I'd Rather Be With You

by Mary B. Morrison

  I stood, sniffled, and then swallowed a lump, which hurt my throat. Madison stood and wrapped her arms around me.

  “You’ll be just fine, Mama. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

  I kissed my friend on the cheek. “I love you, Madison. Thanks.”

  Madison whispered, “If friends aren’t there when you need them, then why do you need them?”

  As I walked through the open door, Madison’s words made me think about Loretta.

  When the needle for the IV slid into my vein, I questioned, Should I go through with having this abortion?

  CHAPTER 19

  Chicago

  Pow!

  A bullet raced above my head; the second one was closer. God, please don’t let me die. I jumped into the pool. My body plunged to the bottom. I fought to stay close to the bottom, beside my brother, Chaz. I didn’t inhale. Water invaded my nostrils. I held my breath. Struggling to open my eyes, I couldn’t. I jerked, praying I’d awaken before it was too late.

  “Wake up.”

  I heard a voice, felt a hand shaking me. Still, I fought, knowing if I breathed, I’d drown.

  “Roosevelt!”

  “Huh? What?” Finally my eyes opened. Struggling to slow the rapid beat of my heart, I looked at my wife. She was asleep.

  The sheets beneath me felt drenched with sweat. In my dream I floated in a pool filled with my blood. The only one who knew about my nightmares was Loretta, and now Madison.

  Pulling back the cover, I sat beside Madison in our bed. She was absolutely the most beautiful woman I’d ever met. That used to apply to both inside and out. Despite her decisions, I still loved this woman with all my heart. I didn’t understand why. Maybe God let me live so I’d be here for Madison.

  I touched my sheets. They were dry. I leaned my back against the headboard. When I lay down to sleep, strange things came to life. Reality and fiction crisscrossed in my mind. My dreams at times seemed real. And what I thought was happening while I was awake was a flashback to when I was shot.

  Madison mumbled, “I’m so tired,” then added, “And scared.”

  I knew what it felt like to be afraid—to have a machine breathing for you. Madison would be on oxygen during her surgery. If all went well, they’d take her off the same day. It was more of a precaution for her. They weren’t sure when they unplugged my respirator if I’d make it.

  First I felt sweat, not everything is dry. I was alive, but I wasn’t sure if I was awake. I touched my arms, then slapped my face. Yes, I was awake.

  I didn’t have to go under the knife and have body parts removed, like Madison would. But would we both be in shock when we saw her breasts were gone? For me, they took out one bullet, left one in, and the other one grazed me.

  Was I being selfish to ask Madison to wake up because I needed to talk? What if the worst happened and she didn’t make it?

  “Baby, we need to talk,” I said, nudging her. “It won’t take long, baby. I need your attention.”

  “Okay,” she said, propping herself up next to me.

  I kissed her. She hugged me. My manhood crept down my thigh. Yes, I was definitely awake.

  Except for her slightly protruding stomach, Madison’s body was the same as the day I’d met her. She was four months. In five more months the kid would be here.

  Staring into her eyes, I had to ask, “Madison, do you love me?”

  Softly she exhaled. “Of course I love you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Roosevelt, please. Just say what you have to say. I was up late last night with Tisha and—”

  “I know, baby.”

  At least, Madison hadn’t told me she aborted the baby inside her. If Darryl ever found out what Tisha had done, he’d have a right to be pissed; but he didn’t have the right to make her suffer a lifetime if he wasn’t going to do his part as a parent.

  I wasn’t upset, but I might be the biggest fool for what I was about to say. In my heart I had to ask her what she didn’t ask me. “What do you need me to do for you while you’re in the hospital? What are your final wishes? I mean, if you’re placed on life support or a breathing machine, what do you want me to do?”

  She kissed my lips. “I’m not sure.”

  Her answer wasn’t helpful. “I don’t want to decide for you. I pray I don’t have to, but what if?”

  She whispered, “Let me die. Promise to love our baby the way you love me. And I’ll smile down from wherever I am. Roosevelt, I don’t deserve you. We both know that.”

