Monty

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Monty Page 26

by Tina Martin


  “No,” I tell him. “If it means giving up your livelihood and your father’s company—no.”

  “In my heart, it’s already done, baby.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t let you do that, Monty.”

  “Everything I have is nothing to me if I don’t have you.” He swallows the lump in his throat and says, “You don’t know the thoughts running through my head when I jumped in my car and floored it to your house. And then when I pulled up at your house and saw blue lights…” His lips tremble. “I thought something bad had happened to you. That won’t happen again because you’re going to be with me. Always.”

  We stare at each other. I’m not up for the challenge of challenging him tonight. I’m traumatized. He’s shaken. The best thing I can do is drink this tea, calm down and accept the security of being this close to my protector.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Monty

  My baby.

  That’s who she is. I stayed up all night watching her sleep, making sure she was okay and didn’t have any bad dreams. Incidents like those that occurred last night could be enough to send her into another spell of bad dreams and insomnia. But I watched her sleep like a baby.

  She slept soundly. Quietly. Like a woman who had no worries. That’s who I want her to be with me. A woman without worries. I want her to be my woman. My wife. I’m prepared to do whatever I need to do to make that happen.

  I call an emergency meeting in the conference room downstairs since mother’s back. Major is already here. I’m waiting for her to arrive.

  “Must be important,” Major says, then yawns. “I can’t remember the last time you called a meeting this early in the morning.”

  “Yeah. It’s important.”

  “Whatever this is about, I hope you tread softly with mother. She was really upset the last time y’all met up?”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then why would you assume she’s upset with me?”

  “Because the day after she met with you, she was out in the backyard walking back and forth, holding her head.”

  I grin. “You never think mother’s frustration has anything to do with you, huh?”

  “Of course not. Parents always expect more from the eldest. Sorry, bro.”

  “I don’t know what I’ve done to irritate her, but—” I shrug.

  “Just try to keep a level head, man. You and mother just got back on good terms. Don’t impede progress.”

  “I have no desire to.”

  The door opens. Mother enters saying, “Good morning.”

  “Hello, Mother,” Major says.

  “Good morning,” I tell her. “How was your vacation?”

  She drops a stack of papers on the table and takes a seat. “My vacation was short. Too short. I need another week. At any rate, how can I help you this morning, son?”

  “Um—first I want to say that I enjoy my work mostly because it’s what dad taught me. I feel proud to carry on his company, to take it to the next level. It’s important to me. It’s my dream, well it used to be. I asked you why dad wanted marriage for me. You said he wanted me to know what love was. It’s amazing he knew that about me. Knew I’d never been in love before. No high school crushes. No woman in college I was infatuated by. My focus has always been this job. But now, I have to walk away from it. That’s why I called this meeting. I want to know exactly what happens to the company if I walk away. What happens to everything dad built?”

  Mother shakes her head. “Why are you even considering this, son? I don’t understand. I really don’t.”

  “What don’t you understand, Mother? You said dad wanted me to experience love, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then how can that be accomplished when I’m married to a woman I don’t love.”

  “A woman you don’t love?” she hisses. Her forehead is in a flurry of knots. “I knew I should’ve stayed on vacation,” she says. “That woman you don’t love took you into her home, literally patched you up and stuck by your side until you were well again.”

  “What?” I ask, looking at her like she’s crazy.

  “And she’d do anything for you. Has she not proven that time and time again? And you don’t even want to be with her. I don’t understand you, Montgomery.”

  “Wait—who are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about Cherish Stevens!”

  “Cherish?” I ask.

  “Yes. Who did you think I was talking about?”

  I glance over at Major then back to her. It’s when I realize I’d never confirmed who Mother chose for me. I assumed it was Paige because of things Major told me and the fact that Paige walks around here with her nose in the air like everything in my house is hers. Like I owe her for some reason.

  I look at my mother. Keeping my breathing calm and even, I say, “I thought the woman you picked for me was Paige.”

  “That’s the same thing I thought,” Major adds.

  She frowns, snaps her head back and says, “Paige? Why on God’s green earth would you think I’d choose her?”

  “You hired her without consulting me. You let her live in one of our properties rent-free, gave her a company car—”

  “Yes, because she was broke before she started working here. She’s good at what she does, but she’s not so good at life. I wanted her for the job so I let her live in one of our properties for a low rental fee and I didn’t give her a company car. I rented a car for her until she made enough money to buy her own car which she’s already done. And she has her own apartment now—she no longer lives in our property. And by the way, son, she’s not the only person I hired without consulting you.”

  She hands me a folder. I open it and flip through the pages. I read about the land ownership, the company and then I come across a section that talks about the marriage. I flip to the next document and see an actual marriage license that was filed a little over a year ago. My name is listed and below, it lists my spouse’s name: Cherish Stevens.

  I look up at her in disbelief and ask, “Cherish is my wife? She’s the woman you chose for me?”

