In the end, what is important was her friend’s life.
Chapter Two – Night Tide
The wait for Friday to arrive was making Darlene break out in warm sweats followed by cold shivers and cotton mouth. When she mentioned this to Krysten, she was told she was going through withdrawals from the anti-depressants. She encouraged her to drink plenty of water, cranberry juice and pineapple juice in an alternating pattern all week.
To her surprise it helped.
She no longer smelled.
She felt better.
She looked forward to the weekend.
By the time Friday rolled around, she was waiting on the curb for Krysten to pick her up. I’m excited. I am actually excited.
So was everyone on the plane. A flight to New Orleans on any weekend was about as exciting as a flight to Vegas any day of the week. The air was charged as people discussed going to Bourbon Street to have a good time. The hotel Krysten booked was also in the French Quarter and for some odd reason, Darlene was fixated on a steak which sounded truly delicious with a nice Cabernet.
“We are meeting potential husband number one tonight for dinner,” Krysten said as she pulled the folder from Darlene’s hand.
All week she held onto the folder. She even went into the account that Krysten had set up for her on AHusband4u.org and reviewed the chat logs. Her friend had not told any lies but presented her to Richard Biggam in an honest manner. She only hoped that Richard had done the same.
He had not. The man was slicker than snot on a fastball. Richard was a polished conservative who grew up in New Orleans with an eye on the Senate. The Biggam's were a family of old money made in seafood and shipping. He was a good looking man though. Tall, broad shouldered, tan, blonde and a 1,000 watt smile. Everyone knew his name and he reveled in the attention he received the minute he walked into the restaurant. Bottles of wine and champagne arrived at the table before he did.
“I am so sorry to keep you waiting,” he said as he bent and kissed Darlene’s hand. “I have a nice itinerary planned for us this weekend to get to know each other.”
Darlene’s hackles went up. This man is too...something.
A something she wasn’t feeling.
Darlene didn’t even like the way he cut into his meat.
Or chewed it.
Or swallowed it.
He reminded her of the male lion who came to feast after the lionesses did all the work. Cut. Chew. Swallow. She envisioned a big ole mane soaked in the blood of his victim, reveling in the victory of getting the biggest piece of meat.
Somewhere mid-way through dinner the sound of him breathing was starting to get on her nerves. What really killed it for her was the way he handled Krysten. No one handled Krysten...but Richard did.
Richard invited Krysten to join them for dinner, and when she declined in order to give them some privacy, he suggested a means of keeping her entertained.
“What is your pleasure Krysten?”
“I’m sorry?” She responded.
“New Orleans is full of life and energy. The nights come alive and breathe a kinetic energy into every soul that walks the French Quarter. I would love for you to get out tonight and truly enjoy our Majestic Lady,” he said with a syrupy southern drawl. “Allow me to make a call and get someone to show you our beautiful town.”
“I appreciate it, but I have my own idea of how I am going to spend this night,” she said.
Richard pulled out his phone, thumbed through a couple of screens and pulled up four pictures of very attractive women. “You choose your idea of how you want to spend your night and I can have your choice here in less than 20 minutes,” he said with no expression.
Darlene had something to say. “What are you a pimp?”
He flashed a smile that was covered in expensive veneers.
She hated those as well.
“No, no no...,” he chuckled. “I know you ladies looked into me and my background, so I of course did the same. I only want your friend to enjoy the hospitality of our city.”
He wasn’t a greedy lion watching over a pride; he was a snake. Darlene could feel it.
“And while she is away, what shall we do?” Darlene asked him.
“Get to know each other of course. I have a specific plan for how I am planning to spend the next couple of years,” Richard said.
Darlene looked to Krysten for an out. Unfortunately, her friend was focused in on the phone. She looked at Richard. “I will take that red head. You can have her come over any time she is ready.”
“I don’t believe you!” Darlene exclaimed to her friend.
“Gurl believe it! The dream is alive and well, Mama is going to happy town,” she told Darlene. “I have to go and get ready!” Krysten threw up two fingers and left her alone with Richard.
She forced a smile at the man as she cut into the steak that she craved earlier which now felt like a big chunk of abnormality that would not budge in her throat. It seemed like an even thicker mass to swallow when he began to speak intimately with her about his grand idea.
“Darlene, I know who you are. I know what you have accomplished and your name carries clout in Washington. Together, we can make some changes for Louisiana, and every parish in the state,” he said.
Her eyes were wide as she watched his Botox injected face. She asked him, “If I understand this correctly, you want to marry me so that I can help you get elected to the Senate?”
The smile that adorned his face bordered on lecherous. Richard said to her, “Yes and no. I would like you to marry me so that you and I can take Congress by storm. Based on your knowledge of a great number of environmental laws, we can ride the global warming train into the history books, Darlene.” His eyes were squinted as he leaned in close. “It also helps that we will be an interracial power couple.”
Darlene sat in disbelief at his words. He wanted a wife that would further his political ambition. She wasn’t about to play that game.
