Hitts & Mrs.

by Lori Bryant-Woolridge

  “I wasn’t really meditating. Just being quiet for a minute to find some answers.”

  “So why not come to the source?” Candace asked, playfully thumping her chest.

  “Just because your big head is shaped like an eight-ball doesn’t mean you’re psychic,” Melanie teased. “And how many times do I have to tell you that you have all the answers? You just have to be willing to be still, dig deep, and listen.”

  “Okay, enough of the swami salami stuff. Tell me what’s got you in this pensive mood, and don’t feed me any more BS,” Candace said.

  “You’re right. I am worried about someone,” Melanie volunteered.

  “Friend or foe?”

  “Friend.”

  “A he-friend or she-friend?”

  “He-friend.”

  “Is this the guy you met through work?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, Melo, we can continue to play twenty questions, which is not only time-consuming but boring as shit, or you can just come out and tell me what the hell is going on.”

  Melanie crossed the room to her dresser as she decided whether to confide in her friend. It was a very personal situation, but who better than Candace to give advice about married men and their scorned wives?

  “This is strictly confidential.”

  “Understood and obeyed.”

  “My friend is married and his wife recently found some letters I’d written him.”

  “What kind of letters?” Candace asked, intrigued by the idea that Melo might be part of the same lovers’ triangle she so vehemently disapproved of. “Are we talking Penthouse Forum or ‘Dear Ann Landers’?”

  “Just letters about our feelings and relationship. But taken out of context, they could give the wrong impression.”

  “Did the words miss you, love you, or fuck you show up anywhere?” Candace asked.

  “Well, yes. At least two of the three.”

  “Then everything is in its correct context. What did the wife do?”

  “Other than letting him know she knew about us, I have no idea. I talked to him when he was on his way home, but haven’t heard anything since. Something’s not right. It’s been days. He said he’d call.”

  “He’s probably too busy getting his ass waxed to pick up the phone. Believe me, there’s nothing worse than a wife on the warpath. She’ll have his butt in the doghouse for months. Good thing you have Will to keep you occupied until his sentence is up.”

  “Candy, it’s not like that.” Melanie went on to explain the scope of her relationship with John, forcefully emphasizing the absence of sex from their liaison.

  “Don’t start that bullshit again. You told him you loved him?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he said he loved you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you’re more than friends. So who is this brother? Do I know him?” Candace asked, not for one minute believing that they had not been intimate.

  “It’s John Carlson.”

  “That white boy you work with? What about Will? Why do you continue to dog that man? How much more humiliation are you going to put him through?”

  “Just a minute ago you had no problem with me having Will and a married man on the side. Now it’s an issue because you find out it’s John? Why?”

  “Because white men don’t love black women. They may be curious about us and our supposed wild and promiscuous ways, but they don’t love us. To them we’re an anomaly. A curiosity fuck. They simply want to take us to bed so they can earn their zebra stripes and brag to their friends. They screw us and leave because they don’t think we’re good enough for them to stay.”

  “Why do you hate white men so much?”

  “Because they’re nothing but heartless cowards, a lesson I learned firsthand during my freshman year at Hampton. The first time I fell in love it was with my English lit professor. I thought he was the finest man—black or white—I’d ever seen and I loved everything about him. He said he loved me too—enough to screw me every chance he had until I got pregnant. Then he pretended he didn’t know my name.” Candace paused and swallowed her rancid memories before continuing.

  “What happened?”

  “I had an abortion and he found himself another chocolate honey to fuck. I learned right there what gray boys really want from black women.”

  “Candy, that must have been horrible, but you can’t compare the two. John’s nothing like that.”

  “I’m really tired of this holier-than-thou attitude you’ve got going when it comes to men. It’s always been that way. Your men are perfect and mine are fucking dogs.”

  “You have to admit that your track record, beginning with this professor and ending with Frank, says something about your choices.”

  “Bullshit. All men have some dog in them and you’re one stupid bitch if you don’t see it.”

  Melanie could not believe the angry verbiage being directed toward her. She was sorry she’d shared her secret relationship with Candace. She’d been searching for compassion and understanding from her friend, but found judgmental disdain instead.

  “Why don’t we just skip the movie?” Mel suggested, no longer interested in their girls’ night out.

  “Fine. I’ll call you when I get back from Palm Springs. And now that we’re obviously rowing the same boat, I trust that you’ll still cover for me while I’m away. Remember, I’m in Nassau.”

  “I told you that I don’t feel comfortable lying to Griffin.”

  “Even if it’s to help out your best friend?”

  “My best friend wouldn’t ask me to lie.”

  “I’ll remember that, Melo,” Candace said as she turned her back and strolled out the door.

  Melanie woke up thirty minutes before the alarm with John Carlson on her mind. This was the second dream she’d had about him this week, confirming her hunch that something was not right. She needed to reach out and learn what was going on between John and his wife, and how their situation was ultimately going to affect her.

  She got up and showered, unable to wash away the feelings of sadness that things had turned into such an ugly, deceitful mess. Another relationship on the injured reserve list. Mercury must be in retrograde, Melanie thought.

