Hitts & Mrs.

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by Lori Bryant-Woolridge




  Hitts & Mrs.

  Lori BryantWoolridge

  This book is dedicated to my parents,

  General and Mrs. Albert Bryant, Sr.,

  with all of my love and appreciation.

  Mom and Dad, because I was so deeply loved,

  I am able to love in return

  and that priceless gift has made my life

  full and rich of all the things that truly matter—

  truth, love, and peace of soul.

  Contents

  Purpose

  Prologue

  Melanie Lorraine Hitts nervously chewed her lower lip as she…

  Chapter 1

  Mel lit the candle, settled back onto the couch, and…

  Chapter 2

  Melanie wasn’t sure if it was the bright August sun…

  Chapter 3

  “I definitely think it’s the right thing to do, honey.

  Chapter 4

  Melanie sat in the lobby area of Carlson and Tuck…

  Chapter 5

  During the forty-minute conference call with the Vogue Belize representatives…

  Chapter 6

  Send Instant Message

  Chapter 7

  “How’s the apartment coming?” Gwen asked before helping herself to…

  Chapter 8

  As Friday’s sunlight slipped away, John was forced to turn…

  Chapter 9

  “I’m not sure that ‘only twenty-three shopping days left until…

  Chapter 10

  Griffin paced backstage, praying to the theater gods for a…

  Chapter 11

  The funky hit song “Havin’ It” blasted through the Carlson…

  Chapter 12

  John could not recall when he’d enjoyed working on a…

  Chapter 13

  As they strolled across busy Collins Avenue, Melanie lagged behind…

  Chapter 14

  Melanie had just finished writing her monthly letter to the…

  Chapter 15

  Amanda sat quietly studying the faces around the Carlsons’ dinner…

  Chapter 16

  “Hi,” Melanie mouthed as she motioned John to come in.

  Chapter 17

  “Melo, what are you doing in there? It’s after seven.”

  Chapter 18

  Amanda watched as Ilah Rogers’s blue-veined, milky-white hands trembled. Slowly…

  Chapter 19

  “My feet are absolutely screaming,” Melanie announced as she threw…

  Chapter 20

  John smiled as he raised his arm to admire this…

  Chapter 21

  “Your move, sexy,” Griff prompted Candace.

  Chapter 22

  Sharon slid the original version of Sabrina into the VCR…

  Chapter 23

  The three men, shirtsleeves rolled to their elbows, heads bowed…

  Chapter 24

  “What are you doing in here?” Candace called out, bursting…

  Chapter 25

  Griffin Bell stood in front of the mirror with the…

  Chapter 26

  “Melanie, Austin Riley from Carlson and Tuck is on line…

  Chapter 27

  Sharon walked through the guest bedroom, picking up Amanda’s wet…

  Chapter 28

  “If you do talk to him, will you tell him…

  Chapter 29

  After sixty-two days without regaining consciousness, John’s doctor recommended taking…

  Chapter 30

  Will was fifteen minutes late for his noon lunch with…

  Epilogue

  Melanie pushed the button near the bed and watched the…

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Purpose

  The sun’s imagination of love

  and the moon’s fantasies

  combine and entwine into

  golden rays of light

  so brilliant, so vivid

  eclipsing darkness

  serving only God’s purpose

  in that the moment our eyes

  capture its luminescence

  we conceive and breathe

  visions of love directly

  into our dreams

  making us believe

  in things we cannot see

  making us believe

  that if it’s up to us

  flowers will always bloom when

  birds, butterflies, and bumblebees

  dance to the rhythm of singing trees

  that if it’s up to us

  children can walk to school

  in a village that raises the child

  that if it’s up to us

  welfare is cared for

  hunger is fed

  and greed is shared

  that if it’s up to us

  homelessness finds a home while

  domestic abuse becomes homeless

  drugs are the cure not the cause

  and peace and heroism

  replace war and terrorism

  that if it’s up to us

  Israelis play Twister with Palestinians

  Crips break bread with the Bloods and

  Tupac throws dominoes with Biggie

  that if it’s up to us then it’s…`up to us

  to allow God’s light

  to warm the imagination

  of our hearts that will create

  a river of love within our veins

  so we can love ourselves

  and then love each other.

  Teddy Bell

  Prologue

  Melanie Lorraine Hitts nervously chewed her lower lip as she perused the ballroom of the Mayflower, an elegant, old-money hotel in the downtown section of the nation’s capital. She felt strangely detached from the festivities taking place around her. She could smell the faint, fragile scent of gardenias, her favorite flower, scattered generously across the room. Like viewing Christmas tree lights through squinted eyes, she could see the blurry twinkle of candlelight dance gracefully above the tables and the festive and fashionable attire of this well-to-do, multi-generational crowd of African-American achievers. Off in the distance Mel could hear the deejay’s current selection, Maxwell’s hit song “Matrimony,” and the vague but joyous sounds of laughter and fellowship as the people she loved and who loved her gathered to celebrate this important step in her life. Yes, her body was in the room but the sounds, smells, and colors scarcely penetrated the invisible bubble of detachment that separated her from this sparkling affair.

