Hitta's Tea Maker 2

by Edwina Fort

  I frowned. “Go where?”

  “Go to get married, where else?” He stood, causing me to rock back and forward as my little bed shifted under his weight.

  Clutching my sheet, I struggled to sit upright. “What?! You mean, now!?”

  “Yeah…now,” he muttered, placing his phone and wallet that he’d sat on my nightstand earlier back into his pocket.

  Still sitting on the bed clutching the sheet to me, I stared up at him like he’d lost his mind.

  “Where in the world are we going to find somewhere to get married so late in the day?”

  He chuckled… “Just come on and get dressed, I know a place.”

  Chapter 19

  God Sent Me an Angel

  Love is passion, obsession, someone you can’t live without. If you don’t start with that, what are you going to end up with?

  Meet Joe Black

  Angel

  “It’s beautiful!” I gasped, staring at myself encased in the cream and yellow frothy bohemian creation. It was too beautiful to compartmentalize it as a wedding dress.

  “It’s Vera Wang, darling!” Dame Marjorie gushed before instructing one of the three women who were working on my dress to pinch the corset tighter around my bust before pinning it.

  This had to be Wayne’s doing, it had his signature of excellency all over it. I’d thought when Hitta said that he knew a place to get married that he meant a little hole-in-the-wall that sported a neon sign that said Get Married Now by Elvis or something like that.

  I never expected to end up on a private jet to Beverly Hills and taken to a place that can safely be classified as paradise. Sitting on twenty-plus acres of rolling hills, lush lawns, and palm trees was the human-sized version of the Barbie Malibu Mansion. Apparently, it was where all of the stars came to elope. For the right price, one could have a glamorous wedding whenever the notion hit… And I do mean glamorous.

  As soon as we walked through the door of this mind-boggling manor, I was whisked away from Hitta by Dame Marjorie, who was part owner of this wonderland along with her husband, who will be the one marrying us.

  “I’ll need three hours to prepare the lovely bride for a wedding night she’ll never forget!” she called over her shoulder as she pulled me up a pair of golden stairs. Another woman came for Carmen and Jessie, but led them to a separate part of the house away from where I was being guided.

  Flabbergasted, I looked back at Hitta, he and Wayne stood at the foot of the stairs with Dame Marjorie’s husband. With a grin on his handsome face, my soon-to-be husband waved at me. Feeling slightly nervous, I asked the Dame why Carmen and Jessie couldn’t get ready for the wedding with me.

  “Because, darling, becoming a bride here at Château de Fontainebleau is an experience. And when the curtain is pulled back on my creation, I want all to remember the magnifique. There will be no peeking, dear.”

  As she spoke, she made sweeping gestures with her hands reminding me of one of the actors in the operas that Diana used to drag me to in her never-ending endeavor to keep up with the Joneses. I don’t know if you guys have picked up on it yet, but Dame Marjorie was a bit eccentric, to say the least.

  I don’t think she was French, although she clearly had a keenness for all things French, from the name they chose for their estate to the few French words she sprinkled throughout her sentences. If I wasn’t so nervous, I would have found it funny.

  However, I didn’t have time after that to worry about much. She took me to a pair of golden doors that sat at the end of a huge hall and when she threw them open, I was floored by all the activity that was taking place behind it.

  There had to be at least eight women bustling around the room, however, several of them were sitting on stools surrounding a—

  Dear God!

  In the center of the room hanging on a mannequin that sat on a pedestal was a yellow and cream frothy creation of my dreams. For just a moment everything in the room faded to black and a light seemed to shine down from heaven encasing the dress.

  It was a bohemian masterpiece. That’s the only word I could use to describe it. The top half of it was a strapless cream corset that was laced down the back with a yellow ribbon; its overlapping ends had been made into a big beautiful flower that sat on the side of the dress.

