by Pat Simmons
Lifting her brow, she shrugged so nonchalantly. “Name the date and time and I’ll be there. My only commitment to the church musical is to tweak the set from last year. Then it’s all about you, Mr. Richardson.”
“That’s good to know.” Afterward, I walked her to her car, prayed, and stole a kiss.
On Saturday night, I drove to the Central West End, a pricey area within the city limits. Three-story mansions were a staple in the neighborhood that peaked through century-old trees. We parked in a spot houses away down the block, got out, and started walking until we were at the correct address.
We stared at the titanic structure. Innumerable colored bulbs weighed down the house like a sagging Christmas tree. Mackenzie looked from the “small palace” to me as if going inside may require a second thought.
Her expression was amusing. She pressed her high-glossed lips together in dread.
On cue, God beamed a stream of light from the moon, casting a spotlight on Mackenzie’s face. Or maybe it was the lights radiating from the home’s large double windows—same effect. Tonight, Mackenzie was irresistible festively dressed. The globe-shaped faux-fur hat softened her already sensuous face. Gorgeous.
I guided Mackenzie up three brick-covered stairs to a front porch the size of a back patio. A large, intimidating stained-glass door caused us to freeze in our steps and admire the meticulous placement of holiday ornaments.
A glowing cluster above our heads held us spellbound as the overhead chandelier shook and my chest vibrated from the pulsating sounds coming from the other side of the door.
The crystal teardrops teased us as they jiggled to a steady beat. Mackenzie stepped closer to me, possibly afraid the chandelier would crash any minute.
The door swung open and a crowd dragged us inside. The small get together had grown to a full-scale club-style party. Mackenzie warned me that theatre people were passionate about everything, including celebrating.
Mouths moved all at once. This would’ve been an ideal situation for an interpreter, but not Mackenzie. She ceased being my interpreter after our first date.
I went into defense mode when two body-builders tugged at Mackenzie’s arms before crushing her in a group hug. When they released her, another guy whirled her around for his hug.
That was one hug too many as far as I was concerned, stepping forward. Two women, with drinks in one unsteady hand and forgotten cigarettes in the other, blocked my rescue. Taking turns, they brushed kisses against my cheeks.
“Noel, we won’t stay long,” she mouthed. “I’ve been trying to sign to a few people that you’re deaf, but they’re so drunk, they thought I was playing a game.”
“C’mon.” I grabbed her hand, mumbling, “There has to be someone here celebrating some type of a Christian Christmas.” She squeezed me as strong vibrations shook the soles of my shoes.
The place resembled a museum as we strolled from one lavish room into another, designed as a maze. Fed up with the crowd, we drifted up a wide marble-covered stairwell, following other somber-looking guests. Evidently others were fleeing the subway of party extremists.
Upstairs, we chose a door where another party was underway. The atmosphere didn’t compare to the one downstairs. About thirty people, mostly couples, were bunched on the floor, cushioned by expensive Persian rugs. A fire raged in a towering floor-to-ceiling stone-and-brick fireplace.
Some guests lounged in overstuffed chairs. Few eyes betrayed the center of attention—a trio of women, all dressed in gold. They stood between a table-size machine and large screen, scrolling with words to “O Come All Ye Faithful.”
Enthusiasm beamed from many faces. I looked to Mackenzie, but she shrugged, so we decided to stay for a while. At that moment, she leaned into me, wrapping her arms around me in a hug. I didn’t know the cause, but I enjoyed the effect.
Then all eyes turned to us. Mackenzie mouthed, “They want us to sing ‘Joy to the World.’”
“I can’t sing.”
“Neither can I.” She grinned. “C’mon, let’s have some fun. You’re not scared, are you?” she challenged.
I tugged her to the front. As the words started to scroll, I opened my mouth. I somewhat remembered the melody from childhood. I winked at Mackenzie who laughed and seemed to stumble over her own words.
