Before getting out of the car, he lightly took hold of her hand. In silence she stared at him. He smoothed back a strand of loose hair from her round face, and then placed his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her toward him. He cupped her chin tenderly and kissed her long and hard. Layla breathed lightly.
“Come on, let’s go inside,” he said when their lips parted.
Layla liked the laid back style of Dennis’s house. Traditional, open spaced, hardwood floors, and color. His taste was impeccable.
“Help yourself. Look around. This is home. I’ll fix us something to drink,” he told her when he saw her looking somewhat unsure of whether she could freely move about.
Layla was glad that he’d given her the okay to walk through the house. Each room had its own traditional flavor. The kitchen: natural light, high ceilings, plenty of space to entertain. The open living area and family room: eclectic, yellow-gold color palette mixed with lush reds and browns. She moved cautiously like a cat on the prowl for its prey. The first two bedrooms were traditionally decorated as was the bathroom. She moved to the third bedroom, and was startled by Dennis when he eased behind her and stole a kiss on her neck. Layla turned, and Dennis gave her a glass of sparkling cider.
“How do you like everything so far?” he asked.
“It’s…It’s gorgeous. I love the traditional style and the way you’ve mixed your colors. It reminds me of a home on HGTV.” Layla took a sip of her cider.
“I wish I could take all of the credit, but I can’t.” Layla stopped and focused on his face. “I have three sisters. Two of them have their own interior design businesses. I told them what I liked, and they took over and made it happen.” He spoke proudly and had an upward turn of his mouth when he spoke about his sisters. “Have you seen my room?” Dennis asked.
“I don’t know. I saw two bedrooms. I wasn’t sure if one of those was yours or not.”
“No, those are guest rooms. My room is on the other side of the house.” Dennis walked and turned to the right and followed another hallway until they reached another entrance. Dennis’s room was exuberant. Tranquil, soft color palette ran throughout the room. Italian bed linens, custom lighting, a beautiful garden view and a pop-up flat-screen TV hidden in the bed’s footboard. The master bathroom was just as impressive.
“This is like, like a home for the rich and famous. God is really blessing you, Dennis.” Layla turned, sipped on her cider again, and watched him without blinking an eye. “I hope you realize that there are people in the world who would dream to live in a home as lovely as this. So please, don’t take what you’ve been blessed with for granted.”
“I haven’t, and I hope I never will. Let me show you one more thing.” He tugged her gently by the bend of her elbow and led her to another entrance that showcased a sitting area like that out of Better Homes and Gardens until they reached another door inside the sitting room. He opened the door and Layla’s eyes widened in surprise and awe. Fragrant candles, a Bible opened to Deuteronomy, chapter 28, and a patterned pillow with Bible inscriptions that lay on the floor for kneeling. There was a small cherry wood table with a book light and a padded chair. On the walls were plaques and pictures, all of a scriptural nature.
“This is where I come to seek total solitude and alone time with God. This is my church, not some building that I go to every Sunday. I do love to fellowship with other like-minded individuals who love and worship the same God I do. But this is where I spend my one on one time with Him…my prayer closet.”
Layla remained speechless, and her eyes remained focused on the prayer closet until she could contain herself no longer. “May I?”
“You may,” he replied and extended his hand outward.
Layla walked inside the prayer closet. Instantly a feeling of peace consumed her like never before. Her spirit seemed to become enlightened. Indeed it was a sanctuary, sacred ground. She sensed the presence of God.
“Dennis, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. I’ve heard of prayer closets but I’ve never seen one.” She admired the closet a while, and then walked back into the sitting room.
“I’m glad you approve.” His infectious laughter brought even more joy into her spirit. “Hey, where is your cider?” he asked.
“Oops, I think I left it in your bedroom. I’m sorry. I don’t want to mess up your house. You may not invite me back,” she said teasingly, though she was serious. She would love to spend time here if Dennis wanted her to.
“No problem. I’ll let you pass this time,” he joked. He saw the half glass of cider sitting on the table in the bedroom. He picked it up and carried it back to the kitchen with Layla following behind him. “Since we’ve seen a movie already, what do you think about dancing?” He took hold of her hand and led her into the family room.
