by Love Belvin
My eyes fell to the table and I tried busying myself with my food. “Yeah. That’s one thing the blogs did get right—well, a blog. The rest ran off the plug with it.”
“Spilling that Hot Tea!” she muttered while sitting up with one hand holding up her coffee mug and the other crossed over her waist.
“Yup. Them.” I nodded. “They always seem to be cutting edge with their posts.”
She nodded, casting her eyes out to the oceanfront. For a while, I finished my breakfast in silence.
“You never talk about your mother.”
“What about her?” I asked, still tending to my plate.
“When did she pass? Myisha said it was a long time ago, but didn’t say when.”
“When I was ten.”
“How?”
Why?
“Ummmmm…” I hated talking about it. About her. “Uh… They say an aneurysm.”
“You think differently?” There was heightened curiosity in her tone.
I sat back, taking a deep breath. “Yeah and no. I think she was overworked and more than that, unhappy.” Wynter’s lifted brows pushed me to explain. “She spent her life trying to please her mother and aid her druggy sister. She acted as though my grandmother didn’t have two other daughters—well, one died when she was like five, I was told. But she had a son, too. He’s the oldest. My mom played everybody’s savior, caregiver. Seemed like she had the patience of Job with everybody but my Pops.”
“You think they should have stayed together?”
“I think giving it a try would have meant putting each other first. Like my pops begged her to do after she had Arnie. She never gave ‘them’ a real chance as a couple. I’ve learned nobody is worth your happiness. Not your demanding family, who don’t have much of a purview outside of the family’s storefront church. Not fans, who don’t know you past the songs you sing or the lines you recite while the cameras are rolling.”
“What’s happiness?” Her eyes were intent, and body steeled.
I shrugged my eyebrows and took a sip of my water. “Today, it’s me celebrating an extraordinary woman, who’s survived my crankiness for four months.”
Her eyes narrowed and she planted her elbows on the table. “You think I’m extraordinary?”
I leaned into the table, too, and mimicked her expression. “I think I wanna take you out on the water and laugh at you while you learn to surf.”
“Oh.” She blinked then sat up. “I don’t have swim gear.” Her pout was crooked.
“You haven’t checked your luggage. You got swimwear and more.” I winked. “I made sure of it.”
It was one of the things I asked Jashon to get her while we were at Super Bowl.
Wynter’s eyes blew up then she relaxed. “You know how to surf?”
“Not really.” She laughed and I couldn’t help but do the same. “Young called himself teaching me a lil something. I suck, but it’s fun—if you can swim. Can you swim?”
Her chin dipped. “Young, as in Young Lord?” I nodded. “A dude from Paterson taught you how to surf? How the hell did he learn?”
I smiled. “He evolved his mind, sweetheart.”
I couldn’t help laughing. I sat, straddling the board over the clear deep blue waters while I watched her trying to balance her own…without success. God, it was gorgeous out: clear skies, tropic sounds, and a bright looming sun. I was told the water sparkled at night by Trent Bailey, who sent me a text the night of Super Bowl to say thanks for stopping through and showing support. He invited Wynter and me to a gathering they were having and I declined, explaining our low-key surprise trip out here. That’s when he told me he and Jade honeymooned in Saint Justin. It was also where Ezra and his wife, Lex, celebrated their oldest daughter’s birthday last fall. Crazy bizarre.
“Hahahahahahahaha!” I couldn’t help it.
She pulled up on her surfboard, wiping the cascading water from her face and trying to catch her breath. The instructor kept asking her to be patient. And Wynter had that determined look in her eyes as she paddled toward another incoming. As I cracked up, she mounted the board again.
“Be quick and don’t look back!” I shouted to her.
If she ignored me, I wouldn’t know because Wynter paddled her arms toward the growing hill then lifted just her upper torso from her splayed palms. Almost with athletic agility, she hopped to her feet on the board and balanced her way into a standing position just as she met the wave.