  I agreed. I deserved better. Just like in football, I knew teams never got what they deserved. They got what they earned. I wanted to give Madison the chance to win back my love while I was still in love with her. There was no way I could abandon my wife in her greatest time of need. I wanted her to fight for our marriage.

  “But what about the baby? We have an obligation to make sure the baby is okay. What if they ask me to save you or the child? Then what?”

  “Keep me alive long enough to . . . save the baby,” she said as though she wished she were dead already.

  What about me? Why didn’t she choose to live? We could have another child.

  “I was going to wait to bring this up, but I know your dad’s company isn’t doing well.”

  For the first time she looked into my eyes. “How do you know that?”

  When I was in the hospital being taken off the respirator, my brother had told me, “Madison and her dad were asked by a news reporter if she married you for your money to save her dad’s company. Chaz made a few calls and found that was true. Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

  Chaz was doing an awesome job, but I was getting bored sitting around my condo advising him. Once I was sure that Madison was fine, I was going back to work full-time. I wanted to be on the road with the team, but I had to make sure she . . . My thoughts went in a different direction with another question, which I wasn’t ready to know the answer to.

  “I don’t want you to worry. I’ll give your dad a call and meet with him. Whatever he needs, I’m sure I can help him out.”

  “I don’t know, Roosevelt. I’m afraid my dad has dug a hole so deep, we’ll never recover.”

  “Nonsense. That’s like saying you’ve fallen and you won’t get up. Setbacks are a part of business. I’ll meet with him. Go back to sleep.”

  I wanted to ask Madison if the baby inside her was mine. Only God knew the answer, and the Christian in me didn’t want to mistreat Madison. I’d wait to find out. Either way, I had to consult with my attorney on my next moves.

  Kissing Madison softly on the lips, I told her, “Whatever you need, I’ll take care of it, and you.”

  Madison softly said, “Roosevelt.”

  “Yes.”

  “Make love to me like it’s our last time. I want to feel like a complete woman. One. Last. Time.”

  The last time we were sexual was before the reception. We’d stopped at Madison’s after the wedding to change clothes for the reception. We were already late, so I had settled for a quickie. This time I was in no hurry.

  Gazing into her eyes, I pressed my lips to hers and held them there. Then I told her, “I love you.”

  I trailed kisses to her ear; then I stuck my tongue inside. Her hands firmly embraced me. When she touched my dick, I moved her hand.

  “Let me do what you asked.”

  Trailing kisses from her neck, I stopped above her collarbone and made a liquid necklace with the tip of my tongue. From her throat to her cleavage, I planted my lips, never letting them leave her body.

  I gripped those hips, which rode me so well; the thought almost made me cum. I gently pulled her onto her back, centering her in the bed. My fingertip traveled to her Brazilian; then I made her pubic area my canvas. My tongue was the brush. I didn’t wait for my saliva to dry. I cupped my mouth over her clit to keep her wet.

  Just the way she liked it, I didn’t suction the “little man” out of the boat. I lightly rubbed the tip of my tongue in up
ward strokes.

  “Oh, baby. That feels so good.”

  Hearing Madison moan made precum ooze from my dick onto the sheets. This wasn’t about me, so I refocused. It was time to tug at the man in the boat. Not hard enough to pull him out. I softly sucked, pulling my wife to the edge of climaxing.

  The “oohs,” alternating with the “aahs,” grew louder and closer together.

  I inserted my middle finger into her vagina. It was tight, hot, and juicy. I had to taste her fluids. Placing my finger in my mouth, I savored her flavor. I’d almost forgotten how sweet she was.

  Madison moaned, “Make me squirt.”

  Easing my finger back inside her walls, I slowly rotated the tip in small circles against her G-spot. Starting over, I pressed the tip of my tongue to her clit. Short, light, upward strokes grew into suctioning the little man. While applying more pressure to the G-spot to stimulate filling her reservoir with the fluids that would soon eject from her urethra, I never let my mouth leave her clit.

