Painted Passion

by Latisha Brandon

  “Last night. Let me go, you’re hugging me too tight.” Dawn snickered.

  Ashlyn held the door open for her. “Come in and tell me everything.”

  “Well, I saw your folks, and they’re doing great, as usual, but still complaining about you not coming home enough.” Dawn sat on a prairie stool pulled up to the recycled glass, arctic moss countertops. “Your dad told me to give his little girl a kiss.”

  “They still refuse to cut the cord, but they mean well. How are Uncle Thomas and Aunt Lynn?” Dawn’s father and Ashlyn’s mother were brother and sister. Dawn’s father, Thomas Spencer, was a judge for the federal court of Illinois. Her mother was a social worker who now ran an extensive not-for-profit organization that helped parents find affordable health care. They also offered scholarships geared toward females entering the fields of math and science, among other things.

  “My parents are doing great. Mom’s trying to get Dad to slow down and take her back to Paris. They haven’t been in five years.” Dawn accepted the fresh mango juice Ashlyn offered her. “I’m happy to be home, though.”

  “Why did you decide to leave Chicago?” Ashlyn never knew what made her ask, but she knew there was a bit of sadness behind Dawn’s reason. The subject was one they often avoided. Ashlyn was tired of hiding from painful secrets in her family.

  Fancy rubbed her head against Dawn’s leg, wanting attention. Unconsciously, Dawn began to rub Fancy’s back, gathering her thoughts. “I never had the desire to go into finance, the law, social work, or medicine. I knew from an early age that my passion was creating cuisine, but my parents would never have understood, so I needed to step out of their immediate line of sight. I never told you this, but I had a hard time growing up. My dad, mother, and brother were all perfect, well, at least in the eyes of the world. My parents’ friends would pat me on the head and call me a late bloomer, and my brother’s friends secretly called me names. They all came from old money, were star athletes, and had great grades while hardly trying.

  “After college, I knew that I couldn’t spend the rest of my life married to some crony of my father’s choosing. So before I changed my mind and lost my courage, I took my graduation money and moved to Atlanta.”

  “Just think, if you didn’t move you would have never met Haile, or had Laney.” Haile Gobena was Dawn’s husband of ten years. He was a physician from Ethiopia. He moved to Atlanta to attend Morehouse Medical School. The man had a sweet tooth that defied logic, which led to his meeting Dawn.

  During the second year of Dawn’s business—a bakery named Delightful Delicacies by Dawn—Haile had walked in, tasted her triple chocolate cupcakes with raspberry crème topping, and jokingly proposed on the spot.

  Now Haile and Dawn had been happily married for ten years. Happily married people surrounded Ashlyn, and she asked herself why she shouldn’t desire the same for herself. Haile loved Dawn beyond belief, which was evident to all in the way he looked at her. Her soul fused with his, her soul called to his, across continents, to beautiful Mother Africa. Haile whispered the notion into Dawn’s ear every time before making love to her.

  “How was the shoot in Philadelphia?”

  “I met someone.” Ashlyn said it so fast Dawn almost missed it. “His name is Kevin Dunmore. He’s only twenty-five, but so sexy. He’s a sultry night, while Frank’s a rainy day. He kissed me, and I forgot time and place. He wants me to come for a visit.”

  “Are you going?”

  “He gave me an invitation to an art show, a show I would love to attend. He doesn’t have to be the reason for the trip, right?”

  * * *

  Obviously, Ashlyn was looking for a reason to return, but Dawn felt like toying with her a little longer, to find out more about Kevin Dunmore. “What do you truly know about him? Have you spoken over the phone?”

  “Normally, I would find out as much as possible online, but he has my mind so twisted that I haven’t used my tablet for two weeks. You know, in my mind I’m Agatha Christie’s character, Miss Jane Marple,” Ashlyn jokingly said with a horrible English accent.

  “So, what’s stopping you now?” Dawn asked, daring her.

  “You sure know how to put pressure on a person. What if I don’t like what I find out?”

  “I would much rather you found out now, instead of when you’re sitting in his basement tied to the water heater.” Dawn knew the exact buttons to push.

