“You know what? I don’t even want to know. Next time, wear a robe. For me, please.” He kissed her as he headed to the bedroom.
“Can I make you something to eat?”
“No,” he shouted from around the corner.
***
“Idris,” Iris said as she peeped into his room.
“What?”
“I really like this guy. Is it possible to have love at first sight?”
He shrugged. “You know I don’t believe in romantic love. I think love is a choice, not something that happens to you.”
“Someday, you’ll meet a woman who will change all of that,” she said.
“Go put on some clothes before that man goes berserk.”
12
Iris quickened her pace to a jog when she noticed the line of taxis dwindle down to two. She reached the cab just before a couple who walked with their arms locked around each other’s waist. It was a close victory as she put her hand on the handle just before they could claim the cab for themselves. She slid into the backseat and the cab whizzed away, dropping her off at Prudence’s mother’s brownstone fifteen minutes later.
Iris hurried up the stairs. She smoothed her hair, swept her bangs from her face, and approached the door, knocking softly at first, then harder. Trying the knob, it was unlocked, so she walked in and followed the voices which led to the kitchen.
“I just need to know what we’re eating. Your mom has no food here,” Jess complained.
“Pizza or Chinese?” Prudence asked while shuffling through a stack of menus she pulled from a kitchen drawer.
“You really need to update your music, Pru.” Jess said, sifting through the vast collection of downloads on Pru’s iPhone. “I mean, who even listens to house music anymore?”
“How about Thai?” Pru suggested.
“Michael Bolton? Really, Pru,” Jess laughed as she scrolled through Pru’s playlists.
“Come on, you said you’re hungry. What are we going to eat?” Pru asked.
“May I?” Iris offered, holding her hand out for the menus. Pru handed the stack to her and she rifled through until she landed on Chana Masala—Indian cuisine.
“What about this one? They deliver. Indian.”
“Sounds good, Iris. Call it in,” Jess said.
“What do you want?”
Pru’s mother, Audra, came into the kitchen to greet them. She was rather small, no more than five feet — maybe even five-two, but not much more than that. Her hips were wide with an ample derriere and a tiny waist. Her maxi dress flowed nicely over her curves, accentuating her sexy, slender femininity.
Following closely behind Audra was Pru’s father, John Clark. Their affair annoyed Pru because she knew it would be her mother who’d end up hurt once again. John kissed Pru on the cheek, greeted the others, and kissed Audra goodbye.
“Mom, do you remember Iris?” Pru said, kissing her mom on the lips.
“Yes, I do. It’s nice to see you again, Iris. How’s Peter?”
Pru shook her head, trying to stop her mother from asking, but it was too late. Iris smiled and said, “I’m assuming he’s fine. We’re divorced.”
Audra cut her eyes at Pru who gave a look of “I tried to stop you.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Iris. I’ve known Peter since he was a little boy. Sometimes it’s hard to imagine him as a man.”
“Since he was a boy? How’d you know him?”
“His father was in my unit — in the Air Force. I was his commander.”
“You were in the Air Force?”
She nodded. “I’m retired now, but yes.”
“Hey, Mama Payne,” Jess said as she stood to kiss her on the cheek.
“So, what brings you girls to my humble home?”
“Mom, we needed a place where we could just chill for a little while. We were going to do it at your café, but now everybody’s hungry for real food.”
“Well, I can whip something up for you girls if you’d like.”
Iris looked at Pru and Jess who were both nodding.
“I’m happy to help, Ms. Payne.”
“None of that Ms. Payne stuff. Call me Audra or Mom — anything but Ms. Payne.”
***
Pru and Jess were tipsy from the margaritas Pru had made and full from the appetizers Audra had prepared for them. They were listening to Audra’s old disco music, playing dominoes, and enjoying each other’s company. Iris, Pru, and Jess laughed and joked about things old and new.
