by Tai Barnett
“My daddy use to call that having a ‘goat’s mouth’. He said that’s what they called it back in the islands,” Michael said.
“Yes, well we all better pray that it’s something good that was predicted, Michael.”
While Vernon and Michael were outside discussing Lauren’s predictions, my mother, father, and brother were all on their way over for our arrival.
Vernon and Michael heard pots clanking on the floor and the food processor starting. They both looked toward the house and started heading towards the kitchen.
“That poor boy don bout to commit one of the three deadly sins up in that kitchen,” said Vernon.
“What is Andrew in there cooking, anyway?” said Michael.
“Oh, Mr. Executive Chef don’ let himself go…making jerk chicken, rice and peas, ackee with codfish, all the Jamaican stuff you know your cousin would die for.”
“Well, I think we should go help him before he blows up the place and himself?” said Michael.
“You mean or before your aunty comes and has a hissy fit, you know how she particular about her Jamaican food,” said Vernon.
“I tell you that boy either a dang fool or…he’s one of the rare good ones,” said Vernon.
“I was saying the same thing the other day V. It seems our dear Natasha has finally lucked out with Andrew. I mean he loves the kids, he accepts her with everything going on. He shows up even when you’re not expecting him. Plus, he is drop dead gorgeous and could melt the panties off a nun with that British accent, OK?” said Michael.
“Who knows maybe one fine day they’ll tie the knot,” said Vernon.
They both entered the back door and went into the humid kitchen. Pots and pans were on every burner. The kitchen counter was covered with produce, seasonings, vegetables and Andrew was sweating profusely.
“You look like you could use a little help, hun. What can we do to help?” said Vernon with his mouth wide open.
“Ohh, thank God! I was trying to accomplish this on my own, with very little success as you can see. Vernon, you can cook the rice and Michael, you may help with the jerking, if you don’t mind.”
“Well, actually, I am better at the rice. Vernon can do the jerk,” yelled Michael.
“Heck…makes no hell of a difference to me. I can cook all these dishes with my eyes closed,” exclaimed Vernon.
They all started laughing.
“Ahh Andrew, can I ask you something?” said Michael.
“Certainly, Michael, what’s on your mind?” Andrew started arranging the seasoned chicken onto the baking sheet.
“You know, well…you and my cousin have been together for quite a while now.”
“Well, officially almost two years,” Andrew said.
“OK, yes.”
“We were just curious, have you two ever discussed marriage before?” Michael asked.
Andrew stopped what he was doing and looked at them.
“Hmm well, Natasha has made it clear to me about her very grim and dismal perception of marriage. I am not sure after what she went through with Nathan and then with Brody that she would even begin to conceive that. And yes, I imagine myself every day calling and on the other end is my wife Mrs. Natasha Kingston answering the phone,” he said while smiling.
“Well, bless your heart! That dere just ’bout dills my pickle. You really love that gal, don’t cha?” said Vernon.
“You really both have no idea. I loved her from the first day I saw her on the internet, and when we met in person, it was the confirmation that I had been waiting for.”
“So, you loved her before you even actually met her in person?” said Michael.
“Sounds strange but, yes.”
“Huh-ah, that ain’t strange at all. Why Miss May said she dreamed about her husband, Rufus, from when she was a youngling. She said when she saw him she knew from those big ole bat ears and crooked teeth that it was the same Rufus that she seen in her dream when she was just ’bout ten years old. Well, they have been married over 56 years now! So that must be fate huh?” Vernon said. He took a pot and started filling it with water from the faucet.
“Well. Y’all know me, I don’t know about all those spiritual and superstitious stuff, though. I just don’t believe in that kinda thing,” said Michael.
“Hmm, well, may I share something with you?” said Andrew.
“When I was a boy, I would always dream about being on a beach alone. But the beach looked dreamlike—with strange unfamiliar colors and I remember distinctly gazing at the light blue luminescence of the tide. Although it seemed to be nighttime, the sky looked glowing with a rainbow of colors I had never seen before. It was beautiful. I would close my eyes and feel the breeze rubbing against my face and there was like an enchanting ambient-like music. The strangest thing was, I never felt alone, and it always seemed as though I was waiting for someone. As I got older, my dreams became a bit different. I started seeing the shape of a female figure walking from the distant seashore towards me. But years later in my late teens, I saw the same woman appearing in several dreams. Each setting was different—resembling the past. But at the end of every dream, we would always meet on a big cliff overlooking a beautiful scenery of Japanese cherry blossoms,” Andrew said.
“Well, that dere sounds like such a wonderful fantasy,” Michael said.
“But, I am not done. You see, it wasn’t until my older brother Tristan, who is a Parapsychologist and hypnotherapist and his colleague—a well-respected psychiatrist was doing a study on Dreams, Reincarnation and the Effectiveness of Past Life Therapy.”
Andrew continued to explain that he matched one of the ideal criteria for a participant in the study. When he went through the process and got hypnotized, the results of the report were astounding for his brother and his colleague, but especially for him.
