Cafe Romance

by Curtis Bennett

  Returning to the dressing area she slipped on her Yves St. Clair long sleeve blouse with detachable jabot and fastened it. Seating herself daintily on the dressing room stool, she slipped her petite left nylon-clad foot into a black suede pump, then her right foot into the other. After inserting her earrings, three on each ear, she sprayed some ‘Moonlight Mist’ perfume around her earlobes and neck then collected her purse and walked into the living room.

  She sat down and reached for the television remote, when the doorbell rang. Rising up, she crossed the small living room in a few long-legged strides. A voluptuous, striking woman, she had the confident walk of someone used to being the center of attention. After ensuring that the security latch was on, she cracked the door open. It was Kurt, and as tall and handsome and larger than life as ever.

  Politely declining to come inside, he waited on her at the door. When she returned with her purse, he escorted her to his Lexus rental. God! She was as lovely as they make them, he thought. And her sweet fragrance did not go undetected by him. He was quick to compliment her on her beauty, her stylish attire, and her intoxicating fragrance. She beamed in return; appreciative that he was the type of man who knew how to compliment a woman over thirty.

  The two grabbed a hearty tossed-salad and spicy spaghetti meal at a local upscale Italian diner, and then headed over to the entertainment district a little over a mile away. In the area only two days, Roxanne had heard about a really ‘happening’ club near the downtown waterfront.

  After valet parking the rental the two walked up to the entrance of the club named Neptune’s Reef, their wide eyes captivated by the cabaret-styled marquee, which was shaped like a seashell. Roxanne, forever the life of the party, waltzed about blowing bubbles from a small bottle of bubble mix, her arm painting large loops in the air, liken to a pixie sprinkling star dust.

  Amused, Kurt paid the cover charge and the two entered, ascending a crescent shaped stairway to an arched doorway leading into a huge outdoor area crowded with partygoers, many seated at a dimly lit sea of round cloth covered tables, others dancing on the large roof-top dance floor. Not far in the distance large potted tropical plants and trees lined the outer perimeter of the rooftop. The setting was Tropicana all the way.

  It took a moment for their eyes to adjust but when they did they both took a moment to absorb the huge galaxy above which provided their ceiling, the moonlit bay off to the right, the perfect romantic touch.

  Kurt led the way to a secluded table near some palms, off to the side of the dance area, and the two took their places there. The music was loud, and festive. The song playing was a Jackson’s tune called ‘Lovely One’, featuring the late Michael Jackson.

  Out of the darkness, a very polite and buxom waitress appeared and took their order. As he talked, Roxanne sat back and regarded her handsome escort with wide, despairing eyes. She ordered a Rum and Coke. Kurt, a Whiskey Sour on the rocks.

  The waitress returned with their order on a round tray. Accepting her tip, she pocketed it, thanked Kurt with a smile, then moved on to another table.

  Turning to face Roxanne, he gave her a long, steady look. “Enjoying yourself?” Without hesitation, she replied, “More than you can ever imagine, Kurt.”

  Though skeptical about this whole outing, Kurt allowed himself to smile. It wasn’t all that bad. After all, Roxanne was a very attractive woman, beauty pageant material, and a woman many men would give their right arm to go out with.

  Relaxing some, he stirred his drink, brought it to his mouth and sipped the liquid contentedly. She sipped at her cocktail too, very ladylike, watching him until his eyes caught hers again.

  “God, it’s so beautiful up here, Kurt,” she beamed.

  With a smile, he nodded in agreement.

  Leaning towards him, with animated eyes, she asked, “Do you know how to do the Electric Slide?”

  “I think I remember,” he answered, regarding her with a sober curiosity.

  “Listen, I’ll be right back,” she said with an infectious smile and a satisfied look in her eyes. Kurt watched with even greater curiosity as she faded from view, her hourglass body melting away his cautious ways, inch by inch, her tight black skirt sinfully corrupting his thoughts. In a moment she returned, taking both of his hands, saying, “Come on! Let’s dance! They’re about to play my song, the Electric Slide.”

