A Love So Deep (27 page)

“Ford, party of three,” the hostess announced.

The trio stood and followed the hostess to a small, round table draped in imported starched linen. They sat next to a window that overlooked the marina. The interior of the restaurant had a rustic look about it—pictures and relics from the city’s past hung on the walls adding to the nostalgia of the place. Charlie pulled out a chair for Mary while Graham eased into the one to the right of her. Charlie sat in the remaining seat, leaving only the hostess standing.

“The buffet is open, but if you’d like a menu, you’re more than welcome,” the hostess said.

“We’ll have the buffet,” Charlie announced. And the others nodded their approval.

The trio sat looking from one to the other, each uncomfortable in their destined setting. Anxious to get beyond the moment, Graham pushed back his chair from the table and stood.

“You all ready to eat?”

Both Charlie and Mary nodded their heads.

Graham promptly moved behind Mary’s chair ready to pull it out, not wanting to be upstaged by Charlie. A smile rose on Charlie’s face, wallowing in a small victory at Graham’s small hint of jealousy.

“I’m ready. Mary?” Graham waited for Mary to rise from her chair.

“Oh, I’ve been ready. Been ready since yesterday. Just enjoying this view. You know, I never thought about sailing or going to the beach. It’s always been a white thing, you know. But today when I looked out over the marina, I told myself, “
Self, you are going to learn to live. Yes, Mary Ross is going to learn to live a little
.” Mary popped her fingers. “Yeah, that’s what I told myself.”

Charlie and Graham looked from one to the other. For whatever reason each man was there, Mary deserved a second look.

“I’m inclined to agree with you, Mary,” Graham said.

Mary snickered and gave Graham a broad smile. “Yes, Deacon Peters, I’m ready to eat.”

Graham pulled out Mary’s chair and extended his arm for her to proceed. He walked behind her with Charlie bringing up the rear. They were a funny-looking group, and Mary relished and marveled at her good fortune. Not only one—but two—men were taking her to brunch and making a fuss over her.

Charlie dropped Mary off and drove back to the church to retrieve Graham’s car. The pair rode in silence. Charlie watched Graham out of the corner of his eye while Graham nodded his head like it was attached to his neck by a spring, catching glimpses of Charlie on the sly. They reached the church, and Graham got out and got in his car. As he passed Charlie, Charlie rolled the window down and leaned his head out of the window.

“I’ll follow you to your house.”

Graham sighed.

They arrived at Graham’s house, and Charlie made himself comfortable on the overstuffed loveseat in the living room. He pulled out a toothpick and stuck it in his mouth and waited for Graham to return from the bathroom. A lot of memories were embedded in that room, the house, and the family that had occupied it. Charlie got up and went over to the fireplace. He picked up Graham and Amanda’s wedding picture and stared at it for more minutes than he could account for—at least until he heard a grunt from Graham who had returned to the room.

“Some day,” Charlie remarked with a grin and sat the picture back on the mantel.

“One of the best days of my life,” Graham responded. “But let’s talk about you.”

“What ya mean?”

“Why Mary, and what are you up to, Charlie? That’s a God-fearing woman.”

“Hold up, now. Don’t go and get all out of sorts. Sister Mary Ross done went through some kind of metamorphosis. And I saw how you looked at her—the same way I did.”

“I won’t deny that she looks more appealing, but Mary is not your type. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but please, not at Mary’s expense.”

“Are we talking about the same Mary Ross that was asking for your ass to be thrown out of the congregation at the big church on Market Street? The same Mary Ross that you practically threw out of your house yesterday when she came parading up here only to find the lovely Ms. Rita Long had beat her to it and was dressed in a naughty nightie coming from what I suspect was your bedroom after a serious romp in your pleasure palace?” Charlie chuckled and rolled the toothpick that hung from his mouth over his tongue like a jazz pianist stroking the keys of a lover’s melody.

“Yes, the same Mary, but that doesn’t give you the right to disrespect her…”

“It sounds like you’re worried that I might corrupt the God-fearing sister who seems to be exercising her faith to lure me to the house of God. Sounds like you need to get your house in order first, buddy.”

