Playing the Hand You're Dealt

by Trice Hickman

  “It took us nearly six hours to pack this truck last night,” Bradley said as he held the other end of the sofa we moved into the living room. His comment answered one of my questions. He had been in town since at least yesterday.

  We lifted the heavy furniture in a steady stream, as though we were working on an assembly line. The ninety-degree temperature made our task hard, and sweat poured off us as if we’d run through a rain shower. I was glad I worked out every day; if I didn’t, I’d be in serious trouble. I looked at the young bloods around me and felt good knowing that I could hold my own. As a matter of fact, my arms were more cut and my body was more defined than any of them, except for Bradley.

  We had unloaded over half the truck when we decided to take a lunch break. Gerti came by and dropped off sandwiches, chips, cookies, and a bottle of champagne that Brenda had sent over as a housewarming gift. Brenda was in Manhattan this weekend with her sister. She claimed she wanted to buy gifts for Sam and Emily’s party next weekend and that she could only find what she needed in the Big Apple. She could have easily found what she wanted right here in DC. She was really in New York to shop for herself.

  After we started eating, a calm hush fell over the room. Everyone seemed to mellow out and relax, thanks to the good food that Gerti had supplied. I was probably the only person who was still uncomfortable. I wasn’t in the frame of mind to eat or socialize. Not after talking with Bradley.

  While we were moving furniture, I’d asked him questions to get a better handle on the extent of his involvement with Emily. What I learned caused a small rise in my blood pressure. He flew into town yesterday afternoon and was staying with relatives who lived in the city. It was clear to me that this guy had no intention of remaining “just friends” with Emily.

  I also learned that he and Emily maintained regular communication. He said he hoped that being in her new house would help her to relax because she had been going through a stressful time with two kids in her class. He even knew the names of some of her neighbors and coworkers. That kind of information came from nightly conversations on the phone, not a few hours of chitchat while packing a U–Haul late at night.

  It was nearly five o’clock by the time we unloaded the last box from the truck. Ruben and Roger called it a day, and shortly after that, Jason took Tyler back to his hotel. Emily and Sam started unpacking the boxes downstairs while Tyme, Bradley, and I set up the furniture in Emily’s second-floor rooms. She had very nice belongings, some of which had been in her home in Atlanta, but most of which she bought shortly before moving here. I knew this because I overheard her tell Sam that she wanted new things for her new life.

  A short time later, Sam and Tyme announced they were leaving, and from the expression on their faces, I knew they were going their separate ways. A few minutes later, Bradley left, too. He had asked Emily out to dinner with him and his family, but she declined, citing all the unpacking she still needed to do. I volunteered to stay and finish setting up the furniture in her home office upstairs. That left only the two of us. Finally, we were alone.

  It was dark when I finished my task. The entire time I worked, I could hear Emily downstairs, ripping boxes open and moving things around.When I came down I was beat. I stood in her living room and surveyed the space. It was the only room that was completely set up. She’d even put pictures on her mantel.

  “You must be worn out,” she said.

  “Yeah, and I bet you are, too.”

  “A little, but there’s still so much work to do.”

  “Can I help with anything?” Even though I was tired as hell, I wanted her to say yes.

  “No, I can handle it from here. I know you’re ready to get home so you can relax.”

  I wiped the sweat from my forehead. “As a matter of fact, I think I’ll take a little breather before I get going, if you don’t mind?”

  “Of course not.” She smiled.

  I started to feel the heat that always rose between us when we were in the same room. I had stolen awkward glimpses of her all day, but now that we were alone I could take in her full view. She wore a blue T-shirt and denim shorts, the same ones she had worn the night she arrived in town. She did wonders for denim.

  Emily looked around the room as she always did when she was nervous. I realized I was staring too hard, so I averted my eyes. “I’ll sit on this,” I said, moving a heavy box from the corner. “I don’t want to ruin your nice new furniture.”

  “Excuse me,” she said, then disappeared into the kitchen.

