I Take This Woman

by Chamein Canton

  “So you’re all about two years apart.”

  “Yes,” she said as she ate a few more fries.

  Sam looked shocked. “You’re over forty? I would have never guessed that.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll be forty-two in the summer.” She smiled. “It’s nice to know my moisturizer works. Goodness knows it costs enough.” She chuckled.

  Sam finished his cheeseburger. “I’m not sure your moisturizer has anything to do with it. You’re a natural beauty.”

  Abby was a little taken aback. “Thank you.” His words made her a little nervous and she changed the subject. “You never told me where you met your fiancée.”

  “At the University of Texas.”

  “So you’re college sweethearts?” She smiled.

  “Yes, we were.”

  Abby was a little taken aback when he used the past tense, but she skipped over it. “What was her major?”

  “Maria majored in art history.”

  “That’s a great degree to have in New York City. Does she work for one of the galleries or museums?”

  “She was offered a docent position at the Museum of Modern Art recently but she turned it down. She’s worked at a few galleries and did a little volunteering with an art program, but otherwise she hasn’t done a whole lot with her degree.”

  Abby sensed this was a touchy subject and changed gears. “Do you want to give me what you wrote or would you like a little more time.” She pointed to the portfolio on the dashboard.

  “No. I want you to know that I did the writing, but I’m not happy with what I wrote. . Now I know what you meant by begin at the beginning,” he said, smiling.

  “Good. By the way, you did the outline you showed me the other day on the fly. Didn’t you?”

  “I guess you’ve been through this with writers before.”

  “Once or twice.” She laughed. “This was a bit of an unorthodox approach for me, but somehow I didn’t think assigning my usual writing exercises were going to work.”

  “You assign writing exercises?”

  “That’s how I learned to write. It was a part of my parents’ summer curriculum.”

  “Your parents gave you assignments in the summer? Like school assignments?”

  “Yes. Dr. Franklin Carey and Dr. Phyllis Carey believed that education was a continuous process. I mean, it wasn’t like I was in prison camp for the summer. We took vacations and went to the beach and amusement parks.”

  Sam laughed. “What did your parents teach?”

  “My father was the engineering department chair at Hofstra and my mother was the romance languages and literatures department chair there.”

  “That’s pretty heavy duty. I guess I got off easy with a gym teacher and a librarian’s assistant.”

  “I’d say you did, too.”

  “Most parents just check homework. It must have been unnerving to have your parents actually grade your papers.”

  Abby shrugged. “I never thought about it.” She sipped her shake. “Ultimately it paid off for them. All four of us went to good colleges and now we have great careers.”

  “I’d say so. You were an English major at the University of Pennsylvania. I bet you graduated with honors.”

  “ I did, but that’s neither here nor there at this point in my life. It might as well be a million years ago.”

  “I know what you mean.” He munched on a few more fries. “What do your brothers do?”

  “Franklin Jr. is a pediatrician in Maryland, Wes is a lawyer for the ACLU in Atlanta and Nicholas is a professor at MIT.”

  “Do you stay in touch?”

  “Our careers make it hard but we try to spend the holidays, birthdays and our parents’ anniversary together. In fact we were just in Florida at my parents’ for the Christmas and New Year’s holiday with all five grandchildren.”

  “Five grandchildren,” he repeated.

  “Yes. We had Frank’s three daughters, Georgina, Francine and Ariel; Wes’s son Adam; and my son Justin.” She counted them off on one hand.

  “How are your parents with them?”

  “Terrific. They take them on different trips every summer and whatever other holiday they can talk us into.”

  “No summertime schooling?”

  “Of course not,” she said jokingly. “That was strictly for their children. They’re retired now. My father plays golf every morning and my mother is exploring her artistic side through pottery making, painting, sculpture and whatever else the local community college offers.”

  “Wow. I guess it’s true what they say about grandparents. Happiness is being a grandparent.”

  “Isn’t that the truth?”

  He looked at Abby in jeans, a sweater, hat and pea coat. “I have another question for you. Feel free not to answer if you don’t want to.”

  “Are you going to ask how a straight-laced girl from the suburbs wound up with a player like J.J. Stokes?”

  “Yes. He just doesn’t seem like your type.”

  Abby laughed. “I know what you’re saying. But the truth is, despite his player bravado, J.J. grew up in Southfield, a middle class suburb of Detroit.”

  “I didn’t know that. Where did you meet?”

  “I was fresh out of NYU grad school and I had just started as an editorial assistant at Stillwater. It was after work and I’d stopped by the bookstore to pick up a few books and get a latte in the café.”

  “I wouldn’t have figured him for the bookstore type.”

  “He isn’t. He just happened to come in for a magazine and a cup of coffee to go. He’d just started playing for the Knicks and I think I was the only person in the place who didn’t know who he was. He walked over and struck up a conversation with me. The rest is history, thank God.”

  “I take it the divorce was amicable.”

  “Let’s just say it was mutual. I have Justin and he’s got cousins to keep him busy. Do you have any nieces and/or nephews?”

