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Authors: Trice Hickman

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Thicker Than Water. . .
The Presleys left right before dinner, even though Dorothy had begged them to stay. “I've lost my appetite,” was Pamela's short response.
Sitting at the large banquet table in the Brightwoods' ultra-formal dining room, with more than twenty of Parker's relatives, Victoria watched as Francis, the help, set the last of the holiday feast on the buffet table. Victoria balked at the fact that Parker's mother had actually made the poor woman wear a gray maid's uniform, and cringed even more when Parker said he didn't find anything wrong with it. “It's just formality,” he'd said.
“Victoria, I have to say that I'm surprised my son brought you home to meet the family after dating for only three short months,” Dorothy said with icy skepticism. Everyone around the table looked uncomfortable after her comment.
“Aunt Dot, you can't put a time table on love when you find that special someone,” cousin Samantha spoke up, giving Victoria a wink. She leaned over close and whispered in Victoria's ear, “By the way, she hates it when anyone calls her
Dot
. I do it just to fuck with her.”
Victoria smiled at Samantha's little gab, then lifted her glass of Pinot Grigio to her lips in favor of giving Parker's mother a piece of her mind.
“Victoria, I think you're a lovely young woman,” Fred Brightwood jumped in. “My blessings are with the two of you. Welcome to the family, dear,” he said as if it were a foregone conclusion that Victoria would soon be hyphenating her last name to add Brightwood to her title.
“Let's not jump the gun,” Dorothy scolded in a playful, yet serious tone. “You don't want to rush these two.”
“Dad's right,” Parker nodded, “when it's right you know it. And believe me, I know it this time.”
“Yes, you're a lucky man to have such a beautiful woman,” Mason added.
Parker looked squarely at his older brother, and Victoria sensed an unsettling edge in his body language that screamed something was wrong. “That's the third time today that you've mentioned my girlfriend's obvious beauty,” Parker said in a threatening tone.
Now everyone at the huge table was aware that something wasn't right. Mason's wife looked at her husband with growing irritation.
“I didn't know you were counting, little brother,” Mason replied with sarcasm.
Parker smirked, trying to control the anger that was rising in his voice. “I have to keep an eye on you, big brother.”
“What's gotten into you boys?” Dorothy snapped, looking at Parker. “Your brother's just trying to pay your dinner guest a compliment.”
Victoria had to take another sip of wine. Dorothy had just referred to her as a
dinner guest
. She knew that Victoria was more than that; she was Parker's girlfriend. And from what Parker's father, and Parker himself had just said, she would soon be a member of the family. But Victoria knew the comment was Dorothy's way of letting her know where she stood in her book.
“Nothing's gotten into me, Mother. Why don't you ask Mason what's his problem?” Parker said in an accusatory tone.
“What are you trying to say, Parker?” Mason asked, shielding his wife's suspicious eyes.
“You know exactly what I'm saying.”
Mason cleared his throat. “I think you better calm down. Clearly you're letting the wrong head do your thinking,” he volleyed smoothly as he buttered his freshly baked dinner roll. Victoria almost choked!
“I know you'd like to have what I have and that's your damn problem, Mason. Don't think I didn't see you looking at Victoria today. I saw you watching her when she was standing in front of the tree, helping the kids unwrap gifts.”
“Parker!” his mother shouted. Fred simply looked on in astonishment.
But Parker continued. “And I saw you looking at her last night when we were doing the champagne toast. Let's not pretend. We all know how you are.”
“You can say that again,” cousin Samantha slid in, under her breath.
Parker stared directly at Mason's wife, who looked as if she could spit in her husband's face because she'd witnessed first-hand the truth of Parker's words. “I know what you're capable of, so I'm warning you, back the fuck off because in this case, blood isn't thicker than water, my brother!”
“Now that's quite enough!” Fred finally stepped in.
Parker had just called his brother out in front of the entire family, and his wife, who'd already jumped down his throat about her suspicions. Mason was green with envy and mad as hell. He ignored his father's attempted intervention. “My, aren't we bold these days. You better tread lightly,” he threatened.
“You're jealous,” Parker snarled.
“And you're pussy whipped.”
“See what happens when you bring just anyone to dinner,” Dorothy said, shaking her head with anger.
“
Excuse me?
