Homecoming Weekend (11 page)

Two weeks later they had met in Richmond—and had separate hotel rooms. Earl figured they could share the same room and
not be intimate. Catherine did not want to chance it. So, they had rooms on the same floor of the Marriott.

“Come on, man, you're joking,” one of Earl's good friends, Thornell, had said. “What's the point? You know it's going to happen one day. Why not that day?”

“I hear you, but I'm not looking to force anything,” he had said. “That's my girl. I'm good. The reality is that we've already made love to each other's mind. The physical will come. I'm not sweating it.”

Catherine could feel Earl's disposition about the sex thing, and it only drew her closer to him. In fact, one day he texted her:
“I have been fantasizing about you all day. I miss your lips and covet feeling your body. I miss seeing you, laughing with you, being around you. Forces are pulling me toward you, our connection is so strong.”

And she texted him back:
“You just made love to me.”

By the time they got to Richmond, Catherine's comfort level and willpower elevated so much that she hung out in Earl's room after a nice dinner and cocktails. They sat together in a lounge chair and engaged in a protracted, heated session of kissing and touching and basically getting each other so hot and bothered that they actually were sweating.

Finally, around two thirty in the morning, Catherine pulled herself away from Earl. They gathered themselves and Earl walked her down the hall to her room and kissed her good night. Earl knew then he had the willpower of ten men—and that he, indeed, was in love with Catherine.

The two weeks leading to homecoming were long and torturous for two people who were in love but had not yet expressed it to each other. Earl arrived that Thursday so he could play in the alumni golf outing on Friday morning, but really so he could spend an extra day with Catherine.

And that day started as all of their previous days had: with them firmly embracing and kissing passionately at the Norfolk Airport. She took him from there straight to Terrapin restaurant for dinner in Virginia Beach. The dining room was elegant, the mood romantic. They laughed and talked and kissed and ate each other up. Before the food arrived, Earl slid his seat next to Catherine's.

“I love you and I'm in love with you,” he said, looking into her eyes. “I have wanted to tell you this for a while now, but I wanted to tell you in person, not over the phone. I wanted you to see it in my eyes.”

Earl's eyes actually watered, surprising him. But that's how deeply he felt for Catherine. She could feel through Earl's words and consistent actions that he loved her. To hear him say it made her heart rate increase. She loved him, too, and said so. Hearing it from Earl freed her to express her heart.

“I love you, Earl. I do,” she said. They kissed and hugged and there was a relief for both of them that came with finally getting it out.

Still, Catherine remained steadfast in not consummating their relationship just yet by making love, but she did want Earl to come over to her place for cocktails after dinner to sort of kick off the weekend. After Richmond, she knew they both were strong enough to resist their ever-growing urges.

She drove to her condo after the fantastic meal, then up the ramp in the parking deck to the third floor. But instead of parking, she kept going.

“Baby,” she said, “remember the guy I told you about that I stopped dating several months ago?”

“How could I forget?” Earl said.

“Well, I just saw his car parked in my visitor space,” she said. He had never heard her voice sound so distressed.

“What?” Earl said. “Do I need to talk to this guy?”

“No. But I don't understand,” she said.

“Well, do you want to go in or go to my hotel?” he said.

“Let's go to the hotel,” she said. “I am so sorry, Earl. When I got off from work today, he was at my car in the parking lot. I told him exactly the deal. He seemed to want some form of closure because I told him a while ago that I wanted to take a break and didn't want to be in a relationship. But then I told him about you and he's saying he's confused.”

“Look, you can't account for other people's actions,” Earl said. He put his hand on her shoulder as she drove along. “I'm good. Relax. At some point, he's going to have to be dealt with since he showed up at your job and now at your home. That's crazy to me. I'd love to deal with him. But it'll be all right. He can't ruin our day.”

The plan was for Earl to make drinks at Catherine's place; he had packed the ingredients in a bag and placed it in her trunk. And when they got to the Marriott Waterside, he immediately washed his hands and began making cocktails.

