A minute later, Julian joined me on the sidewalk outside Noma.
“I don't think we'll be welcomed there anytime soon,” he said coming up beside me.
“It wasn't my kind of place anyway,” I hooked my arm into the crook of his arm. “Now, Mr. Cole, weren't you supposed to be showing me a good time?”
His arm tightened and he raised his other arm, hailing a passing taxi cab. Opening the door, he let me in and said, “I hope you are up for what is to come.”
What was to come was dinner at a hole in the wall diner, Missy Lou’s, that served soul food that was sure to give diners hypertension and diabetes. We ate and shared our orders. I promised myself that I would be back for more. Maybe invite Toya who would love the down-home vibes.
But Julian was not done with me. Despite my wanting to lounge around and digest what I ate, he made me walk what felt like millions of blocks away to a Jazz club that was featuring an out of town band. As the singer crooned, I cuddled up next to Julian. There were times when I would close my eyes and savor the moment.
“Are you sleeping?” he whispered in my ear. “Do you want to go home?”
“No,” my eyes fluttered open. “I don't want the night to end.”
“It doesn't have to,” Julian leaned in and kissed me “Do you want to see what's next?”
Despite the fatigue dragging me down, I nodded my head. I wanted to see what Julian had in store.
“Next time,” he said. “You're too tired. There is always a next time.”
Julian was right, I was tired and as much as I wanted our time together to continue I was happy to go home.
“So when is the next time?” I looked up at Julian as we stood in the doorway of my apartment.
“You tell me,” I could hear the fatigue in his voice. “Maybe it will be you who will be showing me a good time.”
“I think I can think of something,” I said with a smirk. “Let me work out a few things and I'll let you know.”
“I'll be waiting,” Julian leaned in, his full lips brushing my cheeks. I turned and met them with my own. A brush became more intense and I was taken back to when we kissed in the woods. This time, there was no chirping phone, no interruptions, just an amazing kiss.
It was Julian who pulled away, resting his forehead on mine. “I don't want to go,” his voice stirred the inches of air between us.
“I don't want you to go,” I whispered cupping his cheek. The silence that followed was full of what if's? What if I let him stay? What if we...? What would he think? Would he think less of me? What if it turns out to be bad? What if the ultimate climax to this amazing evening was anticlimactic? What if?
With a peck on my lips, now bruised by our kiss, Julian stepped back. Already I felt chilled without his warmth.
“I'll be waiting,” he turned and began to walk down the hall towards the elevators. His steps were slow and every few steps, he would look back.
I watched as he stepped onto the elevator and it was only when he disappeared from my view did I exhale. I collapsed against the door, touching my fingers to my lips. I was falling, I was falling hard, I was falling quickly and I was enjoying the fall.
Chapter Twenty
I was too tired to dream, it was from a nothingness that my ringing phone drug me. Trashing around from a tangle of sheets, I snatched my phone from the floor. Somehow I knocked it off the nightstand.
“Hello?” I mumbled my mouth feeling like a field of cotton.
“Alexa,” Clark's voice sounded too chipper. “Is everything okay? Are we still on for later?”
Sitting up in bed, I pulled the phone away to see the time on the display. 8am.
“Yes,” I croaked, then cleared my throat. “Everything is fine and yes, we’re still on for brunch. “It's 10:30 at The Cellar right?”
“Right,” I could hear the relief in his voice. “I'll see you then.”
“Okay,” I said before hanging up.
Okay, I had less than two and a half hours to pull myself together, scrub away last night and start today anew. But first... I was going to close my eyes for a second.
If only I knew that a second would turn into an hour. Thank God, I still had a little over an hour to spare.
After a quick shower, painting my face and popping an aspirin, I shrugged on my clothes and ran out the apartment with minutes to spare.
When I arrived at The Cellar, Clark was walking from the other direction.
“Hi,” he said coming to a stop in front of the restaurant.