Wow…
I was impressed by her ability to follow instruction. Just like when we were in the gym, Wynter talked little and pushed herself to complete the task. I was almost jealous her teaching was coming from someone other than me. Nah. Scratch that. I was jealous. She bent her legs just right, and even though she struggled for balance, the faint grooves in her thick thighs and legs reminded me of her commitment to working out over the past month. She didn’t get too far before collapsing in the water again, but she rode more of the wave than she did the last few attempts.
All of a sudden, nothing was funny. All humor was washed away. Now, I was turned the hell on by how, in just an hour and a half, shortie had learned the basics of surfing. That was Wynter, though.
Determined.
Flexible.
Resilient.
“Mmmmmm…” she moaned against my chest.
I wrapped my leg around the back of her thigh as we floated in the water. Wynter’s arms fell underneath me, gripping my thighs and occasionally rubbing my cheeks back there.
“What is it with you and a man’s ass?” I asked as I laughed.
With her chin on my chest she smiled brightly, the sun flashing over her choppers made me appreciate her recent efforts to have them straightened and whitened, though I had no idea what they looked like before. “It’s your ass I’m infatuated with—no.” She shook her head, devilish grin at play as usual. “I’m in love with. Your body is to die for. It’s my forbidden fruit.”
“Technically, it’s not. We’re married.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Yeah,” I snorted. “So, you’re just serpent minded, is all.” She giggled sweetly.
Wynter didn’t apologize for her sexual appetite or bold libido. I loved that about her. Loved her. Yup. I went from entertaining the fact I had a wife, to tolerating her living in my homes, to finding her funny then cute, to finding her attractive, to actually liking her, to enjoying sex with her, then to loving her.
God, I need to do better as a human…
We lay quietly and floated over the calm water. This was nice. So nice I could get used to it. Gazing up to the blue sky brought a Stevie Wonder track to mind. I found myself humming the melody, relaxing myself as I steadied my body to float the two of us. Wynter kissed my chest as though recognizing the tune and approving it. Then she lay the side of her face down, against the beat of my heart. This was good. I thought of the meaning to the lyrics as they flowed through my head. I never fully understood them, only believed them to be beautiful. Now, with my attention fixated on God’s wonder, I began to develop my own meaning. I was grateful. What had begun as something deceptive and manipulating was now an adventure of possibly a true friendship.
I trusted Wynter. And that could have been because she didn’t take me seriously enough to sell my business to blogs, or use our arranged marriage to bring people into my personal space, giving them privy to my home or life. She had been too occupied with her own personal affairs, struggling to get them together. And this was a scary revelation for me. I hadn’t trusted anyone new since I was a child. Now, I wanted to see the world through her eyes. Was desperate to be like her and step out of my comfort zone, and take risks to liberate my limited mind.
When my skin above the water felt overheated, I splashed water on the both of us. Wynter didn’t move. In fact, I thought I heard a little snore. That sent a chill through me. She trusted me that much to fall asleep in, what had to be, at least seven feet of water, allowing me to guide us.
God,
what is this?
I slowly steered back to the beach, moving in a way that didn’t disturb her until we made it. I couldn’t wait to see the water sparkle with her out here.
“Wynter…” I heard then my toes hit sand in the water. “Time to get up, sleepy head.”
My eyes blinked open behind my sunglasses, and I was met with Raj’s seductive smile he couldn’t help. I stood, stumbling a little. Chuckling, he caught me and walked me hand in hand onto the dry sand. He looked for Danny G, who had stayed behind with our personal items.
“Oh, my god!” I heard a feminine shriek.
“Well, I’ll be damned!” a masculine voice boomed through.
I craned my neck beyond Raj to the left of me and saw a couple approaching us with an angry baby. The man was rather short but well built, and the woman was fit in a string bikini. Her chestnut hair up in a sloppy bun over her head.
“Is that you?” she asked with a fussy baby in a fisherman’s hat and a blob of sunblock on his nose.
This was the first time I’d been with Raj at a non-work event where he was recognized. Last night, he wore a baseball cap low. Today, he was without it while we were in the water.
By the slow smile cresting on his face, I could tell Ragee was cool with it.
