Hitts & Mrs.

by Lori Bryant-Woolridge

  She pulled on her toffee-colored suede pants and a soft silk turtleneck of the same color. She primped in the mirror, checking herself out from all sides. Melo, you’re looking good, girl. More importantly she felt good. I guess that’s what love will do for you, she thought, grateful for the abundant flow that had recently engulfed her.

  “Let’s get a move on,” Candace called out again. “Griffin and Will are going to be here in half an hour.”

  “Okay. Okay,” Mel said as she pulled on her leopardskin ankle boots. Will’s going to be here soon, sang out an excited little voice in her head.

  Love certainly was a tricky thing. She’d spent the past five days totally caught up in her feelings for John Carlson, but standing here anticipating Will’s arrival, Melanie could honestly say that she was eagerly looking forward to her evening with him. Is it really possible to love two people? she wondered. Mel decided to leave that question to future meditation and stepped into the bathroom to put on her makeup.

  While Melo finished getting dressed, Candace sat on the sofa steeped in true Geminian confusion. One astrological twin was not a happy camper. Here she was, dressed like she was going to the movies, in the party capital of the world, on New Year’s Eve. Instead of wearing a hot, sexy number to some fabu dance club or VIP’s private party, she and Griff were planning to ring in the new year playing party games with Will and Melanie. This was exactly what she got for dating a man with no money and having friends who didn’t care.

  Yet, the other zodiac double was excited as hell about actually spending the evening as part of a twosome. Visits to official coupledom were rare for Candace and the idea was as appealing as the man who was her partner. Frank’s abrupt departure from her life had hurt her terribly and Candace had neither the desire nor the fight left to continue blocking her feelings for Griffin Bell.

  Candace was changing and the prospect frightened her. She’d spent a lot of time thinking about her recent argument with Melanie. Thanks to Melo’s anything-but-subtle comments, she’d begun to wonder if maybe she was in a no-win, going-nowhere-fast relationship with Frank. But what really got her thinking was Melanie’s question about karma. Candace had been quick to voice the reasons why her actions would not come back to bite her in the butt, but how much did she really believe them? Whether it was Regina Warren or any of the other wives whose husbands she’d shared over the years, in the back of her mind Candace always knew that she was treading on another woman’s territory. But until now, she’d never let the thought come to the forefront. Maybe it was time to change—time to get her own man and stop messing around with everyone else’s.

  Even the part of her argument that heralded the advantage of the mistress bounty was now in question. Take Christmas, for example. In years past with lovers gone by, Candy could always count on impressive gifts complete with highly coveted cache and exceptional value. Through the years she’d amassed a grand collection of fine jewelry, designer clothes and purses, even valuable artwork. Most of these presents had been delivered days before or after the actual holiday. Those few that had been received on the actual date were dropped off during some rushed exchange that ended abruptly when it was time for the giver to dash back to his family.

  This year had been remarkably different. With Frank out of the picture, she’d utilized her fall-back position and spent the holiday with Griffin. Candace had given him the complete works of Langston Hughes, and instead of the usual material madness, Griff had created a book of poetry for her. From the paper to the original poems to the book’s whipstitched binding, it was a true labor of love. His thoughtfulness touched Candy in such a way that she chose not to share his token of affection with even her best friend. She chose instead to secretly luxuriate in this priceless gift, which gave her extreme pleasure each time she turned a page. Unlike a ring or watch that Candace would usually share with thousands of other consumers having similar taste, Griffin’s poems were penned specifically for and about her, and they pirouetted around her imagination day and night.

  “With you as my canvas…`I paint my name…on the bottom of your feet…`with brushstrokes from my tongue…`so that if you ever become lost…you’ll find your way back…to me.” Candace softly recited her favorite poem from the book as she moved around the apartment lighting candles and putting the finishing touches on their party details.

  “What are you looking all dreamy-eyed about?” Melanie asked as she entered the living room.

  “Just looking forward to getting out of this tired-ass year and seeing what the new one has in store. Next year has got to beat the hell out of this one,” Candy said as she began mixing up cocktails.

