Claudia shrugged her shoulders as if her mother had asked who put the empty juice carton back in the fridge. Kevin knew that shrug. It was the same shrug she’d given when she’d taken his credit card to get her nails done but ended up also buying $500 worth of items she didn’t need. A great deal of her behavior contributed to their constant breakups. He didn’t love Claudia if he were to be honest. He loved the idea of what she represented. The perfect look, fun to party with, but never the woman he would take home to his parents. She lacked a moral compass.
“Claudia, you didn’t call him, did you? Please tell me you didn’t leave this man at the altar waiting for you,” Kevin asked.
“I can’t be in two places at once, Kevin! Jeez!”
“I don’t believe you sometimes,” he said, diving into the water and swimming away. As sexy as he was, and as good of a lay as the man could be, his conflict resolution skills were sorely lacking, a little thing which irked her about him to no end.
There were entirely too many Kevins and Evans in the world. What she craved was something totally different. Daring. Dashing and a bit devilish. Across the pool, she spotted a man whom she recognized. Acrylic covered fingers waved at him as her hand-dipped in the water, applying light strokes to move her closer to the stairs. She allowed her legs to gape open as she slid off the raft and the water slapped against her bronzer covered skin, just below the generous C-cups as the buds tightened. Gentle hips swayed as she climbed the stairs, the dark shades covering her eyes as she walked toward the man, getting close enough, yet walking past him as if she didn’t know who he was or why he was here in Cabo.
“Kevin!” she called behind her lover, trying to catch him. Tonight, he had promised her a seafood meal at the best restaurant in town. She would hold him to his promise, even though she didn’t do the same for Evan. “He’ll be fine.”
She knew the stakes and had vowed to be the woman at his side, but the stakes had changed, and so had her mind. There was more than one way to get the things she wanted in life, and it didn’t mean marrying some yokel from New England. As far as she was concerned, the land could go back to Old England and no one would miss it.
“Kevin, dammit, wait for me,” she cried out, angry that he’d once again, walked away from her, not understanding fully the things she needed to have a better life.
That Coraline woman in New York understood wanting better. Claudia could do better than Evan Eaton and she planned to, no matter how much work it took. She wasn’t meant for a life as the wife of a small-town man who issued fishing licenses and car tag stickers. He just wasn’t the man for her. Secretly, she knew Coraline understood that about her. Or at least she should have.
NEW YORK, 4:35 PM
Coraline Newair, the owner of Perfect Match Agency in New York, had a tingling sensation bubbling in her belly. She had this feeling once before, a few years back with a mail-order bride that went to Alaska. All the planning for the couple went to shit in a laundry basket full of streaked underpants. Poor Amanda Perkins went all that way to be connected with a loser who tried to abuse her and he ended up getting eaten by a bear. That same exact feeling of wrongness accompanied her now.
She checked the schedule. Kevia Caplan and Brecklin Murphy had tied the knot, after a rocky start and road trip to rival that of the cross-country drive of Cabrina Roberts and Gabriel Neary. The latest groom, Evan Eaton, was a hard sell. He lived in a small town in New Hampshire, and it had taken nearly two years to get a bite on his hook. It wasn’t as if he was a bad-looking guy. However, he didn’t possess the standard bag of sweet treats that drew the bees to the honey. The cabin wasn’t too small, but the furniture was sparse, and he didn’t have any real money per se. In her estimation, that shouldn’t have been a deal-breaker, but the man also had an odd sense of humor and read as somewhat asexual. Mail-order bride or not, a lady wanted to be married to a man who could rock the bed a bit. Coraline wasn’t sure Evan could rock a boat if he were standing inside the canoe, but once or twice she’d been wrong.
Today was the date Evan emphasized in his contract to be the end final point of his journey to become a husband. His bride-to-be, a wily woman with a plan of her own deep down, matched his requirements perfectly. For the past year, the two corresponded. Claudia Tacket was a gold digger with a tiny vision. Evan Eaton was ultimately the opposite, a man with a strong sense of self and his place in the world. Ideally, the couple would complement each other, providing balance to both of their lives.
