The cool Carolina night air blows against my face. I close my eyes and for a brief second I journey to a place where even stars can’t go. My mind not knowing the difference of whether I’m on the beaches of Nags Head or the white sands of Belize. At this point it really doesn’t matter because I am in the presence of an angel. Wherever she is, that’s where heaven is. I stare her down head to toe, observe her with admiration.
My eyes trace her petite frame as she gently places candles around the Jacuzzi, each motion carefully orchestrated, as if it were the procedures of a ceremony. Two small beeps sound, as the water romantically bubbles into the tub with dim lights gleaming through the reflection in the water. My memory taps me on the shoulder. I remember why I am here. I remember my purpose for being in Kandi’s’s life. I am healing. Slowly she removes her gown, her scars appearing as she uncovers herself. I position her in my arms, lay her in the water, then gently start massaging her aching muscles as the soothing heat from the Jacuzzi relaxes her. Stress, pain, and uncertainness float from her body with each gentle stroke I rub against her shoulders. The cool air continues to blow steadily as ocean waves echo creating a paralyzing melody that puts me in mind of a Jill Scott type harmonic succession.
Her eyes close. She’s in a place I could never venture but only desire to journey. My hands continue to knead her body gently for hours until both of our bodies have capitulated from the lengthy time we’ve been wondering in our own little twilight zone-ish fantasy worlds. Quickly she scurries off, leaving puddles of water forming as she escapes inside. We haven’t uttered words to each other in hours but it feels as though we’ve interchanged thoughts for millenniums, as if our minds had communicated electromagnetically with our bodies merely being corpses.
Kandi returns draped in an over sized beach towel that’s trailing behind her collecting more water from her footprints than what’s actually on her body. She’s still dripping wet. Her body shivers uncontrollably before she’s able to whip the towel around herself. I exit the tub, my body tightening from the cool air that attacked it. We both snuggle up in the towel, that doesn’t seem so oversized anymore. Our hands clinched tight to keep the towel snug enough to prevent the cool night air from having direct exposure to our bodies. I hold her in my arms until morning. Her limp body lay relaxed as the sun streamed its first rays over the ocean causing the warmth to kiss her face.
Her eye’s gradually focus.
“Good Morning” I whisper.
She continues to blink and stare off into the distance. Her expression holding like dried concrete.
“You know what I hate about dreaming” she asked. I didn’t respond. “I hate that you have to wake up from them.” She proceeded.
“What did you dream?” I then ask.
“I dreamed you carried me into heaven in your arms.”
We both sit quietly for close to an hour, neither of us move or make a sound, as we watch the sun rise into the clouds. I listen to her…absorb her. She doesn’t have to speak with words. I hear her spirit. Her sighs tell me about her pain. Her occasional chuckles inform me of her joyful thoughts she’s reliving in her head. Her spirit tells me that happiness has a new definition for her. This is how Kandi and I live our lives, we change the inevitable, restructure what’s sure to be, reconfigure the obvious and defeat certainty. We’ve been doing it for the last several months and with God’s help we’ll be doing it many more years to come.
Had we listened to the doctors, surely our destiny would have played out different, had we spiritually received the words of our family and friends, this day would never have birthed. Yet, because we became the architect of our own destiny, together we have found what many search a lifetime for, but never discover. Love.
Relatively speaking we’re all on a race against the clock, from the time we first breathe, until the time we’re no more. It’s during those seconds, hours, days, months, years, that we pursue what’s really important. The key to finding it is by living each and every moment without boundaries, without restraints, without regard to the deprivation or confinement, because when you do…Love Comes Around.
(One year prior)
“I admire you”, Creager said, as he sat slumped in the oversized chair in front of my desk.
I pretended not to hear him.
“I know you hear me”, he continued.
I pretend to be busy, but know that I must say something or he’ll sit there all day saying the same thing.
“Why is that?” I ask, as I actually start typing an email to Ladonna, my secretary.
“Because you have it all and now that you’re going to be VP, it really feels good to have been able to rub elbows with you. Hopefully that leadership has rubbed off on me” he said as he snuggled in the chair as if it wasn’t any work to be done.
I pause. Before I begin to speak, I choose my words carefully.
“First of all, I haven’t been selected for VP and I’m only a selectee for the position. Secondly, I wouldn’t be where I am now without an excellent sidekick such as you. So if you admire anybody, admire those who make people like me look good”.
Creager sits up in the seat as if he’s in a board meeting.
“Are you serious? Everyone including yourself knows that job is yours Javon, so please get use to the title”.
I change the subject.
“So how are Connie and the lil man?”
Creager chuckles, then shoots my own bullets back at me.
“Since we’re discussing relationships. I assume this means you’re getting married soon?”
I start ignoring him blatantly. My chair squeaks as I slide away from the desk. Silence controls the tempo in the room, as I try to shake off the awkwardness of the question. Creager is waiting but I am not breaking. I pour myself a cup of coffee, grab a banana nut muffin from the basket beside the coffee maker. Still silence.
“So are you getting married or what, Javon?” Creager asked with contained excitement.
I sit back in my chair, allow the aroma of the muffin and coffee to sooth me.
“In order to get married, you have to be in love Eric” I reply.
When I refer to Creager by his first name he knows that he’s got me off balance and the smirk on his face shows he’s realized it as well.
“Jay, you’ve been dating Solonge for a year now, it’s got to be getting serious.”
