Let's Get It On

by Cheris Hodges

  “Okay. Your mother hates me,” Maurice said. “That’s real good.”

  “She knows,” Kenya said. “About the baby and all.”

  He dropped his head. “You told her?” he said.

  “No. I was on her insurance, and she’s known for years. She thought that I would come to her and talk about it. I just never thought that I could,” Kenya said. “She’s going to have a hard time getting past that.”

  Maurice stood and glanced sidelong down the hallway. “You think I should go talk to her?”

  Kenya shook her head furiously. “She’s not going to listen to you,” she said.

  “I can’t just stand here and do nothing,” Maurice said, then took off down the hall.

  As he walked away, Kenya prayed that her mother didn’t have access to any sharp objects.

  Maurice stood in the doorway of Angela and Henry’s bedroom, not meaning to eavesdrop but unable to say a word.

  “Kenya’s an adult, Angie. She’s capable of making her own choices. She’s not a little girl anymore,” Henry said.

  “So what? She’ll always be my little girl, and if I see her walk into a fire, I’m going to try and stop her. How can you just give him a free pass, knowing that . . . I just don’t believe it. I know you men stick together on things, but this is your daughter.”

  “Maurice is a genuine good guy who made a mistake. You didn’t hear him talking to her. I think he loves her, and he knows if he hurts her again that I’ll kill him,” Henry said.

  “I want to kill him now,” Angela said as she made eye contact with Maurice. “What do you want?”

  “Mrs. Taylor, you have every right to hate me. I know that there’s nothing I can say to make you change your mind about me, but what about Kenya?” Maurice walked into the room and stood against the wall.

  Henry slipped out of the room, because he knew Angela and Maurice needed to talk alone. Angela rose from the bed and stood toe to toe with Maurice. He looked down at her, since he towered over her by a foot. Kenya definitely got her feistiness from her mother.

  “You’re a sorry excuse of a man,” Angela said through clenched teeth. “All of these years Kenya was dying inside. She lost you, her child, and she gave up her dreams, because they all seemed to include you.”

  “She told me about the baby, and I can’t tell you how guilty I felt, and I know that there’s nothing I can do to take her pain away or change what I did. But I was young and messed up big-time, but I promise you that I will never do anything to hurt Kenya again,” Maurice said.

  “You say all the right things, Maurice. Your silver tongue has always been your secret weapon, but I’m not one of your little fans. You’re a liar, and you will always be one in my book.”

  Unable to control his frustrations, Maurice blew up. “But this isn’t about you, Mrs. Taylor. Kenya has made her choice, and you can hate me all you want, but do you want to lose your daughter in the process? We’re getting married, and we don’t need your damned permission.”

  Henry stormed into the room. “All right, you won’t talk to my wife in that tone. Now, you can’t expect that either one of us would be jumping for joy because you’re engaged to our daughter!”

  Maurice ran his hand across his face. “I’m sorry. I was out of line for raising my voice, but I meant what I said. Kenya and I are getting married, I love her, and I’m going to do right by her.”

  “Stop all of this right now!” Kenya cried from the door. “This isn’t the way I’m going to live my life. Constantly choosing between Maurice and you guys. No one’s asking you to fall in love with Maurice. All that matters is that I love him.”

  Angela threw her hands up. “Fine, Kenya. It’s your life. I’m going to clean up my kitchen.” She pushed past Maurice and bolted out of the room.

  Henry shook his head and followed his wife.

  Once they were alone, Maurice drew Kenya into his arms. “That went well,” he said sarcastically.

  “Oh, that’s one way of looking at it,” she said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Kenya and Maurice left her parents’ house quietly. There were no hugs good-bye and no other confrontations or loud arguments. Instead of driving back to Charlotte, the couple decided to stop at the downtown Hilton.

  Inside the room, Kenya curled up on the bed, wishing that things had gone better with her parents. Maurice eased in bed, beside her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

  “Honey,” he said, his lips close to her ear. “I know things didn’t turn out the way that you wanted them to, but your parents know where we’re coming from.”

