Painted Passion

by Latisha Brandon

  Ashlyn watched Kevin out of her peripheral vision, holding back great gulps of laughter at his bulging eyes. She knew it was cruel not to prepare him for this scene, but if he were going to remain a permanent part of her life, he had to see and experience Bernie Ingle, showstopper, at his fullest. Bernie was a true diva; he relished being the center of attention.

  Bernie was family to her, the little brother she’d never had. Her parents had stopped after her. She never knew why. Her childhood would have been lonely if not for her cousins, especially Dawn.

  “Good evening, cheri, it’s always a pleasure to be in the company of such an enchanting woman.” The man kissed the center of her palm, his lips lingering.

  Ashlyn heard Kevin clear his throat with an exaggerated noise.

  Kevin eyeballed the man holding Ashlyn’s hand. He barely stood taller than Kevin’s belt buckle. The stranger carried himself with such a strong self-confidence that he instantly earned Kevin’s respect.

  With sparkling eyes Ashlyn kissed both of the stranger’s cheeks. His face was weather-worn, baked by the sun and his Creole origins. “Augustine, it’s so good to see you. You do wonders for a woman’s psyche.”

  “I try, mademoiselle, but with you it is easy. The compliments roll from the tongue, like dew from a leaf. You make a man consider, what if…”

  Ashlyn shared a laugh with Augustine. He and Bernie were perfect for each other. She raised her hand, showing him her emerald. “It’s now madame.” She linked her hands with Kevin and pulled him closer. “Bernie still doesn’t know.” She gave Augustine a pointed look. “So let me tell him!”

  Augustine spoke with his hands, gesturing boldly. “Now, now I comprehend the creaminess of your skin, the ripeness of your…”

  His speech was cut short by, “Kevin Dunmore…Ashlyn’s husband.” Kevin extended his hand, accepted the one given by Augustine, and squeezed tightly.

  Augustine instantly understood. “Please, my friend, accept my sincerest apology if I have overstepped, but you have nothing to fear from me. We reside on the opposite sides of love. Congratulations. When was the big day?”

  Kevin felt as if Augustine spoke with the dexterity of the Riddler. He perceived only an attractive man who dished out extravagant compliments and charmed women with a mind-numbing efficiently. Augustine made up for his short stature with a cosmopolitan swagger. His poise matched Kevin’s, and he had to give it to him, he was smooth. Kevin could learn a few pointers from him.

  “Augustine Baptiste, please stop teasing Kevin. You have the man fuming.” Ashlyn turned to Kevin. “Augustine is a jockey and trainer here on the farm. He’s also Bernie’s loving partner.”

  The light instantly went on. Kevin’s eyes grew to the size of quarters. “Oh, partner.” Kevin pounded Augustine on the back. “Nice meeting you, man. I’ll send up a prayer, because you have your hands full with Mr. Bernard Ranulf Ingle, gentleman of leisure, man about town, diva extraordinaire. Well, that’s how he introduced himself to me. I’ll be honest, the man scares me.”

  “Yes, yes, Bernard is a bit much, but it’s why I love him so. He’s unencumbered…not afraid to be himself.”

  Speak of the devil, the man of the hour approached. Bernie wore a stretched sateen jacket with embellishment along the lapels. The color was midnight black, the same for the narrow trousers he seemed to have poured his lithe frame into.

  The screech was high-pitched. “Ashlyn, where in the hell have you been? And you’ve gained weight! You’re about to bust out of that Alexander McQueen dress.” Bernie suddenly registered what his eyes were seeing, “Oh…my…God, you’re wearing McQueen.” Bernie attached his hand to Ashlyn, kissing Augustine as he passed, dragging Ashlyn to the closest bathroom.

  He gave the women in the room an evil eye, hissing, “Scat, wenches, this space is now occupied.”

  Ashlyn pulled her wrist from his crazy clutches. “Bernie, have you lost your mind? Why are you being rude to your guests?”

  “No, do not even try to change the subject. Are you back on that stuff?”

  “What stuff?” Ashlyn asked, dumbfounded.

  “The meat, girl, the meat!”

