REUNION
Chapter 13
Class President Jake Hendrickson was talking over the loud speaker system when Derek and Vanessa slipped away from the gathering, giggling like a pair of students cutting class. They could hear Jake thanking the reunion committee as Derek pushed the elevator call button. "We didn't even say 'good-bye' to anyone." Vanessa remarked.
"We'll apologize at the next reunion." Derek stepped aside to let her enter first. "Your place or mine?" He asked with a broad smile.
"I don't know, Agent Morgan." She answered, impishly. "Can I trust you?"
"Not even a little bit." He felt his cell vibrating in his pocket. Checking it, he saw that is was Sarah for the third time this evening. He turned off his phone and pressed the button for the floor where he was staying. If anyone really needed to reach him, they could call the damned hotel, he thought with annoyance, aggravated that she was checking up on him.
Unconsciously, Vanessa took his hand as they exited the elevator and they walked to the room holding hands, just as they used to when Derek would walk her to class. He paused before he inserted his key into the door and asked seriously. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," she replied, excited at the prospect of being with him again.
When the door closed behind them, he took Vanessa in his arms and tenderly kissed her. He unzipped the sleek, blue dress, slipped it off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Caressing her exposed breasts, his passion grew. He wanted her terribly, but controlled his feelings. Slowly, he slid his hands down to her buttocks, pulled down her lace panties, and let them fall. Cupping his hands over her bare derriere, he drew her closer and she felt the hardness of him. A soft moan escaped his lips when she undid his pants and reached inside. Her gently exploring fingers slowly examined each area of his body as she undressed him. She pulled down his briefs. "Oh!" She was startled when she felt the pistol strapped to his right leg.
"I'm sorry," he told her, unstrapping his weapon and placing it on the nearby dresser.
Slightly unnerved, she resumed her seduction. When he was naked, she knelt down on the thick carpet and put her mouth on his erect penis. Derek stiffened.
"N-no!" He said, firmly, backing away.
"I'm sorry, Baby." She apologized. "I forgot that you didn't like it."
When they were teenagers, she used to hear the boys talking about getting "blow jobs." She was naive about such things then but she assumed it was something that all guys wanted. She loved Derek so much she would have done nearly anything to bring him pleasure, but he pulled away back then, too.
He reached down and assisted her to her feet, and they kissed again. With their bare bodies pressed together, the hunger for each other grew, and tender kisses became frenzied. "Oh, please, Derek, please…now," Vanessa pleaded, eager to have him inside her. They were still kissing fervidly when he picked her up in his arms and carried her to his bed.
xxxxx
"Now, why would you want to leave when you can stay and shower with me?" Derek told her, grinning. "I'll wash your back…any other parts you want washed, too." He was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Vanessa get dressed. Her body was as toned and svelte as it was when she was a cheerleader, and the sight of her aroused him. It would take very little persuasion for him to make love to her again.
"Well, I need my toothbrush and besides, I don't have any clothes up here but this prom gown."
Interesting, the profiler thought, that she called her dress her "prom gown." Freudian slip? It had seemed to him that she was trying to recreate the night they never got to spend together. Even the gown she'd worn was the same color as the one she had selected for their prom.
Derek's room key lay on the dresser beside his gun and holster. Vanessa was leery of guns and was unnerved by the sight of it. It caused her to pause for an instant before she picked up the key. She turned and gave him a quick kiss. Playfully, he took her hand and tried to pull her down to the bed with him. "If you really must wear clothes, you can put on one of my tee shirts."
"Derek, be good." She said with mock sternness, and stood up. "I'll be back in twenty minutes."
With an exaggerated frown and a groan of resignation, he replied. "Okay, I'll get a shower and order breakfast."
He watched with pleasure, her fine, firm ass walking out the door before he called down to room service. Fifteen minutes later he was shaved, showered, and dressed in a burgundy shirt and black slacks. He wondered if he was wearing too much cologne. He didn't want to seem like he was trying too hard. He sat down at the table near the windows, which gave him a panoramic view of the city. Looks a hell of a lot better from up here, he mused, as his mind flashed back to his days as a police officer. He checked his cell phone and saw the calls from his sister and one from Garcia. Seeing Penelope's name, he suddenly felt awfully guilty. First, he called Sarah.
"Yes, everything's fine." He told her, with a slight edge in his voice. "Yes, I had a good time." He didn't want to make explanations or talk about Vanessa, and he sure as shit didn't want to tell her that he spent the night with her. "Is everything okay with Ma and Des? No more phone calls from Curtis?" When he was assured there were no problems, he cut the conversation short. "Good. I'll see you tomorrow. We'll have dinner with Mom before I fly out." Sarah started to say something else, probably to ask why he wasn't coming back until Sunday, but he abruptly clicked her off.
