She would see a smooth, velvety complexion, but remember the years of savage acne that had led to years of unmerciful teasing from her peers. She would see the curvaceous body, and remember the plump little pre-teen who was afraid to wear a bathing suit or even look at a second helping for fear of ridicule. She didn’t see the satiny seduction of her chocolate brown skin; she would see only the little black face that was so much darker than her sisters’. By one of those strange genetic quirks, Renee was the darkest member of her immediate family.
“It’s really stupid, but I can’t forget that color thing. All my sisters are the same shade of medium brown, just like Daddy. My mother is darker, but not as dark as I am, even though she has these same ol’ yellow eyes. Nope, I look just like my grandmother. Not that it’s a bad thing, Big Momma was quite a belle in her day,” Renee admitted.
“But people always made such a big thing out of it! ‘Ooh, Pearlie Mae, where’d you get that little pickaninny from! Chile, you best to keep her out the sun or you won’t find her come dark’,” Renee whined in a perfect imitation of the old ladies she despised in her youth. “I have to tell you, when I was a kid, you could call me anything and I’d fight you, but call me black and I was zoom! in the house with a quickness. For some reason, it was just the most hurtful thing in the world to me. And I was the meanest little girl on Chateau Avenue, too! Nothing bothered me, except being called ‘darky’.
“The family reunions were the very limit. I love my mother’s family, but Lord, it was all I could do to get through that week of examination and comparison. ‘Hmmph, Effie’s child sho’ got some big teeth! Unh, look how bow-legged that girl of Lula’s is! And looky here at little Ree-nay! She just the spittin’ image of Big Momma, ain’t she?’ Renee shuddered delicately at the memory.
“You know, I was in college before I learned that spittin’ image was the colloquial for ‘spirit and image’. That sounds much nicer, don’t you think? And I really am, you know. My grandmother was a pistol, you hear me? Big Momma was known for three things; her temper, her velvety black skin and her absolute refusal to take any mess off anyone, black or white, male or female. And she was a very, very sweet woman who made the best bread pudding you ever put in your mouth.”
Renee sighed, remembering the gracious lady who was the stuff of legend in her part of the South. Her mouth turned up in a faint smile as she recalled her peppery grandmother. Big Momma kicked butt and took names, even in rural Mississippi. Even after Big Poppa had died, leaving her with a farm to run and children to raise, she stayed strong. You wouldn’t catch Big Momma whining over her skin color or how mean people could be, Renee thought shamefacedly. Big Momma was a woman in control of her fate and Renee had inherited that same kind of will. She lived up to her grandmother’s legacy every day, as a matter of fact. But no one knew what she saw in her head when she looked in the mirror.
Renee turned to face Bennie and smiled wanly. “Did I ever tell you about my church obsession when I was a child? I loved to go to church, so much so that I couldn’t wait for the regular service with the rest of the family. There was a little Mennonite church across the street from us. The congregation was all white, of course. When my sisters were scrambling to get dressed to go to our regular A.M.E. service, I would sashay across the street just as big as day and plop myself right down with the rest of the folks,” she said with a short laugh.
Bennie’s eyes grew wide at this revelation, and Renee continued as she slipped on her pantyhose. “These were some very nice, very quiet people and nobody ever said anything to me, they just accepted my presence,” she recalled, shaking her head slightly.
“I would sit there quiet as a little mouse, just watching everything. But I would always look down at my legs sticking straight out on the pew. They were so black! Especially when I’d see the people around me. So black…” Her voice trailed off for a moment, and then she straightened up with a smile.
“Don’t get me wrong, now. I wouldn’t give up one drop of melanin for anything. I love being the blacker berry with the sweeter juice and all that goes with it. But there was a time when it wasn’t a comfortable skin to be in, ya know?”
Bennie grabbed Renee and gave her a big hug. “Oh, darlin’, you’re just gorgeous. You have a perfect complexion, and legs that bring tears to men’s eyes. I’ve observed that very phenomenon, so don’t deny it,” Bennie said truthfully. “And you’re just as beautiful on the inside, although you don’t always let people know that,” she added shrewdly. “I also wish I could wear my hair like yours,” she ended with a wistful sigh.