  “Bernie, give me a hug and please settle your nerves.” She embraced her friend and brother. She was shocked when he didn’t let her go.

  He spoke to her through a tight hug. “Have you been in Philly this entire time?”

  “Most of it, but I’ve been back in Georgia for about a month and a half.”

  “I was serious when I said you’ve gained weight. Your hips are spreading. They were already full. No wonder Kevin is attached to your side. Some men love big asses, which I never understood, but to each his own.”

  Ashlyn pushed him away. “I thought you’d missed me?”

  “I did.”

  “Then why are you talking about the weight I’ve gained? You would gain weight, too, if you were pregnant!” In for a penny, in for a pound. “We also got married in Vegas.” Ashlyn was not prepared for his reaction to her getting married.

  Bernie sweetly and gently rubbed Ashlyn’s stomach. “Congratulations, Ashlyn. You’re going to make a wonderful mother.” His eyes filled with tears. He turned from her, splashing water on his face.

  Ashlyn spoke to his reflection in the mirror. “What’s wrong?” But she already knew. “Bernie, I’m so sorry.” How could she tell one of her closest friends about her marriage in such a hurried fashion? Especially when he and Augustine didn’t have the same opportunity. Ashlyn kissed his temple. They were both adults in loving relationships, but only she had the inherited right to take her relationship to the next level. She didn’t know what else to say, so she stood with him, offering silent support while he cried silent tears.

  She sat in that bathroom until Bernie cried himself sick. It was a hard, ugly cry, with a congested nose, red swollen eyes, hiccups, his speech altered, his body doubled over as he wept and he wept. She was embarrassed over her happiness. She wanted to gush to Bernie; he, of all people, would understand finding the love of a lifetime. But that was before California, before Vermont, before New Jersey, before Maryland. She wanted to apologize when it was not of her doing.

  Bernie, being Bernie, finally noticed the emerald on her hand. She had what he wanted, the same as his parents, as her parents, and Kevin’s. Bernie was a true friend and came through for her. He held her, told her how happy he was for her. They were interrupted before he could finish. Augustine sought him out, laying his head on his shoulder, rubbing his back, offering the kind of comfort only a partner can offer.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Ashlyn curled onto her side, her head nestled in Kevin’s lap. Even the hum of the plane couldn’t lull her to sleep. They were on their way to Chicago for Christmas.

  She heard Maxwell’s “Know These Things: Shouldn’t You”, the introduction sinking into her marrow. Kevin’s flexible fingers massaged her scalp.

  “Why are you so quiet?” he asked. Normally, she took advantage of all the luxurious amenities when they flew. Whether or not she was ready to admit it, she actually enjoyed the luxury. It brought her comfort and reminded her of her childhood because she was born in to it. Kevin didn’t believe there was anything wrong with being wealthy and relishing the lifestyle that went along with it.

  Ashlyn lifted her head and gazed out the window of the plane. They were flying from Atlanta to Chicago. “My mind is on Bernie, but I’m also worried about you meeting my parents. Kevin, I haven’t seen or spoken to my family in over five months. I don’t think email or text messages count.”

  Kevin knew they would blame him for this breach, but he would gladly carry the burden for her. “I know the only reason can’t be me.”

  “No, it really has nothing to do with you. The discussion I have to have with my parents is long overdue. Decisions about my life were made, decisions I don’t agree with.”

  He wondered why she was unburdening herself now. “What decisions?”

  “For as long as I can rememb
er the only people I saw who looked like me were my mother and her family. And I didn’t meet them until I was ten years old because they were angry with her for marrying my father.

  “I would go months without seeing another brown face aside from my mother’s and mine; no one at school, at church, in social environments. I lived in a bubble of my parents’ making. I had no friends. I was a freak, an outcast.

  “So I threw myself into my studies, breezing pass elementary, middle, and high school, and later undergrad. They labeled me gifted, and while that was great, it just kept other kids my age away. The white kids saw me as black, and a black presence amongst them was practically unheard of. Their parents feared my influence. Why, I do not know, when I was even more white bread than they were.

