“I know. Good to see you, Reverend.”
Star reached out for a hug, too. “And you, little lady. You’re looking more like your mother every day.”
“Thanks,” said Star, as she fidgeted with her scrunchie, reaching back to secure her long braids into a ponytail.
Mercedes started to take a step toward the car. “Well, Rev, take care and make sure you tell your wife Robbie we said hello. We’ll see you next week.”
“He’s a real special man,” Mercedes told her kids. “We’re blessed to have him in our lives. He seems like he really cares.”
“Uh huh,” said Star, as Rashaad eagerly took the keys from his mom so he could drive her car.
Mercedes placed her hand out for him to give them back. “Not so fast, mister.”
“Oh, Mom,” he replied, handing them over with reluctance, slumping his shoulders.
“Do you want to go eat at Dinah’s Restaurant or Pann’s?” Mercedes asked.
“I say Pann’s,” said Rashaad, suddenly perky again.
“Are you okay with that,” Mercedes asked Star.
“Uh huh.”
Mercedes imitated her. “Uh huh? Let’s just go.”
At Claude and Venus’s house, the stepmother/stepson drama started to heat up.
“Dad, where are you?” Cameron called his father from the guest room where Venus was getting the frilly queen-size bed ready for Mattie.
Claude spoke from his mobile, keeping his tone down. “I’m showing a house in Windsor Hills right now. My client is right here. What do you need, son?”
Cameron stepped into the hallway, trying to talk without being heard. “Dad, I asked Venus a simple question about my Spanish and she told me to look it up next time before I asked her. Dad, she always has an attitude.”
“Put her on the phone, son.” Cameron walked back into the room and handed Venus the cordless, standing right beside her, scratching the parts between his cornrows. “Hey, Venus.” Claude excused himself from his clients. “When I’m done with this showing that I’m smack dab in the middle of, I’ll be right home. But do you think you two can get around this without my help?”
Venus looked up at Cameron with a sharp stare and paced a few steps toward the bed. “Claude, I’m sorry that Cam bothered you while you’re working. I don’t mind helping him out, really. But I think he takes advantage of the fact that I’m half Spanish. He gets lazy about studying. Actually, I think this is a take home test and he just keeps coming in here asking me for the answers.”
“I think it’s a big advantage for him to have you around to help. Okay, honey? Please?”
Venus was firm yet she spoke in almost a whisper. “You’ve got to support me on these type of things, Claude.”
“I do. I just want both of you to try.”
“Try. Okay.” Venus hung up and walked over toward Cameron, who glanced down at his textbook. “What do you need to know, Cameron?”
He put his book under his arm and turned to walk out. “Forget it.”
“Cameron, hold on,” she said firmly. He turned toward her. “I know you didn’t go to such extremes to tell on me to my own husband and then you have nerve to act like you don’t want my help after all. What did you need to know?”
Cameron’s eyes met hers in a piercing stare. He opened the book and flipped through the pages with rapidity. “There is one thing I can’t find in here.” He looked her square in the eyes. “How do you say, ‘You’re not my mom,’ in Spanish?”
Venus responded immediately, staring him down. “Usted no es mi madre. How’s that?”
He stared back. “Usted no es mi madre!” He repeated the translated sentence, word for word, with conviction and certainty and authority. She heard the exclamation point at the end of his last word.
Venus was unwavering. “Anything else you need to say?” She waited for his answer.
He returned the look, then broke their stare and closed his book. “No, that just about says it all.”
“Good, Cameron. And don’t forget that your grandmother will be staying with us starting tomorrow night.” Venus turned around to resume her preparations.
“No problemo,” Cameron said, walking back to his room, slamming his door.
Venus continued to make the bed. Under her breath she said, “I am not going to let that boy run me out of here. Anyway, it’s no un problema.”
Mason was running in place, wearing his brown Sean Jean sweat suit as he waited in front of the house as his family pulled into the driveway. Mercedes did end up letting Rashaad drive down the street from the main intersection to the house. Mason walked up to the driver side and leaned in. “I need to go for a run, baby. I’ll be back in an hour or so. You look good behind the wheel of that spaceship, boy,” he said to Rashaad.
Rashaad locked the car door with the remote after they got out. “Dad, we brought the chicken and waffles you like.”
“Keep it warm for me, son. I’ll be right back.” He turned and started to jog.
“Hold up, baby. I can throw on my jogging suit and go with you,” Mercedes suggested with anticipation. “Mason!” Mercedes yelled as he ran on down the street with his headphones to his ears. He waved and disappeared around the curve.
“He’s leaving again?” asked Rashaad, staring toward his dad.
“He’s always going in a different direction from us anyway. What difference does it make?” asked Star. She paused and looked at her mother and then went on into the house, shaking her head from side to side.
Rashaad went through the side gate and started to play with Kailua.
I’m going to go catch up with him, thought Mercedes, rushing upstairs to change her clothes.
Star went out into the backyard and tossed the waffles to Kailua.
“Don’t give him the wings, silly. He’ll choke,” said Rashaad.
“I’m not. I’ll eat those,” she said, taking one in between her teeth and biting the chicken with a frown.