  Rising up, he let her lead the way onto the busy dance floor, her left hand grasping his. In a moment nearly all thirty plus partygoers on the dance floor grouped up, then began stepping and sliding and shuffling their bodies synchronously...real funky-like. As he got into the mix, he actually felt rejuvenated. For the moment he was twenty years old again.

  Roxanne, a smooth and skillful dancer, showcased all of her best moves for Kurt. With large round eyes that gleamed, full ruby painted lips that were inviting, her dark hair danced about unrestrained as she turned and twisted to the beat of the calypso inspired beat.

  Kurt had a few moves to his own credit to display. He had always been a good dancer and dresser, she recalled. Shaking her head in delight, she made another one of her trademark moves, dipping low, as she showed off her shapely thighs, along with her agility. She had not had this much fun since he escorted her to their senior high school prom, some fifteen plus years earlier. Maybe twice, in her long marriage to Don, had she come half as close to having this much fun.

  Though his benevolent eyes occasionally focused on her, Kurt could not possible know how much pain and suffering she had endured in her marriage to Don. He could not know how many times she had told herself that when she ran into him again, she would find a way to express how sorry she was for all the hurt she had caused him. With the apologies behind her now, it was like old times again. And for a second time in their history, it was like their first night together all over again for the two former lovers. Moving to the rhythm of the music, they delighted in each other magnetism and athleticism on the dance floor, just as they delighted in each other many years before on a different dance floor.

  When the tempo of the music slowed down considerably, she enticed Kurt into slow dancing with her. Without protest, he embraced her, the clean scent of his freshly showered body sending ripples throughout her own body, making her weak with desire. And it turned her on even more when she rubbed her soft smooth face against his freshly shaven skin. Manly things like that melted her. It had been nearly eleven years since Don made her feel whole and complete, as a woman. Since that time, his lovemaking came at longer intervals. Even then it was more like rape. This was definitely not her idea of love and romance. What woman looked forward to bedding a man who’s claim to fame was forcing himself on her, or running an under three minute Quik-lube special on her, only to roll over and fall asleep? She was sure he was keeping company with another.

  As they danced, Kurt inhaled the fragrance below her earlobe and felt a rush of passion shoot throughout his body. Her body was soft, feminine, and firm. It just did not come any better than this. But for all the wonderful memories he and Roxanne once shared, and no matter that this was the perfect setting, she was the wrong woman for the occasion. And he was beginning to feel guilty about turning down Yvette’s invitation to go out. For the third time tonight he made a mental note to make it up to her, and soon.

  Reclaiming their table the two sat down and ordered another round of drinks.

  “God! I haven’t had this much fun in years,” Roxanne beamed.

  “Don’t you and Don ever go out?” he inquired, looking at her intently.

  Roxanne, unable to help herself, burst out laughing. “Excuse me, I didn’t mean to laugh, Kurt. It’s just that the man’s a complete bore. My husband and I do not even sit at the same table to eat. It’s a wonder we share the same bed.”

  “I would have thought you two were having the time of your lives.”

  “Yeah, I wished,” Roxanne replied, drawing her lips in thoughtfully.

  There was a pause.

  “Doesn’t sound lik
e you two are hitting it on all six cylinders. Are you?”

  “Haven’t for a long time,” she said, with a strained chuckle, as a warm tear rolled down her cheek.

  Kurt looked away momentarily. He returned his gaze to her, saying, “Look, I didn’t mean to probe. I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s alright,” she murmured, accepting a tissue from him to wipe away her tears. When she lifted her eyes, the tears were gone but the pain still flickered there. “I’ll be fine,” she reassured him.

  Leaning back into the chair, Kurt exhaled. He couldn’t believe that anyone would neglect such a woman and all of these years.

  “How’s your sister Trish doing?” Roxanne said, in an attempt to change subjects.

  “Not well,” he felt resigned to say. “She’s into drugs and that outcast scene.”