He took a deep breath before he called Garcia, hoping he'd sound casual. "Hey, Baby Girl! What's up?"
Penelope had just put some music on the stereo and was about to start her Saturday morning cleaning ritual. For the second Saturday in a row, Morgan called as was dragging out the vacuum. She dashed to turn down the volume on her Carrie Underwood CD. She was nervous when she saw Derek's name on the caller ID. She had tried to call him when she got up, but was sorry that she did. After all, she reasoned, she wouldn't want him to get the wrong idea. It wasn't like she was keeping tabs on him. Really, she wasn't. It was just that she'd been so worried. At first, she was afraid that Derek was going to get hurt, and then…oh, darn, she was ashamed of herself for even thinking it…she was afraid that he wouldn't. Supposed he and Vanessa hit if off again, and suppose… No! She wouldn't let herself even imagine. She just wouldn't.
"Hi, Sugar Buns. How was your party?" She, too, was trying to sound natural.
"I had a good time. Saw a lot of old friends." He knew she wanted to know about Vanessa. He didn't want to lie to her, but he didn't know what to say. Maybe she wouldn't ask.
"Did you take pictures? How was the food?" She felt silly making small talk. She didn't give a rat's ass about the food or seeing any photos of his old football buddies. All she really wanted to know about was 'her.'
"Yeah, I took a few photos. I'll show you when I get back. They had a big buffet dinner, open bar. Pretty good DJ, too. He played mostly old school." Admittedly, Derek had been known to talk some shit to women from time to time, but he would never lie to Garcia, and he knew he'd better get off the phone before he said the wrong thing. "So, uh, tomorrow…"
Okay, Penelope, she told herself. You can't let him got off the phone and not know. Just come out and say it. She had a knot in her stomach but she asked. "Did Vanessa come?" Good God, she hoped she didn't sound desperate.
Derek cleared his throat before he answered to give himself an instant to think. "Uh, yeah, she was there. We sat at the same table and we danced a few times. It was…um, nice."
Why did he hesitate? Alright, she thought. I guess she didn't break his heart. So, what the heck did happen? She knew doggone well he wasn't telling her everything. "What are you going to do today?" And then, because she didn't want to sound too intrusive, she added. "I was about to give my apartment a good cleaning."
"I hooked up with some friends. We're going to hang out today."
Hooked up! He winced, wishing he'd chosen a different expression. He felt like he was digging himself into a hole, and knew he'd better get off the phone. He said, quickly. "You're still picking me up at the airport tomorrow, right?"
"Was I fast enough, Derek?" Vanessa asked, cheerfully, as she came through the door, and he jumped when he heard her. Preoccupied with his phone call, he hadn't realized she'd come in, and he sure as hell hoped that Garcia didn't hear her.
Penelope's fears were confirmed when she heard the female voice, and she had an awful urge to cry. "Yes, I'll be there." She couldn't think of a cute retort and she didn't want to. She just wanted to get off the phone. "Bye."
"Bye."
"I'm sorry. Did I interrupt something?" Vanessa asked, innocently, wondering why he looked so uncomfortable.
"Uh, no, I was just talking to the, uh, computer tech from work. I was making sure she's picking me up at the airport tomorrow."
"Are you sure she isn't more than that," she asked, speculating that Derek may not be as unencumbered as he seems.
Before he had to answer, Morgan gratefully received a reprieve when the bellhop knocked at the door with breakfast.
xxxxx
"Do you want more coffee?" Derek offered, picking up the carafe from the tray that the porter had left on the table.
"Please," she said, meeting his eye as he filled their cups, trying hard to read him. His demeanor had changed since she'd come back to the room. Did it have something to do with the phone call? He was quieter. Sitting at the window table eating breakfast, they chatted, but they spoke like strangers chatting at a bus stop. Finally, she had to ask. She reached out and put her hand on his. "Derek, what's wrong?"
He sat back in his chair and studied her for a time before he answered. God, she was a pretty woman. There was a gentleness about her that reminded him of his mother. Being with her again, he'd put the hurt of how they ended behind him and had only enjoyed the moment. Unfortunately, talking with Penelope snapped him back to actuality. He and Vanessa needed to discuss what happened.
Smiling wistfully, he began." You know, "Nessa. I remember when I'd see you come into church on Sundays with your family. If you sat at a pew ahead of me, I'd watch you during the entire service. I loved your blond hair, the way it fell on your shoulders and bounced when you moved. I'd dream about touching it to see if it was as soft as it looked." He sheepishly admitted. "I had a crush on you long before I met you in the hallway. And when you talked to me that day, I swear to God, my knees got weak. I think I fell in love with you at that moment."
Vanessa looked down and stirred her coffee, embarrassed, but acutely aware that he called her 'Nessa,' just like he used to and that said that he loved her.
