Bands of Gold

by Angela Benson

  Penny nodded.

  ***

  Angela came for lunch Tuesday. Doris led her to Jackson’s office to wait for him.

  A moment later, Jackson rushed into the office. “Sorry I’m late. I got tied up. How long have you been waiting?”

  Angela stood up. “Don’t worry about it. I haven’t been here long. If today is bad for you, we can reschedule. I know how the days can get out of control.”

  Jackson gave her a kiss on the cheek, then smiled at her. “No, I don’t want to reschedule. I do appreciate your understanding, though.” Jackson looked at his watch, then back to Angela. “How much time do you have?”

  “Actually, I have the rest of the day. I have a promo to record tonight, so I’m free until about seven.”

  “That’s great. If you’ll give me about thirty minutes, I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

  “I think I can manage that. Can a girl get a cold drink around here?”

  Jackson had Doris bring in sodas for them both. Angela worked on her promo while Jackson finished his report. He was almost done when Christina entered his office.

  Christina was about to speak when she saw Angela. “Excuse me. I didn’t know you were busy.”

  Jackson stood up. Was that irritation he saw in Christina’s eyes? He knew it couldn’t be jealousy. Or could it? “Christina Marshall, my friend, Angela Ware.” He gestured to Angela. “Angela Ware, my boss, Christina Marshall.”

  Angela stood and the women greeted each other.

  “You’re on the radio, aren’t you?” Christina asked.

  Angela glanced at Jackson, who shook his head. “That’s me,” she answered.

  “You have a great voice,” Christina said. They exchanged niceties, then Christina asked Jackson a few quick questions about the proposal he had prepared.

  After Christina left, Angela looked askance at Jackson. “So that’s your boss?”

  Jackson nodded.

  “She’s a very attractive woman.”

  Jackson didn’t like the way this was going. He began shuffling papers on his desk. “Yes, if that’s your type.”

  Angela kept on. “And what type is she?”

  Jackson hedged. “You know. All work, no play.”

  “How do you know?”

  Can’t we change the subject? he silently pleaded. “I never see her with anybody. She’s kind of uptight.”

  Angela continued. “That’s not the impression I got.”

  Jackson stopped shuffling the papers. “What did you think?”

  “She came across as a very together woman, but there was also a certain warmth about her. Not exactly charismatic, but close.”

  “Someone you think you’d like to be friends with?”

  Angela thought about it. “Yes. I think Christina and I would hit it off if we were thrown into a social situation,” she answered with a smile.

  Jackson winced. “I’m done here. Let’s go before you decide you’d rather have lunch with Christina.”

  Angela took Jackson to the King Center for lunch. Since it was his first visit, they toured the memorial and the house where Martin Luther King, Jr. had grown up. Afterward, they walked up and down Auburn Avenue.

  “Sometimes I wish I’d been born earlier so I’d have stronger memories of the events of the early sixties,” Jackson said.

  “I know what you mean,” Angela responded. “It’s our heritage and it should be as fresh now as it was then.”

  “Fresh is a good word. We have to keep it fresh so it’ll always be real to us.”

  Angela finished his thought, “Then it’ll keep its value throughout all the coming generations.”

  Jackson thought about his problems with his father and his non-relationship with Christina. “If we kept it fresh, we wouldn’t get sidetracked on trivial issues.”

  “It would keep us looking at our similarities and not at our differences.”

  “I wonder what Martin and Coretta’s relationship was like,” Jackson wondered aloud. “I wonder how he courted her. What he was looking for in a woman; what she was looking for in a man. I bet the words ‘love’ and ‘forever’ had different meanings then.” Jackson was thinking about his mother and father. His mother should have known what “love” and “forever” meant.

  “You sound like a man who’s been hurt.”

  Jackson didn’t want to open up yet. He played it light. “All men have been hurt at some point. It started with Adam and Eve.”

