Passion by the Book

by Pamela Yaye

  Simone stood still for a moment, listening. She heard the television, but nothing else. It wasn’t often that Jayden and Jordan occupied the same space peacefully and since she hadn’t heard a peep from them since they went into the living room, she knew something was awry. Either they had snuck off to her bedroom or they were outside in the backyard eating snow.

  Hurrying down the hall, as fast as her feet could take her, she called out their names. When Simone entered the living room and saw Jayden and Jordan, she stopped short. Not only were they sitting on the same couch; they were talking nicely to each other and wearing big smiles. Jayden was curled up underneath his blanket reading a book, and Jordan was playing with his toy trucks.

  “How are you guys doing?”

  “Good,” Jordan said, glancing up from his toy bucket. “Mom, can I have some chips?”

  “No, you just ate dinner.”

  “But I’m still hungry.”

  Jayden gave a vigorous nod of his head. “Me, too. I’m starving.”

  “Okay, then I’ll bring you some grapes.”

  “No, thanks,” Jordan replied, puckering his lips. “Just the chips.”

  Laughing to herself, Simone leaned over and ruffled his hair. If it wasn’t salty or crunchy, Jayden wasn’t interested. Watching her sons play, she wondered how anyone could ever confuse them. They dressed differently, spoke differently and had very different personalities, but just yesterday, their kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Owosu-Daniels, had confessed that after one full week of school she still couldn’t tell them apart. To help her, Simone had the boys stand side by side, and pointed at their eyes. Jordan’s were wide, expressive, the darkest shade of brown there was, while Jayden’s were narrow and tinged with specks of gray. The first-year teacher had thanked her profusely and promised to stop mixing them up.

  “I hope Daddy comes home soon,” Jayden said softly. “I miss him.”

  So do I, Simone thought but didn’t say. Every night at six o’clock, Marcus called from Atlanta to check in, and every night Simone found an excuse not to talk to him. She didn’t want to rehash what happened in Manchester or argue about her new job, either. Tomorrow was her first day at Friendship House, and although she was nervous about rejoining the workforce after a five-year absence, she was excited about working at the nonprofit center. And now that Simone had reliable child care lined up for the boys, she was feeling more confident about her decision.

  “Can Dad take us to play air hockey when he gets home?” Jordan smashed two trucks together, making the appropriate sound effects.

  “I don’t know. It’s almost six-thirty and you boys have to be at school tomorrow.”

  “But he promised!”

  “Maybe you guys can go on the weekend—”

  Simone heard heavy footsteps on the hardwood floor. Jayden and Jordan scrambled to their feet and tore down the hall, laughing and shrieking as they went. The boys adored their dad, loved him more than anything in the world, and the feeling was definitely mutual. After growing up without a father, Simone often wondered how different life would be if her dad had been around. Maybe I wouldn’t depend on Marcus so much or crave his affection the way I do.

  Her gaze fell across their wedding picture proudly displayed on the mantel. To this day, no one knew that she was pregnant when they had eloped to the Dominican Republic, and whenever Simone looked at that photograph, her heart murmured a sigh of happiness. Given the chance, she’d marry Marcus all over again. He was charming and fun, attentive and loving, and although he could be insensitive at times, there was no one else she wanted to spend her life with.

  “Mommy, look what Daddy bought me!” Jayden waved the Toy Story play pack wildly in the air. “It has glow-in-the-dark stickers and everything!”

  “That’s great.”

  “Daddy brought you something, too, Mommy. Come see!”

  Simone didn’t move. Not a muscle. Why should she? The last time she saw Marcus he’d been cold and condescending, and even though she’d promised herself she wouldn’t bring up their argument, she was still hurt about the things he’d said.

  Marcus entered the living room with shopping bags in his hands and Jordan swinging from his back, screeching like a howler monkey. “Look at me! I’m the king of the world!”

  The boys cracked up.

  Simone found a smile and spread it on her lips. “Hey. How are you?”

  “Hey yourself. You’re looking gorgeous as usual.”

  Marcus bent down and brushed his lips against her cheek. He made sure to rest his hand on her neck, at the spot he knew drove her wild. Simone shivered and rubbed her hands over her arms. Dammit, he looked good. Clean-shaven, tailored suit, shoes buffed to perfection and sporting that wide, boyish grin that whipped her body into a frenzy every damn time.

  Simone dodged his gaze. She had to be strong, had to ignore the warmth of his silky caress along her shoulders. They had to talk, and Simone didn’t want her judgment to be clouded. But once they cleared the air, there would be plenty of time for makeup sex. Because Lord knew she wanted some. Even though she was hurt about the things he’d said, she still desired him. Marcus was her dream, her world, the only man who could make her body sing, and every time he looked at her she envisioned them making sweet love.

  “How was your trip?” she asked, shaking the image of his hard, naked body from her mind. “Did you have a good time at Career Week?”

  “It was all right. It would’ve been better if you were there, though.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  Running his eyes down her chest, he wet his lips with seductive flair.

  Simone knew that look. Knew they weren’t talking about the seafood pasta she’d made for dinner. Her husband was in the mood, raring to go, and she could almost see the sexual energy radiating off his smooth, brown skin.

