Mercy, Mercy Me

by Ronn Elmore

  “I ran out so fast, I didn’t clean up.” She lifted a red and white afghan from the floor.

  Dwayne glanced around the living room. Except for the afghan, there was nothing out of place. “What are you talking about? It’s fine.”

  She smiled. “At least, I should have turned off the radio.” She moved toward the curio.

  “No, it sounds nice. Leave it on.”

  She reduced the volume and motioned him toward the couch. “Some tea?”

  “That’s fine.”

  As Nina opened and closed kitchen cabinets, Dwayne settled onto the couch and looked around the room. Though the space was laid out like a typical two-bedroom apartment, there was nothing ordinary about what Nina had done with the nine hundred square feet. The centerpiece of the large living room was a cream-colored 1940s high-style sofa flanked by cocoa-colored chairs with walnut arms. The walnut curio had probably been specially designed to fit the wall it perfectly stood against. A three-tiered walnut coffee table sat in the middle of the room. Cream silk curtains on the French doors that led to a small balcony matched the deep-piled carpet that Dwayne figured had to date from Nina’s television-star days.

  “Milk or lemon?” she asked as she returned from the kitchen with two brown teacups and a sugar bowl on a wicker-trimmed tray.

  “Just sugar is fine, Nina.”

  She sat next to him on the couch. “Isn’t that a great shot of Omari?”

  “It’s amazing how much he looks like you.” Dwayne put down the framed picture of the precocious seven-year-old.

  “Thanks.” She leaned back, gingerly holding her cup.

  “I have a question,” he said, looking again at the picture. “You can tell me if I’m getting too personal, but where’s his father?”

  The question caught Nina off guard. Not that she hadn’t expected him to ask. Frankly, she’d thought he would ask way before now. It didn’t matter; she wouldn’t have known what to say before, and still didn’t know now.

  “I don’t know.” She looked down. “He walked out on me when Omari was a year old. I haven’t seen or heard from him since.”

  “Does Omari ask about him?”

  “Oh, he used to… but not anymore. Did you ever want to have children?” she inquired.

  The dark veil that suddenly covered his eyes made Nina regret her question. Before Dwayne could respond, she said, “You know, we should get started.” She stood and, still holding her cup, walked to the small round table that separated the living room from the kitchen. “We can work over here.”

  Dwayne followed and they sat at the table, silently sipping tea and avoiding each other’s eyes. It was a comfortable rhythm they’d developed over the past months. And for the next hour or so, it continued as they tossed ideas back and forth, whizzing through the unfolding program outlines, developing a schedule and topical ideas for the church workshop on relationships that would merge their two groups into one big conference session. Lastly, they established a budget to present to the board.

  Dwayne looked at his watch. Ten-thirty. Not bad. Only thirty minutes past his self-imposed deadline.

  “Well, I have an early morning and—” he began, rising to leave, but he stopped midsentence and began bobbing his head to the Marvin Gaye cut that had just begun on the “Old School” station Nina kept her radio dial set to. Dwayne was surprised by the playful mood that seemed to have come over him spontaneously. “Do you remember this jam?”

  For the briefest instant Nina was taken aback. Then, smiling her recognition, she scooted over to her sound system and turned up the volume as the signature Motown bassline reverberated throughout the room.

  “‘Mercy, Mercy Me’ was my song,” she said, recalling the lyrics and snapping her fingers, “especially when I was going through all my drama. For the longest time I thought it was a church song Marvin was singing.”

  “You probably weren’t even born when the song came out.”

  Nina rolled her eyes but continued swaying to the music. “I didn’t have to be, because Marvin sang it again and again and again …”

  Dwayne pushed his chair away from the table and joined Nina. As the tune continued, Nina and Dwayne swayed and dipped, each trying to outdo the other.

  “Look at the old man.” Nina giggled, raising her arms above her head.

  “Who you calling old?” Dwayne replied, matching her moves.

  They laughed and danced to the last note, then fell onto the couch, taking the next few minutes to catch their breath.

  “That was one of my favorite songs. Yvette’s too.”

  Nina didn’t know if she was supposed to speak or smile. She chose the latter.

  “The thing is, she just died so suddenly …”

  “An accident?” Nina treaded softly, remembering what she’d heard at church.

  “Killed instantly,” he went on. “She had just called me at the office to say there was something she had to tell me. I didn’t know it, but she was pregnant. That was her news.”

  Nina gasped and gently touched his arm. ”Dwayne, I’m sorry.”

  He acknowledged her words and dropped his eyes.

  “Dwayne, at least you know that the last moments of Yvette’s life were happy ones. She was carrying your child.”

  He opened his mouth, then shut it suddenly without a word escaping. He couldn’t tell Nina he had no idea what Yvette might have been thinking.

  “Dwayne?”

  He opened his eyes and was surprised to see Nina leaning close to him. She did care more than she’d let on, after all. His hand rose to her cheek and his heart melted as she closed her eyes and pressed her face into his palm. Slowly, yet determinedly, he moved in toward her until his lips met hers. It was a tender, delicate kiss, but it felt familiar and altogether right. It was Nina who pulled back first, only slightly, allowing just inches of air to hang between them. His hand still held her face and she could feel his breath on her lips.

