by Jade Alyse
He’ll say that it was the moment that Natalie Chandler, skinny and quiet, sat with him at the pond that night and listened to his drunken ramble. Maybe it was the moment when he knew that she wasn’t going anywhere, when he knew that by her side was where he wanted to be. Or, maybe, it was the moment that he’d fallen out of love with Sophia because he was so in love with her. Damn you, Brandon Greene! You always have to get your way, don’t you? And you knew, didn’t you? You knew that you’d have her.
He drove their rented golf cart back to the villa, set on a decline, buried beneath lush tropical flowers.
Natalie, who could barely walk, had turned into a giggling mess, and he carried her into the house (of course, she called it a “threshold”), had thrown her on the bed. She smiled, bit her bottom lip, had pulled him down by his collar with her, he, his face reddened, forehead sweaty. She started kissing his face all over, grabbed him at his shoulders, giggling through and through. And she pushed him away, demanded that he turn out the light this instant! And he followed order without hesitation.
“I’m beginning to like this whole ‘sex’ thing…can I try it this way, tonight?” She’d said in the darkness.
So much for romance.
#
It was as if he’d awakened nerves that she didn’t know she had. She was like a bird that had finally been set free from its cage. She could finally let go of any repressed emotion or sensation or feeling that she’d held inside. She was now a woman who enjoyed sex, many times over, beneath starlit skies on the cool tile floor of the lanai, on the cool marble countertop beneath a banana leaf fan in the kitchen, between the fluffy sheets on a rain-filled, balmy afternoon. She allowed her fingers to wander the length of his skin, to probe into various shadowed niches that she was once so fearful of. She writhed under the warmth and under his proximity, beneath his heavy breathing and his large hands grasping, and his subtle groans and the bed of sweat between them. Each time they made love, she felt Brandon transform into a carnal beast of knowledge and of experience, going fast when she wanted to, or slowing himself down when she petted him gently. He seemed to have mastered every swift maneuver of his hips and of his pelvis, to make the moans escape her lips just right. He was a connoisseur with his tongue and with his wet lips, sending chills around and through her, causing her to tremble with delight to this new feeling.
As each day passed, she became less and less apprehensive about displaying her naked body to him, and became more and more intrigued by the unwillingness of his hands to leave her skin untouched. On some morning occasions, she opted to remain bare, awaiting and breathlessly anticipating the next moment that his hands would find a home against her curves, around her breasts, between her thighs…
Perhaps being so near to the water brought her alive. Perhaps after feeling a bit of sea spray against her thirsty skin while she watched the sky fall beneath lofty palms with her husband, witnessing the stars appear as the crickets cried made the world disappear. She became less aware of the people around her, of her worries that awaited her in Georgia, and became a slave to the balmy breeze, to her husband’s embrace, to the smell of his ocean-misted, creamy skin and saltwater hair. He’d hold her near and she’d bury her face in a sea of black hair, running it past her lips, kissing each patch softly. They’d sit in the open-air lobby after dinner, catch a glimpse of the starry sky above them, sip drinks, hold each other. She loved to tease him in public. She loved to run chilly, ripe mango across his lips, watching him lean up to bite and miss. She loved to graze her fingertips along the backs of his ears over cocktails at Banana’s on the summit, while they witnessed the city lights of St. Kitts across the waters glisten, liven, flicker, stretch as far as the eye could see. She loved to press her lips against the nape of his warm neck in the infinity pool outside of the villa, while the sun hid behind a thin veil of graying clouds, threatening a tropical afternoon rainfall. She was certain that she’d never feel closer to Brandon than in these moments, with the fire inside of her ignited, anticipating, with each touch and feel of his heartbeat against her, the moment that he’d take her, and pour his soul inside of her…
Martha's Vineyard
MAMA, THE GREENE BROTHERS, and JACK GREENE helped them move into the cozy three-story townhouse after they came back from Nevis, a domicile with navy shutters, a covered porch and yellow siding, with a full kitchen and a master bedroom with tray ceilings and white crown molding, and cream-colored carpeting, the entire interior, smelling new and untouched, exciting Natalie.