“I love her, Charlie…Rita, that is. If I hadn’t thanked you before…well, I’m doing it now. That Sunday when you got me out of the house…”

Graham lowered his head and took his time before continuing. “…and we started out at church and ended up at The Water Hole. The first time I laid eyes on her…the first time she opened her mouth and belted out that song, she dipped deep into the bowels of my soul.

“Sometimes I see Amanda’s face—all angelic with a glow around it as bright as the noonday sun.” Graham raised his head and smiled.

Charlie stared at Graham; not surprised at his revelation. He sighed and arched his eyebrows to their furthermost points. “Uhmm.” Charlie sighed again and got up from his seat. The air was thick with Graham’s sentimentalism, and Charlie was about to choke.

“Where’s Johnnie Walker or Jack Daniel’s? I could use either one of those boys. We need to lighten up the mood in here. Feels like we’re at a damn funeral, immortalizing the dead.” Charlie stopped short, realizing his Freudian slip. “Sorry, man.”

“Don’t worry about it. The bottle is under the sink.”

Charlie nearly ran to the sink and opened the cabinet door. Charlie raised the bottle in triumph. “Here we are. Don’t understand why you hide good liquor under there.”

Graham watched as Charlie took down two small juice glasses from the shelf. Charlie picked up the bottle of whiskey again and held it. He seemed lost in his thoughts while his eyes roved throughout the kitchen.

“I remember how it felt when Amanda was alive—bustling about the kitchen; frying up a big skillet of picture-perfect, golden fried chicken; sprinkling a cup or two of cheese into her famous macaroni and cheese…and she always had a place at the table for me. Hey, the place looks much better than it did a few months ago.”

Charlie and Graham shared a laugh. “I guess that’s what a new woman in your life will do for you,” Charlie continued.

“Maybe,” Graham said slowly and in deep thought. “Thanks, buddy, for being there for me and shaking my lethargic bones from their rusty perch.”

Charlie poured whiskey in both glasses and handed one to Graham. He lifted his glass and looked at Graham. “To my homeboy.”

“To my homeboy.”

They gulped down another swallow. “Homeboys,” they said in unison.

Brrng, brrng.
“Hello.”

“Hey, baby. This is Rita.”

“Hey, baby,” Graham said quietly.

“Why you whispering? You got company?”

“Just Charlie. We’re having a homeboy celebration.”

“Oh.” Rita snickered. “Don’t drink too much.”

Graham blushed. “So when and what time will you arrive in Oakland? Tuesday, seven forty-seven p.m., on American? Hold on. Let me get a pencil.” Graham turned to Charlie and motioned for a pencil that was sitting on the counter near him. “Rita,” he mouthed at Charlie.

A vast cloud covered Charlie’s face. It seemed to signal a change in the climate—a storm looming over the horizon, a sudden drop in the temperature…the atmospheric pressure, an unexplained eclipse of the sun by the moon. He tipped his head slightly, nodding in comprehension of what Graham tossed at him so gingerly. Rita was returning to the Bay Area.

“Okay, baby…that was seven forty-seven p.m. on American Airlines, Tuesday the twelfth on flight 6771. Will be there…I love you, too.”

Click.

“So the little lady will be here this week?”

“Yeah. Clyde needed the band to fill in for a group who had to cancel at the last minute. And it’s right on time ‘cuz I don’t know if I could stand to be away from her for too long. Maybe we can double-date when she gets here—you and Mary, me and Rita. What you say?”

“Yeah, maybe. Look, I’ve got to go. Thanks for the drink.”

“I’m glad we had this talk. I missed you, homeboy.”

“Yeah, homeboys.”

Graham embraced his buddy. Charlie forced a reciprocal handshake, then headed out the door.

W
illiam
nursed a shot of cognac. He sat back in the leather recliner, pulling the lever until the chair was almost at an 180-degree angle. He felt for the remote and clicked the power button. He took a few more sips and flipped the channel to ESPN. It had been a good day. Life was looking up. His horse had paid handsomely.

Fidgeting in his seat, William reached for his pocket, retrieved his wallet, and laid it on the small table that sat next to the chair. As he watched interview after interview, coaches and players who verbalized their thoughts on who would be the leading NFL team this season, he found the folded-up piece of paper with Angie’s phone number written on it. William fingered it, folded and unfolded it several times, finally deciding to phone the digits that might lead to an oasis of possibilities.

