by Vera Roberts
“Yes, we are,” Mariana replied.
Deborah nodded again as she put the dishes in the dishwasher. “Do you plan on marrying my Scott?”
“Yes.” Mariana softly replied. She didn’t like where the conversation was heading.
Deborah loaded the dishwasher and turned it on. She rinsed off her hands and dried them. “Has Scott ever told you about his last wedding?”
Mariana surely misheard the Southern woman. “His last wedding?”
“Yes, Scott was planning to get married, a while back.” Deborah nodded. “The wedding never happened. She left him at the altar.”
Mariana was stunned beyond words. Scott never mentioned an engagement or any wedding before. He briefly talked about an ex that introduced him to the lifestyle. It made her wonder what else he was keeping from her. “I…I…I didn’t know that.” She stammered.
“He was going to get married to a woman, a Black girl just like you,” Deborah had to calm her rising temper. Caprina still brought the worst out in her, years later. “I didn’t care she was Black. I didn’t care if she was purple, green or yellow. My Scott was happy and that was it. But when she left him and she was just so…so…so flippant about it…” Deborah grabbed the counter and held it steady. “I just don’t know. Bless her heart.”
Mariana felt she really didn’t know who her boyfriend was. She could’ve been knocked over with a feather.
“It’s not something we all talk about here. None of us want to talk about it, to be frank.” Deborah started a pot of coffee. “But it’s something I felt you should know.”
“Thank you?” Mariana wasn’t sure if that was the proper response.
“I’m telling you this because you should know,” Deborah turned around to face Mariana, “and to make you realize the challenges you have to face from other members of this family.”
Mariana knew Deborah was referring to Christine. “Okay.”
Deborah walked over to Mariana and gave her a warm embrace. “I know you’re good for my son. I haven’t seen him this happy in a very long time. But underneath Scott’s aggressive and detached demeanor, there is a human being there with emotions and feelings. I want you to think about that.”
Mariana smiled. “I will.”
“Good,” Deborah pulled away from Mariana, “now can you do me a favor?”
“Sure, Deborah. What is it?”
“Can you please have another piece of cake? Girl, you need to gain some weight!”
Deborah and Mariana were in the middle of discussing new fashion crazes when Christine abruptly interrupted them. “I would like to have a word with Mariana alone,” she declared.
Deborah looked up at her daughter and let out a soft sigh. She already knew what was going to happen and Christine didn’t have to say one word. “Fine,” Deborah got up and grabbed her plate and coffee, “Mariana, see me when you two are done.”
“Okay,” she replied softly.
Christine waited for her mother to leave the room before she approached Mariana. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”
“Okay, I understand why you don’t like Scott’s ex, but I don’t understand how her actions apply to all Black women?” Mariana stood up. “We’re not all like her.”
Christine sighed. The little girl wanted to know the truth; she was going to give it to her. “Sit,” Christine barked to her.
Mariana didn’t like Christine’s tone but wasn’t in the mood to argue. She sat down at the table and Christine sat across from her. It reminded Mariana of an interrogation. “Years ago, I was a social worker. Social workers don’t get paid much, hardly anything at all. People who go into social work do it for the love, not for the pay. I loved my job. I loved helping people. It was a win-win. But not everyone saw it that way.
“Day after day, week after week, month after month I would get these women…these Black women coming in applying for welfare. Did I care they were Black? No. If people are hard on their luck and need some government assistance, I’m not one to judge. But these women would come in with children by different fathers. They would come in with their hair done and their nails done. They would come in with a new car. They would come in with a new cell phone. They’re talking about how they went out to the club the other night. They’re talking about the new Louis Vuitton they just purchased.
“All the while, they’re sitting at home, collecting checks. Meanwhile, do you know who’s paying for that free ride? I am. You are. We all are. I’m busting my ass trying to make ends meet and some ghetto baby mama is sitting at home watching the umpteenth episode of Maury or appearing on it.