  However, it was the gown’s petticoat that was the true art of this creation. I’m going to try and describe it to you guys, but I can tell you now, simple words cannot do it justice. It appeared as if the frothy cream tulle materiel that made up the majority of the petticoat, fell to the floor in tattered layers. Somehow the designer successfully pulled this risky move off, calling out to the boho girl inside of me. The material was so soft it looked like a cloud. On top of it was a layer of yellow tulle that flowed into a train that had to be at least 10 feet long.

  It was simply amazing…

  My stunned gazed went to the Dame. “How did you know?”

  I don’t know if I was asking her how she knew that I was into the Boho look or how she knew that I would love this particular dress, seeing as to how there were no others here in the room.

  She got so much satisfaction from my response her eyes sparkled. “Because I’m good at what I do, bunny.” Turning, she clapped her hands together getting her workers' attention.

  “Ladies, this is our bride-to-be… Let’s give her the Château de Fontainebleau experience!”

  And then it began, the whirlwind of me preparing for my wedding. I was plucked, tucked, waxed, perfumed, powdered, plucked some more…tucked a bit more, but the end result nearly brought tears to my eyes, which would have been catastrophic because it had taken the young lady nearly an hour to apply my makeup.

  I loved everything about my look, including my hair that had been flat-ironed and styled. You see, I generally didn’t like to straighten my hair, but the beautician showed up to show out. Once she took my braids down, she went to work, and I ain’t gon’ lie, that girl laid my hair. It tumbled down my shoulders and back to rest just above my waist.

  According to the Dame, she was the personal beautician of a very famous singer, but for privacy purposes, she couldn’t tell me her name, she just made the buzzing sound of a bee before winking at me.

  My mouth dropped… “Oh my God! Did Beyoncé’s beautician just do my hair?!” I screeched.

  The Dame just chuckled before shrugging one of her shoulders as she carefully positioned the gorgeous yellow veil on my head.

  “As you are walking down the aisle my beauty, there will be a gentle breeze just overhead and it will cause your veil to float around you in a most alluring way. It will make you appear to be the Angel you were named after. Your groom will take one look at you and see you for the gift that you are.”

  Dang it! Now her words were going to bring me to tears.

  I chuckled trying to play it off a bit. “I don’t know about that. Hitta is not really the sentimental type if you know what I mean." My voice quivered a bit.

  Goodness, I was losing the battle.

  “Trust me, bunny, I’ve been doing this for over forty years. Something happens to certain men when their eyes land on their new brides for the first time. Forty years and I’ve been able to call which marriages will last forever and which were doomed before they even began. I’ve never been wrong about it”

  She tapped my hand with her finger. “You have found your soulmate. Many are not as lucky. Mark my words, you and your handsome man will grow old together.”

  Yep, I didn’t make it, that tear I was fighting broke the surface, but Dame Marjorie was ready and seemed to produce a tissue from thin air to dab at my eye before it could fall.

  “I’ve never been so beautiful,” I admitted to the older woman as she and I stood looking at the finished results in the mirror.

  “And that, my dear, is the Château de Fontainebleau experience.” She came and air-hugged me in fear that we would mess something up if we actually touched.

  “Come, let’s get you married, shall
we?”

  Y’all, I was a nervous wreck. When she positioned me behind the door that led to the little hall where the wedding was taking place, my teeth were chattering. A few of the ladies who worked on my dress situated my long train. Dame Marjorie gave me parting instructions on how to walk to keep it straight and then she and her staff disappeared, leaving me standing alone before those doors that will lead me to my fate.

  Please God, don’t let me do something like trip over this dress and fall to my face.

  “So, you’re the tea maker that got my boy wanting to be a better man, huh?”

  Startled, I whipped around and nearly toppled over in the many layers of my dress. However, when the handsome man with the light brown eyes saw that, he hurried to catch me before I hit the floor.

  “I’m sorry, shawty, I didn’t mean to frighten you. Rome…” he said holding his hand out once the threat of my going down and disappearing into a pile of tulle fabric had passed.

