by Tiana Laveen
“You don’t deserve to have this conversation with me.”
“Do you scream ’nd fight? Do you move your beautiful, soft body real slow and sensual against your lover or just lie back kind of submissive and take it?”
“You will never know.”
“Oh come on, give me a itty bitty nibble, baby…” And then, it was confirmed. She could hear his wicked smile through the phone. The bastard wasn’t taking a damn word of it seriously, so, she did what any woman in her position would do. She ignored the moisture between her thighs and colored him a damn fool.
“I tell you what, Melissa. I will sit down and have a talk with a black man here, okay?”
She said nothing – simply looked out the window, her lips twisted, and the anger inside her continuing to grow.
“I promise. If it will make you feel better, I’ll do just that.”
“Why are you willing to do this for me, Aaron?”
After a long pause, he answered. “…Because I love you, darlin’ and something tells me you’re worth it.”
“I am, but this is for you… way more than it is for me.”
“Nothing is goin’ to change, but I’ll do it, just like I said.”
“You’re going into it all wrong.” She sighed and closed her eyes in pure exasperation. “It looks as if we have ten minutes left.”
“Yeah, we do. Look.” He cleared his throat. “I need you to keep those letters coming… the poems, your memories, things like that. I need you to keep sharing with me, and I need to be able to share with you. So, if me sittin’ down and talkin’ to a black man will help you in some way, I’ll do it. If you think it’ll help me, too, then I’ll give it a try. You mean somethin’ to me, Melissa. You’re not a crush to me. You got my whole goddamn heart, woman.”
“What am I to you, Aaron?”
“…Every piece of calm I’ve ever had, rolled into one. You’re the reason I push myself to keep goin’, ’cause I have to see you and in order to see you, I gotta get out of here, ’specially since you won’t come to visit me.”
She took a deep breath and looked helplessly back out the window.
“I don’t want to see you locked up. When we meet, I want you to be free,” she lied, hating that she had to do it, but she had no other choice.
“I know I have to win your love, and it’s hard, Melissa, because… well, a big part of who I am you don’t appreciate too much.”
“That’s just the thing though, Aaron. I don’t believe it’s a big part of you. I don’t believe that at all.” She fidgeted in her seat. “Maybe it’s wishful thinking on my part. Maybe I’m just a fool… but no matter what, you make me want to help you.”
“I don’t want to be your charity case, Melissa.” An air of sadness lingered in his tone.
“You’re not, well, maybe a little bit of you is. I can’t deny that is not completely out of the equation. A bigger part is the fact that you mean something to me, and I can see greatness in you… wonderful, beautiful, greatness. I gravitate towards you. I want to be a part of the good stuff within you, Aaron…and there’s so much of it.”
“Goddamn it, you make me love you so hard, baby. I want you in my life…”
“And I want to be in it. All that energy you use to do the stuff you do – do you know how incredible you’d be if you poured that into more positive expressions and work? I’ve never come across anyone like you in my life… I know that you are one in a million. These problems you have, they can be fixed.”
“I don’t think I need to be fixed.”
“We all need to be fixed, Aaron, in one way or another.”
He offered nothing for another moment or two.
“Some people are sayin’ I do…you know, needin’ fixed.” He cleared his throat, as if suddenly uncomfortable.
“And now, you are second guessing it?”
“I might be… I don’t know. My therapist said something to me that kinda hit home one time.”
“What?”
“He said that uh, he said that I know something is wrong with me.”
“You do… I know you do, Aaron.”
“Yeah, you’re right, sweetheart… you’re right.”
She hung her head, fought back the damn tears; another brick in his wall had been removed. The false bravado was slowly melting away, exposing the little boy lost in the woods… looking for Daddy, looking for Mama, looking to be found and loved on hard…
…He’s still lost.
