Till We Meet Again (3 page)

On Christmas Day, our Uncle Willie would sneak away and dress up as Santa Claus. Our aunts and uncles would make all of us kids sit down on the living room floor and the next thing we’d hear was “Ho, Ho, Ho” coming from upstairs. We’d look up and there would come Santa down the stairs cracking jokes like only Uncle Willie could. People often compared him to the comedian Richard Pryor and always said for more reasons than his jokes. We kids would laugh so hard we’d cry. Santa would pass out envelopes with a brand new $20 bill in each. Even as teenagers we didn’t care if Santa, i.e., our grandparents, only gave us $20 we were having so much fun.

The Open House/New Year’s Day celebration was for everyone. There was no sit down dinner, no kids’ tables tonight, there were food warmers filled with food on the hutch; china, crystal and silverware on the sideboard and the dining room table with its Egyptian tablecloth was filled with platters and bowls of food. Just about anything you could think of was there. The dining room as always was packed with people filling their plates and talking.

My grandfather – who only stood at 5’7” - always seemed to be the center of attention telling one of his stories. But at this point, he was the center of attention to two of my little cousins, Andy and Sam, ages 9 and 10. He was conjugating Latin verbs. Grandpa was very fond of letting people know he was fluent in Latin. A language he learned back in boarding school, so many years ago. His cocoa brown skin and bright eyes showed off his pearly white teeth. My cousins watched Grandpa with a look of complete devotion on their face. I recognized that look all too well. As I have looked at him that way for most of my life. Walking by with a smile I ruffle the soft curls of little Andy who was so caught up in watching Grandpa, he didn’t even notice my presence.

My grandmother sat on the high back dining room chair surrounded by some of our church members. She spoke softly to the members while quietly giving orders to the help hired for the party. As I watched her I was reminded of a Queen holding court. No longer the young girl with a tiny waist that my grandfather first fell in love with so many years ago.  A little plumb, her hair cut short and a little gray; not one wrinkle on her beautiful smooth caramel colored face. She glanced over at my grandfather, who happened to be glancing at her at the same time. They smiled at each other. And for just a moment there seemed to be no one in that room, in that large house but just the two of them, lovers and best friends forever. A love I longed to experience when I got older.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting at a table for two, across from a sexy, successful man, surrounded by soft candlelight, and soft music playing in the background, all I could think of was “What the hell am I doing here?”

I never did this before. Go out to dinner with someone I’ve only known for a few hours? This wasn’t at all like me. I had decided to make some changes in my life after the boys graduated from college, but was I going too far? What did I know about this guy, Charles? He could be a mass murderer for all I knew. I should have watched “America’s Most Wanted” last night.

Well, if this is the end, I should enjoy the time I have left.

     “This is a wonderful place. I haven’t been here in quite a while,” I said looking around at the upscale Italian restaurant, “It’s really beautiful.”

     “Yes, it is,” Charles said, looking directly into my eyes.

I reached for my glass and took a sip of wine, O.K., a gulp.

     “You seem nervous,” he said.

     “Do I?” I said, going in for a second gulp, instead taking a dainty little sip.

     “I don’t bite,” joked Charles while raising his eyebrows as if to suggest, “Unless you want me to”.

     “Are you playing some kind of game with me?” I asked suspiciously, narrowing my eyes.

     “I don’t play games like that. Look,” he continued taking a more serious tone. “I have to admit I was a bit amused when we first met in the elevator.”

I felt myself blush.

     “When we met again at the workshop and our seats happened to be next to each other I was pleasantly surprised. And after talking with you for about 3 minutes I was intrigued. I’m not playing games; I have no agenda. You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman. I want to get to know you better. It’s just that simple.”

Did he say “beautiful?” How much wine did he drink?

     “Thank you,” I said having no clue what to say at this point.

     “So Simone, tell me, where are you from originally?”

     “I was born and raised right here in Westchester County.”