  “I missed you, babe. That’s why I came home a couple days early.”

  Simone wasn’t buying it. Not this time. If she was so near and dear to his heart, the woman he claimed to love, he never would have ditched her in Manchester. “I’m glad you had a safe trip. The boys have been asking about you nonstop.”

  “I missed these little rug rats, too.”

  Jordan and Jayden giggled, laughed like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.

  “I almost forgot, these are for you.” Marcus held out the shopping bags, gestured for her to take them. “I hope everything fits.”

  “This is a lot of stuff. What did you buy?”

  “Just a few things I thought you’d like.”

  Simone took the bags and rested them at her feet. “Thanks.”

  “You’re not going to open them?”

  “I will, after I give the boys a bath and put them to bed.”

  Marcus looped an arm around Jayden’s neck. “I can do it.”

  “Yay!” Jayden and Jordan cheered. “We can play with our bath toys!”

  Simone raised an eyebrow. Her husband—the same man who’d once fainted while changing Jordan’s diaper—was offering to do the dreaded bedtime routine? Wonders never cease, she thought, returning his smile. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. Go upstairs and unwind. I’ll be up in a few.”

  Scared he would change his mind, Simone kissed the boys good-night, scooped up the shopping bags and hightailed it out of the room as fast as her slipper-clad feet could take her.

  Ten minutes later, Simone was in the master bedroom, having a one-woman fashion show. Blouses, skirts and belts were scattered across the bed, and a half-dozen pair of designer shoes covered the carpet.

  Reaching into a glitzy shopping bag, Simone took out a black one-shoulder dress and admired the flattering cut. Her eyes widened. It looked like the same dress she’d tried on at the hotel boutique in Manchest
er. A frown furrowed her cheeks. No way! It couldn’t be!

  Rummaging through the shopping bags, Simone searched and searched until she found what she was looking for. Bingo! The receipt confirmed it. Marcus had bought the clothes in Manchester. Simone’s heart softened. That’s why I didn’t see him before I left for the airport, she thought, her mind replaying that last morning in Manchester. I thought Marcus was avoiding me, but he was in the hotel boutique shopping.

  Simone had mixed feelings. She was flattered that Marcus had shopped for her, but she wished he had taken the time to resolve things before he left for Atlanta. After all, hadn’t she told Marcus time and time again that she didn’t need any more expensive gifts? All she needed was him. That was it. He was all she’d ever wanted, all she’d ever need.

  “Dad, can I bring my water guns into the tub?”

  “Sure, why not? We’ll have a good old-fashioned shoot-out!”

  Cheers filled the air.

  Simone heard water running, splashing, and wondered how long and messy bath time was going to be. Marcus wouldn’t be finished anytime soon, but instead of trying on the remaining items in the bags, Simone went into the bathroom.

  Humming softly, she grabbed her lighter and lit the incense sticks positioned around the tub. One good deed deserves another, she thought, repeating her great-grandmother’s favorite quote. And after we smooth everything over, I’m going to put it on him!

  * * *

  Marcus flew up the staircase. Breathing heavily, like a thief running from the law, he charged into the master bedroom in search of his wife. He saw the light on in the bathroom, knew she was probably luxuriating in the tub and stripped off his clothes, one designer layer at a time.

  After putting Jayden and Jordan to bed, he’d gone into the kitchen to grab a bite to eat. But when he smelled incense burning and heard jazz music playing, he’d abandoned his food.

  Loosening his tie, he unbuttoned his dress shirt and kicked off his shoes. The air was perfumed with a rich, fragrant scent, and it brought to mind their luxurious suite at the Chateau LeBlanc. Marcus dragged a hand down his face and shook his head. Leaving Simone at the resort was a mistake, no, a boneheaded thing to do. He had to make it up to her, had to show her how sorry he was, how bad he felt.

  Cracking open the bathroom door, Marcus stood there for a moment, watching her. Simone had bubbles up to her neck, an expression of pure contentment on her face and a piece of fruit between her lips. Two glasses of wine and a bowl of chocolate-covered strawberries sat on the ledge. But it wasn’t the tantalizing aromas in the air that made his mouth wet, it was the sight of his wife, looking sexy and delectable. “Is there room for me?”

  “Always,” she said in a sensuous voice.

  Water splashed onto the bath mat when he sat down in the warm, soapy water. Ah, this is the life. Teddy Pendergrass was playing, infecting the room with his rich, soul-stirring vocals and creating a romantic mood. Streaks of moonlight coursed through the windows, showering the bathroom with a golden-white light. Stretched out, Marcus felt the tension in his shoulders and lower back float away like the bubbles surrounding him.

  Leaning forward, he drew his fingertips in a gentle caress along her arm. Her head was back, resting against the tile wall, but he saw her quick intake of breath. Stroking Simone’s hands wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel her warmth, her closeness, wanted to run his fingers through her long, silky hair. Marcus cupped her face, cradled it in his hands like it was the Hope Diamond. “I shouldn’t have gone to Atlanta.”

  “You’re right. You shouldn’t have.”