  “No! Trish would be the last person I would think to go the counter-cultural route.”

  “Well, sometimes, it happens to those you would least expect.”

  There was a pause as a waitress stopped by to collect the empty glasses.

  “You, you were always a step ahead of everyone else, Kurt,” Roxanne declared. “You always had an idea where you were going in life. I admire that in you. Always have.”

  “It wasn’t easy for me but I’ve also had my share of luck,” he replied.

  “That’s an understatement if I ever heard one,” she smiled, the animation in her face returning. “I mean, you were always the quiet one, the more cultivated one in our little group. The unassuming one. Still, out of all of us you were voted the most popular person in the entire school. And I understand why. It’s your quiet and confident personality.”

  “I’ve had my moments. All in all, I try to keep things in prospective. My grandma always made sure of that.”

  “I know that, “Roxanne reflected, adding, “But you’ve been very fortunate, if I must say. More so than the average person. I mean, to begin with, your brother is a United States Senator. You were once a friend of the late and famed saxophonist Emmanuel ‘Mannie’ Boyd, of the Count Basie Orchestra. You knew Donnie Cochran, the first African-American to command the Navy’s world-renowned Blue Angels flight demonstration team and long before that assignment. You even performed with the seventies sensational all girl-group Sister Sledge before they even became famous. And that’s just touching the tip of the surface. And now you are a very wealthy man. I’m just so amazed at you and the life you have lived.”

  “How do you know all of these things?” he asked, with a puzzled look.

  “Don’t forget, we grew up together. Besides, grandma fills me in on the rest every time we spend a quick moment together. She’s so proud of you and so am I.”

  “I should have known,” his voice trailed, adding, “Like I said, I try very hard to keep things in prospective and even harder to keep them private.”

  “Well, I give that much to you.”

  The two returned to the dance floor, shortly afterwards, and embraced for one final slow number. Feeling whole again, something she hadn’t felt in years, Roxanne nestled her head against Kurt’s massive chest. Just like she did at their high school prom.

  Though touched by the moment, he wished it was Yvette’s warm body bundled in his embrace now. This would have been the perfect setting for them, he thought. The club, the music, the moonlit sky, the gleaming bay in the background, it was all just so right. As he often did, he wondered where Yvette was tonight. He knew that she had gone out with Juanita but where? And was she thinking of him at this very moment?

  Chapter 14

  In the shadows of a Roman-styled pillar stood an unknowing witness to the wonderful time Kurt and Roxanne were having at club Neptune’s Reef. Unable to take the hurt and blatant betrayal any longer Yvette sort out her best friend Juanita, who was at the main bar chatting with a former co-worker, and said she was ready to leave.

  The two well dressed women exited the club onto the narrow street and walked the short distance to Juanita’s luxury sports utility. “And to think I asked Kurt out earlier and he turned me down,” Yvette scorned aloud, walking quite briskly, tears welding in her eyes. “I trusted him, Juanita. God, how I trusted him. Men! Oooh!”

  Unlocking the door to the vehicle, Juanita said, “Girl, I’m sure he’ll have one helluva explanation for you, once he finds out you saw him bumping and grinding with Ms. Thang.”

  “And to think he told me he was going to call it a night,” Yvette reeled.

  “He called it a night, alright.” Juanita leered, as the two entered the SUV.

  “You should have seen the way they were dancing,” she fumed. “I mean, they were practically glued together.”

  “I can imagine,” Juanita replied, as she turned the ignition key.

  “I just don’t get it,” Yvette said, still simmering, as they drove off.

  Kurt woke up in the pre-dawn hours with a nightmare vision of an hysterical Yvette standing over himself and Roxanne, who was in bed alongside of his nude form, demanding to know how he could betrayed her. Glancing over at the clock Kurt saw that it was just five in the morning, far too early to be up. Realizing it was only a bad dream, he lay back down, in an effort to return to sleep, but was too shaken to completely relax. He could still hear Yvette’s trembling voice.

