Crazy Love (21 page)

J
ackson and Stacie walked hand-in-hand along Moreland Avenue in Little Five Points. The weather was gorgeous and half of Atlanta was out enjoying the warm sun.

Jackson absentmindedly watched the people. So far they had passed a girl with bright purple fluorescent hair, a man with dreadlocks that skimmed the ground and a teenager with so many body piercings that he'd probably spring a leak if he drank too much water. Suddenly Jackson's cell phone rang. He unsnapped it off his belt and glanced at the number; it was Amy, the waitress from Houston's. He let it go to voicemail, where he'd delete it later.

“Tell your friends that you have a girlfriend,” Stacie said.

Jackson laughed. “It could've been Jam,” he joked.

“If it was, you would've answered it. Like I said, tell your friends that you have a lady.”

“What if I don't?” Jackson asked.

“Then I'm gonna spank that ass,” Stacie threatened.

“Promises, promises,” Jackson teased. “Tell me again about the dead people.”

Stacie groaned, then punched him lightly in the arm. “Don't remind me. I don't want to think about that place again.” Her exciting new work assignment turned out to be at a mortuary. Being so close to dead people gave her the heebie-jeebies and she'd quit after only two hours.

They strolled past several fashionable boutiques, occasionally stopping to look in the windows. When they came to a shoe store, Jackson watched Stacie stare longingly at the shoes that filled the case. “I wish I could afford those,” she murmured, pointing out a pair of Franco Sarto mules.

“May I ask you something?” Jackson asked. He had said it so softly and with such concern that Stacie immediately knew what he was about to ask. She stumbled slightly, but quickly righted herself. Even though it was warm, her face and hands suddenly became clammy.

“Ask me anything you want, cutie, but be prepared for the answer. My grandmother always told me, never ask for a gift that you aren't ready to unwrap. So…” she shrugged. “Ask away!”

“When did you, um…how long have you…” he stammered. Asking was much harder than he thought it would be. Jackson cleared his throat and started again. “What I meant was, why do you do it?”

Shame flitted across Stacie's face. “It started when I was little,” Stacie whispered, and the memories came rushing back. “I don't remember how old I was. But my father used to get shit-faced drunk. It seemed like every night he was yelling and bitching about something.” She smiled sadly as she remembered. “Then when he got tired of yelling, he tried to destroy everything and anything in his path. After a few times of getting my butt whooped just for being in his visual, I learned to hide. And the only safe place in the apartment was the closet. It was junky as all get out.” She gave a watery laugh.

“Everything
was in there. I guess it was our junk closet. Since I was small, I was able to squeeze in between bags full of clothes and roll myself up into a little ball. Then to keep him from hearing me cry, I'd stick my face in a shoe to muffle the sound. And ever since then I knew that as soon as I got to the shoes, I'd be okay,” she finished, and looked down at her hands; they were shaking uncontrollably. Tears were streaming down her face and spilling down onto the front of her blouse.

Jackson pulled her into his arms and murmured softly in her ear. There was a restaurant a few feet away that had tables and chairs out front. Wrapping his arms around her, he nudged Stacie in that direction. Jackson sat down and pulled her into his lap. He grabbed a napkin off the already set table and dabbed at her eyes.

“I'm sorry.” She smiled weakly, then wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. “I've never talked about it before. I feel a whole lot better.” She pulled back and smiled up at him. Her eyes were radiant, and he leaned down and kissed her gently.

“So, um, do you do it often? Does it have a name? Do you think you'll be doing this your whole life?” As he fired his questions off, Stacie wanted to bury her face in Jackson's chest because she didn't know the answers to his questions and he was beginning to make her sound like a freak. She resisted the urge and answered the one that she knew for sure.

“I've tapered off some. I used to sniff about thirty times a day, but now I only do it around fifteen. And I don't believe it has a name and I hope that I won't be doing it all my life. Any more questions?” she asked shyly, and he shook his head. She stayed nestled in his lap and they people watched for a little while longer.

As they made their way back to his truck, Stacie got the courage to ask some questions of her own. “So what do you think? You gonna get rid of me now that you know your girlfriend is a freak?” Stacie asked teasingly, but her eyes were serious.

Jackson stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned toward Stacie so that they were face-to-face. “I don't plan on leaving you, baby. You're mine, freakiness included.”

“Thank you,” Stacie whispered as she reached up and stroked Jackson's face. Her hand was trembling, but this time for a different reason. I love him, she realized. Jackson caught her hand and lightly kissed her palm. Stacie stared hungrily at him. “You can't be doing that to a sistah, getting me all hot,” she groaned. “Heaven on Earth is right down the street, maybe we can sneak into Tameeka's office.”

