Who's That Lady? (19 page)

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Authors: Andrea Jackson

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Slowly he stretched out his hand toward her. “I meant what I said. I won’t make love to you. Not now. But I can help you to relax.”

Brushing aside the foam, he trailed his fingertips across her collarbone.

Crystal gasped and her hips bucked, making the water slosh against the sides of the tub.

His eyes blazed with satisfaction. “You are sensitive, aren’t you? Come on, sweetie, let me help you relax.”

She was incapable of speech as his hands slowly sought out her shoulders and began a gentle, firm massage.

She gave in to the pleasure, relaxing back into his hands.

He moved his wet hands up her shoulder to her neck, massaging the tight tendons.

Crystal purred encouragement.

“You like this?”

“Oh yes.”

“Then just relax and let me pleasure you. And no matter what,” he added, his fingers trailing down the side of her neck, “you can’t make any noise.”

From the look in his eyes, she knew he was going to make it very difficult for her to follow those instructions.

He kneaded the spot between her shoulders at the base of her neck. The combination of steamy water and rubbing hands had her pleasantly drunk.

“Lay on your stomach,” he instructed.

She turned over, her stomach on the slick porcelain, her body curved in a bow to accommodate the slope of the tub. Her face rested on the edge. His hands slid up and all the way down to her hips. She let out a groan of pure pleasure.

“Oh my God, how do you do that?”

“I’m a kinesiologist, remember? I’ve studied the body. I know just where to touch you to make you shiver, make you flinch. Just how much pressure to loosen muscles and exactly how much further to push it, so that you flutter on the verge of pain. I know how torment can bring its own kind of pleasure, titillation without hurting. I can make you melt in my hands, baby. I can turn you inside out. Just by touching you.”

“Yes,” she moaned.

“I like to touch you, Crystal. You respond to me like nobody else. The slightest brush of my hands will make you writhe, won’t it?”

She was about to spring from the water and pull him in with her. Just then a door slammed somewhere nearby, startling them both and freezing them.

Her heart hammered.

“Mom?” called Shonté’s voice in the hallway.

Giving her a pat on the bottom, Key slipped away, leaving her alone and horny to stagger from the tub. She grabbed the glass of orange juice and gulped it down in one swallow.

By the time she dressed and put on makeup, she felt composed enough to join the family downstairs. Joe returned with Aunt Ida, friends of the family were picked up at the airport, and local guests began to arrive.

Dinner was extended and accented by conversation and laughter. Afterwards, some of them plopped in the family room to watch the game on TV while the rest talked and gossiped.

They awakened late the next morning, trickling into the kitchen one by one. There were coffee, hot cinnamon rolls and lots of leftovers.

No Jacuzzi meeting this morning. The overnight guests had ousted Key to the pullout couch in the family room while Shonté and Crystal made room for Aunt Ida in their room. Ninety-five-year-old Aunt Ida had to sleep hooked up to a noisy respirator and she went to the bathroom three or four times a night. Getting in and out of bed each time involved much grunting, groaning and slow, noisy shuffling to get to her walker. Crystal tried to help her the first time, but the old lady was startled and screamed, setting off Masai’s barking from his bed in the hallway. Vonetta came in to calm the confused old lady. Crystal went back to her air mattress on the floor. The next time the old lady started to get up, she put a pillow over her head and gritted her teeth.

Shonté was the last to arrive downstairs, looking tousled and adorable.

“Mom, I can’t eat a thing.”

Her mother fussed over her, offering juice, coffee or tea.

“When are we leaving?” Shonté asked Key.

“Either tomorrow or Sunday,” he murmured.

“Have you got something to do?” asked Joe. “I haven’t even had a chance to talk to you, baby girl!”

She fidgeted a little. “Oh, just the usual. Work and a little acting.”

“She just finished a wonderful performance,” Crystal broke in. “You should have been there! The audience loved her.”

Abruptly, she remembered that the stage had not been the only drama last weekend. She flinched slightly and tried not to look at Shonté. She felt the other girl tense up also.

“It was just a little local thing,” Shonté said, her voice a deprecating drawl. “Nobody will even remember it by this time next year.”

“Are you proud of yourself, baby?” Vonetta asked quietly, her gaze leveled on Shonté.