Surprise washed over her face. “I don’t think so. The only dance I know how to do is the electric slide.”
“All right, the electric slide it is. Then it’s going to be my turn to choose a dance.”
“Dennis, I wasn’t serious.” Layla tried to explain.
“Too late. You can’t renege on me now.” Dennis turned on the music system and chose a CD that was perfect for doing the electric slide. He took four or five more CDs and placed them in the CD changer. The first song came on and Dennis swiftly moved over to where Layla stood. “Let’s go,” he instructed and laughed. He began doing the electric slide.
When Layla remained in the same spot, he took hold of her hand, insisting that she dance along with him. Reluctantly she did. After a few minutes of doing the dance, Layla and Dennis were laughing until Layla almost started crying from laughing so hard. When the song ended, she inhaled and exhaled. The next song that came on was a slow jam. Dennis pulled her into the curve of his chiseled body. His hands traveled slowly down the length of her back while they slow danced. Layla’s heart pounded like it was about to jump out of her chest. The feel of her body next to his made her emotions swirl and her mind cloudy with desire. His lips brushed against hers.
“I love you, Layla Hobbs.” His words awakened more sensations inside of Layla.
Dennis’s moist, firm mouth covered Layla’s and they both breathed heavily in a full state of willful desire. When the song ended, they remained in the center of the den floor. Dennis caressed her thickness and he buried his face against her throat. Layla trembled as the mere touch of his roving hands sparked warm shivers in her body. “I want you, girl. Do you want me?” he asked her.
Layla didn’t miss a beat. She immediately responded, “Yes, yes, yes.”
Dennis led her to his bedroom and pulled the covers back. When she appeared to be getting nervous, Dennis smothered her with kisses and whispered warmly in her ear, “Don’t be afraid of me. I won’t hurt the one I love.”
He pushed Layla back on the bed and slowly began to peel away from her anything that posed a barrier. He did the same to himself, and looking at him, her defenses weakened, and then disappeared altogether. Layla gasped while they explored each other’s bodies. He was intoxicating. There was no turning back. Layla didn’t want to turn back. The flames of passion were searing and overrode everything else, even her Christian belief.
Chapter Twenty
It is foolish to wish for beauty. Sensible people never either desire it for themselves
or care about it in others. If the mind be but well cultivated, and the heart well disposed, no one ever cares for the exterior. Anne Bronte
Envy stepped outside on her porch and immediately felt a strangeness within. She looked at “Mrs. Rawlings’s porch. Envy knocked on the elderly woman’s door with Fischer yelping beside her. It wasn’t like Mrs. Rawlings not to be peering through the curtains or outside in her garden. “Fischer, where is she?” The dog barked in return.
“The daily newspaper lay in front of Mrs. Rawlings’s door untouched, which heightened Envy’s concern. She pushed back her glasses, pulled out her cell phone and called Mrs. Rawlings’s home phone again. She could h
ear it ringing through Mrs. Rawlings’s door. When her voicemail came on, Envy started walking around the duplex to see if she could see anything through her neighbor’s windows. She should have been glad that Mrs. Rawlings had kept out of her business for a change. She was one nosy neighbor, but as much as she may have hated to admit it, she sometimes enjoyed the fact that there was someone who was concerned about her. It surely wasn’t her sister, who she’d only spoken to once since their mother’s death. She hadn’t heard anything from her father either, not that she expected to.
Mrs. Rawlings, on the other hand, was sometimes overbearing, always nosy, and acted like she was clairvoyant at times. Some attention was better than no attention at all. Envy and Fischer walked back around to the front of the duplex.
“Fischer, we’re going to have to call 911. I don’t like what’s going on, or should I say what’s not going on.” Fischer wagged his tail and barked, rubbing his paws against Mrs. Rawlings door. “Shush, Fischer.” Envy paused when she saw the knob slowly turn and heard the creaking sound of Mrs. Rawlings’s door open.
Looking white as a ghost and like she’d lost ten pounds of her already frail 100-pound frame, Envy gasped at the sight of Mrs. Rawlings. Fischer started barking again.
