by Donna Hill
She slinked over to the kitchen counter where he’d assembled bowls, knives, seasonings, green and red peppers, an assortment of cheeses, tomatoes, milk…the countertop was covered from end to end.
“What are you making?”
“I’m not making anything. I’m instructing, you’re making. We’re going to have a western omelet, whole wheat pancakes, and turkey bacon.”
She threw her hands up in the air and looked around. “But…I…”
He took her hands and brought them down to her sides. If she didn’t look so terrified he would burst out laughing. “I’ll talk you through it. It’ll be fun. A team project. We’ll start with the condiments.”
She muttered something under her breath. Tony chuckled and handed her a green pepper and a knife.
Not only was Tony a stellar photographer, consummate lover, fun, intelligent, and damned good to look at, he was also a wonderful cook and a great teacher.
Stephanie was actually having a good time and she hadn’t burned anything. He’d shown her how to make a perfect omelet and pancakes that were light as feathers. They even had a fruit salad. When they sat down at the table she couldn’t believe what she’d done.
Tony raised his glass of orange juice in a toast. “Congratulations on a job well done.”
Stephanie smiled with well-deserved pride. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”
“It was my pleasure.” He touched his glass to hers.
“Tony.” She put her glass down. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
“Sure.”
“A few days ago I got a phone call…from Conrad’s wife.”
Slowly he put down his glass. “A few days ago? What did she say, Steph?”
She repeated the conversation.
His amiable expression hardened. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I…I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want you to worry.”
He blew out a harsh breath and pushed up from the table. He crossed the room to the sink and turned to face her. “Did you call the police?”
“No.”
His nostrils flared. “Why?”
“I just want it all to go away. I knew if the police got involved it would all blow up again.”
He looked at her in stunned disbelief. He paced toward her. “This man used you.” He bent down in front of her, gripping the edge of table. “He threatened to blackball you in the industry. His wife has verbally harassed you. They have jointly made your life hell. It took months of convincing to get you to take out the restraining order, longer still to make you feel safe again.” He spun around in a circle, then whirled toward her. “Forget that you didn’t call the police and have them enforce the order.” He waved his hand back and forth, then jabbed at his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked in a harsh whisper.
Stephanie looked away. “I didn’t want you upset, Tony. I didn’t want you to worry.”
He sat down and pulled his chair right up to her. “Steph, that’s called being in a relationship. I thought that’s what you wanted, what we were working toward.”
“We are. I thought I could handle it on my own. I wanted to handle it on my own. But after last night…I wanted to tell you. I didn’t want any more secrets between us.”
A momentary pang of guilt stabbed him in the gut.
“And…I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want to have to deal with it alone. I didn’t want to hear my phone ring and have her on the other end.” She sighed heavily. “There, I said it. I needed you.” It was more of an accusation than an admission.
He took her hands in his and raised them to his lips. He placed a gentle kiss on her palms. “It’s okay to need someone. It doesn’t make you weak or less of a person. I want you to need me, Steph, and I want to be there for you when you do.”
She blinked back tears. “I’ve been doing it on my own for so long. I don’t know any other way.”
“Give it a chance. Give us a chance. A real one.”
She stood up and moved away from him.
“You can’t let this go. First it will be phone calls. What next? You need to make them know that you’re serious. And the only way to do that is to take it to the next level and file the sexual harassment suit against Hendricks. You should have done that in the beginning.”
Stephanie folded her arms and tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth. “I’ll change my number. I should have done that a long time ago.”
“Stephanie, it’s not enough and you know it. You’ve always known it.”
She shook her head. “No. This is as far as it goes.”
“Do you think it’s going to stop?”
“I don’t know.”
He came up to her. “Look, I know it won’t be easy. And it will be hard as hell to handle it on your own.” He paused a beat. “Live with me. And I don’t mean just on the weekend. I mean day to day, dealing with each other. If you don’t want to pursue charges, then put all of it behind you, including the place that the two of you…”
Her head began to pound. Live together? Living together held implications. Was she willing to give up her independence, share bills, daily drama, wake up day after day to the same person? It was happening too fast. She’d never shared that much of herself with anyone. It was easier to keep that emotional distance. That way she didn’t get hurt, she wouldn’t have to worry about loss.
“It’s not something that I want to do.” She forced herself to look into his eyes.
“I see. What part, some of what I said or all of it?”
She cleared her throat. “All of it. I’m not going to file the suit and I…can’t live with you.”
“You want to tell me why?”
“How can I go after Conrad for sexual harassment? I was a part of it. I wasn’t some starstruck teenager who didn’t know any better. What I did was wrong.” Her eyes filled with tears. “He was married. I knew it and it didn’t matter.”
His expression was incredulous. “Do you hear yourself? He raped you! He should be in jail, for God’s sake, and you’re blaming yourself?” He crossed over to her. “No one deserves that.”
She looked away. “Let it go, Tony.”
“If it’s a matter of some woman independence thing about you not wanting to move into a man’s home, then we can get a place together with both of our names on the lease,” he said, ignoring her directive.