  “You’re not going to make this easy for me, huh?”

  Simone shook her head, but a smile warmed her lips.

  “What do you think of the outfits? They’re a peace offering. My way of saying sorry about what happened in Manchester.”

  “I know. I love everything you bought, but I wish you had talked to me instead of going shopping. I need you, Marcus, just you, not shoes or bags or dresses.”

  Nodding, he brushed his thumb slowly across her cheeks. He planted soft, light kisses on her flesh. Her lips curled into a dreamy smile, and when he sucked her earlobe into his mouth, a purr fell from her mouth. “It looks like I’m going to have to call in sick tomorrow,” he announced, flashing a dirty little grin, “because I plan to make love to you all night long.”

  “Is that right?”

  “It sure is. Your ass is mine for the next twenty-four hours!” Marcus rubbed his hands over her shoulders, stroking her skin the way she liked. “After I drop the boys off at school we’ll spend the rest of the day in bed—”

  “I start work tomorrow, remember?”

  Marcus furrowed his eyebrows. “You took that job without discussing it with me first?”

  “We did discuss it.”

  “And I told you I didn’t like the idea of you returning to work.”

  Determined not to lose her cool, she straightened and took a deep breath. “Marcus, I’m only working twenty hours a week,” she explained, her tone even, calm. “Nothing’s going to change around here. I’ll still take the boys to school every day and pick them up.”

  “And what happens when you have to work late?”

  “Your mom offered to babysit.”

  Anger darkened his face. “So, everybody knows about your new job except me?”

  “It’s not like that,” Simone argued, growing frustrated with his woe-is-me attitude. “When I picked up the kids last Sunday Gladys encouraged me to bring them over more. And—” she stressed, leaning heavily on the word “—she promised to follow the schedule, too! Only time will tell, but your mom seemed really sincere.”

  “You’re always complaining about how busy you are, so why get a job?”

  Simone paused, trying to think of a fitting rebuttal. Nothing came to mind. Working part-time was going to disrupt their family, but she loved the idea of helping abused women get back on their feet and finally putting her social work degree to good use. “I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to make this work, even if it means losing sleep or ditching my early morning classes.” Simone laughed and added, “Actually, I’d love to skip Hot Yoga. That class is a killer!”

  “I can’t believe you.”

  Her laughter dried up. “You can’t believe me?”

  “We agreed that you’d resume your career once we were finished having kids, but now you’re dead set against having another child. Isn’t expanding our family more important than taking some crummy, low-paying job?”

  Leaping out of the tub, Simone snatched a towel off the metal rack and swathed it around her waist. Gritting her teeth, she listened in steely silence as Marcus argued his point. Anger gained control of her mouth, and if not for fear of waking up the boys, she would have lashed back in high definition. Cutting him off midword, she accused him of being a hypocrite.

  “It’s not about the money, it’s about doing something I love. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?” she jeered, throwing his words back in his face. “Isn’t that why you still train your celebrity clients, why you applied for that job with the Chicago Bears and the reason why you left me high and dry in Manchester—”

  “Oh, that’s what this is about. You accepted that case manager position to stick it to me.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I applied for the job weeks ago.”

  “Sure you did,” he drawled, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “To get back at me for ending our trip early, you accepted that job knowing full well I don’t want you to work.”

  “This isn’t about you, Marcus. It’s about me doing something I love....”

  Marcus tuned out. Given the chance, Simone could spend hours on end talking about the families she counseled. As a child raised in poverty himself, he appreciated the care and concern she showed to those in need, but he w
asn’t behind her decision. Chicago’s South Side was no place for Simone to be during the day, let alone after dark. And in no time her twenty-hour week would be a sixty-hour workweek. He’d seen it happen to his friends’ wives, and he didn’t want it happening to Simone. No, he wasn’t going to let that happen.

  “Counseling others makes me feel alive, like I’m making a difference,” she confessed. “Next to being a wife and mother, it’s the best job in the world, the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do.”

  Closing his open mouth, he swallowed his stinging retort. Marcus didn’t speak. What could he say? He’d married a caring, compassionate woman who lived to help others, a woman who’d do anything for someone in need. Just like his mom. Gladys had worked two, sometimes three jobs just to make ends meet, and she routinely went without so that he and his siblings didn’t have to. Marcus never forgot seeing his mother struggle, or the pain of being shuffled back and forth between babysitters. He didn’t want that life for his sons. He didn’t tell Simone the truth—that her working outside the home shattered his image of the perfect family. No, he couldn’t do that. Mustering his enthusiasm, he said what any loving husband would say. “Congratulations on the new job, Simone.” His voice sounded hollow, and the stiffness of his tone betrayed his true feelings. “If returning to work makes you happy, then I won’t stand in your way.”

  “How noble of you,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes.

  “Whatever. Just take the job. The boys and I can manage without you.”

  Simone opened her mouth and spoke so calmly, so quietly, she didn’t recognize her own voice. “These days, all we seem to do is argue and fight, and I’m getting tired of it,” she said. “Maybe it would help if we talked to someone. Angela told me about a really great—”

  He cut in. “I’m not interested in seeing a shrink.”