Chapter 8
John
More Than a Side Piece
When I got back home, my feelings were even stronger than they were before I went to Atlanta. After having a heart-to-heart with Clara, I finally understood why I had carried around this underlying feeling of incompletion. The news of my lost child pummeled me in the chest every time I imagined marrying a young Clara with a rounded belly, carrying my child.
I never imagined my seed had been planted during our passionate moments. What if she’d bore my child — a beautiful, mixture of her bronze beauty and my ivory tone? Just thinking about the possibilities made it even more prudent that I did whatever necessary to make things right with her. I owed her the world and more for the pain I caused.
Had my visit gone the way I wanted it to? No. I knew from the start Clara would be a tough cookie to crumble. She was no nonsense, as she should’ve been. Stepping back into her world would take time and determination, and as a retired man of means I definitely had both.
I left shortly after breakfast feeling hopeful. I’d managed to make her crack one small smile by calling her Joanie, a pet name I had given her back in college. I always said she looked like a black version of the star on Happy Days, so I’d call her Joanie and she would instantly smile.
Her wonderful smile was still imprinted in my mind that evening. I sat in my home office thinking of ways to make that pretty smile happen again, until Tammy walked and interrupted my reverie.
“John?” she said in a low, sultry voice.
“What do you need, Tammy?” I asked without looking up.
“I need you, John.”
Tammy’s attempt at sounding ultra-sexy caused me to look in her direction. She was wearing a long, red gown with feathers around the collar and arms. Her red hair was straight and flowing down her shoulders and back. She had on a fair amount of makeup and bright red lipstick.
Her Botox-injected rosy cheeks rose into a phony looking smile, and she began unbuttoning her gown one button at a time. She attempted to seduce me with her eyes as each button popped open. When she reached the last button, she allowed the gown to slip down her body and to the floor. Underneath was a skimpy negligee, one like I’d never seen Tammy wear before.
Her body was that of an aged athlete, toned and shapely. There were also faint markings of the plastic surgeries Tammy had done to maintain the firmness in areas that would be otherwise sagging. If I said she wasn’t beautiful standing there in her negligee, it would have been a lie.
“Tammy, you got yourself all dolled up for bed, I see. I was just about to head to bed too,” I said, once I shook my attention from her body.
“I was hoping you could come up and sleep with me tonight. It’s been over a year since we slept together. What do you say?” she asked as she played with the fabric around the neck of her nightie.
“With our divorce impending, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
I gave her a nod, hoping she would understand I wasn’t interested in satisfying her sudden need to have me in our old bedroom.
“We need to reconnect on a deeper level, John. It’s been a while since we’ve done that, and I think the lack of passion is what’s driving you away,” she said.
“Is that what you think?”
“Let me show you what I think,” Tammy said as she began to sashay toward my desk. Her hand traveled to her rotund breasts and she began to rub the fabric above her round nipple. Her pouty lips puckered as she waited for my reaction.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and said, “That definitely won’t be happening tonight, Tammy.”
“Oh, stop being a prude, John,” she said with a hand on her hip.
It was almost laughable that the same woman who seemingly invented the word prude was calling me one.
“Go to your bedroom, Tammy.”
“Is that an order?” she said with a wink.
“You know, this is laughable.”
“John, will you please work with me here? I’m trying my best to bring some spice into our marriage. I think we need to, you know… and then maybe you’ll feel better,” she said before running her tongue across her thin, pretty lips.
“No, I don’t know. What do I need, Tammy?” I asked, entertaining her sudden interest in my needs.
“You know…” Tammy looked away coyly. “Some sex.”
I got out of my chair and walked toward the door.
“Thanks, but no thanks. At this point, I don’t need or want anything you have to offer. I’m going to my bedroom, and you should go to yours,” I said.
Every muscle in my body tensed when she rushed to stand in the middle of the doorway to block me from exiting.
“The other day, you said I couldn’t even kiss you and that’s how you knew our marriage was over. Let me prove myself to you tonight. Let me give you what you want, John. We need to do this. You need me and I need you!”
“Tammy, you have no idea of what I need,” I said as I stood inches away from her, looking into her eyes.
“Let me prove that I do,” she pleaded. “Please let me prove it tonight.”
“There is no way you can prove your love tonight. The proof is in the pudding. You have shown me, over and over again, where your heart is and it’s not with me. You have put other people’s feelings ahead of our family. You have disrespected this house, the business I run, and the people in both.”
“John, you make it seem like I’m such a terrible person when I’m not. My family is first in everything that I do. I have given my entire life to my family.”
“I noticed you purchased a pool house warming gift for the pool house the Parkers built. Since you put your family first, what have you bought for Jacob’s new home that he purchased for his new family?”
“I haven’t found the right thing…” she said, trying hard not to look bothered by my question. “I just haven’t found it yet. That’s all.”