  Two of her three most important alliances were floundering right now. First John and now Candace. Melanie still wasn’t sure what she’d done wrong to raise Candace’s ire to such a fever pitch, but until her grudge-bearing friend decided it was time to make up, the chilly air between them would remain. Thank goodness she and Will were doing well. Melanie was looking forward to spending the upcoming weekend with her fiancé.

  An hour later, Mel was in her office sorting through her mail. She finished reading a memo from Felipe Martinez in Miami regarding select pieces of art and made several notes before noticing a large manila envelope addressed to her in John’s handwriting. She immediately ripped open the mailer and pulled out a series of sketches and a heavy envelope. Mel could feel some sort of object tucked inside. Curious, she tore the short edge away and turned the envelope over, causing the enclosed ruby pin to drop onto her desk.

  Mel picked up the brooch and examined its features, impressed by its beauty and design. She momentarily placed it aside with the letter and took a moment to concentrate on the illustrations of what appeared to be a new hotel. She glanced through each sketch, once again overwhelmed by John’s immense talent. A sigh escaped her mouth as she reached over and picked up the pin, comparing the set of stairs John had designed to its real-life example. Sketched from both above and below, the majestic double staircase radiated glamour and drama even on paper. With its bowed shape converging at the concierge’s desk, which was positioned at the top to resemble a clasp, it reminded Melanie of a monumental necklace. As usual, John’s work impressed and excited her. Wanting more details, she reached for the letter.

  My dearest Jax,

  So, what do you think of The Jewel, Dallas’ newest five-star boutique hotel? It’s the first p
roject birthed from the creative loins of Carlson Properties. And do you recognize the pin? I found it the day we went to the flea market together—the day that I regained my ability to see art and inspiration in everything. I want you to have it because that was also the same day I realized that you were going to be someone very special in my life.

  These past months have been so revealing. Our relationship has taught me so much. Perhaps the most important thing I learned is that I’m capable of loving and being intimate in ways that I thought could only be expressed physically. Talking, feeling, sharing—these are all viable ways to make love. I understand this now.

  I love you, Jax, and a part of me always will. But I also love my wife, and as I sit here writing you this letter, I am so scared that I might lose her. It’s so unbelievable to me that if I had not met you, I might never have realized how much I love and need Sharon. I’m also sorry that I’ve cheated her out of the kind of love she deserves. All these years I’ve been her caretaker, instead of her husband, and I’ve forced her to pay for that care by selfishly dictating our life together. I’ve bent and molded our marriage to meet my needs, but have they met hers? No. I want to change all of that, if she’ll let me. And if she does, we’ll both have you to thank.

  It’s such a shame that the world isn’t ready for our kind of love. I’d like to think that in time things might change, but right now I have to do what’s best for Sharon and me. I know you understand, because it’s also what’s best for you and Will. Marry him, Jax. I know you love him and he’s damn lucky to have you.

  So, my sweet Melanie, we have to say goodbye, at least for now. I’d like you to think of The Jewel as a monument of sorts. I’m building it for you and me, for Sharon and Will. It is my tribute to love in all of its wonderful and varied incarnations.

  Be well. And please know that even though you don’t hear from me, you’re always in my thoughts.

  Love,

  John

  Melanie felt the tears fall as she finished the letter. The season between them had turned, and though she knew intellectually that everything must change, emotionally it was still a painful reality to endure.

  She worked nonstop the rest of the day, trying to keep her mind occupied, but every now and again, thoughts of John would slip into her head and yank at her heart. Her only regret was that the termination of their relationship was so abrupt and uncomfortable, particularly for him. It should have been smooth and natural, the way it began.

  Mel returned home that evening emotionally drained. After dinner and an hour of television, she eagerly lit her meditation candle, sat back onto the couch, and began repeating her mantra. After breathing slowly and deeply for several moments, she could feel herself slipping into the comforting and familiar void.

  As she sat in stillness, Melanie sensed herself falling deeper into the gap than usual. She could feel the sensation of being pulled lower and lower, as if she were riding a cosmic elevator down to the basement level of her soul. After several moments of blissful stillness, John’s presence came to her. She didn’t actually see him, but his spirit was as strong as if he were standing right in front of her.

  Melanie felt her essence drawn to John’s and the feeling of being cradled in his arms was real. She felt pressure on her lips and a warm and all-encompassing energy that enveloped her core from the inside out. Here in this wonderful, spiritual netherland they held each other and she and John made love in spirit, as they had never done in the flesh. Their union was intense and beautiful. This was not about physical pleasure, this was a soul-coupling—two spirits united in a powerful and otherworldly encounter that eclipsed anything she’d ever experienced in human form. The intensity of their joining brought on an onslaught of tears—not of joy or unhappiness, but simply pure, unadulterated emotion.

  “I love you,” she heard John say as he slowly slipped away.

  Eyes closed, Melanie remained in her still and hushed state, savoring the multitude of feelings running through her. She felt peaceful, joyful, and overwhelmingly loved. Mel allowed herself several more moments to slowly recover from this remarkable encounter.