“I guess.” She shrugged.

“That’s all that matters then, isn’t it?”

Shonté wrinkled her nose. “Is it, Momma? Shouldn’t I be making a difference in someone’s life?”

“Is that what would make you proud?”

Her chin lifted. “I guess it would,” she said as if the thought was new to her.

The other overnight guests came into the room and helped themselves to breakfast.

Vonetta stood up. “What’s everyone doing today?” she asked.

Key said, “I’m going with Pop to take Aunt Ida back to the nursing home.”

“Elder care,” Joe growled. Sending his aunt to the home had been a difficult decision.

“Why don’t the rest of us go shopping, then?” Shonté suggested.

CHAPTER 18

Key helped his father pack Aunt Ida and her equipment into his father’s Envoy wagon and then rode with them on the hour long drive to her residential facility.

They were both quiet for the first part of the return drive. Key knew that his father experienced some guilt about leaving Aunt Ida in the home. Watching his father walk the short distance between the entryway and the car gave Key a pang. The sunlight turned Joe Emerson’s grizzled hair to silver, and Key noticed the stoop of his shoulders and the stiff movements of his steps as he heaved himself up into the passenger side of the wagon. Key was pierced by the knowledge that his parents were aging and wouldn’t be around forever. The thought gave him a shock of panic. In all his life, they had been the one constant he could always count on.

“Feeling okay, Pop?” he asked after a long silent interval.

Joe seemed to rouse from his private reverie. “Oh, yeah, great as can be expected for a man my age.”

“Age is no excuse for you not to take care of yourself,” Key protested. “You know, there are exercise programs you and Mom should get into that will lower your stress and strengthen your bones. I’ve been doing some reading about Tai Chi—”

Joe patted his arm with an indulgent smile. “We’re doing fine, Son,” he said.

They were both quiet for a moment.

“How about you? Has that knee been bothering you lately?”

“Not much. Every now and then I forget and do something crazy. But I work out and keep the muscles toned. That’s my field, you know.”

“I know. I couldn’t be more proud of you, son.”

“Thanks, Pop. But I’m basically just a physical therapist with a degree.”

“Oh, no sir!” Joe shook his head vehemently. “You have a gift, son. You have a natural athletic ability and you’ve studied how the body works. You also know how to work with people, bring out the best in them, physically and spiritually. I’ve watched the way you work with those kids on your teams and the volunteer work you used to do in hospitals. You’re fulfilling your potential.”

Key grinned self-consciously. Joe easily gave compliments like that, but even after all these years, Key felt warm gratitude for the words. He knew how lucky he was to have been taken in by a couple like Joe and Vonetta Emerson. He hated to think what his life would have been like if he had stayed on the streets or gotten caught in the labyrinth of social service institutions. Once more he renewed his inner vow to make them proud of him.

“There’s only one thing more that would make my life complete,” Joe went on. “Vonetta and I are just waiting for you or Shonté to bless us with some grandkids, and then we’ll be delirious. Not that I’m pressing or anything,” he added with a self-mocking lilt in his voice.

Key chuckled. His father had been joking about this for the last couple of years. “I don’t think I’m ready for kids.”

“The way you are with those kids on your team, there’s no doubt in my mind.”

“That’s different. They’re teenagers and I’m not totally responsible for them.”

“Don’t you want children? Eventually, of course.”

Key squirmed in his seat, surprised by this new persistence. “I’m in no hurry, Pop. I’m satisfied with my life
.” I just want to make love to Crystal until my bones melt.

“Come on, we all want to be loved. Why not let a woman love you? Isn’t it time you start thinking about the next stage of your life?”

“Maybe. I just don’t know if I’m ready though.”

His father coughed low in his throat. “Is anybody ever ready? Love is never easy, but it’s wonderful just the same.”

Another long stretch of silence went by. Then Joe asked quietly, “Are you afraid?”

Key started and glanced at his father. “Why would you say that?”

“You had a hard start in life, Son. When you came to us, it took you a long time to accept our love, to trust us. I would hate to think you’d miss out on a full life because of some old baggage.”

Key sighed. He knew that he did have a tendency to hold back some emotional reserves. But this conversation was too heavy for him right now, when all he had on his mind was Crystal.

