Don't Let the Lipstick Fool You

by Lisa Leslie

  This guy was persistent, though. “Why don’t you give me your number, and I’ll have him call you?”

  I was still pretty leery. After all, I had just met this man, and here he was, in the middle of the airport, asking for my phone number. I looked for Braquel, who was still sitting on the other side of the gate area, not paying the conversation any attention. I knew the right thing to say, and I said it. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Then why don’t I give you his number, and you can call him?”

  “No. I probably wouldn’t call him. I don’t make it a habit to call men. Besides, everyone always tells me that they know a guy who is really tall, and then I find out later that he is maybe six foot two, while I’m a full six foot five.”

  “No. I am positive. He is at least six foot six. He’s taller than you, and he is a really good guy.”

  I do not know if I was intrigued or just trying to get rid of this man. But I still cannot believe what came next. I swallowed hard and said, “How about if you give him my number?”

  No kidding, I gave my phone number to this absolute stranger. I guess I figured that he would give it to his friend and that would be the end of it.

  So I flew back to L.A., and about three days later, the pilot’s friend called me and left a message on my answering machine. “Hi. This is Michael. My friend Rod told me to give you a call. Give me a call back when you get a chance. I look forward to talking with you.”

  I was at my mom’s house, and I said, “Mom. Mom. Listen. This guy called me.”

  My mom listened to the message. “Call him back!” she said right away.

  I did not call him back. But the next day, Michael called again from his home in Miami. I saw his ID on the phone but did not answer. He left me another message. “Girl! I’ve called you twice now. You better give me a call back! No. I’m just kidding. I hope you have a good day. Call me when you get a chance.”

  I let my mom listen to that message, too, and again, she told me to call him. I still was not swayed.

  On the third day, Michael called me and left another message. “Look, girl. Don’t make me come out there and get you. You better give a brother a call back.” He seemed really down-to-earth, and even through the answering machine, he made me laugh. I let my mom listen to this message, too, and she said, “Lisa, this is not right. You should really call him back.”

  I did finally call Michael back, and we talked on the phone for about three hours. By the time the day was done, we had been chatting on the telephone together for close to eight hours. No joke. Those were my first conversations with Michael Lockwood, and I think the beautiful thing about our talks was that we were just being ourselves. There was no façade, no trying to be something that we were not. We were just keeping it real.

  Michael told me about himself, and I told him about myself. We talked about what we liked and disliked, and the main thing that we seemed to have in common was that we were both a little old-fashioned in our thinking, kind of old school. You know, “the man works and the woman stays home” kind of people. It is not easy to make that concept a reality, however, when both people in the relationship have very nontraditional jobs, the way that we do.

  Michael works as a pilot for UPS. He captains a 767 aircraft and flies all over the world. Years ago he played basketball at the Air Force Academy, and he later flew jets in the Middle East as part of Operation Desert Storm. He delivered Patriot missiles to Israel when that country was the target of Scud missile attacks from Iraq, and in 1993 Michael piloted the C-5 Galaxy cargo plane that flew into Somalia, under fire, and flew out with the bodies of the U.S. Marines who had been killed when their helicopter was downed by enemy fire. That scenario was the basis for the Hollywood film Black Hawk Down.

  After that first conversation, Michael Lockwood and I talked every single day. I am not a real phone person, but I could talk to him for hours. He kept calling, and we kept talking. Michael would say, “I have never been on the phone this much with anybody in my life.” I was the same way. It was just amazing how strong our chemistry was from day one. After a few weeks of cross-country long distance, he finally asked me out on a date. Michael called on a Friday and asked, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

  I told him that I had no real plans, just probably a massage or something like that.

  “Would you like to go out?” he asked.

  “Sure, but you’re in Florida.”

  “Hey, hey, hey, I’m a pilot. I will be there tomorrow.”