  “My mother seemed to cringe when I showed an interest in anything too ‘ethnic.’ When I was thirteen I started sneaking into the city by riding the rail. I went to museums, neighborhood restaurants, the latest movies, concerts in the park, high school ballgames. I was obsessed with all life outside my own.”

  He could hardly believe what he was hearing. How do you attempt to shelter a person as vibrant as Ashlyn? Her explanation only resulted in him having more questions. “How long did the sneaking out last, and how did you avoid your parents finding out?”

  “It continued until I left for college at sixteen. My father found out two years before that. He turned a blind eye to my hijinks, but I do know he started to have security follow me. The security detail continued until after I graduated from college.”

  Kevin pulled her up to face him, his brown eyes locking with her green. He kissed her forehead, her left and right cheeks, the tip of her nose, and her rosebud mouth. “Thank you for sharing your story. I understand so much more now, but you have to seek the final answers from your parents.” Kevin assumed that her father had sent security to check on her over the past five months. When he finally met her father, he would already know all about Kevin, including his troubled past. Kevin wondered what his reception would be like. Would her father judge him for his youthful indiscretion? “Your father already knows about me.” It was a statement, not a question.

  Ashlyn dropped her eyes. “Yes, I assume so.”

  * * *

  Kathryn Spencer-Farrell stood in the center of an elegant prison of her own making. An eighteenth-century Aubusson carpet muffled the tapping of her heels. The deep blue was the perfect backdrop for the mythical scene playing out across the tapestry, the detailing exquisite. Above her head glowed a six-figure Swarovski crystal chandelier, drawing every eye that passed through the double mahogany arched doors. The dining table that sat twenty was set with Waterford china for three. Her surroundings were intimidating, but that’s how she wanted it. It held the coercible at bay by making her seem cold and aloof.

  A classic Chanel suit graced her ethereal frame. Her long black hair was swept into a timeless chignon, gray just beginning to make an appearance. Her French stockings were silk and her pumps Valentino. She wore fine tailoring like metal armor. A minimum amount of makeup graced her stunning face.

  Her daughter possessed her bone structure, cheeks deeply grooved and bones razor sharp. She was the color of Jamaican blue mountain coffee, and just as smooth.

  She never heard him approach, but she caught his scent. He would forever remind her of crisp, fresh linens. Liam; no one knew her as well as he.

  His lips grazed the side of her long neck. “Kathryn, the house looks superb. Every year you outdo yourself.” It was Christmas morning, and Ashlyn was coming home.

  The formal living room was over two stories. A decorated evergreen stood in one corner. On one wall was a fireplace six feet tall and twelve feet long. A blazing fire crackled. Kathryn walked to the fire, warming her hands. Ashlyn was coming home.

  “What has you so preoccupied?” Liam asked. Normally, she would be in the kitchen overseeing the staff cooking Christmas dinner. This year she had withdrawn the invitation to other family members and friends. They both knew the situation with Ashlyn was about to come to a head. The previous year during the holidays the house had been full of people laughing and toasting the holiday season. This year it would be only the three of them. Ashlyn was coming home.

  “I never meant to push her so far away that she avoided coming home.” Kathryn finally turned to Liam, her love. His hair was silver. Little lines added character to his face. His eyes were the purest green, like Ashlyn’s. He was handsome in an unpretentious and earthy manner. It was his smile that had first drawn her. She’d always believed he was braver than she. When they first married, and the world judged them cruelly for that decision, she’d withdrawn. However, Liam became bolder, flaunting his love and devotion for her.

  He pulled his wife close. “It no longer matters. She’s coming home now.” Kathryn placed her head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat. Their marriage was very much traditional. She was a lady, refined. When she married him, she showed boldness, a trait she never knew she possessed. Liam came from good, wholesome Irish stock, but Kathryn and her family were members of the black elite.

  Yes, he had proven himself time and again in both wealth and position. However, initially her family believed he married Kathryn for her trust fund, and they worried for her, but he never spent a penny of it, thanks to hard work and intuition.

  “Liam, how can I make up for all my mistakes?”

  “The time is long overdue for us to tell her about old fears.”

  “I don’t want to lose my daughter.”

