Wrapped in a Donovan

by A. C. Arthur

  “Everyone, this is Jenise,” Tate said and the noise that was a number of different conversations going on at one time ceased immediately.

  She’d stood in courtrooms, faced skeptical jurors and even had a knock, down, drag out debate with her brother Tucker over which was the best NFL team when she was fifteen years old. On none of those occasions had Jenise ever felt as weary of being in the spotlight as she did now.

  “Jenise, this is,” Tate said, starting at one end of the table and calling off names. “Mr. Bruce and Ms. Janean, who you’ve already met. Sean and our lovely Briana who thinks she’s going to sit in her daddy’s lap and eat her meal today. But she is going to be sadly mistaken.”

  Jenise smiled at the pretty little girl who was currently giving her mother an adorable, yet obvious, ‘you wanna bet’ look.

  “You already know Parker and Adriana and you’ve met Dion. This is Lyra, Dion’s wife,” Tate said as Adriana waved happily at Jenise.

  Lyra smiled and Dion nodded his head in acknowledgment, before looking across the table. Jenise didn’t have time to follow his gaze because Tate was rattling off more names.

  “This is Marvin and Beatriz Bennett, Adriana’s parents. Alex is Adriana’s older brother and beside him is Monica Lakefield. She runs the Lakefield Galleries in New York. Rico is also Adriana’s brother.”

  More smiles and nods.

  “On the other side of the table are Mr. Reginald and Ms. Carolyn. You’ve met Regan and Gavin. This is Adriana’s other brother, Renny. He’s a sculptor and has some great pieces. If you like art, Lyra and I were thinking of taking a trip to New York after the first of the year to visit Lakefield Galleries. They have some of Renny’s pieces on exhibit, but I don’t know if they’ll still be there in January,” Tate informed her.

  “There’ll be a new exhibit in January,” the very handsome Renny, replied with a smile.

  “I like art a lot,” Jenise offered, her voice deceptively strong.

  “Then you should definitely visit the gallery,” Monica added. “Just let me know when you ladies plan to come up and I’ll make arrangements for a personal tour.”

  “That sounds great,” Jenise replied, even though she was certain she would not be taking any girls’ trip with anyone in this room. She wasn’t their family or friend, after all.

  “We’re starving here, Tate,” Parker said with an exaggerated whine that earned him a smack on the arm from Adriana.

  “Okay, we’re almost done. This is Bree, she’s Renny’s wife and a private investigator. She’s also a superwoman because over there in that playpen are three of the most adorable babies you ever want to see. And she had them all in one day.” Tate started clapping and every woman in that room, besides Jenise, of course, joined her in a round of applause. Bree smiled, but then turned a little in her seat to give herself a pat on the back.

  “You already know Savian. And your seat is right there,” Tate finished.

  ‘Right there’ meant right beside Savian who looked as if he’d come face-to-face with a long lost enemy as he gazed at her. His brow had immediately furrowed, his lips going into a thin line.

  “It’s nice to meet everyone,” Jenise said because there was no way she could turn around and walk out of this house. “Sorry I’m late. I don’t want to hold things up any longer, so I’ll just get over here and take my seat.”

  She talked as she walked, hanging her purse on the back of the chair before sitting and scooting herself closer to the table. She made sure not to touch Savian, not even by accident, and she didn’t look over at him.

  “Say the blessing, Bruce,” Janean said and her husband dutifully began to pray.

  Jenise bowed her head silently adding a sincere ‘Lord, please give me the strength to get through this day’ to the otherwise gracious and heartfelt prayer.

  The food was delicious, even though Jenise tried to be sure not to eat too much. Not at all concerned about her waistline, she was more attune to the fact that throughout the course of the meal, all eyes at this table eventually turned to her. They were curious about who she was and why she was here. She could understand the latter because she’d asked herself all morning as she’d sat in her living room with her laptop and the parade on television which she’d barely paid any attention to, wondering why she was even entertaining the idea of attending. This wasn’t her family and they weren’t going to be. If she’d ever considered differently, Savian had made sure to hammer that fact home last night.