Things took a somber turn when Pru mentioned Valerie. It had been three years since she buried her best friend and half-sister, Valerie Mayweather, and it had taken nearly all of that time to come to terms with her grief. Val was her go-to gal, the person she shared her secrets with and entrusted with her most heavy decisions. All of that was gone. Val’s death left a gaping hole that no one else could fill. She talked about her as if she’d knock on the door any minute. But now, Pru was marrying Val’s husband. Iris could see how much that bothered her, how conflicted she was. But in the end, her lifelong love for Richard would prevail.
Pru kept the margaritas coming. Iris wanted to consume a few cocktails but knew she’d get carried away. Jess said Pru made a mean margarita.
“Boneyard, baby!” Jess shouted as she slammed the double-six domino on the table, knowing that Iris didn’t have a six to play.
“Girl, every time you say that I get excited,” complained Pru.
“Boneyard, fool, not boner. You are obsessed with sex, Pru.”
“Jess, you gotta understand. It’s something about those Mayweather boys,” Iris said. “Well, I can’t speak for Richard, but Peter…”
“Surfboard. Surfboard…” Pru sang. “That’s all I’m saying,” she chuckled.
Iris laughed and sang the Beyonce song along with Pru, “Graining on that wood, I’m swerving on it…”
“I hated that song when it first came out, but it grew on me,” Jess admitted.
“I have it… a download, on my phone,” Iris said digging her phone out of her purse. She handed it to Pru who plugged it into her mother’s docking station with the speakers.
Pru and Iris danced together, mimicking Beyonce’s moves. Jess sat back watching, laughing, seemingly entertained by the two who obviously had at least one thing in common — the Mayweather brothers. When the song ended, they fell onto the sofa, laughing at their silliness. Jess allowed Iris’ playlist to continue. Next up, surprisingly, Kendrick Lamar’s “Bitch Don’t Kill My Vibe”.
Pru and Jess looked at each other as the song began.
Iris shrugged, “Hey, I like it.”
They went back to the table to finish their game.
“Iris, I think I can say this since we’re both white chicks,” Jess began, but Iris threw her hand up to stop her so she could sing a couple more verses of Kendrick’s tune.
When Iris finished singing, she said, “I’m 50/50. Part vanilla, part chocolate. Not too many people know that about me. Not even Peter. My mother was white. So was my stepfather. There was no way anybody could know unless I told them. But my biological father was black. At least that’s what my mother told me. I never met the man.”
“Speaking of Peter,” Pru said. “There’s no chance you and Peter will work things out?”
“Do you hear the lyrics to this song? It says, Bitch don’t kill my vibe,” she laughed, “Peter married my so-called friend. So, no.”
Both Pru and Jess looked at Iris as she pulled one, two, three dominoes from the boneyard before she could play a six. It was a blank/six.
“When did this happen? Richard didn’t tell me that Peter remarried.”
“Richard may not know, so don’t tell him. Peter doesn’t know that I know his secret.”
“Girl, your husband — I mean, ex-husband — sounds lowdown,” Jess said.
“I’d been with Peter since I was eighteen years old. I met him at work. He frequented the restaurant where I worked. He was a sophomore in college, I’d just grad
uated high school.” She smiled at the memory. “He turned me out. I’d never had anybody love on me like that. I was hooked. Three years later, we went to City Hall to get married. Ten years after that, he threw me out like dirty bath water.”
Pru played a double-blank domino then got up to blend another batch of margaritas.
“I hope you took his butt to the cleaners, girl.”
“That’s another story, Jess. I just hired a new attorney my spons… a friend recommended.”
“I need a new man. I’ve been doing that online dating. Huge flop. These men are so needy. Not a masculine one in the batch. They are so emotionally weak.”
“I should introduce you to my brother, Jess. He needs a woman like you.”
“You have a brother?”
She nodded. “Idris. My twin brother. I might have a picture in my phone. I have to say, though, he’s kind of stubborn. He likes to be in control. And, he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body. I think someone strong like you could mellow his behind out.”