  “Oh, my God!” she screamed, showering me. When she stopped screaming, her body rested heavily against the mattress.

  I didn’t stop pleasing her. I passionately caressed her breasts. Lightly brushing my hands around her beautiful, plump mounds, I swept back and forth across her nipples. I didn’t pinch them, because I wasn’t sure if that would hurt.

  Instead, I kissed my wife’s breasts until she cried.

  CHAPTER 20

  Johnny

  “I’ll meet you there, honey.”

  Rosalee was dressed and ready to head out hours before Madison was scheduled to go under the knife this morning. I had professional situations to tend to first. Sitting at a hospital, waiting until the surgery was over, wasn’t going to benefit us. If something went wrong, there was nothing we could do to fix it. I was starting to feel that no matter what I did, losing my company was inevitable. But I had to keep trying.

  My wife commanded, “Johnny, business can wait. I need you, and Madison needs us. Let’s go.”

  I kissed her lips. “I’ll be there before she gets out of surgery. Promise. You’d better get going before neither one of us is there for her.”

  Waiting for my wife to drive away in her Mercedes, I headed in the opposite direction in my Porsche. I stopped at a corner bakery café.

  “I’ll have a large coffee.” Leaving the lid off, I sat alone, away from others.

  Facing the window, I hung my head. Men weren’t supposed to cry. That was my only child, my baby girl, my sweetheart. Tears fell into my cup. Family could forgive one another for failures, but death was final. I had to call Madison.

  “Hey, Papa. Where are you? Mama said you weren’t coming.”

  Damn that Rosalee. She couldn’t wait and let me tell Madison.

  “I’ll be there. Don’t worry. Your mother should be there any minute. Have you and Chicago left yet?”

  “We’re walking out now.”

  “I promise you, my face will be one of the first you’ll see when you wake up. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Papa.”

  “Bye, sweetheart.”

  Leaving my cup on the table, I went to my car. I placed my hands on the roof and buried my face. This time I cried like a baby. It felt strange. I stopped, dried my eyes, and sat behind the wheel. Convinced myself all would be well. My wife had survived forty years cancer free.

  At the pace Rosalee was moving healthwise, she’d outlive me. If she found out I was back to my old ways, she’d kill me.

  I loved Madison, but there were times I wished she were a boy. Men related differently. When it didn’t have to do with our woman, we were strong. We understood the predator that lived within us. And every predator had to have prey. Women wanted to save every living soul.

  Parking in a space reserved for future homeowners, I saw that Madison was gone and the guy I was meeting was already there. I got out of my car and dropped the keys in his hand.

  “Follow me,” I said, leading the way to the garage at Chicago’s condominium complex.

  “How much you want for this lustful red Ferrari Spider?” he asked, starting the engine.

  Madison’s car wasn’t worth the half million I wanted. No shrewd buyer was going to pay more than the blue book value. “I’ll take two hundred thousand, cash.”

  Scanning under the hood, he laughed; then he told me, “Man, you got jokes. Do I look like a sucka to you? I buy and resell for a business, not a hobby.” Carefully he closed the hood. Considering he was standing three feet from me and closer to my daughter’s car, I couldn’t say, “Yes, you do.”

  “I’m a businessman too. How much you want to pay for it?”

  “Not a penny more than a hundred thousand. Final offer.”

  I felt like I was on a game show, but this guy wasn’t kidding. Was it worth it? The title was in my company’s name. I’d never sell my Porsche. Wasn’t as though Madison was going to need a car anytime soon. My wife didn’t use her car that much. Rosalee and Madison could share until we got back on our feet.

  Didn’t want to give him time to change his mind. I showed him the title. Extending my hand, I said, “Let’s go to the bank, baby. I’ll have the car detailed and delivered first thing in the morning.”

  “I can polish it myself,” he insisted. “Let’s drive it to the bank. You walk out with the money. I’ll drop you off back here. And I drive off in my Spider.”