Many stood and joined us. As the words to “Joy to the World” disappeared from the screen, people clapped. Grabbing Mackenzie’s hand, we bowed. Afterward, she turned to me, clapping as others followed. Lifting my brow in suspicion, I glanced back to the screen.
Sure enough, the “First Noel” began to roll. We quickly began to sing along. We finished as the door opened and a fresh batch of guinea pigs walked in. We made our escape.
After working up an appetite, we found one of several buffet tables. We gorged out on delicacies that I doubted the chefs from the Food Channel would recognize. Yawning, Mackenzie and I tried to find the hosts to say goodbyes. When our attempts failed, we gave up, retrieved our coats, and left.
CHAPTER 15
I almost ran a red light, reading one of Mackenzie’s text messages. It had become routine. I had come to expect them every evening on my way home from work.
They were one-liners until we could email each other later, but they were meant to tease.
Today’s message read: “Noel, did you know your hazel eyes change colors?” Yesterday’s text: “My coat smells like your cologne.” The day before that: “I can’t sign when you wink at me at church.” When we were together, she feigned innocent to provoking my hormones.
Mackenzie had become my focus. I didn’t pray in the morning without including her name. I didn’t jog or lift weights without wondering what she was doing. I logged onto my computer to check my inbox for messages.
Realizing we hadn’t shared a morning scripture, I pulled a pocket Bible out my desk drawer and fumbled through the pages. Pausing in Ephesians, I perused chapters and decided on one that would be inspiring:
Good morning, my favorite and only interpreter of my heart. ‘My brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of His might. Put on the whole armor of God that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. Ephesians 6:10-11.’ Whatever you face today, you’ll make it because you’re wearing God’s protective gear on your feet, chest, loins, and head. Watch out, devil, Mackenzie is armed and dangerous.
Mackenzie replied with another one-liner tease: LOL. Do I look dangerous?
Yeah, I thought, smirking. I imagined her quirky facial expression when she laughed, or smell the subtle, but sweet perfume when she touched my face. I replied: You have no idea, woman. Hey, I know it’s Thursday, but if you don’t have plans after work today that don’t already include me, how about dinner? Regardless of a response, I’ll take that as a ‘Yes, Noel’. I touched send.
Standing, I dressed for work. Before I left my house, I splashed new cologne on my neck, tickling my nose. I couldn’t resist the purchase after sniffing from a vial that was shoved in my face when I had walked through Macy’s a few days ago.
The right blends of spices enticed me to head to the fragrance counter. Without a sales pitch, I purchased a bottle with Mackenzie on my mind, wondering whether she would notice.
Less than an hour later, I hung up my coat in my office. I sat at my desk and extended my legs as I booted my computer for work purposes. The first task was to check my agency’s email accounts.
A major donor, Henry Livingston, was requesting to PRESERVE-St. Louis’s assistance about a proposed eminent domain takeover in one of the most affluent suburbs of St. Louis. It would be the third incident we had played a role in within a year.
Personally, I didn’t see the Livingston & Kindle Co. winning this battle. However, since up to twenty percent of our budget came from private donations, when a request was made that we intervene —even for the ridiculous—I paid attention. After all, we remained a neutral party.
I had my assistant pull every newspaper article on the controversy to see
who made up the opposition team. Then she placed calls to track them down about a possible negotiation.
Soon, I had a pulse on their concerns. The light flashed on my TDD, alerting me to a conference call with the CEO and his director of public relations. I typed, “Hello” and waited for their response.
After their greetings, I explained my position. Mr. Henry and Ms. Overton, as you know, the city of Clayton’s tax base is self-sufficient with major staples of attorneys, doctors’ businesses and residences. Their quaint shops and tasty outdoor eateries highlight the city within a city. I waited for the interpreter to translate my message to my parties over the phone.
Our messages bounced back and forth for thirty minutes. Finally, the interpreter typed Mr. Henry’s last communication: I will get back with you about a date and time that would work into my schedule. I really need PRESERVE-St. Louis to be the liaison to at least get the citizens of Clayton to listen to my lucrative proposal.
