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Authors: Curtis Bennett

Cafe Romance (21 page)

BOOK: Cafe Romance
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“Well, it’s sure appreciated. I must say, grandma knows how to throw down when it comes to cooking.”

Joining him at the table she looked him over. “Yes, and it’s a good thing too. It doesn’t look like you’ve been eating well. But that’s alright now. You’re home grandma’s cooking is just what the doctor ordered for you.”

“Speaking of doctor, how did your last visit go?” he asked.

“Oh, you can’t put much into what Doc says no more,” she replied in her folksy old way.  “Mine says my blood pressure’s been up lately but I feel pretty darn good, if you want to ask me.  It’s just near the end of the day when your grandma’s wagon seems to slow down. Of course, I feel great now that you are here.”

“Well, if ever you need anything, medicine, medical treatment, or assistance here at the house just let me know,” he added, rising up to kiss his Grandma on the cheek.

“Oh, the day nurse that you hired for me is good enough. She drops in five days out of the week, spending at least four hours a day with me. On Friday’s we always manage to slip in a friendly game of two-hand Solitaire. That’s more than I can really ask of any one person,” she responded, looking affectionately at him as he peered into the oven to see how the sweet potato pie was coming along. It seemed only years earlier that he assumed the same pose near the kitchen oven as a little boy, she remembered fondly. 

“How do you manage to do all of this at your age?” he asked with endearment. With a bright smile, she replied, “With years of practice. Anyway, I had help today and as old as your grandma is, her memory isn’t quite what it used to be. I almost forgot that my helper was still here waiting on you, in the living room. She wanted to surprise you. It’s someone very dear to you.  Someone you haven’t seen in a while.”

“You know, I happened to notice another car parked in the carport when I drove up and I meant to ask you about it, but just like you, I became absorbed in the moment. Who is it?”

“Rest assured, it’s not your ex-wife.”

“That would have been a real surprise,” Kurt mused, wondering who else it could be.

“Why don’t you go ahead to the living room,” she suggested. “It’s an old friend of yours and we’ve kept her waiting long enough.”

“Okay, Grandma,” he said turning away from the oven. “Are you coming?”

“I’ll be along soon. I want to finish my tea and catch the news, honey,” she answered as she picked up her spoon to stir the warm brew in one hand and the remote to the kitchen television in the other.

With nervous anticipation, Kurt forged onward into the living room, two rooms removed from the kitchen. The L-shaped floor plan included the kitchen, dining room, living room and den; which doubled as the entertainment room. A half bath was off to the left of the laundry room. Kurt remembered the layout well.

A big screen television glowed softly before an audience of one whose back was turned from his approach. The hair was dark brown with a trace of frost in it. With little else to work with he still was clueless as to who this woman was until she turned to face him. As he took her into full view as his lips parted in surprise. If it were anyone else, his lips would have turned into a wide, open smile. But it wasn’t just anyone else. And it did not matter to him that her enchanting gaze was eager and mesmerizing, alive with affection and delight. He took a moment to absorb it all, though. Here in the flesh was the woman men once referred to as ‘
Foxy Roxy
’. 

“Kurt!’ the former beauty queen cried out. Though he tried his best to deny it, her ecstatic response still had a way of sending his heart and pulse racing. But something in his past caused him to hold back emotionally. It was his ex-fiancée, Roxanne Polite, whose family had migrated from the tropical island of Barbados in the early sixties. Roxanne and Kurt’s stepsister Trish were best friends. Had been since middle school. Though he developed a crush on her the day he first laid eyes on her it was not until he had graduated from college that the two began to seriously date.

“Hello, Roxanne,” he said, pleasantly restrained.

Rushing over to him she embraced him warmly, her perfume intoxicating to him. But he refused to show its effect on him.

“I am in town for a brief visit,” she began. “When I heard that you were going to be in town too, I just had to come over to see you.”

“How thoughtful of you," he returned, still numb with surprise.

            Removing a strand of hair from her eye, she beamed, took his hand, and gazed into his dark eyes. “Kurt, you just don’t know how great it is to see you, again.”

"I have to admit I’m surprised to see you,” he said, taking his hand back. “So, you say you are just visiting. Where are you guys living at now?”

