. "Bad enough." Then he gave her one of his lopsided smiles. "Eat up, this is actually my way of saying how special you are. I never just cook for any woman you know."

  Erica smiled. "Uhm, I was wondering…are you gay?"

  Caleb's eyes widened in shock. "No, why would you
think that?"

  "Because you have never really… do you like me like a girl you are attracted to or just like a buddy who helps you clean?"

  Caleb laughed. "I like you too much Erica. I am actually happy that I have so many tasks to do around the house so that I don’t have to sit and mope about our differences."

  Erica's heart leapt with joy, her brown eyes lit up and she exhaled loudly. "That's a relief. For a moment there I thought I was pursuing you like a hungry puppy and you didn't feel anything for me at all. What differences are you talking about?"

  "Well let's see," Caleb scratched his chin. "You are a lovely respectable woman with a generous heart. You are beautiful both inside and out. People like you; a room comes alive when you walk in it. The crowd sways toward you."

  Erica started to fan with her napkin. "Go on..."

  "You are from a stable family background with a rich father who has a chain of supermarkets and a mother who makes perfume in her spare time. They love you and are protective of you. You are saving up to buy a house and you have a career."

  Caleb got up from the table. "I am broke, I have no job, only a business plan floating around in my head and most importantly I don’t have good relationships with women."

  He started pacing. "My mother, my father's girlfriends, my own relationships in the past," then he said quietly, "my ex-wife."

  Erica was speechless. "You have a wife?"

  Caleb chuckled bitterly. "She's an ex."

  Then he came and sat at the table. "This is edging closer to that conversation I don’t want us to have."

  Erica swallowed nervously. "This explains a lot."

  "Not really. Until you came into my life, I hated all women bitterly. I remembered praying to God one night, asking him to show me a way to get the bitter evil thoughts about women out of my head. I lumped all women into one category. They can't be trusted, and they were a waste of space, but then came Erica. She accepted me wholeheartedly, without conditions, and at first I looked and looked for some flaw but I really couldn't find any."

  Erica's eyes pleaded with him. "So why are you keeping me at arms length. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not getting any younger." She grinned at that and then looked a worried Caleb in the eyes. "The point is, you have ambition…at least you share some of your dreams with me. You want to have a better future; I understand that…I can work with that. My family background shouldn’t be an issue. Usually my parents are content to let me choose who I want to be with. I would live in a tent with you in the back of a dumpster if you wanted me to."

  Caleb held her hand and squeezed it. He opened his mouth and then squeezed her hand again with a sigh. "Let us finish our meal. I have a surprise for you."

  Erica closed her eyes in frustration. "Okay."

  They ate in silence and then Caleb excused himself and went into the kitchen. He returned with two dessert plates, a piece of chocolate ganache on each.

  "Wooh la la," Erica whistled. "You made chocolate ganache."

  Caleb placed it before her. "I was planning to wait for your birthday next month but I couldn't wait. The chocolate came from the cocoa that you helped to pick and the cream came from the goats."

  Erica licked her lips and dug into the gooey rich dessert. "You really are an outstanding pastry chef," she said after licking clean the spoon she had dug into the chocolate.

  "I really am," Caleb said longingly. "When I made this I missed the kitchen desperately."

  "Why won't you work for a hotel?" Erica asked him seriously. When she asked him in the past he usually clammed up. She tensed in anticipation of his answer.

  "My reputation is in shambles," Caleb said solemnly.

  Erica waited for him to elaborate but didn't push, she wanted to know what could be so bad that he didn't want to work in a hotel ever again—she felt like shaking the information out of him.

  However, she realized that Caleb wasn't very talkative about his past or his emotions and she feared that if she pushed too hard he would push her away. For months she had been waiting for some indication that he found her attractive but now that she had it she realized that pushing him wouldn't be a good thing—she felt like screaming. The tension in the room kicked up a notch as she waited for him to elaborate.

  She threw up her hand in the air. "You are taking this avoidance thing too far."

  She saw his expression tighten and she grunted. "Is there anymore ganache in the kitchen?"

  "Sure," Caleb said sighing in relief. "You have worked very hard on your new figure, don't spoil it."

  "I won't," Erica said heading for the kitchen, "besides we still have a lot of work to do on your land, I can always burn off the calories."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  It was a Thursday, Erica's day off from work; she spent it tidying up the house. It was amazing to her how much dust accumulates in a place when it's neglected. She was in the process of cleaning the master bedroom when she heard a car drive up in the driveway. When she peered through the window, she saw that it was her father. He was clad in his regular golfing outfit of polo shirt, khaki pants, and a hat that read 'hole in one'. He looked over the yard and then looked up at the window.