Renee wore her hair in a short, stylish cut, which framed her chocolate face to perfection. Bennie, on the other hand, was 6’1” to Renee’s 5’10” and she needed long hair to balance her body.
Renee looked in the mirror at Bennie’s comment, admiring her sleek, shiny black hair. “Well, you know I’ve got to show off the latest cuts. How would it look for a salon owner to have a bad hair day?” she asked rhetorically. “And you’re not conning me into cutting your hair,” she added pointedly, looking at Bennie’s abundant locks.
Hastily changing the subject, Bennie admired Renee’s outfit for the evening. Tonight she had decided to give poor Edwin a thrill in an orange mohair dress that was so vibrant in hue that it seemed drenched in gold. The dress not only accentuated every curve; it had a huge cowl neck that slipped invitingly over Renee’s shoulders in a way that was guaranteed to drive a man crazy. It was, in fact, difficult to look at Renee without thinking about something really carnal, quite a paradox given Renee’s cool demeanor. Dispassionately she turned to briefly inspect herself in her full-length mirror and decided that she was almost ready.
Bennie handed Renee a large pair of gold Sandy Baker earrings from her dresser. Renee put them on and added a touch of gloss to her lips that already had on an alluring bronze lipstick. One more tiny dab of perfume behind her ear and she was done with her preparations. There was no sense in giving Edwin a heart attack; she enjoyed his company too much for that.
Bennie glanced at her watch and gasped. “Wow, look at the time. I’m meeting the Brother-Who-Shall-Remain-Nameless for dinner. Have a good time with Edwin. Try not to hurt him,” she added wickedly as she left Renee’s suite. Renee wrinkled her nose at Bennie’s retreating figure and went over to the window to check the weather before deciding on footwear. Spring in Detroit was a vicious affair; one never knew what the elements would do to challenge one. Hearing the slight hiss of sleet, she decided to wear boots. There was no way she was messing up her good pumps in this weather. Besides, her legs looked darned good in the burnished brown designer boots. They had a four-inch heel and fit like silk hose, so she was quite sexy enough, thank you.
After Edwin arrived and helped her don her all-weather coat with the mink lining, he agreed completely. “My dear, you look lovely this evening,” he breathed as he inhaled her unique fragrance. “And you smell fantastic as always,” he added.
Renee favored him with a tiny smile; she didn’t want Edwin thinking that a little compliment like that would get him anywhere.
“Thank you, Edwin,” was all she said, but with her incredible voice, those few words were enough to get ol’ Edwin revved up for the evening. Renee was immediately ashamed of her irreverent thought; Edwin Jackson was a very nice man. He was 6’1”, well educated, soft spoken and gentlemanly. He was quite handsome, too, with medium brown skin and a debonair sprinkling of gray in his close-cropped hair. There was a little gray in his neatly trimmed beard and moustache, which increased his air of distinction. And even though he was in his early 50’s he hadn’t let himself go. He was as trim of waist as a man 20 years younger, and Renee knew for a fact that he had great stamina; Edwin frequently played doubles tennis with her.
After Edwin seated her in his Hummer, Renee observed him closely as he went around the SUV to get in. She continued her scrutiny as he drove. Edwin was a contractor and land developer and had money by the buckets. He was amicably divorced
and his two children had the decency to be adults who were out of college and lived in Texas. So it wasn’t like she’d have to put up with spoiled stepchildren underfoot, ‘baby-mama-drama’ or an alimony income, were she and Edwin to become closer. He was attentive, entertaining and treated Renee with the delicacy normally reserved for a piece of Ming dynasty porcelain. So why didn’t she feel anything more for the man? Edwin was like a pleasant habit and that was all. He was as soothing as a cup of chamomile tea at the end of a harrowing day and about as stimulating. Sometimes Renee wanted to slap herself for being the way that she was. Bennie was too kindhearted to say such a thing, but their mutual friend Ceylon had volunteered her services many times. Renee closed her eyes and could hear Ceylon’s voice in her ear.
