A Wife for Stephen

by Valcine Brown

  “ No, Celeste,” she says to herself, “You are reading entirely too much into one stupid little dream.”

  Climbing from her bed, she stretches her muscles and proceeds to make her bed. Seeing that Thomas has already vacated his spot on the bed, she knows that he must be in the back yard taking care of his business. She dresses for her morning walk with Thomas

  Looking at herself in the mirror, Celeste gives herself a muchneeded pep talk. “If you want to accomplish your goals, you better stay focused. There would be nothing worse than to lose everything you’ve accomplished up to this point over some man. Get a grip,” she chides herself sternly.

  Breakfast for Celeste consists of a bowl of cold, multigrained cereal that is low in sugar, and a glass of orange juice. Setting her dishes in the sink, she calls for Thomas. “Come in boy; it’s time to eat.”

  Hearing his master call, he quickly runs into the kitchen through a doggy door that has been placed in lieu of the traditional sliding glass doors. Coming to sit at Celeste’s feet, he looks up at her with big brown eyes.

  Celeste knows that Thomas is awaiting the inevitable response of getting his head scratched, so she obliges him. “How are you doing this morning? Are you ready to eat?” Celeste asks. In response to the same question she asks before every meal, Thomas barks a doggy “Yes.”

  Celeste mixes Thomas’ dry food with his can food. After she sets it on the floor, Thomas goes over to the bowl and begins to eat from it hungrily. Picking up Thomas’ water dish, Celeste takes it over to the sink to wash it and refill it with fresh water.

  While waiting for Thomas to finish his meal, she goes over to her answering machine sitting on the desk to see if there were any messages left while she was at the concert last night. There are four messages. Celeste reaches into the desk drawer to retrieve her notepad and a pencil while pressing play on the digital answering machine.

  The first message is from her secretary, Joanna, who is calling to inform Celeste that her 9:30 am appointment has been canceled and rescheduled for Thursday of next week. Nothing noteworthy there, thinks Celeste as she presses the erase message button.

  The second message is in Spanish with someone asking Emily to pick up if she’s home. “Now do I sound like Emily?” says Celeste to the answering machine as she again presses the erase message button.

  The third message is most surprising. It is from Stephen. “I just wanted to tell you that I enjoyed meeting you this evening. I hope you made it home safely. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”

  “What in the world?” Celeste asks looking up at the ceiling. “How did he get my phone number?” Before the question is entirely off her tongue, Celeste already knows the answer, “Jenny.”

  “Me and that girl are going to have a serious talk,” says Celeste while pressing the erase message button.

  The fourth message is also from Stephen, “I just wanted to leave you my phone number in case you want to get in touch with me.” Listening to him recite the phone number, Celeste doesn’t write it down. An overwhelming feeling that Celeste can’t quite describe, but strangely feels like fear, engulfs Celeste. She reaches out to press the erase message button but pauses with index finger poised just millimeters from its smooth surface.

  Feeling her pulse begin to quicken, Celeste’s mind goes round in circles, press the button, no, save as a new message. Being the analytical type that Celeste is, she begins to reason in her own mind. If I erase the number, I definitely won’t be able to call him back, should I decide I want to. But why would I want to call him back, he might be psycho or something. Yeah, but you never know. Yeah, that’s right, you never know! But I could always write down the number and decide later if I ever want to use it. That’s what I’ll do.

  Replaying the message, Celeste jots down the number and then erases the message. As she slips the notepad back into the desk drawer, she sees Thomas entering the room carrying his leash in his mouth. This is Thomas’ subtle way of saying that he has finished eating and is ready for his morning walk.

  “You are such a good boy, Thomas,” Celeste says as she crouches down and takes the strap from him with her left hand and begins to rub and pat his head with her right hand. From the day she brought Thomas home when he was only five months old, he has amazed Celeste with his ability to comprehend and even carry out specific commands.

