A Different Kind of Blues

by Gwynne Forster

  “Gee, it’s beautiful,” she told the salesman of the four-door, glistening white Mercury Montego. “I thought I was getting a Ford. This is a much better deal than the one you first offered, a better car for the same money.”

  “When it came in, I thought of you at once,” the salesman said. She got in, drove the car around the block, and brought it back to the man.

  “You have my down payment,” she said and wrote a check for the remainder of the price. “I want to be able to say I don’t owe anybody a red cent,” she added with pride. Only a few weeks earlier, she’d been mired in debt and unable to see her way out of it. Never again; if she couldn’t pay for it, she wouldn’t buy it.

  The brother showed her a perfect set of white teeth. “You won’t catch me saying no to honest money. Enjoy it.”

  She got into the driver’s seat, closed the door, hooked her seat belt, leaned back in her car, and grinned. She looked at the registration. It was hers all right. She headed past the B&O Railroad Station, the oldest railroad station in America, thinking that whoever planned Ellicott City didn’t really have a city in mind and that its quaint beauty happened accidentally. She arrived at the Baltimore Center for Wellness after using twice the amount of gasoline that a straight route would have required. She waited in front of the building until she saw her mother emerge from the front door and honked the horn.

  “Mama,” she called, but Lena didn’t look in her direction. After calling once more to no avail, she yelled, “Lena!” and opened the front door.

  Lena approached with both hands on her hips. “Well, do tell!

  I thought you’d bought a little old secondhand car. This is brand new, and it’s a big one, too. Well, I never!”

  “It’s a used one, Mama. I thought I’d give you a ride home.”

  “Cloudy as it’s getting, I’m sure glad you did. Well, I do declare if we ain’t got a car in the family. Can you beat this!”

  “Now, I can drop you off at work.”

  “That’ll save me a lot of bus fare. I was gon’ stop by the market and get some sage sausage for supper, but—”

  “We can drop by there,” Petra said, aware that her mother hadn’t nagged her about it as was her habit. “What else do we need?”

  “Well, while we’re there, we could get some wild catfish. It tastes a lot better than the fish they cultivate down in Mississippi. You probably can’t park around there, so I’ll get it,” Lena said.

  Petra sat in the car waiting for her mother and wondering what had happened to change the woman’s attitude. Ever since…So that was it! The source of Lena’s seeming contentment hit her suddenly, like a flash of lightning in a black sky. Being asked to live with her daughter and granddaughter had made her feel wanted.

  “Did they have any sausage, Mama?” she asked when Lena returned with her parcels.

  “Sure did, and they’d just made it. And these catfish looked as if they’d come out of the water, so I got some collards and sweet potatoes. We’ll have a feast.”

  An hour later as Lena cooked and hummed in the kitchen, Petra set the table in the dining room, thinking how much happier they could have been together if she had understood her mother’s emotional needs and personality. She answered the telephone.

  “Hi, Mom. Guess what?”

  “How are you, honey? Are you all right?”

  “Everything’s super. Peter and Paul are coming over to see me this weekend, and Dad’s going to take us on a tour of the city. Imagine me in the White House.”

  “That’s wonderful. Give them all my regards. I want you to have a good time, but remember why you’re there.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m planning to make the Dean’s List. If I make good grades, I’ll get into a lot of things, maybe even have a chance to spend a year abroad. It’s real deep, Mom. Only a dork is stupid enough to flunk out of college. What’s Grandma doing?”

  She released a breath of pure contentment; Krista’s head was still clear and straight. “Your grandmother is in the kitchen humming and cooking up a blue streak.”

  “Don’t tell me. I can practically smell it. Gotta go. Bye.”

  “Was that Krista? How’s she doing?” Lena called.

  “That was Krista, Mama, and she’s as level-headed as ever.”

  “Thank God. I wish I’d had half of her sense when I was her age. Be ready to eat in fifteen or twenty minutes.”

