Just Like Candy. Kimberly Kaye TerryЧитать онлайн книгу.
He didn’t know what had come over his Aunt Mildred when she’d suggested to the board to hire Candy as the center’s director.
Candice Cain had come barreling into his life nine months ago and things hadn’t been the same since.
Aunt Mildred had been in the process of turning the reins of the business over to him and his sister, Milly. She’d told him she’d found the perfect replacement for the previous center’s director, who’d retired.
Girls Unlimited had been one of Mildred’s projects and she’d held a position on the board for years. The board members respected her, just as they appreciated her sizable donations to the center. Therefore, when she’d found a replacement they’d eagerly accepted the young woman without hesitation.
But Davis had enough reservations for them all. There was something about Candy, besides her youthful appearance, that made him question his aunt’s judgment.
She was an intelligent young woman—she had a bachelor’s as well as a master’s degree in psychology and early childhood development. The girls seemed to like her and she’d made some noticeable improvements already in the time she’d been the director.
Still. He wasn’t going to bring Candice into the picture and ask for her help with his daughter. To do so would be a set-up for disaster. He had enough problems with Angelica without adding the complications of Candice.
“I don’t know what the hell is going on with Angel, Milly. What would you do? I’m at a loss. I freely admit it.”
Davis held the receiver propped between his ear and the top of his shoulder as he searched the fridge for something decent to eat.
His housekeeper was on vacation and he hadn’t bothered to go shopping for groceries since his daughter, Angelica, had been spending the last few days with her great-aunt Mildred, after her latest bout of trouble.
With pure disgust, he noticed the refrigerator was all but bare. There was nothing in its hollow caverns but a quart of milk, butter, a half-dozen or so eggs, juice and a carton of vanilla yogurt. He needed to eat something more substantial than yogurt, so he opted for the eggs, milk and butter and hunted for bread.
“French toast will work,” he mumbled after scanning the refrigerator.
“What? Who are you talking to?” his sister asked.
“No one. Who else would be here other than me anyway? Anne’s on vacation and Angel is with Aunt Mildred. It’s just me, myself and I.”
“And I thought I had no sex life.” Although she spoke low, in an aside, Davis heard the comment.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” As he spoke, he deftly cracked the eggs into the Pyrex bowl and added milk.
He moved to the center of the kitchen and removed the pan hanging above the butcher-block island counter, placed it on the stove and added the half-stick of butter.
“Damn…I’m out of real vanilla!” he scoured the cabinet, looking for the spice.
“And I suppose you don’t have any of the fake variety, like a normal man would, huh?”
“Fresh is best. Doesn’t taste right, otherwise. I think I have some nutmeg, that’ll have to work.” He added the powdered spice to his mixture.
He brought out the wire whisk and beat the eggs, milk and spice to a frothy blend before he dunked the thick bread slices into the mix and carefully placed them into the sizzling pan.
“I can smell it through the phone. Just what me and my hips need,” Milly groaned.
“Thanks…but don’t think I forgot your little comment.”
“What comment?”
“About my sex life…or lack of one,” he mumbled and sucked his thumb when he burned it after flipping the French toast over by hand.
The hot butter popped from the sizzling skillet, landing on his bared chest. Uttering a low curse, he jumped away from the stove.
If Milly could see him using his hands and not a spatula, she’d probably revise her opinion about how “uptight” he was.
He knew the impression he gave, to his sister, along with his daughter: that he was conservative, uptight and, if Angelica was right, a stick-in-the-mud.
But what the hell else would any nine-year-old say after she’d been busted skipping school and her father wasn’t jumping up and down cheering over the fact?
He’d done the exact opposite and had gone off in nine different directions, beyond angry she’d done something so stupid.
It made him wonder if he was doing a good enough job with her. Maybe what Anita Watson, her school principal, intimated, was true. Maybe she needed a stronger female presence in her life.
Then again, he knew damn well Angelica’s well-being was not the reason for Anita Watson’s concern.
“My sex life isn’t up for discussion, Mil. Angelica’s behavior is what’s paramount on my mind right now.”
“I know. It’s what’s on mine as well.”
“Did Angelica tell you why she did it?”
“We didn’t talk about it when I spoke with her. I didn’t think it’s was a good idea to talk about it at the time. I think she’s been punished enough.”
“I disagree. I don’t know what the hell to do. She’s skipping school and her entire attitude is changing. It’s like I have a different child, and I don’t like it, Milly. Gail is probably turning over in her grave,” he said and flipped the French toast onto his waiting plate.
“Davis, you’re doing fine. You’ve got to expect this. Most kids go through a rebellious stage; don’t beat yourself up. And Gail isn’t turning in her grave. I don’t think Angel’s behavior has anything to do with her mother being dead. I think if Gail were alive, it would be something else.”
“Yes, I know. You’re probably right, Mil, but lately, I keep remembering what Gail asked me, before she died.”
“That you make sure Angel has a black female role model?”
“Yes, I think maybe she was right.” He thoughtfully chewed the French toast. “Until now, I never gave it much thought. She has you and Aunt Mildred as good role models, so it’s not as though she doesn’t have any females in her life. But when you left, she didn’t have anyone. She lacked a mother figure to talk to and I think it was hard for her. She’s not as close to Aunt Mildred as she is to you.”
“God, I’m sorry, Davis. I didn’t realize the impact on Angel when I left. I was being selfish,” Milly replied, sadness in her voice, and Davis instantly wanted to retrieve his words.
He still wasn’t clear on the reasons Milly had decided, several months ago, to take a hiatus from Strong Construction. She’d left Stanton to visit friends on the west coast for an extended visit, saying that she needed to get away. She’d only recently returned and they hadn’t talked about her reasons for leaving.
“No, Mil, that’s not what I’m saying. It wasn’t your fault. You and I both know Angel started behaving differently before you left Stanton. Besides, you needed to get away,” he replied. “But maybe it’s time for her to have someone around her who can help her with things you and I can’t.”
“Davis, I never thought about that, honestly. Not until Gail said the same thing to me before she died.”
“I didn’t know she had.”
“Yes, she did. She thought it was important for Angel to have a black woman in her life. I agree with her.”
“Why?”
“It’s important. There are some things she’s going to need help with. Things you or I won’t be able