  “I have one niece, Daisy. She’s seven years old. She’s my oldest brother’s daughter.”

  “Daisy.” She smiled. “What a pretty name.”

  “I think so, too. Of course after having boys my parents love having a little girl to spoil.” Sam took his wallet out and removed a photo. “This was taken last summer.” He handed Abby the photo.

  Abby’s eyes grew larger as she studied the little girl with light brown hair, blue eyes and mocha complexion. “She’s gorgeous. Is this your brother and his wife with her?”

  “Yes. Why? Are you shocked that he’s married to a black woman?”

  “No, interracial marriages don’t shock me. Do they live in Texas?”

  “Yes. Not all Texans are Confederate flag waving, right wing Republican hicks. My parents have been registered Democrats for years.”

  “Being a registered Democrat doesn’t automatically make you a liberal,” Abby quickly said.

  “True. However, my parents are liberals.”

  “She handed the photo back. “They are a beautiful family.”

  “Thanks. My parents are visiting with them in Corpus Christi.”

  “Is your brother Zeke married?”

  “Yes, but I don’t think he and Jane are planning to have children. I think they like their lifestyle in Houston as-is.”

  “It is a matter of choice.” She sipped her drink. “Do you want children?”

  “Yes, I’d like to have at least one.”

  “How does your fiancée feel about that?”

  “She’s okay with it.” He shrugged his shoulders.

  “I bet your parents are excited about this wedding.”

  “I don’t know if excited is the word I would use. They would prefer it if I was doing something a bit more low key.”

  “When did you get engaged?”

  “A little over a year ago.”

  “And you’ve been together since college, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now I understand.” She nodded knowingly. “I’d imag
ine low key is definitely not a buzzword Maria’s working with at this point.”

  “You’d be right. Neither are her parents.”

  “As long as you’re happy, big or small doesn’t matter.”

  “True.” He nodded. “I have to tell you, though, this is the first conversation that I’ve had in months that hasn’t focused on the wedding. It’s a nice change of pace.”

  “I’m glad I could change it up for you.” She smiled. Abby looked down at the half empty bag of fries. “Do you want to finish these?”

  “No. You can have the rest.”

  “No, you take them. I’m going to do enough time on the treadmill for eating something I had no business eating in the first place.”

  “What do you mean? You have a great shape.” He looked at her closely.

  “Do I have hamburger in my teeth?” she asked self-consciously.

  “No.” He laughed. “I just noticed that you’re wearing your hair down.”

  Abby tugged her hat. “I’m wearing a hat and a scarf but I figured I’d leave my hair down for warmth.”

  “Could you take your hat off?”

  “No. My hair probably looks like a static fright under the hat.”

  “Please,” he begged.

  “You’re going to keep at me until I do, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine.” She took the hat off and immediately began to smooth her hair. She pulled down the visor to check her reflection. “You see, I’m a mess.”

  “No you’re not. You’re gorgeous,” he said as he leaned in and gently pressed his lips to hers. Abby tried not to kiss him back but she succumbed to the soft urgency of his lips. Then ever so tenderly Sam parted her lips with his tongue. Abby felt a tingle rushed throughout her body.

  She quickly pulled away. “This can’t happen!”

  “Why? I know you felt something. Is it because I’m white?”

  “No. I don’t care about that.”

  “You can’t tell me you didn’t feel something.”

  “Whether I felt something or not is neither here nor there. I’m older than you and I should know better.”

  “What does age have to do with anything? You’re only five years older than me.”

  “Be that as it may, we just got caught up in the moment. You’re engaged and I’m a woman who knows what it’s like to be cheated on.” She nodded. “I’m certainly not signing up to be a side dish.”

  “But Abby…” he began.

  “Please don’t say anything else. This never happened.” Abby buckled her seatbelt, started the car and pulled out.

  ***

  Abby seemed to have broken all land and speed records when she pulled in front of Sam’s building in just under an hour.

  “Here we are,” she said.

  “Yes, here we are. I don’t know whether to be flattered or upset that you couldn’t get away from me fast enough after just one kiss.”

  “You don’t have to feel anything. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place.” She shook her head. “Maybe I’ll have to work with you via email. Did I give you my card?”

  “No, I don’t want to work with you via email. I think I do better when we’re face to face.”

  “Fine.” She let out a deep breath. “Then consider this the first and last field trip. From now on we’ll work in my office’s conference room. Okay? That way we’re not alone.”

  “That’s fine with me.”

  She pulled her Blackberry out. “How’s Tuesday at 6 p.m.”

  “Good. But isn’t it after working hours?”

  “Not for public relations. Most nights we’re there until 5 or 6 p.m. Pacific Time.”

  Sam opened the car door. “Thank you for one of the best days I’ve had in a long time.” He fixed his blue-green eyes on her.

  “You’re welcome.”

  After he closed the car door, Sam watched her drive away. Abby Carey, you are quite a woman. He sighed wistfully. When he turned around the doorman held the door for him.

  “Good evening, Mr. Best.”

  “It certainly is, Charlie.” He smiled as he walked in.