  “I know,” she said as she turned around and faced him. Kenya stroked his cheek and smiled weakly. “I guess I hoped they’d see you the way I do.”

  “Maybe one day they will, but that’s my problem. I have to win their trust. There’s nothing you can do to change their opinion of me. I have to prove to them that I am worthy of your love.”

  Kenya leaned in and kissed him on the nose. “I already know that you’re worthy.”

  “They’re just looking out for their baby girl,” Maurice said. “I can’t blame them.”

  “Even though I wanted my parents to stand behind us, I’m not going to let them change my mind about marrying you,” Kenya said.

  “But are they going to show up? Do we want to have a—”

  Kenya brought her finger to Maurice’s lips. “Our wedding is about us and not them.”

  Kissing her finger, he nodded in agreement. “So, when are we going to do this?”

  Kenya shrugged. “I don’t know, but the sooner the better.”

  “You’re not going to change your mind on me, are you?”

  Kenya rolled her eyes, biting back a comment about her name being Kenya and not Lauryn. “I’m not changing my mind,” she said and then leaned against his chest. “I love you, and there’s nothing anyone can say or do to make me change my mind.”

  Maurice kissed Kenya tenderly on the back of her neck. “I thank God for every day that you’re in my life. Your mother’s right, though. I’m selfish. When we get married, I’m going to want you all to myself. And I do have a silver tongue, and talking ain’t the only thing I do with it.” He ran his tongue down her neck and across her shoulder before flipping her over and lifting her tank top to expose her breasts. Kenya melted as he took her rock-hard nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue across it before devouring it as if she were a piece of sweet candy. She felt dizzy with yearning. Thoughts of her parents were pushed from her mind, and she was filled with the untold pleasure that was about to come as he eased down her body, using his teeth and fingers to pull her panties off. Desire pooled between her legs, and she was so wet that Kenya thought she had a river flowing between her thighs.

  Maurice spread her legs and kissed her inner thighs before moving to her tender folds of flesh. Kenya moaned in delight and dug her nails into his shoulder as he flicked his tongue across her throbbing clitoris. Her legs shook, and her juices flowed like an ocean. She grasped the blanket as he deepened his kiss, touching every sensitive spot. Kenya arched her back, pushing her body closer to his mouth, because she wanted to feel more of him, wanted him to make her scream.

  Maurice reached up, sensuously massaging her breasts and making her body hotter than an inferno. Ready to feel his manhood deep inside her valley, Kenya tugged at Maurice’s ear, whispering, “I want you. Inside me.”

  He didn’t need any more coaxing as he spread her legs and lifted her hips to his and slipped inside her. She heard wedding bells and thought of babies and sitting on the porch, holding his hand. Opening her eyes, she saw that the man she loved was staring at her as well. Their hearts seemed to have one beat; they seemed to breathe the same air as they shared their love. Their union was complete when they climaxed together and fell asleep in each other’s arms. Finally, Kenya felt secure with him, felt as if they had a future, and nothing, not even her parents’ disdain, would change that.

  The next morning, Keny
a and Maurice didn’t want to pull themselves out of bed. But with a four-hour ride back to Charlotte, they were forced to climb out of bed, shower, and hit the road.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stop by your parents’ place before we go?” Maurice asked as they got into the car.

  “No. My mother’s probably at work, and knowing my dad, he’s in Covington with my uncle. They had their say last night, and I don’t think I want to hear anything else right now.”

  “I do have one request. I’d like to go see my mother before we leave. She should be at the bakery, and we can get a free meal.”

  “Okay. In all of this, I hadn’t even thought about the fact that we didn’t tell your mother about us.”

  Maurice laughed. “I’m sure James has filled her in. But I should tell her myself. And don’t worry. My mother has always loved you.”

  Kenya pinched him on the shoulder. “Funny.”

