by Tiana Laveen
“That sounds like a good idea. Besides, I have some work to do tonight and that may get me started on the right track.” He helped her place her items on the conveyer belt, then, as it was time to pay, he waved at the cashier.
“This’ll all be on one order.”
Bailey put her hand on her hip. “I think I can pay for my own groceries, Chancellor.”
“Of course you can, but that’s not the point.” He winked at her, placed his items right behind hers, then blew her a kiss…
CHAPTER EIGHT
Broken Eggs, B&B’s and Coffee
Brews had a much larger crowd that evening than Chancellor had anticipated. In fact, they had to wait for a table, and that was virtually unheard of. Nevertheless, he was satisfied that the place had picked up business; he only hoped that the quality didn’t suffer.
He and Bailey fell in conversation, their voices almost drowning in the ruckus of the boisterous crowd. They held hands and shared laughs. But something had been on his mind—something he needed to know: how could someone as lovely and beautiful as Bailey be single? He crossed out the possibility of her being crazy or clingy. Maybe she’d stayed alone by choice. At times, she poked fun at herself, stating about one of her foibles, ‘This is why I was single.’
He cleared his throat and leaned back in his seat. “Bailey…” he said, wrapping his hands around his coffee cup.
“Mmmm hmmm,” she stated, taking a sip from hers. The smoke from the hot liquid twirled in front of her face as he locked gazes with her dark brown eyes.
“Now I know people say bringing up exes is not good date conversation. Some even say you shouldn’t bring it up at all, but I have never agreed with that logic. Even if I did, well, we’re beyond that. I want to know what happened between you and the man you dated before me, and maybe even the one before him.”
She cocked her head, a tense smile on her face. Running her hands up and down the sides of her cup, she stared down into it, as if seeing something cute and interesting.
“The man I dated before you and I got together was emotionally abusive.” She shrugged. “Plain and simple. He did a lot of gaslighting and playing with my head.”
“Gaslighting? Isn’t that the term used to describe when someone is showing you a lot of affection and attention, wining and dining you, but it’s a set up, so to speak?”
“Yeah, that’s part of it. Mainly it’s just being manipulated, for better or for worse. It’s a type of psychological grooming if you will, and then, before you know it, you’re questioning your own sanity. I can give you an example of some things he would do.”
“All right.”
“He would tell me that we should go on a vacation together, a romantic getaway. Then, he’d start an argument with me a week or two later, after we’d already started planning it, and tell me the whole thing is off, that he doesn’t want to be in a nice, peaceful place with someone like me. It would literally be him coming to me and screaming and hollering about a carton of eggs that had some broken ones inside it, or maybe he believed I got some bleach on his clothes when I spent the night and did my laundry. It was always something! His favorite form of punishment was the silent treatment. He’d then love bomb me after these episodes … flowers, jewelry, you name it.”
“Broken eggs?” Chancellor shook his head. “Yeah, that sounds strange to say the least. All right, so he was a narcissist. That term has been in the media a lot lately.”
“It has, because more awareness has come to light. I believe my ex-boyfriend had been mentally ill for a long while. I have my suspicions on how it happened—his childhood for one was pretty bad—but it got to the point where none of that mattered to me anymore. I just wanted out.”
“How did he take the break up?”
“Not well. See, they always want to be in control, Chancellor. I didn’t ask him for the key back to my place. I just changed the locks. I mailed all of his belongings he’d left at my home back to him. Then, after I refused his visits and calls, he tried to file a small claims case against me, stating that he had trophies over at my place from his wrestling days in high school.” She shook her head and grimaced. “What an absolute joke. That case was tossed out due to lack of evidence and absurdity. I also went on and played the threatening voicemails he’d left me during that time for the judge. That pretty much sealed his fate.”
“Had he ever been physically violent?”
“No, but he would say violent things like, ‘If a guy ever knocked you around, I could see why.’ Things like that.”
