by Dwan Abrams
His heart sank. “I just bought it,” he explained. “It’s a BMW motorcycle.”
“I can see that.” She folded her arms across her chest, expressing her disapproval. “Why did you feel the need to get a motorcycle? Are you going through an early midlife crisis or something? My God, if you do this at turning thirty-five, what in the world are you going to do when you turn forty?”
Her words stung, and he found himself questioning his motives for wanting that bike at this stage of his life. How did she know that a part of him felt like he was getting old and turning into his dad? Nothing against his pops; he had the utmost respect for him as a man and a father. As far as Greg was concerned, he couldn’t have asked for a better role model to teach him how to be a man. Greg’s point of contention was that he never knew the biker side of his dad. He only knew the disciplinarian and provider side. And now, here was his father, well over sixty, and no matter how much the family moved around and changed residences, that beloved bike remained covered up and parked.
He refused to fall into that same trap. Before he and Shania started having children, Greg wanted to cross off a few more items from his bucket list, like owning a bike. What was the point of only existing in life when a person had the opportunity to actually live it?
“I—I,” he stammered, unable to get his words out. He couldn’t believe that she had tripped him up like that. He felt like punching himself in the face for acting like such a coward. Franklin was right. Man up, he demanded.
“And furthermore,” Shania continued, still working her neck, “how dare you make such a major, and dangerous , decision without consulting me?” She rolled her eyes. “But I can’t solely put the blame on you, because I know that Franklin put you up to this foolishness.”
Greg felt the need to defend his friend. “Franklin might’ve rooted me on, but I’m the one who made the final decision.”
“Oh really? So what should I do, applaud you?”
Greg sighed and dropped his shoulders. He pinched the bridge of his nose and stared up at the sky. “Babe, I don’t want to argue with you.”
“Then you shouldn’t have purchased this bike.” She dug her hands into her hips. “How selfish and inconsiderate can you be?”
“Well, it is my birthday, sweetheart. Can I buy me something that makes me happy? Why are you making such a big deal out of it?”
“Excuse me?” She took a step away from him, and her face had lost its color.
He clenched his jaw. He and Shania didn’t usually argue, and he didn’t like hearing her speak to him in such a harsh tone. And the look on her face wasn’t helping, either. He stared down at his feet and pretended to become entranced by a tiny weed that had sprung up from a thin crack in the pavement. A million thoughts raced through his mind as he tried to figure out a way to restore the peace in their relationship while keeping his bike.
“Shania, I’ve been wanting a bike for a while now, and I know you might not—”
She halted her hand inches from his face. “The last thing I want to do is stand in the way of your happiness, but I wish you would’ve talked to me about this first.” Her sable eyes stared into his light brown ones. She tossed her hands up and sighed. “You had to know that I wouldn’t be okay with this. For Christ’s sake, my parents have already been taken from me. I couldn’t deal with another phone call telling me that someone I love so dearly has been taken from me. I can’t, Greg . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she looked down at the ground.
“Babe, don’t cry. Come here. Shania, come here.”
When she didn’t budge, he went to her and pulled her into his arms. He knew that Shania had taken her parents’ death hard, and even though ten years had helped heal the wound, she still struggled with their death at times. He could only imagine what she had gone through; a twenty-two-year-old woman, in her senior year in college, looking forward to walking across that stage, and suddenly being slapped with the news that a drunk driver had slammed into her parents’ vehicle, killing them instantly. As if that wasn’t bad enough, to have to take a leave from college to go home and raise her ten-year-old sister. Although she didn’t get to walk across the stage, she took her finals the following semester and received her degree in the mail a few weeks later.
Greg felt a tinge of sadness as he mulled over the demise of his in-laws. He wished that he could’ve met them just one time so that he could thank them for the exceptional job they’d done raising Shania. He appreciated the spiritual foundation Shania’s parents had given her. She had proven to be a woman of strong character, integrity, and faith by the way she stepped up to the plate and took on a stage of motherhood that she hadn’t asked for or expected. He didn’t know of many young women who would’ve taken on that responsibility. That made him respect her even more.
“Baby, listen,” he said and kissed her forehead, then used the hem of his shirt to wipe her tears. “I should’ve talked with you first, I know, and I apologize for not doing so. It’s just that owning a motorcycle has been a lifelong dream of mine, and I didn’t want you to try to talk me out of it. You know you would’ve done everything in your power to talk me out of it.”
Shania softened her tone and smiled. “You’re right,” she said and nodded. “You should’ve talked to me first, and I would’ve talked you out of it.” She unfolded her arms and placed them at her sides. “After you told me that your brother had gotten a motorcycle, I sensed in my spirit that something was going on with you. So I’m not completely surprised, but . . .”
He took her hands in his. “But?”
She sighed deeply. “Marriages work because couples learn how to compromise. And . . . even though I want to demand you to go take that bike right back where you got it from . . .”
Greg lifted his eyebrows in optimistic anticipation as he waited for her to finish.
“I guess it’s okay.”
Greg felt like doing a backflip, and if his spine hadn’t already seen thirty-five years, he probably would’ve. “So I can keep it?”
