Darius smiled as he read the note:
Meet me in the room at the end of the north hallway. I’ve got what you need.
Your Biggest Fan
Darius refolded the note and put it in his pocket. Bo knew how to get him turned on. It had become a regular game of theirs to make love in strange homes, and parties were a favorite. He took a few bites from the plate of food he’d made, washed it down with a glass of pinot noir, and then set out to find the north hall.
It wasn’t too hard to find. Darius passed three other doors before he lightly tapped on the door at the end of the hall, opened it, and went inside. It was dark, but with the aid of the moonlight and the pool lights beyond the house, he could make out a four-poster bed with someone, apparently naked, lying in it.
“Bo,” he called out.
The figure shifted. Darius smiled. He began stripping off his clothes as he crossed the room. Once he got to the bed, he crawled onto it.
“Hey, baby.”
“Hey, Darius. I’ve been waiting for you.”
WTF? Darius jumped off the bed. “Who is this?”
“Darius, it’s okay. It’s me, Melody. Don’t be scared.”
Darius began dressing at a furious pace. “Melody, what are you doing out at this time of night? Does your mother know where you are?”
Why does everyone keep treating me like I’m a kid! Melody ignored Darius’s question and adopted the most adult, come-hither voice she’d ever heard in a video. “Come here, baby. I’ve got something for you.”
“Yeah, and I’ve got something for you. Go home, Melody. Before you get hurt!”
Darius fumbled his way to the door and slammed it behind him.
Melody lay naked, totally still, on the bed. She allowed herself to feel the softness of the silk comforter beneath her as sounds of music and conversation drifted underneath the door.
This is it. This is where I want to be, she thought as she rubbed the comforter between her legs. She was in the multimillion dollar home of a record exec, an exclusive party with some of the biggest headliners in the game.
“I’m so close,” she whispered into the darkness. And she’d promised herself that tonight would be the night. Melody lay there, daydreaming.
Just then she heard a click as the door opened. Once again the man on her mind entered and stood just inside the room for a long moment before he began stripping out of his clothes. Once naked, he walked slowly toward the bed.
Melody could not believe her good fortune. She dared to blink, lest the vision dissipate once her eyes were closed. But she did close them and opened them quickly. The vision was still there and coming closer. Once he was right beside the bed, he cuddled his large manhood.
“Is this what you want?” he asked.
After a moment she answered. “Yes.”
Their conversation was brief because before too much time had passed she’d done as she’d been instructed, and as she’d seen in the videos Natasha had stolen from her uncle’s house. She reached out, enveloped his shaft in her hand, and pleasured him.
45
Nothin’ Nice
“Look at him, look at little D,” Bo exclaimed as his husband’s son bobbed his entire body to the music. “Go, D, go, D,” Bo exclaimed as he danced around little Darius, who, like Whitney, wanted to dance with somebody.
“Baby, he’s looking more like you every day,” Bo said. He scooped up his “nephew” and joined Darius in the kitchen. “I still can’t get over you trying to cook for me.”
“It’s about time, wouldn’t you say? You are undeniably the one who can throw down in the kitchen. But you’re always serving me. I just want to pamper you for a change.”
Bo walked over and kissed Darius on the cheek. “Careful, boo, I just might get used to this.”
A little while later the three men, one in a high chair, sat at the kitchen’s breakfast nook enjoying brunch. For a beginner, Bo conceded Darius hadn’t done half bad even though the hash browns were from a package and the waffles from a box. The bacon was nice and crispy, and the eggs were fluffy, made just the way Bo had instructed. The scene was a picture of domestic bliss.
“Baby, I still can’t believe that wench tried to seduce you last night. You know what this means, don’t you?”
Darius nodded. “Yes. I’ve already decided to replace her as head of the fan club. If she acts crazy, as I suspect she will, I’ll just have you start another one and get an official MySpace page.