  The heavy knock of knuckles on wood put an end to their dialogue.

  Melanie answered the door, giving both men warm hugs and kisses on their cheeks before taking their coats.

  “Melo, you’re looking fly as ever,” Griffin commented, receiving an appreciative grin in return.

  “Griffin speaks the truth. You look great, baby.” Will smiled warmly, handing her a bundle of salmon-colored tulips tied with matching satin ribbon. Mel looked sharp as ever in her fashion-forward ensemble. She also had a new happy glow about her that enhanced her natural beauty. And best of all, she seemed genuinely pleased to see him.

  “Thank you,” she said, accepting the flowers. “You both look terrific as well. This is a great color on you, Will,” she said affectionately, rubbing the soft cashmere sleeve of his ocean-blue sweater.

  Her compliment and touch gave Will an internal meltdown. The remnants of his week spent marinating in sweet anticipation were beginning to simmer, replaced by a giddy gratitude for the opportunity to share Melanie’s company on such an important date night. New Year’s Eve. Valentine’s Day. Birthdays. These were the lovers’ holidays that meant something. In Will’s mind, the fact that he was here this evening spoke volumes about their future together.

  Candace surried up behind Mel and handed each of them a chilled martini. Once the drinks were served, she reached up and gave Griff an erotic kiss laced with lusty promises for the night to come. Will and Melanie walked into the living room, leaving the couple to privately complete their sexy hello.

  Predinner cocktail chatter flowed easily among the four. By the time they all sat around the large oval coffee table to dine on a sumptuous meal of surf and turf, double-baked potatoes, and blanched string beans, they were laughing and talking like old married couples who’d been sharing this tradition for years. Candace and Griff were rarely out of physical touch, sitting on the floor thigh to thigh, arms and hands brushing each other as they picked from each other’s plates with companionable ease.

  Melanie and Will, while physically maintaining their company manners, had little trouble falling back into their old habit of sharp, witty conversation, playful teasing, and steady, comfortable laughter.

  By ten o’clock, the early evening composed of food and a rousing game of Charades that even Candace enjoyed had given way to some booty-shakin’ New Year’s madness. Griffin had brought his collection of seventies music and the four of them were getting their dance on, doin’ the bump to Parliament’s catchy funk classic, “Flashlight.” By eleven-thirty the foursome was pleasantly inebriated and eagerly anticipating the arrival of the next year.

  At 11:55, Candace turned on the television to Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve show. Melanie distributed the requisite hats, noisemakers, and champagne flutes, while Candy followed behind, pouring a spot of the bubbly into everyone’s glass.

  “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six…” The four of them counted down aloud and watched the glowing ball descend from the skies of Times Square. “Five, four, three, two…`Happy New Year!” They blew horns, toasted joyfully, and hugged each other before coupling off for the traditional New Year’s kiss as the familiar strains of “Auld Lang Syne” played in the background.

  “Happy New Year, Melanie,” Will said before bringing his mouth to hers. His tongue sensuously parted her lips and tenderl
y explored the softness of her mouth. His kiss was slow and delicate, plainly telling her that there was no other place he’d rather be.

  Melanie allowed herself to revel in the glow of this bright moment. The words and actions of the previous days had slipped from her mind, replaced by the joyful love she felt for this man. It felt not only good, but right to be back in Will’s arms again. She felt protected and safe and his kiss simultaneously closed the curtain on Act One of their relationship and left both of them anticipating the uncertain promise of Act Two.

  “Time for a change of pace,” Griffin, the evening’s self-appointed deejay, announced. He put on the B-side of the Isley Brothers’ album The Heat Is On. Griff knew, as did every brother who spent any time in the basement under the blue lights, that the combination of “For the Love of You,” “Sensuality,” and “Make Me Say It Again, Girl” provided nearly twenty minutes of unadulterated sexy, soulful, slow-drag seduction.