  He’d arrived at her apartment later than usual. She’d come to expect him between seven and eight in the evenings and thus made sure to leave her office no later than six so that she’d be there when he arrived. Actually, Jenise had begun to enjoy waiting for Savian to arrive. If he did not send word to her some time during the day that he was taking care of dinner, she would make the plans—always in her apartment. Her mother would be ecstatic to hear that Jenise had found a type of enjoyment to planning a meal for Savian. She liked seeing the look on his face when she selected a wine that he approved of, or a dessert that made him smile. That dessert would be warm apple pie and Vanilla Bean ice cream. They’d even changed how their evenings ended, with a shower this time, a long and sensual shower that would serve as the best type of nightcap for Jenise because once Savian left she would fall into her bed and a blissful night’s sleep.

  “I’ve always prided myself on being an independent woman,” she’d said last night as they’d stood beneath the warm spray of water. “But there’s definitely something to be said for having someone wash your back.”

  “There’s definitely something to be said when someone has a backside, such as yours,” Savian had replied.

  He’d been dragging the soapy cloth over the base of her back at that moment, and then moved down to her bottom. He always took such care there, moving slowly, kneading her cheeks hungrily before slipping the cloth between her crevice in that way that was one part necessity and a larger part need. That need never seemed to subside between them. Instead, in the months they’d been together, it had increased.

  “You like it back there, don’t you?” she’d asked without intending to. However, much they’d changed in the past couple of weeks, their sexual trysts still ended in the same way.

  “I lov…,” he’d begun then stopped abruptly. “Oh yes, I enjoy it back here and I believe you enjoy it too.”

  He’d moved only slightly so that the water was now sluicing over her back, washing the soap away. While it did, she heard the cloth fall to the floor of the stall and felt Savian’s hand grip her breast from the side. She turned to look at him at that moment and asked, “Will it always be this way? Dinner, sex, shower, good night?”

  This, Jenise thought as she stared at him, she had meant to say because she wanted to know. For days she’d been wondering what if…what if she asked him to stay all night. What if they had breakfast one morning instead of dinner at night? What if they actually went out to a restaurant rather than staying inside?

  Savian hadn’t answered immediately, his fingers toying with her hardened nipple, the other rubbing lazily over the curve of her ass. He did look at her, with those ever changing eyes. He was thinking of his response, considering, she hoped. It was when his response finally came that Jenise felt that hope wither and die.

  “There’s no need to change what’s working so well,” he said.

  Twenty minutes later Savian was gone and Jenise had climbed into her bed, this time not falling asleep as quickly, not feeling as content as she had before.

  Now, on Thanksgiving Day, as she sat beside him enjoying everything from the macaroni and cheese to the buttered dinner rolls, Savian was the only one that did not look at her. In fact, he hadn’t acknowledged her in any way, his silence punctuating his words from last night with a great big exclamation. No matter what scenarios Jenise played in her mind, she knew that Savian had been true about his words. He had no intention of changing anything about what they were. She knew that now it was up to he
r to figure out if that was something she could continue to live with.

  “I met your sister, Morgan,” Bree was saying.

  Her words pulled Jenise from her distressing thoughts and she lifted her napkin to wipe her mouth before replying.

  “Oh really?” she asked, wondering how Morgan’s path would have crossed with a private investigator from Connecticut.

  “Yes,” Bree said with a nod of her head.

  During the meal the triplets had awakened. Bree had immediately excused herself from the table to get them. Renny had started to move, but had been waved back into his seat when Beatriz, his mother, followed Bree over to the playpen. Carolyn had quickly stood also, making her way over to pick up the last waking baby, the little boy. Jenise remembered hearing throughout the earlier conversations that his name was Daniel. Now all three women were seated at the table once more with a baby cradled in their arms.