“I definitely can use one,” she said. “Earl, I'm so sorry. I—”

“Catherine, it's okay. We're still together, right?” he said. “Do you want me to give you some time to call him? I can go to the lobby for a few.”

“No. I have nothing to say to him,” she said.

“Okay, well, here's a drink,” he said, handing over a margarita. “Let's toast.”

He held up his glass. “To a wonderful homecoming weekend, stalker or no stalker.”

That drew a smile from Catherine, the first since she had seen her old friend in her parking garage. “I don't understand,” she repeated. “I thought we could still be friends. I think he's a good person. But I guess we can't be friends.”

Earl set his drink down and hugged Catherine. She hugged him back. Then they kissed. He lit a candle and found a nice playlist on iTunes on his laptop. The drapes were open and revealing the tall buildings of downtown. Catherine began to relax and the talk of anything unpleasant ceased.

After a second drink, they rolled around Earl's bed, kissing and groping each other in a fury. Suddenly, all that passion stopped. Earl stopped it. He looked into Catherine's eyes.

The music played, but they could not hear it.

“It's time,” he said softly but firmly.

Those words ran through Catherine's body and settled in her heart. It was as if Earl had touched the perfect chord with her—in what he said, how he said it, and when he said it.

She sat up on the bed and then stood on it. “You want to see me out of my dress?” Catherine asked, looking down on Earl, who lay on his back. He did not have to answer; she knew the deal, and unzipped the back of the dress and pulled it over her head, revealing a curvy, sensual body that defied her age. Earl admired it as he pulled off his shirt and pulled down his pants.

Their unclothed bodies met and the passion in them was unleashed in a fury of deep kisses and caressing that lasted nearly a half-hour. Finally, they separated enough for Earl to admire her body through kisses, on her lips and face and her shoulders. He advanced down to her breasts, where he gave each the proper attention.

Catherine threw her head back and relaxed herself to enjoy the affection. Earl vowed to appreciate her entire body, and he did. He slowly kissed her down her stomach to the inside of her thighs. Her breathing turned into panting as his lips moved from one thigh to the other.

He then settled directly between her legs and used his tongue
to please Catherine to climactic heights. Her body shook and she screamed in ecstasy. They spent the next hour making sweet, passionate, intense love. There were no awkward moments. Their movements and emotions were synchronized.

When Catherine rested in his arms, she cried. She was in love with Earl, and their consummation of that love drew out all the emotion in her. He did not cry, but his heart was open. He believed he had found all he needed in a woman in Catherine.

“You're my soldier of love,” he said to her.

“You're my beacon of hope,” she responded.

They kissed and cradled each other before eventually drifting off to sleep, punctuating an exhilarating start to their homecoming weekend.

Jimmy and Carter

S
omething clearly was bothering Carter when he returned to The Mansion—he and Barbara hardly looked at each other. She and Donna went directly to the bathroom; Carter to the bar.

“Dude, you okay?” What happened?” Jimmy asked.

Carter just stared off, not bothering to answer.

“Yo, Carter,” Jimmy said louder.

Carter turned to his boy. “She just told me some wild shit,” he said.

Jimmy looked at him as if to say,
And
. . .

“She's getting a divorce and moving to New York,” he said.

“Holy shit,” Jimmy said. “
Really
? But you look like that's a problem. You told me you all are in love. Why isn't that good news?”

“Man, I do love her, Carter said. “But I wasn't trying to have her live in New York. That changes everything.”

“What? Why?” Jimmy said. “Just yesterday—yesterday—you talked about how into her you were, how you all have been in love since college. So help me out here: How can you not like her moving where she'll be close to you?”

“There's a lot I have going on in New York,” he said, which was code for he had another woman.

“Did you tell Barbara you were seeing someone else? Or did you let her believe you were waiting on her?” Jimmy asked.

“Neither,” Carter said. “She never really asked me if I was in a relationship. She knew I dated.”