How could she explain something she didn’t quite understand herself? She knew she cared deeply for Tony. She enjoyed being with him, but living together…that was asking for more than she was ready to give.
“I can’t live with you,” she said finally.
He drew himself up. “Can’t or won’t?”
“Both.”
He slowly nodded his head. “So you won’t file charges, you won’t move out of the place that he raped you in, and you won’t move in with me.” He chuckled without a hint of humor. “Then maybe it’s what you wanted.”
She flashed him a look.
“Fine. You’ve said it all. There’s nothing more to discuss.” He turned and walked out.
She heard a door slam in the distance and was finally able to release the tight rein she had on herself. She let go a long breath and headed for the bedroom. Tony was sitting on the edge of the bed staring off into space.
“I think I’d better go.”
“So do I,” he said without looking at her.
She began gathering her things. The silence was physical, weighing down her limbs as she put her belongings into her bag. She got dressed. Tony still hadn’t said a word, hadn’t moved from that spot, hadn’t looked in her direction.
It was best this way, she thought as she put on her coat. Cut her losses early. She picked up her bag. She started to say something but knew that whatever she said wouldn’t matter. She walked out the door without looking back.
Stephanie returned to her apartment and aimlessly puttered around for the rest of the day. She wanted to talk to someone, but
there was no one. Barbara had Wil. Ellie had Ron. Ann Marie had Sterling. She had her freedom.
Chapter 8
Barbara felt like a teen on prom night. Wil would be there any minute and she was a nervous wreck. Although she and Wil had been spending all of their free time together and had even gone on a weekend getaway, this would be the first time she had Wil’s son, Chauncey, at her home. She wanted to make a good impression on him.
It was still hard to believe that Wil had a teenage son, a son who should have been theirs. How different would their lives have been had she told him about the baby, had she not subsequently lost it? Would they have made it as a couple? And the sad irony was she thought she was helping him by not telling him. He had an athletic scholarship. He was destined for the NFL. But fate had a zinger in store for both of them.
Funny how things turn out, she thought as she fluffed the pillows on the couch. He wound up with someone else and so did she, and after so many years had passed they’d found each other again. You couldn’t make up for the past, but you could certainly make plans for the future. They’d been given a second chance to get it right, and she didn’t intend to miss a beat.
She was heading for the kitchen to check on the pot roast when the downstairs doorbell rang. Her heart rushed to her throat. She took a deep breath and went to the intercom.
“Yes?”
“It’s Wil and Chauncey.”
She pressed the buzzer, then dashed to the mirror in the foyer to check her hair and makeup. It would be the first time that Wil had seen her since she’d cut her hair. She hoped he liked it.
She hurried to her front door and pulled it open, just as they’d stepped off the elevator. “Come on in. Chauncey, it’s good to see you. I’m glad you came.”
“Thanks for inviting me.” He walked behind his father into the apartment and looked around. “Nice place.”
“Thanks. Let me take your coats.”
“I’ll do it, Barb.” He took his and Chauncey’s coats and hung them in the hall closet. “Something sure smells good.”
“We’re having pot roast. I hope you like it. I should have asked.”
“Pot roast is fine. We eat everything,” Wil said, laughing.
Chauncey was in the living room.
“Thanks for doing this,” Wil said quietly. “And by the way, you look incredible.” He kissed her lightly on the lips.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I was hoping you liked it.” She nervously patted her head.
“Very much.”
They walked into the living room hand in hand. Chauncey was checking out her music collection.
“You like Prince?” he asked with raised brows and wide eyes.
Barbara grinned. “Absolutely. Doesn’t everyone?”
“You have some really good stuff here. You even have 45s. Wow.”
“Well before your time. The Dells, The Moments, The Delfonics, The Stylistics, Main Ingredient, Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, and of course Marvin Gaye, Martha Reeves, and the Vandellas, The Supremes. They’re all there. I even have Mary J, Jill Scott, India Arie, John Legend, Luther. I’ve always enjoyed music, so I try to keep up. I still can’t handle rap, though.” She made a face.
“Yeah, my dad can’t handle it either.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t mind so much if most of it wasn’t so violent or just plain ridiculous. And the videos…” He shook his head sadly. “Damned shame.”
“Don’t get him started,” Chauncey said, “we’ll never eat.”
“Speaking of which, are you guys hungry?”
“Always,” Chauncey said.
Barbara ushered them into the dining room while she got the pot roast and put it on a serving platter.
“Need some help?”
She looked over her shoulder to see Wil coming up behind her. “Not the kind of help you want to give,” she teased as he kissed her on the back of the neck. His palms curved around her waist as he subtly moved his hips.
“I heard the flame went out on the stove and somebody needed to turn it on.” He tugged at her earlobe with the tip of his teeth.
She swatted him on the thigh. “Wil, you need to stop,” she said in a rough whisper filled with laughter. “What if Chauncey sees you?” She felt his growing arousal bump up against her behind, and her heart beat a little faster.