I shrugged. The man was facing a losing battle. All right, Mr. Henry and Ms. Overton. In the meantime, I’ll shop a place that would accommodate a large crowd. Goodbye.
When the call ended, my stomach shook with hunger. Once Mackenzie had confirmed our dinner date, I’d run around the corner for a small snack, perhaps a couple of sandwiches and a side salad that was heavy on the meat strips. I signed into my AOL account. I grinned. Four emails were in my box and three were from Mackenzie. Since they were five minutes apart, I started with the first one she sent.
Noel, I think I can allow you to buy me dinner, Mackenzie.
Hmm, I was starting to like my woman sassy. Closing that one, I moved to the second.
I’ve got a taste for the Cheesecake Factory at the Galleria. I’ll pay for dessert, Mackenzie.
Of course, she had to show independence. Maybe for the fun of it, I should order three cakes to take home. I clicked on the final one.
Meet me at the mall entrance, four-thirty sharp! :) Mackenzie.
I smiled. There was still so much I didn’t know about Mackenzie: her passion for the theater stuff, her delusion about going to Chicago, her odd friendship with Valerie, and anything else that described the woman who enchanted me. I replied, See you later, baby.
After signing off, I looked up. Lana was standing in my doorway. I waved her in. She approached and angled a cushioned chair in front of me. When her fingers started, I gave Lana my undivided attention. “Noel, we finally have commitments from three major insurance companies that are willing to participate in the forum on underinsured workers.”
This project was Lana’s baby from the beginning. Grinning, I shared in her jubilation. Besides her other responsibilities, Lana was passionate about seeing that everyone have adequate health coverage. “You are amazing, Lana. You have so much passion.”
“I know.” She returned my smile. “See, I’m not a bad person.”
I reclined in my chair. “Never said you were.”
Tilting her head, Lana stared. “Noel, your eyes are smiling.”
We were volleying compliments. We did this thing from time to time, more as a stress reliever. Now, Mackenzie was becoming my stress regulator. “Yeah, well your hands smile.”
“Noel, you’re talking to me, but it’s not about me, is it?”
I took a deep breath, stalling. I wished I had a stack of folders that beckoned for my attention, and then I could stall. I shook my head. “No.”
“Is it that interpreter from that church?” She frowned, accusatory.
I nodded. “Yes, and I don’t regret going to that church. I acknowledged that I needed Christ, but she was a treasure waiting for me when I got there.”
She frowned. “We’ve been friends for a long time, Noel. If I recall, you’re the one who told me Christ is the same today, tomorrow, and forever. It was something like that, so you already have Christ. You know I’m a good person.” Lana jumped to her feet, upset. She stabbed her fist in her side and waited for my comeback.
“Lana, there is nothing wrong with you.”
“Are you sure?” She squinted.
“Of course, I’m sure, but don’t you wonder sometimes if our good is good enough? I remember hearing our righteousness is like filth.”
Indignant, Lana crossed her arms. “There is nothing filthy about me. I love people.”
“Then you’re a better person than I am because I can still think of some people I wouldn’t mind meeting up in an alley.”
“And church is going to keep you from brawl?”
“For the other person’s sake, you better hope so.”
“Well, I guess I better watch you first to make sure you don’t slip.” Lana dismissed herself.
Lifting my brow, I wondered if that was her reason for coming to my office. Suddenly, she whirled around. “The forum starts at seven at the Bridgeton Community Center. I’ll be there at sixty-thirty to set up the brochures. Are you coming?”
I shook my head. There was no way I’d cancel a dinner date with Mackenzie—no way. I could count on one hand how many community forums I had missed, two. PRESERVE-St. Louis had been my passion.
Now, Mackenzie was. My staff was well informed on all issues we participated in, and they could carry out their duties, which I paid them well to do.
“Then I guess I’ll facilitate the meeting all by my sinful self.”
“Okay.”
***
Pacing the sidewalk outside the Galleria, I checked my wristwatch again. No sign of my 4:30 sharp woman. Mackenzie was more than twenty minutes late. That woman!