  Wanting to hear her soothing voice he picked up the phone and dialed her but there was no answer. She must have turned the ringer off, he reasoned. After all, it was five in the morning and most people do not want to be awoken that early. Still, he had no way of knowing that Yvette had spent the night at Juanita’s eastside condo. With one quick sweep of his hand he uncovered his semi-nude body and rose out of the bed. After throwing on his robe he headed into the kitchen area and poured himself a cool glass of wine. Only then did he return to sleep.

  Hours later, he woke up to face a new day. After a refreshing early morning shower, he dressed, grabbed his wallet and car keys, and hurried into the kitchen to fire up the burners on the gas range. He rushed the refrigerator next, withdrawing a couple of eggs and some hickory smoked bacon and some fruit. In his life, eating breakfast was an essential part of his daily regimen.

  He had just finished eating breakfast and was just seconds from heading out to work when the phone rang. The familiar voice spoke very solemnly and tearfully. After what had to be said was said, the motorhome suddenly breathed quietly around him: the soft hum of the air-conditioner, the gentle purr of the on-board generator. This was often the case after one receives an unexpected phone call about a loved one's sudden death, how everything becomes surreal-like, still and quiet, almost irrelevant. Kurt consoled his grief-stricken aunt and promised her that he would be on the next available flight home. In the next breath, he called Yvette to break the news to her, that his dearly beloved grandma had passed away early that morning, but there was no response, not even from her answering machine. He left a message saying that he would be heading north to attend his grandma’s funeral in New Jersey and that he’d have to give her a rain check on that dinner date and night out on the town. He also said he’d try to contact her later. In the meantime, he made a brief visit to his job and told them he’d need to take some unpaid leave for a few days.

  Returning home, he packed his clothes and made plane reservations via the Internet. He tried calling Yvette again. Still, no answer. He couldn’t leave a message because her answering machine was off. He tried her cell phone but he got no response from that either. By four that afternoon his plane landed in New Jersey.

  As expected, the atmosphere there at grandma’s house was one of great sorrow and sadness. But attentive family members and friends helped buoyed it all. After the service he called Yvette again to update her on events and to let her know that she was still very much on his mind. Still, he got no response. Angling his wrist, he squinted at the illuminated face of his watch. Where could she be, he pondered? He was beginning to get very concerned.

  Yvette had passed the week away working, cleaning house, getting
caught up on some reading and re-establishing her ties with her best friend Juanita. The two women met twice for lunch that week. Though upset with Kurt, she chuckled after Juanita mentioned that ever since Kurt had entered her world her lunch hours had become a premium item, leaving all others to reserve lunch with her at least two months in advance. However humorous the statement was, the sadness quickly returned to her eyes.

  Exhausted, she expelled the breath she’d been holding. Though she loved her job, she just wasn’t into number crunching today. She kept having flashbacks of her last conversation with him and it made for poor concentration. And where was he anyway? She wondered why he hadn’t called. After lunch, she phoned his job, just to see if everything was okay with him. It was then that she learned he had returned to New Jersey to attend his grandmother’s funeral. Sadly, she thought, she would never get the chance to meet grandma.

  It was Friday. Yvette had requested the day off to get caught up on a few things. She had settled down and was watching the afternoon news report when the phone rang. Who could it be, she pondered? Only Juanita knew she had taken the day off. Her first thought was Kurt, as she raced to grab the receiver before the caller hung up. It had been nearly two weeks since that dreaded night at the club, and though the hurt was still fresh, she was ready to hear his side of the story. God, it’s amazing how events can change at the drop of a dime, she thought. Had she not seen him in that woman’s arms that night she would be home longing to hear from him and to hear him say he was taking off early from work to be with her. But things were different now. The voice on the other end of the line belonged to Antwan.

  He said he had intended to leave a message on her voice mail but since Yvette was home, so much the better. With some coercion, he was able to talk her into accepting an invitation to dinner, along with a few rounds of miniature golf. Anything after that was icing on the cake, he rallied.