Everything was out of balance. The sour taste from her belly climbed its way up her throat. Acid-filled her mouth as she looked around for her phone. Something was wrong. She needed to call Evan Eaton.
Coraline’s phone rang, jolting her from her current state of uneasiness. Picking up the office line, she swallowed hard, answering in an attempt to sound calmer than she felt. “Perfect Match, this is Coraline,” she said.
“Ms. Newair, Evan Eaton,” the voice said. “My bride didn’t show up, and I’m calling to request a refund from your service plus any interest accumulated for the past two years on the payment made.”
“Mr. Eaton, you say your bride never showed up?”
“That’s correct. The deadline passed and no wife. Claudia Tacket didn’t even bother to make a phone call to tell me she wasn’t coming,” Evan added. “I look forward to receiving a full refund plus interest.”
“I can make that happen,” Coraline replied. “I’m so sorry that this occurred. It is very uncommon that brides don’t show up. I need to ensure that Ms. Tacket hasn’t been injured which prevented her from coming to New Hampshire, but yes, I will make sure you get a full refund plus interest.”
“Thank you. Have a nice evening,” Evan said, hanging up the phone and swallowing hard. Some things needed to be told to his new wife, plus he wanted to get dinner started. His stomach growled loudly, and she offered him a knowing smile.
“Sounds like you’re hungry,” Leta said, standing up. Initially she was ready to have a wedding night tonight, but there was a buzz between them that needed careful tending. Running headfirst into the swarm could prove detrimental and make the relationship fizzle before it had time to work up a froth.
For the first time in many years, Evan Eaton found himself actually hungry for more than food. Never had he considered the possibility of marrying outside of his race, simply because there were very few opportunities to meet and interact with anyone outside of the community and state of New Hampshire.
“Please don’t be a crazy person,” he said more loudly than he intended.
“At first, I kinda felt I was losing my mind for doing this, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense,” Leta said. “Dating is a nightmare. Men don’t want to commit or already have children. To find a man without kids, who has a stable job and a home and wants a family, you’re like a diamond in the middle of a pile of zircons. I just hope you’re not crazy as well.”
“Me, a diamond?”
“Yes, you, but I do have a request,” Leta said.
“I’m listening.”
“I want to fall in love with you, so if you don’t mind, can you, or are you willing to, court me? I mean, like can you bring your Big Daddy bag loaded full of Swag, make a bish swoon, player pimping game,” Leta said, blushing.
“No, because I have no idea what you just said,” he responded, crinkling his brow.
“Evan, I want to sleep in the spare bedroom,” she said softly. “Yes, I know I’m legally your wife, but it would be so nice for you to woo me. I want you to make me fall in love with you. I want the flowers, long walks, and kissing on the front porch under the moonlight type of things. It would be sweet to be the head cheerleader and have the star quarterback pull out all his fancy moves to win my heart.”
“I copy, but...,” he said, moving to the kitchen, thinking he never had an A-game to begin with, so he couldn’t materialize one now, “...If I’m going to do all of that to win your heart and make you fall in love with me, what a
re you going to do to make me fall in love with you?”
“Don’t worry, baby. I got game to spare,” Leta said with a wink. “I’m going to bring it.”
“Hmpf, then the game is afoot?”
“Let the fun begin,” she said, dragging a suitcase to the spare bedroom. “Let me set this down and I’ll lend a hand with dinner. I’m starved.”
LETA LOCATED TWO CANDLES in the cabinet and pulled a flowered tablecloth from the large suitcase. The good dishes were in her household shipment, but she would make do tonight with a wedding dinner on the two white plates Evan owned. A crisp green salad loaded with fresh-cut veggies went into the matching white bowls, and the two coordinating cloths napkins she had brought with her were laid under the cheap, bent metal forks and steak knives.
“The table looks nice,” Evan complimented.
“Those steaks look even better,” she said. “I hate to ask, but do you have any steak sauce?”
