After All

by Emery, Lynn

  Michelle watched the rhythmic motions of his body as though hypnotized. She placed her hands on both his hips and matched her movements to his. They lost themselves in the music. Long passionate kisses left them breathless. Michelle lovingly guided Anthony's hands over her breast thrilled at the tantalizing sensation of being caressed through the soft fabric of her blouse.

  “Come on.”Michelle danced him into the bedroom.

  Michelle still wondered at the hunger he roused in her. Anthony seemed to be reading her mind. His tender touch at just the right moment made her cry out for more. Through song after song, they made love. They held each other trembling and unable to speak after each fantastic wave of ecstasy. They drifted off to sleep with arms and legs entwined.

  Morning dawned bright with a clear blue sky. Michelle and Anthony lingered over coffee and toast.

  “So what's on the agenda for you today?” Anthony began clearing the breakfast dishes. He filled the sink with soapy water.

  “I'm going by the hospital to see Dom; then over to the radio station.” Michelle stretched lazily. Gazing out at the beautiful weather she thought how it perfectly mirrored her mood. “You don't have to do that.”

  “I might as well get in the habit. I plan to be a fifty-fifty husband.” Anthony spoke with his back to her as he dried his hands on a dish towel.

  “What?” Michelle's mouth dropped open.

  Getting down on one knee, he took both her hands in his. “I said, will you marry me?”

  Michelle traced the line of his strong jaw with a forefinger. “Yes, yes, and yes!” she said, her eyes shining. A beautiful dream, one that seemed impossible only a few days ago, came true.

  Anthony ran his fingers the soft curls of her hair. “I love you so much,” he whispered.

  Michelle could not stop the tears that flowed. “I love you, too.”

  Drawing back, Anthony held both her shoulders. “Now all you need is an engagement ring.”

  Michelle sniffed. “Baby, I don't need anything fancy. Something simple will do.”

  Anthony reached into his pocket. He sighed in a loud, exaggerated fashion. “Then I guess I should return this.”

  Michelle shrieked when she saw the two carat diamond solitaire set in white gold. She lunged forward to clasp him around the neck causing them to topple onto the floor as she covered his face with kisses.

  Anthony lay on his back laughing. “Hey, lady; I know you want me bad, but try to control yourself.”

  Michelle leered at him. “This is only the beginning, darlin'.” She smiled down at him. Then her face grew solemn. “But can you afford a ring like this?”

  Anthony placed a finger on her lips. “Don't worry. I've gotten a vote of confidence from three of my biggest clients. They assured me the building projects they hired me to complete are still mine. Now give me back that beautiful smile.”

  “Oh, Anthony,” was all she managed before he smothered her attempts with his kiss.

  ***

  Driving to the hospital, Michelle waved gaily at everyone she met. She wanted to shout her happiness to the whole world.

  Michelle breezed into Dominic's room. “Hello, brother. How are you this fine day? I must say, you look marvelous.”

  Dominic sat next to the window in the recliner. “Wow, try to cheer up.” He grinned at her. “Spill it. What have you been up to?”

  Michelle assumed a nonchalant pose. “I have no idea what you're talking about. I happen to be in a good mood, that's all.”

  “Don't give me that. You've got that goofy, dazed look in your eyes that could only mean one thing: true love.”

  “What makes you the expert?” Michelle sat on the side of his hospital bed swinging her legs back and forth.

  “Hey, I had my share of love struck ladies before I settled down.” Dominic studied her with amusement. “You've got all the signs. And I don't have to be psychic to know Anthony put that smile on your face.”

  “Okay, so we're back together, Mr. Know-it-all.” Michelle giggled.

  “It wasn't hard to figure out. I'm really happy for you.” Dominic patted her knee.

  “This time we won't let anything keep us apart.” Michelle gazed down at the ring on her finger. This symbol of love still awed her.

  Dominic did a double take when the stone sparkled in the sunlight. “Whoa, look at that rock. You go, girl. When's the big day?”