  Petra started up the stairs but turned back when the doorbell rang. Anxious for her safety in light of the incident at the courthouse that morning and also remembering the witness from whom Peter and Paul had protected her a few weeks earlier, she eased Krista’s fencing foil from its holder and went to the door. When the bell rang again, she slipped on the chain and cracked open the door.

  “Who is it?”

  “Is Petra Fields here? I’m Winston Fleet.”

  The foil dropped from her left hand, barely missing her foot. “Who…What did you say?”

  “Petra. Sweetheart, please open the door.”

  “Winston? Winston! Oh, my Lord! Winston!” she screamed.

  Lena came running from the kitchen holding a plastic spatula in front of her. “What’s the matter? Who is it?”

  “Oh, my goodness!” Petra said as awareness returned and, with it, her common sense. She slipped off the chain, flung the door wide open, and gaped at Winston. There he stood. In person. She opened her mouth, but not a word escaped. She stared at him, trembling uncontrollably.

  Then, he smiled, opened his arms, and she dived into them, living once more the magic, the wonder of being in his arms, arms as strong as she remembered, and his body as warm and as protective as it had been all those months ago.

  He locked her to him. Fiercely. Possessively. His words, “I love you,” soft and sweet were like fresh spring water in summer heat, giving her life.

  “Me too. Me too,” she said, and tears streamed from her eyes as she sobbed his name. “Winston. Oh, Winston.”

  He stared down into her face. “When I realized that you’d left me, I went half crazy. Don’t you understand what love means? I’m here for you for whatever time you have left. Let me share these days with you? I need to be with you to the end.”

  She remembered then that he didn’t know and gently pushed away from him. “Winston, I’m all right now. I’m well.”

  He stared at her until she could see doubt replacing compassion. “What are you saying? I thought—”

  She put her right index finger to his lips. “I continued down the coast to Santa Cruz, and then I got an urge to go home. But I wanted to see the King Historic Site, so I went first to Atlanta to pay my respects to that great man. I passed out on the street in front of Dr. King’s tomb and woke up in a hospital.”

  “And?” Winston said, his whole body seemingly primed for the news. He didn’t breathe.

  “The head neurological surgeon there didn’t agree with my original diagnosis. He said the tumor was operable, and he removed it. It was benign, and I’m fine.”

  Like a man strung out, he slumped against her. Then, he straightened up to his full height and, with his eyelids squeezed tight, held her close. “Thank God. I prayed, but only to see you again. I didn’t dare ask for this.”

  “Y’all acting like this right in the front door? Petra, for goodness sake, who is this man? Come inside here, mister. What the neighbors gon’ think?”

  Winston loosened his hold on Petra sufficiently to extend a hand to Lena. “I’m Winston Fleet, and I think you answered the phone when I called here one night about six weeks ago. I apologize if I woke you up.”

  Lena looked from Winston to her daughter. “Hmm. I wish you’d told me your name.”

  A grin crawled over his face. “I couldn’t. You hung up.”

  “Well, come on inside,” Lena said. “I hope you’re hungry, ’cause we just fixin’ to eat.”

  Winston gazed down into Petra’s eyes, drawing her to him as a magnet draws a nail, telling her without words that food was n
ot on his mind. And as if of its own volition, her left hand reached up, caressed his cheek, and then urged his face toward hers. His mouth touched her lips, shivers shot through her, and she didn’t try to control her shattered emotions as she trembled in his arms. His hands roamed over her arms, back, and shoulders as if reacquainting themselves with her body.

  Lena cleared her throat. “You’d better wash your hands and come to the table, Winston, before this gets out of hand and my supper gets cold.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said. He walked over, kissed Lena’s cheek, and grinned when her mouth became a gaping hole. “Where’s the washroom?”

  “Right around here,” she told him and beckoned him to follow her.

  Petra watched them as one would observe any unfolding drama or Broadway play, as an onlooker who had no role in the proceedings. So many times she had dreamed of being with Winston again and now, he was here. But was it real, or had she begun to hallucinate? She plodded toward the dining room and heard the water running in the bathroom. Yes, he was there in her house. How had she ever thought she could live without Winston Fleet?