  Once Sam got back to the apartment, he realized that Maria was still out. Buoyed by the day, he headed straight for his office, turned on the computer and began writing. Words flowed from his head to the keyboard so fast his fingers could barely keep up. Sam was feeling more focused and inspired than he had in a long time, and he knew he had Abby to thank for it.

  Chapter 9

  Abby made it from the parking garage to the elevator in record time. When the elevator doors opened, she let out a deep breath and stepped in.

  “What is the matter with me? Why did I kiss him back?” She paced. “I should have slapped him.” She folded her arms. “Oh, my God, I’m talking to myself aloud. I only do this when I like someone. I can’t like someone who’s taken. This can’t be happening to me.” She looked up. “Come on, Abby, pull it together.”

  When the doors opened to her living room she headed straight for the mirror and took her hat off. She looked the same.

  “Everything looks good from where I’m sitting.”

  Startled, Abby turned around. “J.J., what are you doing here?”

  Suddenly Dazz appeared. Though the same age as J.J., Dazz had one redeeming quality to Abby: he always dressed his age. Long and lean with a closely cropped haircut, the fair-skinned Dazz had a few flecks of grey around his temple.

  “Or better yet, how did you both get in here? I know Shana didn’t let you in.”

  “It’s nice to see you too, Abby.” Dazz smiled.

  “We helped a couple of young ladies bring some clothes racks in and up to the third floor.”

  “I have to talk to Shana about posting your pictures in the break room as my version of America’s least wanted.”

  “You always had a great sense of humor.”

  “Okay, J.J., what’s going on? You didn’t come here to tell me that I’m the next Kathy Griffin.”

  “No. I came by to tell you that I spoke to Justin and he’s cool if I don’t make it to parents’ weekend.”

  “What? You missed the last one and you promised to make it this time. What could be more important than your son?”

  “Nothing is more important than Justin. Dazz couldn’t get me out of the appearance. We signed a contract.”

  “I really tried, Abby, but the owners wouldn’t budge,” Dazz piped in.

  “Oh, I bet you tried really hard,” Abby said caustically. “Don’t tell me. It’s a club opening in Miami.”

  “No. It’s in Atlanta.”

  Abby shook her head, disgusted. “Okay, what did you promise to buy him?”

  “I resent that you think I have to buy our son’s affection.”

  “I don’t think you have to buy it. You do.” She folded her arms. “You’ve already gotten him every video game system. So was it an iPod or maybe the latest iPhone?”

  “The iPhone,” he said quietly.

  “Figures,” she scoffed.

  “Is that all you’re going to say? I expected you’d have a fit.“

  “What would be the point? I’m not going to waste my breath.” She exhaled loudly.

  “Aren’t you going to follow through with your threat to call Beebe’s attorney?”

  “No. I only said that to get you to take seeing Justin seriously.”

  “I do take it seriously,” he said defensively.

  “You can tell yourself whatever you want, J.J., I’m not the one you need to convince.” She shook her head. “Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s been a long day, and I’m exhausted.”

  “For someone who’s tired you look great. It’s like you have a little glow or something,” Dazz ventured.

  “What?”

  “He’s right. There is something different about you.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, nor do I have the inclination to find out. So if you please…” She walked over to the elevator.

  J.J
. got up. “I can take a hint.”

  “Apparently not,” she quipped as she pressed the call button.

  J.J. and Dazz walked over as the doors opened. They stepped in. “You know what else I want to say?” J.J. began.

  “No. Good night.” Abby pressed the button to close the doors, then rushed back to the mirror. Do I look different? She studied her reflection. She told herself that it was just a kiss, a simple moment of weakness on both their parts, nothing more.

  ***

  Sam was in the midst of writing, but he took a break to get something to drink.

  His phone rang.

  “Hello, Sam? How’s it going?” Reggie asked anxiously.

  “It’s going great, Reggie.”

  “Wow, you sound like a completely changed person from the man I spoke to last night.”

  “I have changed. I had a breakthrough today. I’ve been writing like a madman ever since I got home. Abby did the trick.”

  “That’s great news. I’m so relieved.”

  “That makes two of us. I don’t want to cut you off, but I’d like to get back to it.”

  “Please do. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Okay.” He hung up and, with his drink in hand, went back to the office.

  ***

  After a hot bath, Abby relaxed on her bed in front of the television.

  Her phone rang. She checked the caller ID. Oh my God, it’s Reggie. Why is he calling this late? She looked at the clock and realized it wasn’t that late. The phone kept ringing.

  Deciding she was acting like a nutcase, she picked up. “Hello, Reggie.”

  “Hello, Abby. How are you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Great. I just called to thank you.”

  “Thank me for what?”

  “For whatever you did to Sam.”

  “What do you mean?” Her heart jumped into her throat.

  “When I called him he was busy writing away. He was a man on a mission, didn’t even have time to speak to me. I don’t know what you did, but it worked.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Abby was relieved in more ways than one.

  “He’s struggled for months and now after just one editing session, he’s prolific. You’ve got the magic touch.”

  “What?” she blurted out.