“Bet!” Jackson agreed as he all but dragged her down the street. They fell into Heaven on Earth and immediately bumped into Bea.

“Hey! Is Meek working today?” a breathless Stacie asked.

Bea took in Stacie's flushed face and Jackson's unsuccessful attempt at hiding the bulge in his pants and smiled to herself. Young people. “She's in her office,” she answered.

Jackson and Stacie exchanged a disappointed glance, but walked back to Tameeka's office anyway.

“Hey, Meek, you've got guests,” Stacie called as she pushed open the office door. “Hey, girl!” she called when she didn't get a response.

“Is she here?” Jackson asked.

“Bea said she was. Maybe she's in the bathroom. We can wait for her on the couch,” she said, and Jackson grinned seductively. “Nu-uh, none of that,” Stacie said, but grabbed his hand as they stepped into the office. They both saw the heap on the floor at the same time; Stacie's hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, no!” she screamed, and rushed to Tameeka.

1. Crap! I'm not sure.
   

T
ameeka, are you all right?” Stacie asked.

Tameeka blinked, then quickly focused. “I'm fine. I was so worn-out that I fell asleep. Ever since Tyrell and I broke up I haven't been sleeping well. I guess it finally caught up with me,” Tameeka said. Stacie and Jackson each grabbed an arm and pulled her up. “Thanks, guys. Let me go clean up,” she said, yawning. She returned a few minutes later, wearing fresh clothes. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry y'all. I don't know what to do since Tyrell and I aren't seeing each other anymore. But Heaven on Earth has been a lifesaver. If it wasn't for the store, I don't know what I'd do,” Tameeka said, and hopelessly shrugged her shoulders.

“Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry,” Stacie murmured while rubbing Tameeka's back.

“Hey, what are you guys doing here?” Tameeka asked.

Jackson and Stacie exchanged guilty looks. “We were coming to visit you,” Stacie answered, averting her eyes.

“Yeah, right. Knowing you, you were coming to use my couch,” she said, and Stacie flushed. “Ha! I was right. Well, my office is not a motel. So go on,” she said, shooing them out.

“You go ahead,” Stacie said to Jackson. “Meet me out front. I need to talk to my girl.” Jackson nodded, then kissed Stacie on the lips before he strolled out of the office.

“How are you, girl…how are you for real?”

“Hurting. I hurt all over. My heart, my head…whoever said that you get a broken heart is wrong. It seems like every part of my body is broken.”

Stacie wrapped her arms around her friend. “I'm sorry, girl.”

“I'll be okay,” Tameeka answered, her voice trembling. “Go on and enjoy Jackson.”

Stacie looked her in her eyes. “You sure? I can stay with you.”

Tameeka clutched her chest, faking a heart attack. “What? Stacie Long passing up dick to stay with me? Lordy, things have changed. I'll be fine,” Tameeka said, chuckling softly.

“Okay,” Stacie said. “I'll be home later tonight, just in case you want to talk.”

Stacie and Jackson went back to his house to find they had it all to themselves. Ettie Mae and Jameel were at the mall.

“What's going on with Michelle?” Stacie asked, then began stroking Jackson's chest when she felt him stiffen. “Sorry, I don't mean to make you mad.”

“Naw, it's not your fault. Just hearing her name pisses me the hell off. She's coming over in a couple weeks to take Jam out on an unsupervised visit,” he said.

“Oh, that's right. Is there anything I can do?”

“Naw, baby, but I appreciate the fact that you got my back.”

“I'm serious,” Stacie continued. “I'm here for you.”

“I know. Hey, let's squash this convo. We'll deal with it when it happens.”

Stacie beamed. “Yes,
we
will. So what do you want to talk about?” she asked, and felt his body relax a little.

“Well, if you had a chance to be anything in the world, what would you be? And be honest,” Jackson instructed as he nuzzled his mouth against her neck; he couldn't suppress the grin that spread across his face. Who would've thought that the spoiled lady who drove him crazy would turn out to be the one who broke his three-date rule and made him fall for her? Not him.

She was like a glass of champagne, bubbly, classy and definitely didn't like to be shaken, he mused. It took him only two weeks to learn this and even less time to remember it.

“I don't know,” Stacie answered slowly, then smiled shyly as an image began forming behind her eyes. When she was a little girl, she had fun playing school with the neighborhood children during the summer. She loved making up the “lesson plan” and teaching the younger kids how to read. “I know what I want,” she said happily as she suddenly saw her life come together and form a beautiful picture. “I think that I would like to be a teacher. Let me rephrase that…I
want
to be a teacher. I want to make sure that little kids get off on the right foot,” she said.