“So when Scott met Caprina, I thought, ‘Hey, this one is different. She has a career, she has her own money, she’s different from everyone.’ And you know what? She wasn’t. Not at all. She wasn’t different in the least bit. She is just like you all. She may have a bit more money and fame but she is as ghetto as they come. I was so disgusted with you all, I quit being a social worker and studied to become a teacher. If I can’t help the ghetto mamas, I will damn sure help their poor children.”
Christine’s words of you all weren’t loss on Mariana as she continued to listen. “So yes, Mariana, if I’m a little harsh, if I’m a little stuck-up…hell, you can call me racist if it makes you sleep at night, then so be it. Because after what I’ve seen and experienced, I don’t like your kind. Not now. Not ever.”
Mariana stared at Christine for a long while. She wasn’t sure if she should feel empathy or anger towards the woman who just might be her sister-in-law one day. She was careful with her next words. “Thank you for your explanation.”
“You wanted one, you got it.” Christine got up and began to leave.
“Oh, we’re not done,” Mariana folded her arms, “you sit.”
Christine spun on her heels. “Excuse me?”
“No, I won’t. You think because a small population of Black women is on welfare, you’re the judge of all of us? That we all have numerous baby daddies? Bitch, you’ve been watching too much damn Maury.
“You don’t like me because I’m Black? Fine. I don’t give a shit. I think it’s comical you feel that way taking the fact your husband probably gets pulled over more than I do on any given Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday for that matter! Here’s a newsflash, Christine: affirmative action was originally created for White women! So I want you to keep that in mind each time you go to work and each time you have to deal with ‘one of us.’”
“Are you done, little girl?” Christine rolled her eyes.
“Yes, I am,” Mariana got up and retrieved her plate and coffee. “I’m going to rejoin your mother, a real woman, in the living room.” She walked over to Christine and whispered in her ear. “And thank you for a very pleasant conversation. You made me all warm and tingly inside. Your brother will certainly appreciate the affection later.”
****
“Man, you are one brave soul,” Hassan lit cigars for him and Scott, “very brave. I mean, I served two tours in Iraq but the shit you pulled tonight bringing Mariana here? Very brave, dude.”
Scott conceded. It was already a rough trip and it was just the first night. “It’ll get better. It has to.”
“Let me ask you, man.” Hassan took a puff of his cigar. “How serious are you and Mari?”
“I’m going to marry her,” Scott replied.
“All right, all right,” Hassan nodded, “and you’re sure this time around?”
“No doubt,” Scott was comfortable talking about his relationship with Mariana for once. Little by little, she was softening him. “The buck stops here.”
“I hear that, man,” Hassan took a puff of his cigar. “Do Chris and Deborah know?”
“They’ll find out, eventually,” Scott said nonchalantly. He didn’t care what his mother and sister thought.
“Look, man. I know you love this girl, and I know the grief your sister and mom still give you from the last one. But hey, if you love Mariana, that’s all that matter
s.”
“And that is the reason right there why I like you.” Scott grinned.
“I hate to interrupt this brofest here,” Christine barged in the conversation, “but Scott, you and I need to talk about your little girlfriend.”
Scott took a puff of his cigar and admired it. “About my little girlfriend?” He repeated. “This should be entertaining. Hassan, you should leave.”
“No, he can stay to hear this,” Christine folded her arms, “you need to hear this.”
“Oh,” Scott swirled his liquor in his glass, “do tell.”
“You walk in here after being gone for years and you bring another one, Scott. You fucking bring another one. After all we have been through, after everything, you fucking bring another one here.” Christine yelled.
Love the sinner, hate the sin. “Would it have been better if Mariana was White?”
“Yes,” Christine nodded, “anything but Black.”
Scott sighed as he quieted his anger. If his sister were a man, he would’ve knocked her out already. “Chrissy, I don’t have time for this.”
