One Better

by Rosalyn McMillan

  Could she know such happiness? Was this moment real?

  At first, Spice had wanted to invite Sterling, Mink, Dwight, Carmen, and Otis to their private ceremony. But with so much going on in everyone’s lives, she decided to invite only Carmen. She looked over at her best friend and smiled. Dressed in a turquoise blue silk shirtwaist with violet piping and violet shoes, with her face and figure filling out, Carmen looked terrific. She looked as radiant as the bride, Spice thought. And Carmen’s expression told Spice how she shared her happiness. It was true: only Carmen could fully appreciate Spice’s road to this place.

  Ever since attending the AA meeting with Carmen, Spice had felt a new source of strength in their friendship, as if Carmen, too, were a vehicle to release her own pain. Their shared history strung them together—only Carmen knew Spice then, and only Spice knew Carmen. And to see the misery gone from Carmen’s face made Spice rejoice.

  For almost two months, since the crash landing of Flight 2408, Mink had been kept in the hospital. Physically she was recovered, but she struggled with a deep depression. Her doctors felt that, given her fragile state, she might be a danger to herself. The psychiatrist had no idea when Mink would come out of it—every case was different. Spice had consulted with him about her upcoming marriage. The doctor had suggested that she go on with her life. Mink was in good hands.

  As for Sterling, all Spice knew was that she was pregnant. Sterling still wouldn’t return her calls. Spice had to assume and believe that maybe this—the coming birth of her own child—would finally bring Sterling some peace so that she could have a fuller, more directed life.

  Otis was different. Spice knew he would be too angry or embarrassed to attend her wedding.

  Now Spice and Golden were on their way to Mackinac Island. There was a thirty-minute layover in Chicago before their flight continued on to the small town of Pellston on the island. While the newlyweds waited, Golden went over their travel plans. But it was clear that the main item on both their minds now was their private time together tonight.

  September was coming, and the unfolding of autumn’s living sculpture of vibrant greens, reds, golds, browns, and purples as the temperature dropped was fast approaching. This was why Spice had wanted a fall wedding. Fall was her favorite season.

  She read the paper while Golden left to call his office. An eerie feeling clouded over her heart when she read about a young woman’s death. The headline read “Ex-Boyfriend Charged with Slaying His Girlfriend.” The young woman, thirty, was stabbed and shot after the killer removed a live, full-term fetus from her womb. The newborn was in the hospital and in good condition. Relatives were caring for the baby, whom they had named Noah.

  Spice thought of Sterling and Bennie. Even though this was an unrelated incident, it made her worry about her daughter, and she went to the phone to try calling her again.

  The telephone rang, but no one answered. Carmen’s voice rang in her ears: Without a mother’s love, who will protect our children? How will our children heal? Who will cry for the children? Who will hear them cry? Who will love the child?

  Tears fell from Spice’s eyes as she hung up the telephone.

  Spice had assumed that Sterling’s silence was a way of holding out for the ultimate drama that she loved to create. But what if she were wrong? With another grandchild due soon, Spice decided that when she returned from her honeymoon, she would make amends with her baby daughter and get the family functioning as the strong force she knew it could be.

  For now, though, she tried to let go of her worries about her family. She supposed that part of being a mother was learning to allow her children to tend to their own troubles. Spice drew in an enormous breath and imagined her wedding night with Golden. Life was going to be good to her after all.

  The Westbrooks had reservations at the Grand Hotel on Mackinac but declined the honeymoon celebration package. They’d made plans to charter a fishing boat, go horseback riding, attend some of the nightly hayrides, and check out the historical sight-seeing, and Golden had brought plenty of videocassettes to film their entire honeymoon on the historical island.

  But as soon as Golden and Spice arrived, thunderclouds circled the sky above the small island. Trickles of light rain touched them as they hurried inside the hotel. It was just after twelve in the afternoon, and already the sky was beginning to turn a soft gray, the color of infinity and eternity.