” Victoria shouted, giving Dorothy a look that could melt ice. “I'm not the one talking about pussy at the dinner table!” she corrected, letting her words fly out like darts in Dorothy's direction.
“
Damn,
this is gettin' good!” Samantha chuckled, watching the fiasco unfold.
Parker leaned forward in his seat. “Yeah, I'm probably whipped, and you wish you could be too. It kills you that you can't have her. I heard it in your voice when you called to rub it in my face after you saw Victoria that day at Tavern on the Green. Well, she's with me and we love each other. For once in your life can't you be happy for anyone other than yourself? Why do you always have to be the top dog? You have a wife who loves you and two beautiful kids sleeping upstairs who adore you. Why can't you be satisfied with your happiness?”
Mason threw his linen napkin on the table. “You don't know shit about my happiness,” he yelled.
“See the trouble you've caused,” Dorothy glared at Victoria.
“I've had it,” Victoria huffed, “this unwanted dinner guest is gettin' the hell up outta here.” She rose from the table with Parker following on her heels. They left the rest of the Brightwoods sitting at the well-appointed table in complete silence.
I
'
m Stating Facts...
Later that night in their hotel room, Parker and Victoria were lying in bed. “Baby, I'm sorry about what happened. Mason's behavior was completely uncalled for. This competition thing between us goes way back, but I never knew it was this deep. He's obviously going through some things,” Parker said.
“I had your brother's number the first time I met him. But I'm not half as upset with Mason as I am with your mother.”
“My mother? Why are you upset with her?”
Victoria searched Parker's face. He was truly clueless. “Did you not hear the insults she hurled at me from the minute I walked through the door? All the inappropriate questions, her
dinner guest
comment, the way she blubbered over Pamela, not to mention the fact that it was obvious she hadn't told anyone that I was coming home with you. She even blamed Mason's womanizing on me! Were you not a witness to all that?”
“I think you're overreacting. She's always treated the women we've brought home with a judging eye, but it's nothing personal. She's just protective of her boys. I've never known Mother to be insulting, at least not the way you're suggesting.”
“I'm not suggesting, I'm stating facts.” Victoria paused. “She's probably never made off-handed remarks to any of the women you've dated because none of them have ever looked like me. They all look like Pamela and the rest of those bitches in your photo album.”
“Here we go with that again.”
“You think this is just something that's in my head. You think I'm
overreacting?
”
Parker nodded his head, irritation spreading across his face. “At times, yes.”
“Didn't you hear the way your mother talked to me? Or were you too wrapped up in your pissing contest with your big brother to notice?”
Parker got up, his naked body bouncing off the light reflected from the window across the room.
“Where are you going?” Victoria demanded.
“To take a shower; I think one of us needs to cool off.”
Victoria listened to the sound of running water that filled the room, and thought about her past that never quite seemed to go away. She felt seven years old again, lying in bed, preparing to cry herself to sleep.
Buried All The Love
. . .
It was the day after New Year's, and Hartsfield International Airport was buzzing with activity. Parker and Victoria stood at the private gate reserved for the Africa Project participants and their families, and waited for the boarding announcement. Their Christmas holidays had been rocky, but the last few days had made up for it.
After their argument on Christmas evening, Parker felt terrible that Victoria had been brought to tears and he knew that he was partially responsible for her state. He apologized over and over. After they made up he went downstairs to the gift shop to get her Tylenol for the headache that he and his family had caused. When he returned to their room, he massaged her back and kneaded the tension from her shoulders. Then he laid her across the feather down bed, opened her wide, and buried all the love he had inside her.
They decided to leave the next morning, putting an abrupt end to their catastrophic visit. But before they headed to the airport, they made a quick stop by the Brightwood house. Victoria remained in the car while Parker went inside. He confronted his mother and made it clear that Victoria was going to be a permanent part of his life, then told her that she needed to change her attitude toward the woman he loved if she wanted to see her third-born child during the holidays again. Reluctantly, Dorothy Brightwood acquiesced.
As for Mason, who'd already packed up his family and headed back home to New York, that was a more sensitive subject. After a long phone conversation with his brother, Parker confided to Victoria that Mason's home life had been unhappy for years, and that his marriage was speeding fast toward divorce. He and Parker made amends, but they both acknowledged their unresolved issues that still lingered, and made a pact with each other to work toward resolving them.
