Loose Ends Part 4

Kree blushed and looked at me with love and devotion reflected in her eyes. We hadn't been seated long when our waiter came over and took our dinner and drink orders. I chose for both of us.

We sat and sipped our white wine in a comfortable silence. I had purchased an entire bottle to start off our celebration. At one point she entwined her hand with mine. A warm, radiant feeling engulfed me. So many men searched high and low to find a woman who loved them unconditionally. I found that in Kree.

I know for a fact that she'd do almost anything, shy of murder, to keep me happy and satisfied. Sometimes I ask her to do things in bed that she doesn't really want to do. Under different circ.u.mstances, she probably wouldn't do them, but Kree loves me and lives to please me. Lately, I've had all these fantasies that I wanted to act out. I admit, s.e.x is very important to me.

"Listen, baby, in all the excitement, I forgot to tell you I talked to Christian today."

"And . . . ?"

"Well, we are meeting with them next Sat.u.r.day at eight P.M."

Kree didn't say anything at first. She looked away so I couldn't see the expression on her face.

"Kree?"

"What, Brice?" she asked, slightly annoyed.

"Is that cool?"

"Do I have a choice? This is what you want, right? It's all you've talked about since we moved here."

"Baby, you have a choice. I don't know why you'd think that," I said a bit perturbed.

"Probably because you always get what you want, when you want it. But yeah, that's cool. Okay, baby?"

"All right, now let's celebrate." I winked at her and put my left hand on her thigh. She smiled and discreetly parted her legs, and the split in her dress opened to reveal more of her thigh. My hand drifted a little higher and I felt heaven!

The rest of the evening was uneventful. Kree and I finished off the bottle of wine, feasted on Creole gumbo, talked and people-watched. At one point we spotted radio personality Frank Ski and members of his morning crew. They could barely make it to their table without people stopping them and shaking their hands.

When Kree started rubbing my back in small, then large circles, I knew it was time to go. Kree leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I want you to take me home now and f.u.c.k the living daylights out of me." Then she reached under the table and squeezed the merchandise. Alcohol always has that effect on her. With a smile on my face, I left a generous tip and grabbed her hand, "I'll be happy to oblige."

Needless to say, the remainder of the night was spent dancing between the sheets. As I entered the condo, I put on a couple of smooth CDs, grabbed another bottle of wine from the refrigerator and had Kree undressed before twenty minutes pa.s.sed. After another gla.s.s of wine, Kree was ready. She was all over me, trying to get me to do her. Kree was begging for it. I love to mess with her when she is like this. I told her before I'd give her any, she had to do something for me.

In no time at all I was standing in the middle of our bedroom floor, naked, while Kree got down on her knees, opened her mouth wide, and sucked my d.i.c.k like a pro. Afterward, Kree got her wish, two times. We both fell asleep with smiles on our faces, entangled in each other's arms.

Kree.

"Mother, don't you think I've asked myself that same question over and over again? I don't know why Brice has this obsession with meeting them," I said as Mother ranted and raved relentlessly.

"What's the point? It doesn't make sense. There has to be some motivating factor."

"Brice claims he wants to make right some wrongs he caused in the past. Plus, he misses the brotherhood he and Christian shared. They literally grew up together!"

"Well, I don't like it one bit. And I'm going to go on record as saying so. You are just asking for trouble, girl."

"What am I supposed to do? If I don't go, he'll just go by himself."

"What do you mean, what are you supposed to do? Haven't I taught you anything? Child, use your womanly wiles. You always underestimate yourself. Do what you gotta do to get your way."

"Mother!"

"Mother, my a.s.s. Don't give him any. Keep your legs closed. Don't even let him get a feel. It works wonders."

I didn't say anything in response to her solution. I quietly bit my fingernail.

"Kree, did you hear me? I can't believe you haven't learned anything from me. I had your daddy trained until the day he died, G.o.d bless his soul."

"Well, it doesn't work that way around here. Anyway, I'm somewhat curious about his ex."

"Well, be curious from a distance. Don't go up into her home, on her turf. Remember, she used to lie down with your husband, and Brice used to make love to her. If he's as good as you tend to make him out to be, then she hasn't forgotten either. You know women don't forget the ones who made them call out the name of Jesus and come at the same time. I know I haven't. I wish I could find old Freddy again now that your daddy is gone on. He's probably dead and buried, though."

