RSVP with Love

by Sandra Kitt

  He found the sponge, soaped it good and began methodically, and with gentle thoroughness, to wash her body. Chloe let him do with her what he wanted. For that moment she wanted to give over all responsibility and just submit. She so needed someone to take care of her. For the moment. Until she could pull herself together and think straight again.

  Kevin silently began on her back, from her nape down to her thighs, with an even circular motion. He made her lift her arms out and soaped each. Her sides, around to her neck and throat. Breasts and stomach. Pelvis. She stood with her eyes closed, feeling the pumping of her own heart in the trapped heat of the shower. Letting the telltale tendrils of desire pulse through her veins, swelling all her erogenous zones with languid desire.

  Then, Chloe was aware that Kevin no longer used the sponge but his hands. His very large, capable, expert, sensitive hands. This time her moan was not from despair but from the depth of feelings of another kind. The carnal and physical kind. He pulled her back against his chest, and she felt his full and powerful erection against her buttocks and lower back. His hands were gently, erotically kneading her firm breasts. Her head fell back against his shoulder, and her arms reached behind to hold his hips. Just to hold him. Chloe gasped when one of his hands snaked down her body and eased between her legs. She whispered his name and didn’t have the strength to disguise her need, desperation or pain.

  “I’ll make it better,” he whispered hoarsely. He began to kiss and nuzzle her neck.

  Even in the foggy state of her mind Chloe took Kevin’s words to mean much more than their passion of the moment. Maybe because she so wanted to believe he really could make it better.

  He turned off the water.

  Water trickled down her face. It wasn’t from the shower heat but air mixing with their body heat to create a steam bath. They were panting. Sweating. She almost couldn’t breathe in the confined space.

  Kevin pivoted her around into his arms and, holding her close, kissed her with a deep, hungry passion that disoriented her. She felt like she was going to fall.

  He put his hands under her buttocks and lifted her off her feet. Chloe put her arms tight around Kevin’s neck and held on. She wrapped her legs around his hips. Somehow he managed to step out of the shower stall with her in his arms. He got the door open, and their wet bodies were hit with a brutal wave of cold air from the open room.

  “Kevin…hurry,” Chloe urged.

  They reached her bed, and together they fell onto it, Kevin on top. Their mouths were locked, and she didn’t want to let go. She felt Kevin stretch and reach for the condom packet. She sighed into his mouth with relief. He was prepared. He was ready, too.

  They were a tangle of limbs, twisting and rolling on the coverlet, hands stroking and caressing and clutching each other. Kevin finally succeeded in applying protection—and not a moment too soon.

  They had dispatched with foreplay. There was no time for finesse. They were synchronized in joining their bodies and beginning the movements that would bring them both release and satisfaction. Yes, it was temporary. It would get them through the night. It was all either needed for now.

  Kevin sat in the car alone, waiting. The engine was off, and so were his headlights. Anyone walking through the lot could easily have missed seeing him in the driver’s seat, so he had the advantage. He didn’t dare move his gaze from the building and its one entrance, through which an interesting parade of people continued to pass, or to loiter outside, smoking, shooting the breeze, laughing, even pretty openly paying for and passing out what could accurately be controlled substances.

  He read the address on the paper CB had given him several hours earlier and compared it to the number on the building he was staked out across from. He had not driven his Nissan 350Z, which would have been an obvious contradiction in this neighborhood. Instead Kevin had borrowed CB’s car, a modest Saturn SUV, unpretentious and easily ignored. A regular vehicle for errands and supplies.

  It had taken almost a week to covertly gather the information, but CB had ascertained that the woman in question who routinely managed to collect money from Chloe lived here. It was a shelter for women in transition. They had either gone through rehab, graduated from a shelter or recently been released from jail as parolees. CB had learned that the woman, a Wilhelmina Burns, forty-eight years old, was on parole. She had served time for grand theft, possession and sale of stolen merchandise, forgery and passing bad checks. But her whole life had been a saga of bad choices in order to survive—dealing drugs, aiding and abetting. Hers had been an ugly, hard, dysfunctional existence.

