Read Online North Star by Angeline M. Bishop - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Angeline M. Bishop
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John.”
“Oh, like the apostles,” Caresse said as she coaxed the littlest one from Graham’s shoulders and into her arms. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You, too.” Little John laughed as he played with her gold pendant. “You smell like flowers.
Caresse rubbed John’s curly hair. “Oh. Do you like flowers?”
“No, but they smell okay.”
The boys muffled snickers as Caresse thanked the four-year old. Caresse noticed how Graham watched her as his nephew giggled in her arms. Something in his gaze felt familiar, but she couldn’t place her finger on it.
“Let’s finish this conversation over dinner,” Roland said as he motioned the group into the dining room. “I’m hungry.”
“Me, too. Sit by me, Ms. Caresse,” Mark said, taking her hand.
“No, by me,” Little John pleaded, holding onto her neck tightly.
Caresse patted the young boy on the back. “I’ll tell you what, since I came here with your uncle, I really should sit by him. But I promise to share one of my grandfather’s fishing stories at dinner. How about that?”
The boys yelled with delight and raced to their assigned seats.
Graham leaned over to Caresse and said, “You have some effect on the men around here.”
Caresse smiled as she lowered Little John to the floor. “Are you referring to all men, or a particular one?”
Graham seemed to emanate a playful invitation with his eyes as he inched closer to answer. Suddenly his brother-in-law interrupted by stepping between them and linked his arms in theirs. Roland beamed his biggest Damon Wayans-like smile as he showed them to their seats.
The table was beautifully set with china, silver, and linen napkins, and the tasteful flower centerpiece, along with the sounds of Najee floating from the living room, caused Caresse to wonder if tonight was a special occasion or if Janet and Roland always indulged Graham with such elaborate treatment.
“Everything is so beautiful, Mrs. Walker,” Caresse said as she fingered the Waterford water goblet.
“Thank you, Caresse.” Janet beamed. “But please call me Janet or Jan, whichever you prefer.”
“For weeks, Janet prowled around this house making sure everything was perfect because we haven’t had Graham over for dinner in the two years we lived here,” Roland said as he helped Luke cut his asparagus.
Graham said, “I prefer to take the family out when I stop by.”
“True. Last week, my sweetie finally made him pick a date so she could cook for him. Everything had to be right. She was a Sheridan, after all.” Roland raised his glass and nodded in his wife’s direction. “Sharon Sheridan’s daughter to be exact, and she’s living up to her mother’s type of style and flare, right guys?”
The men and boys at the table agreed heartily as each stuffed their mouth with food.
Sharon placed her hand over her heart and mouthed thank you as she re-filled Graham’s wine glass. “Caresse, my mother was one of the finest hosts in Freehold, New Jersey. She had a way of making simple dinners seem like events and making elaborate parties seem like extravagant productions.”
“Was?” Caresse stopped.
“She died of a stroke a few years ago.”
“You’re paying wonderful tribute to her tonight, Jan.” Roland inclined his head toward his wife.
Several minutes passed in companionable silence. Caresse glanced around the table and watched as everyone ate, talked, and laughed. The boys were taking their time eating, instead of rushing back to their Sony Playstation. She wondered if all of their family gatherings were this much fun.
“What did your grandpa do with an ugly flying fish?” Luke asked, after listening to her grandfather’s fishing tale.
“He was about to toss the hideous thing back in the Peace River when an old beggar approached him and his brother. The poor man had a warm face, but his clothes were tattered and dusty from Florida’s sandy soil. He seemed to be hungrier than they were, so they let
“Oh, like the apostles,” Caresse said as she coaxed the littlest one from Graham’s shoulders and into her arms. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You, too.” Little John laughed as he played with her gold pendant. “You smell like flowers.
Caresse rubbed John’s curly hair. “Oh. Do you like flowers?”
“No, but they smell okay.”
The boys muffled snickers as Caresse thanked the four-year old. Caresse noticed how Graham watched her as his nephew giggled in her arms. Something in his gaze felt familiar, but she couldn’t place her finger on it.
“Let’s finish this conversation over dinner,” Roland said as he motioned the group into the dining room. “I’m hungry.”
“Me, too. Sit by me, Ms. Caresse,” Mark said, taking her hand.
“No, by me,” Little John pleaded, holding onto her neck tightly.
Caresse patted the young boy on the back. “I’ll tell you what, since I came here with your uncle, I really should sit by him. But I promise to share one of my grandfather’s fishing stories at dinner. How about that?”
The boys yelled with delight and raced to their assigned seats.
Graham leaned over to Caresse and said, “You have some effect on the men around here.”
Caresse smiled as she lowered Little John to the floor. “Are you referring to all men, or a particular one?”
Graham seemed to emanate a playful invitation with his eyes as he inched closer to answer. Suddenly his brother-in-law interrupted by stepping between them and linked his arms in theirs. Roland beamed his biggest Damon Wayans-like smile as he showed them to their seats.
The table was beautifully set with china, silver, and linen napkins, and the tasteful flower centerpiece, along with the sounds of Najee floating from the living room, caused Caresse to wonder if tonight was a special occasion or if Janet and Roland always indulged Graham with such elaborate treatment.
“Everything is so beautiful, Mrs. Walker,” Caresse said as she fingered the Waterford water goblet.
“Thank you, Caresse.” Janet beamed. “But please call me Janet or Jan, whichever you prefer.”
“For weeks, Janet prowled around this house making sure everything was perfect because we haven’t had Graham over for dinner in the two years we lived here,” Roland said as he helped Luke cut his asparagus.
Graham said, “I prefer to take the family out when I stop by.”
“True. Last week, my sweetie finally made him pick a date so she could cook for him. Everything had to be right. She was a Sheridan, after all.” Roland raised his glass and nodded in his wife’s direction. “Sharon Sheridan’s daughter to be exact, and she’s living up to her mother’s type of style and flare, right guys?”
The men and boys at the table agreed heartily as each stuffed their mouth with food.
Sharon placed her hand over her heart and mouthed thank you as she re-filled Graham’s wine glass. “Caresse, my mother was one of the finest hosts in Freehold, New Jersey. She had a way of making simple dinners seem like events and making elaborate parties seem like extravagant productions.”
“Was?” Caresse stopped.
“She died of a stroke a few years ago.”
“You’re paying wonderful tribute to her tonight, Jan.” Roland inclined his head toward his wife.
Several minutes passed in companionable silence. Caresse glanced around the table and watched as everyone ate, talked, and laughed. The boys were taking their time eating, instead of rushing back to their Sony Playstation. She wondered if all of their family gatherings were this much fun.
“What did your grandpa do with an ugly flying fish?” Luke asked, after listening to her grandfather’s fishing tale.
“He was about to toss the hideous thing back in the Peace River when an old beggar approached him and his brother. The poor man had a warm face, but his clothes were tattered and dusty from Florida’s sandy soil. He seemed to be hungrier than they were, so they let
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