  So, Michael flew to California and checked into the Sheraton Hotel near LAX. He was going to rent a car, but I told him that would not be necessary. I wanted to pick him up. As I drove up to the hotel, I kept looking in my rearview mirror to see if I could spot him, but before I could, my phone rang. It was Michael. I told him that I had arrived, and he said, “I have too. You better get out of your car and give a brother a hug.” His voice was so nice, but he said so many things that sounded country to me. It was kind of cute.

  Before I got off the phone and out of the car, I caught a glance of Michael standing there, and when I looked at his face for the very first time, I said to myself, That is my husband.

  He came over to me, and I hugged him like he had asked me to on the phone. I noticed right away that Michael had this incredible smile and pretty white teeth. His dark skin looked so beautiful. He had big dark eyes and dark hair, and I loved his long eyelashes. He was very handsome and clean-cut. I was already interested in the man that I knew Michael to be from our phone conversations, and seeing him in person made him even more intriguing to me. I was impressed with his style, his smell, his stature, and those big, broad shoulders. I just loved the way he carried himself, like a real man. Michael Lockwood seemed just right for me.

  When we got in my car, he just stared at me. I could be a little shy at times, and I could not help smiling. Michael said, “Girl, you better say something to me.” He was playing with me. I asked him if he was going to stare at me the whole time, and he told me, “Yes! You are beautiful!”

  We drove to my house, and I fixed breakfast for him: biscuits, sausage, eggs, and home fries. Michael came in and sat down. He was impressed. “Wow! You cook too?”

  “Yeah, I like to cook,” I said. We had breakfast, and everything went really well.

  After breakfast, we went to the Westfield Mall near my house. In one of our phone conversations, Michael had talked about how difficult it was for him, at six foot six, to find tall clothes that fit. I told him that I knew a great place where a lot of the NBA players got their clothes, so we went to the mall, and I picked out several different outfits for him to try on. It was fun. Michael went into the dressing room, and I stayed nearby in case he needed anything. One of the advantages of being so tall was that I could see right over the top of the dressing-room door and into the mirror. I was kind of peeking at him and thinking, Oh wow. He’s got nice legs and nice arms.

  Then Michael would come out wearing a shirt and some nice slacks. I could really see his physique. He had a great body, and that was a big plus! An intelligent man with a really nice body. What woman wouldn’t like that?

  Michael tried on several outfits, and he looked so cute in his XXL-tall Sean John jeans and shirts. He was excited. “I can’t believe these shirts are long enough,” he would tell me. “I’ve never had clothes that were really long enough for me after one wash unless they were custom made.”

  Somehow, fittingly, we shared our very first kiss in that Big & Tall shop. It was kind of cute, because I went up to the dressing-room door again, and I was looking at something that Michael was trying on. He asked me what I was thinking, and I told him, “I like it.”

  He said, “What? The pants or me?”

  I told him, “Both!”

  I do not really remember the moments that led up to the kiss. I know it was just a peck, but we had our first kiss that day at the Westfield Mall. Michael must have bought three or four pairs of pants and shirts that day. It was kind of cool,
because he was really happy, and I was, too.

  We went from the mall to the beach, where the weather was perfect. It might have been the most beautiful December day in the history of Southern California. The temperature was about eighty-five degrees, and it was absolutely gorgeous! There was even a nice breeze, and the sky was cloudless. Michael commented on the beautiful Southern California weather, and we sat on the beach, dug our feet in the sand, watched the ocean, and talked. The setting was really pleasant, and our conversation was, too. I remember looking at him and thinking, Mmmm. He has really nice teeth. His skin is really beautiful, and he has great legs. I was trying to see his toes, but he had them buried in the sand.

  It was an excellent day. Michael was a true gentleman and very kind. I was really feeling him, and I was comfortable talking with him. It started to get a little cool at the beach, so Michael helped me up, and I drove him back to his hotel. He wanted to take a shower and change into some different clothes before dinner, so while he was in the shower, I decided to write him a letter on the hotel stationery. I wrote about what a perfect day it had been and how great it was to finally meet him. I told Michael that it was God’s plan for us to meet and that I was so thankful that we had gotten some quality time together. I left the letter on the bed.