  Over the past four years, the two of them have come to be true companions. There are very few places that Celeste doesn’t take Thomas. He is such a well-behaved dog that Celeste even takes him to the beauty shop where she goes. To Celeste, Thomas is her baby.

  Celeste had always wanted a dog when growing up, but her mother always said no, emphatically. Celeste never did come to understand why her mother was so against letting Celeste have a pet of any kind.

  When Celeste was fresh out of university, Master’s Degree in hand, with a major in Advertisement and a minor in Drafting and Computer Imagery, she had adopted herself a pet.

  Being as picky as Celeste is, it had taken Celeste a whole week with a visit to fifteen animal shelters before she found Thomas. Sitting in his kennel as she walked down the aisles surveying all the puppies that were awaiting adoption, he immediately caught her attention. He sat patiently inside the crate about a foot from the opening, eagerly wagging his tail. It wasn’t until Celeste knelt down in front of the kennel and held out her hand and said, “Come here, Boy,” that Thomas rushed up to her.

  He gently licked at her hand and held his chin up for her to scratch the underside of his jaw. He soon felt comfortable enough to lie down on his back and offer his belly to be petted. Celeste had read that this was a good sign of submissiveness. Having previously purchased and read many books and magazines on the subject of pet ownership and how to select your pet, Celeste felt confident that this was who she wanted to take home.

  As she rose, Thomas again got into a sitting position. He looked up at her with sad eyes as if to say, ‘Don’t you want me?’

  “Yes, I do.” Celeste had said to Thomas. Looking at John, the gentlemen who worked the shelter, she said confidently, “I want this one.”

  “Excellent choice. I’ll go get the paperwork started. If you’ll just follow me?”

  “Well what about Thomas?”

  Looking at Celeste with eyebrows raised in confusion, “Thomas?” John asked.

  “My puppy,” remarked Celeste while pointing at the puppy she had just picked out.

  “Oh,” said John. “We’ll come back when we’re done with the paper work and you’re ready to take him home.”

  “I don’t understand why we can’t take him out of there now. He’ll be sad if I leave after just telling him that I wanted him”

  “Oh he’ll be fine. Besides, he’s a dog. It’s not like he understands what we’re saying. Do you boy?” John asked looking at Thomas.

  As if in response, Thomas barked a gentle little puppy bark which surprised John.

  “Well, even if I wanted to let him out, we have a rule about not letting animals out of the cage without being confined to a leash. And I’d have to go all the way into the office just to get the key to where the leashes are kept...” Reaching into her leather bag Celeste pulled out a new leash and dog collar. Smiling a smug challenging smile she had and asked, “Can you take him out now?”

  John blinked as if taken aback and stuttered, “Well, um, uh, I guess so.” Taking the collar from Celeste’s hand he unlatched the kennel door and stepped in to place the collar on Thomas’ neck. After he had done so, Celeste gave him the leash and watched as the leash was latched on to Thomas’ collar.

  The walk from the kennel to the office was the first of many walks the two of them have been on together. Taking Thomas out for his walks has not been just a source of exercise; it also serves as a time for Celeste to clear her mind of the many tasks and accounts that she handles at work. It is a time for her to sit back mentally and look at things from different angles.

  Many times on these walks, sh
e has found a solution to a problem only to discover that the answer had lain right under her nose all along. Once she was trying to come up with a new jingle and ad campaign for a soft drink company. The owner of the company was a family man, completely devoted to his family, and wanting to portray that side of himself to his customers while launching his soda company onto the pathway of becoming a nationally known company.

  Celeste was adamant about pursuing the account when it was first put before the panel of upcoming advertisers. The panel was given the opportunity to come up with a jingle and a slogan overnight before it would be presented to the big wigs for their shot. Vines and Robert’s had always prided themselves on giving every employee the opportunity to prove their ability.

  And Celeste knew this was her opportunity. She believed that it could be accomplished without making the familial image seem corny. While on an evening summer walk two years prior, Celeste walked with Thomas to the park. Upon entering, she observed a family packing up the remains of a picnic.