  We left the garage and completed our transactions. He dropped me off, as agreed. How could I look Madison in the face after what I’d done? I drove to the office and gave Monica the rest of the day off. All I wanted right now was fellatio.

  When my PA entered my office, I unbuckled, unzipped, and removed my pants and boxers. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. No talking. Just sucking.”

  Reclining on the sofa, I placed my hands behind my head; then I closed my eyes. Feeling her mouth on me, my body tensed. I wanted to shove her head down. Then I felt like pushing her away. I didn’t touch her. What she was doing should have brought pleasure. The more she sucked, the angrier I got.

  I thought, I should be at the hospital.

  “Get up and get out.”

  It wasn’t her fault. Madison wasn’t responsible. I hoped my daughter would understand that I had to leverage her house, but how was I going to explain selling her car? They were material things that would eventually be replaced.

  I cleaned myself off and headed to the hospital. Hopefully, Chicago was there. He could afford to buy Madison a new car, or she could cash in her engagement . . . I paused. Why hadn’t I thought of this before I sold her car?

  Making a U-turn, I called my frat brother, the one I’d leveraged Madison’s house to. “Hey, man. I need to get my daughter’s medical information from her house for her surgery. Can you meet me there with the keys?”

  “Of course, man. Give me an hour,” he said without hesitation.

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Granville

  Nine hundred ninety-eight. Ninety-nine. One thousand.

  My early push-ups were done. I rolled over. Did the same number of sit-ups. Keep this up and I could be on a cover for the sexiest man alive. I never had a gut, but for the first time I had abs that rippled like waves all the way down to those indentations that dipped toward my big dick.

  I checked the posted roster. My name was on it.

  I hated that we had to wear these ugly green uniforms that covered most of our body. Sometimes I’d pretend I was a doctor waiting to operate on a patient.

  Dr. Washington, to emergency. Dr. Washington, you’re needed in the emergency room.

  Make believe was nice but I could never have been a doctor. The tools are too small for my huge hands. Some of my fingers were bigger than some dudes’ dicks. I once finger fucked this woman and she told me, “That felt like the real thing.” She made me feel good. That’s when I realized, if my johnson ever stopped working, I had serious backup.

>   Shower time had become my favorite. I loved seeing myself naked. Stroking my sausage with lots of soap, I got a woody. Had to stop and rinse off. Didn’t want to be late for lineup.

  Wait until I showed Madison all of this. She was going to go wild, rubbing her soft, pretty, little hands all over me. My fantasies weren’t as creative as my cellmate’s. Every night I jacked off to the replay of the one time I had sex with the mother of my unborn child. After I came, surrounded by darkness, I cried.

  Getting dressed, I sang, “ ‘I’m too sexy for myself.’ ” I cracked myself up to keep from getting sad. Prison was a dark place for a man who didn’t deserve to be there.

  I’d learned there were two kinds of inmates in here: the ones who worked out all the time to buff up big-time and had the type of muscles that made men jealous. Then there were the self-proclaimed professors who read everything from the dictionary to the Bible to impress others with their brand-new words and philosophies on life. It didn’t matter what kind of man the man behind bars ended up being. A felon on the street or in jail attracted lonely women like shit did flies.

  The seventeen cents an hour they paid me was an insult compared to what staff got broken off. What I liked was I got to spend time outside my unit working. I got promoted from doing the laundry to being in the kitchen. No more soupy mashed potatoes. The guys enjoyed my cooking. That made me feel good. Since they hadn’t started the culinary classes, I figured in the meantime, I could experiment on these dudes.

  I was standing in line because today was visitation for my unit.

  The guards escorted us from the sixth floor to the first. A few guys had private one-on-one sessions with their lawyers. They sat behind closed doors with large windows. G-double-A entered a room, walking right behind this gorgeous woman, who had long, straight cinnamon hair. All the men noticed her. Since G-double-A was a lawyer, why did he have a private visit? Was she an attorney too? Or was that his way of sneaking a conjugal visit? Continuing my stroll, I thought, “That’s slick dog.” Wish I could do that with Madison.