     “Oh yea? Here in White Plains?”

     “No, a small town in Northern Westchester…Quaker Ridge.”

     “Really?” Charles said with raised eyebrows. “Isn’t that where the former president lives?”

     “Yes, but we were there first,” I said with a smirk while taking a sip of my wine. Raising my chin I put my glass back down on the table and looked Charles in the eyes.

     He smiled. “I didn’t know they had any blacks there at that time.”

     “We were the first,” I shrugged my shoulders. “It wasn’t always easy,” I continued while tracing the embroidery of the tablecloth. “It took some getting used to but we managed.”

     “What do you mean ‘managed’?” Charles asked with actual concern on his face.

     A little hesitant I continued, “Well, some of the kids only knew of the blacks they saw on TV or their hired help”. I hesitated again.

     Charles took my hand, “Go ahead,” he said.

     “There were a few incidences but the one I remember the most was during our 1
st
year living there. I was about 10 years old. I was so excited because I had been invited to a sleepover for one of the popular girl’s birthday. Ten of us had been invited. A friend’s mother had given some of us girls a ride to the party. We were introduced to the birthday girl’s family. A few of the girls already knew them.  Then we all went downstairs into the family room and laid out our sleeping bags. The party was just about to start but I remembered my grandmother’s rule. I had to call grandma from the house; let her know I was there safely and give her the phone number.”

Looking down at my plate I continued. “When I went upstairs to ask permission to use the phone the family was sitting in the kitchen talking quietly. But I heard the girl’s little brother say ‘I know what she is…she’s a black nigger!’ Before I could turn around and leave, the mother saw me. She was clearly embarrassed. Before she could say anything I asked permission to call my grandmother. I walked across the kitchen floor; called Grandma and gave her the phone number to the house. The family sat behind me quietly but you could feel the tension in the room. I’m not sure if they were afraid I’d tell my grandmother what I just heard. I hung up the phone, turned around and thanked the family for letting me use the phone. The father cleared his throat and said ‘I’m sorry about what you just heard’ I felt my face heat up with embarrassment. I said ‘that’s ok’ and ran downstairs to the family room before he could say another word.

When I got downstairs all the girls were playing with each other’s long silky blond and brunette hair. They looked at me and they instantly wanted to touch my curly/frizzy hair. They kept saying how weird it felt. I felt so out of place. I wouldn’t let them touch it anymore. Besides my grandmother would kill me if I came home with my hair all tangled. So I walked over to the snack table and started filling up on chips and M&M’s. The party I had looked forward to was a disaster as far as I was concerned. All I wanted to do was go home. But going upstairs to the kitchen to use the phone again was not an option.”

     “Wow” Charles said quietly.

     For a minute I had forgotten he was even there.  I said to him, “I hadn’t thought of that incident in many, many years.” I looked into Charles’ face. “I never told anyone that story.”

     “It’s ok.” Charles took both my hands. “You can trust me Simone.”

And for some reason I really felt like I could trust him.

     As if to lighten the mood Charles said. “I went to Benedict High School, an all boys’ school. We didn’t play with each other’s’ hair.” He smiled.

     “Oh really,” I smiled back.

     “Yup.”

     “Wait a minute,” I said. “Benedict in New York City?” I said putting my wine glass down.

     “Yes,” he said nonchalantly.

Benedict was a private all boys’ school that only accepted about 500 kids, very exclusive, very impressive, and maybe 5% black.  One of the Financial Advisors I worked with over the years sent his son to Benedict.

     “That was not a very diverse school back in the day and even now,” I said wondering if he had any stories.

     “No it wasn’t but I was smart and good in sports. That’s all guys even care about.

     “True, true,” I agreed. “So did you grow up in New York City?” I asked.

     “Actually in Brooklyn,” he said, again nonchalantly. Since I didn’t know that much about Brooklyn there was no point in asking him which section. And he didn’t volunteer.