  Eventually she opened her eyes and glanced around the room, silently greeting familiar objects—each proof that she was still of this earth. She blew out a deep breath. Besides being sexually intense, this had also been the most spiritually profound session she’d had since she’d begun mediating five years ago. It was also a moving and appropriate end to a beautiful relationship born in the heavens to forever change the way she lived and loved.

  Chapter 25

  Griffin Bell stood in front of the mirror with the script in his hand, running his lines. He was due to begin rehearsals for Local Color in two weeks and he could tell by his initial read that this was going to be his much-anticipated career break. Unlike Race for the Race, this project would have an audience of hundreds of thousands. Griffin proudly ran his finger across his name listed in the credits. If he shined in this movie just half as much he knew he was capable of, Denzel, Wesley, and Samuel L. better watch their backs.

  Griffin couldn’t wait to share the good news with Candace. When his sexy baby returned five days from now, he had a big surprise waiting for her. His career was no longer sputtering in neutral, but zooming pedal to the metal ahead. He hoped that it would get her out of this major funk she’d been in for the past few weeks. Griffin was glad that she was in the Bahamas with her friends chilling and hopefully getting her attitude readjusted.

  “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the talented, finest mack daddy of them all?” he said, giving his reflection a huge Hollywood grin. Before the mirror had a chance to respond, the phone rang. Griff quickly picked up, hoping to hear Candy’s voice. Instead it was Kylle Summers, from Candace’s law firm, asking for her phone number in Palm Springs.

  Palm Springs? Why is this paralegal asking about Palm Springs when Candace is in Nassau? Griffin wondered.

  “Sorry, Kylle, I know she left her itinerary around here someplace, but I can’t put my hands on it right now,” Griff lied. His ego wouldn’t allow him to admit to a stranger that he was obviously getting played. There was no itinerary, no other number to call in Nassau or Palm Springs. Candace had been purposely vague on her contact information, claiming that her assistant had all the particulars and he could always reach her on her cell.

  “When you find it, could you call me? She has a client with a bit of an emergency who really needs to talk with her and can’t seem to get through on her cell phone.”

  “I’ll get back to you.” Griffin hung up the phone and felt the anger and suspicion fill his veins and travel to every inch of his body. What was Candace trying to pull? Why had she told him that she was going to the Caribbean, and her office that she was on a business trip in California?

  Griffin spent the next ninety minutes tearing up the house looking for information on where and with whom Candy might be. On her desk he found no travel documents, only a pink message sheet from the office with the name Frank and a phone number written across it. Reaching into the desk drawer, he pulled out a stack of bills, including an invoice from AT&T Wireless. Griffin searched the statement looking for Frank’s number, but did not find it listed among the calls. Another set of digits, however, kept popping up throughout the month. Griff punched the numbers into the phone and got a voice-mail message from Attorney Frank Warren, announcing that he was out of the office until next Wednesday. Still curious, Griffin dialed the operator and asked for the area code for Palm Springs. The answer came back 760—the same as on the pink sheet.

  Griffin angrily slammed the receiver back into its cradle and took a minute to think. Sure it could be a big fat funky coincidence that they were both out of town at the same time, but how could he explain this phone call? After a few deep breaths, he began dialing again, this time calling Melanie Hitts. When she answered, raw skepticism caused him to dispense with all the proper formalities and Griff simply blurted out his question. “Who is Frank Warren?”

>   Melanie asked him to wait while she put her call with Will on hold. She paused before clicking back over, disbelieving her bad luck and furious with Candace for placing her in this tenuous position.

  “He’s a lawyer that Candy knows,” Melanie answered, hoping he wouldn’t ask any further questions.

  “Are they working on a case together?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Melanie, be straight with me. What’s the story?” Griffin kept pressing, wanting confirmation on what he already knew.

  Melanie crossed her fingers before opening her mouth. “They were together a while back, but they’ve been over for a long time,” she said, failing at her resolve not to lie, but unwilling to be the one to hurt him with the truth.

  “Then why is his phone number all over her bill this month? And why is he out of town the same time she is? And why did she lie about where she was going?”

  “I don’t know, Griff. You’re going to have to ask Candace those questions.” Melanie could not believe how sloppy Candace had been. The girl had just left town two days ago and already Griffin had managed to sniff out her trail. It was almost as if she wanted to be discovered.

  Griffin disconnected the call, too crushed to say any more. Why did he seem to fall in love with women who wanted to be players, not partners? He’d known Candace Bennett was high-maintenance going into the relationship, and that by having no money of his own, he was at a distinct disadvantage. That was exactly the reason he’d busted his ass these past months to pull his weight around the house. Griffin always knew that this reversal of fortunes was only temporary, but apparently Candace couldn’t wait. He had offered her all the love and respect he had to give, but it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough.

  Griffin immediately shot down his mind’s suggestion to at least give her the opportunity to explain. Better to cut his losses and move on. If Candace couldn’t remain faithful in a live-in relationship of four months, how could she last the next fifty years? With a future full of location shoots and work-related separations looming ahead of them, how could he ever feel secure in her fidelity? No explanation she could utter was enough to make him risk his heart for a lifetime.