New Sensations

by Lee, Lenise

  13

  The next two days passed at the speed of a finger snap.

  Jackson’s cement foot and silver bullet managed to get me back to the Royal Pavilion in time enough to attend a handful of workshops, enough to add to the necessary credits that I needed for my certification renewal.

  Friday was triple frantic. Another round of seminars, followed by a visit to the bar with Jackson for a couple of hours, and ending with a big family gathering for dinner at his Aunt Bea and Uncle Ritchie’s house, about a quarter mile behind their roadside restaurant. Jackson told me it would be all right to extend an invitation to Rita to attend the function. She quickly declined and returned back to her room after we all exited the bar early on in the evening.

  Annie and Bea weren’t fibbing when they said there were no handshakes given in their clan. I lost count after the first twenty hugs as I was introduced to nieces, nephews, cousins, in-laws, more aunts and uncles, a few grandparents, and a whole host of close family friends, who all welcomed me – literally – with arms wide open.

  Annie kept enthusiastic eyes aimed on Jackson and I throughout the night. I was almost sad to dash her hopes of a marriage announcement during the lively dinner jamboree.

  By the time Saturday – the day of my expectant departure – arrived, I was worn out and barely able to move from my bed at the B&B. Jackson had asked me to stay with him another night, as I had done for the past two, but I thought it best and easier if I slept in my own bed for the last night of my stay.

  I heard the alarm on my phone sound; nonetheless, it wasn’t until I felt Rita shaking my covers when I finally gathered enough energy to snap my eyes open and crawl from the bed.

  “Maybe if you hadn’t been out so late, you might be able to get up on time like you use to,” Rita’s voice was tight as she walked back over to her bed to finish slinging her items into her suitcases.

  I didn’t bother to reply to her irritable comment. Instead, I went to get dressed and then started folding my clothing and other items back into my bags and readying myself for my separation from my beloved Jackson.

  As Rita lugged her baggage toward the hallway, I told her that I would be waiting for Jackson to give me a ride over the airport.

  “Yup, see you there,” was all she said before disappearing up the hall without so much as glancing back.

  After giving the room the once over to make sure I hadn’t missed anything, I spotted Rita’s brush and make-up kit. I placed both inside of one of my bags to give to her later.

  Annie and I waited in the parking lot for Jackson to arrive.

  “Janay, sweetie, I sure am gonna’ miss you,” the kind woman spoke sweetly as we stood arm-in-arm.

  “Annie, you already know that I’m going to miss you, Aunt Bea, and the rest of your hilarious family the minute I get outside of the limits of Crystal Springs.”

  I tightened my grip on her and rubbed the back of her hand lightly.

  “Just make sure this isn’t the last time that Jackson and I see you,” her words were earnest and her eyes watched me carefully for a reaction.

  “I’ll try to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  It was the best answer that I could give without promising to set my return in stone. Annie nodded and we both turned our heads at the rumble of Jackson’s truck pulling into the paved lot.

  I freed myself from Annie’s side and bounced over to meet my lover. I jumped into his arms and he caught me with ease while I wrapped my legs around his waist. A sweet and intense kiss followed.

  Afterward, Jackson settled me back onto the ground and ushered me up into the passenger’s seat. As we pulled out of the lot, I waved to Annie as she called out to me and blew a kiss and a wave.

  “I’ll see you soon, Janay!”

  I wondered if there would be any truth in that declaration.

  Despite our passionate reunion in the parking lot, the drive to the airport was silent. Jackson kept his eyes trained on the road and I fidgeted restlessly in my seat. This is what our steamy liaison had fizzled down to, an awkward farewell.

  Jackson parked at the curb of the departure zone for the busy airport terminal. He helped me out of the truck and grabbed all of my small bags with one hand. He followed me through the sliding doors and walked with me to the check-in counter – all in a heartbreaking silence.

  No sweet kisses of longing.

  No words of consolation at our separation.

  No eternal exclamation of his undying love.

  How could I have ever imagined that our affair could last beyond the border of Crystal Springs? This was real life and these types of scenarios rarely came with a happy ending. I heaved in a lungful of air and prepared myself to walk away, not broken, but forever grateful at having the opportunity to experience this mind-blowing love story – even if its ending was so anti-climatic.

  The woman at the counter registered all of my documentation and pointed me toward my gate at the same moment as the overhead speakers announced that the flight was starting to board for take-off.

  I went back over to Jackson to reclaim my baggage and make my way toward the gate. As I approached him, my heart cracked in two as the vision of his distressed and grief stricken face filled eyes.

  I stepped up directly in front of him, unsure if there were any words that would adequately sooth this moment and give either of us any peace. When I found none, I voiced the first thought that came to my mind.

  “Goodbye, Jackson,” I said and touched his handsome face, now covered by a light dusting of hair, for the last time.

  He dropped my bags at his side and pulled me into his arms, pressing my face against his chest. He kissed the crown of my head and then guided me back so that he could stare into my eyes and cup my face between his palms.

  “Janay…baby…I said this once and I’ll say it again,” his hands trembled slightly as he spoke, “I don’t want you to go…please don’t leave me.”