  They headed for Auburn Avenue, in the heart of the Sweet Auburn Historic District. Maurice’s mother had worked off and on for years in a bakery that locals loved and tourist couldn’t get enough of. When the owner died two years ago, his family asked Maryann to take over the day-to-day running of the bakery. Though she didn’t have to work, because Maurice took care of her bills and anything else she needed, Maryann agreed because she wasn’t the type of woman to sit at home. Besides, she loved cooking and meeting new people. Maurice would’ve been happier if his mother had stayed home or moved to Charlotte and had relaxed after the hell she’d endured when he was growing up, but he has happy because she was.

  “Does the bakery still have those sticky buns your mom used to bring us in the summer?” Kenya asked.

  “They sure do. But I can’t have any. I’m in training,” Maurice said sadly. He loved those five-hundred-calorie buns, and he could never eat just one. But with training camp coming up, he needed to keep his weight down. The last thing he wanted was for some rookie to come into camp and take his place.

  “Well, we’ll split one, because I don’t want all of those buns sticking to my hips.”

  “No, I’ve got something a lot better for those hips,” he said in a seductive growl.

  Kenya slapped him on the shoulder as he opened the door to the bakery.

  “You ever think about moving back here?” he asked.

  Kenya stopped in the doorway. “Are you getting traded to the Falcons?”

  Maurice shook his head. “I’d better not be. But there is life after football.”

  “I know, but I like Charlotte, and moving right now wouldn’t be a good thing for me being that my job just transferred me from Atlanta. Moving back isn’t an option.”

  “You don’t have to work, Kenya. I make—”

  “You really don’t expect me to quit my job and become one of those stereotypical NFL wives,” she said, with her hands on her hips. “That has never been my goal.”

  “I know that,” he said. “But if you wanted to move back to Atlanta, we could.”

  Kenya kissed him on the nose. “You and James have your business in Charlotte, and you’re becoming sort of an icon in the city.”

  “And I don’t want our kids to grow up with the Holly-weird syndrome, either, thinking that the world is theirs because of who I am.”

  “Trust me, they won’t,” Kenya said, “I’m not going to have any of that. When we have children, I’ll keep them firmly grounded in reality, no matter how many Super Bowl rings their daddy has.”

  They headed for the counter, and when Maryann saw them, she bolted from behind it, ignoring the line of customers, and enveloped Maurice and Kenya in a big bear hug.

  “I’m so happy to see you two, together,” she said. “I thought James was pulling my leg.”

  “It’s true,” Maurice said through his smile.

  Maryann looked at her grumbling customers, then ushered Kenya and Maurice to an empty table in a corner. “I’ll be right back with sticky buns and coffee. Let me clear this line.”

  “Why don’t you have anyone working with you?” Maurice asked.

  “I’m glad you volunteered,” said Maryann. “Kenya, you don’t mind if I take him for a few?”

  “Not at all, Mrs. Goings,” Kenya said.

  Maryann waved her hand. “You know we aren’t that formal. You can call me Maryann. We’re about to be family.”

  As Maurice and his mother walked away, Kenya couldn’t help but wish that her family had welcomed Maurice the way Maryann had welcomed her.

  The customers, who’d previously been grumbling about standing in line so long to wait for their morning sweets, were excited to be served by Atlanta’s favorite son—even if he did get their coffee orders wrong.

  Kenya smiled as she watched him interact with the customers. Even when some of the ladies, both young and old, flirted with him, it didn’t bother her, because she knew who he was going home with and where his heart belonged. Kenya no longer had to question Maurice’s love or loyalty. He was totally hers.

  The bakery cleared as quickly as it had filled. Maryann put a sign that read BACK IN FIFTEEN MINUTES on the door, locked it, and took a seat with Kenya and Maurice. “All right,” Maryann said as she set coffee and sticky buns in front of them. “How did this reunion happen? James told me bits and pieces, but I want to hear the whole story.”

  Maurice pinched off one of the buns and smiled at Kenya. “The first thing she did when she saw me was slap me.”

  Maryann laughed. “And I’m sure you deserved it,” she said.