“You kept telling me that girl was just trying to get me in her panties. And once again, I didn’t listen. It just seemed crazy to think the daughter of the sanctimonious Andersons would be so scandalous!”
“I don’t know why you’re surprised. Those sheltered kids are the worst ones. Parents think they’re doing their child a favor by not discussing the birds and the bees. And next thing they know the kid has flown the coop and ended up making a nest in some man’s bedroom. And it sounds like she did more than that.”
Darius didn’t respond. He and Bo shared almost everything, but he didn’t feel like having a fight this morning. And if he told Bo the whole story, that’s exactly what would happen—that and that Bo would drive over to the Andersons’ house and confront Melody himself. No, best to just cut the situation off before it got worse. Darius already had a call in to Vivian. He would let her know he was through with Darius’s Crew, and then hopefully Melody would find another fixation.
“Baby, what about us taking little D to Disneyland?”
“I don’t know, Bo, it might be crowded on a holiday.”
“When did a crowd ever stop you? Come on, let’s go have fun. Maybe you can even call Spacey and see if she wants to go. Since she has finally decided to come around and act like she’s got some sense … I might actually start to like her again.”
Melody opened her front door and then closed it quietly behind her. She peeked around the corner to see if anyone was in the living room. Breathing a sigh of relief, she walked toward the stairway. It looked like the coast was clear.
“Melody Elizabeth! Get in here, and I mean right now!” Mrs. Anderson’s loud voice could have woken the dead.
“I, uh, I gotta use the bathroom, Mama,” Melody cried, determined to get to her room before her mother could see her.
Mrs. Anderson came barreling fast as lightning around the corner, which at five-foot-six and two hundred fifty pounds, wasn’t the easiest thing to do.
She grabbed Melody’s arm, huffing and puffing to regain her breath. After a couple deep inhales and exhales, she spoke, slowly and carefully, as if she were talking to a mentally challenged child.
“Where have you been?”
“What do you mean where? Over at Natasha’s!”
Mrs. Anderson squeezed harder. “Girl, don’t lie to me and don’t make me have to beat the truth out of you. You wasn’t over to Natasha’s this morning, and you didn’t go over there last night. Now you got about two seconds to tell me where you were!”
“Mama, I was! Did you talk to Natasha? We stopped by her house and then we went over to Danielle’s. You can call and ask her!”
“I don’t have to call no-datgum-body. You lied to me!”
“Mama, I—”
“Mama, I nothing. Just get on up those stairs and stay in your room until your father gets back here. You are getting ready to be dealt with, young lady, and it ain’t gonna be nothing nice!”
Melody stood at the bottom of the stairs waiting for her mother to turn to leave. Mrs. Anderson stood staring at Melody, wondering what was taking so long for her order to be obeyed.
“I’m not going to tell you again, Melody.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Melody uttered in a childlike whisper. For someone always trying to act grown, Melody could have easily passed for about two right now.
Mrs. Anderson planted her legs apart, crossed her arms, and waited for orders to be obeyed.
“Dang, Mama, are you going to stand there and watch me take every step?”
Melody thought her old-fogy mother was stuck on stupid, but Mrs. Anderson had enough smart for the both of them. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Now get moving!”
Melody knew she had no choice but to climb the stairs with her mother watching. She took a deep breath and climbed the stairs one at a time, trying to keep her legs together and to ignore the throbbing going on between them.
“What is wrong with you, Melody?” her mother asked.
“Nothing!” Melody shrilled.
“Girl, who are you hollering at?” Mrs. Anderson demanded. “And why are you taking the stairs like you can barely walk?”
“It’s nothing, Mama,” Melody answered. “I just hurt my leg dancing over at Natasha’s.”
“I thought you were at Danielle’s.”
Mrs. Anderson’s eyes narrowed as she continued to watch her daughter climb the stairs. Something definitely was not right. She was just about to walk away when something caught her eye as Melody took the last step.