“Mrs. Rawlings, what’s wrong?” Without waiting on an invitation to enter the apartment, Envy forced herself in past Mrs. Rawlings. The putrid smell inside the house almost made Envy vomit.
Mrs. Rawlings always kept a clean house. As long as she’d known her elderly neighbor, there was never a time that Envy smelled anything like she did today. It was a smell of urine and feces. Totally out of character for the old woman. Envy held Mrs. Rawlings up by encircling her hand around her waist and using the other hand to brace her body. The smell was on Mrs. Rawlings too.
She helped the old lady to sit down on the sofa and Envy proceeded to call 911. Afterward, she hurriedly went into the bathroom. It was clean except for the toilet which hadn’t been flushed. Envy flushed the toilet and searched through the bathroom closet and found a wash pail, ran hot water in it and grabbed a bar of soap. She hurried back to where Mrs. Rawlins still lay. Next she went into her bedroom, and the smell of soiled sheets made Envy cover her nose and mouth. She searched through the drawers until she found a clean pair of underwear and a clean robe. She didn’t want Mrs. Rawlings to be embarrassed and humiliated when the ambulance arrived.
Envy moved with breakneck speed, and though she’d never done such a thing before, she held her breath and washed and cleaned Mrs. Rawlings until the smell was gone. She dressed her in clean underwear and a house dress, finishing just in time as she heard the sound of the ambulance siren and Fischer’s wild barking.
Envy ran and opened the door as quickly as she could to let Fischer in the house. The ambulance pulled into the driveway and Envy directed them to Mrs. Rawlings’s apartment. They immediately checked her vitals, asked Envy several questions about Mrs. Rawlings’s health and more.
“Appears as if she might have had a stroke,” one of the paramedics said. They called in the vital signs while they carried her into the ambulance. “What hospital, ma’am?” Envy remained quiet. The EMT repeated the question, this time more forcefully like he was telling her to hurry up.
“Uhh, Methodist Healthcare University Central,” Envy told them.
“You riding with her?” the same EMT asked.
“No, I’ll follow in my car. Just get her to the hospital. I’ll be right there. Is she going to be all right?”
“Ma’am, we need to get her to a hospital right away. She’s in bad shape. A doctor can tell you more once she’s been thoroughly examined.” He jumped inside the back of the ambulance with Mrs. Rawlings and another EMT who was placing oxygen over her mouth, and an IV in Mrs. Rawlings’s scaly arms. The heavy doors closed on the ambulance and it whisked off down the street.
Envy returned to Mrs. Rawlings’s house, pulled off the soiled sheets, and gathered all of the soiled items she could find. On first thought she was going to wash them, but then she changed her mind and placed them in a plastic trash bag. She found a can of Lysol and sprayed the entire house. She’d call Merry Maids to come over and give the house a thorough cleaning once she found out how Mrs. Rawlings was doing. Envy scrubbed her hands until they became wrinkled, and then used a Clorox wipe to disinfect the doorknob that Mrs. Rawlings had touched when she allowed her inside. She grabbed the keys off the key hook, locked the woman’s door, and then hurried to her apartment to change into a pair of jeans and a shirt.
“Fischer, I have to go see about Mrs. Rawlings. Be a good boy.” She patted his head and dashed out of the door and jumped into her car. By the time she made it to the hospital, Mrs. Rawlings was in the emergency room. They were running a battery of tests on her. She was barely conscious and unable to move when they allowed Envy into the room.
After almost five hours, the doctor came in and explained to Envy that they were going to admit Mrs. Rawlings into the hospital. “She’s suffered a stroke, and now she’s in a diabetic coma. Put the two together with the fact that she’s 84 years old, and that should tell you that this is pretty serious, ma’am,” he spoke with sorrow.
She twirled around, unsure of what to say or do. “But is she going to be all right?” Envy focused her attention back on the doctor.
“We’re doing all we can. She’s being admitted to CCU where she can be watched 24/7. How long has she been like this?” the doctor asked with raised eyebrows.