I had to laugh at that. "Mother, you're a mess."

"No, I just tell it like I see it, and you'd better open up your eyes before it's too late."

"Mother, please! She's happily married to Christian."

Mother and I talked awhile longer as we always did, at least once, sometimes twice a week. My mother is a certified trip. She's off the chain. In fact, some of the things she says to me were more like a girlfriend talking to another girlfriend instead of mother to daughter. We've always been like that. She's like a best girlfriend. Maybe her being in her early fifties makes a difference.

When Daddy was alive, Mother kept him on his toes. My mother doesn't mince words or feelings; she keeps it real, too real at times. When Daddy pa.s.sed away two years ago from colon cancer, I thought she would be lonely. I think she grieved for a minute, but it didn't take long for her to get back into the swing of dating. I wasn't surprised. Mother is a cla.s.sy, cultured and beautiful lady. I was shocked at how many younger men tried to step to her.

When Brice and I returned to the States, we stopped by for a week's visit. Much to my surprise, Mother had a lover. I was thoroughly embarra.s.sed when I woke up one night, walked into the kitchen to get a drink of water and heard them getting it on. Talk about loud; you would have thought the man was killing her. Miss Drama Queen. Yeah, my mother's a mess, but I love her to death!

I think she regrets that I'm not as aggressive as she'd like me to be. She says I let people walk all over me. Maybe she's right; maybe I do. Sometimes I wonder if I'm truly her daughter. However, I'm not about to cut my husband off from s.e.x. If anything, our active s.e.x life is bringing him home each night. I don't like some of the stuff he wants me to do in bed, but I do it anyway to please him. I'm not a fool. I see how women check him out from head to toe when we go out. Brice is fine! Women are bold! Some still won't turn away even when I catch them looking at my husband!

I got shudders from thinking about last night. It was so good, too good. Brice had me calling out to G.o.d, Jehovah and Sweet Mary, Mother of Jesus. It felt so wonderful that I started to cry on his shoulder, and shortly afterward we were at it again.

I hung up with promises to Mother that I'd be cautious and not go into this entire situation blindly. I'm not exactly thrilled about it either. I have a nagging feeling that these two people whom I have never met are going to change my world.

Mia.

It's hard to believe it's already mid-April. The school year has flown by. It's going to be a typical hot summer in Atlanta, because the temperatures are already breaking record highs for spring. Each evening, after school, I changed into shorts to cook dinner. Christian calls them my Daisy Dukes. During the summer I live in shorts, halter tops and sandals. Anyone who knows me knows I'm definitely a no-frills type of person. My motto is, Less is better.

I never wear a lot of jewelry either. Usually I wear my wedding set, my diamond-stud earrings or my gold hoops and a cross pendant that Christian had given me years ago. The cross pendant is still my most cherished piece of jewelry because it belonged to his moms before she pa.s.sed away. Christian is so sweet and thoughtful and always makes occasions special and memorable.

To say the last few weeks had been very hectic is an understatement. Preparing my students for final exams, report cards and end-of-school matters was keeping me too occupied to focus on our upcoming meeting with him. Christian seemed to be happy and wasn't dwelling on it either. Yet the date was fast approaching. He was still working crazy, long hours. So our hours together were cherished and few and far between. It still amazes me that we can talk for hours and hours on end about anything and everything and nothing at all. Lyric is growing more adorable each and every day. Yes, I'm biased. Our baby is our heart. Lyric has already learned how to manipulate her daddy to get her way. There is no doubt Christian loves her to no end. She is definitely Daddy's little girl.

Every evening he makes a special effort, no matter how tired he is, to play with her or read to her. It's their time together. On the nights Christian got in too late, I'd found him on several occasions, simply staring at her as she slept. That always warms my heart to no end.

The other evening I had gone out to happy hour-which is something I rarely ever do-with another coworker, a fellow teacher, whom I considered a good friend. Sharon had been bugging me for months about going with her to Taboo. Since Christian was working late and Mama had agreed to keep Lyric for the evening, I decided to hang out and do the club thing. Sharon was pleased! The woman is a complete party animal. Talk about wild. Look in the dictionary under the word wild and you'll see a photo of Sharon.