“Renee, darling, I don’t mean to be ugly about this, but you’re a contrary wench. There, I said it. The way you treat these poor men is disgraceful and you could use a good smack. And I happen to have a hand right here that isn’t doing anything.”
Renee had to stifle a giggle, recalling the last time she and Ceylon had a go around regarding what Ceylon termed her heartless behavior. Even though Ceylon was mostly kidding, she never failed to point out that Renee was being unfair to her horde of admirers.
“But I don’t lead anyone on,” Renee would argue. “I don’t promise them that I’ll be monogamous, or that our relationship will progress to anything other than what it is. It’s not my fault that they persist,” she would always say.
And it was perfectly true. Renee didn’t encourage men to make fools of themselves over her, but she certainly didn’t discourage their attention as long as it was the variety she favored, like tonight’s date with Edwin. On a damp early spring evening, what could be nicer than theater and dinner? From the look of ardor on Edwin’s face, many things, apparently. After the play Edwin had been making small talk and clearing his throat for some time, indicating that he wanted to say something of great importance. Renee sighed and knew she would have to put the man out of his misery. She knew that another proposal of marriage was in the offing and the thought filled her with unease. Though it was irritating that Edwin kept asking her, she was not without feeling. She would let him down gently as always and gradually the relationship would resume its normal pleasant dimensions. Edwin would continue to wine her, dine her and present her with appropriate floral tributes and baubles and she would continue to allow him to do so.
She glanced at her companion across the table in the intimate and expensive little boite that he had selected for her dining pleasure. Edwin was practically beside himself. Whatever it was he needed to get it off his chest in a hurry. Renee gave him a smile of encouragement, which could have been a mistake. Renee’s smiles were noted for their infrequency and their beauty.
Edwin looked up to see Renee’s loveliness gleaming at him in the candlelight, which was harrowing enough and then she smiled, which made his palms moist. He couldn’t help himself, he blurted out exactly what he was thinking which was never a good idea around Renee.
“Renee, you are so gorgeous. When you smile at me like that, it makes me want to…well, that smile of yours just does things to me,” he said hoarsely.
Renee lowered her eyes and turned down the smile just a notch. There was no point in raising false hope in the poor man. Edwin went on with his declaration.
“Renee, you know that I want to get married again. I’ve made no secret of the fact that I care for you very, very much. I think that we make a good match in terms of our interests and our temperaments. I would certainly do everything in my power to make you happy. I simply can’t conceive of living the rest of my life without a partner, a wife with whom to share my life and to enjoy the finer things in life that I’ve managed to acquire.”
She engrossed herself in tracing the pattern in the damask tablecloth while bracing for the closing argument. Despite her outward calm, she was getting more and more uncomfortable. She didn’t ask for this, damn it, and it wasn’t like she hadn’t made her feelings perfectly plain to Edwin. Why did he persist in flinging himself at her like a doomed moth trying to mate with a light bulb? She tried to pay attention to what he was saying.
“And so, it seems odd, but Muriel and I have been seeing each other for a couple of months now. It was kind of amazing how well we fit together after all this time. I mean, we’ve been divorced for quite a few years now. But I guess the old saying about how you never stop loving your first love is true. And I know that you have no interest in marriage at this time or ever, according to your own words, so…” Edwin had stopped looking anxious and started looking happy, which was contrary to all that Renee knew about the man. Maybe she should have listened more closely when he started speaking.
“Edwin, what exactly are you trying to tell me?” she asked in the precise, measured tone she reserved for people who were about to get royally reamed. Edwin was actually beaming by now.
“My former wife and I are getting remarried,” Edwin said with a big silly smirk on his face. “I proposed last night and she did me the honor of accepting,” he added.
Renee tried to tell herself that the reason for her inability to move had nothing to do with Edwin’s announcement, but she knew better. The old coot! I give him the pleasure of my company and this is how he repays me? This and other savage thoughts raced through Renee’s mind while she tried to compose herself.