  “But my wife and mother insist on calling me Romeo.”

  As I shook his hand, my mouth fell open for what seemed like the hundredth time in a matter of hours. So, this was the famous Rome, thug genius extraordinaire.

  “Wow!” was all I could say.

  That made him chuckle again. “I see the big guy has been talking about me.”

  “All the time,” I admitted. “But mostly about how you were always beating him in chess.”

  He nodded his head. “Well, you know, I am pretty great!”

  That made me laugh, causing me to forget all about my nervousness. “And very humble too, I see.”

  He shrugged. “That I am…”

  “Not,” I finished for him causing us both to laugh.

  “I would be honored if you will allow me to escort you down the aisle, lovely lady,” he said when our laughter died down. He accompanied his request with a little bow.

  “That would be a great relief. Before you scared me, I was praying that I didn’t fall on my face.”

  He held out his arm for me to take. “Well, we can’t have that now, can we?”

  No sooner had I wrapped my shaking hand around his arm, the door was thrown open and the beautiful sound of a harp greeted us.

  “You ready?” he whispered, smiling down at me encouragingly.

  I nodded… “Yeah, let’s do this.”

  As soon as I took my first step into the hall, I could feel the gentle breeze the Dame spoke of; it wasn’t overly aggressive. In fact, one would probably pay no attention to it if they didn’t know about it. It was just enough to cause the soft veil resting on my head to gently blow behind me.

  I was amazed to see that there were quite a few people inside.

  “Who are all of these people?” I asked Rome without moving my lips.

  He chuckled. “You ain’t marrying no scrub, baby girl. Didn’t you know? Yo’ man famous.”

  His silliness was just enough to knock off the initial panic I felt at seeing so many new faces. Nervously, I scanned the crowd searching for someone I recognized. Carmen, Wayne, and Jessie waved at me from where they sat in the front. All three of them looked very nice in their dressy clothes; I smiled at them, so glad they were here.

  But then my gaze landed on my husband-to-be and everybody else disappeared. He stood looking like a great African king, more handsome than I’d ever seen him in a cream suit that had a yellow flower sticking out of the top pocket, but it was his eyes as he took me in that I will never forget. He looked at me as if I was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

  And when he lifted his hand and placed it over his heart, I feared that those makeup destroying tears were going to come back with a vengeance.

  Hitta

  I’m not a very spiritual man. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I know there is a God, but until today, I thought that maybe he had forgotten about me. I feel like I’ve been fighting my whole life, it was the first thing I remember ever doing. I know it will probably be the last thing I ever do.

  Until this moment, I ain’t never felt like my life was worth sh*t. Yeah, I made a name for myself, but without money, nobody would even have known it. It’s hard to feel accomplished when the only thing you got to show for it is a little bit of dough.

  I ain’t like my boy Rome, who masterminded bringing value back to the hood. His name will always be remembered because he left behind a legacy. The only thing I can do good is destroy.

  Yeah… Didn’t think God paid attention to nothing ass niggas like me. That’s what my mama always called me when I was a shawty, a nothing ass nigga.

  But that was before He sent me an Angel. I put my hand on my chest to try and stop my heart from racing. Maybe God had made a mistake and meant to give her to another man who was worthy of her. Maybe He got his wires crossed and thought I was something I wasn’t.

  As I watched her come down the aisle toward me, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I’d somehow been gifted something very rare and I couldn’t figure out why. I tried to think about something I’d done to deserve her but could come up with nothing, which meant God had made a mistake and gifted me with one of His jewels.

  It’s the reason why as soon as she said yes, I had to see the deed done. I couldn’t let daybreak come before making her legitimately mine. That way when God realized His mistake, it would be too late. Although I wasn’t that learned in the Scriptures, even I knew that He is a just and righteous Power that honored contracts. And today, Angel and I were entering a binding contract.

  I blinked trying to see if my eyes were playing tricks on me. She was so beautiful; she didn’t look real. It looked like she was floating down the aisle toward me. I took a deep breath trying to calm my racing heart, but it didn’t help.