  “My sister Lynn is married to Brice Wellington. Lynn first met Morgan at the yearly holiday party the Wellingtons have at their house. I believe she said Morgan’s grandfather had worked a very important civil rights case with Brice’s grandfather. Anyway, since we’re family now, the Wellingtons invited us to this year’s party which they held a lot earlier because Mr. and Mrs. Wellington are heading out for a Mediterranean cruise, and then I believe they plan to spend the rest of the year traveling through Europe. Morgan was at the party. She’s a beautiful girl,” Bree finished just as the little girl in her arms cooed.

  Jenise loved the sound the baby made, just as much as she adored the way Bree had looked down at her daughter in response. The love was so clear in Bree’s eyes.

  “Ah, yes,” Jenise replied. “Our family does have close ties to the Wellingtons. I’m glad Morgan could make the party. She usually doesn’t travel much.”

  “She did mention that,” Bree told her. “I reminded her that it’s a shame for a pretty young single woman to spend all her time working.”

  “That’s so true,” Carolyn added as she lifted the little girl she held up to her shoulder, rubbing her hand over the baby’s back. “Life shouldn’t be all about work.”

  “You sound like my mother,” was Jenise’s immediate response. She regretted it the moment it was out.

  “Really? How so?” Carolyn asked before Jenise could figure out a way to smooth that comment over.

  Now, she was just going to have to work her way through yet another uncomfortable situation. Clearing her throat, she looked down the table to where Carolyn sat and said, “My parents didn’t want me or Morgan to become attorneys. They thought it would be too much work for us.”

  She, of course, left out the part where her mother wanted her married and having children instead, because she didn’t think that—in light of sitting at this table with all these married, or soon-to-be-married couples, with and without children—was going to go over too well.

  Carolyn nodded. “It’s a mother’s job to protect her children,” she said. “I think that everyone should endeavor to have a full life. One where things such as careers and reaching goals should be taken in increments.”

  “That is so true,” Janean added. “Balance is what it’s all about. When my boys were young I tried to spend as much time at the school as possible, while still taking care of the house and the bills. I swear, for as much as Bruce can keep track of every detail at the office, when he came home he didn’t remember to do anything but eat and sleep.”

  There was a chorus of chuckles and agreeing nods after that statement.

  “I know exactly what you mean,” Beatriz chimed in. “Marvin is the same way. Knows everything about that job and couldn’t tell you when the last time we had to have the plumbing serviced. And let’s not get started on the children. He might have missed their graduations if I hadn’t taped notes on his bathroom mirror to remind him.”

  More chuckles and more agreeing.

  “Now, wait a minute,” Reginald spoke up. “That’s not fair. We take care of business and we make the money.”

  “You also make the babies that we take care of and the messes that we clean,” Carolyn said to her husband just before sweetly kissing that baby on the cheek.

  “I don’t know what any of you are talking about, Tate gets up at the strangest hours to go into her office and write. If she’s not answering letters, she’s reading them to see who will be the next guest on her show. The last time Briana had a stomach ache, I was the one in her room, lying on that little princess bed beside her, rubbing her tummy until she fell asleep,” Sean said, matter-of-factly.

  Dion immediately chimed in with, “And Lyra stays in that darkroom so long some nights I regret having it included in the plans for the house.”

  “So what you’re really saying is that men can dish it out, but they can’t take it,” Tate spoke up. “You can work long hours and on weekends when a deadline is looming, but I’m supposed to keep my job to a nine to five schedule.”

  Sean began shaking his head immediately. “Not what I’m saying at all.”

  “That’s what it sounds like you’re trying to say,” Regan interjected.

  Bree nodded. “That’s what I heard, too.”

  Renny shook his head, but wisely remained silent.

  “We don’t have that problem because Alex works just as much as I do,” Monica spoke up from the other side of the table.

  “But that’s because you don’t have any children,” Tate said. “Just wait until there’s a little one in the picture and he has to do something with the baby while you’re working. Then you’ll be hearing a different song from him.”