  “Maurice, tell the truth,” Kenya said. “You were eyeing me like I was a piece of meat on a grill.”

  Maryann popped Maurice on the hand as he picked up another piece of the bun. “You’re in training. Anyway, after you guys met on the island, Kenya, you just decided to move back to Charlotte?”

  Kenya shook her head as she took a slow sip of coffee. “I was already moving to Charlotte, and your son was the last person that I wanted to see. So, imagine how surprised I was when he was one of the first people that I ran into in the Bahamas.”

  Maryann shook her head as if she was reliving bad memories from Maurice’s involvement with Lauryn. “I can’t blame you for not wanting to see him. After all, he was supposed to marry that heifer.” She paused to bite into a bun. “I’m not sorry that they didn’t make it past the ‘I dos,’ but I was hurting that it was so public.”

  Maurice picked up his coffee. “I messed up, but that’s behind me, and who cares about her anymore?” He looked pointedly at Kenya.

  “That’s right,” Kenya said.

  “I’m glad that you’ve forgiven my son, but I’m sure Angela doesn’t feel the same way,” Maryann said as she poured more coffee into Kenya’s cup.

  Kenya shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, though. Maurice and I aren’t children, and we don’t need my parents’ permission to get married.”

  “I know that, and I also know how close you and your mother are. But she’ll accept this marriage when she sees how happy you are. Just look at that smile on your face. The two of you have been grinning and smiling since you walked through the door.”

  Kenya touched her own cheek, unaware of the fact that she was smiling. However, she did know that Maurice made her feel like nothing else in the world mattered.

  “Ma, not everybody thinks your son walks on water, like you do.”

  Maryann sucked her teeth. “Boy, don’t make me slap you. So, how long are you two going to be in town?”

  “We’re on our way back to Charlotte,” Maurice said.

  Maryann nodded. “I’m glad you stopped by. Should I assume that things didn’t go so well with your parents, Kenya?”

  “Not exactly, but my dad seemed a little more accepting than my mother,” Kenya said.

  “Then he’ll work on bringing your mother around. That’s the good thing about having a real marriage. You work things out as a team,” Maryann said as she rose to her feet and held her arms open to Kenya. “My son has always loved you.”

/>   Kenya hugged her future mother-in-law tightly. “I know.”

  Maurice looked down at his watch. “We’d better get going,” he said. “Ma, I’ll call you when we get home.”

  Maryann kissed her son and ushered the couple out the door. “Drive safely, and no speeding,” she admonished.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Kenya and Maurice said as they headed out the door.

  The drive back to Charlotte seemed to go by quicker because there wasn’t that much traffic since most of Atlanta was at work. Obviously, someone was smiling on them, Kenya thought as she drove down the nearly empty interstate. She cast a sidelong glance at Maurice.

  “Your mother’s so sweet,” she said.

  “When she wants to be. She loves you, though. Always has. She didn’t take to kindly to me bringing Lauryn home that first Thanksgiving,” Maurice said.

  “I don’t blame her, there was enough turkey there already. I saw you two that day,” Kenya said.

  “Really? I-I . . .”

  “I wanted to throw up when I saw her in that micromini skirt, hanging on you like a cheap suit. I was thinking that maybe it was love because your mother was going to eat her alive.” Kenya laughed. “But everything happens for a reason. I was never happier that we were going to Covington for Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “Believe it or not, it took everything in me not to go over there to see how you were doing,” he said.

  “I believe it—not!” she said.

  “I had to wait until Lauryn went to sleep, and then there was the chance that your dad, your mom, or you would have shot me.”

  Kenya shook her head. “I never thought I’d look back on this and laugh,” she said. “That was the most hurtful period in my life.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “You don’t have to keep apologizing. I realize that I needed that pain to grow and realize who I was. For too long, I allowed you to define me, and I tried to do everything that I thought would make you happy. If it hadn’t been Lauryn who broke us up, it would’ve been something else, because we were growing in different directions, yet we didn’t want to admit it.”