I put out my hand; she looks at it then at my face. She walks past my extended hand and hugs me. I feel her heart beat or maybe it’s my own. She moves out of the hug and stares at my face.
“Do we know each other?” she asks, still giving me that puzzled look.
“You’re very familiar too, Mrs. Watts. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Who’s Mrs. Watts,” she asks, seeming confused. “My grandson brought you to meet me, so I believe Granny would be appropriate.”
“Granny, let’s go to the car,” Mark says, obviously glad we’re getting along. “You two have the rest of the day to figure out that you’ve never met before.”
As we speed along, we could have been in St. Matthews except the roads are wider and paved better. I love the groves of banana trees. I wished my Granny Nanny had thought of that when we were growing up. She preferred vegetable patches as opposed to fruit trees although we had some scattered along the border to mark the property line.
Granny drives pretty aggressively and even overtakes a big truck. She handles the stick shift with an ease that belies her eighty-something years. I look at Mark in the front passenger seat, but his eyes are turned toward the window.
The route from the airport takes us down a steep hill and I hold the door for safety. In the middle of the hill, Granny slows almost to a stop then swings left and onto a dirt road that leads into a yard with more dirt than grass.
“We are here,” she says looking back and smiling at me.
I let myself out of the car and look around. The beach is at the bottom of the hill. I look back at Mark and he grins as if he did it all just for me.
“Granny, you wake up to this every day?” I ask in awe, taking in the one-eighty view.
“For twenty years and I still thank God every day.”
“This is a little piece of heaven on earth, and I know you didn’t invite me; but thank you for letting me come with Mark.”
“You’re welcome. Now come inside and tell me why you and I feel like kin.”
Granny serves us lemonade with the lime pulp swimming around in the glass and hot bun with Crown cheese; the snack makes me homesick for St. Matthews. I stare out the window overlooking the beach as she asks about her other grandchildren and Mark’s parents. I notice that she asks about Mark’s children but not about their mother. I wonder if she’s trying to spare my feelings.
“There’s a yacht coming ashore,” I say, rudely interrupting their conversation.
“It will dock a little way out and people will swim ashore. They’re tourists,” Granny says.
I look over at her. “Do they ever bother you?”
“Very rarely. There’s a sign posted that tells them above the little cliff or going up the stairs is private property. One or two may venture up wanting to take pictures.”
I shake my head unable to stop grinning. This is awesome. I owe Mark big time.
“Who named a pretty girl like you Nella?” Granny asks.
I’m taken aback. I look in her eyes and I feel pretty. My heart feels pretty from the inside out. I laugh like I’m a pretty girl.
“My name is actually Eunella. My dad said my mom named me after a flower or plant, but I’m not a big fan of my name.”
“Eunella,” she says as if it’s exotic and precious.
“Say it again Granny,” Mark says, seeming as caught up as I am.
“Eunella,” she says, and I feel special.
“When you say it that way I’m ashamed to not like it.”
“If Markham calls you that you will forever like it.”
I burst out laughing. “Your name is Markham?” I ask Mark.
He rolls his eyes. “Yes. Our British ancestry has a thing about pompous names without a thought to their children living in modern times.”
We reach out and touch each other’s hand still laughing.
“So tell me, Eunella, where are you from and are we kin?”
“I’m from St. Matthews. I grew up there and consider it home, but I was born in England. We are probably of a kindred spirit but not related, I hope.”
She laughs out loud. “I can see where that would be a bother. You’re in love with my grandson?”
I nod and looking directly into her eyes, I say, “Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“Oh my! Let me see both of your hands.”
She reaches out and I willingly surrender them. This I knew about her with certainty. I glance over at Mark. He was trying to tell me about her gift. He wasn’t sure I would approve. His face is serious trying to read mine.
“Do you want him to stay? Some of this maybe hard.”
Still looking in his eyes, I say, “He can stay. I need him to hear this.”
She sits my hands on the table and examines my eyes. “You mean you want me to tell him.”
“No, I want you to help me tell him.”
She nods. “Why did you deny your gift?”
“I wanted my father more than I wanted to see the future. I wanted his love more.”
“Who told you the gift of a seer was yours?”
“Miss Henny, a woman in our village in St. Matthews. She said when I reached the age of ten I would be given a choice. I chose to see my father.”
“What did you see?”
“I saw nothing. I closed my eyes and refused to watch them torture him; so I felt his pain instead.”
“Oh dear God! Did she not warn you?”
“Yes, but I needed him as much as I needed to breathe.”
“How long did the pain last?”
“On and off for seven days and when it stopped I thought he was dead.”
“But he isn’t. He is now in your life, but you’re still having trouble.”
“I forgave him. I understand the choices he made.”
“Your head understands, but your heart doesn’t and you’re afraid to give it all to Markham.”
“Yes.”
“Whose side is the gift from?”
“I don’t know. Probably my father’s, but he’s European. My grandmother never said anything to me about being a seer.”