  My fingertips clung to the sides of his shirt. Any moment, I thought I would faint away as the pain in my chest swelled.

  “I don’t want to leave you, Jackson…I…I,” my full confession was stuck in my throat so I opted for the part that was easiest to release, “besides my dad, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

  “Stay…stay with me, Janay, and I’ll make sure you know how much I desire and care for you every minute of every day.”

  The announcer called for boarding passengers again. My life back east was shouting at me that it was time to leave my fantasy behind. What would my mother think if I didn’t return home so I could live wild with a Montana man? How would my best friend feel if I didn’t get on that plane with her to return to our job and our upcoming account back home?

  I dropped my head and shook it from side to side.

  “Then, at least tell me when you’re comin’ back?”

  “Soon,” was the best reply I could offer.

  “Soon isn’t good enough…tell me that you’re gonna’ come back to me. I need to hear you say the words.”

  I did something that even I didn’t expect.

  I placed my hand over his heart and swore an oath I prayed that I wouldn’t break.

  “Jackson, I promise that I will come back to you.”

  A final blazing kiss and I knew that there was no other man who walked this earth who would ever fill my heart as completely as this man had.

  I picked up my bags and dashed for my plane, leaving Jackson Bryant and my adventure in Crystal Springs, Montana behind. Hopefully, not forever.

  The flight back home was stuffy and started off bumpy when the entire interior of the plane seemed to shake uncontrollably on take off.

  I spent the duration of a seven hour flight back to New Jersey strapped between two little twin boys. Rita and Alberto were stationed elsewhere on the flying object and I didn’t see them during the trip. The boys’ parents had never taught them that staring was impolite and I did my best to tune out their eerie nonblinking
eyes. I think that there mother was the woman sitting in the row directly in front of us, but it was hard to confirm that fact since she didn’t bother to give them any attention for almost five hours before cutting a slight eye back to take a quick survey of each of them.

  After we touched down – finally! – I made a mad dash as far away from that tight enclosure as possible and hailed the first taxi I could thumb down, leaving Rita and Alberto to fend for themselves. I was positive that they each would manage to find their own way back to their respective homes. A sudden migrane left me with limited patience for any extended conversations.

  I very nearly kicked down the front door of my modest apartment at the outskirts of Downtown Timber Falls, and collapsed faceforward on the bed the nanosecond after I entered the bedroom.

  My ears picked up at a low humming noise somewhere nearby.

  I cracked open a previously closed eye and spied out my black phone lighting up and dancing merrily as the vinbrations caused the device to slowly shimmy its way out of my open purse – haphazardly thrown down upside down beside me – and onto the bed.

  I patted my hands around until my roaming fingers wrapped around the cell and moved it closer to my face. I squinted my eyes and read the name on the screen.

  Why now? was my exasperated thought. I had little to no energy to deal with this particular caller, nevertheless, I tapped the answer button anyway.

  “Hello?” My voice was faint. I wasn’t even sure if she had heard me.

  “Janay?,” my mother’s voice responded in a confident tone.

  “Yes, Mother, it’s me, your daughter,” as if she didn’t already know whose number she had dialed.

  “Watch the attitude, miss,” she snapped back. There was a pause in between. “I was calling to ensure that your flight had landed on time and that you had made it home safely.”

  Her expression of concern sounded more toward the cold and indifferent side. It was like she was checking on a neighbor that she sometimes associated with and not the daughter who had known no other mother since being given away at birth.

  “Yes, it did and I walked through the door five minutes ago…safe and sound.”

  “That’s good. Well, I suppose you need time to regroup and settle yourself back in for work on Monday.”

  “Okay, thank you for calling.”

  It’s always polite to thank someone for an expression of concern, even if their motivation for doing a particular act was not necessarily sincere.

  “Before you go,” the level of her voice faded away and then returned to normal, as though she were not sure of her words, “I wanted to invite you over for dinner on Wednesday.”

  I bit my lip. I was due to start working on my new account this week and I didn’t need to add anymore stress to my shoulders by having to muttle through a meal with my mother.

  “I’m not sure that I can make it.”

  “Of course you can,” she was more matter-of-fact this time. “It’s been far too long since you dropped by. I’ll see you at seven sharp and bring Rita with you. I would love to see her.”

  There was no surprise there. My mother always seemed to prefer Rita’s company to mine and the two got along abundantly well. Perhaps inviting me was a means to get to spend some quality time with the daughter that Mother wished she had as opposed to the lackluster one she ended up with.

  “Sure. See you then, Mother.”

  I hit the End Call button and dug my face further into the bed.

  Before I had a chance to shake my dissolutionment with my adopted mother away, the black device twinkled and vibed again.

  I tightened my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, hoping that it was not her calling back to antagonize me further.

  When my eyes opened and I read the new name – Jax – on the illuminated screen of the slider phone, butterflies danced in my stomach.

  While I wanted to hear his soothing timbre caressing my earlobe again and relive all of the flare that made his memory such a sweet one in my mind, the rational side of my brain told me that I was better off not responding to the call. Jackson had his world, I had returned to my own with startling clarity, and there should be no mixing of the two.