“Good God,” Chancellor said, “I’m glad you got away from him. You know, you hear about guys like him on, say, Dr. Phil, and since I’m not a woman I haven’t experienced it, but that’s wild.”
“Oh, don’t get it twisted.” She chuckled mirthlessly. “Women can be narcissistic, too. I think, statistically speaking, these kinds of women are fewer and farther in between, but they definitely exist. Believe it or not, it helped me though … that terrible relationship.”
“How so?”
“It made me appreciate my inner strength. It reminded me who I truly was. It made me no longer question my judgment in character. When I first met that man, I found him really attractive but something about him…” she said, shaking her head. “I just don’t know, Chancellor. Something was off. It was my gut instinct telling me, I believe, to beware. But I didn’t listen. I was with him on and off for almost five years.”
“When is the last time you spoke to or saw him?”
“Oh, goodness.” She stared at the ceiling as she searched her memory bank, “It has to have been almost two years. He eventually stopped calling, but I did run into him. He acted polite as if he had not spent the majority of his time torturing me to death. I spoke to him with my head held high and went on about my way. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of being rude or appearing hurt. That’s what people like him want. They feed on it. Nope. My career was going great. I had a nice circle of friends, and I was happy.”
“Good for you.”
“And I’ve dated on and off since then.” She sighed and placed her cup onto the table. “But I knew what I wanted and what I deserved, and I was just taking some time to find it. So, you’re my first relationship since that guy … and I think you’re amazing.”
He reached across the table and gripped her hand, then brought it to his lips.
“I am,” he said. She chuckled at his cockiness. “But you are far more remarkable than I could ever be or even imagine…”
Three anger management sessions proved not only helpful, but something Chancellor looked forward to. When the last one ended, he shook hands with several of the other attendees and made his way to his parked car in the dimly lit lot. When he got home, he noticed Bailey’s house was pitch black inside. As of late, she’d been burning the midnight oil. Her soothing voice was in hot demand.
He pulled up into his driveway, pressed the button to raise the garage door, and minutes later grabbed his shovel. There wasn’t much snowfall, but enough to create a bit of a slippery situation. Crossing the street, he began to clear her driveway and walkthrough. Suddenly, he saw Bernie’s nose practically smashed into the glass of the front door side panel. He paused and waved to the hairy beast. This time, Bernie didn’t bark at him in his typical loud greeting. They stared at one another for quite some time until Chancellor had an idea. Sliding his phone out of his pocket, he sent Bailey a text message:
I know you are busy in the studio right now. But do you have a spare key somewhere? I am shoveling your snow and Bernie is looking at me like one of those abused and neglected dogs in the charity infomercials you donate money to. I can let him out for a few minutes if you want.
After a couple of minutes, his phone vibrated. Sliding it back out of his pocket, he read:
Bailey: LOL. Bernie strikes again. Yes. Go to the back of the house. There are five rocks piled in a row against the patio. One of those rocks, the middle one, has a key taped to it. The s
ecurity code is: 6438.
After finding the key, he entered the house. Bernie jumped upon him, making it almost impossible for him to turn the alarm off, but he finally managed.
“Hang on, boy … your mom keeps your leash over here near the pantry, I believe.” Flipping on the light in the kitchen, he saw the leash hanging on a red hook and attached it to Bernie’s collar. “Ready to go for a walk?” Bernie galloped about, excitement in his wild amber eyes. “All right then, let’s go. Oh shit…” He grimaced when he thought about dog poop—and dogs like Bernie pooped a lot. He shuffled inside the pantry, searching through the shelves until he found an empty plastic sack from Walgreens.
This’ll do.
He then ripped off a couple of paper towels from the kitchen rack and headed out the door, with the furry fiend at his side.