  After their luggage was set inside the door and Golden gave the young man his tip, Golden dutifully carried Spice across the threshold of their suite, kicking the door shut behind them.

  Spice felt a little scared. She wasn’t sure if Golden expected to make love now or later. She felt awkward for a moment, wondering about the correct thing to do, but Golden quickly took control of the situation.

  “Spice, I’d love to take you in my arms, and love you for a while.”

  Thank God! Spice thought, and she answered him with a kiss.

  Golden closed the drapes, and when he did Spice turned on the lamps on the nightstand, rolled back the covering, and sat on the bed, waiting for her husband.

  He removed his suit jacket and draped it over the sofa, then unbuttoned his shirt. Sitting beside her, Golden cradled her in his arms and hugged her tenderly. He sensed that Spice was nervous. “Relax.” He tipped her chin up and pulled her toward him. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I told you, I’m just a man. And now you’re my wife, and I want to show you how much I can love you.”

  Spice took a deep breath. “Golden, I love you, too. I want to make sure that I—”

  “Please me.”

  Spice blushed.

  “We talked about this before, remember?”

  “Yeah.”

  He gathered her in his arms again. “Do you know how long I’ve fought these feelings?” He kissed her deeply on the mouth. “I’ve wanted you so badly, I ached all over. But I’m honor bound by my religion. From the moment we first met, my desire for you was so strong, my soul was tormented nightly. The love I felt for you deepened along with my desires. Marriage—which made the inevitable inevitable—was the only answer.”

  Spice smiled now as she listened to him tell her how beautiful she was, how just being near her made his skin tingle. He told her how he remembered the first time they met; what the weather was like, how the light shone on her lovely face, the dress she wore, the scent of her perfume, and the smile on her face that was meant just for him.

  No other words were needed when he touched her face and kissed her full on the mouth. His hands outlined the swell of her breasts, and Spice was shocked and aroused by the new sensation.

  Spice kissed him now, freely, without holding back. “Wait,” she said, and stood before her lover. She undressed slowly down to her garter and nylons and watched his eyes taking in the voluptuous curves of her body. The smile she felt inside was nothing short of rapture. She hadn’t felt this much like a woman in years. She felt sexy, desired, and the lust she saw in Golden’s eyes fueled her into showing him so.

  As Golden undressed, Spice helped him, telling him how she loved the scent of his skin. In turn, he told her how beautiful her body was, and he touched her here, and kissed her there, and they fell into bed.

  Spice lay on her back and reached for the man she loved. The ecstatic joy expressed on his face when he sank deeply within her was well worth the wait. Their bodies locked in blissful harmony, blending, adjusting, and blending once again. They were synchronized and moved as one, riding the crest of ultimate passion until they were spent.

  When he entered her again, her body was languid, floating, like the rippling sound of the lake outside. The sweat on their bodies fell like dewdrops upon their skin, which quivered gently and tingled until the beads of water rolled down, down, stopping at the tips of their toes. They moved, rotated, and pushed, sending the beads of sweat back upward on another journey, making love until both were exhausted.

  While Golden caught his breath, Spice reached into her suitcase and br
ought a small bag to the bed. It was full of fresh mint from her garden. The sweet perfume was overpowering. She broke off a piece, crushed the leaves in her hand, and rubbed it over her cheek and mouth, relishing the cool taste of mint on her lips; then she pressed the crushed leaves on her bare breasts.

  When they came together again, colors, sounds, and the moment opened up as if they were Adam and Eve in a rain forest. There was nothing to prove, no one to be better than the two of them.

  They slept, locked in bliss.

  The next morning, a storm was brewing outside. The terrifying beauty of cerulean blue and iridescent silver phantom bursts of waves slashed and crashed with a fortissimo of percussion that awakened the honeymoon couple.

  Spice looked out at the storm and felt a bad vibe deep inside. Something was wrong. She got out of bed while Golden was still dozing. She tried to shake the bad feelings by taking a shower. The rush of water on her body felt invigorating, causing her to think back on the last conversation she’d had with Carmen before leaving for her honeymoon. Spice smiled to herself as she dried off, remembering.