  “We haven't set a date yet. He only gave it to me this morning. I'm still recovering from the proposal.” Michelle's eyes went wide.”I hadn't even thought about the wedding.”Her head swam at the prospect all the arrangements needed. There was no question she wanted it to be a special day. “So many details.”

  Dominic struggled to his feet to shuffle forward with small careful steps. He sat next to her on the bed. “Well, there's no need to panic. If I know Mama, she's been planning the wedding of her only daughter for the last twenty years at least. She'll know which caterer to use, the best flower shop, and everything else down to the last detail.”

  Michelle lost the contented look. “Mama won't have to bother. A big circus with a lot of snobby, pretentious people is the last thing I want.”

  “What did she say when you told her you didn't want a big wedding?”

  “Nothing.” Michelle did not turn around.

  “For real? She didn't beg, threaten or lay a guilt trip on you?”

  Michelle cleared her throat. “Like I said, nothing.”

  “Amazing.” Dominic was silent for a few moments. “Wait a minute, when was the last time you talked to Mama, Michelle?”

  “A while.” Michelle folded her arms and stared out at the traffic below. No matter how she had tried, she had been unable to do more than engage in mechanical chatter with her mother for brief moments. She could not blot out the ugly image of her mother sneaking around with Ike Batiste.

  “Michelle, come over here.” Dominic slapped the bed sharply. “Right now or I'll come over there.”

  Michelle sat beside him with her arms still folded. “Dom, you don't understand.”

  “Mama had an affair with Ike and Pop knew about it. Mama's been milking our sympathy all along and letting us think Pop was the bad guy. Does that sum it up?” Dominic held up a hand. “Wait, I left out the part about Pop not knowing for sure if I was his kid.”

  “My Lord, who told you all this?” Michelle sputtered. “Brian? I'm going to wring his neck.”

  “Chelle--”

  “The last thing you needed was to have a bombshell like that dropped on you. He's going to be sorry.”

  Dominic clamped a hand over her mouth. “Shut up will you? I overheard Pop and Mama talking one night when they thought I was too drugged to hear them.” He took his hand away. “Now if he can find a way to forgive her, so can you.”

  Michelle looked away. “I've tried.”

  “Talk to her about it. I'm sure Mama is in a lot of pain that this has come between you.”

  “I'm so angry with her... I'm afraid of what I might say.” Michelle bit her trembling lower lip.

  Dominic took her hand. “You miss her as much as she misses you, Chelle. Tell her how you feel. Scream at her if it'll help. But don't treat her like a stranger. We're close to really being together as a family again.”

  “Dom, I just don't know.”

  “Please, Chelle.” Dominic's voice broke. “Please try for me.”

  Michelle enclosed him in a gentle embrace. “Shh, don't get upset. I swear I'll talk to Mama.” Despite the ease with which she made her promise, her stomach churned at the thought of confronting Annette.

  Chapter 18

  Michelle stood near her old desk in the news room of Channel Twelve. In spite of the unpleasant circumstances surrounding her exit, she felt surprisingly at ease. She gazed about her as though it had been years instead of a few months since her departure. Michelle searched for lingering anger or resentment but found none. Several staff greeted her warmly, as though she were returning from exile. Michelle was se
cretly amused at the underlying tone of sympathy in their voices. Far from languishing in self-pity, she had cultivated her skills and seen her career blossomed in a promising new direction. Weston Lockport, with Jason in tow, strode forward wearing a broad smile. Jason hovered at his shoulder.

  Lockport stuck out his hand.” Michelle, wonderful of you to come.” They walked towards his office. “I've been following your work on that little radio station. You've certainly made a name for yourself.”

  Michelle gave a short indulgent laugh. “Why thank you. Being featured in USA Today is also pretty good.”

  Lockport's face registered shock, but he quickly recovered. “Really? Congratulations my dear.” He ushered her to one of the leather chairs around a glass table set in front of a large window with a view of the Mississippi River. “Jason, get us some coffee please. How do you take yours, Michelle?”

  Michelle did not bother to look at Jason. “Cream, no sugar.” The corner of her mouth lifted just a bit.

