Loose Ends Part 8
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From the expression that crossed her face, I knew I had hit a nerve. I smiled inside.
Brice took over. "Kree wants to be a traditional wife. See, that's what's wrong with families these days. Both parents are working, doing their own thing, and so are the kids. They all live in the same house, under the same roof, but that's about it. They don't know each other. The children are raising themselves. That's how these kids can build bombs, go shoot up their teachers, schools and anybody else they don't like. We are going to raise our kids the right way, by being there for them, nurturing them, teaching them morals and values. Our children are going to know we are always there for them."
"Well, Mia does a great job of balancing our family life, raising Lyric and teaching. I think a good balance can be achieved if you work at it," Christian stated, rus.h.i.+ng to my rescue.
I reached for another gla.s.s of wine. I was proud of Christian for coming to my defense. How dared Brice imply I wasn't raising Lyric in the proper manner and being a good mother?
"Christian, you'd better close out Mia's bar tab. You know how she gets when she's had too much to drink."
All eyes fell on me, and everyone thought it was funny except for me. In reality, I never drank a lot, because I grew up watching Mama drink her life away after Daddy had died. Back then I didn't want to end up like her, an alcoholic. When Brice and I were married, I rarely drank, and he knew that.
There was a time in our marriage, toward the end, when my drinking had put me in a compromising position with this soldier named Malcolm. I was drunk and Malcolm tried to take advantage of my impaired state. I paid dearly for that mistake at Brice's hands.
We made it through dinner without any more inside remarks. Christian was an attentive, charming host. Brice talked about his tour of duty in Germany, his new business venture and, of course, sports. When I asked her questions, Kree answered with one-word answers. Other than that, she didn't say too much of anything-to me, anyway. She was more like Brice's decorative piece, who couldn't keep her hands off him. Kree was constantly touching him somewhere. Every now and then, I'd catch her staring at Christian or directing some comment only to him.
Much later, we were all sitting around in the living room after a good meal and excellent wine. We were all mellow, lying back against soft sofa cus.h.i.+ons and listening to Marvin Gaye sing of the problems of the world. The candles were burning low by now and we were chillin'. Christian had his head in my lap while I stroked his eyebrows, and Kree was all but attached to Brice.
I don't know who suggested playing charades to liven things back up, and I can't remember who suggested being on teams. The teams consisted of me and Brice, and Kree and Christian. Some of the movies we acted out called for a little too much touchy-feely for me. However, it was all in fun. Even Kree loosened up some, and I saw a glimpse of her true self. I think if I had met her under different circ.u.mstances, we could have been friends. Under the present circ.u.mstances, I got the sense that Kree felt I was a threat. Christian and Brice were both being compet.i.tive and took the game a little too seriously. When it was all said and done, Christian and Kree won by one game.
I must say, the evening ended on a high note. We were all laughing. Even though Kree and I weren't bosom buddies, she did seem to like Christian, and being in the same room with Brice wasn't freaking me out any longer. I was proud of myself and couldn't wait to tell Sharon all the details. In fact, I knew she'd be calling me first thing the next morning. As the evening came to a close, we made plans to meet again real soon.
Christian "Mr. Pope, did you hear what I just said?" "What? I'm sorry. Repeat that again," I said to Michael, who was one of my best security guys. He had a knack for sensing trouble and being on top of things.
"The sixth-floor situation was a false alarm. The unidentified, suspicious white male worked on that floor. He's new, just started today, and wasn't known by Mrs. Shawford."
We both chuckled and shook our heads. Mrs. Shawford, from the sixth floor, was notorious for spotting so-called suspicious characters in the building or even in the parking garage. She was also known for being totally wrong in most instances. My staff received so many calls from her that they knew her voice now.