“I hated that he said that to me, but it was true. I’ve always known something wasn’t right with me, Melissa. Not lack of control, nothin’ like that. It was something else. Something ugly, hard, and just plain wicked… I didn’t expect to be talking to you about this. It don’t exactly put me in a good light. I wanted to discuss other stuff, flirt, have you describe what you cooked last night to me – that’s almost better than porn.”
She grinned into the phone.
“You are flirting with me, by talking just like this. You just don’t know it.”
“Hmmm, I like how you talk, Melissa… my angel… You’re different. You don’t write like everybody else, don’t sound like everyone else, either. You lost your cool though; it happens. You don’t like what’s been goin’ on… you had the right to tell me. I can’t be mad about that. You’ve got talent, you’re helpful, loving – you made it too damn hard to not fall for you.”
She raised her hand in the air, looked at it from various angles and pretended she was touching his face, running her palm down the side of his hard jaw, making that beast of a man melt, and leaving the true Aaron alone and behind for her to embrace, care for, and love on…
“I figured loving myself, my race, was a good way to approach it, to try and fight that ugliness inside. Pride… if I didn’t have anything else, I had my pride, you know? Pride is tricky though. It helps sometimes, keeps you strong. At other times, it makes you weak. I’m at a crossroads… I think that’s why I’ve been holding on for so long; I got too much to lose. But baby, if I don’t reexamine myself and finish this process, I won’t gain anything new, either. It’s…it’s just not working anymore. I’ve been through a lot, Melissa…”
“I know that you have. I can feel it, hear it in your words on paper, too…”
“You have me sayin’ shit on this phone I’ve never said to anybody… have me writing things I’ve never written, either. Do you know that I hadn’t written a poem in damn near fifteen years? After we started talking, I got back to writing them again. You inspired me… I feel like I’m going against everything right now, but I’m so afraid of losing you. I don’t want to lose you; you mean too much to me.”
“Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear, Aaron.”
“I’m not… I’m tellin’ you what I was afraid to tell myself…”
He exhaled loudly, and she did the same. Then, they used up a moment of time, a silent minute cashed in for the sake of solace. Perhaps it had been spent unwisely, or maybe it was well expended.
“Our time is almost up. When can I talk to you again, baby?”
“Whenever you want.” She smiled into the phone, feeling a flush of heat take over her face as ‘school girl’ butterflies jumped around in her gut. “Just let me know in advance, and I’ll make it happen.”
“I could talk to you all day, for hours, and never get tired. I want to be able to look into your golden eyes, soon. We got the same color eyes I bet.”
Not quite. Yours are much lighter…
But she kept the thoughts to herself.
“Maybe.” She crossed her legs, feeling the wetness increasing second by second.
“You know what I dreamed about the other night?”
“What?”
“Makin’ love to you… It was just perfect, baby. I got outta here, and I drove up the long driveway you told me you have, in my old pickup truck. I could hear the rocks ’nd such crunchin’ under my tires. I slowed a bit, took a look at your mailbox with your last name written ac
ross it in crooked, white painted letters: ‘Weber.’”
She leaned back in her seat, feeling a surge of discomfort as he stole her out of her zone for a spell, brought her untruths back into the forefront. “And then what else, honey?”
“I looked at it, and imagined my own name bein’ on that box, too… right next to yours. And then I pulled up a bit closer to your house. You described it so well in your letters, took so much pride in it that I can see it so clearly in my mind, sweetness. Anyway, I park my truck. And I get out, close my door with my hip and try to not make a big ruckus ’cause I want to surprise you.”
“Surprise me?” She grinned, falling back into the moment. “What for?”
“’Cause it’s your birthday… and I got two armfuls of presents, all shiny and pretty, full of all of your favorite things in the whole damn world. I climb up your steps, almost lose my balance, even on the one that needs repair… I’ll take care of that for you when I get outta here.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle… Damn, his memory is good.
“I got up there to that front door, and smell that food you’re cooking. It’s wafting out, and then—”
“Aaron. Your time is up.”