  Sh*t! I was getting ready to lose my cool. Never have I ever felt so unworthy of somebody. When she came to a stop in front of me, I lifted her veil from her face with hands that shook. I couldn’t look away from her beautiful eyes. Her smell wrapped around me bringing my rapidly beating heart back to its regular pace and I was able to breathe again.

  I know it wasn’t time to kiss her, but I couldn’t help myself, I needed the calming effect of her taste. The hall erupted in cheers as I wrapped one arm around her waist and lifted her so that I could devour her mouth, her taste calming down the unsteady beast that’s always there inside of me.

  When I placed her back on her feet, she bit her bottom lip as she bashfully looked at the cheering crowd. Like me, she probably wondered who all these mutha f**kas were. Leave it to Wayne to be able to plan a wedding to make the Princess of Wales green with envy in only a day’s time. I told him my plan to get Angel to marry me last night; he’d been on the phone ever since and had managed to get all of this done.

  He was even behind this beautiful dress my baby was wearing, telling the crazy broad that run this joint what color and style to get. Sh*t! This the first time I can honestly say I appreciate his controlling ways.

  The minister or whatever he was started his wedding spiel. And after about fifteen minutes of the sh*t, I wanted to snatch his ass and tell him to hurry the f**k up before Angel changed her mind and realized she was marrying a f**kan gutta rat. I felt like I couldn’t breathe easy until it was done.

  As if she could sense the turmoil going on inside of me, my baby reached up and placed her little hand in the center of my chest. And y’all gon’ think I’m bullsh*tting you, but I felt an instant calm. I smiled; this girl got me wrapped around her baby finger and I was loving every bit of it.

  When finally it was time for me to kiss the bride, I wrapped both arms around her lifting her for my kiss. The crowd erupted as Rome and Wayne patted me on the back. Having eyes only for Angel, I placed her back on her feet, although I kept my arms around her holding her close.

  She looked up at me and smiled with tears of joy in her eyes, and I knew that I was the luckiest man in the whole world…

  You know what? Scratch that. What was happening to me didn’t have nothing to do with luck. I was b
lessed, only God can give a man a woman like Angel.

  “Hey you," I told her, drowning out everyone around us.

  Biting her bottom lip, she hit me with that sexy ass smile. “Hey.”

  “You’re mine now, Teacup. Now and forever, baby…”

  Angel

  “See, the trick is making sure to keep your layer of strawberry cream cheese very thin as you spread it across the chicken sandwich meat. Then you place your pickle slices in the center and roll it all up like a cigar.” Rome’s lovely wife held up her finger indicating for me, Carmen and Jessie to pay close attention.

  “Last but not least, you come back with a gentle sprinkle from a fresh lemon.” Her gaze was so serious. “If the lemon isn’t fresh, it’s not going to taste the same, trust me.”I nodded from where I leaned against the sterling silver island. My elbow was on the cold metal and my head was resting in my raised hand. I was barely standing thanks to the four glasses of champagne I’d had and the fact that it was like three in the morning. I’d danced like a crazy woman at my wedding reception for the last two hours.

  My gaze went to Jessie, who was sitting on the island watching Nak roll up our snack with a look of disgust on her face. I couldn’t believe she was still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

  “That look nasty,” she told her.

  “Yeah well, what do you know? You’re just a kid,” Nak muttered before lifting one of the treats and handing it to me. She tried to hand one to Carmen, but she shook her head.

  “Naw, playa, I’m good.”

  Nak shrugged. “Suit yourself, you missin’ out on some good eating.” And then she took a healthy bite of whatever the hell this was she’d just made.

  I’m not going to lie, the way she was chewing made it look really good, so I took a bite. And would y’all believe it tasted AMAZING?!

  “Mmmmm, this so good!” I told her before taking another bite. She gave Carmen and Jessie an I-told-you-so look before she handed me another.