My place of employment was in the center of a major street in the heart of Midtown. Our multilevel building housed a banking center, businesses, and several shops and restaurants. Therefore, there was always an a.s.sortment of people in and out for various reasons. There were also a lot of street people who hung out in and around our building. The last couple of months had been rather busy with people walking in off the street, accessing floors without the use of scan cards and stealing unsecured laptops, wallets and purses. The perpetrators would attempt to walk right out the door with the laptops in their gym bags or briefcases. My staff had tightened up on security, and every call, even from Mrs. Shawford, had to be taken seriously.
"Good job, man. Just write it up in your report."
"Sure thing," he said as he walked over to the drawer of files against the wall.
I had been too caught up in my daydreaming to hear Michael when he had entered my small, cramped office s.p.a.ce. Luckily I didn't spend too much time in there. I was attempting, however unsuccessfully, to catch up on some much-needed paperwork when thoughts of Sat.u.r.day filled my mind.
It was the Monday after our little get-together, and I hadn't had the chance to speak with Brice. This was the first time I'd even had the opportunity to sit down. To think. Sunday had been spent doing the family thing after picking up Lyric. Mia and I had gone to a nearby park and let her run around and play for a while.
I felt everything went down cool. I admit, it was awkward at first, but after that initial phase, everybody had a good time. Mia didn't say too much after they left, but she was smiling. So . . . that was a good sign!
As for me, it was weird, if that's the right word to use, seeing them, Brice and Mia, together again. I noticed how my man kept checking out my woman whenever he thought I wasn't looking. Did I feel threatened? No. Jealous maybe, weird yes.
I had high expectations for our get-together. I wanted this to be the beginnings of a new beginning. I admit I missed having Brice and his family in my life. I realized that the day we went to visit his moms. For a minute, even though I didn't tell Mia, I was skeptical of our little reunion. Mia and Kree didn't exactly hit it off. It was ice-cold up in there for a while. However, the more wine consumed, the better the situation got. Barriers started tumbling down.
Kree, just as I a.s.sumed, was a beautiful woman. I wouldn't expect any less from Brice's woman. And Brice had her where he wanted her-wrapped around his little finger. It was obvious that if Brice said jump, Kree would say how high. I don't know how Brice did it. Women would do anything for that man. The tales I could tell. Stuff people wouldn't even believe, stuff I wouldn't believe if I hadn't witnessed it myself.
"Mr. Pope, I'm going to head out and check out P-one, P-two and P-three of the parking garage. Last week we spotted a homeless man who had gotten in somehow and was begging customers for money and trying to open car doors."
"Good idea. Keep me posted," I replied, and looked back down at the s.h.i.+tload of paperwork still waiting for me.
"Man, I hate Mondays," I mumbled to myself.
As a sigh escaped my lips, I realized that I'd better get used to this. Our busiest time of the year was beginning to start. When it got hot, people went crazy. It reminded me of the full-moon syndrome. When there is a full moon, statistics show that the crime rate goes up. I knew from experience that once the temperature goes over ninety degrees, then it's on.
On the other hand, Mia's summer vacation will be starting soon. For three months out of the year, Mia does absolutely nothing. She deserves it, because for the other nine months she's a dedicated, hardworking and caring teacher who makes a difference.
Speaking of Mia, she hasn't said too much about the other night. In fact, she's been unusually quiet. She'll tell me her feelings when she's ready; that's her style. Regardless, I'm so proud of her. She didn't let Brice intimidate her. Back in the day, she pretty much did whatever he told her to. Brice used to take pride in the fact that he kept her in check. On lockdown. Yeah, my baby has come a long way.
And my man Brice . . . well, Brice is Brice. I've known him almost my entire life. He's not going to change; he's still an arrogant m.u.t.h.af.u.c.ka. But hey, that's my partner, and you gotta love him or hate him.
Three hours later, I had accomplished more work than expected. It had been a productive morning and I'd still have plenty of time to prepare the briefings for my afternoon staff meeting.
I picked up a silver-framed photo of Mia smiling seductively into the camera and wiped a smudge off. Suddenly, line one on my phone rang.
"Christian Pope speaking. How-"
"Hey, hey, save the spiel for someone who wants to hear that s.h.i.+t."