  “I remember when I was a petite size seven. I’m not small anymore,” Spice had said, turning away from the mirror.

  “Last time I checked, men weren’t concerned about how small their women were, because they all knew one size fits all.”

  “You devil, you,” Spice had teased, looping an arm through Carmen’s as they’d left the bedroom and walked down the hallway to the living room.

  “Got any gray hairs down there yet?” Carmen had queried.

  “A few. How about you?”

  “Loaded with them. But I think it’s cute.”

  “I can’t seem to picture me and Golden together yet—I mean sexually, that is.”

  Carmen had been silent for a moment. “Why can’t you see Golden as a man? As your lover?”

  “Golden taught me about my salvation, my redemption. Even though I know he’s a man first, my mind won’t give up the glorified vision I have of him as a preacher. Yet there is also the special bond that we’ve shared, a chemistry that was instantaneous.”

  “You’re telling me that it was love at first sight?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t believe in that bullshit.”

  “And I never believed in it, either, until it happened to me.” Spice had sucked in her stomach and held it. “Do you think Golden will think I’m too old?” she had added nervously.

  “Do you?”

  “I’m still not comfortable with him yet. How will he feel when I’m fifty and he’s forty-two?”

  “You ain’t got nothing to worry about. One thing about a woman’s vagina is that it don’t wrinkle.”

  “They don’t?”

  “I ain’t seen a wrinkled one yet.”

  Spice hoped that Carmen would move home soon and take her old job back. But she would be patient—as long as it took for her friend to feel and be independent. Her job and apartment would be waiting.

  Smiling now as she slipped on her dress, she heard Golden shifting, awakening in their bed. It was a new experience between them, something that she’d have to get used to. A sound she knew she would always want to hear.

  Spice lifted her eyes, feeling Golden once again watching her. She rose and felt the silky silver ribbons from her whisper-thin garters caress her naked thighs under her long black dress. With every step she felt her power building. Their eyes met. She captivated him—they both knew it.

  And Spice remembered the conversation they’d had eight days earlier. They had been discussing trust. He was overwhelmed when she told him that it was difficult for her to trust anybody. With all that was happening now, Spice wanted to confide in her husband the last secret. She wanted to trust him, but still she held back.

  Golden had told her, “I trust those who trust me. More important, I trust those who have no faith in me because what I give, I receive twofold.”

  “I don’t have any idea how I can learn to trust again,” Spice had said.

  His answer was simple. “Like a child.”

  Imagine a young woman afraid of love for most of her life. Imagine a woman who never knew where she came from—who had just now, for the first time, discovered faith, learned its strength, and experienced for a second time what it felt like to be in love—yet still needing to hold back. Restraints created in the past tainted her present. She had to break out of them; perhaps Golden’s love would free her.

  Later, after the newlyweds had dressed and gone downstairs to the dining room, Spice told Golden of her feelings about something being wrong at home. He volunteered to call for her. He assured her that her hysteria wasn’t warranted, even though the storm had revved up since the early morning.

  So she sat now alone at the table in the near vacant dining room of the Grand Hotel and witnessed the storm in two dimensions: surrounded by mirrored columns in a room whose walls were windows, she looked out on destruction.

  While she waited for Golden, Spice could hear electric wires whipping against the hotel’s exterior and witnessed high-voltage wires spewing from downed power lines. Winds had forced the wires to become dangerous dangling strings at the mercy of the elements. A generator temporarily provided power. Couples had dispersed themselves throughout the airy hall, seated at candlelit tables, watching in awe the spectacular show outside. As the couples chatted, beads of molten wax trickled down the sides of their candles like slowly rolling tears. The great hall was filled with the candles’ wild-cherry scent.

  Turning up the volume on the radio public address speakers, the hotel manager said, “Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen. Your attention, please . . .”