“Hey, that's good. Why don't you do it? You're still young enough to keep up with the kids,” he joked.

“I don't know…” Stacie hedged, then said, “It's not the age thing…I don't know the first thing about being a teacher,” she admitted, suddenly feeling stupid.

Jackson wrapped his arms around her waist. “They have this new thing called the Internet. Have you heard of it?” he joked, and Stacie playfully slapped him on his hand.

“That's a good idea. I guess I feel so overwhelmed that I don't know where to start. And I'm not sure if I have what it takes,” she said softly. “I never stick to anything. I get so excited about stuff, then halfway through when it's not going well…I just drop it. So how do I know if I'll stick to this teaching thing?” she asked, though Jackson wasn't sure if she was asking him or herself.

“At least you act on what you want. So many people sit on the bench and watch life go by. At least you jump in and play a little, even if you're tired by halftime. You just need to learn how to stay in for the whole game.”

Stacie burst out laughing. “Thank you, Coach Brown,” she said, and Jackson chuckled. “I'll give it a try. What about you? What would you be?” Stacie asked.

Jackson thought for a second, then said, “A bus driver.”

“A bus driver?” Stacie asked, frowning. “That's not playing fair, you're already a bus driver. You have to pick something that you
really
want to be. Think hard. And tell the truth!” she demanded.

Jackson laughed. “Baby, I
am
telling the truth. I wouldn't make this up. If I had to be anything in the world, I'd be a bus driver. It's wonderful. I get to meet a lot of people. Case in point, I met you.”

“Yeah…but you really didn't meet me on the bus. First you met me at Houston's, then on the blind date,
then
we met on the bus,” she finished.

“That's what I'm saying. If it wasn't for the bus, we wouldn't have seen each other again,” he teased, then his voice turned serious. “Besides, I'm driving people to the next step in their lives.”

“Really?” Stacie asked. He made being a bus driver sound so interesting.

He nodded his head. “I'm dropping people off at their jobs, doctor appointments and job interviews. When people get on the bus they're moving…literally. It's an awesome job,” he finished, then added, “And I like working a big piece of equipment.”

“Oh!” Stacie uttered as a slow grin spread over her face. “Which one?” she quipped.

“Which one you think?” Jackson drawled.

Her hand slipped down between his legs. “This one?” she asked with wide-eyed innocence. Jackson groaned as she gently stroked his crotch.

“You're not tired, baby?” he asked. Stacie shook her head no, then pulled his pants off.

Jackson smiled. “You're a hot little something.”

“You want me to cool it down?” Stacie asked as she slid down to her knees in front of him and gently began nipping at the inside of his thighs.

“Aw, hell naw!” Jackson moaned as his legs widened to accommodate Stacie. Her eyes were closed as she lovingly tongued his thighs, then gently blew warm air on the wet kisses. Stacie inched her way down to the back of his knees, where she made little circles with her lips. She grinned when Jackson's legs twitched.

“You liking this, baby?” she whispered, and Jackson whimpered in response. “Well, you're gonna like this a whole hell of a lot better,” she promised, then reached up and grabbed his sack and gently rolled it around in her hand.

“Stacie,” Jackson uttered in a strangled voice.

“Just playing with part of your big equipment,” Stacie chuckled, then wrapped her hand around his penis and tenderly caressed it. Jackson's hips mirrored her hand movements. “Feels good?” Stacie asked, and Jackson nodded. Leaning down, she gently brushed her lips against his tip, then teased it with her tongue until it began pulsing in her hand.

“Stop playing and suck it,” Jackson begged. Stacie lowered her head and took him in her mouth. Jackson slowly exhaled as her lips wrapped around him. He gripped the couch cushions as her head bobbed up and down. “Ahhh, baby, are you ready for the big equipment?”

“Give it to me,” Stacie said, and waited while Jackson slipped on a condom. “How do you want it?” she asked, staring hungrily at him.

“A million ways, but right now, bend over the back of the couch.”

“I'd love to do it with you a trillion times,” Stacie said as she got into position and her body shuddered when she looked over her shoulder and saw Jackson staring at her with lust-filled eyes. “Do me, baby,” she whispered.

“A million ways,” Jackson promised as he slid into Stacie and she whimpered with excitement.

“Oh, Jackson,” she panted as she pressed her butt up to meet his strokes.

“Move that ass for me!” Jackson shouted. Stacie clung to the back of the couch as Jackson leisurely pumped in and out of her.

“Princess, I lo—” Jackson heard a car door slam and he froze. “Oh shit! They're back.” He was so close to coming; all he needed was a couple more strokes. He increased his speed when he heard Jameel on the other side of the door. “Stacie, baby, make me come,” he begged, with one eye on the door.