  Michael came out after taking a shower, and my eyes immediately went to the ugly, washed-out black jeans he had put on. I cannot stand black jeans that are washed out! But now I knew why he had really needed some new clothes. (Sorry, babe, but it was true.)

  We had a nice, romantic dinner at a jazz restaurant named Vibrato, and then we fed each other strawberries and whipped cream. Afterwards, I drove Michael back to his hotel, and our first official date was over.

  Shortly after that, we had our second date, when Michael flew out to see me in Lake Tahoe. That was pretty cool. My family and I had gone there right after Christmas to bring in the New Year. Michael stayed for three days. He played games with us and did some snowboarding. We had a really, really good time just hanging out. It was huge for him to meet my family, but I was already sure about him, and I think he became sure about me. The way that Michael describes it, though, he was sure about me a long time before Tahoe…but I will let him explain.

  Michael’s Version:

  Okay. Let’s start at the beginning, when my friend Rod gave me Lisa’s telephone number. I already knew that she was a basketball player, but I will never forget telling him, “Man, I don’t know. Those girls can be kind of rough.” I was not so sure that this was a good idea.

  He said, “No, trust me. You really want to meet her. She is feminine. She is nice and really, really sweet.”

  I was a little nervous, but I figured, You know what, let me get on the computer and Google this girl. A ton of pictures and articles came up, so I started clicking through all the material. She is really pretty, I thought to myself. But pictures, of course, can’t let you know who a person is.

  After three weeks of talking on the phone with Lisa, we finally made a date to meet in Los Angeles. As I was flying from Miami to L.A., I thought, This girl is awesome. She is so sweet and nice. We have the same perspective on life. I have got to see her. I have got to be able to put all these pieces together.

  I knew she was smart, tall, and athletic, but I needed to know if she was FINE. I needed to know what she was working with. God is my witness, I was in the airplane, and I said, “God, just let her have a little bit of booty, too.” I knew that if she had just a little bit, I would be done. It would be all over!

  When I got to Los Angeles, she came to pick me up at the Sheraton Hotel. I still wasn’t sure. I thought, I wonder if she is going to get out of the car? I hope so, because I just have to see what she has going on.

  Lisa ended up getting out of the car and walking toward me. I was walking toward her. She was smiling, and I was smiling. I said, “Come on. Gimme a hug.” She was still facing me, though, so I could not see what I really wanted to see. I was trying to be tactful, trying to steal little peeks over her shoulder, but it just did not work.

  We got in her car and started talking, but she seemed very shy. When we got to her house and went inside, I decided I would eventually get this figured out. Lisa had already made breakfast for me. She said, “Go ahead and take a seat. I have got most of the breakfast cooked already. I just need to warm it up.”

  I was just thrilled. I thought, A woman like that and she cooks, too! I was sitting at the bar. Lisa was looking at me, and then she turned around to the sink. I finally got the view that I had been waiting for. I got my look and said to myself,YES! YES! YES! It is over, Michael Lockwood. She has got it all, and you are done! Let’s face it; a man has to have a visual. A woman might be the greatest in the world, but she still has to have something going on. That is my story, and I am sticking to it.

  After that Christmas visit, Michael and I tried to be together every day that we possibly could. We both traveled so much, but we talked to each other on the phone all the time. That was where our relationship had started, and it never got dull. Sometimes, we just checked in with each other, compared our schedules, and prayed for each other. We enjoyed talking to each other, and we enjoyed each other’s company. Michael told me about his two teenage daughters, Mikaela and Gabrielle. He loves them so much, and I think they are wonderful. I have always loved kids. Michael and I have so many things in common, but we also have enough things not in common to keep life truly interesting.