Mercedes hopped in her car. She drove for maybe thirty minutes, but could not find Mason. After a few minutes more, she returned home.
“That was fast,” said Star as her mom walked through the front door.
“I didn’t find him. I don’t know what course he had mapped out, but it wasn’t the usual one, that’s for sure.”
“That’s strange. Maybe he ran to Starbucks. Did you check there?”
“That wouldn’t make sense.” Mercedes placed her keys on the kitchen island.
“But, knowing Daddy…”
“Yes, you’re probably right.”
After dinner, Mason walked into their bedroom with a tall mug of coffee in hand.
“What’s this?” Mercedes asked as she exited the bathroom and he handed it to her.
“Coffee.”
“Oh, Mason.”
“Just for you, baby.” He kissed her forehead.
Mercedes looked delighted. “Wow. Thanks, Mason. That was very nice of you.”
It was time for Mason to begin packing his bags, just before his driver picked him up. He was an expert at packing light. Mercedes sat on the end of the bed watching him do his thing. She sipped on her perfectly prepared coffee and then asked, “Where did you go today?”
“When?”
“When you ran off to jog by yourself.”
“I jogged down the street and around the neighborhood.”
“Did you go through the park?”
“No.”
“Which street did you take?”
Mason paused for a moment, looking perplexed. “Why are you asking me that?”
“Because I went looking for you. I was driving around and couldn’t find you.”
“You went looking for me? Mercedes I simply turned at the corner of… at… Slauson and then down to Chariton. I think. Heck, I don’t know. I never take the same path twice. What’s up with you?”
“What’s up with you?” She sipped her coffee again.
“Mercedes, when I get back we can go joggi
ng together. I just went running alone. I was fired up and ready to get it over with. Is there a problem?”
“No problem. You didn’t hear me say I was coming?”
“Dad, the limo is here,” Star yelled from downstairs.
“No I didn’t. I had on my headphones. Now can we drop this? I’ve got to get going.” Mason yelled, “I’m coming.” He rushed down the stairs and out the door. Mercedes put down the mug and followed behind him.
“I’ll call you guys tonight,” he shouted from where he stood as the driver held open the car door. “It’ll be late by the time I get into Florida. Star, I know your brother ate my take-home plate.”
“Uh huh,” she replied.
“I love you,” he said to his wife and daughter as they waved from the front porch.
Mercedes replied, “Have a nice flight. Be safe.”
“Oh, so no ditto this time?”
“Ditto,” Mercedes said, blowing a kiss his way.
He got inside and the driver closed the door.
Star stood, leaning against the doorway, without saying a word.
“Star, are you mad because your dad ran off to jog without me?”
“Whatever, Mom. You just always let him get away with stuff like that.”
“No, I don’t actually. I already talked to him about it.”
“Yes, but the point is, even though you discuss it, he never changes. I’m never going to let my husband be so selfish.”
“Star, you don’t know what type of boundaries you’re going to have once your married. It all depends on how the relationship is structured and what your individual professions are. Things like that. And you can’t make people do things.”
“Well, I already know I’d never put up with that. For all you know, he has a girlfriend around the corner.”
Mercedes face reeked with impatience. “Star, that’s enough. You’d better watch your mouth, young lady. Sometimes I go with him and sometimes I don’t. Your dad works hard and he simply jogs in the neighborhood to keep in shape, alone or not. Stop pouting.”
Star uncrossed her arms and walked away.
Mercedes was firm. “And head straight to the kitchen to put the dishes in the dishwasher.”
Star was silent, yet she headed for the kitchen.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Mercedes closed the front door as the limousine turned the corner. Star’s sentence repeated in her head. For all you know, he has a girlfriend around the corner. Mercedes reopened the door and sat on the porch in deep thought.
Chapter 8
Claude picked up his mother the next day to get her situated in what he hoped would be her permanent home. Once Mattie got settled into her new room, Claude retired to his bedroom suite.
The elegant, enormous room, decorated with leopard furnishings and cherry red accents, opened up to blend into the fifteen-by-twelve bathroom. No door separated the two rooms, except for the private commode and bidet, and his and hers walk-in closets.
He’d brought Venus a glass of chilled champagne and poured himself a tall glass of cranberry juice and then ran the water in his roman tub with thoughts of unwinding with his wife. He wanted to celebrate the fact that his mother was now living under their roof. He opened the balcony door to their bathroom, looked out and lifted his head toward the dark sky. He enjoyed the feeling of relief.
After taking a few deep breaths, he closed the sliding door behind him and came back inside. “Would you care to join me?” he asked Venus, standing over her as she lay in bed reading.
“I’ll leave you to yourself so you can totally unwind. I’ll be waiting right here,” she replied, momentarily taking off her reading glasses and giving him a peck on the lips as he leaned down toward her.
Claude disrobed and got in the deep Jacuzzi tub. He lay back, thinking about how much he liked to bring out Venus’s wild side in bed.
He kicked back and soaked for a good twenty minutes. As he got out and dried himself off, he looked over at the bed to see that Venus had set the book aside. She lay on top of the brown covers, on her stomach, wearing only a silk teddy. She was watching his every move.