“Oh, my god, honey! It is him!”
“It’s nice to meet you, man!” The husband approached Raj for a handshake. “My wife’s a huge fan, bro! Sometimes I have to wonder,” he joked.
Raj pulled me behind him, but close so I my chest was on his back as he obliged the man in a shake.
“Holy shit!” the woman trilled, bouncing the fussy little baby. “Can we please have a picture. I swear, we’ll let you go. My friends’ll never believe this.” I was able to detect a Latin accent.
“Sure,” Raj agreed.
“And with your wife, too. I’m so happy you married a brown girl,” she remarked.
I couldn’t help my snicker. Even Ragee chuckled at that. The husband asked someone to take the picture with his phone. We took a few with the nice family. Raj playfully pinched my ass, making me smile bigger than I preferred.
“You mind taking one with my son, Riccardo?” the husband asked.
Raj’s eyes hit me. “No problem.”
When the wife placed the baby in Raj’s arm, he wailed. Even me standing on the other side of him, rubbing his little chunky arm didn’t soothe him. He wiggled in Raj’s hold and that’s when I noticed his runny nose. The kid sounded congested, too.
“Oh, Rickey!” his mother begged the baby.
“He’s got a cold, honey. He’ll be a little cranky.” The husband took the picture.
And as soon as he confirmed he was done, it hit me that if they shared it on social media, the world would know we were here. Raj wanted it to be a secret. But an even bigger surprise hit us both. The fussy baby sneezed and vomited, spewing thick mucousy snot from his mouth and nose.
“Oh!” Raj cawed like a straight up dude, holding the kid in the air.
Quickly, I grabbed the dangling baby, already covered in his slime.
“Hey,” I whispered in his ear while handing little Rickey back to his parents, “that may get out.”
Raj glanced at me for a few seconds as though thinking of the prospect.
Then he shrugged. “It is what it is. C’mon.” He grabbed my hand. “We need to shower this goo off of us.”
I laughed. We gave our goodbyes to the family and traveled a few steps where Danny G had been watching us the whole time. Well, watching his client, Ragee. Raj dried as much as he could off with a towel before going for his man pouch for his phone—which I found interesting—and tapped on it as we took off for our bungalow.
“Everything okay?” I asked, wiping down my arms and chest as we walked the sparsely populated beach.
“Yeah,” Raj answered without looking at me. “Jashon hit me up, saying Pastor McKinnon wants to come back tonight.”
“Oh, cool! You’re okay with that?”
“Yeah,” he spoke as he tapped away. “I ain’t think she was gonna come back. She’s never stayed this long. I’m good with it.”
“Me, too.”
Raj peered down on me and smiled appreciatively. That widened my own beam.
~18~
“Whew!” I sat back in the chair with a full belly.
“You hardly ate anything.” I heard the scolding in his observation from across the small white linen table.
“I had a lot of fish. That shit was huge!” My eyes went wild.
His narrowed. “You really need to curb that.”
“What?” I grinned, bringing my arms underneath the table.
“You know what.” Raj glanced over his shoulder to the piano.
He’d been eyeing the thing all night. The restaurant was mostly empty, only four other couples here since we arrived. The food was delicious. Raj ordered us the same dish: Chilean sea bass in lemon caper sauce, wild mushroom risotto, and crispy string beans. Though the texture didn’t quite agree with me, I nibbled on the risotto, ate all the vegetables, and most of the fish. The restaurant was romantic, carpeted floors in the dining area, small candle-lit tables, and low lighting. Slow music flowed overhead, covering the sound of the ocean.
“I need to leave room to move my waist.” I batted my lashes at him.
He smirked. “Is that all I’m good for?”
“No. You’re a good pillow, too.”
Raj snorted. I smiled, but was horny as hell. I couldn’t wait to get back to the bungalow and have him all over me. I’d been craving him behind me since we woke up this morning.
A guy in a suit jacket and tie approached our table. He offered me a polite bow before whispering in Raj’s ear. Raj nodded as he wiped his mouth then tossed his napkin on the table.