As the evening continued, small talk turned into an in depth conversation on various topics, including the finance business, world events, politics, spirituality, Charles’ love of jazz, and other things. On most topics we agreed…on others we vehemently disagreed.

     “You know, I don’t know that I’ve ever been called an ‘absolute idiot’ before?” Charles said looking surprised, but amused. “Yes, this has to be the first.”

     “I don’t understand how you can be such a successful, intelligent man and still be an idiot all at the same time,” I said in a huff.

     “Well, I don’t agree with you,” he said with a smirk.

     “And why not?” I said absolutely appalled.

     “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe that Lawrence Taylor is the best defensive player of all time!”

     “That’s ridiculous!” I said looking at him as if he just spilled red wine on my brand new Prada shoes, which I don’t own but that’s beside the point.

O.K. so I do tend to get a little excited when it comes to football, especially about my New York Giants. But facts are facts, damn it! LT
is
the best defensive player of all time, plain and simple. Well, what do you expect from a Dallas fan?

     “Alright, why don’t we agree to disagree?” he said holding out his hand for a shake.

     I eyed his hand in disgust. “I don’t know,” I said. “You’ve gone down a few notches in my book. You’re not as smart as I thought you were.”

     He took my hand and said, “Why don’t we go out again and maybe I can convince you otherwise.”

I looked down at our joined hands and realized it wasn’t a shake at all, but more of a caress. I looked up into his eyes and saw something there that caused my stomach to do somersaults again.

     “Well?” he asked.

I looked at his lips and the somersaults went down a bit further.

     “Well?” he asked again with a smile “I’ll be in Westchester Friday after next for a meeting. I could pick you up and we can make a night of it. Maybe catch a movie?”

     I hesitated. “That sounds good,” I said. “There’s a nice movie theater right here in White Plains.”

     “Perfect,” he said still holding my hand. “I can meet you in your office?”

     “O.K.” I said feeling a little light headed. I could feel my heart beat right through my chest.

What was I doing? Was I ready for this? Did I even know what
this
was?

He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. “Good,” he said releasing my hand.

I reluctantly pulled my hand back. I took a sip of wine. I smiled at Charles and thought to myself, I better get waxed before next week.

1

It’s 4:10. This conference call was supposed to be over at 4:00. Charles should be here any minute.

It’s a week after the workshop. We have spoken every night since. Sometimes we spoke once or twice during the day, as well. We never seemed to run out of things to say. Charles has such a great sense of humor and the sexiest phone voice I ever heard. A few times he commented on my phone voice. Yes, I know. I can turn on my “phone sex” voice when I’m motivated. And Charles is the best motivator I have ever met.

Five minutes later I was still on the conference call and answering a question the Branch Manager on the call had just posed. Charles walked into my office in mid-sentence. I tried to act professionally waving him in without missing a beat and without forgetting what the heck I was talking about.

Charles gave me his sexiest smile and sat in the chair across from my desk. As the Branch Manager asked another question, Charles reached into the candy dish on my desk and pulled out a lollipop. I began answering the question as Charles slowly pulled the wrapper from the lollipop. Opening his mouth I could see his tongue slightly reach out to meet the lollipop.

What the hell was the question?

Charles put the lollipop in his mouth and began to suck it. Those damn lips were doing a job on me. As he continued to suck the lollipop I tried to find a way to give the short version of my answer. When I couldn’t take anymore I looked up into Charles eyes. His eyes were smiling at me? He knew exactly what he was doing. That son of a ……

     “I’m sorry, what did you say? Yes, that’s fine,” I answered into the phone. Mercifully the call ended. I gave Charles a steely look.

    “Hello Charles,” I said in my most professional voice.

     “Hi there,” he said pulling the lollipop out of his mouth. “I hope I didn’t interrupt your call,” he smiled.

     “You’re an evil man, Mr. Dupree,” I smiled.