“Then he’ll know his old man ain’t so old and is still getting it.”
“Wil Hutchinson, I can’t concentrate on what I’m doing with you rubbing up against me like that.”
“Oh, really? I’m sorry,” he said and rubbed up against her some more. “Hmm, that feels good. Let’s forget dinner, get rid of the kid, and run to the back room.”
Barbara burst out laughing. “You have lost your natural mind. Now move out of my way while I have this knife in my hand.”
Wil reluctantly backed up, the bulge visible in his pants. Barbara’s eyes zoomed in. She pointed at it with the knife. “Better do something about that,” she mouthed before heading off into the dining room with the platter of food. “And bring in the casserole dish of rice and the one with the string beans,” she called out from the doorway. That ought to keep him busy for a minute and off my behind, she thought with amusement. Humph, she might be fifty but she still had it. Having her brief but torrid love affair with Michael, a man young enough to be her son, was proof in the pudding. She’d almost married him, dazzled by the attention, his youth, that eye-popping diamond ring, and his celebrity status on the NBA. Many a night she’d have to pinch herself to make sure it was all real. And now Wil was in her life, confirming the adage that what you may lack in energy you sure make up for with experience. Wil made love to her as if they had the rest of their lives to get from point A to point B, and he intended to use every minute. Slow and steady, like the mighty Mississippi. Wil’s loving didn’t start in the bedroom. He seduced her with a look in the middle of the street, an impromptu massage while they waited for the light to change, talking to her for hours and listening just as long. Wil’s loving was as much the act itself as it was getting there. Lord, that man knew how to love up a woman.
“Need some help with that?”
Barbara blinked, then realized she’d been staring into space, thinking all manner of naughty thoughts. Her face heated when she looked at Chauncey and swore he could read her mind. “Oh no. Thanks. Maybe you could help your dad bring the things in from the kitchen.”
“Sure.”
She exhaled and shook her head. Hold it together, girl.
As per her usual dinner guest routine, everything was placed on the mahogany sideboard for folks to take what they wanted.
“Help yourself to as much as you want,” she said once Wil and Chauncey joined her. “There’s plenty.”
They sat at her grandmother’s table with their plates piled high.
“Wil, would you say the blessing please?”
They bowed their heads while Wil blessed the food and the cook.
“Amen,” they said in unison.
Chauncey dug right in. In between bites he asked, “How did you and my dad meet?”
Barbara smiled at the memory. “We met in high school, through a friend.” She stole a look at Wil. “Your dad was much older than me.” She emphasized the “much” with a glimmer in her eyes. “Then he went away to college.” She hesitated, not sure how much more to say.
“We stayed in touch by phone and letter for a while,” Wil said, seeing Barbara’s uneasiness. “But with school and distance, we drifted apart.” He looked at her and saw gratitude in her eyes for not sharing that very painful time.
“Then you guys have me to thank for getting you back together. If I hadn’t dragged Dad to the spa kickin’ and screamin’ you may never have seen each other again.” He took a big forkful of pot roast and chewed triumphantly.
“He’s right,” Barbara said. “And to think that we’ve been living right here in the same city all these years and never ran into each other.” She shook her head in wond
er.
“Well, we’re together now,” Wil said.
“So, Chauncey, your dad says you work at the Schomberg.”
Chauncey talked about his part-time job and his long-term goal of becoming an engineer when he went to college in the fall.
They chatted amicably throughout dinner, with Wil sharing stories of Chauncey’s growing up and his take on his latest girlfriend, Missy.
Chauncey looked woefully embarrassed, but took it all in stride. They were just finishing up and Barbara was about to announce dessert when there was a knock on her front door. She frowned.
“Excuse me. Must be one of my neighbors.” She couldn’t imagine it was anyone else since she didn’t hear the intercom buzz. She got up and went to the door. The last person she expected to see stood in front of her.
“Hey, Barb.”
“Michael…what are you doing here?” Her stomach did several flips, then leaped to her chest as she looked up into his handsome face. He looked like a model for a men’s fashion magazine, his two-button shark-gray suit, the open-collar white shirt, and the familiar heavenly scent that floated around him all lent themselves to his star power. There was no way to ignore a man looking as good as he did.
“I know I should have called. But I’m only in town for a couple of days. I wanted to see you and didn’t want to take the chance that you would say no.” His light brown eyes rolled slowly over her. “You look incredible.”
She tried to swallow over the dry knot in her throat and nearly choked. “Uh, thanks. I’m—”
“May I come in?”
Jeez, her thoughts had come to a grinding halt. She couldn’t get past the fact that Wil, her current man, was sitting at her dining room table and Michael, her ex-fiancé, was standing at her door. What was a girl to do?
“Babe, everything okay?”
Oh, damn. She turned to see Wil moving toward her, his gaze zeroed in curiously on Michael. Then recognition kicked in.
“Umm, yes. This is Michael Townsend. Michael, Wil Hutchinson.”
Michael stuck out his hand. Wil stood taller and sucked in his stomach before shaking Michael’s hand.