They came across it months following Brandon’s final proposal and both considered it a good and affordable find. It was located on a narrow drive lined with baby myrtles and twig-thin Bradford pears, called Swaying Maple Trail. They shoved the boxes in, after Brandon lifted Natalie into his arms and carried her over the threshold, her, squealing through and through, taken by complete surprise at the gesture, and they planted the boxes anywhere that they could find space, Helen, scolding the brothers if they placed the boxes on the hardwood flooring in the living room and dining room, knowing that it probably scuffed easily.
They would save the painting job that needed to be done till the morning. Brandon and Natalie, having spent many long hours, fussing over paint chips and swatches of blues and yellows and greens and fiery reds, had decided on something called “Costa Rica Blue”, which wasn’t too dark, and wasn’t too baby or Carolina blue or too girly. It was just the right color for Brandon to still feel masculine, although he was still upset that Natalie had chosen such a feminine bedding suit for their mahogany sleigh bed that was to be delivered the following day.
The couple settled down with their family at a pizza place a few miles down a main road in Chapel Hill. They didn’t want to venture out too far because they were still new to the place. And it was then, when Natalie watched her husband shove yet another slice into his mouth that Jack Greene asked the question that they weren’t prepared for, that made Brandon nearly choke to death on his slice, making him stare blankly at his father, making her look at her husband with the same expression, completely shocked that they hadn’t discussed this subject at all…
“So,” Jack Greene began, placing his napkin down. “Is it too soon to talk about baby?”
Yes, way too soon! Poor Natalie was barely a woman of sexual experience, had barely got the swing of things, and now he asks her this question? Yes, it’s too soon. And she can tell that Brandon thinks the same thing. Brandon will start the new job in Raleigh in a couple of days, which promises big money someday, and she’ll start school in a couple of weeks, which will probably leave her mentally crazed, and then there was the bills, and decorating the house, and making sure she stayed fit for her husband, making sure that she kept things exciting in the bedroom, making sure that he had a hot meal on the table each night, making sure that they could make rent, making sure that they had groceries each week, making time for Brandon and the family and Asha and Scotty and getting to know the Greenes…
Yes, this wasn’t the right time!
And Natalie swallowed hard, met eyes with her husband, who placed his slice down slowly.
“Well,” Brandon said, clearing his throat. “We just got married all of three weeks ago, Dad…”
“Yes, I know that, son, but…”
“You see, the truth is, Mr. Greene…”
“Jack, Natalie, call me Jack…”
“Jack,” Natalie said. “You see…we…Brandon and myself…we haven’t really discussed children yet.”
“You haven’t discussed it yet?” Helen Chandler questioned, raising her right eyebrow the way she does when she disapproves. “I knew they rushed into this…”
“Now, now, Helen,” Jack Greene said. “Hear the kids out…they’re busy people…”
“And people are having kids much later these days, Ms. Chandler,” Mark Greene interjected. “They’re more concerned with getting their careers established…”
“Exactly, Ma,” Natalie said, touching Brandon’s ar
m. “Just because we haven’t discussed it doesn’t mean that we won’t ever…isn’t that right Brandon…?”
Brandon didn’t answer initially. He lifted his bottle of Budweiser, took a couple of gulps, before saying, “Right…”
“And Brandon hasn’t even started his new job,” Natalie explained, looking at him. “We should give him a chance to see if this is the career that he wants to pursue…and then there’s medical school…”
“Right,” Jack Greene said. “Natalie will be in school for awhile…”
“But, you don’t want to wait too late, do you, Nattie?” Mama asked.
Natalie could feel her throat clam up. She took a sip of water before answering. “Well…no…”
“Exactly,” Helen Chandler said.