After they came back to Atlanta, they made the most of the short time they had left. Although Parker was pissed when Ted called Victoria on New Year's Day, he didn't say anything. The last thing he wanted to do was leave the country for six months after having an argument over Ted Thornton.
The flight attendant began boarding passengers.
“I'm gonna miss you so much, baby,” Parker said as he held Victoria in his arms.
She sniffled, trying to hold back the tears that came anyway. “I'll miss you too.”
Parker rocked her back and forth, savoring the memory of the love they'd made the night before, something he knew he was going to miss in the months to come. “I'll email and call when I can,” he told her.
“Promise?”
He nodded and smiled. “I promise.” He inhaled her sweet perfume, already missing her. “I know we've had our disagreements, but I love you, Victoria.”
The flight attendant announced the final boarding call for all passengers as they shared one last kiss. Parker gently wiped the tears from Victoria's eyes, fought back the urge to openly shed his own, then walked onto the plane.
Chapter Eighteen
A Mixed Blessing...
Victoria was clad in her white bikini, stylish high-heel sandals, and Jackie O–style sunglasses. She and Juliet were lounging on the cruise ship's upper deck, enjoying the protection that their wide umbrella provided from the hot Caribbean sun. She was working on her second strawberry daiquiri, complements of the generous male admirers sending drinks her way.
“Girl, I wish this wasn't our last day of the cruise,” Juliet said, sipping her melon margarita.
“I know, but I'm glad your job let you have time off so soon.”
“Before I started, I told them that I already had this cruise planned. And besides, I needed the break. Between renting out my apartment in New York, moving in with Tyler last month, and starting the new job, it was time for a break.”
They both looked up as Tyler approached. “You ladies have been out here for hours. You ready to head back in?” he asked Juliet.
She smiled, giving him a peck on the cheek. “We'll see you later, Victoria,” and with that they were off.
As Victoria watched the two lovers stroll back to their cabin room, she thought about Parker and how he should've been there with her, enjoying the cruise. He'd only been gone for a little more than two months, but it seemed like an eternity. The first few weeks, even with the village's limited communications equipment, they'd emailed and talked on the phone at least twice a week. But once the pace of the clinic started to pick up, their emails and phone calls slowed.
Life without Parker was lonely at times, so Victoria was grateful she had the SuperNet project and her growing business to fill her time. Her schedule had become so busy, it forced her to finally open up to Ted about her plans to leave ViaTech and run Divine Occasions full-time. It had been a big weight off her shoulders, and she was glad she didn't have to continue keeping something so important from him any longer. And although he was completely supportive of her plans, offering to help her in any way he could, Victoria had come to view her relationship with Ted as a mixed blessing.
He was thoughtful, a good listener, and he made her laugh until her sides hurt. But day by day he was forcing her to reevaluate beliefs she'd held all her life, deep-rooted beliefs about the foundation of relationships between men and women, based on race.
But the thing that bothered Victoria the most, the thing she couldn't get out of her mind as she lay under the warm Caribbean sun, with her many admirers looking on and a handsome and successful boyfriend who loved her, was that all she could think about was Ted.
Later that evening, Victoria walked out onto the balcony of her cabin. She breathed in the salty ocean air for clarity, but her thoughts still felt crowded and confused. She picked up her cell phone and called her mother, pouring her heart out about her dilemma. This was the conversation that Elizabeth had known was coming for some time.
“What do you think about your daughter falling in love with a white man?” Victoria asked. She shocked herself, realizing this was the first time she'd admitted that she loved Ted.
“What matters is what you think,” Elizabeth answered.
“Mom, come on.”
“Sweetheart, I can't tell you who to love.”
Victoria's voice was quiet and unsure. “How can I choose?”
“Listen to your heart. Choose the man who makes your heart sing. The man who makes it ache when you're not with him, and feel full when you are, the man who knows your flaws and still loves you anyway, and above all, the man who will be your friend and cherish and protect that relationship.”
“But I feel that way about both of them.”
Elizabeth was silent for a moment. She knew she had to measure her next words carefully. “I've had to fight the same demons you've fought. Some used to say you were too dark . . . well, some used to say I was too light. Growing up I caught hell. I was called everything from half-breed to white girl. I was too white to be black, and too black to be white, for some folks' taste. That's a terrible in between.
