"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."
Donnie reached for the sticker, and then looked at his brother as though he'd lost his mind. Surveying the array of ingredients on the long counter, he asked what Adam was preparing; Adam liked to cook, but he generally didn't go for elaborate meals, and this one looked like it required everything but the kitchen sink.
"Alicia's coming over and she's making paella. If you behave yourself she might let you stay," Adam replied. Alicia Fuentes was Adam's business partner and best friend. They were both architects who not only designed new buildings, but had a passion for reclaiming neglected and abandoned structures. They had been friends since college and enjoyed an exceptionally close personal, as well as a working, relationship.
"So, Adam, when are you going to admit that Alicia is the only woman in the world for you? When are y'all gonna take it to the next level?" Donnie drawled.
Adam stroked his thick mustache with a forefinger and fixed his brother with an icy stare. He was an extremely private person when it came to his love life and he didn't appreciate inquisition, even from a family member. "You're my brother and I love you. I may even like you, but Alicia is not a topic for discussion now or ever. Got it?"
Donnie was saved from answering by three short chimes, which meant Alicia was at the door; they didn't have to answer it, as she had her own key, just like Adam had a key to her place. In seconds a tall, shapely woman carrying two shopping bags joined the two men. Donnie took her coat while Adam divested her of the bags. "Hi, Donnie!" she said cheerfully. "Are you staying for dinner?" She accompanied the words with a brief kiss on his cheek.
"Yes, if I'm invited. I love anything you cook, Alicia, you know that." She'd learned to cook from her African-American mother and Cuban father. Thanks to them, Alicia had a grasp of cooking that rivaled that of a Cordon Bleu trained chef. While watching Alicia wash her hands and Adam empty the shopping bags, Donnie remembered that Angelique hadn't given him a gift from his sister; she had told him she'd planned to drop it off at his house, but, since he was being snippy, he could instead pick it up at the open house she and Paris were having the day after New Year's.
Alicia looked up to find him with a dazed look on his face, and playfully snapped a dish towel at him. "Hey, you. If you eat, you work. Put on the Buena Vista Social Club CD and an apron. How are you at scrubbing mussels?"
Soon the lilting sounds of Cuban music filled the loft and the three of them were busy putting the savory paella together. All thoughts of spurned engagements and feisty little women from Atlanta vanished and Donnie once again felt like himself. Unfortunately, the effect didn't last very long.
***
Paris and Angelique observed New Year's Eve very differently than most people; they had evolved a unique way of celebrating over the past few years. Neither one of them liked the idea of going out trying desperately to have a good time, so when Paris moved to Atlanta, she and Angelique began going to church to pray in the New Year with a quiet family worship service, and then spent the evening with family, usually at Bennie and Clay's home. The next day would be an open house at Lillian and Bump's house where everyone wandered in and out and the men congregated in front of the big-screen television for a football orgy. This year would mark their first New Year's in Detroit, but their plans were about the same.
"Paris, are you ready? We need to leave early so we can get a seat," Angelique called out. She was ready to go, sitting in the kitchen watching CNN on the small television mounted under the cupboards. She was dressed exquisitely as always, and warmly, too, in a simple black skirt that buttoned all the way down one side, a pair of low-heeled black boots and a cashmere sweater in a luscious shade of raspberry pink that made her toffee skin glow. She wore a simple gold chain with a big pearl dangling from it, and matching pearl studs in her ears.
The only jewelry on her hands was a dainty gold ring with a small pearl, bordered by two tiny peridots, which were her birthstone. She also wore two slender bangle bracelets, a silver one on one wrist and a gold one on the other. The ring had been given to her as a child and she always wore it on special occasions; she never took the bracelets off. Her nails were short and neatly shaped with a clear polish as their only adornment; Angelique used her hands too much to fuss with elaborate manicures. Now her fingers anxiously stroked the soft leather of the cashmere-lined kid gloves that lay on the table with her scarf, gloves and purse. "Paris, what are you doing?" she called in exasperation.
It was ironic the way their roles had reversed over the years. A few years ago Paris would have been cooling her heels while Angelique took her own sweet time to make sure every hair was in place and her makeup was perfect. Paris would have had her customary quick shower, thrown on one of her oversized outfits, pulled her hair into a ponytail and been ready to go while Angelique primped. It had never bothered Angelique one bit to keep people waiting, as she liked making an entrance too much to worry about being on time. But now it actually meant something to her to be on time. A.J. had taught her the importance of being reliable in business, and that meant always being prompt. Being prompt meant you took your job seriously and you respected the people with whom you were working. And it meant you respected yourself as well.
Paris appeared in the kitchen with an apology on her lips. "Sorry it took so long. Let's go!" In short order the two women were on their way to the A.M.E. church they attended with the Cochrans. The midnight watch service was spiritually moving and uplifting, and also shorter than the one that took place on Sunday mornings. Afterward everyone went over to Andre's house for a midnight buffet and a quiet family celebration. Andre and his twin brother, Alan, usually hosted the New Year's festivities. There would be a traditional New Year's dinner at Alan's the next day, with the usual attention to the various bowl games.
Even Donnie was less grumpy after the religious service; at least he was until he caught a glimpse of Angelique. She was talking to his father and stepmother and looked good enough to eat. And, he noticed for the first time, she had more booty than he realized; he actually cocked his head to one side and was staring at her high, tight derriere in the slim-fitting black skirt like he'd never seen a fanny before. Fortunately, only Adam caught him doing so. He had materialized next to Donnie and seemed vastly amused at the look in Donnie's eyes.
"Stop staring, bro, you're beginning to drool," Adam said slyly.
Busted. There wasn't anything Donnie could say when he'd obviously been caught doing exactly what Adam said he was doing. He narrowed his eyes at his brother and slunk off to the buffet table, but it wasn't an escape because Angelique was there, busily filling two plates with food. He watched her in silence for about two seconds, then commented on her gargantuan appetite.
"This is for Miss Martha and Mr. C," Angelique said, without looking at him. "Older people don't like to mess around with buffets, you should know that" She managed to take the two plates of food with napkins and utensils to where his father and stepmother waited, all without looking at him one time.