Pru returned with a tray of margaritas. “Set them up, Iris. Jess needs a man in her life.”
“I need a man. Not a project. Idris sounds like a lot of work. No offense, Iris. I dunno.”
Pru sat down and nudged Jess to take her turn.
“My sweet, darling Holly’s been giving me the blues. It seems like ever since she turned thirteen, she’s been giving me a hard way to go,” Pru confessed. “It’s making it so difficult for me. There was a period of time where I actually thought about not marrying Richard. It would just be too problematic. The girls are getting old enough to understand what happened to their mother. To them, it looks like I’m trying to take her place. These days, Holly resents me for being there most of the time.”
“Those girls love you, Pru,” Jess said.
“They loved me when they were younger and when I wasAuntiePru, not soon-to-be stepmom. Holly is very vocal about me not being her mother. I keep telling her I’m not trying to be her mother. She’s so combative right now.”
“Well, isn’t that the nature of teenagers, especially girls?” Iris asked.
“Yes. But Richard won’t do anything to help the situation. He acts like nothing is going on. So I’m a surrogate mother of two daughters who resent that I’m about to be their stepmother. Well, Shannon isn’t so bad. She seems okay with it when Holly’s not around.”
Iris nodded. “That must be tough. But it will be worth it, Pru. You’re marrying your best friend, the love of your life. And you love his children. Despite their current behavior, they love you, too. Hang in there. Just be sure to enjoy your honeymoon because… well, you know.”
“Let me see a picture of Idris,” Jess said.
Pru shook her head. “It’s all about you, huh, Jess?” she said, laughing.
“You all are talking about men and children and whatnot. So, I want to exercise my options. Let me see this man.”
Jess slammed a blank/five on the table and Iris pulled three dominoes from the boneyard.
13
She awoke to the phone ringing. It was him — Preston. He wanted to see her again. It had been four weeks since they’d met, and he called nearly every day wanting to see her. Of course she obliged him. Even though she never had plans, she’d always give him a little bit of a hard time, pretending to be busy. She didn’t want to seem too anxious.
She rolled over in her bed, wrapping the covers around herself like a cocoon. His voice was familiar, heavy but soft. Although she liked the way he said her name, she loved when he occasionally called her Wildflower. He had a seductive way of rolling it off his tongue.
She looked forward to seeing him this evening, more so than previous nights. To begin with, each time she saw him, it was fun. And last night, Iris had a particularly wonderful time. With him, she felt like she was living dangerously and taking risks because he was a virtual stranger that she had given her heart and body to. She knew he had nothing to gain by being with her — but she, on the other hand, felt like she had so much to lose. Reminded of Peter’s abandonment, Sara’s betrayal, and her mother’s indifference, she wasn’t ready to have another person reject her. Proceed with caution was her mantra.
On the other hand, she was ready for something new — prepared to throw caution to the wind. It would have been easy for her to dive in head over heels — actually, maybe she had. And it felt good because for once in her sober life, even though she knew better, she was doing something impractical.
Throughout the day, she contemplated what she would wear, how she’d wear her hair, what color she’d paint her nails. She was running out of outfits that he hadn’t already seen her wear. He scrutinized her with his eyes every time he saw her, so she was certain he would notice a repeat outfit.
It’d been a long time since Iris had been excited about a man. Preston seemed a little rough around the edges, but that was exciting to her. She liked his careless abandon.
It was like her life got out of the way for the moment, so that she could enjoy herself. She didn’t think about her grief over her mother’s death. She wasn’t concerned about finding a job and paying bills. She wasn’t sulking over Peter’s betrayal. She wasn’t worrying about her future. None of it entered her mind. Life just cleared a path for her to enjoy herself for a change.
14
There was an elegance about her, a quiet reserve that he found unsettling. Preston watched her enter the restaurant in an easy stride. Her dress flowed behind her. Her hair, perfectly coiffed, bounced with each step she took. He reveled in her solemn brown eyes and sweet mouth, which was glossed in pink. How’d he get so lucky?
