MadameFrankie
Page 14
“I love you both, Jazz. I want you both.”
“But you want us both at the same time.”
“And why not?”
“I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“Neither have I.”
“Then why?”
“I’ve never been in love with two men at the same time before. I’ve never wanted to be with two men at the same time before. There’s a first time for everything.”
“There are some firsts I’m not ready for.”
“Is being with a man one of them?”
Jazz laughed softly, looking away.
“What’s so funny?”
“Frankie, let me tell you something. My ex is a man.”
“What?” Her eyes widened with baffled astonishment.
“I’m bi, Frankie.”
“You…you never told me.”
“You never asked.”
She stood up and slowly walked around the piano. Jazz watched her carefully as she put her hands on her hips, trying to sort it out. Now it was her turn to laugh.
“Well…this…this is very interesting,” she then said.
“Does it bother you?”
“I don’t know. No, I guess. I mean, well, Edgar is bi.”
“Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of.”
“What?”
“When I saw him last night on El Malecón, on my way over here to see you, something happened inside me. I had never seen such an attractive and desirous man in my life. When he smiled at me, it nearly took my breath away. I was feeling things about him I thought I could only feel for you. I’ve never been in love with two people at the same time. I’m a hopeless romantic, Frankie. When I make love to someone, I fall in love. Making love to you and another man, I could easily fall in love with him. And now, seeing Edgar, knowing he was the man I saw last night. It would be very difficult for me to…that’s what I’m afraid of. Now, more so than ever.”
“And you think that would make you fall out of love with me?”
“I don’t know.”
“There’s only one way to find out, Jazz.”
“I don’t know, Frankie.”
“He’s ready. I’m ready. Are you ready?”
“I just don’t know if I could handle it.”
“I’ll tell you what. Edgar and I are getting together tonight in my apartment. Go back to your hotel. Think about it. If you decide you can handle it, come by around eight. If not, I’ll understand if you catch your flight back home.”
She went to him. She bent down and gently kissed him on the lips.
“Thank you, Frankie,” he said, standing. They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment.
“Go,” Frankie finally said. He nodded, turned and walked away.
As he passed through the lobby, he caught sight of Edgar again and it happened again. His heart fluttered. He could hardly breathe.
“I hope that we shall see you later,” Edgar said, smiling that irresistible smile.
“Adios, Edgar,” Jazz fumbled, not able to look at him anymore. He walked past him and out the lobby door.
He had to go and pack.
Chapter Twenty-Three
At 8:30 p.m. Frankie and Edgar knew. Jazz was no doubt headed back to the States. How ironic. The previous night, Emmanuel had given Edgar an ultimatum. Choose between him and Frankie. Edgar couldn’t do that, so Emmanuel made the choice for him.
But there was no melancholy in Frankie’s apartment that night. The sound of soft rhythmic music filled the living room as Frankie and Edgar danced the bachata in each other’s arms. Their lives and their love would go on.
Of course each of them still had bittersweet memories of their respective exes. And the speculations of what could have been were unfulfilled fantasies they had both looked forward to.
Still they understood, all things in their time.
But oh, how right Jazz was about Edgar. How handsome he was staring into Frankie’s eyes, his hands on her hips, guiding her as they danced. How romantic. How sexy. Years had not diminished her desire for her Latin lover. Nor had time taken its toll on Edgar’s perennial lust for his beautiful American lady.
And it wasn’t just the physical, the carnal that united them. They were kindred spirits. They were adventurous souls unafraid of their feelings, fearless in the face of emotional explorations, gleeful gluttons of life.
“Are our spirits too free?” Frankie whimsically wondered out loud as he twirled her ever so gracefully.
“For some? Sí. For us? No, mi amore.”
As the song came to an end, he dipped her elegantly, then brought her back up to him and kissed her gently on the lips.
“You know, we should celebrate our free spirits,” he said softly as he nibbled on her neck.