“He may not be as white as he seems; Gypsies maybe in his background. Where is he?”
“In New York.”
“Does he know that you sacrificed your life for his?”
“It was not a sacrifice. I didn’t want the gift. I got what I wanted.”
“If that’s true why do you need me?”
“Because I love Mark and I don’t want to hurt him, but I can’t be everything he needs.”
She turns to Mark, but I can’t look at him. I look at her eyes as she examines his.
“You can give him what he wants; you are making a choice not to. You have altered your destiny and there is something you know that you shouldn’t and your decision is based on that.”
I nod. “On my thirtieth birthday, our company had a party as they did every year. They hired a fortuneteller who read my palm. She said my mother died in childbirth having twins and there are twins in my future. I looked in her eyes and it scared me. I was shaking and she kissed the palm of my hands and said I could always choose not to have any more children. I have been trying to get my tubes tied ever since, but no one will do it. They think I’m too young.”
“Why did you believe her?”
“My mother died in childbirth, but no one ever said she was having twins. My father said she and my brother died. Yet I knew.”
She takes my hands again and runs both of her thumbs over my palms as if to clear up what she’s seeing.
“What do you remember of the day your mother died?”
“Daddy, feeling scared and excited. He wanted a son because Mommy promised him a son. I thought they were already dead,” I say closing my eyes tightly. “I knew when Zoi was coming and I knew her name, but I couldn’t feel them or see him. Mommy was dead too, but she was still alive when I saw her dead, so I was confused. I was four years old.”
“Eunella, did you cry for your mother?
”
“I don’t remember. All I remember was Daddy and trying to make him feel better.”
“You have three children?” she asks, looking at my palms.
“No, two.”
She examines my face.
“She treats Zoi, her sister, as if she’s her daughter. They have a bond between them like no other I’ve seen,” Mark explains.
“Yes, you love her unconditionally like you love your sons.” I stare at her eyes without answering. “Yes, he wants what you think he wants from you and the choice is yours.”
I cradle my arms across my chest and stare at her. I plead with her visually to help me find a way.
“Nella, what do I want that is too much to ask from you?” Mark inquires.
I turn to him avoiding his eyes. “You want children and I don’t want any more children.”
“You never asked me, so how do you know?”
“I feel it sometimes when you make love to me. You think it’s the only way to keep me.” I raise my eyes to look into his.
He looks away. He stands, moves from the table toward the windows overlooking the beach. He turns back to his grandmother.
“Talk to her. I can’t see her future. It is not for me to tell, and I don’t believe the fortuneteller,” Granny says to Mark, and then she turns back to me. “I believe she saw your past as most of us can do and she sensed your fears attached to that past and assumed your future. I cannot see your future except that you’re tied to my grandson.”
I stand and walk to Mark. I take his hands and put them around my waist.
“I love you. You don’t need a baby or a ring to keep me,” I say, cupping his face.
He drops his hands and turns away from me.
His grandmother laughs and my eyes move to her. “He invited you here. You came to meet me because you sense our connection. He brought you, so I can approve of him asking you to marry him.”
I turn to Mark. I had no idea. He is wounded and it’s all over his face. As he walks out of the room, tears fill my eyes.
“I had no idea,” I say to Granny.
“Yes, you did. You wanted me to bring it up before he asked you.”
“I knew he wanted to get married again but not this minute, not today. I thought he would at least wait until I met his parents and his children to see if they even like me.”
“Eunella, the very first time he made love to you and he looked into your eyes his future became tied to yours.”
“How is that possible? I didn’t even know his name and I never expected to see him again.”
Granny’s eyes pop open wider.
Oh God, now she thinks I’m a hoe.
“When you got married, why was it so easy to let that she devil love you?”
I gasp.
“Yes, I saw that in your hands.”
I hold my palms up, look at them, rub them together and then blow on them.
Granny laughs out loud. “You should’ve done that before you handed them to me. It’s too late now; the damage has already been done. Why did you say yes so easily?”
“Because Granny Nanny told me he couldn’t hurt me and my great love will still wait for me. I thought she meant Matt.”
“Is Matt the one who looks like a giant or the one who lies eloquently?”
“I didn’t think he loved me.”
“They all loved you; just not the way you wanted them to … until now.”
“What am I gonna do? Granny, I’m almost forty and my youngest son is twenty. I love Mark and I’m happy with the way things are going.”
“Don’t tell me. Tell him,” she says jerking her head to indicate that Mark is behind me.
“Let’s go for a swim before it gets dark,” he says.
The first week of school finds me knee deep in freshmen essays. I teach on Mondays and Wednesdays; Tuesdays and Thursdays are reserved for grading papers and staying sane. Instead, on Tuesday I spend a day trying to find Roland and Zander’s freshman English papers to judge standards of writing. On top of that my great aunt in the Bronx is sick and since Zoi has the baby, I’m the only one left to help her out. I stack everything I may need in my truck and drive there.