     “I know,” he said with confidence. With that he stood up and walked around my office looking at the various certificates hanging on the wall.

     “Very impressive,” he nodded.

     “I know,” I said in the same tone he used when speaking the same words.

     He turned with a knowing smile. “Are you ready to go?” he asked.

     “Yes,” I said.

     “I thought we’d take my car.”

     “That’ll be fine,” I said taking my purse. With his hand at the small of my back, he led me out the door, into the hallway and into a waiting elevator.

As soon as the elevator door closed he moved over to me, as if to kiss me. But the elevator stopped on the next floor. Those damn elevators. Something’s got to be done with them.

As the elevator filled up with people, Charles remained close to me. I could feel the heat from his body and smell his cologne. God he smelled so good.

We reached the lobby where he returned his visitor’s pass to security. We walked across the parking lot and stopped in front of a black Audi. Charles opened the passenger door and I slid in as he closed the door, rounded the hood, and entered on the driver’s side. As I adjusted my seatbelt, Charles leaned over and kissed me. I know it’s corny to say his lips should be registered as a lethal weapon. But when it’s true… How can one person do so much damage with a kiss that only lasted a few seconds? I swear I felt light headed. What was I, sixteen again?

     “I’ve been dying to do that all week,” he said looking into my eyes.

     “I’m glad you didn’t wait any longer,” I said.

Deciding we’d eat after the movie, we reached the movie theatre much too quickly.

After dinner we decided to take a walk around downtown White Plains. We stopped at the fountain, in the center of town.

     “The Fall sure came quickly this year,” I said.

     “Are you cold?” Charles asked.

     “Actually it’s my favorite time of the year,” I continued. “No, I’m fine.”

Charles took my hand. When I looked up at him he was watching me rather intensely.

     “Is something wrong?” I asked.

     “No. I was just thinking. I’m really enjoying the time we’ve been spending together.”

     “You sound surprised,” I laughed.

     “I am.”

I raised an eyebrow in question.

     “I didn’t mean it like that,” he laughed. “I’m just saying…I can be a bit of a workaholic.”

     “It takes one to know one,” I said shaking my head.

     “Yeah, but…”

     “Charles, just say it,” I said, wondering where this was going.

     “I’m always focused on my work. That’s what I do. But for this entire week you have been on my mind 24/7.”

     “And that’s a bad thing?” I smiled.

     “Well, I don’t know…. I keep thinking about our conversations, your face, your voice and even the smell of your perfume. I’m thinking about you when I work, while I’m working out at the gym, even in my sleep.”

Did he just say he dreams about me? Holy shit!

     “It’s just going so fast,” he continued.

     “So this is a problem?” I said, trying to get to the point.

     “No, it’s just not me. I don’t lose focus. I don’t get distracted.”

    “Because you usually cause the distraction, is that it,” I asked.

     “Well…yeah!”

     “A little full of yourself, aren’t you?” I said, not liking the direction this conversation was going.

     “No, no, don’t get me wrong. I’m just not use to this. And, frankly, I thought I was too old for this.”

Somehow I refrained from asking him what exactly “this” was. It wasn’t easy.

We continued to walk and as the light of the passing cars reflected on his face I saw a worry line start to form. I don’t remember it being there before.

Here we go, I thought. He’s getting cold feet. What is with these guys? This is why I stay by myself. I can’t deal with the rollercoaster crap they pull. Either you’re interested or you’re not. Either you want to move ahead in this relationship (whatever that is) or you don’t. Just another disappointment, I’m so sick of this…

Just then Charles stopped walking. He turned me to face him. He grabbed the back of my hair so I was forced to look up at him. Just as he mumbled “what the hell!” he brought his lips down to mine. After a moment or two he parted my lips with his tongue. I lost it. I couldn’t think. All I knew was that I have never experienced a kiss like that before. He held me tighter. It had been so long since I’ve been touched. So long since I’ve wanted to be touched. The desire I felt between us was something I had never felt before.

