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Authors: Ernest Hill

BOOK: It's All About The Moon When The Sun Ain't Shining
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Chapter Twenty-five
I
felt her hands on my legs moving back and forth gently, slowly. And I heard her whisper again, “Make love to me.” I moved closer to her. And she undid my buckle and I unzipped my pants, and I felt my desire mount and I wanted to slow the moment, for we were alone, and we had time, and the moment was right.
There was a peace between us now. And I was not her father, nor she her mother. And there was no thought of things given up or things lost. And there was no fear or trepidation, for all of that was far from me now.
I felt my pants sliding down my thighs and over my knees. And I felt the weight of her body on top of me. And I closed my eyes, and I felt her lips about my ear, and I heard the soft, sensuous sounds of her bated breath. And I felt the motion of her hips. And I felt myself becoming excited. And I wanted to slow the moment, and enjoy the nakedness of her body against the nakedness of mine. And I undid her bra and removed her panties. And I felt the fullness of her breasts against my naked chest. And I ran my hand down the small of her back and over her firm, naked bottom. And I felt her moving again. And I heard her moan, and I heard her whisper, “Please make love to me.”
And at that moment, the smoothness of her skin and the slow roll of her hips bested me, and I felt patience give way to desire, and suddenly I was inside of her, and I wished that it was night, and I wished the lights were low, and I wished the music was soft, and I wished that we were alone in a room overlooking the beach, and I wished that this was our wedding night, and that she was my wife, and that we were joyously celebrating all that would come, and bidding a final farewell to all that had been.
I heard the springs on the bed creaking. And I was aware that we were in her parents' house. And that this act with which we were engaged was forbidden here. And the fact that it was forbidden excited me even more. And I closed my eyes. And she was straddling me. And I could feel the heat of her flesh against mine, and I could feel the gentle sway of her hips keeping time with the sway of mine. And I could see the brownness of her eyes and the fullness of her lips, and the moment between us became more intense, and I felt her body tighten, and I felt her head on my shoulder, and I felt her hands gripping the sheets, and I heard her breath become shorter; I heard her moans become louder. And I felt the pressure of her knees pressing into the mattress. And I gave into the moment, and I heard myself moan. And in that instance, I felt lucky to have a chance with her again and I felt happy that this moment was a good moment, and not just for me but also for her.
It had been a long time since I'd felt this way. Not since the night before I left for school and we made love in the backseat of her car. And for some reason, I thought of that moment. The two of us, completely naked, in the backseat of her car, on a starlit night, in the middle of Mr. Hadnot's sweet potato field. And there was no one out there to hear us, except the squirrels and the racoons and the wild coyotes. And the love was long and loud, and hot and passionate.
I dug my fingers into the small of her back. And I felt my heart accelerate, and I felt the weight of her body on top of me as my body rose and fell. And try as I may, I could not control my breathing. She moaned again and the passion in her voice excited me. And I pressed harder against her body. And at that moment, I knew she was the one. I had thought so many times before. But not until this moment had I truly known. It was strange to me, but at this moment, there was a magic in her touch—a magic which heretofore I had never felt before. And instantly, I wanted to possess it, and make it mine. And not just for today, but forever.
She sat upright and tilted her head back. And I felt rising in me a force that I could not contain. It was gentle at first, then I felt the intensity rise, and I felt my blood burn hot. And I heard her moan again. Then a feeling came over me. One which I could not control. And I felt the moment accelerate, and I heard the bedsprings creaking, and I felt my hips shudder, and I heard her moan again, and I felt her body tense. And I felt the pressure of her hips against mine. And I was happy for this moment. For in this moment, all doubts ceased. And for the first time, in a long while, things were clear in my head. There were no more questions and no more doubt. She was the one. And in that moment of truth, I felt burst forth from me every ounce of passion that I felt for her. And instantly, I felt her body quake and I felt her hands tremble. Then I felt her collapse forward, exhausted.
I closed my eyes and laid the palms of my hands on her warm, naked butt. And her presence at this moment pleased me. And I felt her move her mouth close to my ear and I felt the warmth of panting breath gently touching the side of my face. And though my eyes were still closed, I could sense the parting of her lips just before she whispered, “I love you.”
Her words made me smile, and I opened my eyes and turned my face toward hers. Then our eyes met, and I whispered back, “I love you too.”
I kissed her again, then she laid her head back on my chest and we laid there for a while, quietly holding each other. And the sheet was over us now, and the only light in the room was the tiny rays of sun seeping through the tiny crack at the seams of the curtain, and we had repositioned our bodies. Now, she was lying next to me, and my arm was about her waist, and her right leg was draped across my midriff, and though I was no longer inside of her, I felt just as close to her as I had only moments ago. I felt her body shift again, and I pulled her even closer.
“Promise me it will always be like this,” she said.
“I promise,” I said.