  Michael loves to travel and go. He is very social, very outgoing. I am more of an introvert. I guess opposites do attract, because he will talk to women, men, boys, girls, and anybody who will listen. That is cool, but it is definitely not me. I think the one thing that we agreed on right away is that relationships are not about trying to change people into what you want them to be. The motto “You be you and let me be me” works for us. We are totally compatible.

  I had always found dating to be difficult because it was so hard to find a man that I could follow, someone who trusted in the Lord and stood for something. He did not have to make a ton of money, but he did need to have morals and values. Michael has so much integrity, and he is a man of his word. When he knows something, he speaks on it. When he does not know, he says, “Babe, I have no idea.” I like that.

  Michael and I are both Christians, and we love the Lord together. Michael is also always caring and considerate, and that is very important to me. From the very beginning, he wanted to take care of me. I had never had that before, and I found it to be very sweet.

  We lived in different places, but we made time for each other. I remember working as a commentator for ESPN’s women’s college basketball Final Four coverage in Indianapolis and him flying in to surprise me. Unbeknownst to me, he had talked with my boss about proposing to me on live television, during the game on ESPN. That idea got shot down, but during halftime, he delivered a little basket with a honey bun to me. Apparently, everybody thought that I had expected an engagement ring to be in the basket, but that thought had never crossed my mind. I was happy about the honey bun.

  After the game, Michael walked me from the television studio to my hotel room. When we got to the room, the lights were off, but there were candles glowing.

  “What’s going on here?” I asked. I still had no clue.

  There were lots of chocolate Hershey’s Kisses on the bed. They were in the shape of a heart that spelled “I love you!”

  I looked at Michael and said, “Oh, babe! Thank you so much!” I was really impressed by what he had done, but I was also exhausted, and I was losing my voice. I had worked a lot during the Final Four weekend. “Thank you so much! This is so sweet!” I added.

  Then I noticed that there was champagne on ice. “Whew! You went all out, didn’t you?” I said. I was excited, but I was really tired.

  “Come here, babe,” Michael said. He was going to kiss me.

  I still had on the heavy make-up that I had worn for the television broadcast and needed to get it off. I s
aid, “Please, babe. Just let me go wash my face. At least let me take this lipstick off.” I wiped off the lip gloss and leaned over to Michael for our kiss.

  “I just wanted to tell you that I asked God and I asked your mom and now I am asking you…”

  He started getting down on one knee, and then it finally hit me. I gasped loudly and could not speak.

  “I was wondering if you would marry me?”

  “YES!!!! OF COURSE!!” I couldn’t say yes fast enough.

  I was really excited. I never had any doubt, any second thoughts, none of that. I did not even cry. You know how you always wonder what you might do if somebody proposes? Well, I had been proposed to twice before, but neither of those compared to what Michael had done. This was the real deal. It was just awesome. We were officially engaged to be married.

  With the previous proposals I had received, I always knew in my heart that that man was not the one God had sent for me. But when Michael asked me, I knew at that moment that he was it, and I heard my heart say yes.

  Now there were wedding plans to make, but there was also a WNBA season coming up soon. During the off-season, the Sparks had hired Henry Bibby, the former NBA player and USC men’s basketball coach, to be our new head coach for the 2005 season. Penny Toler had also pulled off a blockbuster trade that sent DeLisha “D” Milton and a first-round pick to Washington in exchange for Chamique Holdsclaw, who had been the WNBA’s overall number one pick in the 1999 draft.

  I was shocked. D and I had been so close, and she had been a tremendous contributor to the Sparks’ success. There had been rumblings, though, that some of our players were unhappy and wanted bigger roles on the team. There had been a lot of complaints, and some of my teammates had taken those complaints to Penny. I know that one of those players was D, but I will never understand why she got traded. No offense to Chamique, but D is the type of player that I would take into battle any time, any day. I was never really sure if she asked to be traded or if Penny had just had enough of her, but the Sparks lost a lot when D went to Washington.