by M. T. Pope
“I’m looking forward to it.”
By the time Aaron and I made it to the community center, dinner was being served. The ballroom was filled to capacity with soldiers dressed in camouflage, uptight politicians in suits, people from the neighborhood, teachers, and a few local celebrities. The loud noise in the room was from people talking and from the projector that played a PowerPoint presentation of the soldiers who were expected to receive honorable mentions. It was fairly easy for us to ease into our seats without being noticed. Aaron held my hand as we made our way to the reserved round table that was draped with a crisp white tablecloth. Eight people were to be seated there; six of the seats were already filled. As we approached the table, Aaron pulled back my chair. He sat next to me, immediately indulging in a political conversation that took little time to get heated.
“Democrat or Republican, it doesn’t matter. I personally think the debt ceiling should be raised, without including any cuts to the deficit. We can deal with that later, and the priority here should be the economy. People need jobs, and unfortunately, the focus has been lost,” Aaron said, responding to a Republican politician who was sitting across from us.
“Aaron, you’re always entitled to your views, and I will agree with you on one thing. The focus has been lost, only because this president has not been doing what the American people put him in office to do! You can’t improve the economy unless you tackle the deficit first. We are spending money that we don’t have, and if Obama thinks the Republicans in Congress are going to hand over a blank check to him, that’s not going to happen.”
Whenever Aaron darted his finger to respond, I could tell he was upset. The inward arch of his brows stressed the same thing, but he always knew how to keep his cool. Me, I just turned my head and refused to comment. These kinds of conversations were not my cup of tea, because I was guilty of raising my voice in anger and using language that may be deemed as inappropriate. I continued to sip on the ice-cold water in front of me and pick at my salad.
“He’s not looking for a blank check, especially not the one that was given to Bush,” Aaron fired back. “You know there are a lot of hypocrites running around in your party, Paul, and there is no way you can deny it. All Obama is looking for is Republicans who are willing to compromise. Please tell me where the Republicans have compromised on anything pertaining to his agenda.”
Paul’s wife touched his shoulder, as she could tell he was getting hyped by Aaron’s comments.
“Must we talk about this right now?” she asked. “I thought we were here to have a good time, not to argue about our political positions. This doesn’t seem like the time or place to discuss the irresponsibility of this president, nor his lack of experience that’s a result of running this country into a ditch.”
She had the nerve to smirk behind her comment, and the one thing that irked me more were black Republicans who had no problem dissing the president. Paul smiled at his wife, but before he spoke up, Aaron did.
“I think it would be wise to end this conversation too, as I’m in no mood tonight to have this conversation with confused people who want to forget about how we got here in the first place. The ditch was dug years ago, and unfortunately, the only people who have gotten out of it are the ones who drive Mercedes, Rolls Royces, Bentleys ... you know, the rich or richer. The ones who can’t relate to what people are going through, and the last time I checked, Paul, you were driving a Mercedes, weren’t you?”
“Just because I drive...”
The back and forth between Aaron and Paul was ongoing. Two of the other politicians had joined in, leaving their significant others to either sit there and listen or ignore them. I chose to ignore them, even though Paul’s wife kept throwing in her two cents. She irritated the heck out of me, but being at so many of these functions, I’d learned to let Aaron handle his own. He was certainly capable of doing so, and obviously, her husband Paul wasn’t.
While cutting into the parmesan chicken that was placed in front of me, I watched the PowerPoint presentation on the widescreen. Slides of a soldier in training named Lela Monroe were on the screen. I kept thinking if she was Sanaa Lathan, because she sure as hell looked a lot like her. Her flawless skin was butterscotch, her smile was to die for, and her shoulder-length thin braids were in a ponytail. Several slides were shown, one during a Heritage Celebration at Scott Air Force Base and another slide where she was involved in a fitness challenge. She seemed proud to be in a position to serve her country, and from the recognition that was given to her in the slides, the army seemed pleased to have her on board. I was impressed, and was quite surprised that Aaron had abruptly ended his in-depth conversation to look at the screen. I saw him nod his head, and he stood when others applauded the soldier for a job well done. She was called to the podium to accept her award, causing the voices in the room to fall silent, with the exception of applause.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling and waiting for the applause to cease. “Thank you so much for your generosity. I can’t tell you how much it pleases my heart that my hard work and dedication to this country has not gone unnoticed. While serving ...”
She continued to speak with every single eye in the room on her. Dressed in camouflage, her sculpted, thick body was clearly visible. Her breasts seemed perfect and her thick, muscular thighs made her pants fit tight. I’d be the first to admit that a woman who showed strength was very admirable to me. One who was poised and seemed to handle herself with high prestige was attractive. Lela exemplified all of that, and there was no surprise that her presence had the entire room at a standstill.
Lela finished her speech, and by that time, my palms were sweating and my mind was all over the place. It had been a long time since a woman made me feel this way. The last time I’d suppressed my feelings for another woman was in my interior design class. I chalked it up as being a fad, never pursuing what I had been feeling inside. Then, one day I met Aaron at a grocery store in Fairview Heights, and as we got closer, those feelings for the other woman went away.
