by Carl Weber
Kevin smiled at the thought of getting a new Ford Expedition. As long as he could remember, no one in his family had ever owned a brand-new car. After so many months of feelin’ like a failure, driving a status symbol might restore some of his pride.
“Oh, baby, I’m so proud of you. What are you getting, something new or used?” Mama assumed he would be getting a compact car.
“I’m going to get me one of those new Ford Expeditions. You know, the big sports utility trucks. That way when I have summer vacation we can take trips down to Georgia and Florida and visit your sisters.” He thought this would make his mother happy but learned he was mistaken when he heard her stem reply.
“Where you gettin’ the money for this big fancy truck? Them things are expensive. Lord, boy, don’t you tell me you’re gettin’ the money from Denise.”
Kevin didn’t say a word. He knew his mother was upset; he just didn’t understand why.
“Boy, I thought I raised you right. Don’t you have any shame?” Mama’s voice was getting louder with every word. “That girl done bought you a bedroom set, a living room set, and Lord knows what else. And you got the nerve to ask her to buy you a car? You ought to be ’shamed of yourself.”
“Mama, I didn’t ask her to buy me a car. I’m the one buying the car. She’s just helping me with the down payment. Besides, what’s wrong with her giving me expensive gifts? She can afford it.” He couldn’t believe his mother was so upset.
“Boy, if you was here right now I’d knock you upside your head. You think I’m stupid? I know how much them trucks cost. You gonna needed at least eight thousand dollars to get the payment so’s you can afford them.”
He had not thought about how much he was going to have to get from Denise as a down payment until Mama brought it up. But she was wrong, Denise wouldn’t have to give him eight thousand. It was more like twelve to fifteen thousand. Still, he didn’t see the problem with accepting the gift Denise was offering. If his damn basketball career hadn’t fallen apart, he would be spending his own money on things like this.
“Mama, why you gettin’ all upset? Denise knows what she can afford. Why can’t you just be happy for me? This is going to be my first brand-new car ever. And I’ll still be making all the payments by myself.”
This was not the first time his mother had protested the gifts Denise had been giving him. In fact, every time she bought him something, Mama would let him know that she was displeased. He couldn’t understand what her problem was, but it was starting to become tiring. As far as he was concerned, she was his girlfriend, and she liked spoiling her man. If he had the kind of money she had, he’d do the same thing for her.
Mama had never fully explained her objections to Kevin. A part of her felt she should respect Denise for the help she gave in getting Whitney medical treatment. But now, she thought, things were getting out of control. Her son was getting sucked in by the lure of so many big-ticket gifts, and she needed to give him a dose of reality.
“Kevin, you listen to me, because I have something very serious to say.” Mama hesitated for a second, gathering her thoughts. “You know I like Denise. But if you think that girl is giving you all this stuff out of the kindness of her heart, then you are one stupid-ass man. That girl is up to something. I don’t know what, but she’s up to something. I can feel it.”
For the first time in his adult life, Kevin was ashamed of his mother. Denise had proven herself to him. The fact that she saved Whitney’s life should have been enough to convince everyone of her intentions, but it wasn’t. He couldn’t understand how his mother could be so ungrateful, and he exploded on the phone.
“Mama, how could you say that? Denise saved Whitney’s life. I would think you would be praising her instead of trying to develop conspiracy theories. Is this only because she’s white?”
“You can call it whatever you want, son. But if you’re not careful, one day you’re gonna wake up and find that everything you have really belongs to her. And that you ain’t a man but an unimportant little nigger following behind your white massa, waiting for her to throw you a crumb. Is that really a position you want to be in?”
“Mama, that’s uncalled for.”
“Is it? When was the last time you bought her a present? Can you remember when you last paid for the two of you to go out? Kevin, I don’t know what’s going on up there in New York, but something stinks, and I’m starting to think it’s Denise. I don’t care how much money she has. No one buys this many presents for a new love unless there’s another motive.”
“Mama, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” Both of them were silent.
He was tired of defending his relationship with a white woman. It was bad enough when total strangers judged him on the street, but hearing it from his own mother pushed him to the breaking point.
“I’m sick and tired of you constantly giving me shit about my girlfriend! You should be kissing her ass after the way she got those doctors to give Whitney that operation.”
“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” Mama replied in a scream of her own. “You’re going to respect me, Kevin Raymond Brown! I swear before God you’re going to respect me, or so help me I’ll have Phyllis drive me to New York and put my big toe straight up your ass! Now, you tell that girl that you appreciate it, but you won’t be needing her money for a new car.”
“Mama, I’m a grown man. You can’t tell me what to do anymore. I want that car, and if Denise is going to help me get it, that’s none of your goddamn business.” He hung up the phone in anger.
After he took a minute to calm down, he realized what he had just done to his own mother. Never before had they had such a volatile argument. Even after he messed up with the NBA, Mama had always been by his side. He knew this issue must be extremely important for her to be as adamant as she just was. He dialed her number but decided he still wasn’t ready to face the whole issue again and hung up. He would apologize to her another day and hoped that she would relax her opinion just a bit.
