RSVP with Love

by Sandra Kitt

  “I thanked you for stopping, but I didn’t say much of anything else. I felt tongue-tied because I knew right away who you were. I hoped you wouldn’t tell anyone you’d found me walking home on the road.”

  “I don’t think I ever did. Probably forgot about it by the next morning. What else happened?”

  “You drove me back to my dorm.”

  Kevin waited. “That’s it?”

  No.

  He saw that she was cold and shaking and stopped at a gas station to get her coffee. He’d taken a sweatshirt from his car trunk and given it to her to put on. He’d not only driven her all the way to her dorm but watched until she’d gotten inside the building. She’d gone out for the evening with a young man who’d quickly turned out to be a frog and gotten safely back home that night with someone else who was a prince. That one-night encounter with Kevin had formed the basis of a fantasy and faith that had afterward sustained her for years.

  “That’s it,” Chloe said. “I’m surprised you remembered any of that night.”

  “I never would have if I hadn’t gotten to know you now. You know we just had a date, right?”

  Chloe frowned at him playfully. “Oh, really? I don’t recall you asking me.”

  “The thing is, if I’d asked you would have turned me down. Don’t think I’ve forgotten when I had to trick you into lunch a few weeks ago. At this rate it’ll be fall before we even have a glass of wine together.

  “I just figured out a way around you always saying no. I don’t ask, I just do it.” He grinned broadly.

  “That’s very arrogant of you.”

  “Listen, I’m a take-charge kind of guy. Do you object?”

  “I appreciate your resourcefulness.”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “A month ago, maybe I would have been. I don’t know. But I had a really good time today. Rain and all.”

  “Me, too. Thanks for being such a good sport about the weather.”

  She looked around as they approached the visitor’s lot. “Where’s the mysterious and silent CB?”

  “The man does get time off, you know. I didn’t need him today. I think I’m safe with you, all by myself.”

  Chloe smiled silently at him.

  You’re much too sure of yourself, Kevin Stayton.

  They reached the lot, and Chloe pointed out her car. As she stood unlocking it, Kevin leaned against the hood, staring at her over the top of the open door.

  “When am I going to see you again?”

  She gave him a skeptical grin. “You mean, another date? Are you asking this time?”

  “Don’t want to push my luck but I’m going to ruin my reputation if I can’t do better than a picnic lunch and pizza.” He stepped around the open door to stand in front of her, boldly placing his hands on her narrow waist. “I want the real thing next time. I pick you up, we go out, we enjoy ourselves and then…”

  “And then?” she challenged him.

  “We’ll see what develops.”

  With that Kevin kissed her again. This time Chloe was ready. She’d learned quickly how he liked to kiss, and she wanted a repeat as if to make sure it had been real the first time. It was. The way he held her, kissed her with tenderness and sexy expertise, had the power to create havoc in her head and tension in her body. Chloe adapted herself to his lead. He was direct and sure. But, as before, Kevin didn’t rush or move too suddenly. He built the excitement with the erotic control of his tongue. He had a way of thrusting it slowly into her mouth that was as effective as it was evocative of another intimate action.

  Kevin slipped his hands around her back, and Chloe willingly pressed herself to his chest. She felt so protected and safe there, like nothing was going to get between them. She could feel his heartbeat and the toned columns of his thighs.

  She didn’t want him to stop. And that scared her. This time she was the one to step back, draw her bottom lip between her teeth and hope he couldn’t tell how deeply he affected her.

  “Will you?” he asked.

  Chloe nodded.

  “Friday night?”

  “Okay,” she whispered, finally looking into his face. It was dark and hard to see his features. But his lips were still moist from their kiss. His dark eyes sparkled through the reflection of a nearby lamppost. “Okay,” she repeated, giving in.

  Only she knew this was a fulfillment of a lifetime of dreams.

  It had been two weeks since that rainy campus day with Kevin and their Friday night date. Chloe was still basking in the warm memory of it. Kevin had warned her in advance that formal attire would not be required.