“Hi,” I said, taking in his Sunday casual.
“Shall we?” he cocked his head towards the entrance of the restaurant.
“We shall,” I said with a smile.
Despite the crowd, we got a good seat near the front window. After we made our order, I settled into my seat and enjoyed my cup of coffee.
“What were you up to before coming here?” I asked, meeting his gaze.
“Why do you ask?” Clark didn't sound offended.
“When you called me earlier, you sounded very much awake,” I pointed out.
Through a chuckle, he looked out the window, “Some habits die hard. I'm an early riser and by the time, I called you, I was up for about three hours.”
“You were up at 5 am on a Sunday morning?” I balked. When Clark shrugged, I leaned forward, “Is that the secret to your success?” I asked in a stage whisper.
Picking up his mug, he held it up, “You've found me out, now don't tell anyone.”
Sitting back in my seat, I drew my fingers across my lips and pretended to throw away the key. Looking around the eatery, I saw couples on dates and groups of friends chatting it up. “Thanks for inviting me out to brunch,” I looked back at Clark. “I haven't done this since law school.”
“How come?”
I shrugged, “I became an adult with responsibilities – work, significant others who weren't into this - then I just never got around to doing it.”
“And now?” he asked, taking a sip of his brew.
“Now, I have a handle on my life,” I looked down at the milky remnants in my cap. “For the most part.”
“What are the other parts?” he sounded truly interested.
I looked up, perhaps, expecting to see disinterest, instead, I saw genuine curiosity. “Parts that I'm still working on, but enough about me. What about you, businessman of the year, keynote speaker and there's talk of authorship.”
With each achievement, Clark reddened and it was his turn to look into the cup. That morning we were psychics doing readings, but instead of tea leaves, we saw the results in coffee grains and instead of futures, we delved into ourselves.
“Some would say that I'm very lucky to share a meal with you,” I tried to coax him.
“And that is what people can't accept,” he said to the cup. “They can't accept that part of my success boils down to luck.”
Before I could respond, the waitress brought our orders. A chef's omelet with sausages, hash browns and a spinach salad for Clark and french toast, scrambles eggs, prosciutto, and a tomato and cucumber salad for me.
After thanking the waitress, I turned my attention back to my date.
“It can't all be luck,” I said picking up my utensils. “I'm sure luck had a role to play but I think you sell yourself short.”
“Why law?” It came out of nowhere.
I hesitated, unsure where this was going. “My reason, at first, was because it would make my folks proud, but I grew to love what I do.”
“So you enjoy what you do?” his gaze was unwavering. “Well, I enjoyed what I did and what I'm doing, then I became successful. I had more responsibility and over time, I let go what I did and pursued something else, the same thing would happen. Then people came along wanting to know the secret to my success. Not many want to believe that its hard work and the love of what I do.”
With a smirk, I said, “It sounds like you resent your success.”
Clark attempted a smile of his own, “I
know, first world problems.” He picked up his utensils and cut into his omelet.
“Problems are still problems,” I pointed out.
At this, Clark looked up, his eyes searched my face but my smirk was long gone. “You are something else, Alexa,” he said at last.
“I hope that's a good thing,” I popped a slice of toast into my mouth.
“You don't know how long I've been waiting to come along someone like you,” he stated. “Not many women would say what you just said.”
“By the way you talk, I sound like a unicorn,” I laughed. “I'm just me, nothing special, I like your company and I hope you like mine. So let's just enjoy this.”
It was getting heavy and I wasn't comfortable with delving into deep emotions. Thankfully Clark got the hint.
“So what do you normally do on a Sunday?” he looked away.
“Depends on if I have a case,” I began to explain.
Our conversations walked the line between light and intense. The more I knew of Clark Sullivan, the more I saw a man who needed someone to confide in. There was an honesty between us and I found myself telling him things I never told my friends.