“Oh, hold on, baby.” She heard the phone become muffled, but could still hear his words. “Dr. Owens, just five or six more minutes, please? I promise I won’t go any further than that. We’re just havin’ a really good conversation is all.”
She smiled at the change in his tone, like a child begging their father for a brand new bike. Aaron, you really can lay it on thick…
“Alright, but that’s it.”
“Thank you so much, Dr. Owens, really ’preciate it.”
“Alright baby, sorry about that. Where was I?”
“You smell my cooking…”
“Yeah, it’s wafting out the door…smells like peach cobbler, ’nd Coca Cola cake, and barbecue chicken with all the fixins! My stomach is rumbling and I snatch the screen door open with a shaky hand, tryna balance all those presents against my chest, but then you open that door and jump around, a big smile on your face, all excited to see me. I kiss your sweet…sweet…lips, baby…”
They both drew quiet then, riding on each other’s sighs…
“You say somethin’ like, ‘Is this all for me?’ Knowin’ damn well it is…”
She burst out laughing. “That actually sounds like something I’d say.”
“And I tell you yeah, and you help me unload ’em in your kitchen… It’s to the left of the front door, right?”
“…Yes, yes it is.”
“So they tumble about, fallin’ all over the place. I pick ’em up and watch you saunter off back to the stove. You got on a red dress, and your black hair is flowin’ down your back in real pretty spirals…like black ribbon, like the glossy ties on the gifts. I’m watching you move your arms about and you have pots on each and every oven eye… Wait, you got gas, right?”
“Yes.” She was once again duly impressed with the man’s memory.
“So, I see those flames under all of those pots goin’ to town, keepin’ all them pans percolatin’. You got candles lit, girly things, sweet things all around, and your perfume is on my upper lip, lingerin’ from our kiss. I can smell you, even over all that wonderful food…and it makes me… makes me want to take you outta there, haul you off to your bedroom, Melissa… So I… creep up… real slow… behind you. I wrap my arms around your waist… and I…” She heard the man draw a breath, and she drew one, too. “And I squeeze you real tight to me, bunch the fabric of your dress into my fists as I draw you close.
“You lay your head against my chest and I reach low and kiss your neck. My hands travel up and down your back… up and down, cause I’m tryna tell myself to leave you alone, you know? It’s your birthday, and you’re cookin’ hot food on the stove but… I just can’t let you go, sweetness… I just…can’t let you go.”
Mia closed her eyes as she ran her hands up and down her chest, feeling her flesh heating from her own touch. She wished and prayed at that moment that her fingers were actually his, and his sweet words were a prediction of true things to come.
“I can almost feel you holding me, Aaron… I can smell you; the heat from your body is driving me crazy.”
He swallowed, then continued.
“I turn you around, make you face me and look down at you, baby. I tell you that I need you… You look up at me, catch my drift and do what needs to be done. You turn them pilot lights off, take my hand, and walk me down that long, narrow hallway with the arched ceilings and the beaten floorboards that get to sighin’ from our steps. I follow behind you, like some lovesick puppy dog, Melissa… and that ain’t a far cry, because I’d follow you to the ends of the Earth and beyond…”
Oh Lord… he’s killing me…
“You open your bedroom door real slow… step inside, and I step inside, too. Then I close the door behind us with one hand, and with the other, I reach for the buttons of my shirt…and then…then I…I make real good love to you, baby… all night long…make your body sing to mine. We become one.”
She blinked several times, trying to pull herself out of the lullaby of his tender words, but who was she kidding? He’d taken her somewhere so wonderful and divine, the proper words to describe such a scenario couldn’t even come to her mind. Her emotions landed in an area she was completely unfamiliar with… Some place where the very essence of poetry was first created, and joyous tears were cast into some silver, sparkling river bubbling forth from the hearty laughter of drunken angels…
“I love you somethin’ awful, Melissa. You have no idea. You’re real… authentic… Yeah, that’s what I need… I need YOU.”