  “Think good music and wine. But not at one of my places.”

  That had intrigued her.

  He’d actually taken her to the Phillips Arena for a concert with Sweet Honey and The Rock. True to his intentions and her wishful thinking it had been a genuine date complete with appropriate amorous good-night kiss, a little titillating petting, but he hadn’t pushed for more. All during that night Chloe had tried to second-guess Kevin’s actions, wondering if he’d found her wanting. That is, until about six in the morning when he called to complain. “I didn’t get to sleep at all last night.”

  Sweet words for her on a Saturday morning.

  Since then had been nearly daily calls, but most of their getting together had turned out to be over homecoming arrangements, as Kevin willingly became more involved and more hands-on. Sometimes after work they’d end up at his wine bar, CORK, and just enjoy conversation and rather open and earnest conversations about everything from their families to their years at Hollington. And as much as she was coming to trust Kevin, Chloe still did not give a full reveal about her background.

  So, on Monday morning two weeks later, the furthest thing from Chloe’s thoughts was the woman waiting again when she left the parking lot and headed toward the entrance of her office building. There she was, same time, same place. Finding the woman loitering a few times might have been a coincidence, but she now knew otherwise. Against all her fervent hopes that she was mistaken, Chloe had to accept the horrific truth that the down-on-her-luck woman who had claimed a corner of the street where she worked was her mother.

  Her fervent desire to deny her worst fears and make it go away was no longer possible. Lost forever in this skinny, ill-dressed, middle-aged woman…neglected and worn down…was another woman to whom life had not been kind. And Chloe remembered her own bewilderment and helpless desperation that this person whom she depended on to keep her sheltered and safe didn’t and couldn’t.

  Mother.

  The very word caught in Chloe’s throat, like an insult, or blasphemy, a bad joke. It evoked such contradictory feelings and emotions that, after first seeing the woman, the very day that Kevin had persuaded her to join him for an alfresco lunch in the atrium, she had returned to her office and refused any calls for the next several hours. Until she could catch her breath, regain her balance and stabilize her senses.

  “Ain’t you gonna say hello to me? I’m your mama, girl. You sure did grow up pretty. I used to be pretty.”

  There it is, Chloe thought, a heavy feeling pressing in the middle of her chest. Confirmation. Truth. Only for a second did she consider ignoring the flat, street voice, as if by doing so her mother would disappear. But she’d known from their first encounter that the vagaries of her life were rarely so simple. This had to be dealt with. She had to find closure to her past. She had no idea how.

  Chloe slowed her steps facing the woman and, by doing so, acknowledging her. She still didn’t want to believe that this was her mother, but there were remembered mannerisms, the pitch of her voice and the way her face changed when she smiled that struck a nerve. Painful details were falling into place.

  “What do you want from me?” Chloe asked, her voice even and mildly curious.

  “Haven’t seen my baby girl in so long. State took you away from me, like I don’t know how to raise my own chile,” she sniffed. “I got paroled two months ago.”
>
  Chloe’s stomach roiled violently and felt like her body heat was draining right out of her. She’d long ago, still a child, been told her mother had to go away. It had never been made clear where.

  “Then I seen you in the newspapers. You real smart. Got you a degree and even got your own business. I see you going in there to work.” She laughed.

  There was an unmistakable pride in her revelation.

  “I told my parole officer that you my little girl. He don’t believe me. But you know, right? Baby, I’m your mama.”

  Chloe was rooted to the ground. She was fascinated. She was horrified. She was even disappointed. For several years after she’d been placed in foster care she’d prayed for her mother to come and get her. Slowly that desire had faded in the face of the loving care the Fields had given her, well beyond their legal obligation of her eighteenth birthday. They had sent her care packages, letters and even an occasional small check to help her get by when she’d been accepted to Hollington, an elite college normally beyond the reach of someone with her background. Chloe had not seen nor heard from, or about, her mother in twenty-three years. The statute of limitations had run out long ago on her caring. Whatever relationship birth had given them was not enough to repair the past and give them back time.