The brunch ended and we spent the afternoon visiting museums and art galleries. And somewhere between Van Gogh and Jackson Pollack, I told him about Julian.
“Is it serious?” he asked before turning towards a huge canvas.
“It's too early to say,” I admitted, watching his profile, looking for telltale signs.
“Does he know about me?” Clark glanced across at me.
“No,” I shook my head and looked at the splatters of paint. “Not yet.”
“Why did you tell me?” he turned towards me.
“Because...” I licked my lips and turned towards him. “Because I like what we have so far, you've been honest with me and I want to be equally honest.”
One of my locs had fallen free and Clark reached forward and tucked it behind my ear. It was a simple act but it felt so intimate.
“What if I don't want to share you?” he cupped my cheek.
I pulled away and walked towards the next canvas, “It's too soon.”
“Naomi and Malachi?” Clark came up behind me. If I leaned back, I would fall into him.
I nodded. “I need time to get past it.”
I felt his arms wrap around me and he whispered, “And when that time comes to an end, I'll be here.”
I leaned into his embrace and fell into Clark.
The question that could arise was, 'What am I getting myself into?' My answer would have been, 'Does it really matter?’
Chapter Twenty-One
With much reluctance, I closed the door of my apartment. To say I felt this exact way less than 24 hours ago with Julian. Two men and my not wanting to leave their company. Thanks to them, the last 36 hours were the best in my dating life. It dulled the ache caused by seeing Naomi and Malachi, the bitterness faded; and if I kept up this type of treatment, the whole incident would be nothing but a sad, faded memory.
I had started to walk towards my bedroom when the buzzer went off. Thinking it was Clark forgetting something, I pressed the intercom and said, “Hi Clark.”
The pause that followed made me realize that I was presumptuous. “It's not Clark, Alexa,” Toni's voice rose from the static. “Can you buzz me up.”
Without hesitation, I pressed the button to the lobby door and opened my door, standing in the doorway. Something wasn't right. It was the way my friend's voice hitched, the way her words seemed to be waterlogged. Words she, for the most part, had said countless times before.
My worries were confirmed when Toni stepped off the elevator and walked as though death was at her side towards me. As she got closer, I saw her eyes were as wide as an owl’s and rimmed red as tears streaked down her cheeks. When Toni came to a stop in front of me, she was looking at me, but I didn't believe that her haunted eyes saw me.
“I... said I wanted a divorce,” he voice cracked. “And he... he agreed to it.” With the last word, Toni shattered into pieces.
I wrapped my arms around her, resting her head on my chest. Her sobs were tremors that I absorbed, but her pain I could never take away. Instead, I bundled Toni up and brought her to the living room. I sat her on the sofa as though she was a precious china doll, then ran to the kitchen to put water to boil for tea.
Coming back into the living room, I found my friend curled up in the corner, tears fell but her sobs were gone.
“What exactly happened, Toni?” I sat down beside her.
She didn't look at me as she spoke, “We were arguing, again, about his not spending time with the boys. I was frustrated. I was angry and I said it.”
Toni looked at me, then turned fully towards me, her hands reached for mine, “I didn't mean it and I regretted it as soon as I said it. I tried to take it back but he... he just nodded his head and said that it was for the best.”
I placed a hand on top of hers, just before I uttered a word the kettle screamed for attention. In record time, I prepared two cups of tea and returned to Toni. I handed her a cup and set mine on the coffee table.
Giving my friend my complete attention, I asked, “Has it been that bad?” From my vantage pint, Toni and Aaron had the perfect marriage, but it appeared that I was wrong.
“It hasn't been the greatest,” she replied, watching the steam rise from her cup. “But I tried to make it work.”
Toni shook her head and glanced across at me, “It's almost as if he was waiting for this. He simply went along, no resistance, no thinking it over. Anger flashed through the heavy fog of sadness.
“What am I going to do?” she fell back into the sofa, the cup of tea cupped in her hands as she brought it to her lips.