“It wasn't until I fell in love with your father, that I felt for the first time in my life that I was totally and completely accepted for just being me. There was no dark or light, no good or bad, just love. And, sweetheart, in the end, nothing else matters but the love.”
“What are you saying, Mom?”
“I'm saying that whoever you choose, make that decision based on who
you
want. Don't look for permission or approval from anyone. You've always known what was best for you, even when your father and I couldn't see it, and you know what's best for you now. Just trust yourself.”
“Mom, you say that I know what's best for me, but this is one time I don't.”
“You know more than you think. Just pray and the answers will come.”
Get A Substitute. . .
The Monday after Victoria returned from the cruise, her body was in shock from experiencing the warmth of the Caribbean sun one day, and Atlanta's unusually cold February freeze the next. She got through the long work week, glad that it was Friday night. She made a quick dinner, then checked her email and answering machine. She didn't have any messages from Parker, so she sent him a quick email. Not quite ready to turn in so early, she grabbed a handful of chocolates and settled onto the couch before dialing Debbie's number.
“Hey, Debbie. It's me,” Victoria said, munching on a roasted almond truffle.
“Stop eating in my ear,” Debbie teased. “How was the cruise?”
“It was great. I really needed the getaway. How're you feeling?”
“I'm good, but hungry as hell! I've never eaten so much in my entire life. I'm bigger now than I was in the pictures I emailed you a couple of weeks ago. You should see me!” Debbie said with a joy that Victoria had never heard in her friend's voice.
“I can't wait for my godchild to arrive. I'm so excited.”
“You and me both. Hey, have you heard from Parker?”
“Not since before I left for the cruise,” Victoria said, trying to stay happy but not feeling it.
“You miss him bad, don't you? I can hear it in your voice.”
“Yeah, I do. Even though we had our disagreements, especially right before he left, we had so much fun together. Parker is the most gentle, romantic man I've ever known, and some nights I get so lonely without him.” Victoria paused. “Once you've gone without sex for a long time and then you start again, it's hard as hell to go cold turkey, especially when it's good. And let me tell you, Parker is good!”
“How good?”
“I'll put it like this . . . I think he got his degree in How to Eat Pussy, not Cardiology,” Victoria said, making Debbie burst into laughter.
“Damn, that's a tough act to follow. The only thing I can tell you to do is get a substitute.”
“Are you crazy? Let me remind you that the consumption of alcohol is ill-advised during pregnancy.”
“What I mean is that you need to hook yourself up. Make a trip to that sex shop I used to go to downtown.”
“I hate going into those places.”
“Well, my dear, you've got three choices. You can either stock your shelves with some battery operated goodies, find a live and willing participant, or block it out of your mind.”
“Great,” Victoria said, depressed with the prospects.
“There's one other option.”
“What's that?”
“Call Ted. I'm sure he'll be glad to come over and knock the edge off.”
“Please . . . ”
“You know I'm right. Why can't you just admit that he's crazy about you and that you like him too? I hear the way you sound when you talk about him.”
“Debbie, it's complicated.”
“Why? Because he's white?”
“Yes, partially. But also because I have a boyfriend. I love Parker and I couldn't cheat on him. I know what that's like and I'd never put him through that.”
As only a true friend could, Debbie spoke frankly, from her heart. “I understand what you're saying, Victoria, really I do. But I think that Ted's race is the bigger issue for you, not your love for Parker. At some point you just have to say fuck it! You have to look beyond the man's skin and look at how you feel about him.”
Victoria sighed. “Listen, it's late so I'll let you go.”
“You're not letting me go, you're brushing me off, but that's all right. I still love you anyway.”
“I love you too . . . and thanks,” Victoria said before they ended their call.
She Called Out...
Two weeks later Victoria found herself standing in the large upper-floor gallery of the ViaTech building. Last March Ted had arrived at the company, and now, a year later, he was the official chief executive officer and fifty percent owner of ViaTech, Inc. Tonight's affair not only marked that occasion, it also celebrated the fact that while other telecom companies were beginning to take a hit, Ted had managed to realign ViaTech's business model, putting them securely on top of their competitors. Senior managers and directors from the company's remote locations across the east coast were all in town for the event.
After a few hours of mixing and mingling, Victoria was ready to leave. “Denise, I'm going to call it a night. I have an early morning meeting with a prospective client,” she said.