“They described my visions of being married several times to a woman matching the description in my dreams. Surely, though ethnicity may have varied but the soul and certain specific features were constant. They went on further to describe how devastated I had been when she was killed in a plane crash. They described the anguish and agony I was feeling of waiting to be reunited with my soul mate. After doing some reading, I found out that in some circles, they believe that we all have many soul mates and they fall into varying categories. And that when you do find that soul mate or intimate partner, you would know it instantly. Well, all I can say is, I know for a fact that Natasha Bishop is one of my soul mates.”
Well I guess the old proverb you can’t have your cake and eat it too, had completely slipped my mind. You see, I won’t lie to you, I knew that Andrew was one in a million, one of the good ones. But somehow, somewhere along the line, I thought I could have the best of both worlds. Little did I know that it would bite me hard in the ass one day.
Secret Meetings
Do you ever get that terrible gut wrenching feeling sometimes, that you were a two-timing bitch who knew that her faithful and unmistakably stunning boyfriend deserved better than her?
Yet, you position your body a little bit better on all fours so that your secret lover—who just happens to conveniently be the father of your child—will have a better angle to slip it in.
Right now, I felt like I am definitely an awful human being. But let me digress for one bit.
It’s been several months since I returned home from Scotland. I am increasingly surprising myself about my potential and my cunning appetites. It seemed so effortless, too.
Perhaps, because I justify it by knowing that I am still in love with Brody, I have his son and I have been innocent and faithful all my life. It was now my chance…my deserved opportunity, to have some fun with the man I have dreamed of being with all my life.
Five months after leaving Scotland, Brody and I were meeting secretly in New York where we both were working on projects. He was there for a photo shoot for GQ Magazine and I was there to appear on a famous late night talk show.
I can’t believe this is
what I was reduced to.
I thought to myself while waiting for Brody inside this grand hotel lobby. I was seated on one of the blood red quilted lounge chairs in the luxurious atrium with my sunglasses and designer hat trying to ward off as much attention as I could. I stuck my face in my newly bought Times Magazine and looked at my gold wristwatch. Brody was running late now, and it was not my habit to stay at any one place, at home or in public, for too long without being spotted.
Fifteen minutes later, I saw Brody walking in with his publicist Oscar, who I was not expecting. Something was definitely strange.
“Oh, hey hun, sorry I am running a little late. Oscar and I were doing some damage control,” Brody walked over, gingerly bent over and kissed me on the cheeks then stood beside me while I remained seated.
"Well, what’s going on? Is everything alright? I was getting flustered and very worried now that we had been caught.
“Ohh…I, my dear Natasha—” Oscar said while he kissed me on one cheek and then the other.
I knew Oscar from my first meeting with Brody. He was an exquisite and fine Peruvian with shiny jet-black hair that was oiled neatly back. He was average height and had magnetic cat-like eyes, he was pleasant and debonair. And I eventually learnt that Oscar was a devoted family man and husband.
“Oh…no need to be alarmed just yet! I managed to buy you guys some time to carry on with your…ah meeting here.” Brody and I glanced at each other and then back at Oscar. “I had to offer 10,000 dollars for two of your photos that were taken back in Scotland.”
Oscar was a principled man, but he was also very good at what he did. He looked at me, then at Brody and then looked at the floor for a few seconds.
“But I must warn you that whatever this is that’s going on here, won’t be kept a secret for much longer…you know that, right?” Oscar said while looking at both of us.
Brody looked at me without any reaction and then looked back at Oscar. I couldn’t believe that this was happening and that at least one person knew about my little, yet, very big, dark and horrid secret with Brody.
Oscar turned slightly and looked behind him and then looked back at us. He placed his hand beneath his chin while looking at the floor once again and walked closer toward us.
“What is it exactly that is going on here, guys? Because let me be honest, I don’t see this ending well at all. So, you might as well be straight up with me so that I will be more prepared to deal with damage control.”
Oscar looked at me.
“Natasha dear, I would recommend you do the same with your publicist Frank—”
“No need for anything further, Oscar. We will take it from here. Some of the rumors are true, Charles is my son and Natasha and I…and the family have been spending more time together…that’s the damage control!”
Oscar sighed as he started pacing the floor then unbuttoned his jacket while he walked over to one of the chairs, sat down and crossed his leg.
He sighed heavily a second time.
“Hmm…so…I have your absolute word on this. Both of you, there is nothing going on between you and Natasha?”
Oscar looked at me and I looked at Brody.
“The truth is this, no matter what you feed those paparazzi and media bastards, they’re going to make up some lie about us anyway. You damn well know this as much as we do, Oscar. I don’t need to justify what I do to any of them, so let them go ahead and talk if they dare. Anyhow, Tasha, it’s getting late dear. We should be on our way and I am sure Oscar has a plane to catch,” Brody looked at me and held out his hand.
Oscar stood and looked into my eyes while he adjusted the sleeves of his finely made tailored suit. I could see that he could tell that we were seeing each other and hiding it.
I sighed, while standing and I took my white purse, placed it under my arms and black fur coat and threw it over my shoulders. I walked over to Oscar and kissed him on both cheeks while Brody waited for me. I then went back to Brody and held his hand.
