by E. N. Joy
“Let me guess,” Hannah interrupted. “A client.”
“Well, as a matter of fact—”
“And the battery ran down on your cell phone?”
“Well—”
“And there wasn’t any other phone in the gosh darn city that you could have picked up and called your wife with, who was worried to death about where you were?”
“By the time I realized how late it was, there wasn’t any need in calling. I figured I’d just wake you up anyway, so I decided to drive on home. And besides, you didn’t look too worried to me,” Elkan shot back. “Looks like that bottle of Zinfandel you were hugged up with kept you company enough.”
“Well, if you keep it up, that’s not going to be the only thing that keeps me company!” On that note, Hannah slammed the phone down, immediately regretting her last comment. But at the same time, she was furious.
She wanted to believe that everything Elkan had told her was the truth, but it was just so hard sometimes. As far as she knew, Elkan might not have even come in last night, but this morning instead—thankful that she was in a drunken coma, unable to badger him regarding his whereabouts.
She looked down at her new lingerie purchase, on which she had spent almost a hundred dollars. She couldn’t imagine what man in his right mind would have seen a girl dressed in that, inebriated and just waiting to be taken advantage of, and simply thrown a cover on her. Is he not attracted to me anymore? Hannah thought.
Before another thought could cross Hannah’s mind, she found herself bent over the toilet, the salmon not tasting nearly as good coming up as it had going down. “How did I end up here?” Hannah asked herself out loud, wondering if she was referring to where she was at physically, which was hurled over the toilet puking her guts out, or where she was at mentally; once again, doubting her marriage . . . doubting herself.
Chapter 10
“I went online today and priced tickets for Vegas,” Dawson said as Locksie sat down next to him on the couch with her dinner plate in hand. She had prepared one of Dawson’s favorite light meals; cabbage, candied carrots, fresh string beans and sweet cornbread. He wasn’t big on meat, but Locksie was, so her plate had a chicken breast she had prepared on her George Foreman grill.
“Vegas?” Locksie questioned as she set her plate down on the TV tray in front of her.
“Yeah, you remember—” Dawson started before he realized that Locksie had bowed her head, closed her eyes, and was mumbling.
After she finished whatever it was she had mumbled, she opened her eyes and took a bite of her chicken breast. With her mouth full, she then looked over at Dawson, who was looking at her dumbfounded. “Do I remember what?” she asked, catching a piece of food that had fallen from her mouth.
Dawson cleared his throat, now a little embarrassed that he hadn’t blessed his own plate of food. But he never had before, unless it was Thanksgiving dinner at his mom’s house or something.
“Oh, yeah, like I was saying,” Dawson said. Before I was rudely interrupted by your conversation with God. “You remember my boy, Daryl? Him and his girl, Angie, are getting married. They’re going to Vegas for their honeymoon the first couple days after the wedding, and then the entire bridal party, friends and family and whoever else wants to join them in Sin City for a celebration is invited.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m definitely trying to do that,” Locksie confirmed.
“Cool,” Dawson said as he lifted a forkful of cabbage to his mouth. Before putting the food in his mouth he said, “You are talking about Vegas, right? You trying to do Vegas, not trying to get married?” Dawson winked.
“Boy, you stupid,” Locksie said, jokingly hitting him on the arm. Playing, but not so much playing, Locksie shot back. “But actually, I wouldn’t mind doing the married thing either,” she said nonchalantly, eating one of the carrots and then chasing it with a bite of cornbread.
“Shoot, I think the game is on and I’m missing it,” Dawson said, clearly diverting Locksie. He reached for the remote and began flicking the channels.
“What game?” Locksie asked.
“Uh, uh,” Dawson stammered snapping his fingers a couple of times as if he were trying to jog his memory.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Locksie said, throwing her fork onto her plate.
“Girl, you know I’m just playing with you,” Dawson said, pulling her close and kissing her on the forehead. “And I know you just playing too. Ain’t nobody really thinking about getting married. I mean, our life is fine how it is. Why go messing it up?”
“Messing it up?” Locksie said, sounding offended. “So, marrying me would be messing things up? You don’t see vowing to spend the rest of your life with me as making things better, but instead as messing things up?”
By now, Dawson could see that Locksie was dead serious. The joke, if it ever was one, was over.
“You know I don’t mean it like that,” Dawson said.
“Then what do you mean?”
“I just mean marriage ain’t nothing but a piece of paper and two words—‘I do.’ But I got three words for you. I love you. That’s all that should matter.”
“I beg to differ. Marriage is a union. It’s you and the person you love becoming one. In Ohio, they don’t even recognize common law marriage anymore. So if the law doesn’t even recognize what we have, what makes you think God will?”
Dawson closed his eyes and shook his head. He then carefully pushed his dinner tray away from him and stood up. He exited the great room. Locksie could hear his footsteps on the hardwood floors of the foyer. She heard him grab his keys off the table.
“Where are you going?” she called to him.
“To the gym. I’ll be back once the words your aunt Mary has been putting in your left ear hurrys up and drips out of the right.”