“Are you going to say goodbye to Ted?” Denise asked, giving her a devilish grin.
Victoria had been trying to keep her distance from Ted all evening. This was a big event with lots of prying eyes, so she wanted to be careful about their contact. “No, I'm just going to slip out. If you see him, tell him I said good night.”
Later that evening, Victoria ran herself a hot bath and tried to relax. She was lonely, and her body ached for attention. She toweled off and walked over to her nightstand. She opened the drawer and pulled out the vibrator she'd bought last week when she went “girl shopping” with Juliet and Gigi.
“You need to find one that's true to his size and form,” Gigi had suggested from her vast experience in such matters.
Victoria's eyes scanned the selections until she came across what appeared to be a close match to Parker. She pulled it from the shelf and examined it through the clear plastic packaging.
“That's true to Parker's size?” Juliet asked.
Victoria held it out as they all studied the sex toy. “Yeah, pretty much,” she finally concluded.
“My, aren't you a lucky one,” Gigi smiled.
It still doesn't beat the real thing, but beggars can't be choosers,
Victoria reasoned as she lay back on her fluffy comforter, parted her legs, and put the toy to work. She squirmed with pleasure as she fulfilled her needs, gently fondling herself in places she'd been deprived. Her body grew warm and full under her own touch as she moaned, enjoying the feel of her soft wetness. Her inner muscles tightened as the intense feeling of orgasmic euphoria filled her body. She moaned loudly, gave in to it, and allowed the rush to come
. “Ooohhh Teeeddd,”
she called out.
Her eyes sprang open. The moaning—halted. The sensations—stopped. The euphoria—gone. Victoria sat up fast, letting the vibrator fall to the floor with a hard thud. She moved to the edge of the bed, naked and stunned, yet fully aware of what had just happened. A few minutes went by before she slipped on her nightgown and climbed back into bed.
When the phone rang, she didn't have to look at the caller ID to know who it was. “Hello,” she answered.
“I was calling to see if you're all right,” Ted's voice eased into her ear. “You left before I got a chance to see you tonight.”
“Um, yeah. I have an early morning meeting with a client . . . ”
“V, are you okay? You don't sound well.”
His concern was choking her. “I'm fine, just tired,” she said, pretending to yawn into the phone.
Reluctantly, Ted let her go. But now she was wide awake, as if the sun had just come up. She thought about her situation and all she could do was pray that the answers would come.
Let's Make A Deal. . .
The next morning, Victoria put her night behind her and concentrated on her nine a.m. meeting with Eva Masters. As she pulled into the driveway of the impressive brick home, she took in its intricate landscaping and detailed craftsmanship, hoping its occupant would be as inviting. Eva served on several boards and was one of the city's most notable socialites. She'd heard about Divine Occasions when she attended the YFI fundraiser with a friend whose husband was a major donor of the organization.
Victoria had received a frantic call from Eva three days ago. Initially, Eva's daughter had been adamant about not having a sweet sixteen birthday party, but after months of pleading, the disgruntled teenager finally gave in. “We've wasted valuable time and my little angel's birthday is only a week away,” Eva had told her.
Victoria didn't know if she could work this miracle, but with the type of money that Eva Masters was willing to spend, and the exposure and contacts this event would bring for Divine Occasions, she was going to do her best to pull it off. She stood in front of the mahogany double doors and rang the bell.
“Good morning,” the housekeeper greeted her. “Mrs. Masters is expecting you, please come with me.”
Victoria followed the woman into the light-filled living room where the lady of the house was waiting. Eva Masters was fiftyish, but it was apparent that she was fighting like hell not to look it. She was tall and ultra-thin, the latter being a coveted asset in her social circle. Victoria thought she looked like the society types she'd seen at the spa who spent thousands of dollars on seaweed wraps and other sorts of age-defying remedies, only to come out looking like middle-aged women who were barely holding on.
“Ms. Small, it's nice to meet you, I'm Eva Masters,” the socialite stood and greeted, extending her frail hand.
“Please, call me Victoria.”
“Then I insist you call me Eva.”
They sat across from each other in identical French Provincial high-back chairs. “Victoria, I'm so glad you agreed to see me on such short notice. Celeste's birthday is only a week away and as you can imagine, I'm at my wit's end. I hope you can help us.”