  Chloe shook her head. “I’m sorry that things have been tough for you. But, it’s too late. I don’t know you anymore, and you don’t know me…Billie.”

  She whispered the name as it suddenly came back to her. She hadn’t spoken it in years.

  Billie. Wilhelmina. Wilhelmina…Burns.

  “You used to call me Mommy. Not Billie. I don’t mean to cause no trouble. Can’t you help me out? I need a little help to get back on my feet.”

  Chloe stared at her. She realized that she was never going to be able to appeal to her mother to accept responsibility for what had happened to them both. And now, there was nothing between them and nothing that she wanted from her, ever.

  Chloe sighed, resigned to what she needed to do. “Let me take you for breakfast. We can talk.”

  They were seated at a local café, mostly empty now that the morning rush hour was over. Still, Chloe was well aware of the glances and stares directed at them. They were an odd couple; Billie was dressed in stained and wrinkled clothing too big for her rail-thin frame, and Chloe was in her sleeveless Eileen Fisher shift with a matching cardigan tied around her shoulder.

  She let Billie order anything she wanted: grits and eggs and biscuits and sausages. And then a second order of pancakes swimming in syrup and more sausage. She drank only orange juice, needed lots of paper napkins for spills and generally had the table manners of a child.

  Chloe ordered a bowl of fresh fruit and cream and then never ate it, too concerned that it might not stay down. Mostly, she sat and listened to Billie talk, much of which was rambling and inarticulate. And Billie kept calling her “my baby.” Chloe was too dispirited and shell-shocked to do much more than sit silently and stare.

  A new concern suddenly twisted her stomach further with tension and distress. What if Kevin found out about Billie? Would the sins and shortcomings of her mother be visited on her and taint her life forever?

  “I need the bathroom,” Billie announced, staring down at the debris of breakfast that littered the table.

  “In the back,” Chloe pointed out.

  As Billie pushed away from the table Chloe’s purse, positioned near her elbow, tilted over and fell to the floor. Its contents spilled out but did not scatter.

  “I’m sorry,” Billie whined, bending over to retrieve the items.

  Embarrassed by the disturbance they were causing, Chloe quickly picked up her purse and began haphazardly tossing her things back in.

  “I’ll take care of it. You go on,” she said to Billie.

  By the time her mother had returned, their meal had been paid for. Chloe stood up.

  “I can’t stay any longer. I have to get back to work.”

  “I know you gotta do what you gotta do,” Billie said and nodded.

  “Let’s go outside. I have something for you.”

  The promise of a treat did the trick, and they left the café. Chloe reached inside her bag and pulled out a number of bills folded over. She held the money out to Billie, who didn’t hesitate to accept. She immediately stood counting the money.

  “Thank you, baby. This is good looking out for your mama.”

  “You have to stop coming here,” Chloe said quietly but firmly. “I can’t help you. I can’t give you any more money. I know you’ve had some bad breaks, and I hope things get better for you. I mean that. But I want you to leave me alone.”

  With that Chloe turned and rushed across the street.

  “Bye, baby!” she heard behind her but did not turn around.

  Chloe did not enter her building but kept walking right by the entrance. Her cell phone rang, and it was Lynette wondering where she was. She put on a harried voice. Everything was fine, but she was running late. Not to worry. She continued walking, agitated and confused, for nearly a half mile before she got tired and turned back. Billie was nowhere in sight. But Chloe wasn’t sure her mother was really gone.

  By that Friday Chloe was beginning to relax again. Four new clients came in to sign on for her company’s services, all spurred by the recent article in Luster and word of mouth. Tamara Hodges called and requested an interview for her magazine, but Chloe convinced her that Beverly Turner would be a better subject. She admitted that she was still trying to get Beverly to agree to reprise her part as homecoming queen in the Sunday parade during homecoming.

