Looking at herself once more in the mirror caused a smile to spread across her lips. She felt beautiful, elegant, and self-assured. The turquoise wrap-around dress fitted snugly around the waist and cascaded down her hips revealing her toned figure-eight frame. After sliding her feet into her peach pumps, she approached the mirror pinning her jet black hair into a bun then applied a little make-up. Giving herself one last look, she brushed her hands down her sides smoothing out her dress as she turned to the left and then to the right making sure everything was as she wanted it to be. Turning on her heels, she snatched her peach frilly shawl out of the closet, threw it across her arm, grabbed her peach Michael Kors bag and left the room headed downstairs.
Makeba observed her mom sitting in a chair reading a book while her dad sat on the sofa watching reruns of The Jeffersons. Gingerly, she walked into the living room, laid her purse on the end table and draped her shawl over it. Lowering herself on the loveseat, she glanced at her dad who didn’t bother to acknowledge her presence.
“Another date?” Mrs. Jones asked peeking above the pages of her book, sneaking a glance at her husband’s reaction before turning her attention to Makeba.
“Yes ma’am,” she replied glancing over at her father who looked to be a bit uncomfortable in his seat. The crease in his forehead was a sure sign that he did not like what he had just heard.
During the last few months, trying to get Mr. Jones to say more than two words to her was like pulling teeth. Wanting to bring an end to the silent treatment he was giving her, she rose from her chair and approached him. Bending down, she kissed him on the cheek.
"I love you daddy.”
His lack of response brought tears to her eyes. What was even more devastating was when he got up and walked away in silence, a silence that seemed so loud if felt like her eardrum was about to burst.
“Barry! Barry!” Mrs. Jones shouted. She was livid.
“It’s ok mom.”
“Not in this house it’s not," she replied angrily as she got up, tossed her book on the end table and glanced at her daughter. Trying to force a smile, she pulled Makeba by the arm into her.
“Have a good time.”
“I will. Thanks mom.”
Mrs. Jones kissed her on the cheek then released her from the embrace and stormed off prepared to give her husband a piece of her mind. Before Makeba could return to her seat, the doorbell rang. Hurrying toward the door, she looked through the peephole. It was Declan. Fearing inviting him in would cause more harm than good, she snatched her purse and shawl from the table and left, meeting him on the front porch. Joyfully she closed the door and charged into Declan’s arms.
He looked at her inquisitively. “Is something wrong?”
“No.”
Watching as she rushed past him and down the stairs, he called out to her.
“Makeba!”
She looked back over her shoulders while draping the shawl around her.
“C’mon. I don’t want you to be late.”
Felling a tinge of disappointment, he buttoned up his black suit jacket and descended the stairs. He had every intention of formally meeting her parents tonight. It was no secret from his first visit that Mr. Jones didn’t care for him too much but he was determined to change that given the opportunity, an opportunity that she cut short as she had done so many times before. After five months of dating, he still hadn’t been given a proper introduction nor had he been invited inside her house. That was becoming an issue for him, an issue he would sure address at the appropriate time but not tonight. Tonight, was strictly about business.
Once seated inside the car, Declan looked at her and instantly the little tinge of anger disappeared.
“You look amazing.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
He reached for her hand interlocking their fingers then kissed it gingerly. Again, she smiled as she lowered her head on his shoulders. They rode in silence all the way to their destination.
The moment they arrived at the restaurant, Makeba became nervous. The style and elegance of the establishment was a sure sign that only well to do people patronized the establishment. Pulling up to the front Sal, the driver, got out and opened the door for them. Declan exited the vehicle first then held out his hand to assist his lady.
“Thank you Sal.”
“You’re welcome Mr. Whitaker. Enjoy your dinner.”
“I’m sure I will,” Declan replied as he wrapped Makeba’s arm under his.
“Enjoy your evening ma’am,” said Sal as he tipped his hat then returned to the vehicle.
Gazing at the red carpet under her feet then at Declan, she smiled. Turning almost in a semi-circle surveying her surroundings, Makeba was in awe. To the left and the right of them were outside dining areas that were illuminated in dimly lit decorative LED lights which produced an intimate atmosphere.
They continued to walk the carpet leading from the curb to the entrance of the restaurant. After crossing the threshold they were greeted by the host.
“Good evening Mr. Whitaker.”
“Good evening Charles.”
“You’ll be pleased to know your guests are already here.”
“Splendid,” Declan replied.
“Follow me please,” he said as he escorted them to their table.
Arriving at the table, Declan smiled the moment he saw his friends. They stood up to greet them as Declan began the introductions.
“Amanda, this is Makeba.’
“Honored to meet you Makeba. You are stunning."
“Likewise Amanda,” smiled Makeba as she let out a light chuckle.
Amanda was gorgeous. She was tall, thin, and blonde hair with aqua green eyes. Her hair was pinned up into a French roll. Perusing her attire, Makeba came to the conclusion that everything Amanda had on cost more than what was in her bank account.
Gesturing toward his friend of ten years, “and this is Adam,” Declan stated.