Forcing her pretty mouth into a social smile she said, warmly, she hoped, “Congratulations, Edwin. That’s lovely news. And I do appreciate your telling me in person. It would have felt so odd to read it in the papers. You’re so considerate,” she said through a slightly clenched jaw.
Edwin, bless his thick head, didn’t see anything amiss with his behavior. He had a date with Renee and past experience had taught him that to break a date with her was to risk her considerable wrath. She wasn’t the kind of woman to lose her temper, but what she did when she was riled was in many ways much worse. She could put you into a deep freeze with a glance; she was so tough that a man would still feel the chill days later. So he saw nothing wrong with having a last date while announcing his engagement. It seemed perfectly proper to him, which is probably why his first marriage ended in divorce.
They quickly left the restaurant and drove to Indian Village in what Edwin mistakenly believed was a companionable silence. It wasn’t until he walked her to the door that he realized something was amiss. Renee turned to him with a variation of expression that he had never seen on her face before. It was a combination siren and succubus, guaranteed to drive a man to the fiery brink of desire.
“Once again Edwin, congratulations on your engagement,” she purred. “I hope you’ll be very, very happy.” And before he could respond, Renee grabbed him by the lapels and laid a kiss on him like nothing he had ever experienced in his life, certainly not with Renee. No, it wasn’t one of her patented lip pecks; this was a long, sensual, French kiss of the most erotic variety. It was over much too abruptly as Renee suddenly pulled away, leaving him breathless and wanting.
“Goodbye, Edwin.” was all she said before slipping in the door.
Chapter Two
No sooner had the door closed behind her than Renee was consumed with guilt. Why did I do that? That was just so sick and wrong! she berated herself. Aretha, Bennie’s huge black longhaired cat, seemed to agree with her. She sat on the stairs in the boxy shape that cats employ when they’re observing humans. She always seemed to sense when someone was up to something. Renee wasn’t known as a cat lover, but she and Aretha were drawn to one another. When the two of them were alone, Renee talked to her like she was a person. Aretha always understood her, even if no one else did. Renee hung her coat in the hall closet while she cursed herself in French. Then she turned to the cat which was waiting patiently for Renee to unburden herself.
“Well, if you’re looking for an explanation, I can’t give you one,” Renee admitted as she picked Aretha up and carried her up to her suite of rooms on the third floor of the hou
se. “Edwin, you remember him, the one with the beard, is a perfectly nice man. I just don’t happen to be terribly interested in him. He’s a wonderful dining companion, but I don’t have any kind of abiding passion for him at all.” She sat Aretha on the bed and began to undress. She removed her dress, shook it out carefully and hung it on one of the thickly padded hangers that she used to pamper her expensive clothes.
She took off her earrings and underwear, talking to Aretha all the while. “Well, he’s getting married, thank you very much, and to his ex-wife, of all people. We’re at dinner and he makes this garbled announcement and for some unknown and unknowable reason, I get this wave of…of…I don’t know what the hell it was, to be honest. All I know is I was feeling much more than I should about the situation.”
“About what situation?”
Bennie’s voice floated in from her sitting room. Renee jumped guiltily and called out to her that she would be right out.
Renee slipped an expensive silk nightgown over her head and went into the bathroom to remove her makeup. She opened the door to the medicine cabinet and glanced at her daily affirmation, which she had put out of view—some things were too private to explain. In her neat block printing was the legend “I Am the Prize”. Renee sniffed inelegantly as she looked at it, and mumbled, “Damned right, I am.”
She went into the sitting room and joined Bennie, who had made herself right at home with a tea tray containing a pot of Lapsang Souchong tea and some Pepperidge Farm Bordeaux cookies, both of which were Renee’s favorites. She was appreciative of the gesture, less so of the fact that Bennie went right back to her question like a bird dog.
“What situation were you talking about?” she asked mildly as she poured the tea.
“I don’t suppose if I told you it was between Aretha and me it would do any good, would it?” Renee parried.
Until the End of Time Page 2