  Ashlyn retrieved her tablet and immediately went to work, her fingers rapidly tapping on the screen. Dawn thought she looked like a person breaking into vital CIA files the way she was concentrating. The information she pulled up made her green eyes bulge. She turned the screen so Dawn could see.

  “Wow, he’s very sexy. It’s about time you got a taste of caramel. Me…I prefer chocolate,” Dawn said.

  “Yes, I realize that. After all, I’ve seen your husband. But back to the subject of Kevin. He’s the featured artist. Remember the show I told you he invited me to? Well, it’s his show. He’s Zahir,” Ashlyn said, giggling. “I criticized him to his face, saying Zahir shouldn’t receive so much praise until he’s proven himself more. I called him a boy!” Ashlyn covered her mouth with her hand, just picturing the egg on her face. “He had found success by the time he was twenty. Not just artistic success, but financial as well. Kevin was selling artwork while Makayla and I were living above a liquor store.” Ashlyn placed her forehead against the cool glass counter, embarrassment radiating through her. While Ashlyn’s head was still down Dawn heard her say, “Open mouth and insert foot.”

  “What does Makayla have to say about Kevin?”

  Ashlyn peeped at her. “I haven’t told her yet.”

  “Why not? You’ve shared so much. She’s your best friend. I don’t understand.” Dawn was truly baffled.

  “I’m afraid she’ll tell me I’m making a fool of myself and that I’m destined for heartache. No one knows me as well as Makayla, and this is so unlike me. I mean, look at him.” Ashlyn pointed at the screen. “Does he look like the long-haired, scruffy, T-shirt, jeans and flip-flop wearing vegans I usually date?”

  Dawn took her time asking the question, raising a subject they normally avoided. “Why do you only date white guys? When that’s only one side of you, why limit yourself to one side or one type?”

  “Today must be a day for confessions.” Ashlyn walked to the French doors, shutting them to the setting sun. She opened the cabinets and retrieved the dog food. The stubborn dog was still holding out for Alpo sliced roast beef. “Fancy, you have to eat. If I can give up meat, then so can you.”

  Ashlyn had slowly weaned herself off red meat, and was now down to eating fish twice a week. She filled Fancy’s bowls with food and water, then placed the bowls on top of the Tibetan hand-woven rug she’d brought Fancy. Fancy pushed the food bowl toward the trashcan on the other side of the kitchen. Ashlyn stood in front of the trashcan, waiting to see what the obstinate dog would do. Fancy must have realized that she’d pushed Ashlyn too far, because she turned tail and bolted up the stairs. Ashlyn figured Fancy was probably lying in the middle of bed, with the remote under her paw.

  “Ashlyn, do you plan on answering me?” Dawn probed.

  “I never asked my parents why they chose to send me to an all-white elementary, middle, and high school. My mother’s one of the strongest black women I know and my father doesn’t make a decision of that magnitude by himself.

  “Growing up, I experienced only one side of my history, and now at the age of thirty-three I’m starting to feel I was denied something significant. Talk about a delayed reaction…”

  “Sounds more like suppression to me.”

  “We lived in an all-white neighborhood, and the only time I lived the other half of myself was family gatherings. Those were initially few and far between because of the tension between Uncle Thomas and my dad.

  “Even during college, there were very few blacks at the all-girl Catholic college my parents chose, and the few that were there had backgroun
ds similar to mine.”

  “Why did you choose that college? I always wondered why, because that was your chance to branch out, escape that box your parents placed you in.”

  “Dawn, I was only sixteen when I left for college. I could go away only if I attended the school of their choosing. The day after graduation, I moved to Atlanta. I never went home, not even for a day.” Ashlyn was ashamed of the decisions made by her parents, but she would never go so far as to say it aloud.

  Lately, though, she’d questioned why her mother had allowed it to happen. Especially when her mother came from a line of classy, strong black women. But her mother rarely talked about her past.

  “Ashlyn, in the world we live in today, race isn’t as important.”

  “My background is hard to explain. Irish father and African-American mother. I’ve never dated a black man. Do you realize how bizarre that sounds? Not many black men are going to understand, and because of pride, I refuse to explain. I hate the thought of the condemnation I would endure, a decision made by my parents, a decision I continued to live with as an adult.