“You wound me, Leta. These steaks are perfect and the only thing required is that knife and fork and a very happy tongue,” he said, watching the face which would care for his future children. The soft ebony skin tone, the expressive brown eyes, and the beautiful lips which he looked forward to kissing good night before they went to bed gave him new hope.
“I’m going to take your word for it,” she told him.
Evan cleared his throat as he walked around the table and pulled out her seat. He wasn’t that rusty at being a gentleman although his romance game needed a bit of work. The chair slid forward until it hit the back of her knees, and as she lowered her bottom, he let go. Inside of him, the man woke up, his chest puffed out as he strolled, as calm as he could muster for a 43-year-old man, around the table and took his seat. The wine had been allowed to breathe and he poured just enough in her glass to let her sip, swirl and permit the full-bodied feel of the wine to saturate her taste buds.
“I approve,” Leta offered, holding out her glass for more wine. Evan poured the cabernet into his glass, half watching the glass, half watching his wife.
“Leta, I’m not a religious man although I’m a firm believer in a higher power, but I would like to say, for this I am grateful,” Evan said.
“For all that we have before us, we give thanks,” she said, raising her glass for a clink of celebration.
Evan sat waiting patiently for her to cut into the steak and sample his cooking. The sliver of beef dangled from her fork as she slid the meat in between the lovely lips which were driving him to distraction. He also appreciated the large white teeth that lit up her face when she smiled.
A black woman.
I’m married to a black woman.
In all of his days, he’d never imagined such a thing happening to him, or even found a woman of color to be attractive, but Leta was setting off all kinds of bells and whistles and making him want things he’d long since given up the desire to have. He replayed all of her words in his head, stopping and starting the film to capture moments of things she’d told him in the short period. Discomfort hit when he remembered she said she had a job interview next week.
“Leta, where is the job interview you said you had next week?”
“In Manchester,” she said, adding a compliment to the chef on the steaks.
“May I ask where you are from again?”
“Georgia, the Atlanta metro area.”
Evan mulled it over in his head, hoping what he was about to say wouldn’t be taken the wrong way. Moreover, he really needed her to understand his concerns were from a place of caring, not a man trying to control his woman. He nearly chuckled at the thought of him having ‘a woman,’ let alone a wife.
“I recall a few years back when a winter storm came through Atlanta, and all the cars were left on the interstate down there like a scene from one of those post-apocalyptic movies,” he said. “Are you familiar with driving in the snow?’
“No, not really,” she said looking up at him and wondering where he was going with the conversation.
“Snow starts to fall here early and continues for nearly six months. Manchester is an hour away, which means two hours per day commuting to work on icy roads,” he said.
“Commuting is no problem, especially if the pay is good,” Leta said.
“Personally, I wouldn’t feel comfortable with you doing that,” he said, “and please don’t take this the wrong way, but once we conceive our first child, I would prefer you to be a stay at home mom. I mean, there are childcare providers here, but if there is no real need for you to work, then I have no issue with you staying home.”
“Man, I would be feral in less than two weeks being locked in this house every day waiting for you to come home,” she said. “I need more human interaction than a drooling poop maker. You don’t even have a tv. Do you have Wi-Fi?”
Evan wanted to speak but found himself laughing, a sound foreign to his ears, but joyful to his heart. Thus far, he liked his new wife.
“I have a tv in the bedroom,” he said. “I have the internet on the main computer in the office, but we can easily expand it to have Wi-Fi which encompasses the house. Besides, we must break ground as soon as possible to get the additions started. That should keep you busy for at least three months, and hopefully by then...”
“By then what? You’ve wooed me out of my pants, and we’ll have made a baby?”
“Your words, not mine, Leta.”
“Is that your plan, Evan Eaton, to woo me out of my pants?”
“I’m going to...how did you say it? Big Daddy is going to bring his swagger,” Evan said, laughing again at himself this time.
“You learn fast, Big Daddy,” Leta said, blushing. “Yes sir, Big Daddy learns really quickly.”
“That is an understatement,” Evan said, pausing to cut into his steak. “After dinner, we can do the dishes, and I was wondering, would you like to join me on the front porch to watch the sunset?”