“Melody Elizabeth, get back down here! Is that blood on your clothes?”
46
There Is a God
Conversation had been stilted at first, especially after orders had been taken and casual conversation about menu options had ended. In the ensuing silence, Hope wondered if she’d done the right thing accepting Millicent’s dinner invitation. They’d decided to meet at a restaurant instead of at the Kirtz home, which helped, but now that they were here, she wasn’t so sure this was a good idea.
Cy and Jack talked easily about church, Darfur, real estate, sports. Millicent and Hope made small talk about the restaurant decor, each other’s clothes, the weather. But after dining on the first course and waiting for the second to be served, Cy took the proverbial bull by the horns.
“I think we all know why we’re sitting here, and it’s way past time we had this conversation. Millicent, Jack, thanks for the invitation. Hopefully after tonight we can truly put the past behind us.”
“I really want that,” Millicent said. “Sure, there’s a lot of unhealthy history between us, and while we may never become the best of friends, it would be great if a certain amount of civility—cordiality, even—could exist between us.” She looked at Hope but said nothing more.
“There are some things that aren’t my business but that I’d like to know,” Hope said after a lull. “I think the more we leave this table tonight with all questions answered and curiosities assuaged, the easier it will be for us to truly move forward.”
“I agree with that,” Jack said, placing his hand over Millicent’s. “Don’t you, honey?”
“Absolutely. Hope, ask whatever you want.”
Hope glanced at Cy and then continued. “It’s about when we saw you in Mexico. Cy believes you and Jack went there together, but I’m convinced you were there for Cy. Which of us is right?”
“You both are,” Millicent responded. She then told Hope the same story she’d told Cy, and Carla when she’d appeared on television. “Jack and I never meant to become intimate in Mexico,” she finished. “It just happened. It was right after we’d finished a conference at our church, one for a young women’s group called Divas of Destiny. Ironically, their first conference centered around remaining chaste until blessed with a God-sent mate. And then we found ourselves together in the Caribbean, and, honestly, a sacred connection was made even before intercourse happened. The next day we talked about the irony of it all and how hypocritical it would look for us to carry on a relationship, even secretly, having called on the young women of the church to make a vow before God.
“If you ask me, I think Jack had planned it all along. He always wanted me.” Millicent laughed to show she was partially kidding. “But by then he didn’t have to work too hard. I’d fallen in love. We found an official on the island and got married right there in the hotel garden. It was spontaneous and romantic and the best snap decision I’ve ever made in my whole life.”
“But you still loved Cy then. How could you be so sure it was love when you’d flown down there to be with another man?”
Millicent was given a moment’s reprieve while the soup was served. Hope’s questions were tough but justified. They caused Millicent to ask herself some very tough questions, ones she had no intention of sharing with anyone at the table.
“It was how Jack loved me that made me fall in love with him, Hope. He kept coming back when I pushed him away, refused to believe I had no love left. He saw me at my worst, chasing a married man, and he still loved me. Yes, I flew to Mexico to be with Cy, but God orchestrated the trip so I could marry Jack.”
“So there’s no doubt, you love Jack. You’re in love with your husband, not mine.”
“Hope …”
“No, Cy, it’s okay.” Looking at Jack, Millicent answered Hope. “I love and am in love with Timothy Jackson Kirtz. There is no other man for me, and there never will be.”
Hope witnessed the way Millicent looked at Jack and truly relaxed for the first time all night. Maybe it was true, that she’d been tripping all along and the long chase by Millicent for Cy was really over.
Millicent put down her spoon and leaned back. “Now may I ask you something? Is that why you drove down here the other day? Because you thought I still loved your husband?”
“Obviously.”
“There was no other reason? I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry. I just got the feeling there was something else going on with you.”
Cy and Hope looked at each other. “Do you want to tell them, baby?” Cy asked.
Hope nodded.