  Melanie felt uncomfortably confused. Why now, on this beautiful June night, at a time when she should be blissfully happy and radiantly confident about her future, did she find herself second-guessing her decision to marry? Why, at this late date, did she feel so unsure and tentative about her future with her fiancé Will? Mel couldn’t help thinking that her upcoming marriage, just like this engagement party, was a colossal mistake.

  “Did I tell you how incredible you look tonight?” Will Freedman asked, his well-spoken baritone voice shaking Mel out of her solitary thoughts. Her short, sexy mop of corkscrew curls playfully framed a heart-shaped face, the perfect canvas for her diminutive pug nose, almond-shaped light brown eyes, and full sensual lips, which were stained in her trademark MAC lipstick, “O.” At thirty-two, his fiancée’s beauty was as accessible as it was enviable, and Will found the combination irresistible.

  Melanie’s gown, resembling spun gold, was scattered with one-inch metallic gold-and fuchsia-colored squares. The bright colors enhanced her flawless chestnut-brown skin, sparkling tonight with a thin layer of gold dust. The fitted, spaghetti-strapped gown could not keep secret the awesome curves
of her petite body, revealing strong, muscular arms, the result of her rarely missed, three-times-a-week workouts. Skimpy gold sandals graced her pedicured bare feet and the thigh-high split revealed smooth shapely legs. Will loved the way Mel dressed, with a funky freshness that was elegant and at the same time cutting edge.

  “Thank you.”

  “You also look a million miles away,” Will said, taking her hand in his. “Whatcha thinking about?”

  “That I am so incredibly blessed,” Melanie replied wistfully, squeezing Will’s hand as she watched her brother-in-law, Xavier, gently dip and twirl her very pregnant sister, Francesca, around the dance floor.

  “I know I can’t spend enough time on my knees in grateful prayer. I’m engaged to the most incredible woman on earth. My job here at America Online is working out beyond expectations—”

  “I do love you. You know that, don’t you?” Melanie abruptly interrupted in a tone that came very close to desperate.

  “Of course I know that, baby. And I’ve loved you since the first moment we met.”

  “I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. You do believe that, right?”

  “What’s up with you, Mel? The wedding is a month away. Don’t tell me you have Popsicle toes already?”

  “Will, I…It’s just that…It’s nothing, I’m just a little tired, that’s all,” Melanie said, fear preventing her from honestly expressing her concerns.

  “Tired and a little scared, maybe?” Will said, as he pulled Melanie into a protective hug. “Baby, it will be okay. I know this is all happening so fast and you’re bone-tired from going back and forth to New York, but it’s almost over. Next month we’ll be on our honeymoon, starting our perfect life together.”

  Perfect. Without flaw or fault. Melanie turned the word’s definition over in her mind. Will’s idealized view of their future frightened her. He was full of cotton candy dreams and Melanie was at the sticky center of each one of them. He wanted the two of them to be the perfect couple, create the perfect family, and live the perfect life. Will’s confidence and clarity on the issue of their future was unsettling. How could he be so sure of himself—of them—as they embarked on this marriage? How could she possibly live up to all of his great expectations?

  “Yo dog,” interrupted a boisterous cry. The two turned in the direction of the booming voice. Will’s best friend Griffin approached and without warning put his arms around Melanie, dipping her low to the floor and delivering a loud, exaggerated kiss on her cheek. “For future reference, that is how you kiss the bride,” he said as he set a laughing and slightly flustered Melanie upright.

  “That’s enough out of you, Dark Gable,” Will said with a laugh as the two men embraced and exchanged their fraternity handshake. Griff’s line name was truly fitting, as he had all of the same suave, manly, and handsome characteristics of the original movie star. Though with his tempting green eyes, copper-colored complexion, and sexy man-of-the-world accent, Melanie thought that Griffin was definitely more exotic and visually appealing than Clark.

  “Hello, I’m Griff, and you, Melanie Hitts, don’t even come close to the description given to me by my boy, here. You are far more lovely and charming than he ever let on.”

  “So finally I get to meet the legendary Griffin Bell—actor, poet, drummer extraordinare. A real throwback to the Harlem Renaissance. When did you get in from LA?” Melanie inquired.

  “I came here straight from the airport,” Griffin replied. “I almost didn’t make it. The film went way over schedule. Let’s just hope my small but vitally important part makes the final edit. But I got here as soon as I could. I had to be here for my boy as he announced to the world that he was officially off the market—and with good reason, I might add,” Griffin said, winking at Melanie.

  “I’m glad you’re here for him too,” Mel said, tentativeness creeping back in her voice.

  “Always. I got to hand it to you, man. You did it, Big Willie style for sure. One day you’re saying hello, three months later you’re handing her a ring.”