  "Come and open the front door, Erica, and stop peeping at me through the window."

  "How did he even know I was peeping," Erica mumbled. She could never get anything to slip by her father when she was growing up and it seemed he still had that uncanny knack of knowing her every move.

  She hurried to the front door. She was in one of Kelly's old singlet tops and shorts. "Morning," Fred grunted. "I see the young man that you hired is doing a good job with the yard."

  "Morning to you too my darling. I have not seen you for two weeks. How are you doing?" She mocked her father and headed to the kitchen.

  Fred scratched his head. "I spoke to you yesterday. You were heading home from that man's house again. So what if he made you chocolate ganache, we still don’t know anything much about him."

  "Ah Dad," Erica frowned, "did Mom put you up to this?"

  "More or less," Fred said sitting down at the bar and removing his cap. "I was on my way to golf with Herbie and King when she started harping on and on about you and this man you are seeing. She ordered me to talk some sense into you."

  Erica giggled. "You may proceed."

  "Well er..." Fred sighed, "I have never been good at these little female issues that are so important to your mother, but since I am being blamed for the sins of my youngest…her cheating on her husband and having her lover's baby..."

  "She blamed you for that?" Erica asked. "Is Mom sniffing something?"

  "No, actually it was my golf playing that was to be blamed. If I wasn't so obsessed with golf my daughters would be fine and life would be perfect. There would be no crime and all men would live in peace."

  Erica laughed. "Would you like something to eat?"

  "Nah," Fred said fanning her off, "this is a brief visit. I just wanted to ask… is this man genuinely converted? I mean, he comes to church but do you know if he loves God? Or is he looking for handouts from the church, and more particularly... you."

  "I think he is genuine," Erica said earnestly. "We pray together in the mornings before we start working and he talks about God as if he has a true connection with him. He doesn’t swear…he is always polite and I am dying for him to make an indecent advance on me."

  Fred's eyes widened. "Okay, but why is he using you in the bushes as his day worker? What's so secretive about his past that we can't know? Suppose he is a cunning user, like that guy Jay-Jay that you were so into two years ago?"

  Erica shook her head. "Jay-Jay was willing to get married even though he was already married because I told him no sex before marriage. Jay-Jay was on a different plane of existence. I think Caleb has been hurt before and is just extremely cautious with people, especially women."

  "You sure know how to pick them," Fred said standing up. He walked toward Erica and stopped before her. "I love you," he gripped her shoulder
s, "no matter how old you get you are still daddy's little girl."

  "I know. I love you too."

  "That's why," Fred said, "I am going to order a background check into this guy, Caleb Wright." He headed for the door. "Have a nice day hun." He put the cap back on his head.

  "But Daddy…" Erica protested. "I don't want that. I want him to tell me what is going on."

  Fred chuckled. "That's the difference between me and you, darling. I love you, not Caleb. Your welfare is more important to me than anything. When I hear something from the private investigator I will let you know." He walked out the house, a skip to his step.

  "Well thanks a bunch, Mom." Erica mumbled to herself. Her mother knew exactly what she was doing when she sent her father on this guilt trip.

  But when she sat down for a while and thought about it, it wouldn't be so bad to know what Caleb's secret was about, it would make her life a lot easier if she knew what she was dealing with.

  *****

  Caleb was sitting under a cocoa tree, its shade offering him some reprieve from the relentless sun. He was contemplating his options. Last night when he had cooked that dinner for Erica it brought him back to a peaceful place, a place that he was comfortable in, a place he loved. He loved being a chef, he loved working with food, throwing ingredients together, and creating a masterpiece. Cooking was an art and he loved that medium of expressing himself.

  He looked up into the cocoa tree. As much as he was enjoying the farming that he has been doing in the last couple of months, he was much more comfortable in the kitchen. Initially, when he had seen the acres of cocoa he was excited about harvesting and processing it and everything that came along with the process, but now he realized that what he had been really excited about was the end of the process when he had pure rich chocolate and turning it into decadent treats.

  It was now solidified in his mind—he wanted to cook. That's what he wanted to do forever; it was his life's calling. There was nothing that could quite get his adrenalin flowing like a busy kitchen. He sighed. He had plenty of cocoa on the trees. He needed to find out from Farmer McGregor how to get it to the factory.