  “Yes. I thought you knew that.”

  “How would I have known that, Mother? This is my first time ever laying eyes on this document.”

  “Then, I don’t know why I thought you knew, but goodness you’re going to give your Mother a heart attack. Do you know that?”

  A feeling of overwhelming joy creates a bubble around me. I say, “That’s why you were upset with me?” I ask her. “All this time, you thought I knew.”

  “When you came to my office and said you wanted to amend it, it broke my heart because I know Cherish is perfect for you.”

  “How would you have known that so long ago before I even said five words to Cherish?”

  “Because I’m observant. When I hired Cherish, I noticed how quiet and mild she was. She was the exact opposite of you personality wise. She always did her work, went above and beyond to take care of your needs. One day—um…I want to say about three months after she was hired—you were on your way to the office, running late, and she was standing at the window watching you drive away. The next day, she came to work early to lay out your suits, hoping it would help you with your time and she’d had been doing so ever since. You complained about your meals—she started making menus. You needed clothes dry-cleaned—she took on that. My point is, she was willing to do anything to make your life better. And the way she looked at you—my goodness—I could see the love in her eyes whenever she laid eyes on you. She’d try to play it off, but I could tell.”

  “How?’

  “Because it’s the same way I—the same way I used to look at your father.” She sniffles. Tears fall from her eyes. “Before he was the working man who neglected his family for the sake of his company, your father and I were a lot closer. The company took him away from me long before cancer did. He realized that a little too late. That’s one of the main reasons he wanted you to g
et married. He wanted you to have love in your life. If you were willing to give it all up for her, I know you love her.”

  Major gets up, walks around the table to sit next to Mother. He puts an arm around her. “Don’t cry, Ma. Everything is going to be alright now.”

  I close my eyes and surrender myself into relief knowing that the woman upstairs, lying in my bed is mine. My wife. I don’t ask Mother what she had to do to make this all legal. I really don’t care what she did. I only have one more question for her. “How did you get Cherish to sign this without knowing what it was for?”

  “Cherish trusts me. I brought her some papers, told them they were job-related and I needed her signature. She signed them. Didn’t ask any questions.”

  “Congratulations, Monty,” Major says. “You got your girl.”

  “Yes,” I say feeling my heart do backflips. It’s such a huge weight lifted off of me. I actually feel lighter. I feel free.

  Major laughs and says, “If you’re this good at playing matchmaker, I’ma need you to find me a wife, Ma.”

  She laughs. “I don’t think you need my help in that area, Major.”

  I stand up because there’s only one thing on my mind and that’s getting upstairs to my girl. My woman. This meeting is adjourned.

  “Wait, son. There are some other things we need to discuss.”

  “Okay, Mother, but can we talk about it later?”

  “Why later? Why are you rushing off?” she asks, smiling.

  “You know what the rush is, Ma. He’s going to see his girl,” Major says.

  “Just make sure you drive the speed limit and be careful,” Mother tells me.

  “No worries. She’s already here. Upstairs, sleeping.”

  Major raises his brows.

  “Whatever you’re thinking, Major, get it out of your head. There was an incident at her house and as a safety precaution, I brought her home with me.”

  “What kind of incident?” they both ask at the same time. They care about her as much as I do.

  “Nothing for you two to worry about. Now, if you would excuse me, I have some pressing business to take care of.”

  Before going upstairs, I go to the kitchen.

  “Good morning, Mr. St. Claire,” Naomi says. “You look like you’re in a good mood.”

  “Good morning, Naomi. I am in a good mood. This is perhaps the best day of my life.”

  “Oh, really now?”

  “Yes. Look, I need breakfast for two this morning.”

  She smiles and says, “Yes, Sir. I’m making some French toast and bacon. Shall I add anything else to the list?”

  “Yes. Add some fruit, coffee, cream, sugar and anything else you think Cherish may like.”

  Her smile widens at the mention of Cherish’s name. “Yes, Sir. I’ll get right on it.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be back around ten.”

  “It’ll be ready,” she sings.

  I head upstairs, checking my watch at the same time. It’s almost nine. I open the bedroom door. Cherish isn’t in bed, but it’s made to perfection how she always used to do it. The shower jets tell me where she is so I sit in a chair by the window and patiently wait for her to come out of the bathroom.

  I grow antsy when I hear the shower go off, lean back in my chair, hoping she’s the type to step out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel.

  I get my wish when the door opens. She’s wrapped like a burrito in one of my extra large towels. Her braids are in a high ponytail.

  She looks at me and smiles.

  I’m in love.

  In love with my caretaker. My assistant. My nurse. My best friend. My confidant. My reason for happiness. My strength.

  I’m in love with…

  My wife.

  She’s my wife.

  She doesn’t know it, but she’s mine.

  My wife.

  My flower girl.

  My everything.