She's a trip, but I love her just the same. Sharon is a tall-we're talking five-ten-big-boned woman, whom you usually heard before you saw. Yeah, she talks a lot of s.h.i.+t. Yet she's the most giving and free-hearted person I've ever met. She'd give you the s.h.i.+rt off her back. In my book, that's saying a lot.

It's amazing how Sharon manages two personalities. At work, she is a true professional adored by her students and praised by their parents and the faculty alike. Outside of work, the woman is about having a good time. Give her two drinks-her favorite is a Cosmopolitan-and she gets louder than loud. Whenever we go out, there's never a dull moment.

Thinking back, I don't know why Sharon chose me to be her best friend, because we're so opposite in lifestyles. I'm happily married with a child, and Sharon is independent, never married, with no children. She likes it that way; she can come and go as she pleases. The only thing she needs a man for is biweekly maintenance. If that fails . . . oh, well, she's good to go as long as she has AA batteries in stock. Those are her words, not mine. She says that her toy may have been a little impersonal, but it got the job done.

Sharon was hired my second year of teaching at Fairfield. She introduced herself to me in the teacher's break room and said she was going to be my new best friend, and the rest is history. Christian loves her like a sister and treats her like one too. They have a big-brother, little-sister relations.h.i.+p going.

Tonight she had me sitting in Taboo waiting for karaoke night, hosted by Wanda Smith. The place was crowded for a Tuesday night. Everyone was in a festive party mood. Sharon was nursing her second Cosmopolitan and I was working on my first screwdriver.

"Girlfriend, I'm glad I got you out of that house tonight. Tell Christian to let you come out for air once in a while. Y'all are like a li'l old couple, right under each other all the time."

We both laughed, as friends do, Sharon a bit too loud.

"I know, I know. I live a sheltered life; I need to get out more. I'll never be the life of the party like you are, girlfriend."

"Don't apologize; just sit back and take notes. I'm up for my biweekly maintenance and I'm badly in need of a sponsor." She laughed like it was the funniest line in the world.

"Girl, you're crazy." I laughed as I looked around at the crowd. Atlanta has such a wide gap in its women-to-men ratio. I think it's something like eight to one. Usually women outnumber the men at most events. I'd hate to be a single black female in Atlanta. But I don't have those worries. I have my Boo, and I knew exactly where he was tonight.

"Seriously, Mia, what's the deal? You haven't been yourself these last few weeks. You've been distracted about something. Come on; come clean," Sharon said with serious concern etched on her face.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Yes, it's that obvious. Something is going on. You're not my usual cheery friend that I've come to know and love."

"I don't know, girl. I guess I'm just nervous about this upcoming meeting."

"And you have every right to be. You're a better person than me. I would curse his a.s.s out, tell him to f.u.c.k off, and keep on going. No love lost."

"I bet you would." I laughed.

"h.e.l.l, yeah, all that s.h.i.+t he put you through. Treating you like nothing. On second thought, no, actually, I'd get revenge and f.u.c.k him up."

We laughed at the possibility. "Seriously, Sharon, I'm having mixed feelings. I keep telling myself that I'm doing this for Christian, but deep down I want to see him again. I want him to see Christian and me together and see how happy we are. I want him to bear witness that he didn't ruin my life."

"Girl, I wish I could be a fly on your wall. What are you wearing?" she asked in all seriousness.

I looked at Sharon in disbelief. "I don't know. My wardrobe is the least of my worries."

"Think, Mia, think. You have to wear something real s.e.xy. Something that shows him what he missed out on and can't touch again. Ever. You've got to be looking your best."

We both turned to the stage as a lady approached the stage dressed in black with hair down her back like Diana Ross. She took the microphone and announced that she was going to sing "Fallin'" by Alicia Keys.

My thoughts drifted back to Brice while Sharon gave her full attention to the stage. It's amazing that we made it through two and a half years of marriage. Brice was a definite control freak, and I was his number one controlee.

Looking back, I loved Brice with everything I had-and then some. I was young, naive, and probably had some unrealistic views about love and marriage. I thought my love for Brice could solve all problems, resolve all our conflicts. Unfortunately, our problems were too deep for my love alone. In the bitter end, my heart was broken beyond repair, and a part of me, that part deep, deep down, was forever lost.

