by Jewel Daniel
Kwabena sighed. "It's getting kind of hot in here. Why don't we go outside for some fresh air?"
Tamara followed Kwabena's lead out the glass doors onto the balcony. It was chilly, but they didn't mind. They leaned against the railing, observing the crescent moon shining on the calm waters of the harbor. Millions of stars twinkled in the night sky. Behind them the muted sounds of the band playing oldies love songs filled the air. Neither of them said a word. Each waited nervously for the other to talk.
Kwabena ran his hand through her hair. It felt soft and beautiful through his fingers. He liked the way the moon light highlighted her cheek bones. He liked the soft look of her lips and longed to feel them against his.
"Did I tell you how lovely you look tonight?" he asked, breaking the silence with his deep voice.
Tamara smiled and looked up at him. "Only about a hundred times."
He smiled and looked away. "So are you seeing anyone?"
She shook her head. Kwabena couldn't hide his relief. Here he was with the woman he loved. He had so much he wanted to say to her, but the words evaded him. He had to admit, he didn't expect this. He expected a fight. He expected anger. Their relationship had never been one of gentle flirting and coy statements, but one of open expression.
Oh, hell with it. I may as well get to the point. "I missed you, Tammy," he said. "I want you back in my life."
Tamara closed her eyes. When she opened them, he was staring at her, waiting for a response.
"Why, Ben? Why?"
"Because I still love you. I never stopped loving you."
Tamara turned to face him. "I love you too, Ben, but is that enough? Is love enough? What about honesty and openness and fidelity and trust? What about Adeola?"
His voice was impassioned when he spoke. "Tamara, I know you think that I was unfaithful to you, and I know l hurtyou. I'm just asking you to give me a chance to explain what happened." He paused fora short while. "Adeola and I were engaged a long time ago, but that committed relationship ended years ago. There was never a future for Ade and me. When I met you, what Ade and I had was a noncommitted relationship. But the minute you and I became a couple, the minute I started feeling what I felt for you and still feel now, I ended it between us. Yes, things happened between Ade and me while you and I were legally married, and yes, I brought her into your house, into the basement when I was your tenant. And for that I am very sorry. I should have exercised more common sense and never subjected you to that. But I never had any relations with her or anyone else once you and I became intimate. Tammy, I love you, and if I knew that we would have developed the kind of relationship that we developed, I would never have done that. I'm sorry, Tammy. I'm just asking you to forgive me and come back to me. I need you in my life. I need you as my wife."
Tamara took a deep breath. "When Adeola came to me and told me you were a couple waiting to resume your relationship, when she showed me the divorce papers you had drafted, her engagement ring.. .when she described my bedroom even down to the color of the sheets, I believed her." Tamara swallowed as she felt tears sting her eyes. "I believed her because I never knew she was your ex-fiancee. I believed her because she sounded honest. I believed her because I didn't trust you enough. And when she implied that she was meeting you in Pasadena, I was crushed. I..."
Kwabena drew her into his arms. "Adeola never met me in Pasadena. She and some friends went to Vegas for the weekend. And those divorce papers were drafted a week before our initial INS interview."
"Ben, I was such a fool, and now I've sent you running right back to her."
"Ade and I are not together. We just happened to arrive at the party the same time tonight. I'm not with her."
Tamara stepped away from him and looked out across the waters. She spoke slowly, quietly. "The Saturday after Thanksgiving, I went to your house. I wanted to see you, to talk to you, to ask your forgiveness for misjudging you ... to ask you for a second chance. But you were with her. I saw you the two of you at the condo, and I knew it was all over."
"I'm sorry you had to witness that, Tammy. I wanted to move on. I wanted to get over you. I wanted so badly to forget what we had because I thought there was no chance for us. So when Ade approached me, I responded. But I couldn't. I couldn't do it. All I could think of was you and how much I missed and wanted you. Nothing happened between us that night, Tammy. There hasn't been anyone since you were gone."
"Oh, Ben," she whispered, entering his open embrace. "I want you back in my life."