  “Frank was my first serious relationship. I never dated much before him and haven’t since. He’s the first, and only, man I’ve had an intimate relationship with, and that was over two years ago. I can live an independent life, but it’s still hard to forget my mother telling me that good girls are only intimate with their husbands.”

  “Ashlyn, it’s…”

  “I know the year. My parents are very devout, and they’ve been that way for my entire life. They sent me to an all-girl Catholic school, elementary through college. When, where, and with whom was I suppose to be intimate. I was surrounded by lots of females. I never found the time for casual sex. As silly as it may sound, I expected the one man with whom I had an intimate relationship to be my husband.”

  “You’ve only been with one man your entire life? You have the type of body men go crazy for, especially black men. Your parents and the nuns really did a serious head job on you…talk about a guilt trip. So why Kevin and why now?”

  “Not an hour goes by when I don’t think about him. We shared a kiss, and even now, when I recall it, it was better than any sex Frank and I ever had. And Frank and I had awesome sex. Kevin’s so smooth, and his voice, well, his voice is a rain dance. I pretended with him not to like his assertiveness, but secretly I loved it. I’m always so in control, but with him I sense the ability to let loose. He knows his worth…just as I know mine.” Ashlyn made up her mind. “Dawn, I need you and Laney to take Fancy for me.”

  “Why, where are you going?”

  “To pay a friend a much overdue visit.” Ashlyn ran upstairs, scaring Fancy in the process. If she knew Makayla the way she thought she did, the clothes would arrive the next day. That was good because her cargo pants and boy shorts would never do. She planned on taking Mr. Kevin Dunmore by storm and enjoying every sizzling second. Thank God for a stubborn best friend and the listening ear of a loving cousin.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A red plum sun was setting, the color fading from bursting crimson to light coral, to lavender, and finally blush. Kevin unlocked his front pocket door, a stainless steel structure with four rectangular polyglass cut-outs. The pocket door made it easier for him to move large canvases in and out. Vlad and Aaron had just helped deliver the last of his paintings to the gallery. The gallery usually handled the pick-up, but Kevin wanted to take extra precautions. Besides, he needed to kill some time.

  Kevin’s show was the next day and he was beginning to doubt whether Ashlyn would come. Damn, how could he have been so wrong? Usually he was dead on about the opposite sex. He climbed the stairs to the loft space.

  Kevin removed his clothes and changed into a pair of black basketball shorts, foregoing a shirt. Aaron and Vlad had invited him out for a pre-celebration, but he’d declined. He needed to get his head right, prepare mentally for his show. Everything he’d ever done in the past had led to this moment. Yet, the two people he most wanted to attend wouldn’t be there.

  When his phone vibrated, Kevin checked the number before answering. A slow smile formed as he reclined on the sofa.

  “Hello,” he answered. Silence from her end. “Four-zero-four is an Atlanta area code, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  Kevin adjusted to her silence. He was willing to wait for her. Someone knocked at his door. He detested unexpected visitors and refused to answer until the person on the other side became persistent. Kevin angrily walked to the door, thinking hard about how to get rid of his unexpected visitor. He assumed it was Aaron and Vlad, trying to get him to change his mind about going out. Kevin hurriedly slid open the door, then dropped his phone in surprise.

  * * *

  “Did you forget you wrote your address on the back of the invitation?” Ashlyn relished the stunned look on his face. Her eyes leisurely worked their way down his lithe body, taking in his chiseled chest and a few stomach muscles she never knew existed. Not a strand of hair existed on the smooth plane. She tried to find a physical flaw, but there were none. “Even your feet are beautiful.” Her eyes once again met his.

  Kevin held the door with one hand, but quickly snaked the other around her waist, pulling her to him. His lips found hers, demanding more. Ashlyn felt her feet leave the floor and she heard the door slam.

  She broke the kiss and asked him, “Is this how you greet all of your visitors?”