Hesitantly Makeba held out her hand. The look on his face was anything but pleasant. Instead of engaging her in a complete handshake, he grabbed two of her fingers and shook them lightly then quickly brushed his hands on the fabric of his suit jacket as if he was wiping something off. Makeba frowned at his actions as she glanced over at Amanda who gave her an apologetic stare. Knowing very well how important this meeting was to him, she brushed off his behavior hoping Declan hadn’t noticed.
Amanda and Adam returned to their seats as Declan helped Makeba remove her shawl. She stuffed it inside her purse as he pulled out her chair. Discomfort set in as she took her seat trying desperately not to look Adam’s way. Observing her actions and wanting to make her feel a little more comfortable, Amanda engaged Makeba in a conversation about fashion, complimenting her on her shoes, dress and how well the colors she chose blended in with her skin tone. She wasn’t oblivious to what Amanda was trying to do and she appreciated her efforts. As they continued on with their conversation, she began to relax a little but the churning in her stomach remained.
At the end of the last course, Declan and Adam began to talk business. A question arose in reference to training for the managerial staff. Surprised that her opinion had been sought, Makeba began to respond but was cut off.
“What would she know about this? She’s just a bartender for Christ’s sake.”
“Adam!” Amanda scolded.
In an effort to keep his composure and not bring attention to the table, Declan leaned forward. “You’re way out of line man.” He was incensed and it was evident in his tone and facial expression.
“Excuse me!”
Looking up he asked, “Where are you going?”
“Grabbing her purse, Makeba responded, “To the ladies room.”
“Wait, I’ll come with you.”
“You will do no such thing Amanda! We don’t socialize nor do we do business with them people.”
“Stop it Adam. You are embarrassing me. Stop it right now!”
“Or what Amanda?"
&n
bsp; Appalled by his behavior, Amanda reached for her purse and turned toward Makeba with watery eyes. “It was nice meeting you Makeba and I hope to see you again sometime in the near future.”
“I would like that very much Amanda.”
“I’m sorry you had to endure all of this,” she said and walked away.
“Amanda! Amanda!” She never turned around to acknowledge Adam.
A few minutes later, the manager approached the table. “Is there a problem here,” he asked.
“Not at all. We were just leaving,” countered Declan.
“Good, because we have other patrons that are trying to enjoy their dinner.”
“Understood,” Declan replied.
Declan leaned forward glaring at Adam. “I don’t think it would be a wise idea for us to do business after all.”
Standing, Adam returned his glare. “You’re going to throw away ten years of friendship for what? Because you’re going through a midlife crisis. C’mon Declan,” he chuckled, “are you seriously going to throw away an opportunity like this for the likes of her?”
Enraged, she picked up the wine glass in front of her and hurled its contents hitting the intended target. “You racist bastard!” exclaimed Makeba as she rushed toward him.
Declan jumped up from the table blocking her path. He charged at Adam punching him so hard he fell backwards in his chair then hit the floor with such force he fell unconscious. Quickly, he snatched Makeba by the hand. “You are no longer a friend of mine,” he said through clenched teeth as he pulled Makeba towards the exit of the restaurant.
Everyone looked on in disbelief at what had just taken place. Once outside, Declan called Sal and ordered him to bring the car around to the front. In less than five minutes Sal had arrived. Declan didn’t wait for him to get out and open their door. Pulling on the passenger door handle, he opened it, entering the vehicle immediately after Makeba.
Looking at her through sympathetic eyes, he pulled her into an embrace and kissed her all over her face.
“I am so sorry honey, so sorry. Had I known this is how he felt I would never have even considered doing business with him. I knew he had his issues but not to this extent.”
Choosing to remain silent, Makeba turned away from him. She knew opening her mouth at that moment wouldn’t be a good thing. She had to calm down, get her emotions in check before she did or said something in haste that she couldn’t take back. Knowing the incident wasn’t his fault did nothing to change how she was feeling. Never had she been the victim of racism of this magnitude. Yes, there were experiences when it was evidence of bigotry and yes, she had heard stories from friends and families of their experiences. True, occasionally she would have to put a customer in their place because of their mannerisms toward her but this was on a whole new level. Most of the time although the signs were there people would deny their bigotry but Adam, he didn’t care. He wanted it to be known exactly how he felt and his message was received loud and clear. This is the part her parents warned her about, this was the reason they were so concerned about her decision to date him. Shaking her head as she stared out the window, her emotions got the best of her. With the back of her hands she wiped away the tears that fell as a result of the avalanche of emotions that consumed her. Declan attempted to comfort her but she shook her head warning him to keep his distance.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered through glossy eyes.
She knew he felt bad about the incident but at that moment, she just needed time to get herself together. All kinds of thoughts clouded her mind. Was she prepared for this? Could she be making a big mistake? Is she asking for more than she bargained for? Is she strong enough to handle reactions from others who feel the same as Adam regarding interracial relationships? She had no clue. This was her first time at this rodeo. One thing was apparently clear; if she was going to continue with her relationship with Declan, she’ll need really a thicker skin and learn not to wear her heart on her sleeves.