  “A little one? How about three little ones?” Bree asked, pointing at all three of her children. “I’m juggling them and my cases from work. Luckily my brother is my boss so I can mostly work from home now.”

  “And when I’m not at the gallery or in my studio, I’m right there, taking my turn at feedings, baths, and cuddling,” Renny added this time.

  That was followed by a few ‘awws’ as he leaned over to touch the baby girl that Bree was holding on the chin. He’d smiled down at her and the little girl had replied with a huge grin.

  Jenise’s head was swimming with all the comments and opinions. She was glad that it had taken the heat off her, but was also surprised to hear how the wives and husbands in this family felt. It wasn’t totally different from the views in her family, but not nearly as stringent. The Donovans and Bennetts seemed to take these things all in stride, the men not denying their actions, while each of the women were proud of what they did—whether in the household or the workplace—and there were no recriminations for either.

  She’d just taken another drink from her glass when there was another comment, this one leaving everyone at the table silent.

  “Dion and I are going to have a baby,” Lyra said loudly.

  Bruce looked to his son in question, while Janean’s smile spread slowly.

  “The miscarriage was so hard for all of us, so when I found out I was pregnant again, Dion and I thought it was best to wait until I was through the first trimester before we told anyone, “ Lyra continued as Dion took her hand in his. “We’re due in early April.”

  Regan began laughing at that moment which was a shock to everyone and immediately took the stares and smiles from Dion and Lyra, changing them to questioning glances at her. Even Jenise wondered why the woman would laugh at a time like this. Savian had told her that Bruce and Janean had informally adopted Lyra when she was ten years old, because Lyra’s mother had a drug addiction. So Lyra and Regan had grown up together. They were like sisters. Which made Regan’s reaction to the announcement all the more puzzling, until Regan finally spoke.

  “We’ve known each other too long,” Regan finally said to Lyra. Tears had begun forming in her eyes and Regan swiped fingers beneath them in an attempt to keep her make-up intact.

  “I swear since we met we’ve both been in competition with each other about one thing or another. I just never thought, that we would co
mpete for delivery dates,” Regan said.

  “What…are you…saying?” Lyra asked.

  Gavin leaned over then, draping an arm over Regan’s shoulders as he said, “We’re pregnant, too. Due in late April.”

  “Oh my goodness! Oh my! Oh my!” Carolyn began shaking her head. “A grandbaby? I’m having a grandbaby!”

  “Me too!” Janean exclaimed. “I mean, I’m having another grandbaby! Oh this is fabulous, just fabulous. So much to be thankful for today. Happy Thanksgiving to us all!”

  Kisses and hugs, handshakes and smiles, all punctuated the end of the official meal, but the fellowship portion of this day had clearly begun and Jenise wondered briefly if it weren’t time for her to leave. Savian had moved from his seat, going around to shake Dion and Gavin’s hands. He hugged Lyra, kissing her on the cheek. When it came to his sister, Savian hugged her tightly, whispering something in her ear that made Regan laugh. She whispered something back to him that had taken the happy look from his face, replacing it with a slight frown. Savian looked up to find Jenise staring at him. The frown deepened and he walked out of the room.

  Yes, Jenise thought. It was definitely time for her to go.

  #

  “Leaving so soon?”

  Jenise paused, then continued to slowly slip her arms into her jacket. She’d slipped out of the dining room while everyone seemed to be talking to someone else. Between all the congratulatory hugs and kisses and crying babies, she’d thought the timing was perfect for her to ease out of there. Clearly, she’d thought wrong.

  “I’m waiting on some reports and I’d rather be home when they come in so I can get right to work on them,” she replied to Carolyn as she turned around to face her.

  “Because you’d rather be the woman that works and takes care of herself, instead of the woman that stays home and cares for a family?”

  Jenise wasn’t sure how Carolyn had been able to hit the nail directly on the head with her, but she wasn’t going to insult the woman by standing there and attempting to deny the truth in what she’d just said to her face.