  Lena put the food on the table, and the three of them sat down. After she offered the grace, Winston grasped their hands. “Lord, I didn’t dare ask for what you’ve given me, but I accept it with thanks, and I’ll try to take good care of it.”

  “Help yourself,” Lena said to Winston, “and then you two can tell me what’s going on here.”

  Winston told Lena their story. “All I knew was that she lived in a place called Ellicott City, and that she could be suffering someplace without friends or family to care for her. You can’t imagine how relieved I am.”

  Lena passed him a plate of hot buttered biscuits. “When she was telling me about her trip, she managed to skip everything about you. It’s all right, though. I’m glad you found her. If it had been me, I’d’a gone looking for you soon as that doctor said I was out of danger.”

  “I wanted to,” Petra said, “but considering the way I left him, I figured he’d gone on with his life. I did look up his number and call his house about a week ago, but no one answered, and I didn’t leave a message.”

  “I’d already left home with you as my final destination. I meant to find you or someone who knew what had happened to you.”

  “What do you do for a living, Winston?” Lena asked him.

  “I design modern furniture and home furnishings, ma’am.”

  “I see. Do you make a living at it? Here. Have another piece of this catfish.”

  “Thanks. My grandmother’s the only other person I know who can cook like this. These biscuits are unbelievably good, and this fish…Well…This meal is wonderful. Oh.” He stopped eating and looked directly at Lena. “Yes, ma’am. I make a very good living. I own my home, and I built a really nice home for my grandmother about ten miles from my place.”

  “Excuse me for a few minutes,” Petra said, went to her room and returned wearing the gold ring that Winston gave her.

  When he saw it, his eyes sparkled. “You still have it?”

  “Of course.” She handed Lena the picture taken of them in the restaurant beside the waterfall.

  “You look nice together,” Lena said. “Well, Winston, I can see you’re a solid man, but I hate to think of my only child so far from me.”

  “Plan to retire in Oakland, ma’am. I’ll see that you don’t want for anything.”

  “I believe you.” Lena went to the kitchen and returned with a raspberry trifle topped with vanilla ice cream.

  After supper, Winston cleared the table as if he’d done it there for years. “I’ll put the dishes in the dishwasher while you two talk about me,” he said with a wink.

  “He’s really something,” Lena said. “Just imagine having a man like that one!”

  “I know.” What Petra was about to say wouldn’t come out easily, for her mother was straight-laced, but she’d say it anyway. “Mama, if he’s registered in a hotel, I’m going with him, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “I kind of expected that,” Lena said. “Remember that when you give away everything, you got nothing left to bargain with.”

  At the moment, bargaining was not on Petra’s mind; time enough for that when he offered something.

  “Kitchen’s clean, at least by my standards,” Winston said when he joined them in the living room. He sat on the sofa beside Lena and took both of her hands in his. “This is probably improper, ma’am, but I do everything aboveboard. I’m registered at the Longacre, and I want to take Petra with me when I leave here.”

  Lena eyeballed him and, to Petra’s delight, Winston didn’t flinch. “That doesn’t surprise me,” she said, stood, and patted Winston’s shoulder. “Y’all grown people. Come back to supper tomorrow. Good night.”

  Petra stared at her mother’s departing back, her eyes wide and mouth agape. Lena Fields had just given Winston Fleet her blessings. He stood, spread his arms, and she didn’t wait for a verbal invitation. Wrapped in his embrace, she knew she’d been right, that she loved him and belonged with him.

  “This is weird,” he said, and she could feel the tension in him. “My grandmother’s psychic. She said you’d come back to California, and that I shouldn’t give up.”

  “That’s right. She also told me I’d be back there, but I didn’t give it any credence. I need to call my daughter.”

  He handed her his cell phone, and she dialed Krista’s number. “How are you, honey? How’re things going?”

  “Great, Mom. What about you and Grandma?”

  “Top of the world, hon. Do you remember my telling you that I fell in love with someone in California? He found me. He’s right here, and I’m so happy.”