  But the most stunning revelation had been that, upon sentencing for her first conviction, Wilhelmina’s child, a little girl of seven or eight, had been taken from her and made a ward of the state. The little girl had quickly passed into the Atlanta foster care system. Placed with a family, her records had been sealed.

  Without any further details it had not been a stretch for Kevin to figure out that the little girl had been Chloe.

  Kevin, staring at the changing group of characters in front of the building, suddenly sat straight and peered steady at one woman in particular. It was her. Wilhelmina Burns. He’d seen her better in daylight, but that didn’t stop him from searching for anything in the woman’s stature or face that he had also seen in Chloe. Something that would mark one as being connected to the other. The nose and shape of the face. Incredibly the same. It was enough.

  Having found what he was looking for Kevin felt no need to stay longer. He didn’t like being a voyeur. And now that he’d found out what he wanted he wasn’t sure what he should do with the information. For a brief time two weeks ago, when he’d first decided to investigate, it was only with the purest of motives. He was concerned that Chloe was either being threatened or could be physically hurt. He wanted to protect her. Or save her.

  But what, exactly, did he think he could do?

  Satisfied that he’d pieced the puzzle together, Kevin started the engine, turned on the lights and drove slowly out of the lot. He didn’t even glance in the direction of the building or the people standing around in front. At best this world held a bare tenuous connection to Chloe. Largely on her own she’d risen above her past.

  More than ever Kevin was grateful for the pushing and prodding and unconditional love of the first ladies in his life: his mother, grandmother and older sisters. Together they had circled the wagons around him and encouraged, even demanded, he be a better person and have a more fulfilling life than his own father.

  Kevin recognized how lucky he’d been. But his accomplishments didn’t hold a candle to what Chloe had managed just by believing in herself.

  Chloe put the secondhand suitcase into the trunk of her Acura RL car and slammed it shut. Then she quickly got into the driver’s seat. Immediately she started the engine.

  She wasn’t alone, and it felt strange and unnatural. Having someone else share the space, the drive and her time felt very much felt like an invasion of privacy. This was the very first time she’d ever had a passenger, and that had been by design. She studied her mother, who was in the next seat. Billie, in a kind of childish awe, ran her hands over the smooth leather armrest, played with the sun visor overhead and boldly searched through the storage compartment between their seats.

  “Please put your seat belt on,” Chloe instructed her.

  “This your car? It’s so nice,” Billie crooned, delighted with this new experience. “My baby got her own car!”

  Chloe didn’t answer, instead pulling into traffic when Billie had done as asked. It was late Friday afternoon, and she knew she was going to hit rush hour traffic. She’d always set her work schedule to avoid this, using her drive to and from her office as a period of needed time for silence and meditation. Then, the driving was easy and automatic and enjoyable. It had actually become nicer since getting involved with homecoming planning because many nights, by the time she was headed home, there was almost no traffic at all. Now that she and Kevin seemed to
be an item, as her assistant Lynette liked to tease, many of the rules had changed and she had been forced, willing, to accommodate the time they spent together. On those nights she stayed with him or, just as often, he stayed with her.

  This weekend she was doing neither.

  Next to her Billie entertained herself with the changing scene outside her window, pointing out things that caught her attention and commenting or asking questions. But she quickly became bored with that and wanted to listen to music. She couldn’t decide if she wanted the air-conditioning on or if she felt better with the windows open. And for the third time since Chloe had picked up Billie at her shelter, Billie wanted to know where they were going.

  “Well, first we’re going shopping,” Chloe reminded her. “I think you need clothing that fits better than what you’re wearing. We’ll get whatever you need.”

  Billie nodded but frowned. “What else?”

  “Then I thought we’d stop and get something to eat.”

  “I want to go to Captain D’s restaurant,” she demanded.