  I watched her shapely brown thighs and perfectly round behind move like slow-motion footage as she walked out of the room. A minute later she returned with two glasses of lemonade. She pulled up a crate and joined me, surprising me by sitting so close I could touch her.

  “Thanks,” I said, accepting the ice-cold drink. “When did you have time to make lemonade?”

  “When I poured it from the Minute Maid carton,” she teased.

  I laughed, and a warm comfort surrounded us. For the next hour we talked with more ease than we ever had in all the years I’d known her. I discovered that Emily was hilarious. She had a wonderful sense of humor. She was also witty and quick with a comeback.

  She sat her glass down on the floor and put her hands on her knees. “Ed, thanks again for helping out today. I know you’re busy with the trial and you could’ve spent the day preparing for the week ahead instead of breaking your back lifting furniture.”

  “The trial is over. The defense offered us a settlement yesterday.”

  “Really!” she said in an excited voice. She was genuinely happy for me.

  “Yes, and my client is getting more than we originally asked for.”

  “That’s great!”This time she clapped her hands.

  “Thanks.” I nodded. I put my glass down next to hers. “But even if the trial was still going on, it wouldn’t have stopped me from being here today. Nothing could stop me from doing what I can to help you.” I tried to look into her eyes, but she avoided mine, so I cleared my throat and plunged forward into new territory. “Bradley seems like a good guy.” I said it because I wanted to know how she felt about him, but also because it was true. Emily deserved the best, and even if it couldn’t be me, I wanted her to be happy, despite my jealousy.

  “Yes, he’s a very good man. I told him that he didn’t have to make a trip here to help me move. But he surprised me by showing up yesterday. He’s a good friend.”

  “He wants to be more than just your friend, you know that don’t you?”

  She fidgeted and then stood to her feet. “Wow, I can’t believe how late it is. I’m really beat. Um, I think I’m going to call it a night.”

  I could’ve let the issue go and beat around the bush like we always did, but tonight I felt compelled to stop the denial. Our intimate conversation gave me the license to go further. I rose to my feet next to her. “Why are you avoiding my question?”

  “Because I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s complicated.”

  “Are you in love with him?”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Ed, I’m not trying to be rude, but I think you should leave now.”

  “Why?”

  She raised her brow and craned her neck like only a black woman could. “Because I said so. And the last time I checked, Emily Eloise Snow was the name on the deed to this house.”

  The minute the words came out of her sweet mouth we both started laughing. “Oh, so now you’re breakin’ bad, layin’ down the law and kickin’ brothers out!” I laughed.

  “And I’m gettin’ numbers and takin’ names.”

  We rolled for a few minutes before we finally calmed our laughter. “Emily,” I said in a soft, low tone, “I’m sorry if I was pushy. I only asked because I care about you.”

  She looked down at her feet, then lifted her gaze to meet my eyes. “I know.”

  We stood in silence for a minute. The heat between us
reappeared, and this time I agreed with her, I needed to leave—before something happened. She walked me to the door and we said an awkward good-bye before I headed to my truck.

  When I walked through the back door and into the kitchen, I found Gerti standing by the sink, taking food out of the refrigerator.

  “I hope you don’t feel as bad as you look,” she said as she inspected me.

  “Worse.” I nodded, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

  “Here, eat this.” Gerti sat a small salad loaded with veggies and topped with chicken in front of me.

  I hadn’t eaten much today because Bradley’s presence had stolen my appetite. But now it was back with a vengeance. I ate my delicious salad while Gerti went about gathering spices out of the cabinet and more food from the refrigerator. She was preparing a meal for tomorrow. I had nearly cleaned my plate when she turned to me and said, “You need to take a long soak in the tub to ease those bones.”

  “That’s exactly what I intend to do, if I can make it up the stairs,” I half joked.

  “Lord have mercy. The ego of men. This is what you get for doing all that bending and lifting, trying to act like you’re twenty-one,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll run and get you some Epsom salt for your bath.”