“I don’t know. I hadn’t seen her in a couple of days so I knocked on her door but she didn’t answer. I was getting ready to call 911 when she opened the door. That’s when I saw that something was wrong with her. She didn’t speak to me or say anything. She had soiled her clothes and bed. I managed to clean her up before the EMTs arrived. That’s all I can tell you.”
The doctor turned to leave. “We’ll call you when we get her settled into CCU. It shouldn’t be much longer. There are two more tests we need to run.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Envy sat in the waiting room area for another hour before she heard them call her name. The receptionist directed her to the CCU waiting room and nurses’ station. “How is Mrs. Rawlings? She was just admitted to CCU.” The nurse scanned the patient list. “Are you related to her?”
“Yes,” Envy lied, “I’m her granddaughter. She has no other family other than me.” That much was true as far as Envy knew. Mrs. Rawlings had no living relatives who were able to see about her. If she did, they must be just as old or sickly as she was because no one ever came to visit her except church members.
Envy would call Mrs. Rawlings’s church tomorrow during office hours so they could place her on the sick and shut in list.
“Ma’am, if you want to go home, you can. You can leave your contact information and we’ll let you know if there’s any change in Mrs. Rawlings’s condition. Right now, we’re working to get her sugar level stabilized and testing to see the extent of her stroke. It’s not likely that you’ll be able to see her again until tomorrow morning.” The nurse was kind and her voice sounded compassionate.
“Thank you. I just want to make sure she’s going to be all right.” Envy tried to hold back her tears.
The nurse walked over to where Envy sat. She reached out and hugged Envy. “She’ll be fine. We’re going to take good care of her. I promise. I’ll be here all night. And there’s going to be someone monitoring her around the clock, okay?” She patted Envy on the shoulder.
“Okay, I appreciate your concern.”
“That’s what we’re here for. We’ll do all we can for her.”
Envy turned and slowly walked away. A flurry of thoughts from her past spilled over in her mind as she sped on the interstate and toward home. So much had happened in her life that she didn’t know where to start. Mistake after mistake she’d made. She pulled up in the driveway hurriedly, locked the car door, and ran up the walk and inside her apartment. Fischer jumped up and down, begging for attention, but this was o
ne of those nights she didn’t want to be bothered by anyone.
“Go away, Fischer. I don’t feel like petting you right now. I need a break.” She huffed past him and he plopped down and whined as she went to her bedroom and slammed the door behind her.
She continued to survey her miserable life. She thought of her mother and the name she’d given her. It was her mother’s fought that so much bad luck had crossed her path. Her father couldn’t care less about her. He had a new family, kids, the whole shebang. Then there was Nikkei. The only sister she had, other than the new set of siblings her father had, but who was counting them? Nikkei was busy living her life with a great husband and two kids. The perfect all American dream. No financial worries or anything hard ever came across Nikkei’s path.
The small insurance policy their mother had was enough to give her a nice funeral, and the remaining money was split between the two of them. It turned out to be a little less than seven thousand dollars for each of them. But that was no money. Envy had more than that amount of money put away in her 401K, and she placed her mother’s inheritance in it too. Money wasn’t her problem, and money couldn’t solve her problem. Her problem was her life. The numerous men she’d bedded; some with names she remembered, and others who got up from her bed and disappeared like a wisp of wind. None of them could make her forget the hurt and anguish of her troubled life.
She wouldn’t admit it, but she didn’t miss her own mother. Her own dead mother, and she barely felt anything when she died. The only people who meant anything to her were Layla, Kacie, and Mrs. Rawlings. Leonard quickly came to the front of her mind. Why Leonard? He’s just another man on the list. No one special, other than a good lay. As for God, I’ve tried to keep the faith, Lord. But I don’t see how you could ever forgive me, when I can’t forgive myself. I’m a terrible, evil, person. I’m a whore and a slut, and more than that, I’m a murderer. You said those who are murderers, idolaters, adulterers, fornicators, and a whole list of other sins you named in the Bible, wouldn’t see heaven. Well, you and I both know that I fall into more than one of those categories. So I already have one foot cemented in hell.
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