Yes, they all resided on the same planet, but they lived in different worlds. The black world and the white world, at times, were not the same. For as long as she could remember, she’d lived in a white world, at first at her parents’ choosing, and then at her own. That is, until she reached Atlanta. She could have found the same experience in Chicago, but she had needed to flee the familiar.
She carried two beautiful cultures within her, in her bones, so why not experience them both? Growing up she learned more about what it meant to be Irish than she did African-American. When her mother always avoided the subject, so Ashlyn never pushed her. But she did resent the fact that she was forced too chose.
Ashlyn heard her phone ring, but she ignored it. She would have to place her phone on vibrate if she didn’t want to embarrass herself in public. The phone rang for a second time. She knew it was Kevin. Let him wait, she told herself. He deserved it, after his obnoxious behavior.
Someone was pounding on her hotel door and blatantly ignoring the obvious meaning of her not answering.
“Ashlyn, I know you’re in there, so you might as well open the door. I could stand here all day. However, you and I know if the patrons of this fine hotel see me banging at your door and yelling, they’re going to call security and the police are going to care less about how many paintings I’ve sold.”
Ashlyn’s brain was still too sluggish to make a quick decision. How had she gotten herself into this situation? She was cowering under her blankets, wishing she were invisible. She wasn’t ready to face him yet, not with her hair standing straight up. He would probably look as flawless as usual.
“I’m so sorry,” he pleaded, offering a genuine apology. “Please open the door. Oh, hell, an elderly lady just cracked her door open to see what the commotion was.” Kevin’s voice carried the type of note black men used when they knew the police were on the way. “She closed it really quickly after she saw me. It’s only a matter of minutes before security shows up. Are you going to bail me out for disturbing the peace?”
Ashlyn ran to the door and flung it open. “Get in here right now.”
Kevin stood frozen for a second and looked his fill. As his eyes moved over her repeatedly, he believed he must have done something noble in a previous life to merit such a sight. Kevin slammed the door closed. “You do realize you’re naked?”
Ashlyn looked down at herself and turned to the full-length mirror, not believing what she saw. Not only was she naked, but her hair was even messier then before. She looked like Ronald McDonald. She had sweated out the straightening process so her curls were reigning supreme. She nosed-dived into the bed, covering up as much as possible, praying she resembled a mummy. She couldn’t seem to stop embarrassing herself. When would the madness end?
Kevin lay down beside her. “I don’t know how to thank you.” Laughter in his voice.
“I see nothing funny.”
“You’re right, it’s not funny. But either I laugh or I slip my hands beneath the sheets and try to feel what I just saw.” His voice was suddenly serious.
“What are you doing here?”
“Why have you avoided my calls for four days?” Kevin asked.
“I haven’t avoided your calls. I’ve just been really busy,” Ashlyn answered.
“Doing what? You don’t know anyone in the city.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I know two other people in the city. And even if I didn’t know a soul, I know how to entertain myself,” Ashlyn informed him with fire in her voice.
“Who are the two other people? And could you please at least uncover your head? I would like to attach a face to the voice.” Kevin realized that it was jealousy he felt. What other people had she been spending time with? He’d assumed she came back to see him, to get to know him. He felt like an ass, which was an unfamiliar sensation. His father had told him his arrogance would land him in trouble.
“I know your brother Aaron and your best friend Vladimir.” The night of Kevin’s showing she and Vlad had exchanged numbers, and she’d gotten Aaron’s number as well.
Ashlyn and Kevin began to play tug of war with the bedding. She’d known his reaction would be severe. She laughed, trying to keep herself covered. “Wait! I’ll tell you, if you stop.”
“Let me get this right. For the past four days you’ve been spending time with Aaron and Vlad? They never told me this, and I spoke to both of them. They both sat and listened to me complain about not being able to get in contact with you!”
“I asked them not to tell you.” Secretly she wished one of them had let it slip. If so, maybe she wouldn’t be suffering a mega-hangover now. “You would have never understood,” Ashlyn informed him with faux innocence.
