know,” he answered, and received another pat on the cheek.
They quickly said their goodbyes and Malcolm trudged the rest of the way to his father’s old stomping ground. The moment he entered through the doors, the few people remaining all turned in their chairs. Most of them smiled, while the others gave sympathetic shakes of their heads.
He gave everyone an awkward wave.
“There you are, Malcolm,” Gloria said, rounding the corner and rescuing him before the curious descended.
“I didn’t know so many people were still going to be here,” he whispered, trailing behind her military-like march to his father’s office.
“There’s still a lot of work that needs to be done,” she said simply. “A lot of loose ends.”
He nodded and made a quick glance at his watch. Two hours, he reminded himself.
“I saw you sitting in your car,” she went on. “I was beginning to think you were going to chicken out.”
Malcolm’s back stiffened. “It feels a bit too soon to be doing this,” he defended.
“And yet it still needs to be done,” she said, rejecting the excuse.
He huffed under his breath, thinking she was more robot than woman.
Gloria walked over to the far right side of the office where a mahogany bookshelf held a library of his father’s law books. “This was Harmon’s personal collection. I believe it was passed down from your grandfather. I have these containers,” she pointed to a stack of blue Wal-Mart brand plastic tubs. “They are labeled and ready. Over here…” She pointed to another bookshelf. “As you can see, these are filled with Harmon’s personal pictures, awards and other personal effects. Those can go into these labeled clear tubs. I sent Mabel out to find us some bubble wrap and foam popcorn so we can minimize potential damages.”
For that, he did roll his eyes. “I don’t think all that was necessary.”
“Don’t be silly. Of course it was necessary,” she said, and then flittered to another section of the office, where she had more containers labeled. Soon he tuned out her endless prattle and wondered when they were actually going to get down to the business of packing boxes. When she reached the file cabinets and started in on personal tax records versus business travel expenses, Malcolm concluded this was definitely going to take more than a couple of hours.
Amazingly, she didn’t stop there. There was stuff on the desk, in the desk, pictures on the walls, pictures on the shelves. It was all mind-numbingly dull. Which was the only reason Malcolm’s gaze drifted to study Gloria’s petite body sheathed in a tight, gray pencil skirt (as Shawnie called them) and a cloud-white blouse that perhaps had one button too many open.
Every once in a while when Gloria dipped or turned, he would get a peek of a creamy-brown breast or a black lace bra. It was a cheap thrill, but he was more than willing to take it…and enjoy it.
“Maybe I should get us some coffee before we get started,” Gloria suggested, turning and almost catching him staring.
She waited a moment, and then he realized that he was supposed to say something. “I’m sorry. What was that?”
“Coffee?” she asked, folding her arms and pulling her shirt open a bit and exposing a fair amount of what he guessed was a C-cup.
She was still waiting.
He caught and cleared his throat. “Yeah, um, coffee would be great.”
Gloria nodded and placed the clipboard Malcolm hadn’t noticed she held down on his father’s old desk. “How would you like that? Cream, sugar?”
“Black…if you don’t mind.”
Her full lips split into an instant smile. “Just like your father.”
A frustrated sigh escaped his chest before he thought better to contain his irritation.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, unfazed or ignoring the response. “You can go ahead and get started,” she tossed over her shoulder as she headed toward the door.
Malcolm’s gaze traveled down her, taking in her every curve until she slipped out of the door. He sighed and then shook his head clear of the direction his thoughts were heading. He turned around and crashed gazes with his father’s portrait hanging on the wall.
“What?” he mumbled toward his father’s stern expression. “Can’t a man look?”
Drawing a deep breath, Malcolm turned and walked to one of the sturdy mahogany shelves lined with photographs. As his eyes brushed across a collage of images that summed up his father’s life, tears rose unrelentingly.
Family pictures were mixed with his father posing with the president of the United States, the vice president, the speaker of the House and even his father’s good friends, Senator Cayman and Judge Hanlon.
Harmon Braddock in his element.
Was it a life well lived? Had his father accomplished everything he’d set out to do? Was his father happy about the man he’d become?
Malcolm drew in a deep breath, wondering if he would ever know the answer to any of those questions. His father certainly wasn’t the man he’d once idolized.
Selecting one iron-and-glass frame, he studied the photograph he’d known most of his life: the picture of his father and mother on their wedding day. His mother, an extraordinary beauty for any era, clung to and smiled up at her new husband through love-filled eyes. It was as if his mother knew without a doubt she’d married her second half, her heart, her soul mate.
Harmon Braddock held his wife with equal fervor; his promise to love and cherish was evident in his expression. Everyone who’d ever seen this photograph commented on how striking and in love the couple seemed.
To which his father always replied, “How can one not fall in love with Evelyn?”
Malcolm smiled at the sound of his father’s voice echoing from a distant memory while his gaze caressed the picture. He’d always loved this picture, for reasons more clear to him now than ever before. His parents’ love was a rarity. Nowadays, marriages didn’t last as long nor did they seem to strengthen over time. As much as their love was inspiring, though, it was also intimidating.
How did one know without any doubts they’d met their destiny? Malcolm thought he’d met her once but he’d been wrong.
Setting the photo down, he casually glanced at another. Shawnie receiving her law degree from the University of Texas, Ty and Felicia’s official engagement photo…
“Okay,” Gloria said, breezing back into the office with two steaming cups. “Black coffee for you and one hot tea for me.”
Whatever heartache Malcolm experienced was temporarily forgotten when he faced Gloria and noticed in her approach a fuller display of her creamy brown breasts thrust high in a black-laced bra.
“Here you go,” she said, trying to extend the mug out to him a second time.
He lifted