As I sat biting my nails, I hoped that Aaron hadn’t noticed the lust in my eyes, as I had noticed in his. He quickly shook it off, then excused himself from the table.
“Sweetheart,” he said, “I’m going to go mingle for a while. Can I get you anything while I’m away?”
I looked at my filled glass of water and half-empty plate. “No, I’m fine. I’m getting ready to go to the ladies’ room. If you get lost in the crowd, you can find me back in my seat.”
“Don’t be too long,” he said, then winked and walked away.
I made my way to the ladies’ room, stopping to say hello a few times, and shook hands with many of the people I had known. One lady, Roberta, held me up with conversation for about five minutes, talking about what else but politics. I didn’t mind, only because as I looked over her shoulder, I saw Lela laughing and talking to a group of people. A very tall and slender man stood next to her, dressed in a suit that looked to swallow him. In no way was he attractive, and when he eased his arm around her waist, I assumed he was her husband.
“Aaron is going to change this community around,” Roberta said. “And who knows, maybe one day we’ll be able to call him Mr. President.”
I was so caught up with looking at Lela that I barely heard what Roberta had said. “Right. That’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”
Roberta cocked her head back. “Huh? You think it’s ridiculous that Aaron could one day serve as our president?”
I took my eyes off Lela and quickly corrected myself. “Oh, no, that’s not what I meant. I thought you said something else. Aaron would make a great president, and who knows? One day it just may happen.”
Roberta continued, but as soon as I noticed Lela walk away from her husband, I halted my conversation. I rushed to stop Lela before she went into the restroom.
“Excuse me,” I said, extending my hand to her. “My name is Sky Love. I wanted to take a moment to thank you for delivering such an exceptional speech and
for your service. You are such an inspiration and it is a pleasure to meet you.”
Lela couldn’t help but smile. She was even prettier close up and I couldn’t believe that being this close to her had not made me nervous. Her sweet perfume had infused the space around us and the look in her eyes was speaking to me, without her saying one word. If anything, the cat now had her tongue.
“Tha ... thank you, Sky, and what a beautiful name. I certainly do my best and tonight is a night I will never forget.”
I blushed from her compliment, but before another word left my mouth, her husband stepped up from behind.
“Sweetheart, I really need to get going. I’ll see you later tonight, so don’t wait up for me.”
He planted a quick peck on Lela’s cheek, not noticing the roll of her eyes as I had. “This is almost over, William, and I don’t understand why you can’t stay for at least another hour. Do it for me, please.”
He hesitated for a second, took a glance at me, then turned to Lela. “I can’t. Got to go.”
Whatever the reason was behind his abrupt departure, it upset Lela. After he walked away, she mumbled, “Men,” underneath her breath. Seemingly embarrassed, she said nothing else to me and went into the bathroom. I assumed that I wasn’t the only one who felt lonely ... neglected at times and it was apparent that she and her husband had some issues. I had to use the bathroom, but decided against it. Instead, I headed back to my seat and waited for Aaron to get done mingling.
Nearly an hour later, Aaron had stepped to the podium to talk about the importance of supporting our soldiers and plans he had for improving the community, if given the opportunity. Then he wished everyone a good night. I was very glad when he came back to the table, saying he was ready to go. We held hands as we exited the ballroom together, but were stopped at the door by the chief of police, who thanked Aaron for coordinating tonight’s event with the other politicians. As they talked, I noticed Lela looking in our direction. Her stare made me a little uncomfortable, but who was I to complain? I’d been staring at her all night, thinking dirty little things to myself. I had the nerve to have, if not the finest man, then one of the finest in the room, and there I was lusting for a woman. I had to get out of there, and as Lela and I continued to eye fuck each other, I tugged at Aaron’s arm. Thank heavens he wrapped up his conversation and we left. I hoped that I would never see Lela again, but my wish was that we would somehow or someway cross paths again.
Chapter 2
Aaron had spent the night at my penthouse, and was still in bed after an extended night in the bedroom. I bent over the kitchen table, thinking about our lovemaking session last night. It was mediocre at best, but that was something that I had become accustomed to. He was a very passionate man, but there was something in me that caused me to hold back. I wasn’t sure what it was, but as I looked back on my previous relationships, I’d never been able to connect with any man sexually like I had hoped to. My friends were always bragging about how spectacular sex was to them, but for me, it had been just okay. Could I do without it? Possibly. Was it something that I had to have every day? Absolutely not. Once a week? No. No man had ever made me crave that deeply for him, and for a long time, I knew there was something wrong with me.
The truth was, Aaron had been giving me and our relationship his all. As I said before, my only concern was his career that took up too much of his time. Since he’d decided to jump on the political bandwagon, our time together was cut in half. Seemed like the only time we’d get together was when there was a function that we had to attend as a couple, as we did last night, when he needed me at his headquarters to help out, or when he had a sexual urge. I had expressed my concerns about our minimal time together, but Aaron promised me that once all of this was behind him, we’d spend a lifetime together. My sadness about the situation prompted him to propose to me. It was his way of guaranteeing me that he was in our relationship for the long haul. I felt as if I was being selfish for not understanding his motivation for pursuing a political career, and once the ring was placed on my finger, he never heard me complain again. That was four months ago, and at thirty-one years old, it was time for me to get my act together. Aaron wanted me to set a date for our wedding, and since I felt like time was running out for me, I suspected that I would come up with a date soon.