He walked toward her with a black towel around his waist, placing a kiss on her flushed cheek. She sniffed his fragrant chemistry and said, “I love you.” He kissed her again, this time with tongue. Claude stood up to come around and lie on his back while Venus turned to face him. She started to lick his left nipple and made a beeline down to his private parts to bring him pleasure. She kept her hands free to massage him.
No matter what type of day Claude and Venus had while vertical, their horizontal moves seemed to be pretty much in sync, both usually willing to get intimate as if the stresses of their daily lives had no effect.
Claude turned Venus over to lie on her back. He hovered over her and entered her slowly. Claude liked to get her into the “L” position where one leg was bent to the side and her other leg was pointed straight up. The angle of that position always seemed to hit the spot just enough to send Venus’s sounds of ecstasy into repeated revving resonance. Claude then knew it would be his turn to reach his climax.
But Venus was sure he noticed that the lubricating came far and few between lately. This particular night, it did not come at all. Maybe Claude was too into the moment to notice that Venus was totally dry. As he moved her leg back even farther, she caught a faint glimpse of something, or someone, lying on their leopard lounge chair to the left of their black granite poster bed. Venus closed her eyes and refocused, realizing the image was even clearer. Venus felt Claude’s pounding and repeated penetration hitting her very soul. She could hear him sigh, but all was a blur, all except the sultry, frozen image of her best friend, Fatima, watching them make love. Venus’s breathing pattern increased and she shut her lids until it was over. Before she could even fake her usual orgasm, Claude released inside of her. She opened her eyes and the image was gone. Venus lay still while he turned over and collapsed.
Thirty minutes later, Venus moaned in her sleep, tossing her head back and forth, but Claude was too knocked out to notice. Venus jumped straight up in the bed and threw her eyes open as if in horror. Sweat beaded from her forehead. Her honey-colored hair was soaking wet. She placed her fisted hands deep into the mattress, almost in anger. Venus glanced over at Claude as he lay on his stomach. His face was toward hers as she watched him sleep. Venus closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling a jittering motion in her stomach. She started to gag and swallow at the same time. The swallowing reflex caused her to gag again, and she sprang to her feet, running into the bathroom where she stood over the ebony commode and threw up.
She fell to her knees, waiting for the next violent expulsion. But it never came. Venus sat on the gray tile floor with her back to the wall, wiping her mouth with tissue paper.
What did I do? she asked herself. Why in the hell did I agree to this?
The night before Mason was set to come home, he sat in his hotel room after losing the tournament in Florida. A young, unknown golfer won at twelve under par. Mason felt like he’d totally lost his focus. He was disappointed in himself. Did he use the right club? he wondered. Would that have made a difference on the seventh hole? He switched his attention from his golf bag to the minibar. He looked around for his room key. Next to his key was the hotel phone. He made a phone call instead.
“What are you wearing?” he asked.
“That’s so corny.”
“No, really, I want to know.”
“All right, I’m wearing a white baby doll.”
“Describe it,” Mason prompted, lifting his rear to make room for him to pull his gray boxers down to his knees.
“It’s a sheer, short, sexy number.”
Mason used his right hand to stroke his stiffened wand. “What are you wearing under it?”
“Nothing,” she whispered.
“Do you like the way you look in it?”
“Yes.”
“Wha
t do you think I would do if I saw you in it?”
“You would probably start kissing my hard, pink nipples through the sheer lace fabric.”
“And flick your nipple with my tongue.”
“Yes, and then you’d pull my arm through the sleeve so you could taste my breasts. First one sleeve and then the other.”
“And then?” Mason asked with his eyes closed.
“And then you’d stand me up to let my nightgown fall to the floor and you’d stand back and stare at my firm, trim body while I’d watch your nature rise through your shorts. You’d take them off, standing at attention at the sight of me, just waiting to get in my body.”
His hand stroke quickened. “Oh yes, and then.”
“And then I would raise my right arm upward to the ceiling, rubbing my own breasts as you approached. You know how much I like it when you lick my armpit, right?”
“I know that drives you crazy.”
“And then you would insert three fingers inside of me just to see if the licking under my arm was working. I’d get so hot that I’d beg you to lay me down on my back and try your best to insert your entire hand inside of me until we were only able to see your wrist as you stroked me with your fist.”
Mason had to slow himself down. He took a deep breath and then resumed. “Oh, now you’re talking. When do I get to put my dick inside of you?”
“When I remove your hand and lick my own juices from your fingers, only to beg you to turn me over and enter me from behind.”
“Then I can put it in?”
“Only after you kiss my back, gently with your hot tongue and then kiss the nape of my neck with your thick, sexy lips. I’d poke my rear end toward you and slowly raise my leg to assist your entry.”
He felt sweat building over his eyebrows. “Do I get to push into you while I’m up against your round ass?”
“Yes, you’d find your way into my body, feeling the thrust of my swollen ass bumping up against your stomach and thighs. You’d push yourself deeper and deeper while I grab hold of the pillow with one hand, bracing myself along the edge of the bed to secure my place.”
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