Richard didn’t plan to give up so easily. He leaned across the table and lowered his voice, saying in a hushed tone, “Listen Darlene...you have been on the sidelines for a while healing. I know how that feels, but purpose is what drives people like you and me. This is your chance to come back strong. This is about getting into the game at our age, this about changing the way these players are playing. I know you understand what I am saying.”
His hand was warm as he reached across the table to take her hand into his. She half expected his thumb to caress the back of her hand, but for this man, his next marriage wasn’t about love or about money. His next marriage was about power; he’d had the others.
She’d had enough. She gently pulled her hand away from his, forcing a warm smile that came across much easier than she felt about potential husband number one. Darlene told him, “At this point in my life, I am not interested in the players or the game.”
“But don’t you miss being in the fight?”
“Honestly, Richard, I miss being myself more. My new fight is to get back to who that is or was supposed to be. It was a pleasure to meet you,” she said as she rose.
She didn’t bother to say goodnight to the man as night tide rolled in and she grabbed the bottle of wine he ordered and took it to her room. Well, at least she wasn’t on anti-depressants and sitting home by her lonesome. Tonight she sat in a hotel in New Orleans, on Bourbon Street, drinking wine all by her lonesome.
I am not sad.
For the first time in 4 years I am not sad.
The folder on the desk was opened as she looked at the very polished photo of Richard. A man who was divorced twice, had five children, two grandchildren and had no interest in her other than how she could help him advance his political career. This was a good thing.
As she stood on the balcony watching drunk people urinate in the street while others fornicated in dark alleyways, a new image formed in her mind. She didn’t want to be in the limelight anymore. As beautiful, vibrant, and full of life as New Orleans is, it
wasn’t the city for her. It was too touristy.
I want something a little more down to the earth I have worked so hard to save. She thumbed through the folders again. Wyoming. Amish Country Pennsylvania. No crowds. No insane traffic like the loop around Washington DC.
I am ready to live again.
Who was next on the list... Cornell Woodmore. She left the balcony, stepped into the hotel room and pulled out her tablet. She logged into AHusband4u.org and read over all the conversation files between he and the version of her Krysten had created. Next weekend she would try it again.
He had piercing blue eyes and she was drawn to him.
Yeah, I’m ready to live again.
At least I would like to try.
Chapter Three - Nightfall
A very groggy, but happy Krysten joined her for breakfast the next morning, sporting a large smile and a bubbly attitude. Darlene eyed her with some amusement as she added sugar to her coffee and stared at the eggs on her plate as if they were speaking a foreign language. The breakfast was enjoyed in silence when they were approached by a member of the hotel staff.
“Good morning ladies. You spa appointments will begin in 15 minutes. The spa is located on the third floor, near the mezzanine. You have been booked for a three hour session each,” the dainty man told them.
Krysten’s droopy eyes tried to process the tiny, well put together man. “I didn’t order any spa packages.”
“Madam, your spa treatments were ordered and paid for by Mr. Biggam. He also settled your hotel bill,” he informed them.
Accusatory eyes looked to Darlene. “So what happened last night with you and Dick Biggam?”
“Not a darn thing! The only thing I sucked on last night was that bottle of wine,” she said. “Thank you,” she told the hotel staffer. “We won’t be late.”
“I take it that it is a definite no on Dick?”
The spark was coming back and the banter between she and her friend was starting to come back as well. “I am no more interested in Dick than you are...”
“Gurl, that man does have his finger on the pulse of what people want...that redhead nearly killed me last night. I am too old to tussle with these young energetic types...shit, I need that massage for real!” Krysten laughed.
“Let’s just enjoy the weekend, have a great day, hang out and get to Café du Monde for your beignets and coffee this afternoon,” Darlene said as she settled the check.
“Can I ask, what didn’t work for you and Dick?”
“Stop calling him that...it sounds seedy,” she said.
“Whatever, prissy missy...what didn’t work for you and the Big man?”
“Me. I didn’t work because I don’t know what or who I am right now,” she said softly.
“You are the same person you always have been, just a little damaged,” Krysten said.
“No...I knew who I wanted to be then. I became who I thought I needed to be...,” she sighed as she handed the waiter her credit card. “I never actually got to the level of realization of who I was meant to be.”
“Should we cancel the other weekends?”
As she collected her things, a close look was taken at the table. The meal was half eaten. The juice and coffee were half consumed. Her life, was only half lived. “No. This is good. This is what I need to know. I need to understand what my needs are. Richard showed me I no longer wish to be in the spotlight. There are other battles to fight, I simply don’t need to fight them the same way.” She hoped what she said was making sense.
“Okay, so next weekend, we head to Amish country,” Krysten said.
“Puritan country with people who are the salt of the earth,” she said with a faint smile.
“Yeah, whatever. I just want some of that good goat’s milk soap, and a pretty quilt,” Krysten said.
A small list was created of the items she wanted to pick up in Amish country as well. She wanted some jam, honey, and a few handcrafted items.
Maybe I should start my own business with organic home goods.