“I mean it,” she said. “I don't ever want things to change.”
“They won't,” I said.
She looked up at the ceiling and started to cry again.
“I don't respect him,” she said. “I don't respect him at all.”
“Who?” I asked.
“My father,” she said.
“I'm sure he's doing the best he can,” I said.
“Well that's just not good enough.”
“It'll all be behind us soon,” I said.
“Promise,” she said.
“I promise,” I said.
She buried her face into my chest and sobbed. I held her tight. We both closed our eyes and went to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-six
I
heard a strange sound outside and I opened my eyes and looked about. Omenita was still asleep but when I moved, her eyes opened and she looked at me and smiled, and I smiled back at her. And instantly, I felt my heart flutter. Yes, I was in her bed and she was in my arms and the door was shut and the world was locked out and there was nothing else on this entire planet that I craved and there was no other place I wanted to be. I felt the bed give and I saw her fidget, then turn her face toward me, and I could see that her eyes were still foggy and that she was somewhat disoriented.
“What is it?” she asked me.
“I heard something,” I told her.
And when I did, she snuggled closer against me, and I felt the warmth of her naked body pressed tight against mine, and I draped my arm around her, and the side of her face was against my chest, and the crown of her head was beneath my chin, and I could smell the faint fragrance of her perfume. Intoxicated by her scent, I gently kissed the top of her head, then I lifted my hand and slowly ran my fingers back and forth along the small of her back. She purred softly and then she relaxed, and I could tell that this moment was nice for her, and I was happy about that, and I did not want it to end. I wanted to stay here with her, tucked beneath the warm, cozy covers away from the problems and confusion that had become my life, but I knew that I could not for they were waiting on me. And I had to face them, and their questions, and their concerns.
I heard the sound again. This time, she heard it too.
“It's just a cat,” she whispered.
“Are you sure?” I asked her.
She did not answer immediately and I remained very still listening again for the odd sound, which I was sure I had not heard before. The fact that the sound unnerved me amused her. She lifted her head and I saw her smile.
“I'm positive,” she said. “He lives underneath the house. I imagine he's just trying to stay warm.” She paused again, then tilted her head. “I know you're not afraid of a little pussycat, are you?”
“Of course not,” I said.
Now my mind tells me that this is not so. And there is a part of me that fears that we are no longer alone, and I am unnerved by the fact that I am naked with her in her folks' house. Yet, in a strange way, the thought that someone may be out there titillated me. I closed my eyes again, and she curled against me, and I held her for a moment, then I looked up at the ceiling. Suddenly panic swept me.
“What time is it?” I said.
I saw her raise her arm and look.
“Twelve-thirty,” she said. “Why?”
I removed my arm and sat up. Inside my head I could hear the imaginary ticking of an invisible clock. We had slept away the morning and now I would surely be late.
“I got to get up,” I said.
“Why?” she said. “What's wrong?”
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed my pants.
“I have to go,” I said.
“Go,” she said. “Go where?”
“To pick up Mama,” I said.
“What!” she said, then rose to her feet quickly. I could see that she was upset. I looked at her. I didn't want to argue. Not now. Not after this.
“I told her I would be there by one,” I said.
“Then why did you come over here?” she asked me. There was a robe on the back of a chair. She removed it and hastily draped it around her naked body.
“To see you,” I said.
“I don't believe this,” she said.
“I'll be back,” I said. “As soon as I take Mama home.”
“Thought she rode home with some lady.”
“Not on Saturday,” I said.
“I don't believe this,” she said again.
“I'm sorry,” I said, “but what do you want me to do?”
“Be a man,” she said.
“I am a man.”
“Then stay here with me,” she said.
“I can't,” I said.
“Why?”
“I told you. I have to go pick up Mama.”
“Go on, then,” she said. “Go on to your mama.”
“Why do you do this?” I asked.
“Do what?”
“Act this way?”
“What way?” she said, then squinted as if she did not know what I was talking about.
“Like I'm the worst person in the world.”
“Just wish you'd grow a backbone,” she said. “That's all. I'm getting tired of dating a boy. It sure would be nice to date a man.”
“I am a man,” I said again.
“Then start acting like it.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Figure it out,” she said.
“Why don't you tell me,” I said. “You seem to know everything.”
“Why did you come over here?” she asked again, “if your mama wasn't gon' let you stay.”
“It ain't like that,” I said. “And you know it.”
“Oh,” she said.
“Omenita, what do you want me to do?” I asked. “Let Mama walk home in the cold?”
“Go get your mama,” she said, “but just remember this. After you say I do, the only person you gon' be going to get is me.”
“Please,” I said.
“I'm serious, Maurice. Come Thursday, you gon' start being my man and you gon' stop being your mama's boy.”
“I'm nobody's boy,” I said.
She looked at me hard. “Just remember what I said.”