  I had to smile because she was right. “Thanks, Gerti.”

  A minute after she left, Sam walked through the door and came into the kitchen wearing a big smile. She told me that she and Tyler were going to give their relationship another try. I was happy for my daughter because Tyler was forthright, principled, and above all, he had a good heart. I was enjoying our conversation until she told me that Bradley was going over to Emily’s house tomorrow to help her finish settling in. It was news that I definitely didn’t want to hear.

  Sam went on to say there was a chance that Emily and Bradley might get back together. I felt a stab in my stomach, and she could see that there was something wrong with me, something that went beyond tired, achy muscles. She was about to ask, when Gerti returned with the salt for my bath, saving me from having to lie to my daughter. I made my exit so I could be alone to think.

  I went to my study and took only a quick sip of brandy before heading upstairs for a long soak in the tub. I submerged myself in the deluxe Jacuzzi and turned on the power jets. The pressure felt good and was just what my tired body needed. After I managed to pull myself up out of the water, which had turned lukewarm, I toweled off and literally crawled over to my bed. Every inch of my body ached. Even my toenails hurt. My grandmother used to say that everybody wants to live a long time, but nobody wants to get old. She knew what she was talking about. Getting old was a bitch. I was in damn good shape for a fifty-four-year-old man, but no matter how many hours of cardio and strength training I did, Mother Nature had her own set of rules.

  It dawned on me as I lay in my king-sized bed that I didn’t miss Brenda’s presence in it. But I also didn’t want to be alone. What I wanted at the moment was to lie beside Emily. And I meant that—literally. I just wanted to lie beside her because God knows I couldn’t do anything else. Then a heavy thought crossed my mind. I had fantasized about making love to Emily a million times, but the pain in my body suddenly made me aware that I might not be up to the challenge.

  I crawled out of bed with the speed equivalent to a turtle and limped over to the full-length mirror in my walk-in closet. I pulled off my T-shirt and boxers and examined my naked body. I looked good, and I had plenty of equipment to get the job done. But the reality was that I didn’t have much of a sex life. The only time I even got an erection anymore was when I thought about Emily. Brenda and I had sex once a quarter. It had been that way for years, and it was always routine.Vanilla sex was what I called it. I had resigned myself to the situation and let my career fill the void.

  Damn, even if I did get the chance to make love to Emily, I wasn’t sure that I could keep up with her. I remembered the way she whipped around today—bending, lunging, lifting; she was in great shape.

  This was the first time in my life that I had ever felt inadequate about anything. I felt like an old fool. I shook my head as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was tired as hell, and I was getting more tired by the minute just thinking about the energy it would require to have sex. I had barely made it out of the bathtub, so what in the hell made me think that I could handle a night of lovemaking with a young, active woman like Emily?

  I put my boxers and T-shirt back on, trudged over to the medicine cabinet, and swallowed two ibuprofen.When I finally reached the bed again I sank down onto the pillow-top mattress and it felt like heaven. I lay flat on my back, closed my eyes, and allowed visions of Emily to enter my head. I could see myself kissing her inviting lips, rubbing her soft skin, caressing her smooth thighs, and making passionate love to her. I got hard just thinking about her, and relieved myself with a hand job. After that, my worries went away.

  The mind’s a powerful thing. I had made the mistake of letting my current state of exhaustion tackle me with unfounded fear. I had always been a good lover, and I knew how to take care of a woman. I was completely confident that when the time came, I would please Emily in every way. I was going to make sure she felt the pleasure I’d been waiting to give her for the past eleven years.

  Chapter 10

  Brenda . . .

  You Could Be a Girl’s Best Friend

  “What’s taking so long!” Brenda huffed into the phone. She was on the line with the Four Seasons Hotel’s room service manager, giving him a piece of her mind. “I placed my order an hour ago and I’m still waiting to be served. I expect better from a five-star hotel.”