Two things I had noted about her. She was punctual for church, for school, but the few times we had met after work because she had banned me from her classroom, she was always late.
When my BlackBerry vibrated, I snatched it off my belt. The message added to my frustration.
Mackenzie: Sorry I’m running late. I’m right around the corner. C u in a few.
That woman! Gritting my teeth, I resumed pacing as I scanned the parking. When I turned around, brown eyes blocked my view. They weren’t Mackenzie’s.
“Excuse me.” I moved to the side and she matched my step. Was the woman flirting? She was attractive, but so were many women. I didn’t focus on her mouth as she spoke.
My mind was on another woman. Where was Mackenzie? Then peering over this bold woman’s head, I spotted Mackenzie strutting across the lot in a manner portrayed by models on a runway.
She was stopping traffic, literally, because she wasn’t watching where she was going. Thank God the drivers were, especially one man behind the wheel of a SUV.
Half-relieved, half-annoyed, I smiled anyway. Focusing on Mackenzie, the woman was forgotten as I walked toward my date. She beamed when she saw me coming. Face-to-face, she grinned. I frowned. She pouted. I laughed.
Tugging her hand, I pulled her closer to me. “You’re late. The next time I invite you to dinner, I’m coming to get you. If you have a problem with that put your complaint in writing,” I said, towering over her.
“Would you like that sent priority or FedEx?” she shot back with a smirk, looping an arm through mine as we walked back to the mall entrance.
“It’s a good thing you’re here. I needed a bodyguard earlier. A stranger tried to pick me up,” I said, rubbing a kiss into her hair.
Swatting my arm, she faced me. She squinted as her lips curled in amusement. “Really? I thought it was normal for a handsome man to get hit on all the time. Are you telling me this is your first time?” Folding her arms, she waited for my reply.
I laughed. There was no way I was answering that. “C’mon woman.”
“FYI, Noel, I won’t fight over a man.”
“You’ll never have to.”
“Let’s go shopping,” she said as soon as we stepped up on the sidewalk in front of the Cheesecake Factory.”
“Can’t, we’re on a waiting list to be seated. That was twenty minutes ago when you were just around the corner. My stomach is drained from worrying about you. Can I ask wh
y you’re so late?”
Unbuttoning her coat, she shrugged. “I had to pick up your gift.”
“Mackenzie!” Granted, Christmas was days away, but we hadn’t discussed exchanging gifts. If we had, I would’ve forbid her from getting me something. She was so unpredictable, and I loved it. I loved her. I held my breath. I said it, didn’t I? Hopefully, not out loud.
Years ago, my brother had broken up with a woman he really cared about, but she dogged him out. That’s when Pierce had warned me, “Noel, love should only be spoken to one woman. When professing it, you had better make sure she is the one.”
Recently, I had been toying with that emotion. Not long ago, prior to meeting Mackenzie, I briefly toyed with the idea of being some woman’s husband, and that woman pledging her life to me.
After just a few weeks, could this be the real deal? Once I said it, I couldn’t take it back. There seemed to be no barriers between Mackenzie and me, but was it love? Did my heart swell?
Yes. I became lonely when Mackenzie and I were apart. I hadn’t realized I was frowning until she pinched my side.
“Did I tell you how handsome you look tonight? Turtlenecks were made for you. Yes, very, very nice, and your hazel eyes were made to fall in love with. Are my compliments working?”
“Working?” Mackenzie had no idea.
“Do you want them to work?” I asked through hooded lashes that allowed me to feast on everything about her.
“Yes.”
“Nope, stop trying to distract me.” She was working a number on me all right, but I wasn’t going to let her know it. “Mackenzie, I didn’t want you buying me anything.”
“What?” She cupped her ear. “I can’t hear you.”
The innocence draping her face could convince me of anything, almost. I had news for her. She wouldn’t win this battle with her buying me gifts. It would be the other way around. I was a man, not some free loader. As I moved my hands, she grabbed them.
“My name is on my bank account and the check book. You were on my mind when I saw it.”