  Angela was direct with him. “If the conversations get too personal, Jackson, let me know and I’ll back off.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to get into it.”

  “Next time just say that.”

  Jackson stopped and tilted her face up to his. “You’re a special woman, Angela.”

  “I know, but it’s good you know it, too.”

  Seven

  Jackson arrived at Hartsfield International Airport an hour before his scheduled six-thirty flight Wednesday night. He had had enough bad experiences with checked luggage that checking his garment bag was not even a consideration. With his briefcase in one hand and his garment bag thrown over his shoulder, Jackson walked from the main concourse to the gate.

  When he arrived, he looked around for Christina. He didn’t see her, so he got his boarding pass and took a seat. He opened his briefcase and pulled out the newspaper, going straight to the comics. Curtis and Doonesbury were his favorite strips. He never missed them. He smiled as he read the day’s installments.

  “Must be good news.”

  He looked over the top of his paper. Christina smiled down at him. She wore casual blue slacks and a pink sweater. She looked like the calm after a long rain. “When did you get here?”

  “I just walked up and got my boarding pass.” She looked at the seats on either side of him. One held his garment bag, the other his newspaper. “Mind if I sit here?”

  He removed the newspaper from the seat on his right.

  Christina placed her garment bag in the seat with his and sat down.

  “You don’t believe in checking luggage either, I see?” He glanced toward her garment bag.

  She shook her head. “Not on your life. I could tell you horror stories.”

  He laughed. “We could have a competition. Something like, ‘Can you top this?’”

  She laughed with him. “Maybe we could get the airline to give bonus frequent flyer miles to the one with the best story.”

  Jackson felt good sharing a joke with her. “I’m sure they’d go for that. Are you looking forward to getting back to Boston?”

  “Not particularly. I never felt like I belonged there. I always knew I was only passing through.”

  “Passing through to where?”

  “Atlanta, of course.” She crossed her legs and began swinging her foot back and forth. “I’d been looking for an opportunity to get back here for the last three years. Actually, I wanted to stay in Atlanta after I graduated.”

  “You went to school here?”

  She nodded. “Spelman and Georgia Tech.”

  “I can’t picture you as a Spelman woman.”

  She stopped swinging her foot and eyed him. “I don’t quite know how to take that. You’d better explain yourself.”

  Jackson smiled at her pretend pique. “It’s nothing bad. Somewhere along the way I picked up that Spelman women were a bit—how shall I put this—bourgeois?”

  “Bourgeois?” Christina laughed, uncrossing her legs. “Is that your way of saying stuck-up?”

  He smiled. “I was trying to be diplomatic.”

  “No need to mince words. There are many different views on the Spelman woman. Like us or not, you have to admit that for the most part, we have a strong sense of self and an assertiveness that is matched only by the arrogance of the Morehouse man.”

  Jackson thought back to his college days. “There are times when I wish I’d gone to a black college. I thought about M
orehouse, but at the time an all-male school was not my idea of a good experience.”

  “Spelman was a good experience for me. There’s something about an environment with all women—all black women. People on the outside looking in only think of the similarities of the student population—all women, all black; but within the gates, we celebrate our differences. I was amazed at the diversity among us.” She paused. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “I think so. At Oberlin, I could look around and see the differences, but then I also saw how much alike we all were.”

  They were silent for a while, then Jackson spoke again. “So you fell in love with Atlanta when you were a student, and always wanted to come back?”

  “That’s part of it. I grew up in Selma. I really wanted to be close to home, and Atlanta was close without being too close.”

  “Sounds like somebody is still concerned about the apron strings. Is it Mom or Dad who’s holding on too tight?”

  She raised her brow. “Mom. Though I’m not sure if it’s her or me who’s holding tight.”

  Jackson understood that. Once again, he wished he could have been closer to his father after his mother had left. “Has the move met all your expectations?”

  Christina thought before answering. Atlanta had been all she’d expected, but she hadn’t been all she’d expected. Maybe this relationship with Reggie would work out and she could move forward with her goals. “In some cases, yes. In others, no.”

