When Love Comes Around (Love Conquers All) (2 page)

Between the lying, cheating, and running up every charge card she had to the limit, destroying her credit and self-esteem, Starr had almost lost her mind. By the time she was twenty-three years old, she was up to her neck drowning in debt and self-doubt. Taking her sister Karen’s advice, she gave up her apartment and moved in with her and her family until she could get her finances straighten out. Most importantly, Karen had wanted to get her sister out of Marcus’ clutches.

Unbeknownst to her, Marcus had found the one credit card he hadn’t maxed out, that she had stashed away for emergencies, while helping her move her things into her sister’s home. Three months later, she received a call while at work from the collections department wanting to know when she was going to make a payment on her delinquent bill. Stunned, Starr argued with the representative insisting she hadn’t made any purchases. As soon as she got home to her sister’s that evening, she went tearing through the shoebox in the back of her closet looking for the credit card she thought was well hidden. Her heart dropped when she found the empty birthday card her mom had given her on her tenth birthday. From the moment she spoke with the woman in the collections department, she knew somehow Marcus had gotten a hold of her credit card, but didn’t want to believe it. How could he do such a terrible thing after she had forgiven him time and time again for mistreating her?

Not only had he stolen from her, he had the audacity to have charged hundreds of dollars in lingerie from Victoria’s Secret. None of which was housed in her lingerie drawer. This infraction was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. From that day on Starr had cleansed Marcus completely from her life. No matter how much he begged and pleaded to be forgiven and promised never to do anything like that again, Starr stood her ground. Marcus was history.

Then there was Stephen the miser. Starr had gone from one extreme to another. No longer was she with a man who carelessly spent money.
Her money
. Now she had hooked up with one so stingy, if he could, he’d squeeze change from a penny.

Initially, his cheap ways hadn’t mattered. It hadn’t bothered her he hardly took her out. And when he did take her out, somehow, she’d end up paying for a portion of the date. Nor had it annoyed her when Stephen insisted on celebrating Kwanza instead of Christmas, so they could make gifts instead of buying them.

None of this mattered, because unlike Marcus, Stephen was always preaching about saving money for the future and not acquiring unnecessary debt. Starr could appreciate his logic since she had been working hard to pay down her debt when she met him. Between working several overtime shifts and making payment arrangements with her creditors, Starr had significantly paid down the bills Marcus had charged up in her name.

In all honesty, Stephen’s miserly ways were a benefit. He was forever sharing some little tidbit on how she could save money. Like encouraging her to yearly increase her 403B plan and putting away at least fifteen percent of her paycheck each time she got paid. Taking heed to his advice, her checking and savings accounts slowly over time accumulated into the thousands.

So no, it didn’t bother her he was the stingiest man alive. Well, that wasn’t completely true. She did, for once, want to go out on a date and have him splurge for the entire evening. Just once. But then she would think to herself,
at least he’s not begging me for money or trying to burn through my credit cards.

However, everything changed when he had the gall to ask her to split the cost of a box of condoms. “What? You’re joking, right?” she asked him incredulously, not believing he could fix his mouth to say such a thing. For crying out loud, the man was employed as a software designer for a major technology company, making some serious cash...Okay. This was insane.
Cheap bastard.

Shaking his head, not realizing how ridiculous he was being, he dug his heels in. “I think it’s only right you help out with the cost of birth control,” Stephen mumbled as he lifted his fork to his mouth taking a healthy bite of macaroni and cheese.

Starr stared at him as if
she
had lost
her
mind.
This fool must think I’m crazy. I’m about to show him just how crazy I am.
Storming over to her front door, she flung it open, yelling at the top of her lungs like a lunatic. “Get your stingy, greedy, black behind out of my house!”

Suddenly, Stephen realized he made the terrible mistake of asking her for money as he sat at her table eating the scrumptious dinner she’d prepared. Since dating Starr, he hadn’t had to buy groceries as often. At least three times a week he ended up on her sofa watching cable and eating dinner. He tried to back pedal with, “Umm…it’s okay…you don’t have to give me any money this time.”

What? This time! Oh this fool is trippin’!
Starr reached for the baseball bat she kept near the front door for protection. “I said get your stingy, greedy, black behind out of my house!”

Raising the baseball bat like she was about to knock him into left field, Stephen jumped up from the table, stammering as he hurried to the front door. “Look, I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you mad. I’ll call you tomorrow. Okay?”

“Don’t bother!” Slamming the door, she yelled to no one in particular, “Another two years of my life wasted!”

After a few months of being alone, Starr jumped back into the dating scene when she met Leon at a coffee house on Second and South Streets. He was the prettiest man she had ever seen in all her twenty-seven years. Six feet tall, bronze skin, jet-black wavy hair and eyelashes so long any woman would be jealous. She, along with the other women in the coffee house, was literally drooling when he came swaggering through the door. Starr was all too giddy when he strolled over to her table pulling out a chair, smiling at her. “Do you mind if I sit here, pretty lady?”

Starr swooned in her chair from the deep, husky baritone words floating from his thick, kissable lips. “Not at all,” she told him, grinning from ear to ear looking like a simpleton.

The relationship with Leon, if you could call it that, was the shortest of them all. Three weeks to be exact. It all came to a screeching halt on their third date. Walking side by side, the couple was engrossed in conversation when the cutest brotha yelled out the window of a sparkling white Acura. “Hey baby, let me holla at you.”