“Fine,” I said. “I'll see you later.”
“I'm going to be busy later,” she said.
“Fine,” I said again. “Then, I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Fine,” she said.
Chapter Twenty-seven
I
dressed quickly and hastily drove the short distance to Miss Hattie's house, and I had no more than guided the truck under the carport when I saw Mama pull the kitchen door open. I parked the truck a short distance from the door and though I did not look at her directly, I could feel her eyes on me. Yes, I was late, and she wanted to let me know that she did not appreciate me keeping everybody waiting. I stepped from the truck and walked toward her, and when I was close, I stopped and looked at her. She continued to gaze at me, and I dropped my eyes. Then, and only then, did she speak.
“Where you been?” she asked me.
“Nowhere,” I mumbled.
She looked at me hard, but I did not say anything else. There was no need to. I was sure she knew where I had been, and I was equally sure that she knew why I was late. A gust of wind swept us, and she pulled her sweater tight and folded her arms across her chest.
“Come on,” she said. “Folks waiting on you.”
I followed her through the kitchen and down the hallway to the parlor. Miss Hattie, dressed in a blue pantsuit, was sitting in a chair next to the fireplace drinking a cup of tea. And Danielle, dressed in a pair of plaid wool slacks and a white pullover sweater was sitting on the sofa Indian-style. There were two Italian-style sofas in the room, both facing each other, and both separated by a cocktail table. Danielle sat on the sofa facing the large bay window. That way, she could see Miss Hattie, as well as see outside. She had been thumbing through a magazine, but when we entered the room she looked up. They both did.
I spoke to Miss Hattie first, then to Danielle, and after we had exchanged pleasantries, Mama directed me to my seat, then she excused herself saying that she had a couple of things to take care of before going home. From the sofa facing the hall, I watched Mama leave, then I looked around. It was a stunning room. There were expensive paintings and a vaulted ceiling and hardwood floors and antique furniture and a stunning grand piano that was perfectly positioned before a large bay window that overlooked a magnificent flower garden. Only it was late December, and the flowers were bloomless, although there was an unusual amount of greenery for this time of year, which I would assume was due to the fact that it had been an unusually long, warm winter. I was admiring the room, when it occurred to me that they were both watching me. Suddenly, I felt the need to say something.
“I apologize for keeping you waiting,” I said.
“Oh, that's okay,” Danielle said. “Mother and I were just chatting.”
There was a small serving tray on the cocktail table. I saw Miss Hattie look at the tray, then back at me.
“Care for a cup of tea?” she asked me.
“No, ma'am,” I said politely.
“We have coffee,” Danielle said, “or hot chocolate if you like.”
“No, thank you,” I said. “I'm fine.”
I looked away then I heard Miss Hattie's voice again. “Audrey told us the news,” she said. I saw her pause, then smile. “We're sure proud of you.” She paused again. “You couldn't have chosen a finer field had you tried. The legal profession has been good to this family, and I'm sure it will be good to you as well. The judge has big plans for you,” she said. “Really big plans.”
“That's what I wanted to talk to you about,” I said.
“Well, you should probably talk to the judge,” she said. “He'll be home tomorrow afternoon.”
I was quiet. I saw Danielle looking at me, concerned.
“Is there a problem?” she asked me.
“Just a little change in plans,” I said. “That's all.”
“What kind of change?” she pressed me.
I hesitated a moment, searching for the right words to answer her.
“I've decided to go in a different direction,” I said.
“I don't understand,” she said.
I was uncomfortable, and I did not know why, for this was my decision, not theirs. Then it dawned on me. There was a reason for my anxiety. I was concerned that they were going to judge me just as Mama had. Well, if they did, so be it.
“I'm not going to law school,” I said.
Danielle turned and looked at me sharply.
“Why?” she said. “What happened?”
“Is it your scholarship?” Miss Hattie asked. “If so, perhaps the judge can help. Perhaps he could speak to someone for you.”
“No, ma'am,” I said. “It's nothing like that.”
They paused, waiting.
“Then what?” Danielle asked.
“I've decided to get married,” I said.
I saw Danielle's eyes widened. “Married!” she exclaimed.
“Yes,” I said. “Married.”
Miss Hattie frowned.
“Aren't you a little young for marriage?”
“No, ma'am,” I said. “I'll be twenty-one in a few months.”
“Well, can't you do both?” she asked.
Suddenly, I heard the sound of Mama's voice floating in from the hallway.
“No, Miss Hattie,” she said. “That gal made him choose.”
I turned and looked. Mama had returned and was standing in the doorway. I looked at her hard to let her know that I did not appreciate her unsolicited comment.
“Well, is she pregnant?” Miss Hattie asked.
“Oh, God no! Miss Hattie,” Mama said. “It's nothing like that.”
Suddenly, I felt myself becoming incensed.