“I’d like that,” she replied, blushing a bit. “Do we have a dessert to go with this wedding night meal?”
“Of course. I have vanilla ice cream, with chopped nuts, whipped cream with maple syrup, and cider donuts,” he said, licking his lips.
“Dessert is maple sundaes and cider donuts? That doesn’t really sound like a good replacement for a wedding cake,” she said with her nose slightly upturned.
“Trust me, you’re going to love it,” he said with certainty. “You are going to love them both.”
Chapter Four- Geniality
The lack of curtains in the bedroom allowed a rude and intrusive sun to barge into the sleeping space, shining brightly on the bed and forcing Leta’s eyes open. Seeing no valid reason to remain in bed, she rose, stretching to her full five-foot seven-length, yawning like an overfed, lazy cat, privately regretting the chunk of beef she’d eaten for dinner. Her past relationships had taught a valuable lesson: when a man wants to cook dinner, eat that shit.
In previous relationships, although there were few, the men in her life were, in essence, overgrown men-children with overactive libidos. She enjoyed sex as much as the next woman, but a relationship had to be based on more than just the physical. A man deciding to cook dinner for a first date was a plus. Cooking dinner on their wedding night meant that man was a keeper.
Sliding into her favorite pair of female superhero slippers, she padded down the hall to the bathroom. It was functional. The bathroom had a sink, toilet, and shower, but no tub. The new bathroom would have a bathtub. Kids needed to take baths with floaty toys and objects that squirted water while they soaked off the grime from sweaty little bodies. She also enjoyed a good soak with a bath fizzy that turned the water pretty colors.
Leta made quick work of her morning routine. After locating a towel and washcloth in the open-faced cabinet, Leta started the shower. In the shower, Evan had a bar of soap, which would be entirely too harsh for her skin. Softly walking back to the bedroom, she grabbed her travel case. Happy with her own soap, she stripped down, washing quickly and rinsing h
er body. Briskly toweling her body dry, Leta wrapped in the large soft cotton towel, eased her way to the bedroom. She dressed in a pair of jeans with a soft feminine top, pinned her hair to the top of her head, and went searching for coffee.
Almost feeling the need to hum, she stopped herself as she added grounds to the cache and water in the hopper, and then searched the cabinets. Locating flour, eggs, ginger, and a bit of baking powder, she whipped up a quick batch of batter for gingerbread cupcakes. She peered out the window over the sink, and the sight of the lake called to her, so she set the timer on the oven and headed outside. The gentle breeze of a June morning welcomed her with open arms. Walking down the dirt drive past the rental car, Leta arrived at the dock where she took a seat at the edge of the platform. One foot tested the water, swaying back and forth in the lake, while she leaned back on her elbows, thinking of last night.
Evan understood the request to be courted, versus claiming his rights last night as a husband. Initially, she’d wanted to be paired up on the first night, but upon the discovery, by his own admission that he’d never been with a black woman, she had thought it best to ease the man into all of her sexiness. She didn’t want to break him on the first night, although he was a load of a man with tons of muscles and a chest that screamed for her to beat on it when she found her pleasure.
“All Tarzan and Jane and shit,” she said, fixing her mouth to make the trademark call of the vine-swinging hero. However, her attempts to replicate the well-known call of the jungle sounded more like she’d swallowed a bug and was trying to spit it out. “Whatever! Husband Man still thinks I’m sexy. He was trying with the wine, but he doesn’t know it will take nearly the whole damned bottle to loosen the rubber on these panties, but I see you. I see you, Evan. I see you, Big Daddy.”
The two additional glasses of wine, plus the bottle, were brought to the front porch where they sat in a comfortable silence watching the sun set. He didn’t ask her a bunch of questions about why she had left her life to come to start a new one with him. She was here and they had time. The gentle kiss he provided as he escorted her to the bedroom door was just enough to leave her wanting without being over the top in his need to produce a child. Leta knew all about what he needed. What was unclear to Evan was the thing which had brought his wife nearly sixteen hundred miles away from everything she knew and loved.
Maple Sundaes & CIder Donuts Page 3