“Virginia Beach,” she replied, her eyes sending him a private message. “God, you look great!  I can’t believe how long it’s been.”

“Yes, it’s been a while,” he breathed, thinking about the hurt and pain he thought he had gotten over. Quickly changing the dynamics of the conversation he gazed her way, adding, “I must say that you’re still as stunning as I remember you. Still keeping those fingernails painted and manicured, I see.”

“I do my best to look as good as I can,” she replied as she lifted her eyes to meet his, her gaze soft and enchanting.

“Exactly, how long has it been Roxanne? Five years?”

“Six years, I believe,” she sighed. “And far too, long, I must say.”

“Still married

to Don?” Don as in Donald Middlebrook, though Roxanne had an unflattering name she referred to him when around close friends and it was
The Beast
.  Ex-high school wrestler and basketball star. Honor student. Ladies’ man. Bastard son of a wealthy and handsome Irish investment banker and ex-model Portuguese mother. Raised by his Irish grandparents, Don was voted in high school as the one most likely to be paying child support by age twenty.

“Yes, if you want to call it that,” she returned in a sinking tone. “Hey, I hear that you’re on the market again.”

“I’m not sure about all of that. But Leslie and I are separated,” he confirmed, though Roxanne’s pensive response after he mentioned Don’s name did not go undetected. He decided not to probe.

With round eyes, she stared at him, and then asked, “Any children?”

“Came close. Leslie had a miscarriage. You?”

“Two sons,” she replied thoughtfully.  “Look, I am sorry about the miscarriage.”

“Thank you, Roxanne,” he said, drily.

With a single hand gesture he motioned her over to the sofa where they both sat down.

For a moment there was absolute silence. And a lot of looking. Roxanne wasn’t the type of woman you could simply ignore, even if you were at odds with her. Slowly, he felt his resistance beginning to erode. Up until this point his own civility surprised him. After all, this was the same cute looking angel who broke his heart many years ago, he kept reminding himself. Perhaps she had changed her earthy ways. Naah, no chance of that, he mused.

“I can see you’re taking great care of yourself. You must work out,” she said, her painted lips parting into a toothy smile.

“Yeah, whenever I get the chance,” he answered, taking another moment to reflect.

“Which must be often because you’re so ripped.”

Again, he cursed himself as he eyed this woman with interest. He could only resist her but for so long, especially as she followed his gaze with even greater interest. In a strange way, they both seemed willing to revisit the flame that once burned between them so brightly, so intense, so many moons ago. It was a flame that he thought was long snuffed out.

A longtime acquaintance of Roxanne since middle school, he had long known about her flirtatious ways and hesitated to get involved with her initially, even though completely smitten by her. But the moment he fell for her, he fell hard. In his naiveté, he thought she felt the same way about him, too. But Roxanne had plans of her own. She pursued Kurt relentlessly, and when she won him over, bedded him uninhibitedly, then just as quickly as she pounced on him, leaped off, and doused the flames of his passion for her by leaving him for executive type Donald Middlebrook.

With her betrayal came great hurt and pain. Though he forgave her years earlier, he could never forget what she put him through. For the moment he would not hold it against her. It was over he kept telling himself.

Breaking the ice, she said with pizzazz, “So, how does it feel to be a millionaire?”

“I really don’t give it a lot of thought anymore, Roxanne,” he replied, after a shrug. “I don’t feel all that different. Sure, I can get into doors that were once closed to me, but that’s only because the world understands one color - green.”

“That’s the best cerebral take on instant wealth I have heard to date,” she said, casting her eyes downward momentarily, adding, “Some things in life will never change. No doubt, the value of money is one of them.”

Rising up, he walked over to the chimney, leaned against it at shoulder level, and leveled his eyes on hers. “Let’s not forget about one’s loyalty and commitment. We should all ask ourselves, should such values remain unchanged, tried and true or should they change like the four seasons, or perhaps more like the sheets of one’s bed?”

His vexatious tone shook her with obvious pain and remorse. And he meant it to.

There was an acrimonious pause. His words had stunned like no other words uttered to her in their past.

“Listen,” she hesitated, needing more time to erase the pain, then rose up. “May I take this time to explain something to you?”