  The mother and her child, about four years of age, were putting soda cans in a plastic bag marked for recycling. The cans were that of the company she wanted to represent.

  Quickly, Celeste came up with a jingle and a slogan. Turning fast on her heals, she and Thomas ran for home. As soon as she bolted through the door, she headed straight to her desk where she jotted down the slogan. Taking her hand held micro-recorder from the deep mahogany desk drawer, she sang the jingle into the microphone.

  Feeling a deep sense of satisfaction, she had sat on the corner of her desk, arms folded across her chest with a smile on her face. With the success of that one ad campaign, having accomplished the difficult task and met the spectacular expectations of the owner, she had launched her own career onto the fast lane. Propelling her to the incredible heights she has reached thus far.

  From that moment on, Celeste had established herself as the woman to solve difficult spin ads. Celeste couldn’t complain. Making six figures at the age of twenty-eight was nothing to sneeze at.

  Every time she went on a walk with Thomas, Celeste was reminded of all the many reasons she was glad that she decided to move into this neighborhood. Purchasing the house being fresh out of college and new on the job had been an enormous leap for Celeste. Not to mention financially taxing.

  Celeste had to skimp on many extras just to afford the house payment, utilities, and food. But the house was in foreclosure, and she could get it for a steal. She knew that if she didn’t jump on the opportunity, she would regret it. And everything had worked out just brilliantly. With her first promotion, came a substantial raise. And out the window had gone the financial tightness that Celeste had been in.

  Celeste truly loves the upper middle class suburban neighborhood in which she lives. All her neighbors are adorable quiet families with beautiful children. The Smith’s, who live just to her right, are expecting their second child. Their first being a girl, they are hoping for a boy this time.

  Their morning walk is just as refreshing as always. The smell of the air scented with the fragrance of freshly mowed lawns and opening flowers is delightful. A perfect way to start the day.

  Arriving back home, Celeste rinses Thomas’ food dish before placing it in the dishwasher. Hanging the leash on its hook, she gives Thomas a rub on the head. “Well, it’s time for me to get ready for work.

  From the closet she gets a pair of charcoal gray slack, matching jacket, and a white blouse. Getting under garments from her clothes drawer, she takes them to her in suite bathroom and proceeds to go about her daily washing rituals.

  It doesn’t take Celeste long to emerge from her bedroom fully dressed and ready to face the day since she doesn’t wear much make up, only lipstick in a neutral color and a little eye make up to accent her eyes. Having adorned black low-heeled pumps, she spends a little time with Thomas before heading to work.

  Picking up her briefcase and purse, she starts for the door. Retrieving her keys from its nesting place she bids Thomas one final, “Good bye” before making her exit. “I should be home early today,” she offers over her shoulder as she heads to her car, “I don’t think I have many meetings scheduled.”

  Chapter Seven

  Celeste listens to her Kirk Franklin and Friends worship album on her way to work. With traffic being minimal she arrives to work in just twenty-five minute. Torrance, the city she works in, is not far from the suburban community of Carson where she lives.

  As the doors to the elevator begin to close, the tip of a shiny black shoe being placed in their way stops them. When the doors reopen, Clenton, her competition often remarks to Jenny when speaking of him that he is a hairs breath short of being a stalker. Every time that she sees him, he asks when Celeste is going out on a date with him.

  David, being someone that she could never imagine spending the rest of her life growing old and gray with, she always answers, ‘Never’. When Celeste isn’t thinking of him as potential stalker, she thinks that the question is such a constant between them that he doesn’t even actually want to date her, he just asks out of sheer habit.

  “How are you this morning, Celeste?” begins David. “Very well, thank you. How about yourself?”

  “I’m all right considering...”

  “Considering what?”

  “Considering the fact that the most beautiful woman I

  have ever met won’t go out with me. But I guess I could be doing a lot worst.”