“Do you love the girl or not?” Jimmy asked. “You told me you're in love and now she's available to you and you have a problem.”

“Forget it, man,” Carter answered. “You don't understand.”

Jimmy smiled to himself. He knew Carter too well to believe that would be the last he heard about the situation.

But his attention shifted quickly to one of his Maurice Roper, who had the look of a man headed to the gas chamber. They hadn't seen each other in ten years. Through the expanded waistline, glasses and gray hair, Jimmy was still able to place him.

“Mo, what's happening?” he said with a broad smile.

“Jimmy!!! Damn,” Maurice responded.

The two men hugged. “Damn, boy, you look just about the same,” Maurice said to Jimmy. “You look good.”

“You look different, like you've been living a good life,” Jimmy said to Maurice, laughing, patting his protruding stomach.

“Yeah, well, you know,” he said. “Married life can do that.”

Then he turned to his right to introduce his wife, Eula, who was not smiling. In fact, she stood with her arms folded, like there was someplace else she'd rather be.

“Eula, this is one of my good friends from college, Jimmy,” he said.

“Hi, Eula. Nice to meet you. Your husband and I had some good times together,” Jimmy said.

Eula gave Jimmy a meek handshake and a faint smile. She did not say a word.

Jimmy kept his smile and turned to Maurice. “So, catch me up on what's been going on with you,” he said.

Eula rolled her eyes and told Maurice she was going to find the bathroom.

“Yo, everything okay?” Jimmy asked when she walked away.

“Man, I could hurt that woman right now,” Maurice said. “But it's my fault. My instincts told me to leave her ass at home. But she really wanted to come, so I gave in. We got married six months ago. She went to NYU. She's smart as hell. But she doesn't get the black college homecoming thing.

“I met her in New York, at the play
The Mountaintop
on Broadway. We were both waiting afterward for Samuel L. Jackson and Angela Bassett to come out after the show. She was holding her program up in the crowd to get it signed and I volunteered to do it for her because I was taller and could reach closer to the actors. We started a conversation from there and here we are.

“But she's had attitude ever since we got to town and I ran into some honeys from school in the bookstore—Gina Dorsey, Terry Hodge and Deberah ‘Sparkle' Williams. They were looking great and, of course, we hugged and chatted for a few minutes. They actually told me about this day party. When they left, Eula starts going in about how disrespectful it was for me to hug women in her presence and all this bull.”

“What did she expect you to do?” Jimmy asked. “They're your friends from college.”

“That's what I said,” Maurice added. “Then she said, ‘I know you slept with one of them.' And I was like, ‘No, I didn't. How did you get that? And if I had, what difference does it make? That would have been ten or twelve years ago. I had a life before you. We're married.' But that didn't seem to matter. So, we get here and I ran into Carter and Barbara and her friend and she starts the same stuff.”

“Man, I hear you,” Jimmy said. “But I felt like that would be me if I brought my wife with me to homecoming. I've been married for a few years, but something about me coming back to Norfolk
State made her feel like she needed to be here, like I was going to be screwing old girlfriends or something. But I told her I was coming alone, and you can believe she is pissed at me right now. I just want to have a good time, see my school, see old friends and go back home. I didn't need her telling me it's time to go or asking me about everyone woman I hug.”

“I wish like hell I had done the same thing you did,” Maurice said. “I'm really shocked by her attitude. I never would have expected it. I thought she was more secure than this. But she's making this trip hell—and we just got here about three hours ago.”

“Well, it will get better once she sees how everyone is interacting and sees how innocent it is,” Jimmy said. “I know some people do come back to hook up like old times or whatever. But that doesn't mean that's what you do.

“How's she going to be at the game tomorrow? She like football? She like to hang out at the tailgate?”

“Shit, that's going to be worse than today,” Maurice said. “You see her in those high-ass heels? That's all she wears. I told her the tailgate is awesome and that a lot of standing is involved—and walking. But I don't think she brought any really comfortable shoes. She thinks she needs to look glamorous to impress people for me.