  He rubbed her back. “Ashlyn was never lost to us. We’re still her parents, and that affords us a little leeway. She also knows we love her. Not everything we did in the past was bad. There was laughter and travel, and we sent her to the best schools.”

  They turned to the front door when they heard the noise. Ashlyn was home.

  * * *

  Kevin gazed up at the façade of pale gray stone. The edifice seemed to soar at least four stories. “Just you and your parents lived here?” he asked, stunned by the size. Kevin wondered why so few needed so much. However, he realized that he was being prematurely judgmental because he was anticipating a cold reception.

  “I know it seems large, but the Spencer family home is three times as big. That house goes to the first born Spencer male.”

  Kevin looked at Ashlyn as if she were sputtering gibberish.

  She raised both hands, snickering. “I know the notion of male heirs is antiquated, but this has been our family tradition for over one hundred years.”

  “And you’re fine with that tradition?” He stopped her before she crossed the threshold. He had so much more to say to her, but the words were stuck in his throat.

  “I have no other choice but to like it. It’s a Spencer tradition, even written into the wills.”

  Kevin kissed Ashlyn, stilling her, stopping her rant about silly elders and wills. It was no casual kiss, but a kiss claiming her, each marked the other. He wanted it that way before her family came in between them. It was a private kiss made public.

  “Ashlyn, what is the meaning of this vulgar behavior? And who is this man…pawing you?” a highly cultured female voice suddenly demanded.

  Ashlyn jumped away from Kevin like a chastised teenager caught groping in the family basement.

  Kevin was having none of it. He wrapped his arm around her waist, extending his other hand to her father. “Mr. Farrell, it’s good to finally meet you. I’m Kevin Dunmore, Ashlyn’s husband.”

  Liam shook the hand of the young man from the photos. He was momentarily shocked speechless. He felt his wife begin to sink to the marble floor and caught her before she hit.

  “Mom? Mom? What’s wrong?” Ashlyn rubbed her mother’s face, realizing how much she’d missed her.

  Kevin interceded. “Why don’t we go inside? I didn’t realize the news was going to be such a surprise.” Damn, he thought, Ashlyn’s mother is a drama queen. He followed them down an extra long hallway, taking so many lefts and right
s that he soon felt lost. They were treading a space dedicated to portraits of the family. Kevin silently laughed at some of the amateurish attempts, though. He knew the pictures had probably cost the family a small fortune. He stopped before a painting of Ashlyn as a child. She wore a ring of wildflowers around her head. Her face was baby fat, her eyes glowing, and her two front teeth missing. Kevin whipped out his camera phone, snapping a shot for later, when he could laugh in private.

  “Kevin, my mother has just fainted because you could not wait until after I told her about our marriage. Now you’re standing in the family portrait gallery and laughing at images of my family. I know some of the attempts are bad, but come on, my parents are waiting in the yellow salon.”

  “Is there a green salon?” Kevin jokingly asked.

  “No, but there are red and blue ones,” she told him, sounding like a tour guide.

  Kevin entered the yellow salon, knowing now where it got its name. The flooring was a pale yellow pine, the seating upholstered in crème and gold. Marigolds dotted the wallpaper. He walked toward her parents. Her mother was reclined on a chaise lounge, clutching a tumbler of what Kevin assumed was strong spirits. Liam held her other hand and whispered softly to her. Kevin found himself rolling his eyes.

  Ashlyn noticed and jabbed a sharp elbow into his side. “Obviously, she’s having a difficult time adjusting to the news.” She placed her palms together, prayer-like. “Please be patient.”

  “Ashlyn, I’m sorry, but this is ridiculous. Come on, your mother ‘faints’ with the news you’ve gotten married? She should give you more credit. Obviously you wouldn’t have brought a loser home.” He walked further into the cavernous room. “Oh, my bad, this is the same person who wanted you to marry that idiot Frank!” Kevin wrestled with his trench coat and unwrapped the scarf from his neck. He placed the items atop hers on a delicate-looking chair.

  Ashlyn touched his arm to get his attention. “I need you to leave South Philly at the door.”

  “What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”