In the living room Denise pretended to be reading her book but had listened to every word of his conversation. Her pout was gone, replaced by a subtle grin. She was happy that her plan was working, and Kevin was becoming more fiercely loyal to her every day. She put down her book and joined him by the phone, hoping to convince him to finish what he had started earlier.
29
MAURICE
Carol Davis sang the words to Lionel Richie and Diana Ross’s “Endless Love” as she sipped her red wine. She gazed out at the beautiful azure-blue water of Jamaica. A light breeze blew the wind chimes that were hanging on the patio, filling the air with their sparkling sounds. The music and the wine made her feel exquisite as she stretched out on a lounge chair to admire the pastel sunset.
She placed her wine on the table beside her chair and picked up a bottle of almond-scented lotion. Generously she smoothed the cream over her long, sexy legs, which were exposed beneath the ultra-short skirt she had chosen to wear for her first evening with Maurice. The intoxicating scent of the rich lotion made her feel both romantic and sexy, and she couldn’t wait for Maurice to arrive from the airport so she could properly thank him for this vacation.
In front of the condo complex Maurice stepped out of his rental car and smiled approvingly at the luxurious accommodations. He had flown Carol in earlier so that he could tie up some loose ends at work without making her wait to start her vacation. She had happily accepted the ticket for the earlier flight and promised him she would spend all day in anticipation of his arrival.
He liked that idea. He figured if she was waiting all day on the heavenly island, she would be even more eager to please him by the time his plane arrived. He checked his watch and smiled. He was right on time and sure that Carol would be primed and ready for him after a day in paradise.
The past month had been good to Maurice. His school was up twenty percent in English S.A.T. scores, so he no longer felt like his job was in such jeopar
dy. He had been with just as many women as he had before he contracted the venereal disease, and although he wasn’t having intercourse with them, he was still able to get his sexual satisfaction. Even more important, his wife had stopped pestering him for sex. For Maurice, life was good and about to get much better. He was going to enjoy the evening with Carol, the twenty-eight-year-old interior decorator with gorgeous lips. During his flight he imagined what she could do with those lips.
As he approached the front desk, Maurice could not help but notice the strikingly beautiful woman at the check-in desk. He smiled confidently at her, all thoughts of Carol fleeing from his mind as he poured on the charm for this woman. He was like some type of predatory animal, always on the hunt for fresh meat.
“Hi, I’m Maurice Johnson.” He admired her shapely figure without trying to conceal his stare. “I have a condo rental. I think my associate already checked in.”
“Yes, Mr. Johnson. We have you confirmed for one week in a two-bedroom oceanview condo,” the stunning woman replied, looking up from her computer screen. She returned his flirtatious glances as she told him, “Ms. Davis has already checked in.”
It’s a shame this man is not here alone, she thought, I have some ideas about how I could welcome him to Jamaica.
“Good, but there’s been a change in plans. We’re going to be checking out first thing tomorrow morning, so I’d like to close out my account now, if you don’t mind, Miss”—he read her name tag—“Warner.”
“No problem, Mr. Johnson. I can do that right now.” She took his credit card.
“Please call me Maurice.”
“Only if you call me Debra.” She smiled, handing him a key.
“You know, it’s too bad I have to catch a five-thirty A.M. flight, otherwise I’d talk you into going back to the States with me for a couple of days.” He winked at her.
“I don’t think your associate would appreciate that, Maurice.” She smiled. He had a naughty side to his flirtatiousness, and she liked that. She batted her long eyelashes to continue their game.
“She’s just my secretary. She won’t mind.” The wheels were turning in Maurice’s devious mind. He was hatching a plan to get this woman back to New York with him after he was through with Carol.
“In that case, I get off at two A.M. Maybe we can have a drink before you leave.” This time she did not bat her eyes but stared him down directly, as if challenging his honesty.
“Maybe,” he teased as he walked toward the elevators. He was planning on seeing this woman again before the night was over.
At the door to the condo he had rented, Maurice straightened his tie and smoothed his hair before he knocked. Carol opened the door with a smile on her face that would have flattered even the biggest player.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” he said.
He stared admiringly at Carol as he entered the condo. She had dressed in a micromini skirt and a halter top to reveal as much of her baby-smooth skin as she could. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on her well-toned body. She was perfect from her long, shiny hair to her delicate painted toenails.
“Since you said you’d like to dine in, I thought I’d dress for comfort more than show. I hope you don’t mind.” She could tell by his appreciative gaze that he didn’t.
“Mind? No, I don’t mind at all.” Maurice couldn’t take his eyes off this striking woman. “Carol, you look better casual than most women look with an Oprah makeover.”
As he flattered her, he was imagining how she looked underneath her revealing outfit. He thought the ring in her belly button looked incredibly erotic. Carol felt Maurice’s stares slowly undress her. She contemplated making the first move. She figured if she was bold enough to wear a skirt the size of a Band-Aid, she might as well be forward.
Stepping closer, she massaged his neck seductively. Brushing past his lips, she blew in his ear and nibbled on his lobe. She took a step back when she felt his stiffness against her warm thighs. Maurice let out a long, low moan.