“You’re right about that, I don’t understand. What did you all do?”
“Kevin, you have to know it was innocent and all in fun.”
“What did you all do?” Kevin wanted an answer to his question.
“Well, Aaron and I went to a Chrisette Michele and The Roots concert. I’d brought the tickets for us, but you decided to live up to some teen boy fantasy.” Ashlyn sat up, tucking the bedding around her, under her arms. “I didn’t want to go alone, so I called Aaron, and he said he would love to go.
“Afterwards he talked me into going to an after-party…which I still haven’t recovered from. I dropped him off at his place and took the cab back here. I’ve wanted to see Chrisette Michele live for a while now, and I assumed you felt the same way about The Roots. They’re from Philly, right?” Ashlyn’s eyes bore into his, daring him to continue his anger.
“What about you and Vlad?” He posed his question quietly.
“We went to a lecture on Tolstoy,” she said with a smirk, “and afterwards we went to a nightclub. The place was bizarre. Everyone wore black and the music got better the more I drank. I’ve never seen so many flashing red lights. I met some pretty interesting people, though, artists, writers, and actors. They all attempted to be deep and mysterious. How is it possible for the two of you to be friends?”
“College makes strange bedfellows.”
“I have no idea why I asked that. My best friend and I are as different as night and day.”
“Did Vlad badger you with the idea of Tolstoy being the greatest writer of any generation?” Kevin asked.
“Yes, he did, but only after I mentioned Zora Neale Hurston. I thought Vlad would pop a blood vessel,” Ashlyn answered, remembering the debate all too well. “My argument is every generation has phenomenal standouts. So how can you pinpoint just one?”
“What about the other two days?” Kevin knew he was behaving irrationally.
“Kevin, I’m not subject to you. What I do with my time is my choice.” She couldn’t believe the way he questioned her. Why did everyone believe her incapable of handling her own life? Did she come across as that naïve?
“You’re right, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t seem to control my actions when I am around you. We seem to bring out the dominance in each other.” Kevin gazed at her, perplexed.
“I agree with that, even though I have no idea why.”
“Spend the day with me? Let’s go for a ride to the ocean. We can take the Cape May Ferry across to Lewes, Delaware.” Kevin touched her face, drawing circles around her chin.
“You have to leave so I can get dressed.”
“Do you really want me to leave?” He kept up the circling of her chin. “Aren’t we past that now?”
“Yes, we are past that point, but I think we both need to admit that we’re in a place neither of us has ever been.” Her eyes met his, wishing that he would agree.
“I readily admit that.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad it’s in the open now, no more dancing around the issue. Lets just go from here and enjoy the time we have together.
“Get dressed, because I don’t know how much longer I can promise to stay in my clothes.” Kevin kissed the tip of her nose. “Let me order you some coffee, since you insist
on acting like a frat boy on an all-night binge.” He leaned over her, causing her to lie down, while he spoke to room service on the phone. The pressure of him hovering over her made her close her eyes and unconsciously incline her pelvis an inch or so.
“Stop that or we’ll never leave this room,” Kevin said.
He rose and gently tugged the bedding from her fingers, pulling it slowly down to reveal her. Ashlyn didn’t put up a fight. She wanted him to see her in the daylight. She placed her arms behind her head wondering if he were a breast man. She thrust her chest out a little more, asking, “Do you find me lacking? I’m not as well endowed at the top.” She suddenly felt unsure.
“You don’t have to ask. I find your breasts beautifully ripe, a confection. Especially your nipples…so shockingly pale. Just my gazing makes them pebble…as if a breeze has blown across them. Your flat tummy and flaring hips gets my attention every time. The little triangle of red hair makes me want to peak beneath and see if you taste as good as you look. Your long legs are well defined, and they seem to stretch for miles. I love the graceful arch of your feet and the sexy pink polish gracing your nails.