“I imagine so,” he said, softening his tone.

That he removed the steely edge from his voice calmed her enough for her to make her way over to him, even as she blinked away tears. “Kurt, I know I caused you a lot of hurt and pain but that was a different time, a different place, and a different Roxanne.

“I am truly sorry for the suffering I brought you then Kurt. It took some years for me to realize how selfish and how wrong I was. Believe me, this bothered me for the longest time. Still does. But it’s because of you that I am a better person now. I know I cannot change the past and what I must have put you through. But please, don’t let the past come between us now. Not now! Please!”

Extending his arms out to her, and feeling three sniffs lower than a rat’s ass, he pulled her gently into his embrace. “Look, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean that. Hell, I imagine a person’s first instinct is to strike back at those who have brought them great pain.”

Reaching for the tissue box he withdrew a couple and gently dried her tears away. “Look Roxanne, the past is the past. And I promise not to let it come between us. Please, can we just pick up where we left off a minute ago?”

Without uttering a word, she leaned her head back and gazed into his eyes, thoughtfully. Then, without warning, she drew close to him, snaked her arms around his broad shoulders and, standing tiptoe, and brought her warm quivering lips to press against his.

Instinctively, he moved his mouth over hers devouring its softness and passion, his thoughts filtering back to the day of their first kiss, right after college. Then, just as instinctively, a more recent memory caused him to pull away.

“Umm, please, Roxanne. How about we just take a deep breath and sit down,” he half pleaded.

She nodded, easing gracefully onto the sofa.           

“So, what brings you into town?” he began after recovering, leaning forward, his eyes leveled at hers.    

“We’re here because my nephew, who also happens to be my godson, is graduating from college,” she answered.

“Princeton, I imagine?” Kurt asked.

“Yes.”

“That’s great,” Kurt replied, looking into eyes that once sent him into orbit. “So where’s Don boy?”

“My husband has flown down to Florida on a four week work assignment today. He’s an Exxon executive president and he’s down there to inspect some of the offshore oilrigs in the Gulf. I’m flying down Monday to join him. He’s scheduled to leave for the oilrigs on Thursday. As for the boys, they will return to their boarding school in Virginia”

“What school?” he asked.

“The Citadel Military Academy.”

“Great school,” he quipped.

“Don wanted them to have a military career so he encouraged them to apply there.”

“Four weeks, huh,” he said, thoughtfully. “Where will you be staying?”

“In a leased bungalow in Florida.”

“That’s right, you did say Florida,” Kurt nodded. “Where ’bout?”

“Tampa.”

Kurt’s eyes widen. “Tampa Bay, Florida?”

“Yes. Tampa Bay,” she smiled. “Grandma told me earlier that’s where you live now. We definitely have to get together sometime while I’m down there. Perhaps you can show me around the area.”

Kurt was speechless.  So much, he could only nod his head.

“I bet you got someone special down there already, don’t yaah?” she probed.

He was about to answer when his grandmother entered the room carrying two round dessert plates with two freshly cut slices of sweet potato pie on both. She told them she had chilled the hot pie in the refrigerator for about two minutes so that it could firm up some.

Though chilled, the pies were still warm to the touch, just as Kurt liked it. Not too hot, not too cold. Excusing himself, he headed towards the bathroom to wash his hands.

A second later, the phone rang. Grandma, now seated on her Lay-Z-Boy recliner, asked Roxanne if she would answer it. Without hesitation Roxanne reached for the phone, which was a little over an arm’s length away on the wooden lamp table. 

The call was for Kurt. The caller was Yvette.

Once summoned, Kurt arrived in the room and took the phone but not before Roxanne said softly, “I’ve got a feeling that call was the answer to my last question.”

 

C
hapter 13

 

 

Y
vette had spent the better part of the afternoon doing laundry and cleaning house. Over time, this became her Saturday routine. Earlier in the day, Juanita dropped by for lunch and girl talk, and then took off for home to prepare for a dinner date. Before departing she playfully chided Yvette for not having introduced her to the new man in her life. With a chuckle, Yvette promised her a personal introduction when he returned from up north. Besides, what kind of friend would she be if she failed to introduce her best friend to her new man interest? 

BOOK: Cafe Romance
9.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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