He kissed her gently, tenderly. She enjoyed the beautiful feel of his full lips against hers. He closed his eyes, reveling in the soft sweetness of her kiss, almost forgetting to breathe. He released her slowly, searching her eyes and seeing happiness. He kissed her again, this time with unbridled passion. Every nerve was ignited with passion. Her breathing slow and raspy, her eyes closed, her heart beating wildly, her being filled with love.
When he released her this time, Tamara was shivering ... not because of the cold but because of all the deeply buried emotions that surfaced like a tidal wave.
"I want you, Tamara," he said and whispered something in her ear. Tamara blushed and nodded her response. "Let's go home."
Tamara looked at him, a coy smile on her lips. "I thought I'd never live to say this: your place or mine?"
He laughed, a light laugh of a man imbued with happiness. "Ours."
They walked hand in hand into the reception hall and said their good-byes.
The ride home seemed interminable. They held hands all the way. They were happy. As they entered the foyer, Kwabena drew Tamara into his arms and kissed her passionately, caressing her through her clothing. He looked at her and smiled. Then he lifted her gently in his arms and took her to the bedroom he knew so well.
Slowly they undressed each other, hungrily kissing every inch of exposed flesh. Kwabena laid Tamara naked on the bed. He kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, her chin, her ears, her lips. He kissed her shoulders and neck, letting his tongue linger in the hollow of her throat. He knew that would send her wild, and it did. She gasped, a soft purring sound escaping her lips.
He gently caressed her breasts, feeling her nipples grow hard and erect beneath his fingers. He took each firm, dark nipple into his mouth, kissing, tasting, teasing. Slowly he trailed feathery kisses down her belly to her navel.
Tamara moaned softly, parting her legs in anticipation. She was hot and wet and ready. Kwabena always knew how to use his mouth and tongue to set her on fire. He kissed her rounded belly his tongue darting into her protruding navel. Then he froze.
Hard round belly? Protruding navel? Is this what I think it is? Even when Tamara weighed more than two hundred pounds, she did not have a high belly. There was no mistaking the signs: her darkened nipples, the protruding belly button, but most of all, the telltale dark line that began just above her navel and extended down toward her pubic triangle.
Kwabena brought his face next to Tamara's. He looked her in the eyes. "Tammy, are you pregnant?"
Tamara swallowed and went rigid with fear. She knew he would be angry at her for keeping it from him. She closed her eyes and nodded, yes.
"How far along are you?"
"Twenty weeks."
He did a quick mental calculation, then smiled in relief. It was his baby. And he knew exactly when it happened. It was last August in the swimming pool. They had been spontaneous, unprepared and unprotected. They'd had careless, carefree sex, the kind that made babies without anyone expecting it to happen. And he should have known. It had been two weeks after her menstrual period.
He looked at her, exhaling slowly. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Tamara looked into his eyes. "And what would you have done had I told you?"
He thought for a while. "I would have found you, destroyed those divorce papers and pounded some sense into your head. I'd never abandon my child."
"Exactly. I was afraid if I told you, you would come back to me, not because you loved me and wanted to spend the
rest of your life with me, but because of the baby. We would have a marriage of convenience again. Ben, I don't want a marriage of convenience with you, be it for green card, money or a baby. I want a real marriage of love with you."
"Honey, what do I have to do to prove that I love you, whether there is a baby or not?"
Tamara smiled, "Finish what we started."
He laughed softly. He kissed her and worked his way down until he got to her belly. He kissed her belly, caressing it possessively when he felt the baby kick. He stopped. "I'm gonna be a daddy," he said excitedly. "I'm gonna be a daddy! I'm. gonna be a daddy! Oh, Mama and Papa will be sooooooo happy." He put his ear to her belly. "You know what that means? We've gotta get married. We'll have a traditional African wedding. No, we'll have a Christian wedding. We'll..."
"Ben, we're already married. I never filed the divorce papers."