Victoria nodded her head, whipping out her notes from their phone conversation. “I'll certainly do my best.”
“Celeste is going to be a debutante, and I think this party will be the perfect precursor to her formal debut, a lovely sweet sixteen party,” Eva mused. “Ah, here's my angel now.”
When Victoria looked up she nearly fell out of her chair. Celeste was decked out in a long-sleeve black T-shirt that boasted a peace sign emblem, tattered low-rise jeans that were falling off her hips, and a pair of rundown shoes that looked two sizes too big; not at all the polo shirt and plaid skirt Victoria had expected.
“Dear, this is Ms. Small, the event planner I told you about,” Eva said with a nervous smile.
“Hey,” the teen said, plopping down onto the sofa. She smacked hard on her gum, blew a big bubble, then sucked it back into her mouth. “I'm Celeste.” Her long, chemically darkened tresses peeked through the sides of her black skully.
Victoria didn't want to stare, but she couldn't help it. “Hi, Celeste. It's nice to meet you.” She nodded with a smile.
Celeste looked at Victoria and leaned forward. “I don't know what my mother told you, but if I
have
to have this dumb party, I want something that's gonna rock, not some lame sugar and spice crap. That's totally WACK!”
Eva smiled uncomfortably, shifting in her seat while Victoria regained her sense of focus. “Okay, let's start by establishing a theme. What do you like to do for fun, Celeste?”
“I like clubbing and chillin' with my friends,” she grinned, playing with the string hanging from her black wristband. Eva shifted in her seat again.
Clubbing! She probably has a stash of phony IDs and a bag of weed under her bed,
Victoria thought.
“You like the beach too, don't you, dear,” Eva encouraged, looking for a more suitable answer to give.
Celeste rolled her eyes. “That's the only reason I'm agreeing to this party in the first place. I do the party and make you happy, and you give me a week in South Beach.”
Eva shifted in her seat again, growing more uncomfortable by the minute.
Victoria shot Eva a look. She was appalled that the woman was playing
Let's Make a Deal
with her own child.
“And I like to paint,” Celeste continued. “I'm really good with gouache, and I kick ass at video games too,” she smiled, blowing another bubble. At that moment, the housekeeper entered with a tray of tea and cookies, just in time to save Eva from fidgeting a hole through her chair.
As Victoria studied the rebellious teen, she realized that Celeste reminded her a lot of herself at that age: creative and bold, marching to the beat of the drum playing inside her head. But as she drank her tea and listened to the rebel without a cause, she became aware of a big difference between this girl and her younger self—Celeste Masters had already learned the art of negotiating to get what she wanted.
“Well, that gives me something to work with,” Victoria said, turning to Eva. “Since you'd like to host the party here, I'll need to have a look around your property.”
“Certainly, this way,” Eva motioned as they stood, glad for the reprieve from her daughter's rantings.
A half hour later, after touring the massive grounds out back and more conversation with the debutante in waiting, Victoria had come up with a theme that made both mother and daughter happy. Celeste was going to have a sweet sixteen beach party centered around the mosaic-tile pool out back. They'd have to rent a tent and portable heaters to offset the forty-degree temperature outside, but that was okay because Eva said she would spare no expense to ensure the party's success.
When Celeste suggested having male servers wear Speedos and serve Jell-O shots to her guests poolside, Victoria's eyes widened, and Eva got so upset she started hiccupping. “This party is gonna be killer!” Celeste smiled, smacking her gum.
“Celeste!” her mother finally hissed. “If you don't stop this nonsense your father and I will take away your weekend dress privileges. No more Woodstock clothes! Is that understood, young lady?”
Another bargaining tool
, Victoria thought. Seeing that Eva couldn't handle her daughter, Victoria knew she had to take control. “I'm not tryin' to go to jail over indecent exposure and underage drinking. This is how the party's gonna roll,” she told Celeste, “we'll hire co-ed servers, dress them in cargo shorts and T-shirts, and they'll serve nonalcoholic tropical drinks on surf board–shaped trays,” she concluded with authority.
Celeste thought about the proposition for a moment. “Okay, I can live with that.”
You better,
Victoria thought to herself.
Eva wrote Victoria a check and thanked her a hundred times before saying goodbye.

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