He dialed and waited a few seconds until Angie’s voice floated from her mouthpiece to his receiver. He stammered, “Angie?”

“Yes, who’s this?”

“William. I’ve been trying to get up enough nerve to give you a call.”

“It was good seeing you the other day.”

“You looked well. Couldn’t keep my eyes off of the black-and-white tweed suit you were wearing.”

“Well…”

“I guess I caught you at an awkward moment…kinda like our conversation.”

Angie sputtered, then let out a light laugh. “Wasn’t sure you would call.”

“Why, ‘cuz you left me high and dry? I don’t blame you, Angie. You had every right to do what you did…I might have done the same thing.”

“So…things going well with you—job…?”

“Girl, I’m doing better than good. Things have started to look up for me. And believe me, they can only get better. How about dinner tonight…my treat?”

“Well…”

“Well, what’s to think about? Oh, you’re with someone,” William pried.

“No.” Angie lowered her head and turned her face away from the phone. “I was with someone, but we broke up. I’m by myself now.”

“Say where and I’ll pick you up. I’m still riding around in my brokedown Acura, but I’m going to take care of that soon. So what do you say?”

Angie smiled. “Sounds like a date.”

“I won’t disappoint you. And whatever else the night dictates, we’ll play it by ear.”

“I’ll meet you at…”

“Don’t trust the old guy with your new address?”

“It’s not like that, William. I guess, I just want to be sure before I play all my cards.”

“Don’t blame you. Why don’t we meet in the parking lot at The Water Hole at eight o’clock, and we can go from there?”

“All right. Can’t wait to see you.”

“Me either.”

William hung up the phone and stared at the figures on the TV screen without really seeing them. He liked Angie. She was good people and a good lover, but his mind was on getting Rita back. It was very likely that he might have to be the one to orchestrate her return to his arms, even if he had to use a tangible object named Angie to do so.

The parking lot was partially full when William pulled his Acura into The Water Hole. Local talent was headlining, but Wednesday night was the time to unwind and break the monotony of the week. It was sure to be filled by the time the nine o’clock hour rolled around. Then he saw the marquee—
Rita Long and Midnight Express, Saturday at 8 p.m.

Midnight Express this Saturday
? William wasn’t aware Rita would be back in town so soon. It only meant he had to accelerate his plan, and phase I was already in motion.

William drove on, searching for Angie’s silver Toyota Camry. He made another sweep through the parking lot and finally spotted it just as Angie stepped out. Her lips tendered a perfect smile with about the same dip that showed off just enough cleavage at the scooped neckline of her black-and-rust silk dress. William couldn’t pull his eyes from her.

The perfect gentleman, William got out of his car while it idled, opened the passenger door for Angie and closed it when she was safely inside. A faint grin crossed Angie’s face like a digital marquee. They engaged in light conversation until they reached His Lordships on the Berkeley Marina. William was attentive to Angie’s every need and treated her like the lady she was.

William told Angie to order anything she wanted on the menu and christened their meal with a bottle of Dom Perignon. They were seated at a cozy booth that overlooked the San Francisco Bay with a glimpse of the Bay Bridge that stretched from Oakland to San Francisco. Watergate, the island city that sat on a landfill with so-called skyscrapers of its own, was caught between the Bay Bridge and Interstate 880.

William brushed the top of Angie’s slender fingers between sips of Dom Perignon and talked about their lives in Los Angeles, what went wrong, and what direction they were both headed. Angie had landed a great job, but she was born to sing. And she remembered Rita Long’s promise upon her return to help get her career going.

“I think you’re blessed to have Ms. Long in your corner.”

“I can’t believe how fortunate I was to run into her like that. And she’ll be here this weekend. She is so real…unassuming. Most people who have it going on like her wouldn’t have given me the time of day.”

“She has an incredible voice and range,” William’s voice swooned as if talking about someone he had the distinct privilege of knowing in another lifetime.

“I wonder why she has never married? I’ve seen her with an older guy. She’s so beautiful and classy. Let me stop. We didn’t come here to talk about Rita Long.”

When Angie looked up, William had a faraway look in his eyes. He felt her stare, and gave up his daydream.

“You don’t have to stop,” he said, as if he hadn’t missed a beat of her speech. “I like watching your lips move when you talk about something you enjoy.”