The kiss must have affected him the same way it affected me, because when our lips drew apart I heard him say, “Holy shit!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “What are you doing this weekend?” Charles asked as we pulled in next to my black Saab.

     “I’m going to dinner with the girls on Saturday,” I said.

     “Here in White Plains?” he asked.

     “Yes.”

     “That’s good,” he said, sounding distracted.

     “Why?” I asked.

              “Nothing,” he turned off the car. “I was wondering,” he turned toward me, “if you would want to come over to my place next Saturday? I’ll make dinner.”

     “You cook?” I asked surprised.

     “Yes, I do,” he smiled.

Wow, this is definitely the man for me.

     “Good!” he said. “Bring an overnight bag. You can sleep in the guestroom.”

     “Really?” I said, not believing him for a minute.

     “Really,” he answered. “I will be a perfect gentleman.”

Well, I certainly hope not, I thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “He invited you to his home for dinner?” Melissa said surprised.

I nodded.

     “And you’re going?” Patricia said astonished. She put her Sangria down on the table.

The Mexican music played in the background as I nodded again and reached for my strawberry margarita.

     “You won’t change your mind?” Moira asked suspiciously.

     “No,” I answered taking a sip.

     “You won’t chicken out?” Janice said in disbelief.

I shook my head as I put a chip and salsa in my mouth.

We sat at the round table of our favorite Mexican restaurant in silence. My four closest friends. I looked back at them as they simultaneously looked like they had just been struck by lightning.

Janice finally broke the silence. “Well it’s about damn time!” She reached for her gin and tonic.

     “I can’t believe it!” Moira lifted her glass of ginger ale in a silent toast.

     “You’re actually going,” Patricia smiled.

     “Yup,” I said taking another dip into the salsa.

I’ve worked with all four women at one time or another during my career in finance. We were now all great friends. And have been for many years. We faithfully got together every four months no matter what was going on in our lives. Except for Janice we were all in our early 40’s.  

Janice, an Executive Assistant for a large insurance company, was in her mid-fifties, but looked like she was in her mid-forties. She did Pilates every day, was obsessed with keeping her porcelain skin out of the sun and had legs like Tina Turner. Janice had been divorced for many years. She was a mom of two grown children and one grandchild. The oldest in the group, she also happened to have a more active sex life than any of us.

Melissa, an Executive for a hedge fund, was a single mom in her early 40’s with a daughter just starting high school. Melissa had a boyfriend who was a bond trader. They both were the highest-ranking African-Americans at each of their firms. Melissa owned her own home and her boyfriend, Edward, had a townhouse on the other side of town. He was divorced with a pre-teen daughter. And unlike the exes of the women at the table he was very involved in his daughter’s everyday life. Melissa, a self-proclaimed independent woman, was happy living her own life. However, she was very much in love with Edward. But she also loved the fact that they could be together day in and day out, but go their separate ways whenever the mood would strike. They had been living that way for over five years. Melissa saw no reason to change things no matter how many times Edward asked her to marry him.

Moira’s husband was a Stock-Broker. I was very proud of the fact that I was instrumental in “fixing them up” when the three of us worked together at the same brokerage firm. Moira and I were both young, divorced, single mothers at the time. Moira had a two-year old daughter and my sons were five and six years old. Moira always wanted to have more children and be a stay at home mom. She now had her wish. Her husband, Dave, adopted her daughter. And the very Irish looking girls suddenly had a very Italian last name. Their daughter was now in her 2nd year of college. And Moira and Dave had two more small children.

Patricia our red haired siren and Accountant, was also a divorced mom and had a daughter in college. She lived with her boyfriend, Tony, for almost ten years. She was now Tony’s accountant. His roofing business was doing very well. They were now talking about buying a vacation home. Since both of them had gone through very painful divorces the talk of marriage never seemed to come up and both Tony and Patricia seemed pleased with the status quo.