She gave him a begrudging smile. “But if you have an accident and hurt yourself really bad, I will kill you.”
Greg laughed at her concern. “Nothing will happen to me, baby.” He stepped to the side so that he could look her in the face. Though she wore a hint of a smile, her eyes were filled with sadness. He held her chin and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “I appreciate your worry. I understand your worry—but you do too much of it. God’ll take care of me. And I promise you, I’ll be careful.”
She bit her bottom lip and lowered her head.
Just the thought of causing Shania pain hurt his heart. He slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her close. With her head resting on his chest, he stroked her straight, shoulder-length hair.
Trying to lighten the mood, Greg said, “Wanna go for a ride?”
She gasped. “I said compromise. I didn’t say I was crazy.”
He nuzzled her neck, then sucked on her earlobe. “Wanna go for a different kind of ride?”
Her naughty smile matched his, and he pumped his hands in the air as she hooked a finger through his belt loop and pulled him into the house. Nothing like a good serving of birthday sex to make everything all right.
While she stood beneath the shower’s spigot and washed away the traces of their lovemaking, Shania promised herself that she wouldn’t think about the vehicle that was sitting outside in her driveway. But who was she kidding? That was the only thing she could think about. She tried hard not to be mad with Greg, yet she found it impossible not to be. Her cheeks felt hot every time she thought about that motorcycle. What in the world was he thinking? She concluded that his actions seemed reckless and irresponsible—unlike the Greg she knew and loved. She hoped that he wasn’t starting to change and take her for granted. For crying out loud, they had only been married a little over three months. Wasn’t it too soon for the fairytale to be over?
She stepped out of the shower and gritted her teeth in frustration while she
dried off. As she lathered her body with creamy body butter, she let out a sigh. She didn’t want anything, including her foul mood, to interfere with the plans she had for Greg’s birthday.
Birthdays had always been special to Shania. Growing up, her parents used to throw lavish parties for both her and her sister. She liked the way those celebrations made her feel . . . special, like a princess. She liked making her loved ones feel special too. She knew that the only way she was going to release her anger was to pray.
With Greg in his home office, using the computer, she closed the bedroom door and kneeled down beside her bed. She shut her eyes and prayed that God would give her peace about the situation and keep Greg safe.
When she finished praying, she pulled out her wedding album and perused the professional photos, reminding herself how much she loved her husband. She then closed the album and touched up her makeup and brushed her dark hair. She was already dressed in fitted jeans and a sexy shirt, so she slid on a pair of open-toed, wedge-heeled sandals that showed off her hot pink pedicure and went down the hall to get Greg.
Standing in the doorway of Greg’s office, Shania saw Greg reading the birthday card she had left for him on top of his keyboard, smiling. She knew that he liked more meaningful cards, so she had read several before selecting the one that best conveyed her feelings about her man.
He looked up at her and closed the card. “Thank you, baby.”
“Glad you liked it.” She shifted on her foot as she read his expression. “Everything’s okay, right?”
He placed the card on his desk and nodded as he exited out of his e-mail. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”
But from the tone of his voice and the expression on his face, she knew everything was not fine. She invited herself to sit in his lap, and she held his cheeks while she stared into his face. “What’s wrong?”
His hand went to his chin and he tugged on the little patch of hair that was there. “I just checked my e-mail, and, uh . . .”
“And?”
He scratched the back of his head with both hands, then let his arms flop down to his sides. “You know the five new insurance policies that I signed last month?”
A sour feeling settled in the pit of her belly. “Yes.”
“Well . . .” He scratched the back of his head again. “I just checked my e-mail and four of the policyholders canceled their policies.”
“They can’t cancel,” Shania said, racking her brain as she recalled the policy guidelines. “I thought that if they didn’t cancel in thirty days, they’re locked in by contract for at least six months.”
“True, but . . .”—Greg looked at the ceiling and blew air from his lips—“it hasn’t been a full thirty days yet.”
Bummer. At a loss for words, Shania turned in his lap and faced the computer. Then she looked over her shoulder at him and said, “Don’t be so stressed about it, honey. So what if they canceled their policies? The same way you got them to sign on, you can find others to sign on.”
“It’s not that easy, baby.”
“Please tell me what in life is easy?” She shrugged her shoulders. “I mean, if it’s about money, don’t worry. I still have plenty of savings left in my account, and we have more than enough in our joint account. Plus, I have this huge wedding to do this upcoming weekend, and I actually got a letter today from the governor’s secretary. She wants me to concoct a sample menu for the governor’s induction ceremony.”
“And that’s all good news,” Greg said, nodding his head, “but, babe, I told you about the rumor going around the job. My policies keep getting canceled. My clients keep pulling out. This is not a good look. If Mutual Living does decide to downsize, I’ll be the first one out the door.”
“Can you stop with all this negativity?” Shania stood to her feet and stared at her husband, shaking her head. “You are a minister. You of all people should know that you have to look at things with eyes of faith, and right now, you are not speaking life. You are speaking death. And furthermore, if you are praying about the situation, which I hope you are, then you need to let it go, because worry cancels out prayer.”