  “Hey, man, when it’s for real, you know,” Will said, his voice full of love and excitement.

  “I heard that. Now let me see the rock.”

  Melanie extended her hand to display the two-carat princess-cut solitaire set in platinum. The large stone caught the light and threw off flecks of rainbow-colored fire. Griff whistled appreciatively as Will proudly looked on. Mel glanced down at her ring as well, but couldn’t seem to muster up the satisfaction she’d felt when Will had placed it on her finger six weeks ago. Her hand, like her heart, felt depressingly heavy.

  “Excuse us, time to party,” Will announced. “Grab yourself a honey, man. Mel’s got plenty of single friends here.” Will led his future wife to the dance floor and took her into his arms. Mel closed her eyes and tried to silence her concerns as they swayed to Bobby Caldwell’s forever classic, “What You Won’t Do For Love.” She leaned into his six-foot-three, 230-pound body and attempted to relax. While in her early years she had preferred well-sculpted men with rock-hard bodies, Mel now loved Will’s softer, more pliant torso. Experiencing a Will Freedman hug was one of life’s little joys—like falling into a cozy rumpled bed at the end of a long hard day.

  Griffin watched with the others as Will glided Melanie gracefully around the floor. After letting them dance two stanzas solo, Mel’s father, Lawrence, gleefully cut in to dance with his daughter, while Elizabeth Hitts stepped into the arms of her soon-to-be son-in-law. After a quick glance around the room, Griff sauntered over to a feminine spectacle of well-placed curves standing alone near the bar.

  “Hello there. Care to dance?”

  His low alluring voice captured the attention of Melanie’s best friend, Candace Bennett, forcing her to turn around. Her smile, however, stopped short of genuine as she gave its owner the once-over. Her experienced eye immediately took inventory—Timex watch, poly/wool blend suit, inexpensive leather shoes—and within seconds earmarked him as a Filene’s Basement dweller. This brother represented the male economy model, which like cheap champagne could be found overflowing the bar at any chickashay downtown nightclub. Thanks, but no thanks. When it came to men, Candace Bennett was interested strictly in the luxury edition.

  “I don’t think so,” Candace responded in a tone that, despite the slight upward turn of her lips, translated into, I can’t believe you even had the audacity to approach me. She really wished her lover, Frank, had come down from New York with her, but he was too much of a coward when it came to public displays of their relationship. He claimed that as a prominent lawyer he had to guard his professional and media reputation, but Candace knew that he was simply too afraid that someone might see them together and run back and tell his wicked witch of a wife.

  “Hey, it’s just a dance. I ain’t askin’ you to be my babymama,” Mr. Economy said, breaking into street vernacular, no doubt to further irritate her. “And you got ashy ankles anyway. Girl, a little dab will do ya.”

  “Negro, please,” Candace said, sucking her teeth and rolling her eyes before turning her back to him. She could feel her face warm with the glow of embarrassment. Candace waited for him to leave before glancing down at her feet. Damn, she thought as she hurried off to the ladies’ room in desperate search of some Jergens.

  Griff could only laugh. Typical uppity sister. Always steppin’ over Mr. Wrong Pedigree in search of Mr. Right Bank Account. When will they learn that the most expensive and visually appealing dessert ain’t always the sweetest?

  Their caustic encounter was replaced by the distinctive clink of sterling silver on fine crystal. Griff looked up to see Melanie’s parents standing at the microphone with champagne flutes in their hands. The room began to settle down as guests drifted toward the bandstand.

  “May I have your attention?” Lawrence’s request boomed through the speakers. “As father of the bride-to-be, it is my honor to propose the first official toast to the future bride and groom. It is also my duty to warn thi
s young man that if he does anything to hurt my baby, he’d best head for the hills.” He paused as the crowd chuckled. “Seriously, I know we’re well past the day of arranged marriages, but I could not have picked a better man for my Melanie.

  “Let me brag a little bit here. Will graduated magna cum laude from Morehouse College, went on and got his MBA from Wharton School of Business, and is now a vice president for one of those big Internet companies. Even more important than all those important credentials, he is a man of integrity and I respect him. God bless you kids, Elizabeth and I are proud of you both. We wish you a lifetime of love and happiness,” he concluded, raising his glass.

  “Love and happiness,” the guests chimed in unison.

  “And laughter,” Candace called out as she slinked to the stage in her cleavage-popping, butt-hugging, waist-clinching ensemble. It wasn’t just the bright red color that set her dress off from the others, it was the way it embraced every curve and sway of her body with an over-the-top, hot-on-the-verge-of-vulgar familiarity. Candace Bennett put the “sin” in sensual. A solid size ten cruising toward twelve, she had squeezed every inch of her voluptous, brickhouse body into a size eight, making the rest of Mel’s friends appear modestly attired in the formal equivalent of house-dresses.

 

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