When the man sauntered off, Raj leaned into the table and his brows furrowed, but his eyes were kind. “You mind if I embarrass you for a few minutes?”
My face opened and I scoffed, “Go right on ahead and try.”
He smiled handsomely as he rose from the table. Somewhat unexpectedly, he went straight to the piano. I didn’t exactly think that would be the tool he’d use to embarrass me. Raj sat on the bench of a baby grand piano, one smaller than his at home, and adjusted the microphone. His fingertips brushed a few keys before he spoke.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” He cleared his voice, continuing with a tune. No one spoke, but I sat up, resting my elbows on the table and two other couples in my line of sight seemed to have cut their conversations. “I go by the name of Sugar Keys.” He swiped down the keyboard fluidly. “I’m not the hired entertainer for the night, but I’ve…” He tapped the large clear vase on top of the piano. “…never turned down a tip.” The room laughed. “Anyway.” He smiled with full on charm and I shuffled in my seat to get more comfortable over the table. “I’m up here to acknowledge a very special occasion. No, it’s not my honeymoon. Not my anniversary or anything like that. It’s a missed birthday.”
He played the suspense sound effect, and along with me, the few others in the room fell into laughter.
“Yup. I committed the common but biggest no-no for a newlywed man. So,” He went into an unfamiliar soft flow. “…in a pathetic effort to redeem myself, I’ll attempt to share how grateful I am—and the world should be—for a special event in nineteen eighty-nine. Take this journey with me, y’all.”
His fingers stroked the keys and after a few seconds, I realized Raj was working himself into a song. Because it was only a piano playing, it took until he began singing the first few lines to recognize the song. He began with Regina Belle’s “Baby Come to Me.” My eyes rolled back as they closed. He had no idea how striking this piece was to my emotions. Raj’s agile chords sang at a note appropriate for a man. My mother loved Regina Belle. This song served familiar very early on in my mind. My mother would play her whole album over and over for years. I remember being three or four and seeing her sing it in the mirror with a brush in her
hand. My grandfather told me, he was able to score her tickets to see Regina, months after my mother gave birth to me. He said she thanked him for months after.
My lids parted when Raj changed the tempo before finishing the song. Seamlessly, he went into “In the Heat of the Moment” by After 7. This song always made me want to dance. My grandmother was a huge After 7 fan, probably crushing on them. She’d sing along when this came on the radio as we cruised the streets in her car. My shoulders swayed left to right as I remembered my maternal grandmother with sweet thoughts.
Next came a Patti LaBelle track, “If You Asked Me To.” Raj’s immense talent was able to slow it down to compensate for the lack of instrumentation on hand. The small crowd clapped to his set rhythm. My face began to ache from the smile he plastered on it. Smoothly, he transitioned into a number called “If You Don’t Know Me by Now.” In between the chorus, Raj mentioned some white guy coming after Teddy Pendergrass with a rendition, and suddenly I understood why his vocal dropped thick and rich with this one. Damn, Ragee could sing his ass off! Teddy Pendergrass always reminded me of my father—my real dad. He was a huge Teddy P fan. Said it was “real” music. I also realized Teddy’s vocal register was Ragee’s natural one.
As he played, clearly going into another song, he asked, “Y’all may not remember the name, but hopefully you’ll recognized Chuckii Booker’s “Turned Away.” And as he moved from the verse to the chorus, I leaped in my seat, recalling the number myself. I snapped my fingers and swung my arms in the air. Raj was a natural up there. I forgot he played several instruments. He seemed so comfortable and in his element, a far cry from the recluse major star I’d known of him.
Alyson Williams’ “Just Call My Name” almost brought tears to my eyes. The song would make me sad for some odd reason when my mother jammed to it. This whole impromptu show almost cut on the waterworks for me and would have, if I were a crier. But I wasn’t. I hadn’t cried since sitting at my grandfather’s death bed and saying goodbye. But this brought back memories of my mother, too. She’d light up when this video would come on. One older white couple was up and slow dancing to this. The other couple was out of their seats, too, holding hands while swaying much like I’d been doing.