“Whew! Excuse me.” She stepped back, trying to compose herself. “I’m really sorry about that. I’ve kind of got this thing about sucking on a man’s ears when I’m excited annnn—”
“Oh, you’re excited, huh?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, my God! Please don’t get the wrong idea. It’s just that I’ve been lying on this romantic island, daydreaming about you, and I got a little ahead of myself. I’ll try to behave now, and at least let you in the condo first.”
“Relax,” he said with a huge grin. “Why don’t you show me around the condo? I’d like to see what three thousand dollars a week looks like.” Dropping his suitcase just inside the front door, he followed Carol as she took him into the living room. The condo was beautifully decorated with a mix of modern art and antiques. They walked through the rooms, chitchatting about the different decorating changes Carol would make if the place were really hers. They ended their tour in the kitchen, where the room was filled with the aroma of a wonderful meal Carol had prepared. He grabbed her and kissed her passionately.
“Thank you,” she said tenderly, accepting his kiss. “Are you ready to eat?”
“Always.” He licked his lips seductively.
“Dinner! Are you ready to eat dinner?” She lifted the cover off a steaming pot. The wonderful scent coming from the pot told Maurice’s taste buds and stomach that it was time to stop being a Mack daddy and eat.
“Mmm, that smells delicious. What is it?”
“It’s Italian seafood. There’s fresh lobster, shrimp, clams, oysters, and crabs in there. I hope you like seafood.”
“I probably love it more than anyone you’ve ever met.”
He sat down at the table and opened a bottle of red wine. They quietly traded small talk as they dined. Maurice mostly listened as he savored the delicious meal Carol had prepared. She seemed to have no problem carrying on a conversation by herself.
“Can I get you some more, Maurice?” she asked, picking up the serving fork. “My mama always said the best way to get a man is through his stomach.”
“No more, thanks. But I would like a cup of coffee and a slice of that delicious-looking pie over there.”
“Coming right up. Why don’t we have our pie and coffee in the living room?”
“That sounds great It will give us a chance to play a game I brought along with me.” He settled himself comfortably on the couch while Carol went to the counter to slice the pie.
“What game? I didn’t see you come in with a game.” She placed the dessert down on the coffee table in front of him. As she sat on the sofa next to him, he reached into his pocket and produced a small deck of cards.
“Oh, no, Maurice, I’m horrible at cards. Why don’t we take a walk on the beach?”
“Relax, baby.” He handed her the small box of cards. “I brought these along because I thought they might help us get to know each other better. We’re going to be here a week. We can spend all day on the beach.”
Carol took a good look at the box and read the words printed on the back of each card. THE DATING GAME, A FUN WAY FOR ADULTS TO GET TO KNOW EACH OTHER.
“Well, what do you think? Would you like to play?” he asked impatiently. Now that his appetite was satisfied, he was ready to get on with his conquest.
“You’re gonna have to explain the rules first.”
“Okay. They’re really pretty simple.” He opened the box. “Each one of us takes a card from the top of the deck. Then when it’s your turn, you read the question for the opposite sex. If you want, you can ask another question to find out more information. I’m gonna warn you, some of the questions are a little bit risqué.”
“I’m a big girl, don’t worry about me,” she giggled. “Now, you go first.”
He smiled, picking up the top card from the deck, and read the question out loud.
“What is the largest number of times you have had sexual intercourse in one night?”
Carol blushed as she answered,
“Four.”
“Was that with one partner or more?” Maurice questioned playfully.
“One!” She shook her head and reached for the top of the deck. “It’s my turn now. Do you feel obligated to perform oral sex on a woman if she performs it on you first?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Experience.”
“You mean to gain more experience, like practice?” She was worried he didn’t know how to take care of a woman.
“No, I just mean a woman taught me a long time ago that it’s very important to give when you receive. Now it’s my turn.”
He pulled another card while she thought about how much she liked his answer. She knew that not all men were interested in pleasing the woman as well as themselves, and she was relieved to know Maurice was different.
“How old were you when you first had sex?” Maurice read from the next card.
“Eighteen,” she said, thinking the question was kind of weak. Picking up the next card, Carol smiled before she read it aloud. “What is your favorite sexual position?”
He didn’t hesitate to answer when he heard the question asked. Then again, why should he hesitate? He had prearranged the cards while Carol was in the bathroom earlier.
“Having someone go down on me has got to be my favorite,” he answered with confidence.
“Really? Why is that?”
“Selfishness,” he said, folding his arms and tightening his bottom lip as he thought, You can’t get gonorrhea from a blowjob.
“Selfishness?” she repeated quizzically. She had been expecting an erotic answer.
“That’s right. All our lives, men are under stress and pressure during sex. The only time we have to relax is during oral sex.”
Carol laughed out loud. “I’m sorry, Maurice, but I’ve never met a man stressed out over sex. Furthermore, if I did, I think I’d be concerned whether or not he’s a real man.”
“Is that so? Well, I guess you’ve never met a real man. Because a real man’s always concerned about your sexual satisfaction. A real man’s always worried about whether or not you had an orgasm.”