Overcoming

by H. R. Kitte-Rojas

  "Look what you did, girl," he said, in a voice that sounded scratchy even in his own ears.

  "I don't have to look," she said, sounding wide awake. "I can feel it."

  "Not fair," he rasped. "I was sleeping so good, and you had to go and rub that heart-stopping bubble up against me."

  "Mmm-hmm," she purred. "Are you complaining?"

  He didn't answer. He treasured his sleep, but how could a natural-born man complain about something like this?

  "I'm horny," she said, giggling.

  He reached around and cupped a big, heavy breast.

  She moaned. "That's what's up, lover. You can't keep your hands off the twins, can you?"

  "I hope you can live with that," he said, awakening fast, now.

  "Mmm. I think we can work something out." Her voice was sultry, her grinding sensual.

  They worked it out. By her request, he entered her from behind. Sometimes he was in the mood for doggie-style, and this was one of those times. It did give him an incredibly erotic view of her fabulous booty, and his pale, hard piston plunging into her soft, dark flesh.

  She talked dirty again, more practiced at it, now. Right before she came she screamed, "Oh, hit it, Miles! Hit it, baby!"

  Miles couldn't last as long in this position--the angle and pressures just generated too much overwhelming sensation. Combine that with her lusty dialogue, and he was done for. It was almost painful how good it felt. Almost.

  They both dozed after that.

  Miles awoke alone in the bed, to cooking smells and sounds. He pulled on his shorts, used the bathroom, and stumbled out into the kitchen to see Shauna preparing an old-fashioned breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast.

  The fantasy continued.

  "Good morning," she said, smiling when she noticed him. Damn, she was gorgeous.

  He gave her a hug, which she returned, warmly.

  "It'll be ready in a few minutes," she said. "You can take a quick shower, if you like, and use my tooth brush. It's the bigger one, of course."

  He showered, brushed his teeth and partially dressed. They ate together while she watched A Baby Story on one of those channels he also got but never tuned to.

  He dressed, thanked her for a fantastic weekend, and prepared to leave. He was just going to kiss her goodbye on his way out. Really, that's all he meant to do. But the goodbye kiss was electrifying, and just kept going on and on. His hands slid down to cup her ass, and he pulled her into his hard bulge. Her hand snaked down, unzipped his fly, and slipped inside his shorts to grab him.

  They did it again right on the floor by the front door.

  Miles was a happy man when he went back to work.

  20

  Shauna had barely been at her desk a half hour when she just had to call Miles.

  "How are you?" she asked, in a conspiratorial whisper.

  "Never been better," he said. "How 'bout you?"

  "I'm glad to hear that. I'm good, but I miss you."

  He chuckled. "You miss me? We've only been apart for less than two hours."

  "Oh, so you're done with me, now?" she asked, playing with her braids. "You tapped it, so now you can go hours without thinking of me, huh?"

  "I can't go a minute without thinking of you, boo."

  That was more like it. His sincerity warmed her.

  "When can I see you again?" he asked.

  "I'll call you after softball practice," she said. "Maybe we can do a late dinner if you get off in time?"

  "Sounds good."

  She fidgeted and bit her lip, briefly, the echoes of Celeste's warnings battering at the ramparts of her conscience. "Miles...are you OK with what we're doing?"

  "More than OK," he said. "Why? You're not?"

  She laughed her relief. "No, that's not what I meant. I just...you know: boundaries."

  "Ah. You wanna get something straight between us."

  "We've done that quite a few times," she said, unable to prevent the smugness in her tone.

  They shared a good laugh.

  "Touché," he said.

  "I guess what I want to know most," she said, "is are we exclusive?"

  "Would you like that?" he asked.

  She paused for a moment, wondering if they were moving too fast. She also wondered how Miles would fit into her world...and how she would fit into his. The racial difference didn't bother her at all now, but it would probably bother others.

  "I do want that," she finally said, so softly that her voice cracked and not all of the words came out. She had to repeat it for him. "How do you feel?"

  He hesitated, then said, "I'm willing."