  Will and Melanie came together, and Mel wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head lightly on his chest. After several stanzas, Will took a step back, partly out of deference, but mostly because he was embarrassed by the enormous erection he felt coming on. The combination of Ron Isley’s low, lusty wails and the warm, taut body of the woman he loved in such close proximity left him helpless to control the blood rushing from his head to his groin.

  Melanie too was hearing the frantic pleas of a body desperately seeking sex. She felt a delightful nagging sensation in her pleasure zone, like a juicy ripe plum ready to burst. By the start of “Make Me Say It Again, Girl,” the cotton strip of her panties was wet and Melanie found herself uncontrollably pushing her hips into Will’s. They rocked together, lightly grinding their pelvises into each other, enjoying the flood of sensations fluttering through their bodies.

  Will burrowed his face into her neck, kissing the hot spot behind her ears that caused her body and resolve to melt like chocolate in the midday sun. Slowly his lips made their way to her mouth, but not before kissing every delectable speck of skin in between. Their bodies continued to slowly drag to the lusty beat of the music while their tongues danced a lazy, seductive tango. Will’s hand slipped to her behind, lightly caressing her buttocks. Melanie could feel his erection through his jeans, and was both appreciative and regretful for the cloth boundary that obstructed their individual sexual treasures.

  The music stopped and several sensational moments passed before Melanie pulled herself away. Griffin and Candace were nowhere to be found, having retired into Candy’s bedroom sometime during the second song.

  Will and Melanie sat back on the couch, staring at each other, their chests heaving as they tried to settle their breath, shortened by unconsummated desire. Melanie felt like she was back in high school—making out on the living room couch while her parents watched television upstairs. There was something magically delicious about turning up the heat with stolen kisses and secret touches, feeling safe in the knowledge that things could progress only so far.

  While one couple sat on the sofa trying to cool their desires, the second romped in the bed, lustily bringing each other to roaring orgasm.

  “Happy New Year,” Candace said as she watched the exquisite contortions of her lover’s face as he came.

  “Same to you,” Griffin said as he brushed the bangs from her eyes. “I love you.”

  Candace let out a low chuckle as she happily snuggled closer. “I love you too. So, how many women have you charmed with those words?”

  “Only one. Until now, she was the love of my life.”

  “What happened?” Candace inquired, feeling strangely jealous of a woman she didn’t know and would never meet.

  Griffin was silent, making it obvious that his memories were painful. “Let’s just say it would have never worked out, so I had to cut her loose.”

  “Why?” Candace asked, though the look in his eye made her wonder if she really wanted to find out.

  “She cheated on me and, as the Wayans brothers say, ‘Homey don’t play that.’”

  “So whatcha got cookin’? Something smells good in there,” Candace said, walking into the kitchen.

  “Fried chicken, waffles, eggs, and grits,” Melanie replied.

  “Go ’head, Ms. Sylvia,” Candace said, referring to the proprietress of Harlem’s famous soul food restaurant. “I see Big Willie spent the night. So did you two finally get busy?”

  “No. We slept together, but nothing happened.”

  “But when we left, you were grinding up a storm on the dance floor. I just knew you were going finally break down and give him some.”

  “We’re taking things slow, but girl, let me tell you, I wanted to—bad. Damn, that boy can kiss.”

  “Then what the hell are you waiting for? Give some. Get some. Everybody’s happy.”

  “All in due time,” Melanie answered.

  “When are you going to figure it out that he is the one?”

  “What about you?” Mel asked, ignoring her question. “You’re looking mighty chipper this morning. Maybe you’ve finally figured out that Griff’s the one.”

  “Maybe,” Candace admitted with an actual blush to her cheeks. She stood pouring two cups of coffee, while skillfully avoiding Melanie’s eyes.

  Maybe was as good as a yes when it came to Candy, and her admission shocked Melanie. Lord, it really must be a new year if Candace Bennett was cracking!

  “Melo, I told Griffin that I loved him last night,” Candace divulged with a girlish giggle.