"Yeah, but that was a civil wedding. I want a real wedding, with a minister to bless our marriage. I want a marriage that is true in the eyes of God. We will have a wedding-a big wedding. We'll have bridesmaids and flower girls, and..."
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"And my family will come over. I know Mama and Papa will come. So will my uncles and aunts. Mike could be my best man, or maybe Chris..."
"Ben?"
"Yes?"
"It's been four months. Shut up and make love to me."
Kwabena smiled, taking Tamara into his arms and making love to her, fulfilling their longing, fulfilling their passion, fulfilling their love for each other.
It was a perfect day for a wedding. Blue skies with nary a cloud, a warm gentle breeze wafting through the oak and willow trees, verdant grass and blooming May flowers: spring filled the air. A trellis with pink and red roses stood on one end of the grassy lawn. The stone pathway, covered with red carpeting led the way from the pool on one end to the gazebo on the other end. Hanging baskets overflowing with pink, white, blue, purple, and red flowers decorated the gazebo. The walkway was lined with baskets of fresh flowers picked from Tamara and Kwabena's well-tended garden, and green potted plants. The large willow close to the gazebo provided shade from the warm May sun. Rented chairs covered with cream fabric and tied with organza bows provided seating for the two hundred-plus guests. Rented tables with beautiful pathos ivy centerpieces nicely wrapped in gold ribbons converted the poolside patio into an elegant outdoor dining room. The pool was decorated with a million floating candles, each giving off a light lavender scent adding to the dreamlike atmosphere. A buffet table under a portable gazebo sported dozens of silver chafing dishes containing a mixture of Caribbean, African and American food. A DJ and a live Ghanaian drumming ensemble provided music for the event.
The guest list was four times the size of Tamara's wedding two years earlier, yet she spent almost nothing. The lovely African dresses for the bride and her bridal party were made of authentic Ghanaian handwoven cloth with intricate embroidery and custom made by Kwabena's aunt. The wedding cake, a fivetiered confection with staircases leading to other smaller cakes, was prepared by Becky. The flowers were all picked from Tamara's garden, which was well tended by Kwabena. Tamara had learned pretty quickly that Kwabena had a knack for gardening and a very green thumb. It began with the privacy hedges and ended with a garden as beautiful as those profiled on television shows. The perfectly presented food was prepared by the African women and Jordan's mother, potluck style. All in all, Tamara paid next to nothing for her wedding. Even the professional photographer and videographer gave their services free. It had been arranged by Leyoca, a part of a promotion for the photographer's work. All the rented chairs and tables were provided by Edebe, who ran a bridal and limousine service.
With everything from the weather to the planning all cooperating wonderfully, it should have been perfect. But as with all things in Tamara's life, arriving at this day was anything but simple. The wedding should have taken place since February, a long time away from her due date. But that was not to be. Kwabena's family wanted to attend. By the time they had obtained visas it was almost May, a few weeks from her due date.
The greatest holdup was Kwabena's great uncle Kofi, his mother's maternal uncle. For reasons beyond Tamara's comprehension, nothing happened in that family without his approval. Kwame and Akwape only married with his approval, as had Afie and her husband. However, since Tamara was American and her roots could neither be traced back to Asante, Fante or Akan heritage, he was uncomfortable giving his blessing to the marriage. So he insisted on coming to America to meet Tamara before approving the marriage. Unfortunately, he had neither a passport or visa. When he finally obtained them, it was the beginning of May. The wedding date was set a week after he bestowed his blessing. Tamara was thirty-eight weeks pregnant.
When Tamara met him, she expected a big, tall person. She was surprised to see a very small shriveled old man with a shy smile. He looked a hundred years old. Tamara wondered how someone as small and quaint as this man could be the commander in chief of this large family. All that changed when he opened his mouth. He had a voice that bellowed deep and loud and strong. His voice was as commanding as James Earl Jones as Mufasa in The Lion King. Everyone deferred to him, and Tamara finally understood why. Kwabena and Akwape wanted a Christian wedding; Uncle Kofi wanted a traditional African wedding. Eventually they compromised on an African-American wedding. The style was Christian with a minister presiding over the exchange of vows, but the dress, the cuisine, and some of the rituals were traditional African.