  “What? Get outta here! You’re kidding.”

  “I’m not. Winston, come say hello to Krista.”

  “Hello, Krista. I’m glad to have a chance to speak with you.”

  “Me, too. You be good to my mom. She was broken up about you.”

  “Believe me, I was, too. Don’t worry. She’s precious to me, and I’ll treat her that way.”

  Petra took the phone. “Are you concentrating on your studies?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Would you believe I got a bid from the Deltas?”

  “That’s wonderful. Take it. We’ll handle the cost.”

  “Thanks, Mom. Give Winston and Grandma a hug good night.”

  With his arm around Petra’s waist, Winston asked her, “Will you spend the night with me?”

  “I’ll have to put a few things in a bag.”

  She wondered at his frown. “Do you want to go with me? Do you love me, Petra?”

  His questions surprised her. “How can you ask? Yes, I love you, and yes, I want to be with you as much as you want to be with me.” She turned to go up the stairs, paused and looked back, as if to see whether he was still there. Seeing him in her home continued to rattle her. She had to snap out of it. At the top of the stairs, she turned left, and knocked on her mother’s bedroom door.

  “Come in.”

  “Mama, I know this shocked you. I’m still stunned.”

  “He’s a good man, and he loves you. I couldn’t ask for more for you. That radiologist at the lab did you a favor.”

  She leaned over, hugged and kissed her mother, and couldn’t remember when she’d last done that. “See you tomorrow afternoon.”

  As she walked into that hotel with Winston, her thoughts went to the night months earlier, the one time they made love. Suppose it wasn’t as she remembered and that her mind had tricked her into months of longing for him.

  “I never thought I’d be in your arms again. I’d given up on you,” Petra said to Winston.

  “I never gave up. I couldn’t.” He put the key card in the lock and looked steadily at her. “Has there been…I mean is there anyone else?”

  “There were opportunities, but I was never once close to being tempted. You were always on my mind and in my heart.”

  He slid the key card through the l
ock, opened the door, pushed her bag inside it, and walked in with her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around him and knew at last the unbridled joy of being with him again, of feeling his strength and passion. He held her away from him, stared down at her and, when a harsh groan tore out of him, she knew he felt what she felt.

  “Love me,” he said. “You’re everything to me.”

  “I do love you, Winston, and I always will love you.”

  A smile brightened his face as his eyes shone like stars. Then his gaze darkened, and the storm in his eyes sent excitement roaring through her body. He gripped her buttocks with one hand and, with the other, he imprisoned her head, and at last she had his tongue deep in her mouth, possessing her. Her hot blood raced to her loins, and she twisted against him, seeking any friction that she could get. Exasperated, she placed his hand on her breast and, as if he suddenly remembered, he pulled her sweater over her head, released her left breast and sucked her into his warm mouth.

  “Take me to bed. I want to feel you inside of me.”

  He stripped away her remaining clothes, lifted her, and placed her on the bed. As he stood above her, gazing at her and slowly peeling off his clothes, she thought she’d go mad.

  “No. Let me look at you. I thought this was beyond me, and I…Sweetheart…”

  She opened her arms to him. “Come here to me.”

  He kicked off his shoes, dropped himself into her waiting arms and, with all the niceties and foreplay forgotten, they went at each other the way a long-starved person goes at food. When she screamed her completion, a volcano rupturing around him, he shouted his release, spilling into her like a hot waterfall, and collapsed upon her.

  “I didn’t believe it could be this wonderful again,” he said, breathing heavily. “Did you?”

  “I didn’t imagine we’d have the chance. It was…It couldn’t have been any better.” She reached up, clasped his nape, and kissed him.

  Hours later, he opened the bar, uncorked a bottle of champagne, filled two flutes with it, and put the glasses on the night table beside the bed. Kneeling at the bed where she lay propped up by one elbow, he said, “I love you, Petra. Will you marry me? I’ll do my best for you and our children, and I’ll be faithful to you until my last breath.”