“Yet, you put all the staff on the task of finding a three-diamond soap dispenser for the Parker’s shower that matched their décor to the letter?”
“I’ll find something for Jacob’s house tomorrow. I promise.”
“Don’t do it on my account, Tammy,” I said, growing tired of the song and dance I had to do with her every time we saw each other since I informed her of the divorce.
“I was waiting to see what color schemes they chose before purchasing something, but I will definitely be getting a gift for my son’s new home,” she said, walking toward me and taking my hand.
“And this,” I said making note of the lingerie she was wearing. “Miraculously, you own lingerie, when you have never worn anything as sexy in your life. In fact, you denied me nights like the one you’re promising tonight more times than I can count.”
I attempted to walk around her, but she rushed back to the door and blocked the way again. Her hands were on either side of the frame. “John, please just spend the night with me.”
“No,” I said firmly.
“Why are you doing this John?”
“I’m going to tell you this only once more, Tammy. It is over for us. If you don’t stay out of my way while you’re looking for a place to live, you’re going to have to find a temporary place to stay until our divorce is final. This house is big enough that we don’t even have to see each other, and that’s what I prefer.”
“This is as much my house as it is yours. I go where I want in it. If I see you, then so be it,” Tammy said, pointing her finger into my chest.
“Well, just know I don’t give idle threats. You keep pressing and I will show you whose house it really is.” I gave her a look that brooked no argument.
I didn’t like being so straightforward with her, but Tammy was the type that had to be handled frankly. I wanted to be clear that there would be no rekindling of our marriage. Who in their right mind would we rekindle something so miserable? With all the wasted years and all the damage that was done. I couldn’t think of one thing worth rekindling.
“I already have paid, Tammy,” I replied as I flipped the light switch off and walked down the long hall to my bedroom.
With these type of run-ins, our divorce being finalized couldn’t come fast enough. Had Tammy shown me this type of attention a month ago, I would have devoured her where she stood in my study tonight. But at this point, all I wanted to do was make Clara Baker smile again. When I lay down in bed, I called her number.
“Clara?” I said, happy to hear her voice on the other end of the phone.
“What do you want, John? And who gave you my number?” she asked.
“I know you don’t think I can get your address, but I can’t get your number,” I said on a laugh. “How I got the number is not important. What’s important is me hearing your voice before I go to sleep tonight.”
“Well, you need to go and hear your wife’s voice.”
“It’s you that I want to talk to,” I said.
“Listen, just because I gave you a hot meal and a few laughs doesn’t mean you can start ringing my phone every time I turn around and you’re definitely not allowed to pop up like you did this morning.”
“That’s what I was calling for. I want to know when I can see you again.”
“Oh, let’s see. How about when we enter the pearly gates of Heaven?”
“I’m serious, Joanie, I want to see you again.”
“Stop calling me that stupid name. You lost the right to call me anything other than Ms. Clara Baker a long time ago.”
“Come on, Clara, I know you don’t want me to leave you alone any more than I want to.”
There was silence for a short while. “I just don’t see no sense in us unearthing old passions and hurts. Sometimes, it’s just best to let sleeping dogs lie, John.”
“Just see me one more time,” I said, knowing full well I had no intention to ever let up.
“We don’t have a reason to see each other again. I want you to go back to living your life like you were before that dinner and I will do the same.”
“I can’t do that.”
“John, you don’t have a choice this time around. You made your choice in nineteen seventy two and I’m going to make sure you continue to live by it.”
“Nineteen seventy two. That was so many moons ago,” I said as I blew out a deep breath. “I was young and very impressionable.”
“Yes, you were,” Clara agreed.
“I loved my grandfather a lot and I always respected what he worked for.”
“What he built was admirable,” she agreed again.
“I felt obligated to run our family’s business, and my father was adamant I couldn’t run the business with a black woman on my arm,” I admitted.
“So you chose what was important and that was to run your family business. And from what I’ve read in the papers over the years, you have done well by that business. Why is it that you feel the need to come back in my life now, when our fate was sealed by your choice? ”
“Knowing what I know now, I would never have chosen Turner Enterprises over you,” I said, feeling the pain as the words left my lips. “However, I won’t take all the blame. You could have told me you were pregnant.”
“Well, John, life is all about choices. You chose your family business and I chose not to tell you about the baby growing inside of me. You fulfilled your obligations and I dealt with the consequences of our love affair alone. We both persevered through the challenges we faced and we both ended up here, separate. We made and lived with our choices, so I see no reason to change things up.”
“We can chose a different path, now that we know better.”
“Since you don’t seem to be understanding the words coming out my mouth, let me tell you one thing!” she began yelling, before I cut her off.
“Oh, Clara, do you have to talk to me so rough? Where is the sweet, young girl I met at Wellmington? I know she’s in there. Let me have her back.”
