Your Love Is King (7 page)

I looked up at his face and smiled. He did have the nicest blue eyes. “Why?”

“Why what?” he asked, looking confused again.

“Why are you so interested in having dinner with me?”

“Oh, well, when I saw you at the club, I thought,
Dang, now that’s a
beautiful woman
. Do you know how hard it was for me to concentrate on playing my horn with you sitting there looking like you were looking? I just wanna spend a little time in the presence of your beauty and get to know you. Plus, you’re mean, and I like that in a woman.”

Despite myself, I felt my smile widening.  “Okay, I’ll think about it. What’s your phone number?”

I programmed Chris’s number into my phone and then knocked on the door. I guess I was too tired to remember that I had the key in my purse. Chris and I were both shocked when Quinton Farver opened the door, wearing only a pair of boxers.

“Uh,” was all I managed to say.

Chris, however, was more verbal. “Quint? What you doing here?”

“Aw, just kickin’ it with my girl, Carla. You must be Marli. I was just getting ready to leave,” he said.

I frowned a little. “Uh, yeah. Nice to meet you?”

He moved to the side and, as I squeezed past him, I turned and said, “Thanks again, Chris.”

“No problem, Ms. Marli. I’ll be waiting for your call.”

I nodded and continued through the apartment to my room. I closed the door, stripped out of my work clothes, and collapsed into the bed. I decided to confront Carla about her little fake illness whenever I woke up.

~*~

I rolled over in bed and silenced the alarm on my cell phone. 3:00 P.M. already? It was time for me to drag myself out of bed, find something to eat, and get ready to head back to the hospital for another shift. I’d been asleep ever since I arrived home and had yet to confront Carla about her undercover booty call. Oh, and I couldn’t forget the fact that she left me high and dry without a ride home that morning. It wasn’t like Carla to be irresponsible, and her behavior really concerned me.

After a hot shower, I wrapped my robe around my body and headed to the kitchen, hoping that Carla was awake so that I could talk to her. I walked into the kitchen and was surprised to find her at the stove whipping up something that smelled so good, I could’ve sworn I’d stepped into a restaurant.

“Hey, sleepy head,” she greeted me cheerfully with a bright smile. I guess her time with Quinton had energized her.

“Hey,” I said brusquely as I took a seat at the table. Whatever she was cooking was not going to make up for the fact that she’d left me in the lurch for a piece of tail.

Carla sighed and took a seat across from me. “Look, Marli… I’m sorry about this morning. The time just got away from me.”

“Mm-hmm. I imagine it did, Carla.”

“I’m trying to apologize. You gonna cut me some slack here?”

With a furrowed brow, I said, “Let’s see here. You lied about being sick so that you could play bedroom gymnastics with some guy you barely know, and then you just left me sitting outside the ER like some orphan. I had to catch a ride with that Justin Timberfake from the club. He could’ve been a serial killer or something! What kind of best friend are you?!”

Carla shook her head. “Naw, that white dude is way too fine to be a serial killer. A man can’t be that fine and be a psycho at the same time. It’s against the laws of nature.”

I rolled my eyes. “What is wrong with you? When did you start lying? Why would you leave me hanging like that?”

Carla dropped her head. “Look, I didn’t tell you about Quinton because I knew you’d judge me.”

“Judge you? Carla, you’re still married! I’m not judging you. I’m just concerned.”

“Yeah, well I don’t feel married anymore.”

“Yeah, but you
are
married, and what about your kids?”

“I talk to my boys every day. They’re fine. Bryan’s always been a good father. They’re in good hands.”

“I know that, but you need to get yourself together. You can’t just be sleeping with random guys, Carla. That’s dangerous.”

Carla shook her head. “I know what I’m doing, Marli. Just like you knew what you were doing with Darius.”

My eyes widened. “Wow, that was a low blow, Carla.”

She leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, you took it there. Anyway, who are you to judge me? I remember all those guys you hooked up with after your divorce.”

Dang, that stung.
“You’re right, Carla. I did hook up with a bunch of guys, but I never pretended that what I was doing was right. I was hurt and mixed up in the head. And besides, the operative word is
divorced
. I was not married when I did that stuff.”

Without blinking an eye, she said, “I’m divorced in my heart.”

I shook my head. “Okay, I see that this conversation is going nowhere. I’m done talking about this, Carla. But you better be careful. You make a practice of calling in, and you’re gonna lose this gig.”

“
Look
, it was the only time Quinton had free to spend with me. And believe me, he was
more
than worth it!”