Mark and I returned from Jamaica barely speaking to each other. The idea that I don’t want to get married and make babies has left him peeved. He didn’t ask for time away from me, but when I suggested it he didn’t disagree. When I called him after two days to see how he was doing, he had an attitude. It’s been three weeks and we have only spent one full weekend together.
At my aunt’s, I’m running myself ragged trying not to tell her off.
My cooking is too highly seasoned for her taste.
Why do I have to flush the toilet every time I pee?
Do I know how much she pays for water?
I take too long in the shower.
Why at my age am I starting a new teaching career?
If I had stayed at the hospital I would have a bundle of money to retire on soon.
The only blessing that comes with being here is that she goes to bed at eight. Her bedroom is in the back of the house, so at night I have the kitchen table all to myself to grade papers and prepare for my lectures the next day.
After four days, I forcefully take her to the doctor who pronounces her fully recovered. She tells me I could go home and even remembers to thank me after giving me a generous gift for Tempest whom she has yet to meet.
On Friday night when I return to Brooklyn, I pull up behind Mark’s car in front of my building. I know he’s at Zoi’s because he doesn’t have a key.
I let myself into my place and quickly shower.
I had called Zoi when I was leaving Aunt Sarah’s, so Mark is expecting me. I could use his company tonight. I wish I could just relax and let things be. But how do I do that when I know what I don’t want conflicts with what he wants. I step out of the shower, towel off, put on my robe and walk into the bedroom. He’s sitting on the chair across from the bed.
“Mark?” I ask startled.
“Zoi let me in. I didn’t want to scare you, so I’m sitting here,” he says getting to his feet.
“I was going to come up there. I saw your car outside,” I say, walking over closer to him.
“Zoi said you had a rough week at your Aunt’s. I thought I could maybe give you a massage or just keep your company.”
“I could use both. Did you eat? I’m not sure what I have, but I could find something,” I say, walking past him to get to the kitchen.
I feel the belt on my robe pull, so I stop. I walk backward until I bump into him. He wraps his arms around my shoulders; his face is against my ear and I feel his desire. I turn in his arms, get on my tippy toes and kiss him. He picks me up and I wrap my legs around him. The time we spent apart slowly melts away as our bodies become one and the love we feel for each other consumes us.
“Thank you,” I whisper in his ear as I lie still on top of him.
“My pleasure,” he says and I feel the grin on his face next to mine.
“Can we work this out, so we both end up somewhere in the happy zone?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says and I ease off him to look at his face. “My grandmother said that our futures are tied together; I figured one way or the other we’re going to be in each other’s lives, so we might as well work it out.”
“What else did you figure?” I ask, knowing there’s more.
“I’ve decided to just let things be as casual as you want them to be until you meet my parents and my kids. Spring break is in March and you get a week off; we can go then. After that I believe I am entitled to make a move.”
“What if they don’t like me?” I ask seriously.
“Granny called my mother and told her she met you. I’m not sure what else was said, but my mother wants to know if it’s her responsibility to come to New York to meet you.”
I fall back on the bed. I’m cornered.
“Mark, what you learned in Jamaica about me didn’t scare you a l
ittle?”
“No. Granny told me about her gift when I was a child. When the kids at school beat me up or called me names we sat down and discussed it rationally and I believed that it would all work out. When it didn’t and I brought her in for show and tell, she revealed some of their secrets. They remembered her before they picked on me twice. Because of that I trust her.”
“So you’re not afraid I would know when you lie to me or that I could possibly read your mind?” I ask jokingly.
“No, you couldn’t before or you would’ve known I was going to ask you to marry me in Jamaica.”
“Ok, point taken, but what about the rest?”
“If you were me, Nella, what would you do?”
“Do you mean if I was a man or actually Nella and want what you want?”
“If you were thirty-nine years old and wanted marriage and children, and I already had children with someone else and loved you, but I didn’t want what you want, what would you do?”
I take a deep breath and look up at my fan that I would not exchange for his chandelier.
“If I loved only you and you were giving me everything else I wanted, I would beg and plead because my biological clock is ticking and a new man takes time. If I still couldn’t convince you, I would try to move on even if it’s what my body is screaming for. But if it isn’t, because I already have kids, I would tell myself I couldn’t have any more kids and let it go.”
“It’s what your heart is screaming for and you have tried to move on, but the offer you’re getting is not from the person your heart wants.”
I ease up and stare at his face. A cold feeling flows over my heart. Chloe wants him back and she’s willing to give him more children, but he wants mine.
“Why did you leave her in the first place?” I ask hoarsely.
“We stopped wanting the same things. Maybe we didn’t always want them at the same time. I think she stopped loving me too. She didn’t want any more children; she wanted me to get a vasectomy. I refused because I wanted more children. If she didn’t, she should get her tubes tied. She thought I didn’t love her or I would do this very small thing for us. We fought about everything. She hears about you and suddenly she’s willing to compromise; but I want you Nella and I’m willing to compromise too.”
TAKE ME as I am Page 16