Brice was like a chameleon. On one hand, he could be so loving, so romantic and devoted to my every need. Yet, at the toss of a coin, his temper, possessiveness and jealousy would overshadow everything else. It was his way or no way. Brice ran our household with an iron grip. His word was law. I tried to deal with it because I loved him. I did what he wanted, when he wanted, where he wanted and how he wanted. In return I received his love. However, that wasn't enough. It just wasn't enough. When his paranoia would come into play, I suffered from his beatings.

Brice never trusted me around men or women. I admit I used to be a bit of a flirt. Brice felt some man was going to steal me away, and the females, in his opinion, were just bad influences on me. So I didn't have a life other than with him. For me, that wasn't enough.

If I didn't do something, anything he wanted, I suffered. If I did something that was a figment of his imagination, I suffered. Either way, I lost. Brice, at one point, totally controlled my existence. That crazy m.u.t.h.af.u.c.ka would make me strip down out of my underwear so that he could smell my coochie to make sure I hadn't slept with anyone. He would hit me one moment and, in his next breath, turn around and make the sweetest love to me. It's amazing how some good loving will make a woman stay around much longer than she should.

Throughout history, women have stuck around with the bad boy, the one who shows them no love, no respect, no wining and dining, no nothing. We stick around because we don't want to give up their boning us. We can get screwed by any man, but we find one who has skills and knows how to fine-tune our body like a violinist tuning his instrument and we don't want to give him up.

Our cycle continued far too long. Some of the s.h.i.+t that man made me do . . . And I did it for him. Don't get me wrong: When he was good, Brice was very good. I can't deny that he made me happy. Unfortunately, there were far too many unhappy times. Sad to say, it took my ending up in the hospital after he beat the s.h.i.+t out of me for me to literally see the light.

Throughout all of this, there was Christian-my one true light. I had his strong shoulders to lean on. Christian was my sounding board and true friend. It's true that we have no control over whom we love. The heart doesn't know. Before I knew it, I was in love with Christian. It's a different love, but a real love. A true love. A love that has evolved because of circ.u.mstances.

Brice was a love that I breathed for. Now he was coming back into my life. After five years, I haven't forgotten him. I still remember his masculine smell, his voice whispering in my ear in the throes of pa.s.sion. I remember his strong hands touching me in intimate places, his lips caressing my body as he went inside me. I remember how he moved inside me and remember how he made me feel when he looked deep into my eyes as I called out his name over and over.

Sharon brought me back to reality with her loud laughter.

"Mia, you haven't heard a word I've said, have you?"

"What? I didn't hear-"

"That's obvious. You are in your own little world over there. If I wanted to come here alone-"

"Okay, okay, what did I miss?" I asked before she went on and on about how I was neglecting her.

"You see the tall, dark-skinned guy over in the far corner?" She boldly pointed him out.

"Yeah?"

"Well, he's the maintenance man for this week. s.e.xy has been giving me the eye all evening. You just watch; I'm going to sample those goods."

Sharon and I talked, laughed and drank some more, compliments of s.e.xy, for another hour or so before I called it a night. True to form, before we walked out the door Sharon had s.e.xy's home, work, pager and cell numbers and a date for later in the week. Amazing. Girlfriend is unbelievable.

Christian.

Brice and I were both quiet while we cruised down I-20 West and listened to V-103 on an early Sat.u.r.day morning. It was like old times again, us back together again. Older and wiser.

Brice broke the silence. "Man, promise me you'll think about it. I'd love to bring you in as a partner. The Two Musketeers together again. Wouldn't that be a trip?" Brice said as we made our drive over to his parents' house.

"I can't make any promises, but I will think about it. It sounds like you have everything planned out to the letter. It would be a great opportunity."

"Well, what's the problem, my brotha?"

"Mia. Mia's the problem," I replied without looking in his direction.

"Man, you can handle Mia."

"Brice, I don't 'handle' Mia. We make major decisions together."

"Hold up. I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying you can convince her that this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. It's too good to pa.s.s up."

"I don't know; we'll see. I'm still trying to get her to think it's a good idea to meet with you. Let me get her used to one idea at a time."

"How's your pops doing, man?" I asked with deep concern. For years he was one of the only male figures I had in my life.

Brice looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "If you stopped by to see Moms more, you'd know for yourself, wouldn't you?"

"Brice, our situation is kinda awkward."

"Yeah, it is, but they never stopped loving you. Moms asks about you all the time. Even when I was in Germany, she'd tell me to call you and work through our problems. When I told her you were stopping by, she was ecstatic."