There was a moment when Marlea’s leg trembled and took on a defiant sweep. Fearing failure, she gave in to it. She leaned forward against him, her cheek brushing his, in complete trust. They both listened and succumbed to a rush of stringed instruments, crooning vocals, and the wail of what seemed like a clarinet under exquisite torture. She felt his breath in sync with hers as he moved with and between her steps, anticipating ending perfectly together on the last note of the song.
Now how am I supposed to balance this? “What are we doing?”
“We’re dancing,” AJ whispered, guiding her gently.
Dance is a vertical expression of a horizontal desire; George Bernard Shaw said that, Marlea recalled. Wonder if AJ knows that.
Still holding her, AJ stopped moving. “Maybe we should start this from the beginning.”
“I’m confused,” Marlea admitted, trying not to grip his hard body.
“You know that walking, dancing, finding the natural grace you were born with, it’s all a part of who you are. Whatever we do has to be functional.”
“Dancing has a function?” The Shaw quote came to her mind again, and she hoped he didn’t feel the shimmer of her nerves, but she had no intention of moving from where she stood.
“Socially,” AJ paused. “What if you were on a date?”
Okay, enough of this. Marlea took a step back from him and reluctantly dropped her arms. “I don’t date much, and I don’t think anyone is going to ask me to dance. It’s kind of hard to get your boogie on with a cane.”
“You did pretty well on that treadmill without a cane.”
“That was different.” Turning slowly, she made her way to the chair she had started from.
“But what if, Marlea? What if this were a date? What would you expect from me?”
Hardly daring to look over her shoulder, Marlea kept moving. “This is silly.” Sitting hard, she wrapped her arms around her body and looked away from him. I don’t know, AJ. What would a woman expect from a man like you? What did Bianca Coltrane expect from you?
“We could start with this.”
Looking up, Marlea saw AJ’s extended hand holding a little blue wildflower. Where did he get…She remembered the ceramic vase by the door, the one he had stood next to watching her walking on the treadmill.
“You gonna leave a brother hangin’?” He held the flower closer.
Remembering the first time she had heard him say those words, Marlea pressed her lips together, keeping the smile to herself, she was determined to keep that hospital room and her stay at Grady a distant memory. “What’s this for?”
“If this were a date, I would bring you flowers.” They both looked at the single blossom. “Okay, spur of the moment. I brought you flower, a flower.”
“Thank you.” The silly smile broke free and Marlea accepted the flower. “What next?”
“I might…” AJ looked around the room. “I might bring you a gift, too…something I know you like.”
“The flower wasn’t a gift?”
“Not exactly. Pretty women deserve flowers.”
She passed a hand over her ponytail, tucking in stray hairs as if it wasn’t too late for him to notice. “Just for being pretty?” Wonder if he bought truckloads of flowers for Bianca Coltrane?
“Something like that.” Smiling, he held up a finger and backed away from her. Reaching the side table, he picked up something and held it behind his back as he walked toward Marlea.
“What is it?” She tried to read his face, gave up, and bent to try to see what he hid.
“M&Ms!” she squealed when he held his hand out. Grabbing the bag, she ripped it open, tossed a few into her mouth, then thought better of it and offered the bag. “I guess I could share.”
AJ refused. “Would you like a drink?”
“No, thank you.” Marlea bit down on more candy, studying AJ as she chewed. “Why?”
“Because if this were a date, we would share something, and I can’t think of a lot of things more intimate between two people. When a man is with a woman, she has to know that he thinks of her, has to think of her. He has to be as willing to know what she wants and needs as he is willing to have her anticipate and meet his needs.”
“I don’t want anything.” Marlea dropped her eyes and shifted in her chair. “The question is, what do you want? What is this leading up to?”
“We were going to dance, remember?” AJ moved to the small gray wall panel. Touching buttons, he waited for the softly changed music to fill the air around them. “I want my dance.”
Marlea folded the tip down on her bag of M&Ms. She tucked the bag between her leg and the chair and waited. The music was soft and soothing, almost too intimate, and it made her want to move with it. “I know this song.” She tried to remember the artist and the words.
Turn out the lights, and light a candle…Teddy Pendergrass.
“Is make-out music a part of my therapy?”
“No way,” AJ grinned, opening his arms to her. “Remember what I told you about core training. The slow transfer of weight will aid in the balance you’re eventually going to use for running.”
“Dancing as functional training. What happened to, ‘if this was a date’?”
“First things first.”
“Why not?” Placing her hand in his, Marlea stepped into his arms. The familiar sense of urgency began where her hand met his and grew, spreading warm, then hot and sacred as it headed to her core. Eyes closed, her breath fast, Marlea gave in to the music and the man who held her. Her body softened against his and suddenly, she knew. “It was honesty, wasn’t it?”
His cheek moved against her hair. A single broad palm braced her back as he held her close, and she knew without question that she was right. She saw the whip of pain in his eyes. It only lasted for a second, telling what words could not. Marlea’s feet stopped and she stood, breast to chest, with AJ. “It was honesty that broke you apart, wasn’t it?”
AJ looked away first. Dropping his eyes, still holding Marlea close, he shook his head. “I should have known that Rissa couldn’t keep her mouth shut.”