“We’re pregnant.” Anyone watching closely would have sworn Cy’s chest grew. “Saying I was hormonal that day would be a gross understatement,” Hope added. “And while it in no way excuses my behavior, at least I have reason to believe my insanity will be over in nine months.”
Now it was Millicent and Jack’s turn to look at each other.
“No,” Millicent said as her eyes twinkled. “You haven’t seen crazy until you start raising a child.”
As the couples enjoyed their third, fourth, and fifth courses, a miracle happened. The Kirtzes and Taylors enjoyed an evening they never thought they’d experience, one that was both civil and cordial. Indeed, Hope thought as they headed back to Los Angeles. There is a God.
47
Come Over
“Everything’s going to be all right, Stacy.” Frieda hugged her friend before Stacy followed the nurse through the double doors. “Remember, we’re right here. It’ll be over before you know it.”
Stacy tried to remain calm as she waved at her mom and then followed the nurse into the room where the lumpectomy would be performed. One would have thought she would have been perfectly fine, with all the prayers that had gone up the previous week on her behalf. Her mother had an Internet prayer circle going that stretched across continents, and Pastor Derrick and Vivian had made a personal stop by her house to pray the previous night. Even Darius had called to let her know he was praying for her. If prayer indeed worked, she had absolutely nothing to worry about.
The door opened, and Stacy turned to see the doctor who would be performing the procedure. Her eyebrows shot up when it was Dr. Livingston who came through the door.
“Surprised to see me?”
“Actually, yes. They told me you’d been called away on an emergency and another doctor would be performing this procedure.”
“Another doctor became available to perform that surgery. So here I am. Hope you’re not too disappointed.”
“I’m grateful. I’m sure all the physicians are competent, but you’ve been here since the beginning. I trust you.”
“Very well then. Let’s begin.”
Later that night, Stacy lay recuperating in her living room. Her mother had brought over a pot of beef stew and a key lime pie, Bo had fixed chicken and dumplings and homemade muffins, and Tony had had a gourmet pizza sent over. There was enough food to survive an earthquake. Stacy was grateful and tired.
> “I think I’ll go up and lie down a while,” she told her mother after she’d eaten some of the stew and a slice of pie.
“Call me later,” her mother said. “I want to hear from you before I go to bed tonight.”
“I’ll call. Promise.”
Stacy kissed Mrs. Gray on the cheek, gingerly hugged her brother, and walked upstairs. Minutes later, Frieda followed.
“Can I get you anything? Water, juice, some Tanqueray with lime?”
“You know you’re trippin’. I told you I don’t drink anymore.”
“Didn’t Jesus turn water to wine? Don’t you think if the man had a problem with alcohol he would have zapped it into grape juice?”
“It probably was grape juice and the translators got it wrong.”
“Girl, now you messing with Jesus’s miracle. You must be tired.” Frieda helped Stacy get into bed and then sat on the side. “I see you’ve been holding out on your friend.”
“What?”
“You didn’t tell me about that fine doctor who’s been stroking your titties.”
“Dr. Livingston? You think he’s cute?”
“In a light-skinned, Urkel sort of way. Plus, he’s a doctor. Enough zeros in the bank account makes anybody look fine. Just look at Eddie Murphy and Chris Rock.”
“Don’t even go there, Frieda.”
“What? You know they ass was tore up before they got paid!”
“That statement is wrong on all seven continents.”
“It might be wrong, but is it true?”
“Frieda, leave me alone so I can sleep.”
“But about the doctor. Is he married?”
“How am I supposed to know? This may surprise you, but I had other things on my mind besides his marital status. Like my life!”
“Haven’t you hung around me long enough to know you can’t ever take your eye off the prize? You slippin’, sistah, you really are slippin’. If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs.”
When Stacy awoke, the morning sun was streaming through her window. She struggled to a sitting position and looked at the clock. It was a little after seven. She couldn’t believe she’d slept all night and so peacefully.
Heaven Right Here Page 18