Flattered, feeling extremely sexy, Starr swung her head around in the direction of the white Acura. Her jaw length bob covering one eye, giving her that ‘come hither look,’ she nearly hit the concrete face first. Fine brotha man was
not
trying to holla at her! This became clearly evident as Leon’s rough boy swagger became a switch, as he sashayed his feminine self over to the vehicle. Starr could not believe her eyes as she witnessed Leon lean into the driver’s side window and began stroking the side of dude’s face like they were lovers.

Dumbfounded, her eyes became round as saucers as Leon had the nerve to sashay back over to her. Her jaw dropped to the ground when he picked back up his rough boy baritone. “I need to make this run with my man. I’ll see you later.”

How does he do that?
Starr wondered in awe as he smoothly transitioned from feminine to masculine.

Hunching her shoulders, feeling like she was in the twilight zone, she said, “Okay.” What more could she say? Leon was on the down low…Waaaay down low. There wasn’t a woman in Philly who could make that crooked line straight. Now, she understood why he ended both of their previous dates with a chase kiss on the cheek. Silly her, she thought he was just being gentlemanly. Needless to say, she never heard from Leon. Good riddance.

If anything, she was thankful she had taken a sworn vow of celibacy after dealing with Marcus and Stephen. After her break up with Stephen, she’d promised God the next man she invited into her bed, would be her husband. That was five years ago. And up until now, she had been happy with her choice. Being celibate meant no serious dating. Too much temptation was involved. No dating meant no meeting a future husband. No prospects for a future husband, meant no babies.

A wave of sadness shook Starr’s very being. Here she was, thirty-two years old, with no man. No babies. No life.

Why couldn’t she have the same kind of life as her sister Karen and her friend Summer? She hated to admit it, but she was a wee bit jealous. Not hating, just a smidge jealous of them. Both her sister and friend were blessed to have decent men love them, marry them, and give them beautiful babies. What had she done so wrong that she hadn’t been blessed like them?

Continuing her walk down the busy street, she let out a big sigh. Things weren’t as severe as her run away mind was telling her. Dr. Neil assured her at this point infertility wasn’t necessarily an immediate danger. However, he did stress she was thirty-two years old, had never been pregnant, and if she did plan on having children, she needed to seriously think about doing so preferably in the very near future. “After you turn thirty-five, you’ll be in the ‘high risk’ pregnancy category which may bring on an entirely different set of potential complications. And keep in mind, the endometriosis may significantly progress by then.”

The doctor briefly discussed treatment options. For now, the only option was taking non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs, such as Motrin or Advil for the cramping. If the bleeding became progressively worse, he told her hormone therapy could be prescribed to control it.

As far as becoming pregnant in the very near future, that was another issue. Since there were no prospects of a husband in sight, the likelihood of motherhood was dismal. So when Dr. Neil suggested artificial insemination, the only thing Starr could do was seriously take the suggestion into consideration. What other choice did she have?

Somehow, Starr mindlessly wandered her way four blocks down and one block over to Macy’s on Market Street. She was supposed to meet her sister for lunch at the Chestnut Hill Grill. After leaving her appointment, she called Karen to reschedule their monthly lunch date. She felt terrible about canceling, but there was too much on her brain and she didn’t want to put her problem on her sister. Karen had enough on her own plate to handle, which began four years ago when she became a young widow with two small children.

I won’t be good company anyway,
she’d told herself. What she needed was some time alone to think. She had a lot to consider and no offense to Karen, but right now, she didn’t feel like being around anyone.

For years, she believed she had time to settle down, get married and start a family. She was young and enjoying her freedom. And whenever the maternal crave would gnaw at her, she would get her fix by spending time with Karen’s and Summer’s children. But now, with ever step she took, she suddenly felt as though she was in a race against time. Was she imagining things or could she hear a clock ticking?
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.
With sagging shoulders she wondered,
who’s going to win? Me or father time?

Not only did she have that to worry about, but what would her family and friends think of her getting pregnant with the aid of artificial insemination? And if she did, what would she tell her child when he or she asked, “Who’s my daddy? Where’s my daddy?” Starr felt a sharp pain pierce her heart. How many times had she and Karen asked their mother, “Where’s daddy?” Would she be able to put a child through the pain of not knowing who, let alone where his or her father was?

“Decisions, decisions, what is a girl to do?” She mumbled under her breath as she steered her way to the shoe department. Buying pretty shoes always made her feel better.

Holding up a different shoe in each hand, her wrists rotated, giving her a view of both at different angles. “Which one of you do I want?”

“If you ask me, I like the black stiletto,” rumbled a deep, sexy familiar voice.

Starr spun around; embarrassed she had been caught talking to herself like a madwoman. Momentarily, irritation pricked at her that some man had invaded her afternoon of solitude. That was until she gazed up into the handsomest face she’d ever seen.

Kevin Dawson. Sexy as sin, Kevin Dawson.
Starr had finally met Kevin at NJ’s christening four years ago. He along with her and Ava were godparents to both NJ and Autumn.

That particular Sunday morning, Starr had to concentrate double time on what the pastor was saying during the sermon. Kevin was absolutely gorgeous in a chocolate Hugo Boss suit. He had that whole Boris Kodjoe thing going on from the caramel coloring, to his six feet-four, well chiseled hard body. As the minister was preaching, Starr kept imagining her fingertips seductively gliding over his bald, shiny head. Yes, Kevin definitely was a hottie.

If that weren’t bad enough, the entire service she had to squeeze her thighs tight together and pray the throbbing between her legs would go away. She thought for sure God would strike her down, right there in the pew. Her death certificate would read:
Cause of Death: Due to lusting in a house of worship.