“Helen, will you leave them alone?” Jack Greene said. “Like Brandon said, they’ve only been married for three weeks…let them breathe a little…they’ve got time…”
They put their family up in a Double Tree downtown and they returned to Swaying Maple, pulled the king-sized, pillow top mattress up the narrow flight of carpet-covered stairs, into the moon-bathed master bedroom at the top, and covered themselves in a thin white sheet as they started to make love just before midnight. Yes, she wanted it, hadn’t thought of much else during the drive from Georgia in the U-haul truck, when he was rubbing her thigh, running his fingers up and down her arm and the back of her neck, dreaming of the moment that they could be alone again.
And now, they finally were, weren’t they? And Brandon was kissing every inch of her brown nakedness, every inch of warmth and sweat and wetness that covered her, that longed for him, that appreciated his broad shoulders, the way his muscles in his back flexed when he moved over her, the way his hips rocked between her, the way her back arched for him, while John Mayer wailed from the CD player perched in a corner…
Yes, she was high, and somewhere in the middle of it all, she wanted to scream, the way she’d done in Nevis, laying against the cool marble floor in the screened lanai…
But her thoughts kept her from doing so, even though Brandon felt just right, even though she ran her fingers through his thick hair, even though she felt the balmy September breeze through a cracked window above them, even though Brandon made those noises…yes, the ones where she knew he was really enjoying himself; soft, low, bellowed groans, while he subtly gasped for air…
Her thoughts drifted back to dinner, and what his father said, and how Brandon had reacted to the subject; how he’d remained almost silent, making her worry…really worry…
And she stopped his hips from rocking between her, stopped his lips from kissing her collarbone, and she tried to catch her breath, him, looking strangely down at her, his breath caught, her, holding his face…
“What, baby…w—what is it?” he asked her.
“We need to talk…”
“What? Now?”
“Yes…now…”
She knew that he didn’t want to. She knew that he only wanted to keep going, and with his momentum, Natalie was almost certain that he would have no trouble going for at least another hour or so…
He rolled off of her, flopped onto the bouncy mattress, and she rested her head on his chest, feeling his deep breaths…
“Bran…”
“W—what? What do we need to talk about?”
“Us…”
“Not necessarily sure I like where this is going,” he told her. “But I have an idea…because I know Natalie so well…”
“You do?”
“Yes…it’s about what my father said…”
“Wow…”
“Because, I’ve been thinking about it too…”
“Really?”
“Of course…we’re married, aren’t we? It’s my issue just as much as it is yours…”
“So…it’s an issue…?”
“No, no…wrong choice of words…”
“I can’t believe we’ve never talked about this…I mean, we’ve been together, how long?”
“Long enough to have talked about it…”
“Exactly…”
There was silence for a moment, and she could hear Brandon still trying to catch his breath. He then cleared his throat and whispered, “Natalie…”
“Yes?”
“I should tell you that…you know, about kids…I…”
“You…what?”
“I’ve never really…jeez…I’ve never really been into…you know…having them…that’s why I was acting so funny at dinner…I didn’t think that it was the right time to tell you…and I definitely didn’t want to say it in front of your mother…”
Natalie felt her stomach do something funky and her head began to throb. Yes, she wished that they’d talked about it sooner. A lot sooner! It might have changed how she felt about marrying him at all…
“Say something, Tallie…”
She couldn’t. She had to process it first. She had to breathe first. She had to try and picture a life without having kids with her soul mate, a life without providing grandchildren for her mother…
Brandon sat up on one elbow and looked down at her. “Tal…”
She only rolled over. Looking at him at that moment would make her cry…
“Tallie, I’m…I’m sorry,” he whispered, touching her shoulder. “I should have told you sooner…I don’t know why it never came up…”
“It should have,” Natalie said quietly. “It should have come up that you don’t want to have kids…”
“Tallie…”
This time, when he tried to touch her, she pulled away.