A wave of guilt flooded her. He wasn’t making these things up. Aaron was telling the damn truth and it hadn’t become so clear until that very moment. She’d been determined to help him, then teach him a lesson after he’d announced his hideous affiliations, but now… now things were just a mess. Confusion reigned supreme.
How can I ever explain to him that I’m not who he thinks I am, but everything, besides my race, is all true? Everything I told him, feel for him – it’s all true!
“Melissa?” She snapped out of her wayward thoughts, but the guilt remained close to her heart.
“Yes?”
“We’ll do this again soon. I’m not sayin’ goodbye to you. I refuse to. I will say, ‘Until next time’.”
“Yes, until next time.”
“I’m gonna dream good tonight! Where’s my goddamn lotion at? Whew!” He cackled, and then, the call was over.
Mia held the phone a little tighter, and then, her head hit the damn desk. In trying to keep up appearances, the lies got harder each day; everything was changing, turning in the wrong damn direction. And yet, no matter how many times she told herself to hang up right then and there, vow to never write the man again, make a clean break, she simply couldn’t.
I’m so selfish. But I can’t stop. I want him… I love him! How do I make this right?!
Chapter Thirteen
THE SOUND OF someone typing on a computer filled the place. Dr. Owens had someone on speakerphone when he’d walked into the room.
“Okay, just let me know when you find out.”
“Okay, no problem.”
Dr. Owens disconnected the call and offered a kindly grin.
“Have a seat, Aaron.”
He did as requested, scooting in a bit close.
“So, we never really talked about it. You seemed in a bit of a hurry after your phone call, but how did it go yesterday?” He smiled.
“It went good, pretty damn good. She’s somethin’.” He nodded, unable to wipe the smile off his face. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you and she were in cahoots!” He laughed.
“What do you mean?”
“She thinks a lot like you… thinks I shouldn’t be doing what I’m doing. She speaks in big words, sounds real fancy and classy. I like that, actually. Best of all, she
loves me, Dr. Owens.”
The man looked at him quizzically.
“I made a deal with her, too; something I don’t want to do, but I’m going to do it because she asked me to.”
“And what’s that?”
“I’d prefer not to say.”
“Hmmm, top secret?”
“Nothin’ illegal or anything like that,” Aaron assured. “You’d approve. I just don’t want to discuss it right now.”
“That’s fine, I can respect that. Now, today I wanted to discuss more of what happened after you were taken out of your mother’s custody.”
“Yes, okay.” Aaron nodded agreeably. For the first time in weeks, he wasn’t sitting on pins and needles in that man’s office. He wasn’t itching out of his own damn skin, begging for emotional relief, despite keeping a stone face. The mind fucking became easier to take, a hell of a lot less painful over time…
“Well.” He slapped his thighs as he began. “Patti ended up fighting in the courts with two of our uncles and an aunt, too, all of them trying to get custody after my father died. They’d get money for us if they took us in.”
“Your father is deceased?”
“Yup.”
“Oh, okay.” Dr. Owens opened his notebook, and began to jot notes. “And you feel okay about this, Aaron? You didn’t mention it all this time. You spoke about him as if he were still alive.”
“Wasn’t shit to say.” He shrugged. “He got what he had comin’ to him.”
“Hmmm, do you know how he died?”
“He was murdered by a so-called good friend of his over some loan owed. As I told you before, he was a reckless gambler, spent up all of our money. We barely had the basic necessities thanks to him.” He frowned. “Something surprising happened, though. My old man died and left us some money he hadn’t touched. It was in a savings account and he had a buddy that was the manager of this bank, an old army friend of his. He made that man promise him that, no matter what, he’d never let him withdraw money from it under any circumstances. He said it was for when he died, for his kids. We’d split it three ways and there could be no exceptions.