  “Good morning,” she says making sure the towel is secure and nervously crossing her arms to add extra support. “I didn’t know you were in here.”

  I get up slowly, walk over to her and ask, “Did you sleep well?”

  “I did.”

  She looks up at me, holds my gaze and says, “Are you okay?”

  “Why do you ask?” I inquire while glancing at her lips, trying to decide the precise moment I want them in my mouth.

  “You look like you have a lot on your mind.”

  “I always do.” Especially when, most of the time, the subject is you.

  “I know you’re probably busy today—”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Good. Then, I’m going to get dressed and run back over to the house…see if I can get somebody to fix the door.”

  “I already have somebody going out there this morning to fix it.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. I do, and by the way, I don’t want you over there unless I’m with you.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  I touch her face. My body pulsates with desire. “Read my lips, Cherish. I do not want you over there unless I’m with you.”

  She looks at me for a moment then asks, “Why are you being so stubborn?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.”

  “Okay,” she says, grabbing my wrists, attempting to pull my hands from her face but to no avail. It’s when I go in for her lips. Before she can register what’s happening, I’m chomping on her tongue, playing ping pong with her tonsils while she moans and makes attempts to control her breathing.

  She pulls back.

  I inch forward and work my tongue in every corner of her mouth like I’m trying to eat her. I could kiss her forever. I don’t want this to end.

  She pulls back again, stealing her lips away from me. “Monty—”

  “I love you.”

  She grimaces. “We’ve been through this, Monty.”

  “I love you,” I say again.

  “I love you, too, but with the circumstances the way they are—”

  “Get dressed so we can talk.” She also needs to get dressed before I snatch the towel off and show her what I mean when I say I love her. I’m trying to pace myself. She’s making it hard.

  Literally.

  She grabs her clothes, goes back to the bathroom.

  I take the opportunity to go downstairs get our breakfast tray from Naomi, then I’m back up. She comes out of the bathroom around the same time.

  I pull out a chair for her. She sits down and looks at the food.

  “Wow. Naomi went all-out.”

  “Yeah. She likes you.”

  “You—you told her to cook this for me?”

  “For us. Yes.” I take off my suit jacket and lay it over the armrest of my chair.

  “While I was in the bathroom, I was thinking that I probably shouldn’t be here.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Because of what happened last night, obviously. I was scared, and I’m not scared with you.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  “But I—”

  “Eat,” I tell her.

  “I will, but I’m trying to express myself right now, Monty,” she says in one long, frustrated breath.

  I eat a piece of toast while she’s processing her thoughts. She comes out with, “I don’t want to be this close to you.”

  I grin. “You don’t even believe that, so why’d you say it?”

  “I do believe it. I can’t be with someone who’s already taken.” She stabs a pineapple chunk and chews it slowly. She’s still thinking.

  A wave of silence surrounds us while we eat. We suffer five long minutes of this unnecessary tension until I ask, “How close are you with my mother?”

  “We’re okay. I mean, we’re not best friends. She hired me so in a way I look at her as my superior and as a friend, too.”

  “Do you recall about a year and a few months ago, she came to you with some papers to sign?”

  “Yeah.”

 
“And you signed them?”

  “I did. I needed my job. Why wouldn’t I have?”

  “Did you read through them?”

  “No. Sylvia asked me to sign them—told me they were employment papers and legally she needed them for my personnel record, so I signed them. Didn’t give it a second thought. Why?”

  “Let me give you a bit of advice. Don’t sign anything without reading it first. You could get yourself in a world of trouble, sweetheart.”

  “Am I in trouble?”

  I crack a smile. “Yes. Yes, you are but in a good way.”

  She sips coffee. “What are you trying to tell me, Monty?”

  I wipe my hands, take the folder I got from mother off the floor and remove the only document that’s relevant. It’s our marriage license. I hand it to her, watch her look it over. She frowns, glances up at me. Frowns more. Looks at me again. “What’s this?”

  “It’s proof of what you signed.”

  She looks it over again. “It’s proof of what I si—”

  Her brown eyes roll up to look at me again. “This is—you said—this—”

  “It’s a marriage license. All this time, I thought my mother chose Paige when really, the woman she chose for me was you. It was you all along.”

  She shakes her head like she’s defiant. I thought the news would bring her relief. Right now, she appears to be in shock.

  “Isn’t this what you want?” I inquire.

  She looks at me, opens her mouth and nothing comes out. No words. No sounds.

  “Cherish?”

  “Huh?”

  “Okay, you need to talk to me because this is not the reaction I was expecting.”

  “I know I—I guess I’m having a hard time believing it. I—I’m your wife?”

  “Yes.”

  She lowers the paper to the table.

  “Are you not happy about that?” I ask, not masking the frustration in my tone, especially since I thought I’m what she wanted.

  “I—I uh…”

  “Cherish?”

  “I hear you. I’m just trying to process this.”

 

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