“That sweet little girl is sixty five years old now! You act like you don’t know how many years have gone by.”
“I do know, I just… I don’t know,” I digressed.
“I have come terms with the fact that I will grow old alone. I even picked out the perfect rocker for me to sit on my front porch and crochet. I’m going to buy me a cute, little kitten and hang out all day with my animals, yarn patterns, and grandkids. What will not happen is you coming into my golden years and trying to make me a side piece.”
“What do you mean, side piece?”
“I mean, I wasn’t good enough to marry and move into your great big mansion, so I’m not good enough for you to fly in on your fancy jet in the middle of the day to fulfill whatever you’re trying to fulfill. I will not be your woman on the side.”
“I understand your distrust, but I would never make you a woman on the side, Clara. You have always deserved more and I promise to show you more. You just have to give me another chance.” There was silence on the other end, so I continued, “You don’t have to answer me tonight, just know I’m going to do whatever it takes to get you back.”
“Good night,” she said hanging up the phone before I could reply. Between Tammy’s display earlier and Clara’s ambivalence, I knew I had to speed up this divorce. I was ready to move into the next phase of my life.
Chapter 9
John
Invisible Lines
I coordinated with a local Atlanta flower delivery company to deliver forty fresh roses to Clara’s home every day at 10:06 a.m. That time was sentimental. It was precisely the time I first laid eyes on her in the registration line at Wellmington. Before the deliveries would arrive each morning, I called her just to say, “Today is the beginning of the rest of our lives.”
I hung up the phone immediately after staying those words for the first three days, but on day four she caught me. “John, don’t hang up,” she said, upon hearing my voice.
“How are you, Clara?” I asked.
“I’m doing really well. How about you?” she asked and I could almost hear the beam in her tone.
“Good, now that I’m talking to you,” I replied, giving her my full attention. We went on to talk for a few minutes and she agreed to finally let me come see her again.
“When do you plan to come back to Atlanta?” she asked.
“I can be there today, if you want me there.”
“Just whenever you’re headed this way. No need to make a special trip,” she said.
“Okay, I will talk to you soon, love,” I said before hanging up the phone.
By noon, I was knocking on her front door. A beautiful aura surrounded Clara, when she opened the door. She stood in the midst of the assortment of colorful roses wearing a fitted coral dress and matching sandals. Her smile was glowing, which caused me to smile. I liked seeing her in such a good mood. I planned to make her smile like this every day for the rest of her life.
“I’m glad you kept the flowers,” I said, making note of the colorful array of roses scattered about her setting room. Even though the room was filled with lovely sentiments, it still wasn’t enough. She deserved a dozen for each moment of the day.
Clara looked around the room in shared amazement. “John, you didn’t have to send me so many flowers. I almost don’t have any space for them. There are so many flowers in here, I could start a flower shop.”
“A thousand dozen wouldn’t be enough for you. Besides, I see a little space where a few more could go,” I said, pointing to an empty space on a table in the corner of the room.
She laughed. “Well, I’m not going to have any place to sit if you keep sending me flowers.”
“That just means I’ll have to get you a bigger house to hold them all,” I said jokingly.
“There is not a thing wrong with my house, Mister.”
I looked around at her timeless furniture. Some items I was s
ure she had since the seventies, others held memories of the decades passed by. There was a picture of her parents on the wall and a large framed photo of Dr. Martin Luther King adorning the wall’s center.
“You’re right, your home is lovely… just like you.”
“Thanks,” she said as she blushed. “I’ve been living in this old place since Destiny was born. I never really thought about leaving.”
“Mind if I sit down?”
She nodded and I took comfort in the Victorian chaise close to the front door. It was then that I took in fully what she’d just said. She never really thought about leaving her home, which held memories that were near and dear to her heart. She had the courage to be still, when I was sure she could have done a million other things with her life. Her home was small and simple, yet extremely elegant. Every square foot held meaning that complimented her as a woman. A woman I admired from where I sat.
An overwhelming urge came over me, even stronger than I had the last time I was in her house. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and never let go. But I stayed seated, lest I upset her again.
“Can I get you something to drink, John? Water, iced tea, or something?”
“I’d like a glass of tea,” I said, clearing the huge lump in my throat.
Lord have mercy, I thought, feeling like a fish out of water. Watching Clara walk away in that fitted dress and heeled sandals was a sight to behold. Her rotund rump looked as firm as I remembered it. I struggled to keep dragon raging within me at bay.
I wanted to follow Clara in that kitchen and demand we make up for missed time. But who was I kidding? Clara Santana Baker would surely roast me for dinner, if I crossed that invisible line.
“Here you are, John,” Clara was saying when she reentered the room with two glasses of tea.
“Thank you.” I took one glass from her hand and took a swig.
Breathless 3: In Love With An Alpha Billionaire Page 6