I looked up to heaven. “Lord, help her…”

She leaned forward. “No, really. He was
grrreat
! You should try him. I don’t mind, really.”

Was she for real? “No thanks, I’ll pass.”

She shrugged. “Your loss. Anyway, I’m sorry about not picking you up. Next time you can just take my truck.”

“Next time? Really, Carla?
Whatever
.” I stood to leave the kitchen.

“Wait!” she called after me. “Don’t you want something to eat? I’m fixing chicken cacciatore.”

Chicken cacciatore was my favorite, and she knew it, but I wasn’t about to break bread with her. “No. I think I just lost my appetite,” I said. “Oh, and I’m going to church with Carolyn and Ronda on Sunday. You
might
wanna join us.”

Nine

“Skin”

I woke up on Sunday morning with a smile.  I hadn’t been to church since before we left Arkansas, and Lord knows with all I’d witnessed in the ER, I needed some spiritual food. I stretched and yawned and headed to my closet where I chose a black pencil skirt, gold blouse, and gold pumps. I showered, slipped on my robe, and headed to the kitchen for a quick breakfast. I was surprised to see Carla already at the table.

“Good morning,” she said. “You’re up early for an off day.”

I opened the refrigerator door and peered inside. “Yeah, I’m going to church, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. You did say something about that the other day.”

I fixed myself a bagel with cream cheese, a few grapes and strawberries, and took a seat at the table across from Carla.

“Um, so, does the offer still stand?” she asked.

“What offer?”

“To go to church with you guys.”

I looked up at her. “Of course it does. Carolyn’s picking me up around 10:30.”

Carla smiled. “Okay, let me go and get ready. Um, which church is it?”

I shrugged. “I honestly can’t remember the name. Carolyn was invited by a girl who works on the oncology unit. I think her father’s the pastor or something. Anyway, she and Ronda went a couple of weeks ago and she said the service was awesome.”

“Well, I hope so. I could use some awesome worship right about now.”

I nodded and watched as she headed out of the kitchen.
We could all use that
, I thought.

~*~

The four of us filed into the Spirit and Truth Worship Center just minutes before service began. It was a huge church and the sanctuary was full of people. We sat near the back, and I took the few moments to glance through the church bulletin. On the cover was a picture of a handsome, older African American couple—the pastor and his wife.

As music began to fill the sanctuary, many members of the congregation sprang to their feet and clapped their hands. I ended up having to stand, myself, just to get a good view of the choir. I made a mental note to be sure and get there early next time so I could get a good seat.

I closed my eyes and swayed and clapped to the rhythm of the music. It felt
so good
to be in church, and that choir could definitely sing! As the lead singer began singing the first verse of Hezekiah Walker’s “I’ll Make It,” I opened my eyes to get a glimpse of him. I nearly fell over when I saw the man with the smooth voice clutching the microphone, singing his heart out.

No, it can’t be him
, I thought.
Maybe I’m just too far back to be sure, but that sure
does look like—

Carla nudged me and whispered, “Hey, isn’t that the white guy from that jazz band up there singing? You know, your Justin Timberfake?”

“It looks like him, but it
can’t
be,” I replied without taking my eyes off of him.

But truthfully, he had the same mannerisms as Chris, and by the end of the song, I was just about certain that it
was
him. What was he doing in a black church singing like a black man and looking really nice at the same time? He was dressed in a black suit and pink shirt with a black tie, and he sure wore it well.

The choir finished the song and I took my seat and watched as Chris King walked over to the music pit. I wondered just what he was really all about. I had to admit to myself that there was definitely something intriguing about him and, well, that I was kind of attracted to him. He was tall and handsome and just plain
fine
, but I still couldn’t see myself dating him. It just seemed too weird.

The service flowed smoothly, but it was a contrast to the services I was accustomed to. This was a non-denominational church, and several elements of Baptist worship were missing. It was definitely a different experience for me, but I liked it. The sermon was a powerful mixture of preaching and teaching, and the pastor was full of fire!

After the service ended, I quickly made my way to the front to speak to Chris and found myself at the rear of a crowd of his admirers. Evidently, several of the women at the church had set their sights on Mr. Chris King, and I can honestly say that I understood why. He seemed like quite a catch.

I stood there and waited for a few moments before deciding to leave. I hated to keep my friends waiting. I had just made it back to where Carolyn, Ronda, and Carla were waiting for me when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Startled, I spun around to see that it was Chris.

“Ms. Marli! I thought that was you,” he said with a bright smile.