  Celeste sees that it is David and dogged pursuer. Celeste “You are endless, David,” Celeste says as the elevator

  glides to a smooth stop and the doors open facilitating her exit. Departing, she waves over her shoulder and says, “Catch you later.”

  Arriving at her office she is greeted cheerfully by Jayla. “Good morning, Boss. How was the concert?” “Girl, don’t even ask. You wouldn’t believe me if I told

  you. Anything new come up since yesterday?”

  “Not a thing. I’ve placed the files on your desk that you

  will need for your meetings today.”

  “Great. Thanks, Jayla. You are awesome.”

  “Hey, no need to thank me. I just want to move up

  stairs when you make Vice President.”

  Smiling at Jayla’s remark, Celeste proceeds into her

  office to get started with her day’s work. After placing her

  briefcase on the table beside her desk, Celeste settles in to

  glance through the files set atop her desk.

  As Celeste is leafing through a file, Jayla buzzes Celeste

  over the office speakerphone to inform her that her first

  client has arrived. “Send them right in,” Celeste says. Standing to greet her newly arrived visitors, Celeste

  kicks her mind into work mode.

  Stephen walks into the dance studio that Class One uses to rehearse and finds that he is the last member to arrive. That shouldn’t surprise him considering that it was hard to get back to sleep after having a dream in which he and Celeste got married. Once he did fall back to sleep, he ended up over sleeping.

  Waking to find himself feeling tired, sluggish, and rushed, he showered as quickly as possible, grabbed a muffin that his cook had baked, gulped it down with a glass of orange juice, and headed out the door.

  Despite the fact that he was a few minutes late for this morning’s rehearsal, the guys are able to rehearse without a hitch. Their choreographer even showed them a couple of new moves which they will start using on the European tour that will begin in a couple of weeks.

  Going abroad is usually something to which Stephen looks forward. This time though, he isn’t excited about it. Something that Mario catches on to during the meeting that the group has after the rehearsal. “So what’s the deal?” asks Mario when everyone else has left the room.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean the fact that you seemed a little out of it while we were discussing the European chapter of our world tour.”

&nbs
p; “Just a little confused is all.”

  “About what?”

  “About life, and the choices we make. I don’t think you would understand.”

  “Try me.”

  “It’s about Celeste but not all about her.” Stephen pauses and takes a deep breath to gather his thoughts before speaking again, “I’ve got some real direction in my life these days. Not like before, talking about tour dates or when the next album’s gonna drop, but life direction. I know what I want to do when my contract is up next year. I’ve already started the ball rolling on some of my plans. I know I want a family, a wife, kids and such. And I have a deep-rooted feeling in me like I have never had before that the woman I am supposed to marry is Celeste. Only, she’s not cooperating.

  “It only leaves me to wonder if maybe some of the plans I have made are not God’s plans for me. I know that I talk to God and that I am getting much better at listening to Him and His will for my life. I also know that even with excellent communication between the Almighty and myself, there are some plans that He just will not reveal to me until His due time. And that is where one needs to muster up faith and stay the course.

  “Stay the course,” he whispers to himself with conviction.

  Saying with the finality of one who has come to a decision of the heart, Stephen continues, “That’s what I need to do. Unless God says otherwise, I will stay the course.” Looking directly at Mario, Stephen says gratefully, “Thanks, Mario. I really appreciate you being a sounding board. That’s just what I needed.” Giving Mario a pound, Stephen nods his head and then turns to leave the room.

  Mario is left in the wake wondering, ‘What just happened?’

  All Celeste’s morning meetings go smoothly without a single hitch, and Celeste is reminded by the growling of her stomach that it is time for lunch. Buzzing Jayla’s desk phone, Celeste waits for Jayla to pick up. When she does, Celeste says, “How about we go get some lunch. You free?”

  “Sure. Is it a working lunch, should I bring my note pad?”