  Chloe sighed. “Okay. If that’s what you want,” she agreed patiently.

  “Then what we gonna do?”

  “After we have some dinner we’re going to my house. You’re staying with me for the weekend, so we can get you ready for Monday. Do you remember what we’re doing on Monday?”

  “I forget.”

  “I found you a nice room all by yourself in a group home for women.”

  Billie shook her head vigorously. “No! I don’t want to stay in no group house. They take your stuff.”

  “You said that’s what people did at the shelter. I think the group home will be safer.”

  “No group home! They take your stuff.”

  Creeping along in traffic and boxed in by cars on every side, Chloe began to feel almost claustrophobic. Despite the comfortable coolness from the air-conditioning she opened her window and turned her face to inhale the exhaust-filled air.

  “Look, we’ll do this, okay? We’ll just go and take a look at the home. And if you really don’t want to stay there then we’ll think of something else.”

  “Okay.” Billie nodded, agreeable. “Then what else?”

  “Your parole officer told you to find some work. Life would be a lot easier if you had a job and could make your own money.”

  Billie made a face. “Work?”

  “I know it’s a new concept,” Chloe murmured sarcastically, speaking before she could think. “You wouldn’t have to stay at the shelter or have anybody tell you what to do. Wouldn’t you like that?”

  Billie was silent for a few minutes, and Chloe hoped that the logic might actually sink in and make sense.

  “I don’t know. Working is hard. I’d have to take care of myself.”

  “Yes, I know. That’s the idea,” Chloe said.

  She was discouraged by Billie’s silence. Billie actually became sullen. But Chloe was grateful that the rest of the drive didn’t require conversation. She could, for a little while, bury herself in her own thoughts. The uppermost of which was the fear that someone would find out about Billie and their relationship. It would get to the press, she’d become exposed and business would suffer. She’d lose customers and respect. She’d lose Kevin.

  But did she really have him?

  Chloe pressed her hand against her stomach, trying to calm the fluttering and churning and not become overwhelmed by the very thought. She’d been in love with him since she was just eighteen. Foolish, perhaps, but there it was. That happenstance, circumstance or that the gods had seen fit to grant her wish and bring them together had surpassed everything. That Kevin himself, as a man, was so much more in reality and not just in her dreams left her breathless but afraid. Because despite everything to the contrary, Chloe was still waiting with bated breath for the other shoe to drop.

  Kevin had called the previous Tuesday morning and suggested they visit Centennial Olympic Park on Saturday, hang out for the day and maybe head to Little Five for music and dinner later on. She’d lied and told him she’d love nothing more but was a little behind on a project and needed to squirrel herself away. In that case, Kevin had replied he’d do the best he could to survive without her. She could not tell him that she had prior plans involving her mother.

  Finally Chloe took the exit that led to the local mall. She decided they would shop a little bit first and then eat. She had to be firm and cunning with her mother in order not to walk away with clothing for Billie that was cheap, unattractive or inappropriate.

  It was almost ten when they finally left the mall. Billie fell asleep in the car. Chloe guessed that she was used to sleeping whenever she wanted and then staying up late into the night…or early morning.

  Her cell phone rang. It was Kevin.

  “Hey. How’s it going?”

  “Oh…okay,” Chloe improvised, feeling guilty, and talking quietly to avoid waking Billie.

  “Getting any work done?”

  “Not tonight. I’m only now heading for home.”

  “Have you eaten? Can I bring you a doggy bag from the restaurant?”

  She smiled. “That’s sweet, but don’t bother. I ate something quick a few hours ago. I just want to get some sleep.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes, Kevin. You know, we’re not attached at the hip.”

  “Well, the hip connection is not exactly the place I had in mind.”

  “You’re disgusting,” she said and laughed.

  “I don’t know if I like the idea of not seeing you.”

  “Don’t expect me to believe you were ever celibate and a homebody. I’ve seen the publicity pictures of you and every gorgeous woman in Atlanta. I’ve been there when your cell phone was burning up with incoming calls from old lovers. I don’t want to be added to the list. It’s too easy to be dropped and forgotten.”