  “Did you mean it?” Melanie certainly hoped she did, because it was obvious, just by looking at Griff, that he was head over heels.

  “I think I did. I mean, I woke up this morning with no regret.”

  “If you want to love him, just love him and don’t ask why,” Mel advised, speaking to herself as well as her roommate. “Would you and Griffin care to join us for brunch, or will you be having breakfast in bed?”

  “No and no. Griff is taking me out. He wants to show me something.”

  “I’m really happy for you, Candy. This could be the start of something big for you.”

  “You too,” Candy replied with a wink as Will entered the room. Candace walked back to her bedroom, carrying two cups of steaming coffee—one for her and one for her man.

  “It smells good in here,” Will declared as he approached Melanie and kissed her good morning. “You definitely know the shortcut to my heart.”

  “That must explain the unusual joy you find in setting the dinner table.”

  “As my father used to say, an empty plate is merely a prelude to a heapin’ spoonful of homemade love.”

  “Coffee’s ready,” Mel said in an easy tone that to Will’s wishful ears sounded distinctly wifely. “I hope you’re hungry. I cooked for four, but it looks like Candy and Griff won’t be joining us.

  Hungry? More like ravenous, he thought. Ravenous for you, your body, your love. Ravenous for the opportunity to relive this scene every morning of my life.

  Will poured himself a cup of coffee while watching Melanie hover over the waffle iron. He loved the look and feel of this wonderfully simple domestic scene and couldn’t help feeling mournful for their thwarted marriage.

  But hey, it’s a brand-new year and you’re here starting it together. If that isn’t a great omen for the future, then John Coltrane ain’t the baddest saxophonist to ever live.

  Melanie looked up from her cooking and caught Will’s eye. They both smiled, silently expressing their pleasure in being in each other’s company.

  Get used to having me around, Ms. Hitts. Now that I’m back, I’m not letting you go again.

  Hand in hand, Griff and Candace strolled up Broadway through Times Square. The street crews were busy finishing the cleanup from the previous night’s world party. Tourists clogged the sidewalks and street, headed for whatever satisfied their fancy, served up only as New York can.

  There was an icy chill to the air and Candy snuggled closer to Griff, enjoying the warmth
of his body. Together they took in the offbeat combination of holiday decorations and multimedia missives flashing around them. From the ticker tape boards to the latest in trendy underwear and television programs, this was the advertising playground where consumers and marketers happily converged.

  “I don’t care what anyone says, this is the best street in New York City,” Griffin said with all the respect and awe reserved for the few true rarities that have the power to fuel one’s dream. “There is more life energy in one square foot of this place than the entire stretch of Madison Avenue.” As one who heartily believed in this true wonder of the shopping world, Candace silently disagreed.

  Griffin turned onto Forty-eighth Street and stopped in front of the Walter Kerr Theatre. “This is where it all started,” he told her. “I saw The Piano Lesson, starring Charles Dutton, here. It was my first Broadway play and I was totally blown away. I was twenty-three years old, and before the end of the first act, I knew that acting was what I wanted to do with my life. Nothing I’d experienced up until then left an impression nearly as deep as those two hours sitting in the dark of this theater. I felt like I was home for the first time in my life.”

  “What do you mean?” Candace asked.

  “I grew up moving around a lot and I was always the new kid. I never felt like I had roots, only wings, taking me to the next situation. That’s how I thought about each new army post. Not that I was going to a new home, but moving on to the latest situation. I really hated it and eventually, as a way to cope, I became a different person for each new circumstance. Sitting here in the audience ten years ago, I realized that I had been acting all my life.

  “Now every time I step onstage it’s like I’m alive for the first time. All the rejection and frustration, all the putting off having a steady job, love, money—it’s all worth it for those few moments under the lights.”

  Candace listened and watched closely as Griffin revealed himself. He looked much younger, almost like a little boy, when he talked about his dreams. And she’d never heard anyone, even people much more successful than Griff, speak with such passion, love, and dedication. His fire overwhelmed her and she impulsively threw her arms around him.