This week I came home to a dozen white roses on my doorstep, and a bag of low sodium chips…
Bailey’s body felt as if a truck had hit her. She dragged her feet, then practically fell to the floor. Catching her balance, she shook her head, realizing that she’d worked herself nearly half to death this past month. All of these glorious offers were rolling in and when offered work, by golly, you took it. After fixing a cup of tea, she flopped down onto the couch like a sack of potatoes and gripped the remote control, only to find herself staring blankly at the screen. Bernie had finally accepted that he would not be getting a third helping of dinner, and snuggled up next to her regardless of her stingy ways.
“The vet said you need to lose about ten pounds, Bernie. No more cupcakes and custard pies from Jacob’s Bakery for you.” She gave a comforting rub to his head, but all he did was groan. Just then, her cellphone rang. She smiled when she noted the number.
“Hello.”
“Hello, beautiful. Hey, I was thinking, would you like to go away this weekend? Like a mini staycation? I was thinking, if you’re still available and haven’t booked another gig, we could drive to Chicago.”
Though her body was screaming ‘Leave me be!’ her mind and heart yelled, ‘Hell yes!’
“Chancellor, you must’ve read my mind. I have been so damn tired! You have no idea. I just got in the house and all I could do was sit here and think about how exhausted and bored I am. I want to get out and have some fun. That sounds like a great idea!”
“Okay, I will make the arrangements. Let’s let Bernie stay at the kennel I told you about. It’s like a little hotel for dogs and don’t worry, it’s only for a couple nights. He’ll be fine.”
She glanced at Bernie and smiled at the boy. “That sounds perfect.”
“Okay, let me make the arrangements, I’ll get the car gassed up in the morning and we can head out. Get some rest tonight. Sweet dreams.”
“Sweet dreams to you too, Chancellor. I love you.” Silence stretched on the other end, as if the man had forgotten the alphabet, didn’t know how to string a few syllables together and pronounce words that made sense.
“Thank you. I mean … I mean I love you, too…”
She disconnected the call, imagining how he must’ve been looking right at that moment. And the thought of it pleased her—most of all because what he’d said was true…
The 14 East B&B on 14th Street in Chicago was just what the doctor ordered. Chancellor stood back proudly as he witnessed his girlfriend peruse the room. A canopied bed was the focal point, draped with sheer white sheets tied securely with satin sashes to ash wood beams. On the bed lay neatly folded forest green and teal wash towels. A mixture of classic paisley-floral print throw pillows with amber tassels gave a creative flair to the display. Bailey plopped down on the bed and sprawled her legs and arms, sighing with relief as if she’d climbed a mountain and had finally reached the top.
“This is the life!”
“Yeah, but you didn’t see this view.” Chancellor marched over to the window and spread the curtains open, allowing some light to kiss the room. It was a rather gloomy day, but something about it felt good and promising.
“My father named me Bailey after his best friend who was in the army.”
Chancellor turned towards the woman, taken aback by the suddenness of the utterance.
“What made you think of that just now?”
“His nickname was ‘Chicago’.”
“Ah…”
“My father was in the army for only a short period of time. He got an honorable discharge. But while there, his friend died. So, he named me Bailey. Everyone thought I was going to be a boy.” Her lips curved into a crooked smile with a touch of sadness. “But my mother said she’d name me that anyway, once the doctor told them my sex. I’ve always hated my name. I used to get made fun of for it … Bailey…” She said her name in a whisper, as if trying it out for size for the first time. “But I like it now. It’s different.”
“I like it, too.” He went to lay next to her, both of them staring up at the ceiling, their legs hanging off the side of the bed.
“Chancellor is such a noble sounding name. Do you know why your parents named you that?”
“It’s not as principled as the reasoning behind yours. My mother purchased a baby name book from a bookstore and thought it sounded nice. There really was no rhyme or reason behind it, no namesake … no fallen hero to honor.”
“Well, you’re somebody’s hero I’m sure, so maybe someone else will be named after you.”
He smiled at her words.