“Baby, don’t clam up like that,” he said. “I hate when you do that…look at me…”
“If I look at you, I might kill you…or cry…”
“Natalie, please don’t cry…God, don’t cry…”
“You know, I always assumed that with you working at Bledsoe all these years that you…that you…”
“You know I like kids,” he said, reaching down to kiss her arm. “I just…baby, I’m just scared…”
She sighed, and rolled over to look at him.
“That’s better,” he said, running his fingers across her cheek.
“Scared of what? You have your family, and your friends…and you have me…”
“I know…it’s great…but, babe, I’m just like any other guy…I get scared, you know? And think of what this kid has to go through…being, you know…”
“Mixed…”
“Right…”
“It’s not too late, you know…”
“Not too late for what?”
“To get this thing annulled,” she said, sitting up. “You can go and have children with some pretty blond named Stacy and live the pretentious suburban life that Martha wants you to lead…”
She felt her throat tighten and she attempted to fight back the tears then…
“You must be out of your fucking mind if you think that I’d do that…how dare you say something like that to me…?”
“How do you think I feel, Brandon?” she said, her voice cracking. “The love of my life just tells me that he doesn’t want kids with me because I’m black…that definitely makes me feel good…”
“Tallie, don’t cry…”
Too late, she thought, as she felt a tear run down her cheek. He lifted his hand to her face and caught the next fallen tear with his finger.
“God, the one moment we get to be alone all day, and I go and ruin it…”
“No, it’s good that we get this out now…”
Silence fell between them. Natalie spent that time searching on the floor for her clothes while he sat there motionless.
“I just need time, Tallie,” he told her, escaping his trance. “I mean, you haven’t even started school, I haven’t even started my new job…why don’t we just see where we are in a couple of years and then we can talk about it then…?”
“Mm-hmm,” she replied, finding her pajama bottoms tossed across the room.
She fou
nd her clothes piece by piece and began slipping them on.
“Where are you going?” he asked her.
Natalie sighed, shook her head with frustration and bit her lip.
“Tal, where are you going?” he repeated.
“I have to go,” she told him, her voice barely audible. “I have to go for a walk or drive…I—I just have to get out of here for a little while…I can’t look at you right now…”
“Tallie, don’t…”
But, she walked out anyway. She would get out of the house before she screamed, before she pulled all of her hair out, and she hoped to God that he didn’t come running after her, unsure of what she might say or what argument they could potentially get into. She only hoped that he’d respect her need to be alone.
When she returned to the house, some several minutes before dawn, she found him sitting up on the bare mattress, with the sheet angrily balled up in his lap, with his face buried in his large hands. She sighed, and though her anger still prevailed, she didn’t enjoy seeing him like that. She sat down next to him, heard his jagged breathing and wrapped her arm around his shoulder, resting her head against his lowered one.
“We’ll figure this out together,” she told him in whisper.
He didn’t answer. He only raised his head from the hold of his hands and rested it in her lap.
#
They never really got around to talking about it. They simply woke up the next morning, let their parents into their new home, started their painting job, and virtually pretended as if the conversation had never happened. Natalie figured that if she knew anything about him, she figured that he’d come around eventually. She also figured that if he’d learned anything about her over the course of their time knowing each other, he’d know that she couldn’t live without having a family of her own. Her only hope was that when the conversation did occur, it didn’t turn into another fight, leaving him confused and looking like a jerk, and her, shedding tears, contemplating whether or not she made the right choice by being with him…
Natalie started school in September. Brandon started his new job at the firm in Raleigh. They had no money for furniture, barely any to pay the bills, car payments and groceries, and by the time their first Christmas came around, they were on two completely different sleeping schedules. Natalie slept with pens and pencils and paperclips in her hair, had slowly become a victim of her textbooks and notebooks, while Brandon became the early riser that he’d dreaded, became the coffee-drinker, a slave to the morning commute, and slowly began to miss the days that Natalie had the time to cook him breakfast. They were the kind of adults that they’d been wary of their entire young lives, became a true vision of their parents, in their worst form.