“You have destroyed this family, Scott!” Christine yelled.
The revelation made Scott shot up from his chair. “I’ve destroyed this family?” He walked closer to Christine and stood nose to nose with her. “I’ve destroyed this family? That’s interesting. I always thought it was Father with his numerous affairs that destroyed this family. I always thought it was Mother with her depression that destroyed this family, Chrissy. Oh, and let’s not forget the abortions that occurred somewhere between. You honestly think Mother’s June Cleaver act is truly her? That has never been her, and it never will be. She feels if she puts on enough makeup to transform herself back to 1955, then we both will forget how fucked up our family truly is.
“The worst thing that has ever happened to me…me…and I destroyed this family?” Scott was incredulous. His eyes were stinging with tears and the pain in his heart seeped through to his words. “And you and Mother both wonder why you never see me?”
“She humiliated you, Scott! She humiliated all of us! Mother and I had to fend off reporters and paparazzi for weeks while you were hiding in Europe! That Black bitch did interviews, press conferences, and was on every single magazine cover for months complaining about her broken heart when she was the one that destroyed yours!” Christine was crying. “She made it seem like you were the bad guy: you were emotionless, emotionally abusive, and not good for her. And where were you, Scott? Where in the fuck were you? Not here!”
“I know what Caprina did to me, and trust me when I say I have never forgotten it, neither.” His eyes were cold and his cheeks were stained with dried tears. “But Mari is not Caprina.”
“And how do you know that?” Christine challenged.
“Because I do,” Scott didn’t feel she had to justify anything to her or anyone else. Scott put out his cigar and began to walk back inside the house. “We’re done here.”
“I hope you never forget what Caprina has done to you, Scott!” Christine shouted after him.
Scott stopped walking and turned around. “And you want to know why I will never forget? It’s because you and Mother won’t let me.”
Scott walked into the living room and grabbed his keys. Deborah and Mariana heard the commotion and went to see what was going on. “Scott, what’s wrong?” Deborah asked.
“I need to get away from her for a while, Mother. I’ll be back.” He left the house.
Christine walked into the room shortly afterward. Tears streamed down her face and she was red like her hair. Deborah approached her daughter. “What did you say to him?”
“He ruined this family, Mother!” Christine cried.
“Not this again,” Deborah shook her head.
“Sure! Take his side like you always do! Hassan, let’s go! We’re leaving.” Christine picked up her coat and keys. “Good-bye, Mother!” She stormed out of the home and Hassan followed her.
Mariana stayed in a corner as she witnessed the family argument. She didn’t have any words to say, but she kept a safe distance. Deborah turned around and addressed her. “Don’t you dare think you’re the cause of what happened between those two, you hear me?” She sternly warned. “Don’t you dare think that!”
Mariana nodded. Even though she knew the argument between Scott and Christine wasn’t her fault, it didn’t stop feeling she had something to do with it.
EIGHT
“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” Scott began on the drive back to the hotel, “we normally get along with each other.”
“Are you okay?” Mariana asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Scott sighed, “I’m fine.”
“Did you want to talk…?” Scott shook his head before Mariana could finish. “Okay, I understand.”
The pair was in complete silence for the rest of the drive. Mariana could feel the sadness and tension from Scott and she rested her hand on his thigh in hopes she could somehow relieve him of those feelings. She had never seen Scott upset to the point of crying, and it disturbed her.
They went back to their hotel room, and Scott dropped the keys at the table. He went straight to the window and stared out into the night sky. Although he had adapted to L.A. life, Scott was still a Southern boy at heart. No fancy meals at an expensive restaurant could replace the taste of his mother’s famous baked macaroni and cheese and fried chicken. If he needed a suit tailored, all Scott would have to do is drop it off at his mother’s and she’d have it done by the end of the day.
He could go jogging at four in the morning and he wouldn’t have to worry about getting mugged. He wouldn’t have to fight traffic every morning or get in line for Starbucks. He missed Decatur.