  “Your success at work has to be one of the yes ways. What are the no’s?”

  “I haven’t gotten as involved in the community as I’d like. I’ve pretty much focused on work.”

  “It’s only natural, given the new job and all.”

  “I know, but I always envisioned myself being real active in the community, in the local alumnae chapter. That hasn’t been the case.”

  Jackson sensed that she didn’t want to talk about this anymore. Maybe it was getting too personal. He looked toward the gate. Noticing a change in the flight time, he said, “We’re going to be late getting out of here. They’ve pushed our departure time to eight-thirty.”

  Christina looked toward the gate. “A two-hour delay. I can’t believe it.” She stood up. “I’ll check with the attendant.”

  Jackson watched her walk to the gate. He was glad she was in control again. Miss Marshall didn’t like to get too personal.

  ***

  Christina had needed to get up. She knew something like this would happen with Jackson. She felt too comfortable with him. Now, with this flight delay, she’d have even more time to spend with him. She couldn’t keep her guard up all night. After inquiring about the delay, she walked back to her seat.

  “There’s a thunderstorm in Boston. They don’t know when we can leave. Right now, a two-hour delay is their best guess.”

  “It’ll be midnight before we get to our hotel.”

  “At least,” Christina agreed.

  “Are you hungry?”

  Such a simple question. Christina remembered the last time Jackson had asked her to go eat with him. She hadn’t gone then and she wouldn’t go now. “Not really, but you go ahead.”

  “I hate to eat alone. Come watch me?” he pleaded.

  “Who’ll watch our bags?”

  Jackson smiled. “It’s amazing how accommodating an airline becomes in situations like this. They’ll let us leave them behind the counter.”

  “That I don’t believe.”

  “Let’s bet, then. If they let us leave the bags, you go eat with me; if they don’t, you stay here with the bags.” He held out his hand. “Deal?”

  She shook her head, but took his hand. “Deal.”

  She watched him walk over to the gate counter. He said something that she couldn’t hear and the gate attendant shook his head. I knew it, she thought. Jackson flashed a smile and said something else. The next thing she knew Jackson was placing the bags behind the counter.

  Jackson looked over and beckoned her to come to him. She got up and walked over. “What did you say to the guy?” she asked.

  “In my own kind and gentle way, I reminded him of a long-standing principle of customer satisfaction. Now, let’s find a place to eat.”

  Christina wondered exactly what Jackson had said, but before she could inquire further, Jackson was leading her into an eatery.

  “Any preference for where we sit?” he asked.

  She shook her head and he led them to a table in a comer.

  They sat facing each other. She watched him while he studied the menu. He had nut-brown skin and a clear complexion. He didn’t have any hair on his face. She liked that. Sometimes she felt that bearded men were hiding behind their hair. Mustaches were okay, but a clean-shaven man was best. His shoulders were wide, giving him an aura of strength. She knew from memory that his waist was tapered and his buns tight. She smiled to herself.

  “Must be a good thought?” Jackson inquired.

  She was so intent on studying him that she forgot that he could study her as well. How long had he been looking at her? She felt exposed. Did he know what she was thinking? Had he seen her staring? Was she that obvious? “I was thinking about the last time I was here.”

  “What happened?”

  She hedged. “It’s one of those stories that loses something in the telling. What are you going to have?”

  He looked at the menu again. “Nachos and a beer.”

  She laughed lightly. “You don’t look like the beer type. Unless, of course, it’s some expensive imported beer.”

  He laughed, too. “Not even close. I like good domestic beer. Are you going to get something?”

  “Maybe a Coke.”

  “Not a Diet Coke?”

  She shook her head. “Not today.”

  “I like your style,” he said, smiling. “So much so that you can share my nachos.”

  She smiled back. “How generous of you.”