  “Only the stubborn, hard-to-get teases! What took you so long?” he asked as he walked her across the floor. Kevin set Ashlyn on the dining table and settled in a dining chair, her legs spread along the outside of his torso. He studied her, and she returned his stare, content for the first time in a long while.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were Zahir? You allowed me to make a fool of myself.”

  “I respect your opinion. Most people are never honest to an individual’s face. I found you bold and insightful. Why try to stifle that? Plus, I genuinely wanted to hear your viewpoint.” Kevin ran his hands up her smooth thighs, stopping at the hem of her blue sailor shorts.

  The shorts were high at the waist, emphasizing the flaring of her hips. Ashlyn leaned back, her elbows touching the flat surface of the dark wood table. “Are you intentionally flattering me now…so you can have your way with me later?”

  Kevin inched his chair a little closer, his torso connecting with the edge of the table. His fingers were unable to go any further than an inch under the hem of her tight shorts. “Why wait until later?” Kevin wrapped his strong arms around her waist and pulled her to him.

  Ashlyn sat straight up and looked down at him, her fingers running through the close cut curls on his head. “I feel as if I’m melting.”

  Kevin rubbed her back in slow circles. “A little rain never hurt anyone.”

  “What about a downpour?”

  He gave her a secretive smile before giving a little love bite to her stomach through her white cambric shirt. “It’s really good to see you.”

  “It’s good to be seen,” Ashlyn responded. She bent down, pressing her lips to his, hugging his neck, and playing with the hair at his nape. Oh, what a supreme head rush. Thy cup truly runneth over, she thought.

  Ashlyn closed her eyes, moaning. The sound shot straight to his groin.

  Her tongue traced the outer contours of his full lips, eventually stopping to glide across where they met.

  Kevin opened his mouth slightly, but made her work for entrance.

  Her mind was not her own; she wanted to devour him, it was all moving too quickly. Ashlyn felt the zipper of her shorts coming undone. She thought she wanted the quick and the fast, but it wasn’t so easy to let him ease her clothes from her body, to lie bare before him. She desperately wished it were.

  She cradled his face and said, “You are one busy boy, but sex has never been casual for me.” The fact she was now considering it upset her greatly.

  Kevin slid the chair across the floor, watching as she attempted to re-zip her shorts
along the side. He walked to her and said. “Stand up and let me help.” After he finished, he held her, his chest at her back. He freely acknowledged that his hands had moved faster than his brain, but he’d never label her as casual. She kept placing him in some stereotypical place he didn’t wish to be.

  Ashlyn listened to his heavy breathing, sensing that somehow she had insulted him.

  Kevin spoke to her from behind. “I’m afraid you’ll never give me a chance. There’s nothing casual about my intentions.” His hands spanned her torso, his palms kneading the soft flesh. He inhaled her; she smelled of night-blooming water lilies. “What do you expect from me?”

  “Give me time. Let’s go slowly.” Ashlyn disengaged quickly from his arms. She avoided looking him in the eye, suddenly unsure of herself. She could guarantee Kevin had been with more than one partner. Would he find her lack of experience unattractive? She detested self-doubt, but she was who she was, and Ashlyn would be damned if she started questioning it now.

  “Where are your bags?” he asked, looking around before heading to the door.

  “I never said I was staying with you.”

  “So where are you staying or is this a day trip?” Kevin’s question was slightly sarcastic.

  Ashlyn snatched up her purse, which she’d dropped on the floor. “I’ll see you at the gallery. Or are you going to withdraw the invitation because I refused to spend the night?”

  Kevin grabbed her hand, stopping her in the midst of a miffed stomp to the front door. “Listen, this shouldn’t be an argument. Of course the invitation is still open. I’d like you to stay. I’m even willing to sleep on the couch.” Unfortunately, Kevin couldn’t keep a straight face as he spoke and his charming smile made an appearance.

  She couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “Do you really expect me to believe that? I have, after all, noticed your Saudek and Saudkova prints on the wall.” Ashlyn gazed at the photo entitled “Road Movie”. The image was of a woman wearing only knee-high black leather boots. She was facing a man sitting on a motorcycle. The fully clothed man held her as she faced the camera, looking over his shoulder. Her body was slanted, the side of her breast and nipple visible.