He toyed with telling Iris about his past – about Amanda. Iris seemed like the kind of woman who’d understand, who’d be forgiving and accepting of what happened. He was on the verge of a confession until her eyes met with his.
That smile. Her smile was infectious. It melted him. He wanted a future with her and, well, he didn’t want to keep secrets from her. But then Kathy entered his mind – his former lover, the woman who tossed him aside in London. The cold chill of her leaving him, of never wanting to have anything to do with him again, left a sour taste in his mouth.
He’d told Kathy about Amanda, which was something he’d said he would never do. But he thought Kathy deserved to know the truth – to know his past. When Preston told Kathy his secret, Kathy said, “I can’t do this. I can’t love you knowing what I now know.”
No, to tell Iris about Amanda would be relationship suicide. It had already killed the bond he had with his family, and then the relationship with Kathy. Did he want to risk losing Iris, too?
“Don’t I deserve happiness, too?” he mumbled to himself. He stood and waved Iris over to the table.
***
Brushing her hair away from her face, she saw Preston flagging her down. He was smart. She liked that he’d taken advantage of the beautiful day by getting an outdoor table.
Iris smiled at him. He was the perfect height…not too tall and definitely not too short. He wore a short-sleeved crew neck shirt that flattered his biceps and pectorals. She liked his lean hard body.
As she made her way to the table, she saw that this was a self-serve restaurant of the Texas Luby’s or Piccadilly’s variety. What was it with Preston and his restaurant choices? Maybe this type of place was big in London. She shrugged it off. She didn’t really care because she was more interested in seeing Preston than being wined and dined.
After standing in a long line, they made their food selections, filled their plates then returned to their table. She watched Preston mix his potatoes into his chicken, which was drowned by some sort of gravy. He spooned his peas into the heap and scooped a spoonful into his mouth, embarrassed when he noticed her staring.
He dabbed his mouth with a napkin he pulled from the tin on the table and grinned.
“I’m sorry. Am I being rude? You’ve hardly eaten and I’m scarfing down my food.”
She shook her head, smiling, tryi
ng to avoid his eyes unsuccessfully.
“I have a pretty big appetite,” he explained.
Iris cut into her roast. Preston sat his spoon down — he preferred eating with a spoon — and put his hand atop Iris’.
“Here, let me cut that for you,” he said.
“I can cut my own meat, but thank you.”
“No, no, no, Wildflower.”
She chuckled. “I’ve been cutting my own meat since I could handle a knife. Why can’t I cut my meat now?”
“Because.”
“Because?”
“Listen,” he smiled, then continued, “You shouldn’t have to do anything for yourself. Not one thing.”
“Oh? Why not, pray tell?”
“You’re a star. Stars don’t do, they just be,” he explained.
She snickered, “You’re so full of crap, Preston. Good one, though.”
He cut a piece of her meat and fed it to her. “Good?”
She nodded. “Mm. So much flavor.”
“Here, have another,” he said. She closed her eyes and wrapped her lips around the fork, savoring the succulent piece of meat.
Preston smiled, “I love watching you eat.”
“People complain about the way I eat. They say I eat too slowly. I think it keeps me from over-consuming.”
“Sounds like you’re being very responsible, not overdoing it.”
“Most of my life, I’ve been the responsible one. My brother got to be careless but I didn’t.”
Preston caressed her cheek with his thumb as she continued.
“Sometimes I feel like I haven’t really taken any chances, you know? I haven’t done anything spontaneously — not really. I want to do something crazy and carefree. I want to dive into the deep end of the pool without considering how cold the water might be. I want to drive fast on the freeway and not worry about getting a ticket. I want to wake up one morning and do something life changing without taking days, weeks, months, even years to think about it.”
“Sounds like you’re ready to experience all that life has awaiting you.”
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