  When the food arrived, Jackson coaxed Christina into sharing the nachos with him. “They’re better with beer,” he said.

  She raised her Coke in mock salute. “Things go better with Coke.”

  They continued in gentle banter while they ate. She enjoyed his company. She had slipped off her shoes, a telltale sign of how relaxed and comfortable she was. She looked at her watch. “We’ve been here almost two hours. I didn’t think it had been that long. We’d better get back to the gate.”

  They got back to the gate to find the passengers boarding. The weather had cleared up in Boston. Jackson got their bags and they boarded the plane.

  They arrived at the hotel around midnight, as Jackson had predicted. Christina checked in first. The hotel had run out of king rooms, so she ended up with a suite. She waited while Jackson checked in. They needed to make plans for breakfast.

  “What do you mean I don’t have a room?” Jackson was asking.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but your reservation wasn’t guaranteed.”

  “There must be some mistake. Of course my reservation was guaranteed.” Jackson was adamant.

  “I’m sorry, sir. Under ordinary circumstances we’d be able to accommodate you, but we have a convention booked. I can try to find you a room at another hotel. It’ll be difficult, though.”

  “By all means, make the calls. I have to have a room.”

  Christina walked closer. She knew what was going on. She also knew that she had a suite, but she didn’t think it wise to mention that to Jackson. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Not unless you want to give up your room or share it with me,” he joked.

  Christina didn’t smile.

  The clerk interrupted, “I’ve tried two hotels with no luck. I may be able to get you at a comparable hotel a bit farther away. What do you think?”

  “Do I really have a choice? Just find me a room.”

  Christina checked her watch. It was close to one o’clock. “Look, Jackson. It’s lat
e. I have a suite. You can take the sofa in the living area. Otherwise, you’re not going to get much sleep.”

  Jackson looked as surprised at her offer as she felt making it. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I’d owe you one.”

  “Sure. We’ll have to flip for the shower.”

  The desk clerk interrupted again, “Ms. Marshall, yours is actually a two-bedroom suite with two baths. You shouldn’t have any problem with privacy.”

  Shows what you know, Christina thought. This clerk must not have seen It Happened One Night. “Thank you,” she said.

  ***

  The two of them rode the elevator to their room in silence. If Jackson hadn’t been so tired, he would have worried about the sleeping arrangements. But it had been a long day and a longer night. All he wanted was sleep. He looked over at Christina. She had to be tired, but she looked fresh and relaxed. He admitted her offer surprised him. He guessed the sleeping arrangements bothered her, too. He noticed she had visibly relaxed when the clerk said hers was a two-bedroom suite. He yawned. “Thanks again, Christina. I probably would have been up all night had you not made your offer.”

  “Don’t think about it. We have a busy day tomorrow and we both need a good night’s sleep.”

  The elevator reached their floor and they got off. Christina unlocked the door to their suite.

  “Not bad,” Jackson said, giving the place the once-over. He inspected both bedrooms and pointing to the one on the right, he said, “You take that one. It has the bigger bathroom.” Jackson began to feel refreshed. He wanted to talk some before going to bed.

  It was not to be. Christina picked up her bag and headed for her bedroom. “Goodnight, Jackson. See you in the morning.”

  Jackson stared dumbfounded at the bedroom door as Christina closed it. He stood there a few minutes before flopping down on the sofa. He yawned again. I really should to go bed, he thought. He heard Christina’s shower come on. With vivid thoughts of Christina in the shower, he took himself off to bed.

  ***

  Christina stepped into the shower. The water felt good against her skin. Her aching muscles and worn nerves welcomed the warm water. She thought about Jackson in the next room and wondered if he was asleep yet. He looked tired, really tired. And women were supposed to be the weaker sex! You’d think the man had been working in the fields somewhere. She smiled. Tough and aggressive in the boardroom, a baby in the bedroom. She shook her head. Jackson might be a baby in the bedroom, but she knew he wouldn’t be a baby in bed.