  Why the hesitation? All sorts of doubts came crashing down on her head. Maybe he was a player, after all. Maybe he didn't feel as strongly as she did. "Are you sure?" she asked.

  "Sure. Listen, I've gotta go make customer contact. Can I call you later?"

  She agreed, and they hung up.

  Shauna tried to concentrate on work, but didn't have much luck. She vacillated between euphoric and anxious all day. She loved how Miles made her feel when they were together. It was more addictive than any drug could be. Yet fear clawed at her heart. What if this overpowering sensation were not mutual? What if he broke her heart? Was he already brushing her off, now that they'd slept together, with his line about the customer?

  She bought a water bottle in the break room, and found Jenny sitting there. Shauna smiled and sat at her table to say hi.

  "Well hello, Miss Boss," Jenny said. "Long time no talk. You too important now to hang out with the peons?"

  Shauna frowned. "I've just been busy, Jenny. It's not easy keeping all you characters in line."

  "Busy, huh?" Jenny dropped her voice to a conspiratorial tone. "Is there a new man in your life?"

  Shauna flinched. "Huh?"

  "Or did Clarence pick up some skills?"

  Shauna's face heated. "Why do you ask?"

  Jenny smiled up at the ceiling and waved her hands as if beckoning snow to fall indoors. "Oh, I don't know...maybe because you're glowing. Maybe because of the whispered phone conversations and giggles when you think nobody's listening."

  "You really are a snoop, Jenny."

  Jenny smiled. "Guilty as charged. So, where did you meet him?"

  "He works at Avcom." The minute the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Yet refusing to talk would be like a slap in the face, after all the personal secrets Jenny had shared since they'd known each other.

  Jenny's eyes widened. "Really? What's his name? What department does he work in?"

  "Slow down, Jenny. I'm not sure where this is going, yet. I'd rather not announce anything until I know it's serious."

  Jenny looked hurt. "At least tell me if he's hourly or salaried."

  Shauna screwed the cap back on her bottle and stood. "Break time is over, girlfriend. Don't make me crack the whip."

  After work, softball practice went about like it always did. None of the girls were as athletically inept as Brad, but they still were not softball players.

  As much as she disliked Port-o-Johns, Shauna had to use one toward the end of practice. As she sat inside one, swatting a pesky fly away, she heard two voices in conversation grow louder as somebody approached.

  "...Wouldn't tell me who, but he works at Avcom."

  Jenny's voice.

  "It's probably one of the managers." This was Brad's distinctive

  lisp. "She might sleep her way right to the top."

  "Maybe that's how she got promoted into Marcie's spot," Jenny

  said.

  "She got promoted because she's black," Brad said. "Let's be

  honest."

  With a horrid sensation, Shauna realized they were talking about

  her.

  "With the minority thing," Jenny said, "and sleeping with the

  right person, there'll be no stopping her."

  "Those enormous udders of hers don't hurt her chances, either,"

  Brad added, snorting a laugh.

&nbs
p; Shocked into paralysis, Shauna sat there in that hot Port-o-John

  until Brad and Jenny were gone. She tried not to cry, but felt a tear

  run down her cheek.

  21

  In between his fourth and fifth job, Miles passed another Avcom van. A few seconds later, his Nextel beeped.

  It was Tyrell Jones. "Yo, Bowser! Wazzup man? How's life in Service?"

  "Not bad," Miles replied. "I'm catching the hang of it."

  "Yeah, well installing for Berger still sucks."

  No surprise there. "Well, I sure don't miss it."

  "Hey, some of us are grabbing lunch at Cici's. You wanna come?"

  Miles thought about it. He would have rejected the offer out-ofhand, but he was feeling magnanimous toward everyone since Shauna had come into his life. "What the hell. I got a little time."

  "Welcome to Cici's!" the staff all called out, loudly, as the cable guys entered the all-you-can-eat pizza buffet.