“It wasn’t Rissa. I saw the engagement announcement in the scrapbook.” Marlea dropped her head to his shoulder and looked up at him. “I saw it and I did the math. Do you still see her?”
His feet began to move again, slower this time, searching for the music. “Yeah, occasionally,” he finally said. His voice was husky and filled with unspoken words. “It’s not the same, though. It’ll never be the same.”
“You value honesty that much, that you would give up everything for it?”
He sighed. “Without honesty, what would we have? I was ready to hand my life over to that woman, Marlea. She would have been my wife, the one I was meant to turn to in the best and the worst of times. She would have been the mother of our children…”
I like how he said ‘our’ children.
“Bianca’s loyalties never lay with me; they were always with my bankbook—or the one that was bigger.” He pulled Marlea closer. “You know how it is when people say and do whatever they think will get them what they want from you.” He moved with Marlea in his arms, his breath soft against her sleek hair and she wondered if he felt the shivers rippling beneath her skin. “Yeah, it was honesty that broke us apart.”
“You really value honesty that much?” Maybe I should tell him…
“Yeah, I do. Don’t you?”
AJ’s eyes changed again as he found Marlea’s, and she wondered what that woman had done to hurt him. Warm and trusting, there was an unplanned innocence that she found hard to deny. Her fingers tightened in his grasp and she nodded.
“You know, uh…” Part of her mind was screaming loud and reverberating denials, but her heart urged her forward. Marlea went with her heart. “Since we’re talking about honesty, I need to tell you something.”
He looked at her, and her once brave heart began to beat like a hummingbird’s wings.
“Do you remember when I…gave you
such a hard time about the therapy, especially in the beginning?”
“Do I ever.”
AJ turned them in a small circle, making her a little dizzy. Okay, I guess I could blame this on being dizzy…“There was a reason.” She waited. He waited. She took it as a signal to continue. “AJ, I know you know what phantom limb pain is, but did you know that sometimes people get phantom limb orgasms?” She held her breath.
“Oh.” AJ kept dancing. “How long?”
He’s taking that better than I thought he would. “Since the very first time.”
“Oh.” The music changed, and still holding her in his arms, AJ kept dancing. “Still?”
Marlea nodded. “Still.”
His feet stopped, but he didn’t release her and she had no urge to go. “You could have told me, Marlea. You should have told me. It all makes sense now, but I thought you hated me.”
“I don’t hate you,” she said sheepishly, resting in his arms.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Now you’re just talking crazy.” Marlea sucked her teeth. “How was I supposed to say that to you?”
“You could have trusted me to understand.”
“You were a stranger, and I was dealing with something way out of my usual experience,” she said. “You’re a nice man, AJ, and a really good dancer, but can I tell you something else now?” He nodded. “I’m getting pretty tired.”
“Sorry. We dance so well together, that I forgot how tired you must be,” AJ grinned.
“Yes, I’m really beat, but…dancing with you was nice.”
His lips never moved, but his eyes said something Marlea couldn’t translate. Wishing him closer and afraid to hold on, she felt like a fool. He’s like no other man I’ve ever known.
With most of the men she had known, she had always felt obliged to be less in the effort to make them feel like more. But with AJ there was an undeniable willingness of spirit, wholeness, and the interest it takes to be a part of someone else’s life. When someone gives you something as special as this man is giving me, makes you feel as special as he is making me feel, what do you do? I could say…“Thank you for the date, AJ. This is the best date I’ve had since…forever. I want to give you something.”
Reaching behind her head, she pulled the band from her hair. Long and thick, her hair fell to her shoulders. A perfect frame for the coppery oval of her face, it shielded her from him. Taking his hand between hers, she slipped it over his hand to his wrist. “My kids made this for me. I wore it when I ran my best 400, and I want you to have it.”
“I don’t know what to say, Marlea.” He turned his wrist beneath her hand. “This has to be precious to you.”
“You gave me a flower and M&Ms, and a chance to dance. That’s precious to me. The band is from my running, my past. Up until tonight, it was one of the most precious things I owned. Tonight, you gave me this date and a little taste of my future. That’s precious to me, too.”
“Does that mean our date is over? It’s still early. Are you saying goodnight to me?”
“For now.”
She saw him, knew that his face was coming closer, and she made no effort to get out of the way. Her arms rose of their own accord, her fingers locking behind his head, then pulling herself closer, Marlea met him more than halfway. Slowly, her lips brushed the corner of his mouth. Letting her lips find his, the sudden sweet crush of his lips challenged her, distancing control and reason. Questing tongues steered them toward an unspoken destination, and they both went willingly. Surrender should have sought a different name. In his arms, Marlea claimed as much as she gave. Holding her, AJ could not have asked for more.
It took energy, time, and the need to breathe to separate them.
“You’re a really good kisser,” Marlea admired.
“This surprises you?” AJ teased.
“No, what surprised me is that you’re really a good dancer. It makes me wonder what else you’re good at.”
He kissed her again, slower this time. “You let me know when you’re ready to find out.”