“You know, I got a call a few days ago from work. They told me I could return since I’ve completed three anger management sessions, but I told them I would prefer to stay the entire time away … all three months. I need it. I don’t know why, but I just feel like I have to finish this. Rushing back in too soon could derail everything and make me go back to my old ways.”
“It seems like the group sessions have helped. I am not just happy for you; I’m proud of you, Chancellor.”
He wasn’t certain if she realized how much those words meant to him.
“It’s hard for me to accept my part in all of this—the mess I’d made. That’s what I’ve been learning in group. Things that I took no responsibility for, I see now in fact that I had a role in. I don’t expect perfection from myself anymore, and that’s the hardest part of all.”
“That’s deep, you know that? A lot of people are trying to reach perfection, like hustle harder, try harder, but you … you are trying to find your humanity, yourself, the true you. I think we may be on a similar journey. It’s only that the twists in the road are different.”
“I think you’re right, sweetie. We’re more similar than I initially realized.”
“Maybe that’s part of the attraction towards each other, you know?” He nodded in agreement. “I wanted to drown in my work, to flush out everything that was going wrong. My wish was granted, but I lost myself in the process. I’m a people person.” She smiled shyly. “So, to close myself off for a while was killing my spirit. For this reason, I started to go out more, dare myself to do the things I wanted to do. Like purchase a house—the house of my dreams. Leave the people I knew, and start fresh.”
“Starting over is necessary sometimes, no matter how painful it is.”
“It was time, long overdue. And all the excuses I had to stop my progress—I squashed them. I knew myself, but I was silencing that part of me, you know, the inner-me. But it seems you didn’t know yourself, and you were yelling at your inner voice … the real you that wanted to get out and do something new. It wasn’t going to keep accepting ‘no’ as an answer.”
He slid closer to her and rolled on top of her sweet-smelling form. Burying his face in the crook where neck met shoulder, he layered her skin with kisses.
“I still have a long way to go. This mess of a man you said you love didn’t get like this overnight.”
“Rome wasn’t built in a day.” She wrapped her arms around him as they tossed and turned in each other’s arms. The neatly made bed soon became a beautiful disaster, their naked bodies sprawled and moving as s
he pretended to run, and he gave chase. Giggles and screams echoed throughout the room, with warnings to one another to ‘hush!’ Her joy filled his spirit. Each time she smiled it looked like the burst of a thousand suns. He positioned her on her stomach, pinning her down, then brought his groin against her smooth, rounded ass. Running his fingers through her hair, he kept her steady and kneed her legs apart, then shoved his hard and ready cock within her. She bit down on the pillow, squelching a scream as he thrust within her. He grunted when the warm, wet sheath of her bare pussy sent him over the fucking edge.
“You’ve got a big fucking dick … damn it! I can feel that shit! Feels so good!”
He increased his pace, teasing her with each inch he had to offer. Reaching beneath her, he cupped her soft breasts and the nipples instantly hardened to his touch. The bed began to sigh and hiss; the headboard knocked hard against the wall, causing the landscape pictures above it to shake and threaten to fall. The woman gripped the edge of the mattress, and then, she cried out and pushed her ass back against his groin, taking all of him in. Grabbing her by the chin, he pulled her to him and kissed her. Thrusting hard and steady, he kept on going, working her pussy until he’d driven the last of her orgasmic ghosts out into the open. He grabbed her by the neck; her hot breath poured into his mouth, her muscles clenched and relaxed against his body, and her eyes glazed over as if she saw stars. Gently releasing his grip, he kept a steady hand on her shoulder. The bed shook harder and harder and sweat began to drip down his chest.
“Yes, fuck me, baby!” The nasty words coming from her sweet little mouth amazed him and turned him on in ways she’d never understand.
“You feel amazing, baby!” His hips propelled forward until he’d hit that sweet spot… “Where do you want it?!” He quickly pulled out of her and she rolled over, squeezing her tits together.