The argument with Christine, however, reminded him why he would never come back. Truth was Christine wasn’t the only racist in town; she was just more vocal than others.
“My dad cheated on my mom a lot when they were married. It was an open secret. Some of the women my dad happened to cheat with were Black,” Scott clarified, “it’s part of a reason why Chrissy hates Black women. That’s in addition to what she personally experienced.”
“And your mother?”
“She was bitter for a long time. I still think Christine speaks for her on occasion, though they both deny it.” Scott felt his blood boil and released his tightly-clenched fists. “Just to be clear, I don’t have a preference for Black women. Your race had no factor in why I wanted to be with you. I’ve dated many women of different ethnicities and cultures. I don’t have a preference as long as the woman doesn’t get on my damn nerves.”
“I understand,” Mariana said softly.
“What my ex did to me was beyond fucked up and I will never forgive that cunt until the day I die,” Scott’s voice was still and quiet, “but you shouldn’t be punished for what that bitch did. It’s not your fault and it will never be your fault.”
Mariana wrapped her arms around Scott’s waist and pressed her body against his. “Scott, you don’t have to explain anything to me. I don’t care about your past and honestly, I don’t want to know. You’re with me now and that’s all that matters.”
“I need to tell you the story about her. I need to explain to you what happened,” he spoke softly.
“No, you don’t,” Mariana turned Scott to face her. “You don’t have to at all, honey.”
Scott smiled. Mariana was truly his angel. “Thank you for understanding me.”
“You’re not easy at times,” Mariana chuckled, “but you’re worth it.” She grabbed his hand and led him to the bed. “I think it’s time for you to release some frustration out on me. I know you’re tensed up.”
“I am,” Scott took off his shirt and climbed on top of his girlfriend. “And I’m going to take my frustration out on you all night.”
“Are you going to restrain me…Master?” Mariana’s lips curved up into a sensual smile.
Scott trailed his hands all over Mariana’s body and felt her
heat rise. He rested his hands in between her heat and she was on fire. “Yes, My pet.”
Mariana wanted to ask what her Master had in mind since He hadn’t packed any restraints in his luggage. But she knew Scott always had a plan.
He soon got off the bed and walked over to His suitcase. “Get undressed,” He ordered her.
Mariana quickly undressed and stood behind her Master, waiting for His next command. She noticed He was shuffling things around in His suitcase until He found what He was looking for. He turned around and was carrying her purple rabbit vibrator and blindfold in one hand. He carried two pairs of panties in the other.
Mariana immediately had a nervous feeling in her body. A previous boyfriend tried to use a toy on her and she didn’t enjoy the experience at all. He was too rough and treated her pussy like it was a piece of machinery. Mariana had to quickly remember whom she was with. She began to silently chant the mantra in her head.
To my Master, I give my submission. To my Master, I give my devotion. To my Master, I give my sex. To my Master, I give my fears. To my Master, I give my trust. To my Master, I give my happiness. To my Master, I give my everything. My Master loves me and I love my Master.
Scott noticed the nervousness in Mariana’s eyes. She was unsure as to what He was going to do with her and He understood. “I won’t harm you, My pet,” He whispered to her.
Mariana swallowed and nodded silently. “Yes, Master.”
“Get on the bed and bend over,” He pointed and Mariana followed direction.
Scott took off His belt and stood behind her. He smoothed His hands over her ass, feeling how soft and supple it was. “I’m going to give you a few lashings of the belt. It’ll be a new feeling from the paddle and My hand. You know the safety words, so tell Me when to stop.”
Mariana nodded. She only hoped the belt didn’t hurt too much. “Yes, Master.”
Scott stood back a short distance and cracked the belt against Mariana’s ass. Mariana immediately gasped and her eyes widened. The sting of the belt was both arousing and shocking at the same time.
Scott studied her reaction. “Where are you, My pet?”