“You’re right. You are right,” Greg said, nodding. “Thanks, babe, for reminding me who I am, and whose I am. I needed that.” She watched him shut down the computer and stand to his feet. “Instead of that thriller movie, let’s go see a comedy. I feel like we both need a good laugh.”
When Greg came near her, he brushed past her, leaving the faint scent of his Euphoria cologne behind, reminding Shania of how good he smelled. The fragrance affected her like an aphrodisiac. She felt like ripping his clothes off. She grabbed ahold of his muscular arm, and he tilted his head in her direction.
“You get me started again,” he said, “and you can cancel going to the movies.”
The thought did sound appealing, but she decided to hold off on it. She and Greg had been going at it like rabbits lately, and though she tried her best to take her birth control pills at the same time every single day, some days slipped her mind. She knew they were playing with fire, and though kids were definitely on the menu, she wanted to enjoy her full-course meal first.
Once she settled into the passenger seat of Greg’s Mercedes, Greg pressed the button to open the garage, and he backed out of the yard. As he passed by his motorcycle, he touched her hand and said, “Baby, I was wrong for not talking to you first, okay? In the future, I’ll consult with you on all major issues. I promise.” His smile conveyed his level of sincerity.
Any anger that Shania may have been feeling melted like an ice cube sitting on top of a hot stove. Although she wasn’t thrilled about Greg having a motorcycle, she realized that she had no control over another adult. She couldn’t tell him what to do any more than she could stop him from doing something he really wanted to do. The ultimate decision remained his. She patted his chest, and he flexed a toned pec. They both seemed amused.
“You don’t regret getting married, do you?” Shania asked, believing she already knew the answer. She just wanted to hear him say it.
“Of course not, baby.” He shook his head. “You’re my rib. Don’t ever doubt my love for you. He who finds a wife finds a good thing. That’s biblical, baby. Can’t argue with God.”
Greg’s words made her weak in the knees. Every time she thought of herself as his wife, her insides quivered. Holding his arm a little tighter, Shania teased, “And don’t you ever forget it.”
They left for the movie theater and enjoyed the two hour action-comedy film, filling up on buttered popcorn and soda.
Shania preferred romantic comedies. Since it was Greg’s birthday, she let him pick the movie and sucked it up. She found herself enjoying the movie more than she cared to admit and jumped at the explosions. She dared not tell Greg, because she didn’t want him dragging her to those types of movies on a regular basis.
After the movie, they went back home and changed clothes. They were ready for a game of tennis. They ran around the community court, sweating and panting. After serving the match point, Greg rejoiced in his victory while Shania pretended to pout.
“You know I let you win, right?” Shania joked as she guzzled some bottled water. “Since it’s your birthday, I didn’t want to beat you too bad.”
With his racket, Greg gave Shania a playful smack on the rear end and burst out laughing. “Beat that.” He took off running.
“Oh no, you didn’t,” she yelled as she sprinted behind him all the way home.
As soon as they walked through the door, the cool air hit them in their faces like a towel and dried their sweat. The air-conditioned house was a welcomed contrast to the seventy-eight humid degrees they had just escaped.
They made their way to the upstairs bathroom, took off their clothes, and showered together. Shania then filled up the Jacuzzi and turned on the bubble jets. Feeling romantic, Shania put in an old-school, baby-making CD and lit sugar cookie scented candles, her preferred candle scent. She submerged her body into the bubbling tub, whe
re Greg was already waiting for her, and closed her eyes as she leaned her head back.
“This feels so good.” She relaxed every muscle in her body as Greg massaged her foot. He gave the most incredible foot rubs. They tended to put her to sleep. His hands felt magical. “Are you enjoying your birthday so far?”
He sucked her big toe, sending chills up and down her spine, and she giggled. Her eyes sprung open, and she gave Greg a “come hither” look. She couldn’t believe how much Greg turned her on. He released her foot, and she sat up, exposing her bare skin to the elements. She straddled Greg and enjoyed the intimacy that soon followed.
Two hours had passed and they had taken their act to the bedroom and fallen into a deep slumber. Awakened by the telephone ringing, Shania noticed that the time read 4:00 P.M. She reached across her husband and answered the phone.
Her sister said in her high nasal tone, “It’s four o’clock in the afternoon. I know you’re not sleep.”
Shania yawned. “Yeah, I dozed off. What do you want?”
“I just wanted to let you know that Jonathan and I will meet you at the restaurant for Greg’s birthday dinner.”
Shania slapped her forehead with her open palm. “God, I’m so glad you called. Greg wore me out. I almost forgot about dinner.” She got out of bed, careful not to cause any noticeable movement, and put on a robe. She glanced at her husband who looked so peaceful with his long lashes resting against his smooth, creamy peanut-butter-colored skin; then she tiptoed out of the room.
Shania confirmed that they had six o’clock reservations at the Sun Dial, Atlanta’s only tri-level dining complex featuring a revolving upscale restaurant. She had selected the Sun Dial because that was where she and Greg went on their first date, and the restaurant offered a breathtaking 360-degree panoramic view of the city’s skyline.
Cheyenne told her that she and her husband, Jonathan, were already two and a half hours into their three-and-a-half-ride from Valdosta and assured Shania that they’d be on time.