New Orleans had been a refreshing weekend. The spa treatment had been a blessing and even Richard came back on Sunday morning to see if she had changed her mind. She hadn’t. He did pose a question that Darlene was going to have to give some real consideration. Richard asked, “...was your refusal of me because I was white or because you had no sexual attraction to me?”
“Truthfully Richard, I never got past your ambition,” she told him as she shook his hand. “Again, it was a pleasure to meet you in person.”
Another item she was going to have to give more thought was how she wanted to spend this time. Financially, George had left her well off. She had no need to work. I do need a purpose. The idea of home made goods sounded better and better as the week wound down and Friday was upon her.
Cornell Woodmore was up next. He owned an Amish Country Store just outside of Lancaster, Pennsylvania. The more she researched the area, the more she looked forward to the visit. Again, when Friday arrived, Darlene was dressed, packed and waiting curbside for Krysten to show up.
This time she did not want a cold meeting with this potential mate. She asked on Wednesday if they could Skype, and he agreed. Darlene had not been prepared for the intensity of his blue eyes, the sensual movement of his lips or that she could be so attracted to a man on a screen. Yet she was stimulated by the man and wanted to see if sexy buggy boy was as dynamic in person.
The flight into Philadelphia was uneventful as they rented a car and drove into Pennsylvania Dutch country. The closer they got into Lancaster, the more relaxed she became. Crossing into the country side was like going back in time. As they drove through the country, Darlene slowed to give the road to the horse drawn buggies that moved up and down the roads, the rolling hills with lush grasses, crops burgeoning on stalks and stems brought the entire scene to life. Windmills danced on the tops of hill-crests as the wind pushed forward energy that reached out to Darlene, calling her towards a new vision.
The Pottery Works store was the first thing that caught her attention. In this store, visitors could bring lunch while they sat and painted pottery. The entire vibe of the store was without pretense or falsehoods. A peace came over her as they left the pottery store, making their way to the Old Country Store just at nightfall.
Cornell Woodmore spotted her as soon as she walked through the door. Darlene also recognized him. All of him.
All 6 feet, 185 pounds of him.
The dark curly hair she recognized.
The piercing blue eyes she recognized.
The grey temples served as highlights to the dark curls on his head, the luscious lips, the low slung hips that wore a pair a jeans that left very little to her imagination. It left little to Krysten’s either.
“Damn!” she whispered out of the side of her mouth. “Gurl, I am officially in lust! That is some kind of fine right there!”
Out of the side of her mouth Darlene whispered back, “yeah, so what’s wrong with him?”
“What makes you think there is something wrong?”
Cornell spoke up, “I would like to know why you think something is wrong with me as well?”
Darlene cleared her throat. “Because....”
He stood still and waited for her response. His eyes raked over her body making parts that had frozen in place 4 years ago begin to fluctuate with droplets of moisture. Her lips were dry, as she poked her tongue out to moisten them he moved closer.
“Does it seem like something is wrong with me?” He asked as he brushed a wayward tendril of hair off her cheek.
“No...you seem amazing...really amazing...,” she fumbled.
He surprised her by pulling her into his arms and hugging her so close that her body seemed to meld into his. “You seem amazing as well Ms. Darlene Patterson,” he let her go and provided the same hug to Krysten.
It was embarrassing when Krysten raised her leg like a dog and began to hump the man. “Krys, stop that!”
“I can’t help it. H
e makes me want him real bad...,” she said into his broad chest.
Cornell took it all in stride and laughed loudly. “If it is that kind of party, we can finish this up after I close the store,” he said lightly.
It was the wrong thing to say, because it turned Darlene off immediately. Although he said it in a joking manner, there was nothing really funny about it, when she understood that he meant the playful words. In the shop, while they waited for him to close up, she found a quiet corner to observe him. He flirted with every woman that came through the front door. Phone numbers were slipped into his hands, business cards were given to him and he made notes on each one.
She sighed deeply.
He is a man whore.
An Amish man whore.
But she did like his shop.
After the store closed, she took some time with her tablet to snap pictures of the arrangements and shelving. She even paid close attention to the inventory. In the back of her head she knew that in this store, meeting Cornell, she was being shown this bit of information for a reason.
“I grew up here. My sect is here as well as my family. These soaps...,” he picked up a bar and placed it in her hand. “...are made by my sister. She has a garden where she grows the lemon grass, elderberry, and other fruits that she uses to make these soaps and lotions,” he told her.
Darlene liked him. He was a likable fellow. He even took her dinner where he told her about his marriage.
“After Rumspringa...do you know what that is?” he asked before going on any further.
“I am aware of the Amish practice of allowing unbaptized boys freedom on the weekends,” she said.
Cornell was impressed. “Well, after experiencing that kind of freedom, I wanted to go off to college, which I did. I married well, to a career driven business woman. We traveled a great deal,” he said pausing.
He waited to gauge her response before he continued. “We were swingers,” he said flatly.
Darlene showed no reaction to his confession or the rest of his words. He said with confidence, “I have a hearty appetite, and she often preferred to read or watch me enjoy myself.”
Wyoming Nights Page 2