I walked over to the stainless-steel refrigerator, deciding to get started on breakfast. I knew Aaron would be up soon, as sleeping past eight o’clock was never something he would do. It was Sunday, though, so I was sure going to church was in his plans. Sometimes I’d go with him, sometimes I wouldn’t. I mean, I believed in God and felt truly blessed, but I couldn’t get with some of the messages that were coming from many of the churches I had visited. Needless to say, I had my own way of praising God, right here in my home, while driving, at the grocery store, etc. Aaron understood my way of thinking, but for him, growing up, his parents taught him that going to church was the only way to salvation. My parents taught me otherwise, and even though my father was deceased, he was the main one who encouraged me to seek an understanding about religion that satisfied self.
While waiting for the biscuits to rise in the oven, I leaned against the counter and flipped through the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. A few reporters were at the community center last night and so were plenty of photographers. I flipped through the pages, finally seeing a picture of Aaron and me standing next to each other. We looked to be the perfect couple and the smiles on our faces said so. There were more pictures in the newspaper of us and a few of Lela while she was at the podium speaking. I paused to take a lengthy look at her, then turned the pages to another section of the newspaper. As I started to read about a pedestrian who had been hit by a car on Locust Street, I felt arms wrap around my waist. Knowing that it was Aaron, I closed the paper and turned to face him.
“Good morning, Brown Sugar,” he said, pecking my cheek and not my lips.
I smiled and placed my arms on his shoulders. “I assume that you haven’t brushed your teeth yet. I wish you would, then come back with one of those juicy, wet kisses that keeps you on my mind all day.”
“All day,” he said. “I can’t believe you would sit around thinking about a kiss from me all day. Maybe half of the day, but surely not all day.”
“Go brush and we’ll just have to see about that.”
Aaron pinched my butt, and as he walked away, I shouted, “Ouch.”
He laughed and headed to the bathroom to freshen up. I hurried to finish breakfast, and by the time he returned to the kitchen, I had breakfast on the table that included biscuits and jelly, eggs, bacon, and orange juice. Aaron also liked hot black coffee, so I poured him a cup as well.
I placed the kettle back on the stove, and that’s when he swung me around to give me a kiss. His soft lips felt as if they were melting in my mouth, and as our tongues intertwined, several “Mmmm’s” were released from both of us.
At least two minutes in, he backed away and held out his hands. All he had on was a pair of gray boxer shorts, revealing his nicely cut upper chest that displayed not a lot, but some muscles. His lower half was tight, and at 185 pounds, he seemed to have it all together. “Now, how was that?” he said. “Better?”
“Much, much better. And if you don’t mind, I want some more of where that came from.”
I stepped forward and grabbed the back of his neck. Our lips met up again, and tongues danced for a little while longer. We paused to laugh at the intensity of our kiss and I backed away when Aaron lightly bit my lip.
“Calm down, woman,” he said, taking soft bites down my neck. “You’re going to make me late for church. Are you going with me this morning?”
“Not today,” I said, walking over to the glass-topped square table. I sat in the tall-back white leather chair and Aaron followed to sit next to me. “I think I’m going to stop by my mother’s house today to check on her, then go see my sister, Kate, and her family. I haven’t seen or talked to either of them in about two weeks
. My mother called yesterday, so instead of calling her back, I’m going to go see what she wants.”
Aaron turned on the plasma TV that was mounted on the wall beside us. He tuned into Don Lemon on CNN. “Sounds like you have yourself a busy day. I do too, and after church, I have a meeting with the mayor and some people from the neighborhood who don’t like what’s been going on in East St. Louis. Wish me luck.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine, and as long as you keep your cool, you’ll have no problems.”
Aaron pretty much cut our conversation short to listen to what was happening around the world. Don Lemon was reporting on a story that was breaking in New York. Two gay women were the first to be married since the Defense of Marriage Act had been challenged. The women looked very happy and so did the crowds of people who came out to join them. Several politicians weighed in about finally overcoming such a huge stepping stone with gay rights, but you still had plenty who opposed it. By the look on Aaron’s face, he was one of them. I knew he would respond to it, but he didn’t open his mouth until a commercial came on.
“What is this world coming to?” he said, putting jelly on a biscuit.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean, come on, Sky. This kind of stuff is ridiculous. A woman should never be allowed to marry another woman and the same goes for men. I think it’s taking things too far and the Bible clearly states that marriage should only be between a woman and a man. When we start changing laws that conflict with the Word, it’s kind of hard for me to swallow.”
I was shocked by Aaron’s comments; after all, he was considered the liberal one in the room. I was too, but I wasn’t the one out here preaching every day to people, claiming that I understood their struggles and would help fight for their causes. “How can you say that?” I asked. “I thought you would be willing to stand by the Same-Sex Marriage Act and support it. What does gender have to do with anything, and who cares who you fall in love with? It shouldn’t matter, should it?”