* * *
She was gone, but he could still feel her. The little band from her hair seemed to carry an intimate hint of who she really was. It surprised AJ how much he wanted to feel deserving of her trust. He remembered the last time he cared so much about what a woman thought of him.
Bianca.
I got down on my knees and asked for her hand in marriage, like some sucker in a fairy tale, and look where that got me.
Kicked in the teeth—and more than once.
He wrapped the band around his fingers and almost thought he could feel Marlea’s ebbing warmth. Dancing with her had been therapy—for both of them. Holding her in his arms felt like the most natural thing on earth. Letting her go had been harder than he would have ever imagined.
Out of thin air, he remembered sitting at the table with her on her first afternoon at the house. They had watched Rissa and Dench make their silly bet, and he had told Marlea that they were in love and didn’t have the sense to know it.
She laughed and said that she couldn’t imagine being in love and not knowing it.
AJ’s fingers caressed the hair band and he sighed. Maybe Rissa and Dench aren’t the only ones.
Chapter 21
“Man, this is almost like planning a war.” AJ pushed his chair back from the table and stretched. “To tell the truth, when I volunteered for this, I figured all I would have to do was pose for some pictures and write a check.”
“In your dreams,” Harriet Blake laughed, tugging her green printed blouse down over her hips. The sound of her laughter was a lot like Harriet—big, round, solid. Brown-skinned and full-breasted, hers wasn’t exactly the body type most people would picture in a road race, but everybody in AJ’s library that morning knew that Harriet Blake didn’t hesitate to put her foot where her true heart was. The woman would run for anything that would benefit man or womankind.
“I told you up front that this was going to take a lot of work, and what did you say to me? You said,” Harriet deepened her voice, “you said, ‘I’m up to it. I’m fully committed.’ Those were your exact words, if I remember correctly—and I’m sure that I do.” She plopped an elbow on the desktop and laughed again. “But at least we’re getting the Hammond House for this.”
The historic Victorian house in Atlanta’s West End would be perfect for the reception. Dedicated as a museum, the beautiful old building housed an exceptional African-American art collection. The carefully landscaped backyard was large enough to hold a tent for the anticipated overflow crowd.
Sitting back in his chair and holding a gold-rimmed china saucer daintily beneath his coffee cup, Charles Wade said, “She still hasn’t told us why it has to be held in a tent.”
“It’s September in Atlanta,” Harriet said, as though that explained everything.
Charles frowned, prissy to a fault. Unconvinced, he added, “She hasn’t told us how they’re going to hang chandeliers in the tent and keep it cool enough for a thousand people to mill around in there, or why we need to decorate the rooms with topiary, either.”
“It’s decoration to set the mood, hon. That’s what party planners are for,” Sophia Edwards soothed, motioning Harriet to be quiet. “I’ve gotten volunteer commitments on everything, including manpower. We will be serving a full buffet supper, and we are going to have china dishes and real silverware and crystal glasses for the drinks. I’ve buttonholed every business and service provider I can think of to make sure of it. We’re going to set an appropriate tone for this event, and it will be reflected in the bottom line.” She gave Wade’s almond-skinned arm a solicitous pat. “It’s all going to be just fine, Charles. I have everything well in hand. You’ll see.”
He grumbled something unintelligible, clearly not pacified.
Mitch Foster strolled back to the table from his place by the windows. A small man, quiet and compact, he seemed to take comfort from viewing the gardens whenever he attended one of t
hese meetings at AJ’s home. “It seems that we’re finished with detailing race logistics, staff, and sponsors. Am I right?”
“Unless you know of someone who wants to lace up his shoes and run this thing for me,” Harriet snickered. Charles Wade groaned. “Or if they don’t want to run, they could pick me up in a limo, or maybe a stretch Hummer,” Harriet said.
“We don’t have those kinds of sponsors, babe.” Sophia’s long nails flashed dismissal.
AJ dropped his chin into his hand and waited. “Ladies?” Sophia and Harriet turned to flutter their lashes in his direction.
“This is why this thing takes a year to plan,” Charles reminded everyone.
“Before we break up, I just want to do a final review of our donors.” Mitch opened a bright yellow folder. He passed a clutch of stapled sheets to everyone around the table. “This is my final list. I just want to make sure that none of you can think of a name to add.”
Even Charles Wade admitted that the list looked complete, and Harriet and Sophia were impressed by some of the names from the entertainment world.
“Omigod, looka here!” Sophia screeched, honing in on a name among the Ws. “I know he’s got a daughter at Spelman, but do you really think he’ll show up to run in our little race?” She sighed like a schoolgirl. “I’ve loved him since he was on television.”
“Ooh, girl, yeah. I remember when he was on ER. He was so young and so fine.”
“Now he’s got an Oscar, and he’s just grown finer with time.” Sophia bit her clenched fist.
“Could you two come back to the here and now?” Charles Wade snapped his fingers under the women’s noses. Trying not to laugh, AJ looked down at his own list.
“We’re up by a couple of thousand early entries,” Mitch explained. “I expect there will be about 1,500 more at the race site that day.”
AJ turned pages. “Man, I remember back when I was still in school and this race was only an 8K, drawing a couple of hundred die-hard runners, total.”
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