  “I’d better go,” he whispered without moving.

  He stared at her mouth and resisted returning his lips to the spot where he’d felt whole again. Long moments passed, and still they had not moved. Finally, Dwayne inched forward, but paused when Nina pulled back slightly and lowered her head. He could tell something was wrong. But what? He removed his hand, letting the tips of his fingers linger briefly on her skin. Dwayne stood, but her head was still bowed, her eyes turned away.

  “I’ll leave the notes with you.” His voice was husky as he reached for his jacket and slipped into it. Still Nina did not raise her head. Slowly, he lifted her chin with his fingertips, forcing her to look into his eyes.

  “Thank you, Nina.”

  The lump in her throat stopped her words.

  “I’ll speak to you tomorrow.” He turned away and walked to the door.

  Though she wasn’t looking, Nina could feel Dwayne pause before he stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind him.

  She stood and walked to the window, watching as he trotted to his car. She knew he felt her gaze; she was just thankful that he couldn’t see the tears forming in her eyes. So far, she was surviving the cancer that had completely turned her life inside out, but she wasn’t altogether sure what the future held. She’d survived by keeping her life as uncomplicated as possible, by keeping her emotions—and romantic entanglements—at a safe distance. She couldn’t afford to slacken her resolve now. Besides, she had to be strong for Omari. Her plans did not include the complications that were part and parcel of developing a relationship—especially one that involved a man who’d already experienced a devastating loss.

  Her doctor had encouraged her to move forward with her life—that all necessary precautions had been taken. That there was no imminent threat of her losing her life or a breast. “At least, not now,” the doctor had said as he clasped her breast. The dark cloud of a possible mastectomy down the road brought a wave of anxiety. She breathed deeply, reciting, “By his stripes, I am healed.”

  And while she fel
t better, she was more resolved than ever that there could be nothing between her and Dwayne. At least, not now.

  The concierge smiled as he opened the door for Dwayne. “I recognize that tune.”

  “What?” Dwayne stopped.

  “Marvin Gaye, right?”

  Dwayne hadn’t even realized he was whistling. Once inside his apartment, he turned on the lights but left off the stereo. He didn’t need any music tonight. His mind was completely occupied by Nina. That kiss had been long overdue, pushing its way from the background where they had both hoped it would stay. He stood in front of the bathroom mirror, and for the first time since Yvette’s death, he could say his smile was genuine.

  The memory of Nina’s lips lingered when he climbed into bed. Their kiss had been gentle and sweet, but the intensity made him feel alive again. Nina had begun awakening passion in him a long time ago. First professionally and now personally. Dwayne lay silently, reflecting on the past, wondering how to step forward to the future. Should they talk about it? He shook his head. No, it should just progress naturally.

  He glanced at the clock—approaching midnight. He would only get six hours of sleep now, but what he felt inside would ease any morning exhaustion. Dwayne rolled over onto his stomach and closed his eyes. He couldn’t wait to see Nina tomorrow.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Cassandra, a high-powered entertainment law attorney, had sought Dwayne’s counseling services because she was convinced that her husband, Carl, one of Hollywood’s top black executives (and “all other guys I dated before marrying him”) were insensitive, lazy, and thoroughly resistant to giving a loving and supportive Christian woman like herself the high-performance love she needed. She frequently used words like “trifling,” “inconsistent,” “selfish,” and “undermotivated” to describe her man in particular—and all men in general.

  According to Cassandra, Carl wasn’t taking adequate care of one thing or wasn’t following through on another. He didn’t take her feelings into consideration and was completely oblivious to her efforts to beautify herself and their home. And, of course, Cassandra voiced the number one most common complaint of all Dwayne’s female clients: “He just refuses to share his feelings with me.”

  Dwayne had heard it all before. Whether it was about money or parenting or the division of responsibilities or communication or sex or dating habits or even getting to church on time, Cassandra was only expressing the frustrations of countless girlfriends and wives (and countless more ex-girlfriends and ex-wives) everywhere: “Why won’t my man do what he’s supposed to do? I’ve tried everything.”

  After Cassandra had gotten adequate time to vent and complain, Dwayne, as always, informed her there was, in fact, something she could do that could ignite a fire under even a “semicomatose” (her word) man like hers.

  “Whatever the behavior is that you deserve from him, lavish your applause and commendation on him when he does it, even the least little bit.”

  “You mean, that’s it? That’s the secret?”

  “It won’t happen overnight, but start making it a practice, and before long, you’ll begin to see a difference.”

  Dwayne looked at his watch. It was eleven-thirty. He would have to leave now in order to be on time for his lunch with Nina.

  Cassandra picked up the cue and they closed out the session, gathered up their things, and he walked her to the elevator, bidding Monique good-bye. Exactly twenty minutes later, he was shifting in his seat, feeling like a fourteen-year-old on his first date. He didn’t know why he felt that way. This wasn’t a date. He’d simply invited Nina for lunch when he’d called her that morning. She’d sounded strangely stiff, but he chalked it up to the same nervousness he’d been feeling. Perhaps this talk would be the perfect icebreaker.