  My sight was fixed on the illustration of the ringing phone dancing around the glowing face of the phone but I was no where near prepared to answer the call. A few more chimes and the phone stopped buzzing. One Missed Call is what the screen read.

  A sudden burst of anger at my silliness had my hands fixed to toss the phone across the bed and onto the floor when I was stopped midaction by a single beep and then a buzz.

  I read the newly delivered text message and felt double ashamed for ignoring the phone call.

  hi pretty lady…wanted to check on you…IMU…call me soon. J

  I miss you too, Jackson, I spoke in my head and wiped at the dab of moisture in the corners of my eyes.

  I received another text message from Jackson on Sunday asking me how I was. Monday and Tuesday, he called once each day – in the morning on Monday and the evening on Tuesday. I left all of his attempts to contact me unanswered. The rest of my life and the first half of the week carried on as usual, as though I had never left and my adventure back west had never occurred. I returned to the office, answered emails, checked voicemails, and Rita, Alberto, and I prepared a preliminary presentation for our new advertising account.

  On Wednesday evening, at promptly 6:50 PM, my graceful and stylish mother greeted Rita and I at the front door of a lavish three-story brownstone in an exclusive neighborhood on the complete opposite end of town from my apartment.

  Leshaune Vasquez Parker.

  Tall, slim, refined. Dressed in a strapless summer dress that clung to her statuesque figure and down to her tiny ankles and well lotioned feet that were strapped in chic roman sandals. Her shiny long tresses were swept up into a loose bun at the crown of her head with tendrils of her glosses curls dangling down below the tips of ears. Her outfit and prim hairstle accentuated her high cheekbones, perfectly shaped mouth and slanted eyes with polished precision. Her light butter almond skin glowed in the early evening light.

  My mother’s mother was from a small village located outside of Barcelona, Spain and her father was Afro-Cuban. They were both first generation immigrants to the US, who met during a naturalization class in Manahattan. The combination of their two sets of genes logically produced the dazzling woman who stood before us. Her stunning features and tall height made her a successful runway model for many years up until she married my dad, a professional basketball player at the time, and opted to retire at a relatively young age from the profession.

  As a little girl, it wasn’t uncommon for me to wonder if Leshaune Parker regretted bringing me home and making me a permanent part of her picturesque family. If she could have predicted how ordinary, career wise and, most especially, with my physical characteristics, would she still have chosen me?

  She reached out calmly and clasped my hands in her soft embrace. Mother touched her smooth cheeks against both of mines before stepping back and inspecting me with her hazel eyes. Her thin fingers touched the loose ends of my hair. I had finally decided on abandoning my tight hair bun altogether.

  “Janay, you have your hair out…it’s different.” She let my hair fall back to my shoulders but her eyes continued to scan over me. “You look as though you have put on some weight. What have you been eatting over the past week?”

  I pulled my hands away and clamped down my lips.

  An imperseptible smile passed over her mouth. Her gaze moved over to Rita and brightened tenfold.

  “Rita, you look lovely always,” mother said as she repeated the same cheek to cheek with my friend, only this time the exchange of sentiment appeared more endearing.

  After the lull of chit chat, the three of us settled down at the cloth covered rectangular dinner table with Mother at the head and Rita on either side of her. During our meal of red wine, roasted duck – with the duck probably made of nonfatteni
ng, high protein tofu – and a meddly of various steamed vegatables, I skirted through the events of my business trip, conveniently skipping over anything to do with Jackson and his clan.

  I knew Mother well enough to know that she would not have approved of my relationship with my former lover. Jackson Bryant and his easygoing manner were not going to be inclusive with her perception of the ideal man for me. A dentist…maybe. An office manager…closer. The small town owner of roadside bar…definitely not. It was not so much Jackson’s race as much as it would be his economic status that would have caused her judgemental personality the most trouble. Although Leshaune Parker was a second generation American raised in a middle class family, the increased fortune that a life with my dad had presented her with, left Mother accustomed to a certain lifestyle. And it was a lifestyle that she had been unsuccessful in convincing me was a necessasity for my life.

  “You didn’t tell her about Jackson, Jae,” Rita’s face gleamed in my direction across the table.

  I bit down on the silver fork in my mouth and flinched as the metal resonated on my teeth.

  Mother looked at me quizzically.

  “Janay, may I ask who that is?”

  I wiped my lips on the cloth napkin and cleared my dry throat. The nature of my sexual encounters with Jackson were obviously off limits. I wanted to phrase my response to sound as general and coincidental as possible.

  “He was…a man that I met in the town where Rita and I stayed. He showed me around.”

  “He sure did,” Rita cut in and went back to munching on her forkful of duck. “Jae, tell your mom everything that he showed you while you were in his truck.”

  “Truck?” Mother’s sculpted brow lifted.

  I couldn’t believe that Rita had placed me in this awkward situation. Why would she do that to me? She knew that my mother and I had a cordial relationship – at best. At worst, we tolerated one another’s conflicting personalities. Was Rita purposefully trying to cause more discord between my mother and myself? I know that she was certainly extending the rift that had been slowly sliding in the middle of our friendship.