  A chagrined Jason pursed his lips. He fought to keep his expression blank. “Yes, sir.”

  Weston leaned back and beamed at her. “Well, well. You wasted no time getting established in both radio and print media. Fine article in Parade Magazine on self-help groups in the African-American community. Very fine indeed. Of course, we at Channel Twelve recognized your talent long ago.”

  Michelle inclined her head in gracious acceptance. “Yes, and most of my time spent here was rewarding.”

  Weston cleared his throat. “You're referring to that incident with your notes. I did what seemed prudent at the time. After all, Charlotte Kinchen and James Bridges had high powered attorneys sitting on my doorstep. When your notes couldn't be found...”

  Michelle's eyes narrowed. “You leaped to the conclusion that I faked the story. Even though Nathan said he saw some of the invoices.”

  Weston shifted in his seat. “He couldn't swear the two or three he saw were genuine. And then an employee at the Housing Authority denied the invoices existed.”

  “Didn't it occur to you that T'aneka was scared witless by those thugs?” Michelle's eyes bored into him.

  “Well, Nathan said that was a possible motivation. Sure she tried to change her story later, but frankly we felt her credibility had been compromised.” Lockport lifted a shoulder.

  “T'aneka came to talk to you for me?” Michelle's eyes misted. “Such a sweet kid.” Her soft expression hardened when she turned her attention back to Lockport. “So what did you want to discuss with me, Mr. Lockport?” she said in a crisp, business-like tone.

  Jason came back in bearing two large mugs with the Channel Twelve logo on them. After setting them down on the glass table he started to pull up another chair.

  “Take that report on my desk with you on your way out. I made notes in the margins. Re-work some of the verbiage.” Lockport dismissed him with a short wave of his hand. “Thank you, Jason.”

  “I, uh, wanted to--” Jason stammered searching for a reason to stay.

  “Thank you, Jason.” Lockport stared at him hard. When the door closed behind him, he faced Michelle again. “As I was saying, let's put that unfortunate incident behind us. Channel Twelve is on the cutting edge of news reporting in this state and you fit right in with where we're going. With your talent and our resources we can do great things in this city.”

  “What about the `unfortunate incident'? I never found my notes or proved I ever had them.” Michelle had no intention of letting him off easy.

  “Maybe we acted in haste. In any event, it’s been a learning experience for us all.” Lockport wore a paternal smile. “We have the exposure and ratings that can launch you nationally, my dear. We need you and you need us.” Lockport smiled at her paternally.

  Michelle arched an eyebrow at him without returning his smile. “I don't think so.”

  Lockport's smile stretched tight. “Excuse me? I don't understand.”

  Michelle leaned on the table crossing her arms and cocked her head to one side. “While I agree with you about my talent, this invitation didn't come for that reason alone.” She gazed at him waiting for the real explanation. “Well?”

  “As I said, you have the potential to do even greater things. The Housing Authority story is one example. We had such a hold on the ratings.”

  “Which I hear have really slipped,” Michelle said with ice in her voice.

  Lockport fingered his designer silk tie. “And the stories about community groups working to help themselves.”

  “Which you took from me after I came up with the idea. Jennifer not doing so well, eh?” Michelle pressed on. She enjoyed watching him squirm.

  Lockport lifted his nose. “I wouldn't say that exactly.”

  “Mr. Lockport, let's cut to the bottom line.” Michelle held up one finger. “One, Channel Six has been beating the pants off this station since they picked up on the Housing Authority scandal. They even wanted to interview me.”

  “Now, Michelle,” Lockport said in a flustered voice. “Why take second billing on a story you made?” His face turned bright pink. “You deserve better.”

  Michelle ignored his remark. She held up a second finger. “Two, the sources that helped me break the story will only talk to me; you know it and I know you know it.” She grinned at him and held up a third finger. “And three, Jennifer's handling of the series on community groups making a difference in this city has hit a dead end. From what I've seen, it's become a video society page with low ratings.”