“What do you want to do?” I reached for my tea and sipped it. “Do you want to stay in this marriage because you want to or because you are supposed to?”
Toni looked at me, then closed her eyes, her head falling back against the back of the sofa. There was a reason she came to me, I was going to ask the hard questions, the ones she couldn't bring herself to ask, much less answer.
“Is your marriage worth fighting for?” I continued. It felt like a tightrope walk, one wrong step, one unsure footing and we would go tumbling into more pain, more tears. “Aaron clearly doesn't think so,” it was hard to say and still I said it.
No, I didn't want to see my friend's marriage crumble, devastating the lives of her children, leaving Toni unsure of anything and everything, but when two people were unhappy.
“What do you want for yourself?” I brought the silence to an end when Toni said nothing.
“I wanted us to be together,” she said at last. “I wanted the perfect family. I wanted the perfect marriage. I wanted him to touch me, to love me.”
“And now?” I cocked my head to the side as though trying to see what Toni was seeing behind her closed lids.
“Now I want to stop fighting,” her eyes opened and she looked across at me. “I'm tired of fighting with my husband, tired of fighting for our marriage, tired of fighting to keep everything together.”
But did she want the divorce? The answer was not coming tonight. Tonight was just the beginning and all I could do was start the conversation. Well, that and provide a place for her to become undone.
“Alexa,” Toni sat up and turned fully towards me. “Can I-”
“Yes,” she didn't have to ask.
“Thanks,” she sank back into the sofa. “It's just too much to work out. I still don't know if it's real and I don't want it to slip out to the boys. Not yet at least.”
“What if Aaron says something to them?”
“I told him not to,” she sighed. “I wanted us both to tell them as a united front. He promised he won't say anything.”
“I'm sorry, Toni,” I said. I knew the words were meaningless, but I wanted to say them.
“Me too,” her words were heavy.
“You're tired, go ahead and get some sleep in my bedroom,
” I nodded at its direction.
“No,” Toni shook her head. “I'm fine right here.”
Getting to my feet, I took her cup of now tepid tea and placed it on the coffee table. Then I took Toni's hands and pulled her up. “I insist,” I draped my arms around her shoulders and led her to the bedroom.
There I pulled out a barely worn pajama set and placed them on the bed. Turning to Toni, I said, “Sleep and in the morning things might start to make sense, the path forward would become clearer.”
“Thank you, Alexa,” Toni stepped forward and hugged me. She was feeling better but it would be a while before she returns to the Toni I knew. Would she ever be the Toni I knew?
Closing the door behind me, I pulled out my phone. By the time I reached the kitchen, I had Toya and Luisa on the line.
“They've what?” Toya exclaimed.
Luisa, on the other hand, was quite quiet.
“You know something, Luisa Martinez,” I said, entering the living room and collecting the tea cups.
“Well,” she stretched the word to its limit.
“Well, what?” Toya prompted.
“Well, you guys never went out with them as a couple,” Luisa was slow to answer. “Caesar and I have gone on double dates with them a couple times and to quote Caesar,” Luisa reeled off a string of Spanish.
“Inglese,” Toya stated.
“I'm cool with Toni and Aaron, but please don't make me go out with them.” Luisa added, “They are awkward. Between the underlying tension and the nitpicking, I didn't want to go out with them either. I would make up excuses. Caesar has no problem being the fall guy.”
“I didn't know,” I admitted.
“Me, neither,” Toya said.
“It's not as though I would go around and say that Toni's marriage has issues and they should try to work it out,” Luisa pointed out. “It's their issues to work out.”
“I guess they couldn't be worked out,” Toya said. “Where is Toni now?”
“She's in my bedroom sleeping,” I answered. “She was eventually drained.”
“I'll give her a call in the morning,” Luisa said. “It's going to be a tough time ahead, no matter what they finally decide.”
I Do... NOT Page 7