His parents would be ecstatic to have her as a daughter-in-law, he believed. But neither of them was ready for marriage.
She wouldn’t even move in with me.
The thought was still a sore spot.

No, he would enjoy every day he had with her now, just the way things were, because he wasn’t sure he was going to get forever. She would eventually want something more.

Key looked out the windshield at the road sweeping ahead of them, letting his father’s words sink in.

“I’ll think about it, Pop. Okay?”

* * *

On Saturday, Shonté took off again in Key’s car in search of the few sales she had missed. The guests went with Key and Joe on a sightseeing trip.

Crystal helped clean up a little around the house. Worn out from the weekend, she went up to her room after lunch for a power nap. When she got up, the house was quiet. She padded around, but everyone seemed to be gone until she walked out on the enclosed porch outside the kitchen. Vonetta used it as her art studio.

“There you are. I thought I’d been forgotten.”

Vonetta smiled at her. “Joe, Key, Tracy and Alex are still out, and Shonté is still shopping.”

Vonetta gestured to a futon where a thick quilt was draped. Crystal curled up on the cushions, snuggling down in the quilt. Masai had been sleeping near the space heater, but jumped up to lie against her. The sunny porch overlooked the river flowing behind the house. The coolness in the air had Vonetta wearing a bulky sweater. The sun was sinking across the river, casting a magical crimson glow.

“I love this house,” Crystal said.

She watched Vonetta brush strokes of color on a large canvas.

“I know you do, honey. Don’t you forget you’ll always be welcome wherever we have a home.”

“I love being part of your family, with you and Mr. Joe and Key and Shonté. I want it to always be that way.”

“Is that why you guys were arguing when you said you weren’t coming?”

Crystal was taken aback by her observation. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Honey, the harder you hold on to things the more slippery they become.”

“Shonté tells me I’m too rigid. I thought I had a handle on life, but it seems to be broken lately.”

Vonetta’s expression darkened. “Shonté. She’s unhappy about something.”

“I—” Crystal began uncertainly.

Vonetta waved her paintbrush in the air. “No, no, I’m not asking you to tell me anything. But I know what I see. She’s so restless, always has been. But lately, there’s something else.”

She dabbed at her paint mixture for a moment. “We’re glad you live with her. Just make sure she remembers that we love her and nothing will change that, okay?”

Under Vonetta’s intense gaze, Crystal nodded silently. Vonetta turned back to the canvas. She mixed paints on her tray to create a vivid blue. Crystal stared at the shade. A little white, some blue, a dab of brown, all blending into something new and unique.

Vonetta painted for a short while and then glanced back with a smile. “You, on the other hand, look radiant, dear. Not just your hair. There’s a whole new bounce in your step. What’s new in your life?”

Crystal responded with a weak smile, thinking about Key with some guilt. “Nothing, really.”

“Are you dating any nice men?”

Crystal pulled the quilt up to her chin. “It’s so hard finding someone who’s right for you, isn’t it?”

“You will, my precious. One day you’ll have your own family and it will be just as happy as this one has been. Yours will be the house where all your kids’ friends hang out.”

“I’m not sure I want that. I’ve planned my whole life around my career. I want to go back to school for my master’s and then do something else.”

“Good grief,” Vonetta said. “You sound like you can’t be an intelligent woman and have a happy home life. I thought that thinking went out with the ‘70s. When I was in high school, feminism meant bra burning and man-hating. My parents thought it was all about having sex at will and women joining the workforce instead of being wives.”

“No, I don’t think that at all,” Crystal protested. “I appreciate that women don’t have to forgo family life for a career. I hope to have a partnership when—if I get married.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll find just the right person for you.”

Crystal adjusted the folds of the blanket. Did she want to get married? She loved being with Key, but they were very different. She definitely wasn’t the type he would choose for a wife. She was still his buddy in many ways.

“How did you know that Mr. Emerson was the one?” she asked, curious, and also hoping to change the subject.

“Didn’t I ever tell you this story?” Vonetta tilted her head to look at the canvas. “I think that’s enough for today. Get the turpentine out for me, would you?”

Crystal went to the supply cabinet and brought it to Vonetta as she began to put her supplies away in a box.

“I had just gone through a painful divorce. When I learned that I wasn’t able to have children, my husband totally rejected me. He was pretty nasty about it.”