“No, Ashlyn, I don’t find you lacking.” His words were so sincere they caused her to crawl to her knees and show him her back.
“What about now?” she asked.
“You’re the stuff of dreams, a male fantasy, but you have to know that.” Kevin was quickly losing control.
“What’s the fascination with my bottom?” Ashlyn asked, gazing at him over her shoulder, her knees digging into the mattress.
“Do you really need to ask?” His temperament was changing. “I think you should take a shower and stop torturing me.” Kevin smacked her bottom, sending her scurrying to the bathroom. He lay face down in the middle of the bed, taking gasping breaths. Kevin truly believed she was trying to kill him, or at least cause permanent damage.
* * *
A day truly too gorgeous to waste greeted Ashlyn as she walked hand in hand with Kevin to the parking garage. The brilliant blue sky was dotted with white puffy clouds and a gentle breeze hummed in her ears. After one pot of coffee, she was ready to face the day. He’d told her to wear comfy clothes and let her curls reign supreme. They were extra springy after drying in the wind and sun. She played with them, running fingers from root to crown. She wore a pair of black leggings and an off-the-shoulder, oversized gray shirt. Ashlyn completed the comfy look with her favorite low-top Chuck Taylors. Her face was devoid of make-up, except for the gloss on her lips.
The shadowed garage was cool. Her eyes were still adjusting to the suddenly darker space when Kevin stopped and slid money to a young man for watching his bike. “You’re not very trusting.”
“I’ve lived here most of my life and I know some things should never be left to chance,” Kevin answered. “Do you trust me?”
“Trust you with what?” she asked.
“To know what I’m doing,” he laughed, “and to get us there safely.”
She looked at the motorcycle before her. “You expect me to ride on the back of this with you at the helm?” she asked, stifling a shiver that threatened to run down her frame. The prospect was enticing. Nothing seemed sexier than whizzing through traffic with her hands hugging his midriff.
“Yes. I also expect you to enjoy it.”
“I’ve ridden on the back of a lot of scooters, especially in Asia, but never a motorcycle,” Ashlyn informed him.
“Do I look like a scooter type of dude?” Kevin asked.
Ashlyn perused his collarless blue shirt, frayed jeans, and square-toed black boots. “You look like the type of man who not only can handle this bike, but can also deal with me on the back of it.”
He leaned over his bike and kissed her. Ashlyn grazed her fingers along his day beard. The look aged him. Just when she thought he couldn’t get anymore irresistible, he surprised her. He hugged her as closed as he possibly could, relieved she had not fled to Atlanta.
“Am I driving or are you?” Ashlyn asked.
“I should have known you would know how. Who taught you?” Kevin asked.
“My father taught me when I was sixteen, but I’ve never ridden anything as powerful as this, just my dad’s twenty-year-old bike. Every spring he spends his time off from the pub tinkering with it. He should have bought a new bike ages ago, but he likes having it around.”
It was the first time she referred to her family, and Kevin saw it as an opening, so he asked more questions about her family. “Your dad works at a pub?”
“My dad’s family owns a pub, a great neighborhood place with the same regulars. It’s been in the family for three generations. My great-grandfather started it when he moved here from Limerick, Ireland.” The last part she said with a slight lilt to her voice. She wanted to see how he would react. He just kissed the end of her nose.
Kevin tilted her face up to his. “Thank you for sharing. I realize how difficult it can be.”
Ashlyn realized he was referring to his mother. They were both very proud of their parentage, but they lived in a world where it was safer to hide those people. It was safer for Kevin to hide the fact that his mother was born Muslim and from Northern Africa, and it was less complicated when Ashlyn played down her white father and her black mother. When people found out that’s all they wanted to discuss.
Kevin handed her a helmet. “I need you to wear this.” The helmet was mostly black like the bike, but had streaks of sliver and a purplish-blue color.