Laughing, I said, "Hey, man, what's up?"
"Kree just called and said she doesn't feel good, cramps or something. So she's not bringing me lunch today."
"Man, you actually have your wife bringing you a hot lunch halfway across town every day?" I asked, shaking my head in utter disbelief.
"Man, she volunteered. I told you, my woman loves to please me, in bed and out. Don't hate; congratulate. Anyway, she doesn't do anything else besides spend my money all day. Lunch is the least she can do."
"Well, you just got it like that, my brotha."
"You d.a.m.n right. Afterward, I get served dessert, and I don't mean the edible kind."
"That's right; you don't go there. You don't do the downtown route." I laughed, flipping the script on him.
"Man, things change. I've been known to dibble and dabble there a little now. Kree loves it. Drives her out of her mind, man. She'll be squirming and moaning."
"My brotha, you're giving me entirely too much information."
"Come on, you know Mia likes that s.h.i.+t too. They all do."
"Brice, I know you didn't call me to talk about your s.e.x life or mine."
"No, you're right. I didn't. I called to check out your lunch plans."
I glanced down at my watch. It was lunchtime. d.a.m.n, where did the morning go? "Nothing in particular. I'll probably grab a tuna sandwich over at Gorin's."
"You can do better than that. Meet me at the Shark Bar in fifteen. It's on me. I need a break."
"Okay, if you insist; I never pa.s.s up a free meal. See you in fifteen."
Brice After I arrived a few minutes later at the Shark Bar and was seated at a table over by the window, Christian was still nowhere in sight, and his place of employment was only a couple of blocks up the street. I sat, checked out the gorgeous black women in the place, Georgia peaches, and drank the cup of strong, black coffee I had ordered.
Back when Mia and I were together, she had gotten me into the habit of drinking coffee. Mia would drink cups and cups of black coffee when she was cramming for her exams at State University back in North Carolina. She'd be all tense and stressed. In between her breaks, we'd make love. Sometimes she wouldn't want to, but by the time we were finished, Mia would be all into it, brown legs wrapped tight around my waist, and back arching to receive all of me.
That's the funny thing about sistas: Give them some good lovin', I mean really good, and they'll always come back to you. I'm telling you, set 'em free and they'll come back to you. I know women have those booty-call lists. You know, a ranking of guys who can throw down in the bedroom. h.e.l.l, yeah, women are as scandalous as men; they just do their s.h.i.+t on the down-low.
When we were finished, Mia would put on a robe and go back to studying until the wee morning hours. There'd be cups and cups of unfinished coffee sitting around. After Mia left me, I kept the coffee habit. Whenever I drank rich, strong, black coffee, I'd think of Mia and her legs wrapped around my waist, eyes closed, head thrown back in desire.
When I glanced at the front door again, I saw Christian strolling my way. He was dressed in his company's uniform of choice. Dark suit, starched white dress s.h.i.+rt and a conservative pin-striped tie. Christian looked every bit the corporate man. He reminded me of those guys from Will Smith's Men in Black movie. As women glanced his way and tried to make eye contact, he strode confidently over my way. Didn't even give 'em a glance.
"Man, I'm sorry I'm a little late. As soon as we hung up, something came up in the parking garage." He pulled out the wooden chair from the table.
"No problem, I haven't been here too long. You got the situation under control?"
"Yeah, we've been having problems with homeless men getting into the parking area and begging for money and hara.s.sing the females."
"I'm telling you, man, you could leave that s.h.i.+t all behind and come join me. It'd be like old times again," I said with this big s.h.i.+t-eating grin just thinking about the good ol' days.
"Yeah? Well, when would we work? Man, me and you together, we'd never get any work accomplished. d.a.m.n."
Christian and I both laughed at that, because we were remembering how buck wild we used to be. Over the years, like all things, our lives had changed.
"Well, how are things going? Are you on schedule with your business plan?" Christian asked as he picked up the menu and glanced down at the lunch specials.