“This has nothing to do with my aunt Mary,” Locksie said as she hurriedly moved her TV tray and met Dawson at the front door, which he had opened and was about to exit.
“Like heck it doesn’t,” Dawson snapped. “Every few months it seems she starts feeding you all this hell and damnation, sin and abomination crap, and then that’s when—and that’s the only time—when you get on this marriage kick. Look, we both agreed in the getty-up that we weren’t on that marriage thing. Now, if your mind is changing, let me know, because mine isn’t.”
Locksie threw her hands up and walked away as she heard the door close behind Dawson. “My mind isn’t changing,” Locksie yelled as she flopped down on the couch. It’s everything else that’s changing . . . and I can’t seem to make it stop.
“Baby, I’m sorry about tonight,” soft lips whispered in Locksie’s ear, waking her from her sleep.
She hoped the tears she had used to cry herself to sleep hadn’t left any traces. The last thing her pride wanted was for Dawson to know his words had affected her so much that they brought her to tears.
Without saying a word, Locksie put her arm around Dawson’s neck and brought his face against hers.
“You know I love you, girl,” Dawson confessed. “And who knows? We probably will get married some day. It’s just that—”
“Shhh,” Locksie said as she placed her index finger on Dawson’s lips and then replaced her finger with her tongue. Apology accepted.
Before Locksie knew it, her body was rocking back and forth with Dawson’s. As they entered the point of no return, they trembled. A few minutes later, Locksie listened as Dawson entered the bathroom and turned on the shower. Water of its own fell out of Locksie’s eyes.
In the dark bedroom, suddenly a streak of light came from the bathroom as Dawson cracked open the door and stuck his head out. “You want to join me?”
In hell? Locksie thought as she feigned sleep so that she wouldn’t have to reply to her lover’s invitation. She knew that stepping into that shower would be stepping into round two of lust, and if she wasn’t careful, she might just get knocked out. But there had been weekends when she and Dawson had locked themselves u
p in the house and done the full twelve rounds. She never worried then, so why was she worried now? What’s happening to me? What’s happening to us?
Chapter 11
“She’s just completely trippin’ now,” Dawson fussed through his cell phone and into his brother’s listening ear. “I mean, last week, after we got finished doing the do, I wanted seconds so I invited her into the shower with me and she pretended to be ’sleep.”
Drake chuckled. “Man, how do you know she really wasn’t ’sleep?”
“Man, I just knew. We close like that. I even know when she’s watching me sleep. I feel her.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Shakespeare. So, what did you do?”
“Nothing. I just closed the bathroom door and let her be. But I mean, what’s really going on here? Am I not good enough for her anymore?” Dawson got real serious. He looked around the living room, knowing that Locksie was at work and he was the only one at home. But for what he was about to say, he needed reassurance. “Do you think I need that stuff they be showing on that commercial? The stuff where the men couldn’t keep a woman before they took that little pill, then suddenly their women have smiles on their faces that can’t be peeled off?”
“The one where you have to call your doctor if after four hours you still have an—”
“Yeah, yeah, that one,” Dawson said, embarrassed.
Drake couldn’t contain himself at that point and just exploded with laughter.
“What’s so funny? I’m serious,” Dawson said, but Drake was laughing too loud to hear him. “Man, I knew I shouldn’t have said anything to you. I don’t even know why I keep talking to you about this subject matter anyway.” Dawson was upset now. “I’ve been doing just fine without your help.”
“Obviously you haven’t been doing just fine.” Drake continued laughing. But then sensing his brother’s frustration, Drake ceased his laughter and calmly told his brother, “Because God sent you to me.”
“Huh?”
“God sent you to me to discuss this subject matter because He knew I would understand and be able to minister to you on it.”
“But you don’t know what I’m going through. You’re a . . .”
“But I know what Locksie is going through, and if I can help you understand her, then maybe you’ll get a better understanding of yourself.”
“All right, all right, I get it,” Dawson said in defeat. “It’s just so confusing because one minute she’s giving it up like she always has, and then the next minute she’s got it on lock. I just want my old Locksie back. She’s lost somewhere in this new Locksie I share my bed with, and I don’t even know where to begin to look to find her. What am I supposed to do?”
Drake took a deep breath. “Some unknown person once said, ‘a woman’s heart should be so hidden in Christ that a man should have to seek Him first to find her.’ Maybe both you and Locksie are seeking out the wrong person to talk to and confide in. Perhaps I’m wrong. Maybe it’s not me or her aunt Mary you guys should be talking to.”
Dawson thought for a minute, wondering who else there was to talk to. “Oh, you got me twisted. I ain’t about to go to no shrink or counselor or anything and discuss my sex life.” Dawson shook his head in refusal as if Drake could see him through the phone.
“I’m not suggesting you do that.”
“Well then, if not a shrink or a counselor, who should Locksie and I go to?”
“Do I really have to say the answer to that question?”
“Delilah, I’m heading out to meet a potential client, so please forward my calls to your phone and take a message. Voicemail is a blessing, but you know how I am about our clients talking to live people,” Drake said as he whisked through the lobby and out the door.