"Ready?"Jordan asked, taking her hand in his.
Tamara smiled up at him. "I've been ready for two years now."
The bridal party, all dressed in traditional African dresses, preceded them as Jordan escorted a very pregnant Tamara from the deck and down the aisle. She was the epitome of radiant beauty. Her neatly braided hair was elaborately wrapped in a gold head piece. She wore a cream dress of Adinkra cloth with elaborate gold bardanger-styled embroidery, the loosely fitted sash effectively concealing her super-sized low-riding belly. The embroidered design: a crescent moon and star, Osram ne Nsoroma, represented loyalty, faithfulness, harmony and love. She was an African queen.
As Tamara walked slowly, smiling at the many guests assembled for her wedding, she felt a cramp in her lower abdomen and back. She stiffened on Jordan's arms.
"Are you ok?" he whispered in her ear.
"Just some Braxton-Hicks," she whispered in response and continued walking. "False contractions."
They continued up the aisle where Leyoca, decked out in a beautiful brown and gold Ghanaian dress with a matching headpiece, joined them in the walk to meet Kwabena. It was a dress fit for the mother of the bride and Leyoca wore it with regal bearing. With a bow, both Jordan and Leyoca handed Tamara over to Kwabena.
Tamara looked up at Kwabena and smiled. Boy was she happy she'd worn five-inch platform sandals. Everyone had told her flats was the way to go in that dress, but with Kwabena's height, she needed to balance out things a bit. Her pregnancy and her slightly swollen feet did not permit her favorite stilettos, but the platforms were beautiful. Thank goodness they were back in fashion.
Kwabena stood tall and proud, in a brown and gold robe with sash and matching kofia and sandaled feet. He was freshly shaven, his coffee-cream skin glistening. He looked like royalty.
Kwabena smiled down at Tamara, his heart racing in anticipation. She was beautiful, the most beautiful person present. Her face was radiant. He couldn't believe he'd almost lost her. He was happy to be here, to let the whole world know that he was committing and would remain committed to his beautiful wife forever.
"You look wonderful," he whispered as he bowed and kissed her hand.
Tamara felt her lower back and abdomen contract once more, this time lasting a few seconds. She dismissed it again. After all, she was a full two weeks from her due date, and everyone had tol
d her, first babies are always long in coming. Plus, she'd been to the altar before without exchanging vows. Nothing was going to prevent her from exchanging these wedding vows with Kwabena today-not even a baby. The contraction caused her to grip Kwabena's hand like a vise. When she released him, the blood was drained from his hands.
He looked at her quizzically. She smiled reassuringly. They'd been through the Braxton-Hicks and the baby kicks before. In fact, sometimes the baby kicked so hard it distended her belly like an alien.
They looked in each other's eyes as they exchanged the traditional Christian vows to honor, obey, love and respect each other till death. Finally, after a lengthy ceremony, the minister announced, "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Tamara and Kwabena kissed passionately, and walked back down the aisle amid the cheers of friends and fam ily. As they greeted the guests, another contraction froze Tamara. Kwabena, busy smiling, laughing and greeting friends and family did not notice.
At the reception, Kwabena and Tamara opened the floor with their song, "Lady in Red." It was the song they danced to the night of their first union. It was the song they danced to the night of their reunion. It was the song they were dancing to the night of their wedding.
"Ben," Tamara whispered as they danced to a series of love songs while their friends and relatives swirled around them, "I think it's..."
Tamara felt a tap on her shoulder and swung around to face Darlene. "Time to cut the cake, guys," Darlene said and whisked them over to the table with the enormous cake.
Tamara went through the motions of cutting the cake and feeding Kwabena, but she was worried. The contractions were coming too frequently to be BraxtonHicks. But before she could say anything to Kwabena, she was whisked off to throw the bouquet, which Ebony caught with ease.