"Pretty much. I've been trying to do most of the physical work the last couple of weeks. Trying to get the carpet laid, buy office furniture, get the phones turned on, stuff like that. Man, I'm trying to do as much as possible myself. You know, save some money."
"Cool. Let me know how I can help out."
"I think one of my old marine buddies might come down from Virginia and come on board."
"Who? Not crazy a.s.s Williams? I know you're not talking about him."
"No, I don't think you ever met Dixon. We hung out in Germany for a minute. He wasn't as wild as your a.s.s, but he's good people. Hard worker."
"Speaking of Germany, did I tell you who I ran into over there? It's a small world after all."
"No, who?"
"That punk a.s.s, Malcolm."
"Malcolm?"
"Man, you know you remember him."
Malcolm was this hotshot marine who tried to get in Mia's pants when we were married. Long story. But bottom line, he tried to f.u.c.k my woman, and my woman was going to let him-to get back at me. So I went ballistic on Mia's a.s.s. Put the fear of G.o.d in her. End of story.
"What happened?" Christian asked with total interest.
"What do you think? I f.u.c.ked him up, f.u.c.ked him up bad."
"Good for you. That b.a.s.t.a.r.d deserved whatever he received."
Silence followed as we remembered that time. Didn't want to remember how ugly things got.
As the waiter approached our table with pen and pad in hand, Christian said, "Well, I'm still thinking about your proposition. I just haven't had the opportunity to discuss it with Mia."
"Okay, cool. The offer is still open, man. Always open for you. Personally, I don't see what there is to discuss. Just tell her. Anyway, drop by and check out my place and I can put your a.s.s to work."
Christian and I both ordered sandwiches and iced tea and handed the menus back to our waiter.
"By the way, Kree and I enjoyed ourselves the other night. We must hang out again real soon and, man, I can't wait to meet your daughter. My partner is a daddy. From her photos, she's a beautiful child. Going to break a lot of hearts when she gets older."
"Thanks, Lyric's my heart, and yes, we've definitely got to hang out again. Yeah, the other night turned out better than I thought. We all survived with no major fireworks."
"Mia is still beautiful. I'm sure you are enjoying her as your wife."
Christian didn't say anything, didn't move; he just stared at me with those green eyes.
"What? What did I say?" I asked with obvious confusion on my face.
"Man, you got to cool it with the jokes about Mia."
"Christian, chill, partner. I didn't mean anything by that comment. I mean you two seem happy, very content."
Christian fiddled with his spoon. "We are-very happy."
"Good. I'm happy for you."
"I can't believe you're comfortable with this."
"This what, man?" I asked with raised eyebrows.
"This whole idea that I'm married to Mia, who used to be married to you, who used to beat-"
"Man, I'm cool with it. I admit, at first, I was mad as h.e.l.l. You know. I felt like she still belonged to me. Felt like I had lost my soul mate. Just the thought of you and her made me see red. I think that was a normal reaction, but now I think we've gotten past all that. You know, let bygones be bygones and look toward the future."
Christian nodded but didn't say anything, just bit into his sandwich.
"Christian, believe me, I'm happy. Our situation is different, but I feel we're adult enough to deal with it. It's evident you and Mia complement each other. I'm cool with that. I was a fool, but, in the end, we both got who and what we wanted. I got a woman who will jump through hoops for me."
He laughed at that. "I hope not. I hope Kree won't jump through hoops. You didn't feel awkward? Not even for a minute the other night?"
I shook my head, but Christian looked at me like I was talking bulls.h.i.+t and burst out laughing.
"Okay, okay, I admit it. It was strange for lack of a better word. In the beginning, it was odd being together again. But like I said before, we're adults and we can handle this. We can make it work."
"I hear ya. You just keep your eyes off my wife's a.s.s," Christian added as he laughed again and took another bite of his sandwich.
"You saw that?"
"Yeah, you d.a.m.n right." Christian laughed. "That's my woman. Keep your d.a.m.n eyes off her a.s.s!"
Loose Ends Part 8
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Loose Ends Part 8 summary
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