  He scanned the Beverly Hills Cheesecake Factory, but Nina was nowhere in sight. Maybe she’d gotten stuck in traffic. Or maybe she had changed her mind. As he thought about it now, what he’d interpreted as nervousness this morning could have been doubt.

  “Hello, Dwayne.”

  He looked up, not having seen her come in. He stood and pulled out the chair next to him.

  Nina looked at him with a slight smile as he leaned over to kiss her cheek. They sat, and Nina immediately picked up the menu.

  “Busy morning?”

  “A bit,” she answered, her face hidden behind the enormous two-fold card.

  Dwayne opened his mouth, then closed it when Nina didn’t look up. He picked up his menu and pretended to scan the lunch items. It was odd, this disconcerting air that suspended between them. They’d become very comfortable together, but it was clear the relationship had changed. He was sure it was momentary. After this lunch, they’d get back to where they’d been—only on a different level.

  “Do you know what you want?” Dwayne asked.

  For the first time since she’d come in, Nina looked directly at him. “I’m not very hungry.”

  Aha. The flutters in his stomach had almost taken away his appetite as well. He looked down at her hands, which lay gently in front of her. But before he could reach across the table, she pulled back, hiding her hands on her lap.

  “We don’t have to stay here,” he said, suddenly fidgeting in his chair. “We can go for a walk or anything else you’d like to do.”

  The ends of her lips slipped upward. His considerate nature was one of the first things she’d noticed—from the night of the party. She remembered how he’d treated her with care and consideration. Then it struck her like lightning—the memory of what she was here to do. “No, I have to eat something,” she said, smoothing her hand over the sleeve of her suit as if she were distracted. “Maybe I’ll have soup or a salad.”

  Neither noticed the waitress approach the table.

  “I’ll just have the asparagus-walnut soup,” she said.

  Dwayne said, “I’ll have the same and the seafood Caesar salad. And tea for both of us.” He looked at Nina for her approval.

  She dropped her gaze as the waitress left with the orders.

  “I wanted to talk to you,” they said simultaneously.

  Dwayne laughed; Nina only smiled.

  “You first,” Dwayne said.

  Nina took a deep breath. “I never expected what happened last night,” she said softly, her fingernail tracing the red lines in the tablecloth.

  “Are you talking about our kiss?”

  When Nina looked up, his eyes were sparkling, teasing her.

  “You can’t tell me you were totally surprised,” Dwayne said.

  His words made her think back to all the times they’d come close, probably more times than he even realized. She shook her head no.

  “Exactly.” He moved his chair closer to her. “You have to admit, there’s been… tension between us. Is something wrong? Are you concerned about how it’s going to affect our working together? I don’t want what happened to get in the way …”

  She should have been relieved, but it felt like he had tugged at her heart. His words told her that he didn’t want a relationship either. It was only then that she realized she’d held hope that maybe they’d had a chance. She shook her head to rid her mind of those thoughts. “Well, this shouldn’t affect our working together. We’re two adults.”

  “Who got caught in the moment …”

  “Exactly. We understand what happened.”

  “Like you said, it’s been coming for a long time.”

  “And we should just look at it for what it’s worth and move on.”

  Dwayne was prepared to respond, but then closed his mouth and frowned. He paused. “Well, for what it’s worth, it meant a lot to me.”

  Nina’s frown matched Dwayne’s. Her heart felt like it was beating a hole through her chest.

  Dwayne covered her hands with his. “I don’t know where this is going,” he whispered. “But you awakened something in me, Nina.”

  As he spoke, her face softened with desire. But as his words seeped in, Nina’s resolve b
ecame all the more clear—she could not spring the cancer on Dwayne, nor was she one hundred percent sure of what Dwayne really wanted. He didn’t seem too sure himself. She stiffened up and said sharply, “Dwayne, there is no way we can have a relationship.”

  “Nina, I could tell when we kissed that you felt …”

  She held her hands over her mouth to hide the trembling of her lips. “I can’t do this,” she said, fleeing from the table before Dwayne could stand.

  “Nina, wait,” he called, finally rising. His chair fell backward as he stood abruptly, but it was too late. She was already gone.

  Nina searched her purse for the parking ticket and took a deep breath, willing her hands to stop trembling. Then she remembered the ticket in her pants pocket. By the time she finally screeched from the lot, her heart was beating so fast she could hardly breathe.

  As she moved slowly through the streets, she played the restaurant scene over in her mind. Dwayne was probably going out of his mind. How could she get things back to where they had been? She could have kicked herself. What could she do now? As she continued driving, she searched her mind for answers. Then it hit her.

  She ran a few errands, and by the time she turned onto the church parking lot a little more than an hour later, she had a plan.

  The way she figured it, if their lunch date could have gone normally, then by now they would have agreed that any personal relationship would not be good for business. She knew Dwayne would have agreed. The ministry was too important—mixing church matters with personal affairs never worked. People would be in their business; it would be complicated… She’d had a complete list to convince him. But her intentions had gone astray. Unexpected emotions had arisen inside. Her new plan was this: She would call him and say what she had to say. The phone would keep distance between them and would prevent unexpected emotions from arising.