  In addition to Miles and Tyrell, there were three other installers plus Jason Rumkis. Eating with Rumkis was pushing Miles' magnanimous disposition perhaps a bit too far, but he nonetheless enjoyed the shared anecdotes and trash-talking bull session. Everyone was careful not to badmouth Berger, because Rumkis was a notorious snitch.

  When they finished, and walked outside, Miles and Tyrell's conversation about broadband services was interrupted by a Nextel beep. Tyrell flipped his radio open. "Wazzup?"

  "Yo, man. Wazzup?" Tre' Townsend's voice answered. As if Miles and the other techs no longer existed, Tyrell marched off to his van lost in his new discussion.

  "Goodbye, Jones," Rumkis said, sarcastically.

  "Ain't that a kick in the ass," an installer cracked. "It's like he don't want his 'brothers' to know he socializes with white people. Damn, it's a radio--it's not like his 'brother' can see our faces."

  "Let it go the other way around one time," another installer said, "and just see how long before we find out our 'bigotry has created a hostile work environment'."

  Miles said nothing, though this consistent behavior from Tyrell annoyed him, too.

  As Miles sat in his van in the parking lot, checking his map book for the next job on his route, Rumkis sauntered over with that sinister grin that made you want to vomit. Miles rolled his window down, ready to listen to whatever Rumkis said...rather than ignore him and peel out of the parking lot...because it was not wise to make enemies at Avcom.

  "I heard you got turned down for plant engineer," Rumkis said.

  "Yeah."

  "You know who they gave it to?"

  "I have no idea," Miles said.

  "Townsend."

  This stunned Miles. He knew very little about Townsend, but he sure didn't seem like the engineer type. "I don't know what to think of that."

  "I'd be pissed if I was you," Rumkis said.

  Miles arched an eyebrow.

  "You had him beat every way possible," Rumkis said, "except you're not a nigger."

  "Huh?" Miles wasn't sure he'd actually heard that word spoken.

  "Affirmative Action," Rumkis said. "Stick it to the white male."

  For a brief moment, Miles wondered how he came by this information. But then he remembered that Rumkis was the biggest gossip and suckup in Field Operations, privy to a lot of back office deals.

  He left the parking lot shaking his head, but soon put the matter aside. Memories of Shauna made it nearly impossible to stay unhappy for long. She didn't behave the way Tyrell did.

  Well, she did seem embarrassed to be seen with him in public most of the time, but maybe she would get over that eventually. The stares people gave them could be unnerving, and he had never received them when he was out with women of the same color. In all probability, he and Shauna would always get stares. Shauna was worth learning how to ignore them. He hoped she felt as strongly.

  Overcoming Though she did reflexively try to hide signs of their intimacy from others, one thing she had never done was kick him to the curb for a suitor of similar complexion. And he had no doubt there were plenty. Who wouldn't want a girl like her?

  Her phone call that morning was a pleasant reminder of a spectacular weekend. Her insecurity would probably grate after a while if she didn't get over it, but for now it reassured him that she was as serious as he was.

  He pondered her concern that he was a player. He had never been a womanizer; never wanted to have multiple women on the speed dial, much less engage in all the explanations or lies that would necessitate. This situation with Rita and Shauna was unfamiliar ground, and made him feel guilty even though he'd been honest with both of them from jump.

  Miles only wanted one woman--one who stimulated not just his loins, but his mind and heart, too. Shauna was that woman.

  He remembered their conversation about exclusivity, and scrolled through the numbers in his phone until he found Rita's. He would have to tell Rita the friends-with-benefits arrangement was over. Shauna was definitely worth it.

  He got Rita's voice mail, and left a message that she should call him back as soon as she could.

  He called Shauna in the evening when he had long drive between jobs, thinking she would be at her softball practice and able to talk for a few minutes. She sounded strange--unusually cold and quiet, for her. He asked to see her after work but she had promised Katina a mother-daughter night. He asked her if anything was wrong, but she said no.

  Well, his week of stand-by started that afternoon, anyway. Maybe it was just as well they not get into a date just to have him called out.