  The voice reported, “Just one hour ago, a young girl, between the ages of fifteen and eighteen, went unnoticed by the police and was killed by the sheer power of the winds while attempting to cross the Mackinac Bridge. With wind gusts producing ten-foot waves along the coast, the Coast Guard has issued a warning to remain inside until the storm passes.”

  Spice turned to find a bellman handing her a fax. She read it just as Golden returned:

  “Mink relapsing in hospital. Asking for you. Come home as soon as you can. Dwight.”

  In temporary shock, Spice was unable to speak. Then she said anxiously, “Mink was okay when I left. The doctor told me not to worry. I have to get home.”

  Golden went directly to the phone and started making calls.

  Twenty minutes later, her nerves on edge, Spice slipped an arm around her husband’s shoulder and felt the warmth of his cheek touching her. Then she asked hesitantly, “Still no luck?”

  “Not yet,” he whispered, covering the mouthpiece. “Trust me. I’ll get us off this island. Don’t worry, I’m praying that Mink is okay.” He went on calling.

  From across the room, Spice watched Golden at the bank of telephones. Sensing her, he looked up, and for a split second their eyes met. They smiled in unison, but just as he turned away, she saw the defeat in his eyes. There was no way they could leave the island—they were trapped.

  After several hours on the phone, Golden finally reached someone back in Detroit who would risk the flight to come get them. Spice was relieved but frightened. “Is it too dangerous, Golden?”

  “I’m not going to mislead you, Spice, but as I see it, we need to go. This storm could last several days. I know this man—he’s an excellent pilot. We’ll be in good hands.”

  Spice thought back to the joy of the night before the puzzling intuition had come. She knew she could trust those vibes in the pit of her stomach. She half smiled. She could just imagine her daughters teasing her about being psychic.

  Two hours later, as they flew over the depths of Lake Michigan, Spice felt as if someone were speaking to her, warning her of her imminent suffering, one heartbeat at a time. So she tried to focus on the memory of last night, when she’d heard the thunder the first time and seen Golden’s body loving hers, that felt like, that began like, that sounded like . . . music.

 
When Spice and Golden arrived in Detroit, they went directly to Chamberlain Hospital to see her daughter. Mink was so doped up with medication, she couldn’t speak. Her psychopharmacologist told Spice that they’d begun reducing Mink’s dosages, but that had caused her to relapse. Mink’s psychiatrist was also present. He said little. Spice could tell the doctors were holding back on her.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “Well, she tried to hurt herself.”

  Spice felt her heart sink. Her daughter’s pain was unimaginable. How could she be so helpless?

  “She stopped swallowing medication, which of course is why she relapsed. An orderly luckily found the stash of pills when he was cleaning up.”

  “Oh, my God,” Spice cried.

  She tried to be patient as the doctor assured her that the trauma of the plane crash, coupled with her upcoming divorce from her husband, was more devastating to Mink’s mind than anyone had expected.

  Spice left an hour later, moving numbly to her car. How could a woman as strong as Mink suddenly break? The doctors were wrong. Mink’s problems went deeper.

  The doctors told Spice that Mink was experiencing a sense of personal inadequacy, disillusionment, and depression. Spice knew her daughter’s pain about the divorce must be ripping her apart. If Mink only knew that Dwight had never really left her. What was it Carmen had said in that long-ago meeting? Through suffering we learn wisdom. . . . If only that were true for Mink.

  Dwight was there from day one after the crash. He’d taken a leave of absence from work and moved back home. The custody issue was a moot point at the moment. He brought Azure home and got his house in order. Erma was back. Without saying so, Dwight showed that he had no intention of complying with Mink’s suit for divorce.

  Spice had always thought of Dwight as the son she’d never had, and he proved it now. Without his dedication to their marriage, his love for Mink, Spice wouldn’t have been able to rest, knowing that her child was experiencing so much pain. So, having felt that she’d done all she could for Mink, she left her daughter in Dwight’s capable hands.