  “I don’t suppose you know if Micah Ross will be here in October?” Tamara asked.

  And Chloe totally understood why she was the one Tamara asked. But she was just as relieved she could answer truthfully that she had no idea.

  She made it to the end of the week. No more from Billie. She was looking forward to another date with Kevin. It was starting to feel like a long-awaited reward for being patient and having dodged a bullet.

  Kevin helped her into his comfortable luxury car, a Nissan 350Z Roadster. He’d asked if she was okay and then closed the door to come around to the driver’s side. In the meantime she glowed in the realization that it appeared, for real, that she and Kevin were now dating. Not a colleague or coworker or professional contact get-together for drinks, but a date. As in, nice cocktail dress, panty hose and heels, hair swept up with decorative hairpins, perfume and drop earrings, a cute little evening bag big enough for lipstick and an emergency fifty-dollar bill…in the unfortunate possibility that Kevin might still turn into Mr. Hyde in the middle of the evening and she had to get home alone.

  She’d added one more small item, her heart racing all the while thinking how sad and foolish she was behaving. So girly. But her poise and decorum had taken a hit recently, and all bets were off.

  Or, maybe she was just responding to the part of her that wanted the past to stop rearing its ugly head and leave her be. She was going to actually live her fantasy with Kevin. Chloe had a fatalistic sense that she might not get another chance.

  “Wow,” he’d murmured under his breath when he’d picked her up from her home in Grove Park.

  His admiration gave a much-needed boost to her confidence. Kevin’s attentiveness, even something as simple as holding her hand every chance he got, worked to settle her nerves.

  She had no idea what he’d planned for the night and didn’t ask. Sooner than she realized he was pulling into a private parking lot, and a valet appeared to get the doors. She realized that they’d arrived at his most popular club, Bollito. He led her inside through a private door where they were met by CB who politely greeted her, nodded silently to Kevin and then quietly began walking away. She realized that CB expected them to follow. Kevin stood back so she could walk in front of him.

  “Since you want to hold the Saturday night reunion dance and party here, I wanted to show you what you’re getting,” Kevin said and smiled at her.
“You’ve never been here before. I would have known.”

  He escorted her through a corridor that bypassed the public areas and opened onto a viewing gallery that allowed them to see all five floors of the club. He explained what kind of music each floor represented, how each was accessed, how many people the floors could hold. Eating was not allowed in the dance area, but there were cocktail tables where people could leave drinks and personal things while on the dance floor.

  “No one knows I’m here tonight except CB. He’s taken care of everything so we can have an uninterrupted dinner.”

  But they were just about to enter a small private salon when the maître d’ spotted them and called out.

  Kevin muttered an oath under his breath but then recovered.

  “This won’t take long. Let me introduce you…”

  She held back.

  “Go ahead. They want to talk with you.”

  He would have none of it. He grabbed her hand, wouldn’t let go and she lost the tug of war when she tried to pull free.

  “Bob. Cassidy. Good to see you again.” He kissed the gorgeous willowy blonde on the cheek, and shook hands with her equally handsome husband.

  “How’s it going, Kev? Hey, we don’t have reservations. Can you help us out? Didn’t want to draw any attention. You know how it is.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You know I’ll always have a table for you.” He signaled behind the couple to the maître d’ who nodded his understanding and went off to arrange the table. “Let me introduce you to Chloe Jackson.”

  Chloe smiled graciously at the couple and murmured hello. Then she recognized Cassidy Daley. She was the sharp and popular hostess of a morning program on one of the local TV stations. What she really enjoyed was the effortless way that Kevin chatted her up to Cassidy and Bob, making her sound far more accomplished than she was. He didn’t make it about himself.

  Their private dining room was cozy and romantic. The invisible sound system allowed for soft music that was far more romantic than the hip swinging music played elsewhere in the club. As a matter of fact, as the evening wore on Chloe realized she couldn’t even hear what was happening beyond their salon.