  He hung up with a sense of grief. Something had upset her, and he wished he could fix it. But apparently she didn't yet feel comfortable sharing whatever it was with him.

  He decided to get an early start the next morning and buy her some flowers. He could leave them on her desk in the call center and maybe they would cheer her up a bit. Flowers still pleased a lot of women, and Shauna being ultra-feminine, and a nature-sensualist, she was probably one of them.

  22

  The next morning, Shauna still didn't know whether she should say anything to Jenny and Brad or not. Probably not. What good could it do? At least she knew to watch her back around Jenny, now.

  In her mind the cruel hateful words of her co-workers mixed with Celeste's warning about white boys, and Shauna's conversation with Miles in his work van about the black girls from his home neighborhood.

  If Jenny could be so two-faced, who else was?

  She felt dirty. Obviously, others thought she'd been promoted due to a racial quota. Even worse, people were speculating that she would sleep around to get promotions. Brad used the horrible phrase "enormous udders" as if she were a cow. Dirty and fat.

  Had she been promoted because of her color? Not according to what Marcie said.

  Miles said such wonderful things to her. He made her feel beautiful and regal. Were his words heartfelt, or just what he knew she wanted to hear? Did he talk the same way behind her back?

  She went in a little early to catch up on some of what had been pushed to the backburner for the upcoming company picnic. As she walked through the break room, the door on the far side opened and Miles stepped through.

  He grinned when he saw her. "Hey, pretty lady, you're here kinda' early."

  "What are you doing here?" she asked. "Don't you work out of Libra Street now?"

  His smile faded. "I stopped on the way. I left something on your desk."

  "What?" she demanded, snapping the word out.

  Miles frowned. "It's a surprise. Not a bomb or anything, if that's what you're thinking." He approached her with arms outstretched. "Are you OK? You need a hug?"

  She shied away from him, instinctively glancing around to see if anyone could see them through the picture windows.

  Miles dropped his arms, blushing. He fixed her with a bewildered stare.

  Now feeling guilty about hurting his feelings, she tried to make light of it, smiled and forced a little laugh. "Nice to see you. But don't you have to get t
o work? I wouldn't want you to be late."

  "Yeah," he replied, quietly. "Yeah, guess I better." He turned and exited through the door she'd entered through.

  Relieved nobody had seen their exchange, Shauna continued into the call center, through the maze and toward her cubicle. When she reached her desk and saw the bouquet of flowers, she felt as though she'd stabbed herself in the heart.

  What had she been expecting--a kiss-off note? Something that said, "The joke's on you, nigger," signed by Miles, Jenny, Brad and every other white person she knew?

  She cursed her own idiocy and dialed Miles' number. Straight to voice mail-- his Nextel was probably off, charging in the truck. She tried again later--no answer. She tried him throughout the day but it either rang four times and went to voice mail, or she got a recording that said he was unavailable. At each failed attempt to reach him with her apology, she grew more frustrated.

  Finally, at softball practice she snuck away from her team, locked herself in the car and kept hitting redial until he picked up.

  "Wazzup?" he said, in a dull, lifeless voice.

  "I've been trying to call you all day, Miles."

  "Why?"

  "Well, first I wanted to thank you for the flowers."

  "Oh, those did get to you," he said. "I thought maybe I delivered them to the wrong place. I ran into somebody there who looks just like you, but it turned out we didn't even know each other."

  "Miles, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

  "What's that all about, Shauna? Did I do something to piss you off?"

  "No. It's not that."

  "Then what? You're that embarrassed to be seen with me?"

  "You don't embarrass me, Miles."

  "Yeah I do. You don't even like total strangers on a hiking trail to know we're together."

  "I told you, Miles: that's simply because--"

  "Skip it," he interrupted. "How would you feel if I did that to you?"

  She answered without honestly considering his question. "I'd know that you were just a private person, and didn't want to put your love life on display."

  "I see. Look, I gotta let you go and get back to work," he said.

  "You want to come see me when you're done?" she asked.

  "I told you I'm on stand-by," he said. "They've already assigned three jobs, after my last one on the route is finished."