“Yes, sir,” Delilah, the receptionist, stated.
As the Moses of his graphics firm, Drake knew he had plenty of Aarons under him whom he could send to meet with clients. He had trained each member of his management team himself and knew they were capable of roping in new clients just as well as he did. But Drake had made a personal commitment to himself to perform the initial consultations with prospective clients. He wanted them to know how much their business meant to him, no matter how big or small the project.
When Drake arrived at the Hilton Hotel at Easton, where he arranged to meet all of his clients because of the elegant atmosphere and the best cook-to-order buffet in the city of Columbus, he still had ten minutes to spare before his client was expected to arrive.
“Mr. Trinity,” the hostess said when Drake walked into the restaurant. “Shall I direct you to your favorite table?”
“Certainly, Trina, if it’s available,” Drake stated.
“How many guests will you be meeting with today?”
“Just one other person.”
“Fine,” the hostess replied, grabbing one menu. “Right this way.” She knew that Drake would be partaking in the buffet, so there was no need for her to give him a menu, but she’d give his guest the option.
Once Drake was seated, his waitress came over and took his drink order. When she returned with his lemon water, following her was the hostess, and behind her was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
“Mr. Trinity, your guest,” Trina said, moving aside so that the woman could take her seat.
As the waitress placed Drake’s lemon water down in front of him, she turned to his guest and asked if she could take her drink order.
“Lemon water will be fine with me also,” the woman stated as both the hostess and waitress walked away. “It’s so good to meet you, Mr. . . .” She extended her hand to Drake, who stood up to greet her.
“It’s Trinity,” Drake told her.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Trinity, it’s just that my partner called me last minute to come meet with you because he had a family emergency. Your name didn’t stick with me. But thank goodness when I told the hostess I was here to meet someone regarding graphics she knew exactly who you were. When she said your name, it rang a bell. But I feel so rushed and last minute, that by the time I made it over here to the table, it had slipped my mind just that easily.” She hated rushing to do things last minute. It always made her feel nervous and unprepared.
“Don’t worry about it,” Drake told her after shaking her hand. “That explains why the gentleman I set up the appointment with, who had such a deep voice, doesn’t fit the face that sits before me.” They laughed.
“Yes, Reggie said he tried to call your office, but that you had already left. He sends his regrets for not being able to make it personally.”
“Again, not a problem.” Drake smiled while saying a silent prayer to God for making whatever events take place so that he could be sitting across from such a beautiful creation and not some huge male ego. He usually got stuck with the type of men who pretended to know more about graphics than he did; although they were, at the end of the day, hiring him to do the job.
For a moment, silence rested between them.
“Your water,” the waitress interrupted. “Have you two decided on what you’d like from the menu, or will you be having the lunch buffet?”
“I’ll have the lunch buffet,” Drake stated as his guest followed suit.
“Fine, then by all means, you may head to the buffet whenever you’d like.”
“Well, shall we?” Drake nodded to his guest as the waitress removed the menu from the table and left.
“Yes, we shall,” she replied.
Drake took her hand and aided her in standing up. He then allowed her to go first toward the buffet. After she took two steps in front of him, he already knew he’d have to repent to God for admiring her plump, round apple bottom.
Drake was surprised at himself, not only because he was allowing his flesh to get the better of him, but because never in his life had he been attracted to a woman outside of his own race. But as he lost the battle and kept looking at her rear end, he just knew she had to have some black in her bloodline somewhere in order to have all that junk i
n her trunk.
“Now I’m the one who is embarrassed,” Drake said as the two of them made their way into the buffet area. “I didn’t even bother to ask you your name.”
“Oh, forgive me,” she turned and said. “I let the thought of getting to this delicious food take over my mind. I’m Hannah. Hannah Oxford.”
“It’s a pleasure . . .” Drake looked at the wedding band on her hand. Disappointed, he stated, “Mrs. Oxford.” Drake rememberd reading a passage in the Bible that said even if a man looks at a woman with lust in his heart, he is already guilty of adultery. He wondered how in the world he was supposed to have lunch with the lovely woman before him and still talk business.
God, help me! Drake silently cried out. God, help me.
Chapter 12
Hannah couldn’t believe how well her lunch meeting with Mr. Trinity had gone. She had even managed to get him to knock twenty-five percent off of the standard package he and Reggie had initially discussed. She’d have to look into using him for some of her clients with larger advertising budgets. Hannah knew that Locksie would have a fit if she found out that she was using this new agency instead of Dawson’s brother, not realizing that the two were one in the same.
Locksie had mentioned to Hannah that she could connect her to Dawson’s little brother, as she always referred to him, but Hannah was comfortable with the smaller agencies she had been working with. Once she had found and been pleased with the companies she used regularly, she simply decided to stick with them. But even though this Mr. Trinity ran a larger agency, he seemed different; more personable and attentive with his clients. Hannah bet that Dawson’s little brother wouldn’t tear himself away from all of his huge business ventures to have lunch with a little client such as herself. She decided she wouldn’t even mention it to Locksie at all. She didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