“You’re making me blush. Let’s order.”

“That’s fine. I recommend the blackened salmon. It’s exquisite.”

“I didn’t think you knew words like…exquisite.”

“The night is young. I have a whole bag full of words I’m going to use on you before the night is over. Thank you for accepting my invitation to dinner.”

Angie smiled. “Thank you for extending the invitation.”

Dinner was only the appetizer on William’s menu. It didn’t take much to convince Angie to return to the mansion on the edge of the slum. She “ooh’d” and “ahh’d” as she passed through the foyer into the great room. She looked at her image in the tall mirror encased in oak. Admiring herself and the handsome gentleman at her side, who gingerly nudged her along as they gently stepped across glittering white marble tiles, encouraged thoughts of what could be. Large porcelain vases stood tall on either side of the mirror and stars fell from the sky when Angie looked up into the skylight.

Angie wanted to see everything, but William had other ideas—partaking of the main meal—then dessert. He swung Angie in front of him, and she took her hands and pushed his long dreads behind his ears. Now on the balls of her feet, she reached up to meet his waiting lips. He took them without hesitation and kissed her passionately—an air of familiarity, a flash of lustful moments that drove both of them crazy until they were out of breath. He pulled off her coat and encircled her waist, his hands draped over her shapely buttocks. She drank from his eyes until she closed hers and kissed him again while their bodies writhed in agony from want of each other.

William picked Angie up and cradled her in his arms. She blushed as he took her into Troy’s sweetheart room—a circular room centered around a heart-shaped bed covered in a red satin spread. Large red-and-white satin pillows framed the bed.

“It looks like a giant box of Whitman’s valentine candy.” Angie giggled. William smiled.

The bed sat on a pedestal, and a two-step, cherrywood stool sat next to it. Mirrors circled the circumference of the room and an electronic drop-down movie screen, operated by remote control, was suspended in mid-air nearest the wall at the foot of the bed. A small bathroom with a mid-sized Jacuzzi, accessorized with red-and-white linen, could be accessed from the left side of the bedroom.

William pulled back the covers and laid Angie on the bed. He sat next to her and looked into her eyes. The longer he gazed at Angie, the face became Rita’s. He forced himself to erase her image from his mind, but the image fought to stay. Rita, his one true love, held the key to permanent fulfillment that he failed to obtain on his own. Sweet, sweet Angie would take care of his immediate needs and in the very near future be the bridge to what he truly desired. William kissed Angie again and gently removed her clothes, then his own, and smothered her with kisses.

He sat up and brushed back her hair to see the fullness of her face. William’s body longed for the tasty morsel that lay before him, but a silent alarm cautioned him to take it slow. He loved her once, but…

“I want to look at you, make love to you with my eyes.” Angie’s eyelashes fluttered. “Your face radiates like sunshine and your eyes, round as saucers, drink from the overflow of your sunshine. A still portrait in a museum of art is your body, laying in wait for passers-by to caress and behold your true beauty.”

Angie frowned. “What’s gotten into you, William? I’ve never heard you talk like this before.”

“I told you my bag was full of words for you tonight. Your inner and outer beauty overwhelms me. Be still.”

William’s dreads cascaded about her face—a waterfall covering the madonna. He kissed her passionately, then released her lips—sweat pouring from his brow, stopping for only a second to wipe the sweat away. He lifted his head and took in the rest of her body.

“Your figure’s delicate features fascinate me, console me, and send bolts of lightning to my loins. Your breasts…” he reached down and took her breasts in his hands, blowing on the now erect nipple, “are like golden apples in an orchard ready to be picked and suckled until the sweet nectar arrives. And the leaves that gingerly cover your fruit of passion whisper secrets that make men gape.”

Angie tried to ease up, but he mouthed the word
no
.

“I just want to look at you,” William said again. And he held her, kissing her gently here and there until he was ready to take her back to her car. He had her; he knew that for sure. Even in their silence, he knew. His whispers of love of lust were for her, but in the end, it would be Rita that he would have completely.

Angie barely recognized this man who she would have given all she had at one time in her life. Surprises were worth the wait, but William was indeed the man she had been waiting for the last four years of her life, and tonight, he was the perfect escort. It felt like she was falling in love again, falling like a meteor that found itself in earth’s gravity.