  Lockport rubbed his chin and stared out of the large window at a tug boat slowly pushing four barges along the river. He turned back to her wearing a resigned expression. “What can I say? I let Jason and that jittery lawyer convince me when I should have listened to my gut instinct. But listen young lady; this is a tremendous opportunity for you. You'll get exposure, a regular feature, and the chance to fill in as anchor at least one weekend a month. How about it?”

  Michelle formed a steeple with her fingers. “Let me think it over. Of course, I may only work part-time since I have my radio show twice a week now.” She expected him to balk at the idea.

  Lockport nodded slowly with a large satisfied smile. “We can certainly work with you on that. You'll get in touch with me, let's say by Thursday?”

  Michelle stood up. “Definitely.” She gave him a firm handshake before leaving. Once the door closed behind her, she did a little victory dance in the hall.

  ***

  Michelle sat with Anthony in her apartment listening to music and having a glass of wine. She told him every detail of her meeting with Lockport over dinner, relishing the feeling of triumph once again.

  Anthony put his arms around Michelle's waist. “That's fantastic, honey. I'm just sorry you had to suffer such a humiliating experience because of me.”

  Michelle drew away and looked at him in surprise. “You didn't have anything to do with my being suspended.”

  “But either Uncle Ike or Marcus did. Probably both.” Anthony glowered.

  Michelle placed her hands on his shoulders. “Now look, don't start accepting blame for everything they do. You of all people shouldn't feel guilty.”

  Anthony sighed. “I do though. Chances are one of them picked up on something I said and used it. I was so dumb to keep defending Uncle Ike all those years. It's like I had a part in every dirty trick he's pulled.”

  Michelle rubbed his cheek. “Loving and supporting your family isn't a crime. It's hard when someone you love dearly lets you down. But, honey, Ike made his own choices.”

  Anthony touched the smooth flesh of her lips with the tip of his tongue. “Have I told you how marvelous you are

  “Yes, but you get bonus points for repeating yourself.” Warmth spread through her at the sensation of his rising passion. She lifted her mouth to receive him once more. The annoying sound of the doorbell somehow filtered through the velvet haze of sensuality that enveloped them.

  “Better get that,” Anthony mumbled without taking his lips
from hers.

  Michelle whimpered softly. “Hmm, they'll go away if we keep quiet.” Her hands traveled the length of his muscular body.

  “Say, Toussaint! Open up!” Earl pounded on the door. “We know you're in there.”

  Michelle groaned. “I forgot. Earl and Gracie called this afternoon to say they were coming over.” She wore an apologetic smile.

  “It's okay.” Anthony leered at her. “When they leave, you're mine.”

  “I'm going to hold you to that, mister.” Michelle was still giggling when she opened the door. “Quit all that racket and get in here.” She swung the door wide to let them in.

  Gracie came in first. Her eyebrows shot up when she saw Anthony sitting on the couch. “Hello again.”

  Earl strolled in with a knowing smirk. “Hey y'all, what's up?” He slapped hands with Anthony in greeting. “Uh, we're not interrupting anything I hope?”

  Anthony's even white teeth flashed. “It's cool, man.”

  Earl winked at him. “All right, all right.”

  Michelle reached out to box his ears but missed when Earl ducked. “All right nothing. Sit down and hush.”

  Michelle got them all tall glasses of iced tea. After setting a tray of nuts and corn chips out for everyone to munch on, she sat next to Anthony on the sofa.

  “Congrats are in order on the professional front I hear. Way to go, Michelle.” Earl gave her a thumbs up sign.

  “Yeah. We know things went well because Jason has been a foul mood. Success is the best revenge.” Gracie slapped palms with her. “Even better, he had to fetch your coffee,” Gracie crowed.

  Michelle laughed. “Not even making Lockport admit he screwed up topped that.”

  “So are you coming back?” Earl asked.

  “Part-time. I don't want to give up the talk show at WDUP or freelance writing. Being on television isn't the big thrill it used to be.” Michelle lifted a shoulder. “Lockport is right about one thing though, I want the exposure. But more for what it can do for our community than my own career.”