“Did you paint this helmet?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“A slight hunch. This bike is beautiful, very sleek. Lately I’ve seen so many bikes overdone. I like the way the mechanics are exposed; the chrome and black make a striking contrast.” Ashlyn adjusted the helmet, watching as he did the same with a metallic silver helmet.
He spoke to her through the Bluetooth communication devices within the helmets. “Are you ready?”
Kevin climbed on first, bracing his feet so she could climb on. He felt her settling and wrapping her arms around his waist as he started the engine. The vibration of the bike thrilled her.
Ashlyn heard his voice within the close confines of the helmet. “I’m glad you came.”
“So am I, even though I made my decision at the last minute.”
“Why, especially if this is where you want to be?” Kevin eased out of the parking garage and turned onto the street. She was never one to like the spotlight, but that’s how she felt riding on the back of his bike. She tried to adjust.
“This trip was very spontaneous, and I’m not known for spontaneity,” Ashlyn honestly told him.
“I can tell by the way your arms are squeezing me. Relax and enjoy the ride.”
“How can you tolerate the attention? With my line of work I fade into the background, but with you it’s impossible,” Ashlyn said.
“Any way I answer that question will come across as arrogant.”
“And you feel as if you’re not arrogant?” she teased.
Kevin could hear the laughter in her voice. “I wouldn’t call it arrogance, just a healthy does of self-assurance. If I lost an ounce, I would never show any of my work.”
“Have you ever faced rejection?” Ashlyn asked.
“Of course I have, but I can’t let that deter me. It’s a miracle I’ve even made it this far.”
“Why do you say that?”
“From an early age, people have told me how talented I was, so by the time I was sixteen, my ego was colossal.” Kevin accelerated onto the interstate, stopping his story for a moment because traffic was heavy. Kevin was headed toward the ferry in Cape May, New Jersey. The ferry would take them to the beach in Lewes, Delaware.
Ashlyn enjoyed the ride, loosening her arms slightly. She trusted that he would not suddenly exhibit an overabundance of testosterone and push the speed limit, darting in and out of traffic.
Ashlyn felt part of a mass movement of people, the destination relatively the same. On such a hot
day, people sought water. Every summer when she was a child, and even now, her parents traveled to Cape Cod, where they owned a two-story clapboard house right along the shore. Each summer from the time she was a baby they’d climbed into the family Volvo station wagon and head east. They would stay from June to July, basking in the sun. Her mother would sit in her favorite reclining beach chair reading a novel and her father would walk the beach digging for clams. Her father sucked up the sun, while her mother avoided it, hats and umbrellas constantly on hand.
Her mother would hide the covers of the books she read, calling them her summer reading. Ashlyn would sneak and bend back the creased covers, the images sending her mind into a whirl. The couples would heatedly embrace. The heroine’s clothing would be hanging from one shoulder, her hair flowing down her back, and her face in a perpetual state of ecstasy. The hero was shirtless, with his lower half clad in tight-fitting breeches and Hessian boots.
She wondered why her very conventional mother spent her summers reading such darkly gothic, erotic literature. Her father teased her mother incessantly over her chosen reading material. They were both romantics at heart, shutting out the entire world when they were together. Ashlyn desired the same seemingly endless summer vacations. When the weather had turned bitterly cold, those preciously stored memories had sustained her until the next summer.
Her mother’s summers were always free, because she was a teacher, and her father always took his time off during the spring and summer. As a child, Ashlyn could usually predict every decision her mother ever made, at least until they returned home one day in July and her mother informed her that she would be teaching at a new school in the city. It was on the south side of Chicago, a far cry from the prestigious all-girl academy that Ashlyn attended. Ashlyn never questioned why, just accepted the change. Ashlyn did ask if she too could make the change, but her mother and father had vehemently denied her. Her life returned to its ceaseless routine, but a nagging question began to fester in the back of her brain. Why could her mother make the change, but not Ashlyn? Why did they make her stay at an all white school, while her mother went to teach at an inner city, predominately black school?
Painted Passion Page 7