“You are so right, Edgar,” she whispered, swooning at his attentiveness. “I’ll call down to the bar and have Marcel bring up a bottle of champagne.”
“That sounds wonderful,” he said, his arms now around her waist, pressing her into his heated loins. “And after we have finished the champagne, we will top the evening off with best lovemaking of our lives.”
“Absolutely,” she promised.
He played with the outline of her breasts beneath her blouse as she picked up the phone and dialed.
“¡Hola!” Héctor answered.
“Hola, Héctor. ¿Por favor haga Marcel subir una botella de champán?”
“En seguida, Frankie.”
“Gracias, Héctor.”
She hung up the phone and smiled. He kissed her smile, long and juicily.
“Oh Edgar, what would I do without you?” she begged with a sigh, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“What will you do without Jazz?” he asked teasingly, pecking her gently on the nose.
“Do without I suppose. If you want to have everything that you want, you have to stop wanting the things you can’t have. I will just have to stop wanting him.”
“Can you?”
She had to seriously think about that. Was she that strong?
“Only time will tell,” she huffed bravely. “But in the meantime, I have you and that is wonderful.”
“It is wonderful that we have each other, Frankie.”
“Will you miss Emmanuel?”
“Yes. But probably no more or no less than you will miss Jazz.”
The music started up again, slowly, sensually, rhythmically. It beckoned them and they answered. They danced in each other’s arms again. This time closer, comforting, reassuringly. They danced that way in silence. Frankie laid her head on Edgar’s chest. Edgar savored the whiff of her hair and stared out the open window.
There was a knock on the door.
“Ah. Marcel with the champagne,” Frankie said in a whisper. She headed slowly toward the door. Edgar smiled admiringly at her lovely legs, her sumptuous behind, her soft and sparkling hair.
She reached the door and opened it.
She held her breath at the sight of him. Edgar smiled at him unsurprised.
“Hi,” he said, standing in the doorway.
“Jazz,” Frankie said, staring in his eyes. “Please, come in.”
“Thank you,” he said, stepping in nervously. “I’m…I’m sorry I’m late.”
“You’re never too late,” Frankie said, shutting the door behind him.
“Hola, mi amigo,” Edgar said, approaching him, extending his hand.
“Hola, Edgar.” Jazz took his hand and shook it. They didn’t immediately let go. Neither did their eyes. Frankie looked on approvingly.
There was another knock at the door. She answered it. It was Marcel with the champagne, appropriately iced in a silver cooler.
“Gracias, Marcel,” she said graciously, taking the cooler from the handsome young man.
“De nada,” he said knowingly, the door shutting before him.
Frankie smiled as she turned to see Jazz and Edgar still staring in each other’s eyes. It was just as she had dreamed. She walked over to them,
looked from one to the other. And they looked at her, lovingly, gratefully.
“Gentlemen, my two loves,” she said ever so softly, holding the silver cooler of champagne in her arms as if it were a newborn babe. “Let the party begin.”
The End
About Stanley Bennett Clay
Stanley Bennett Clay is an award-winning novelist, playwright, actor and filmmaker. He received three NAACP Theatre Awards and three Drama-logue Awards for writing, directing and co-producing the stage play “Ritual.” He made his film writing and directing debut with the feature film adaptation, starring Clarence Williams III and Denise Nicholas. The film received the Jury Award at the Pan African Film Festival.
He is the author of three previously published novels, a novella, and, as the former Editor-In-Chief of Black Beat magazine, hundreds of feature stories, book and film reviews, and celebrity interviews.
Stanley welcomes comments from readers. You can find his email address on his author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Stanley Bennett Clay
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Ellora’s Cave Publishing
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Madame Frankie
ISBN 9781419942938
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Madame Frankie Copyright © 2014 Stanley Bennett Clay
Edited by Victoria Reese
Cover design by Dar Albert
Cover photography by Fyle/fotolia.com, hotdamnstock.com
Electronic book publication January 2014
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