“You should speak to Father,” Danielle said.
“There's no need,” I said. “I've made up my mind.”
“He won't listen,” Mama said. “God knows I've tried.”
I swallowed hard and gazed at her. Why was she doing this? Why here? Why now? Why in front of them. Why?
“Well, do I know the intended?” Miss Hattie asked Mama.
“You know her,” Mama said. “She's Russell Jones's oldest daughter.”
“Russell Jones, the pipe fitter?”
“Yes, ma'am,” Mama said. “That's him. One and the same.”
Danielle looked at me, stunned.
“You need to speak to Father,” she said again.
I didn't answer her.
“Well, have you set the date?” Miss Hattie asked me.
“Yes, ma'am,” I said. “Thursday.”
“This Thursday?”
“Yes, ma'am,” I said again.
“Why so soon?” she asked.
“Well, that was my question,” Mama said, “but to this day, I still haven't got a satisfactory answer.”
“We've just decided it's time,” I said.
“Then I guess congratulations are in order,” Miss Hattie said.
“Or condolences,” Mama mumbled.
There was a moment of silence and I rose to my feet. I had a strong desire to leave. I felt angry—no, I felt violated.
“Well, I don't want to take up any more of your time,” I said as politely as I could. “Please tell Judge Davenport that I'm thankful for all of his help.” I looked at Mama. “Are you ready?” I asked her.
“Not quite,” she said. “I need to speak to Miss Hattie for a minute.”
“I'll be in the truck,” I said.
I turned to leave. Danielle stopped me.
“I'll walk you out,” she said, then she rose and followed me out of the room, and when we were in the kitchen she stopped and looked at me.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I'm fine,” I said.
“You seem a little upset.”
“I'm alright,” I said.
“Well,” she said, “I must admit, I'm a little surprised by what just happened in there. A few days ago you seemed so certain about law school.”
“I was,” I said.
“Well, what happened?”
“I chose love over law,” I said. “That's all.”
“That's all!” she said, then smiled faintly.
“You think I'm crazy?” I said. “Don't you?”
“No,” she said. “I respect your choice.”
“But you are disappointed.”
“No,” she said. “Not really.”
“Not even a little?” I said.
“Well,” she said, “maybe just a little.”
“At least you're being honest,” I said.
“And you're being true to your feelings,” she said. “I definitely respect that.”
“Wow!” I said. “Thanks.”
“Now, don't get me wrong,” she said. “I still say you would make a fine attorney. And this community is the worse for your decision, but I am happy for you. Law is a beautiful thing, but you do have to love it.”
“I do,” I said.
“But just not as much as you love her?”
“No,” I said. “I don't think so.”
“And she's definitely against law school?”
“Totally,” I said.
“Forever or just for now?”
“I don't know,” I said.
“May I ask you a personal question?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Is she your first love?”
“Yes,” I said. “Why?”
“Oh, I was just curious.”
I nodded, but remained quiet. She paused a moment, then asked a related question.
“Is she your only love?”
I squinted. Her question was confusing.
“What do you mean?”
“Have you ever dated anyone else?”
“No,” I said. “I haven't.”
“But, she has?”
“Yes,” I said. “One other person.”
“The guy at the restaurant?”
“Yeah,” I said. “The guy at the restaurant.”
“He was her first love?”
“That's right,” I said.
“Well,” she said. “What happened?”
“Excuse me?” I said.
“Between them.”
“Omenita and him?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “I don't understand.”
“It's kind of a long story,” I said. “But the long and short of it is, his mom and dad got divorced. And when they did, his mom moved to Texas and she took him with her. And that's where he's been until now.”
“So, when he left, they broke up?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“And then you started seeing her.”
“About a month or two later.”
“How old were you?”
“I was in the eleventh grade,” I said.
“And you've been with her ever since?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Going on six years.”
“And during that time have you ever dated anyone else?”
“No,” I said.
“Not even while you were away at school?”
“No,” I said.
“Really?” she said.
“Really.”
“Did you ever think about it?”
“No,” I said. “I didn't.”
“Are you serious?” she asked, and I could tell she did not believe me.
“I'm serious,” I said.
“Let me get this straight,” she said. “You were at LSU. With all of those beautiful southern belles. And you never even thought about it?”
“Never thought about it,” I said.
“Wow!” she said. “That's amazing.”
“I love her,” I said. “I always have and I imagine I always will.”
“Unbelievable,” she said.
“You have to remember,” I said. “I majored in engineering.”
“And?” she said.
“Well, when I wasn't in class, I was in the lab, and when I wasn't in the lab I was working some odd job trying to help my parents pay for school. I just didn't have the time nor did I have the interest. I have always been serious about engineering. Plus, there just aren't that many black girls at LSU.”
“And?” she said again.
I hesitated a moment, then it dawned on me what she was asking me.

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