I couldn’t help but to smile back. “Yeah, I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed service, but you were occupied back there. You have a great voice.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate that. That song is a little above my octave range, though.”

I shook my head. “No, you were perfect.”

“Well, thanks again.”

We stood there in awkward silence for a moment and since I didn’t have the good sense to do it, my friends introduced themselves to him.

Chris smiled and shook their hands. “I’m Chris King. Nice to meet you all.” He turned to me and asked, “Um, have you thought anymore about that date?”

I adjusted my purse on my shoulder. “Um, well…”

“Well, if you’re game, you can take me up on that offer right now,” he continued.

I glanced at Carla and the other ladies. “Well, Chris, I kinda made plans already.”

“No, no. You can eat dinner with us
anytime
,” Carla said with a sly smile.

“Yes, you two go
right ahead
,” Ronda interjected.

“Um, uh…” I stammered. Were they trying to set me up?

“Well, Ms. Marli. What do you say?”

“Um… okay, I guess,” I finally answered with a shrug. What else was I supposed to say?

I said my goodbyes to my companions and followed Chris out to his vehicle.

“Where are we gonna eat?” I asked as he drove through a neighborhood of well-kept homes with neat lawns.

He glanced at me and smiled. “The best place in town.”

“Oh, okay. What do they serve?”

“Soul food.”

I laughed. “Soul food?”

“Yeah, soul food. You don’t like soul food?”

I raised my eyebrows and looked over at him. “So because I’m black I gotta like soul food?”

He flashed me a serious look. “Why you gotta go there? Is everything about race with you? I just thought you’d like the food, that’s all.”

I dropped my eyes, feeling a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It was a joke, really.”

“Well, would you rather we ate something else?” he asked, still sounding serious.

I shook my head and quietly said, “No, it’s okay.”

“You sure? I don’t want you thinking that I’m trying to stereotype you or racially profile you or something.”

I sighed. “I said it’s fine, and I really am sorry.”

He smiled. “Okay, we’re here then.”

He pulled the car onto the driveway in front of a neat, two-story house only a few blocks from the church.

“This is a restaurant?” I asked as he opened the car door for me.

“Nope, it’s my parents’ house.”

My eyes widened as I looked up at his face. “Your
parents’
house?! You want me to meet your
parents
? Chris, you don’t even
know
me.” This might sound bad, but the thought of sitting at a table full of white people eating dinner really did not appeal to me.

“I’m
tryna
get to know you… if you’ll let me. By the way, what’s your last name?”

“See, this is crazy. You don’t even know my last name!” I whispered as we approached the front door.

He raised his eyebrows. “That’s why I’m asking. What is it?”

I shook my head. “Meadows. It’s Marli Meadows.”

“Okay,
dang
. Was that so hard, woman?” he said as if I was being absurd.

I rolled my eyes. “How do you know they’ll even want to meet me?”

“Because I know my own parents. Stop being so uptight.”

I had just about decided at that point to turn around and leave. I could’ve called Carla for a ride or even called for a cab. Nevertheless, I stayed. Maybe I wanted to see his parents’ reaction to me. But then again, if he’d really never dated inside his race, there might not have been any reaction at all. For whatever reason, I didn’t leave Chris’s side, and I didn’t resist when he grabbed my hand and held onto it.

Chris rang the doorbell and we stood there for what seemed like hours before a familiar-looking black woman finally answered the door.
Wow, they have a maid
, I thought.
No wonder he can afford that Mercedes.

A huge smile spread across her face as she reached up and hugged Chris. “Chris! I didn’t know you were coming for dinner. Thought you’d be headed back out of town with the band.”

“Naw, we don’t leave until the middle of next week. Besides, you know I wasn’t gonna miss Sunday dinner at home,” he replied as he planted a kiss on her cheek. Then he turned to me. “Marli, this is my mama, Elizabeth King. Mama, this is Marli Meadows. She’s new to St. Louis.”

I know I must’ve been looking crazy as I mechanically shook Mrs. King’s hand. This woman was Chris’s mother? It
couldn’t
be. Chris was not mixed. He was very obviously white. Wasn’t he?

“Hi,” I said weakly.

“Nice to meet you, Marli,” she said warmly and then returned her attention to Chris.  “Chris, your father’s in the living room. Dinner’s not quite ready yet.”

He kissed her on the cheek again. “Yes, ma’am.”

Chris held my hand as he led me through the foyer and into the modestly decorated living room. The house was filled with the aroma of something truly heavenly. I couldn’t readily identify what was cooking, but it definitely smelled good.