Crystal had known there was a previous marriage, but not the details of it. She winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Oh no, honey.” Vonetta sat down beside her on the futon and poured a cup of coffee from the thermos on the table. She gazed thoughtfully out towards the river. “I was thirty years old, divorced and barren. I didn’t even feel like a woman anymore. I think I just went through the motions of my life for the next year. I was a teacher—I had always loved kids, but now they were just a painful reminder.”

She sipped from the steaming cup.

“That spring I got the flu. I wasn’t taking care of myself, and the stress on top of it did me in. Well, it turns out I was walking around with pneumonia until I just passed out in the parking lot one day. Joe was another teacher at the same school. He found me.”

Her mouth curved in a reminiscent smile. “He got me to a doctor, took me home, made me take my medicine. He came by my house every day to cook for me, to check on me. And we talked.”

The smile widened and lit up her whole face. Abruptly she seemed to remember Crystal. “Well, let’s just say that I got better and one thing led to another. He made me believe in myself as a woman again. We were together, just the two of us, for a long time before we decided to adopt.”

“That must have been a big adjustment for both of you.”

“Lord, yes! We were looking for an infant. We had a lawyer who put us in contact with different places and we were on the waiting list for an infant. And then we met Keyandré.”

Her heartbeat sped up. “Oh, yeah? He wasn’t an infant, right? What was he like as a child?”

“We adopted him when he was almost four. We couldn’t leave him behind. He just went straight to the heart. That little face…He looked like the loneliest boy in the world. We were going through the proceedings when we got word that there was an infant available. So we just took them both!” She chuckled.

She turned pensive once more. “Look at him now. He’s Mr. Smooth, laid back and full of charm. Sometimes I look at him and I just praise God. You’d never guess how he was when we first got him.

“Lord only knows what he went through in those first years of life, because he’s totally blocked it out. When he came to us, he wasn’t potty trained, he didn’t talk and he flinched when anybody made a sudden move around him. He used to wake up in the night crying and shaking. I would sit and hold him on my lap until my legs went numb.

“In the daytime, when you tried to hug him, he’d just stiffen up like a rigid little board. He didn’t know how to react. He’d slip away as soon as possible. He didn’t really resist, but he was as stiff as a wooden doll. I don’t know what was done to him, but I hope that whoever abused him is suffering ten times what he went through.” Her voice was as grim as her face. She looked as if she could tear the abuser apart with her bare hands. Then she relaxed with an effort, going back to normal.

“It was almost a year before he would allow himself to hug me back. It was two years before he started to really open up and trust us. Shonté first got through his defenses. He was a close and attentive big brother. Once she started to talk and walk, she adored her brother Key. She followed him everywhere. She was the first one to give him that nickname. I liked his full name,
Keyandré
. It means ‘wise man.’ He and Shonté were inseparable; she was the princess and he was always right by her side. He was quiet, but in his own way he could make people feel at ease; he could charm.”

The sliding glass door to the house slid open and Shonté stepped through. She rubbed her arms briskly. “Brrr! It’s freezing out here. What are you guys doing?”

“Girl talk,” said Crystal. “Come on in,” she invited, lifting the blanket.

Vonetta shifted. “It is cold out here, isn’t it? Why don’t we go inside?”

“Oh. I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” Shonté said in a sullen voice. “I’ll leave you alone.”

Vonetta stared at her. “Of course you’re not interrupting. Come on out.”

“Never mind!” Shont
é snapped and flounced back into the house.

Vonetta’s mouth tightened.

“I’m sorry,” Crystal said. The warmth she had been feeling vanished, as if a dome of frost had dropped over her head.

“It’s not you who should be apologizing,” gritted Vonetta. She marched into the kitchen and ripped off her fleece jacket.

Crystal followed more slowly.

“Shonté,” Vonetta called out in a steely voice. “I want to talk to you.”

Shonté stopped and eyed her mother with resentment. “What?”

“You’ve been sulking around here all weekend. Crystal won’t tell me, but I know something has happened between the two of you. I want to know what’s bothering you.”

Crystal hovered in the background, her stomach twisting into knots of dread.

Shonté glared at her and said in a hard voice, “You want to know what’s wrong? Do you really?”

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