  Brenda stood at the window with the phone to her ear, looking down at the people walking forty stories below. “This is completely unacceptable and far below the standards I’m used to. Maybe I should check out and take my business to the Waldorf-Astoria or the Ritz-Carlton,” she threatened. She hated to be inconvenienced, and far worse, she detested substandard service.

  “Mrs. Baldwin, you’re a valued guest and we appreciate you staying with us. I apologize for the mix-up and I’ll personally make sure that your meal arrives at your door within the next ten minutes,” the deep-voiced manager assured her.

  “I’ll be counting,” Brenda snapped before hanging up the phone. She stomped over to the high-back chair in the corner and kicked off her designer heels.

  She’d elected to have dinner in her room rather than dine in the company of Juanita Presley. When she and her sister Dorothy arrived at the hotel that morning, to Brenda’s shock and surprise, Juanita was standing at the registration desk, checking in. Dorothy and Juanita hugged while Brenda forced a reluctant smile through pursed lips.

  “What a surprise to see you here, Juanita,” Brenda said with suspicion as she looked around the richly decorated lobby. She couldn’t help but notice that her archenemy was dressed to kill so early in the morning, wearing a sleek designer chemise. It was an outfit one would wear if she wanted to look good for someone special. Brenda wondered if they’d caught Juanita in a compromising situation; having an out of town secret rendezvous. “What brings you here, to this hotel?” she asked.

  Juanita cleared her throat and gave Brenda a semi-cordial smile. “Actually, I’m here with Pamela. She’s receiving an award today from the Association of Black Women Professionals.”

  “That’s right!” Dorothy said. “I completely forgot that the ceremony was this weekend.”

  “Well, I know you’ve been very busy,” Juanita said.

  “You must be so proud,” Dorothy praised.

  The air fluttered from Brenda’s sails as the two women chatted. Not only had Juanita’s party last month been a grand hit in their social circle, now she had an award-winning daughter to brag about.

  “Here’s Pamela now.” Juanita smiled.

  Pamela strolled up to the group with the grace of a ballerina. Her gently relaxed pageboy highlighted the sparkle of her large, hazel eyes. The petite beauty was fashionably dre
ssed in a power suit that managed to throw off an air of unmistakable femininity. Only a true diva could pull that off, and a true diva Pamela was. She greeted Dorothy and Brenda with delicate air-kisses, careful not to disturb her flawless makeup in the process. She was picture perfect and it made Brenda seethe with envy.

  “Mrs. Baldwin, I’ll be in town next week on business and I’d love to stop by Samantha’s party to wish her happy birthday,” Pamela said.

  “Yes, dear. Please do,” Brenda said. “It’s going to be the event of the summer.” She smiled in Juanita’s direction. “The party planner I hired is amazing.”

  It was apparent that Brenda was trying to compete with Juanita, so apparent that her rival decided it was time to bury the hatchet. So in the spirit of conciliatory gestures, she invited Brenda and Dorothy to dinner that evening to help celebrate Pamela’s prestigious award. Dorothy was delighted, but Brenda was less than enthused. In her mind she determined that Juanita had only extended the invitation as a means to gloat. Brenda had no intention of breaking bread with them, but she also didn’t want to look like a poor sport. She knew she had to bow out gracefully, so an hour before dinner she came down with a migraine and said she needed to rest.

  Now, sitting alone in her room, Brenda longed for her room service order to arrive, especially her bottle of chardonnay. She’d had a long, frustrating day of shopping and now she was ready to unwind. She was thinking about the boutiques she planned to visit the next morning, when a knock at the door drew her from her thoughts. “It’s about time,” she muttered aloud. She slipped her heels back on and walked to the door.

  “Room service,” the voice called out on the other end.

  Brenda looked through the peephole and saw two men standing on the other side, one in a uniform and one behind him at an obstructed view. She opened the door and allowed the young man in the uniform to push the linen-draped cart into her room as the other man followed. She looked at the cart full of covered dishes and let out an exasperated huff. “I can already see that you brought the wrong order. This isn’t the meal I requested. I need to speak to the room service manager immediately!”