“It was so nice seeing you again, Oscar, please say hello to your wife Carol for me.”
“Oh, the pleasure is always mine my dear. I hope you yourself will soon send me an invitation of your marriage…very soon, I hope.” Oscar replied.
I looked back at Brody and he sighed while placing my hands firmly beside his. He was gaping crossly at Oscar now.
“Oh well, certainly you and your wife will be one of the first to get an invite.”
“See you in two months Brody,” Oscar said as he walked away.
“OK…call you later on in the week, safe trip now,” Brody exclaimed.
I went back and sat on the chair, I couldn’t believe that this was happening to me and I had no idea what to do because I had mixed feelings. And, I was not ready to end…whatever this was that was happening between Brody and I. At least, not yet.
“So, aren’t you ready to go upstairs? Why are you sitting back down?” Brody inquired.
“I don’t know. This is all just—you know that I am not this kind of girl Brody. I mean what’s really going on here? Probably we should just end it—”
Brody walked over towards me and gently took my hand and helped me up. I could feel him intentionally rubbing his body next to mine because he knew his very touch ignited my urge to get in bed with him and certainly left me vulnerable.
He looked down into my eyes while caressing the side of my hand with his fingers.
He sighed deeply.
“Am I going to have to lift you in front of the entire lobby and take you up to my room or are you going to go upstairs with me like a good girl?” Brody whispered.
That bastard, he knew exactly what to say to get me weak.
He was like the depraved demon Incubus, whispering his seductive lies into my ears, anchoring my loins into a frozen position for him do with it as he will.
He took my hand as we walked toward the elevator.
So, now, I get back to telling you how guilty I was feeling with him positioning himself from behind. But that thought quickly ran away by the time he started prodding his eight and half inches of potent and steady love inside of me.
After a few hours of overly anxious lovemaking, I was sitting up in bed checking my messages with the silk sheets hiding my naked body. By my second social media scan, I caught Brody finishing off a bottle of beer while standing naked at the bathroom door.
It was odd because he was staring at me intensely and his eyes were almost piercing into my soul while he held back his head to finish off the rest of his beer.
“Why are you looking at me like that? And would you mind putting on some clothes?” I said while giggling.
“Ahh, no way! I’m not done with you yet—” Brody said while walking over and sitting at the edge of the bed.
“Why should I be ashamed? I am confident being naked, never had a problem with that. I have no idea why you keep hiding that sexy body of yours either,” he said.
“Brody, you know how I can be sometimes.”
“Yes, I do. But it makes no damn sense you know. You should be the same. I mean look at you, you’re just so…stimulating and gorgeous, inside and out.” he said while he placed the beer on the table and laid beside me on the bed.
I looked at him with my eyes above my reading glasses. I was beaming with pleasure just hearing him talking about me like that.
“And, we make beautiful children together—at least, so far,” he said, looking brazenly at me while rubbing his sturdy hands against the side of my thighs.
I sighed, for this man was just playing with my feelings now. What was he saying? That he wanted me to be the mother of his other children now? Oh, please!
“Ha—send me an invitation!” Brody muttered while he laughed, scrutinizing me still and rubbing my legs.
“Oh my God! I completely forgot about that. You know Oscar has always been direct right?”
“Yes, well, he is marrying you off on me and I am not sure I would take too kindly to that just yet.”
>
I breathed heavily while removing my glasses and rubbed my eyes as I looked back at him. What was Brody Banister thinking now?
I wanted to ask him if he loved me as much as I loved him. I wanted to ask him if he was ready to spend the rest of his life with me because I would perhaps consider doing the same with him. But I just couldn’t, because I was too afraid that I would push him away and he would start just blaming me, which he usually does anytime the conversation became too serious.
“Well, I don’t know. Perhaps, it’s time I do settle down and stop with whatever this is, I mean I really need to stop this!” I said
“So, you’re saying you might just end up marrying that boyfriend of yours after all?” he said sardonically.
I never wanted to say the next words, but the thought of marriage had me thinking now. And Andrew was just an ideal man, and this was obviously getting nowhere with Brody—and it never will.
“Brody…we can’t see each other after tonight, OK? I am dead serious, this is it! We have to focus on Charles and move on with our partners.”
And after a long three-minute speech that would, hopefully, work on his conscience. He only gave me that penetrating stare once more, then he walked to the other side of the bed and pulled my legs to the edge of the bed. He rancorously threw the sheets from off me and yanked me even closer towards him.
He looked into my eyes and grunted.
“OK. But then, I want to make love to you over and over again for the rest of night, so that I will never forget what it feels like being with you.”
Flat Tire
I constantly wondered about that ‘synchronicity’ thing that Vernon was talking about, and I wasn’t the only one either. Lauren had her fair share of considerations about what love, life and relationship was all about.
Was the accidental death of Conner exactly that, a wrong time and wrong place situation? Or did something more systematic—something more supernatural or transcendental orchestrated the specific timing when love would be snatched away from her? Even so, how could she move on, without her love, or to believe that anything or anyone in her life was to stay and with good reason.