"And when you came in and sat with me in the lunch room…Phew!" He shook his head in disbelief. "I was so nervous I could barely swallow?"
"I know that you were shy and I had to do most of the talking. You were wearing your football jersey and I figured you were a jock, so I just kept asking you sports questions."
He laughed. "You mean you weren't really interested in three step drops and timing routes?"
"Not so much." She confessed. "I was trying to get you to talk to me." She took a sip of her drink. "I was afraid you would think I talked too much. My dad used to call me a 'chatterbox.' He believed that women should be seen and not heard and he used to get aggravated with me."
Morgan was still smiling, but his jaw tightened at the mention of her father. "Your dad? Yeah, I remember him. Met him once. He threw me out of his house one evening."
Vanessa was caught off guard by the change in his demeanor. "I'm sorry, Derek."
Okay, he thought, ask what you've wanted to know for two decades. "Tell me, Vanessa. How did you live with that man for eighteen years and not know he was a racist?"
"What? Derek, I-I don't, uh…how do you…?" She was flustered and didn't know what to answer. She knew her father had told him to leave, but she didn't know that Derek knew why. "What did he say to you?"
Damn it, he could remember it like it was yesterday, and he was upset with himself because he could. He'd dealt with racists and bigots all of his life, and he put that shit in its place. What stung so badly about this incident was that it came from the father of the girl he'd actually dared to dream he might have a future with. He shrugged, trying to act as though he wasn't as angry as he was. "He told me you were sick and you couldn't go out. He was fairly polite at first. When I told him I'd just talked to you on the phone, he gave me attitude and told me to leave."
"I'm sorry." She repeated, not knowing what else to say. She looked out the window, ashamed by her father's behavior and unable to meet his gaze. But, why did he ask about racism, if her dad didn't say anything about color? She understood when he continued.
"I was stunned. I didn't know what was going on, so when your old man got nasty, I just left. After I had a few minutes, I called your house from the drug store, but whoever picked up the phone just hung up without saying anything. I thought maybe you were mad at me and you had your dad was making excuses for you. I even thought you might have another boyfriend and you dumped my ass to go out with him. I mean, shit, I didn't know what to think. I had forty bucks worth of flowers I'd bought for you on the front seat, and I decided that at least you should have them, so I drove back to your house. I figured if I gave you your bouquet, maybe I could get you to talk to tell me what was wrong."
Derek slowly ran his finger around the edge of his cup. He'd lost his taste for coffee. Shit was probably cold now anyhow. He pushed it way from him and looked at Vanessa. He hated this conversation, but continued. "When I pulled up out front, I heard your old man hollering at you."
"Oh, Derek." She closed her eyes, suddenly realizing what he must have heard. All of these years, she didn't know he knew.
"Hey, the man was just being a protective father, right?" He mocked. "He wouldn't want his daughter taking up with some 'jigaboo.'"
"Oh my God, Derek, I…" She cringed and started to apologize again, but he didn't give her the opportunity.
"So explain to me again how you lived with the man and didn't know that he was so prejudiced?"
"When my dad worked in the prosecutor's office, he used to deal with the lowest element of society. Derek, you must know what that's like from your job. Well, he'd get frustrated sometimes and he'd spout off and use some, uh, racial names. But Derek, I swear I never knew him to be unkind to anyone because of their race or their nationality. I never dreamed that he would…"
"Got it!" He snapped. "Just because the man called a 'spade' a 'spade," you never thought he'd act on it."
"I'm sorry." She repeated, having no idea what else to say to appease him.
"You know, Vanessa, I just wished I'd had a head's up. If I'd known that your old man was a bigot, who wouldn't think I was good enough for his 'lovely' daughter. it would have been helpful. I wouldn't have made a fool of myself or had my 'tender teenage heart' broken."
He spoke the words 'lovely' and 'tender teenage heart' in a mocking tone of voice with his hand over his heart, but sarcasm didn't hide his genuine hurt over what happened, and she felt awful.
"But you know the worst of it, 'Nessa? Worse than being belittled by your redneck racist father…it was you! I thought I would hear from you. At least we could talk things over and you and I might be all right. But, I never fucking heard from you again," he said, incredulously. "Not a phone call, not a note or a letter, nothing! What was I supposed to think? You never came back to school. I had to hear from your friend, Brenda, that you went to Ohio to live with your aunt. My God, I imagined all sorts of things. I thought you were with someone else. Or, maybe I'd gotten you pregnant and they'd sent you away to have the baby. Even worse, that you decided your dad was right and you shouldn't be with someone like me."
Damn it! He hated that he could be angry about something that happened so long ago, or that it still hurt like a mother. And, he hated that he'd made Vanessa cry.
"Please, Derek, let me explain."