Realizing Sal was taking the route to the hotel, she leaned forward to get his attention. “I’m going home Sal.”
“Certainly ma’am,” he replied.
Although disappointed that she wasn’t staying with him, Declan understood that she wanted to be alone. Wishing he could have done something to protect her from that experience, Declan knew it was impossible. He also came to the realization that it would be damn near impossible to protect her from it in the future, but he would damn sure try his best even if it meant severing ties with anyone who had a problem with their relationship.
Arriving in front of her house, she thanked Sal and opened the passenger door on the opposite side of Declan. He attempted to get out.
“No. Don’t.”
“Makeba I-“
Cutting him off she held up her hand. “I promise I’ll call you in the morning. Give me tonight. Please.”
Reluctantly, he closed his door and nodded his head.
“Ok.”
She exited the car and ran up the stairs unlocking the door to her house. Without looking back she entered, closing the door behind her.
“Makeba, is that you,” she heard her mother call from the kitchen.
Swallowing hard then taking a deep breath before she spoke. “Yes mama. It’s me.”
Hoping she’d be upstairs before her mother came out, she increased her speed but she was not fast enough.
“How was your date?”
Lowering her head to conceal the tears which came bursting forth, she held onto the banister for support. With concern for what was bothering her daughter, Mrs. Jones dried her hands on her apron and rushed up the stairs to her side.
“C’mon,” she said as she helped her daughter up the remainder of the steps.
Once inside her bedroom. Makeba allowed her mother to escort her to the bed. Sitting on the very edge, she glanced up through teary eyes at her mom.
“Tell mama what happened honey!” She wiped Makeba’s face with the bottom of her apron.
After pulling herself together Makeba began to speak. “Mama, it was not a good night.”
“Why not?’
“For the first time in my life, I was personally introduced to bigotry.”
“What?” Mrs. Jones was enraged.
“We went out to dinner with one of Declan’s longtime friends and potential investor. Well, turns out he was the biggest racist I could have ever imagined. From the initial introduction I knew sitting at that table with him wasn’t going to be a pleasant experience and boy was I right. He wouldn’t even shake my hand properly and what little handshake we did do he wiped his hand off on his suit jacket afterwards as if I had some sort of plague.”
“Oh honey, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
“I’m not.”
Looking up they noticed her father standing under the frame of the door.
“Oh daddy!”
“Barry!”
“Well, I’m not. This is not the only time you are going to encounter an experience like this if you continue seeing this man. It will only get worse. I don’t give a damn how dark the first family is. It does nothing for race relations. Listen, baby,” he continued as he closed the gap between them, “I’m trying to save you from a shitload of heartache and pain. End it. End it now and find you a good young black man. They’re out there, just be patient.”
“Get out Barry. Now! she doesn’t need this from you right now. She’s been through enough already tonight.”
Throwing up his hands, he left.
Makeba buried her head in her mother’s chest. Mrs. Jones lifted her chin so that they would be eye level.
“Baby, I have never sugar coated anything for you and I’m not going to start now. Your father is not completely wrong. He has every right to be concerned but I think we’ve come a long way. I don’t think it’s nearly as bad as he proclaims it to be but there are still some people out there who feel like you should stick with your own kind.”
“Do you feel that way?”
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She chuckled. “Honey, you can’t help who you fall in love with. If that was true I would have saved myself a lot of heartache with the knuckleheads I ran into before I met your father.
Makeba laughed.
“I’m glad to see a smile on your face. Regardless of what anyone thinks or says, ultimately the decision to be with this man lies with you and if you care for him then it’ll be worth any battle.”
“Thank you mama.”
“I love you baby. Get some rest.”
She kissed her on the cheek then left leaving Makeba feeling a whole lot better than when she came in and alot to think about.
As promised, the next morning she placed a call to Declan. Witnessing the sadness in his voice, she knew it was because of what transpired the night before.
“Are you ok?”
He couldn’t believe she was worrying about his welfare. He wasn’t the one that was mistreated and made to feel like he was invisible at a table full of people. It was her.
“Honey, I’m fine. I’m worried about you”
She chuckled. “Be honest, you’re worried that what happened is going to change things between us.”
Feeling exposed he cleared his throat. “A little.”
“It’s going to take a lot more than that to make me go away.’
Breathing a sigh of relief he replied, “Thank goodness.”
“You don’t have very much faith in me, do you?”
“Makeba, this is all new to me as well. I didn’t know how deeply this was going to affect you, affect us. I don’t know what I would have done if you had decided not to see me again. I can’t say if you did that I wouldn't have understood.”
“I can’t deny that I was hurt and bothered by that. I have never experienced anything like that before, not to that extent anyway. Look Declan it’s over now. I want to move past this.”
“So do I.”
Silence.
“Will I see you tonight?”
“Would you like to see me tonight?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then you will.”
“Good. I have to check up on a few things at Serenity so I’ll leave the room key at the desk. Can you be here by 1:00 pm?”
Until My Heart Stops Beating Page 7