  She thought maybe she’d gone too far with her teasing when he didn’t answer right away. But Chloe knew she was only half teasing. It had begun to dawn on her that Kevin could get tired of her. He might throw her over. Much better to let him believe she could just walk away, too.

  “I’ve been to the circus, Chloe. I’m no longer attracted to flash and magic and colored lights. I want the real deal, and I’m not going to settle for less.”

  “I thought we were talking about the weekend, just a few days,” she murmured quietly.

  “No. That’s what you’re talking about. I have something else in mind.”

  Of course, he didn’t say what. But her speculations made the rest of the drive back to Grove Park pleasant, and dreamy and hopeful. And she couldn’t wait for the weekend to be over.

  Chloe had thought long and hard over where Billie was going to sleep for three nights. It seemed a bigger problem even than what she was going to do with her during the day. She finally decided on the home office on the first floor. There was a leather love seat sleeper and a bathroom right off the room. It would give Billie privacy and the run of the first floor. She would be near the kitchen, and she could help herself to whatever she wanted from the refrigerator. Better yet was the flat-screen TV. Her limited attention span made it the ideal entertainment and babysitter.

  She gave Billie an abridged tour of the house, keeping to the main floor. Chloe didn’t think she could get into much trouble down there. Her master suite and the two guest rooms were on the upper floor, and Chloe had already closed off the end of the hallway, making it far too much trouble to try and get into the rooms. Her room, at the top of the stairs, allowed her to see and hear noise from below or on the stairs. And her room could be locked.

  It was after one in the morning when she finally said good night, exhausted and unable to stay awake any longer. It was clear that Billie was not going to go to bed and to sleep before she did. As she climbed the stairs to her room Chloe had a sudden vivid memory of the last time Kevin had stayed over, of their lovemaking and falling asleep in each other’s arms. Of waking up to hugs and kisses and whispered endearments and
languishing in bed. For a moment she wished she’d told Kevin her plans.

  No.

  Out of the question.

  Chapter 7

  “Micah. How you doing, man? It’s Kevin Stayton.”

  “Kevin Stayton,” the rich voice repeated lazily on the other end of the line. “Not the Kevin Stayton? The only Kevin Stayton I know was a resident heartthrob in college, but grew up to become one hell of a businessman.”

  Kevin’s laughter boomed in response. “Yeah, you got it right.”

  “Ah…which part? The resident heartthrob or the astute businessman?”

  “I only cop to the second. I’m getting too old to play the ladies’ man.”

  “I doubt that. I read the glossy magazines. You get a lot of play. What’s up? Haven’t heard from you in a long time. Everything all right?”

  “Yeah, everything’s good. No complaints. How about yourself?”

  “I’m making myself and a lot of talented Black singers obscene amounts of money. Five will probably get Grammy nods. I have one under contract for a TV series.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I assume all that. I’m talking about you? Seen any action?”

  “By that I assume you mean arm candy? L.A. is, as they say, target-rich territory, but the women out here don’t do it for me. And to be honest, it’s been a rough summer, know what I mean? I just want to lay low and out of sight for a while.”

  “Sounds like something or someone’s got you on the run, Micah. You’re usually much too cool for that.”

  “I don’t know, man. Maybe I’m tired. Maybe I need a break from all this. Who knows?”

  “Well, the break we can do. One of the reasons I’m calling is to see if you’re coming to the Hollington homecoming next month. And don’t tell me you didn’t get the invite, ’cause Chloe Jackson said you were on the list.”

  “I got it,” Micah said with almost indifference. “Hadn’t planned on going, Kevin. Not sure if it’s my thing. Once I left Atlanta, I left. You can’t go home again.”

  “Nobody’s asking for all that, man. We just want to see you for a few days. Play catch-up. Drink beer and wine. Sing corny school songs.”