The fact he addressed me as Jay means that we’ve officially moved from business, to man to man status. It makes me a bit uneasy but Eric is my best friend. Eric has been there for me the last thirteen years through thick and thin. When I decided to sacrifice personal life for professional, he took the adverse route. While I was in the office at two or three o’clock in the morning, he was out living life. It wasn’t long before he found his queen, settled down and started a family. I keep grinding the corporate shuffle. My social life was pretty much obsolete but success comes at a price, and if the hype about me being selected for Vice President was true. The price was about to be worth seven figures plus bonuses.
“I wouldn’t exactly call a date every other weekend serious Eric.”
Eric slumped back into the chair. “What? Every other weekend?”
“Yes. I work every other Saturday. Remember?”
Eric thinks about it for a second, then shakes his head from side to side, as if I’ve disgusted him, but trust me, my pain is far worse than his.
“So you only get some every other weekend?”
I immediately respond.
“NO,NO,… I didn’t say I got anything. I… said…I went on a date every other weekend.”
Eric jumps up from the chair. His expression more comical than a picture of Flava Flav saying “yeah geee”.
“You haven’t been getting any? No wonder you be in here trippin.” Eric pauses. He starts to reconcile his thoughts. I know he’s trying to remember the last conversation we had about me actually doing the bad man’s dance. His memory is going so far back its spinning dust. Finally he submits.
“When was the last time?” he asked, puzzled.
“Three years ago”
“THREE YEARS?” he responded. “You got to be kidding Javon. Three years?” Eric stood to his feet staggering in sort of an “I’m coming to see you Elizabeth” Fred Sanford way. He staggers backwards all the way down the hallway until he’s out of sight.
I chuckle as I watch him through the glass wall that surround’s my office. On cue my phone rings.
It’s Solonge.
“Hey there Mr. VP” her soft voice projects from the other end of the phone.
I laugh. Allow myself to imagine the possibility for a minute, then I snap back to reality.
“Not yet” I reply.
“Well, I’ll be saying an extra prayer for you tonight.”
“No, thanks”
“Javvvon,” Solonge squealed with displeasure.
“What?” I reply, as if I don’t know what her emotion is fueled by.
Solonge had been saved for the past year, which is the actual reason we hadn’t slept together. I didn’t tell Eric because Solonge and I had agreed we’d try to keep our personal business, personal. She didn’t like the idea of people in our business and I mirrored that same thought. We had come close to being physical, very close, but due to her spiritual connection and my moral intervention, it hadn’t gotten any further than steamy kisses and extremely tense fondling. She was head over heels for me and I knew it, but I never took advantage of her feelings towards me. I am not sure what made her fall for me, but I believe it was a combination of things.
Solonge and I had met in a sort of unique way. I had happened to have fallen asleep in the office one night while working on an account the company was in the process of losing. Normally, I’d just stay at the office, shower in the upstairs gym and start my work day all over again, but that morning I felt propelled to go home. As I was walking through a park near my condo complex that morning around five thirty, I heard ruffling from the other side of the bushes. In New York it’s not unusual to hear ruffling in the bushes because homeless people sometimes make themselves some quite cozy havens, among the thorns and sticks, but something just didn’t sound right about this ruffling. I peaked around the rugged bushes to find a woman who was apparently disoriented standing on the other side.
“Ma’am, are you alright?” I asked startled but concerned.
She looked at me and for a minute I assumed everything was ok.
Suddenly she screamed, “I HATE MEN” and began running towards the small pond that was a few yards away.
I dashed after her before she was able to jump. Before I know it, she’s grasping me like I’m her last hope, tears streaming down her face. I took her to my apartment made her some tea and every since then, I’d been her knight in shining armor.
Her only hang up with me was my opinion regarding religion. I believed in God, but I didn’t believe in everything the so called good book said.
“Baby, you know how I feel about you saying things like that.”
I sigh, hoping that the conversation doesn’t turn into another one of her God is this, Jesus is that mini sermons. Sensing my agitation, she switched topics.
“I know this isn’t our normal protocol, but I was wondering if you were free tonight?” she asked in that same soft voice that had managed to captivate me dozens of times over the last year.
Her out of the blue question made me nervous. I shifted in my chair as I contemplated my answer. One side of me wanted to say “yes”, the other side was trying to drag me as far away from the question as possible.
“Yes… I’m free” I answered, with the feeling of regret immediately tackling me.
Solonge seemed surprised herself by my answer because it took her a minute to proceed.
“Since you’re free. I was hoping we could have dinner at my place tonight.”
Hesitantly I answered, “Sure…what time should I show.”
Her voice was saturated with excitement as she answered, “Come by around seven.”
“Alright, I’ll see you at seven.”
“Bye Javon. Oh and you have a blessed afternoon.” She joyfully concluded.
“Uh huh. Bye”
The sound of Robin Thicke’s “Lost Without You” echoed softly in the hallway of the c*ndominium complex as I strolled past the massive oak wood doors. Sweet aromas filled the large passageways leading to Solonge’s condo. I shortened my steps as I admired the Cerulean blue onyx tiles that lead to her condo. Nervousness teased me as I prepared to knock on the door.
“Knock, Knock”
“Hold on, I’m coming” Solonge’s sweet voice sounded from behind the door.
“Lost without You” quickly faded away, as the sounds of Shamora’s “Build You a House” gradually climbed to a soft tone.
Solonge hums the words softly as she opens the door.
Her Vera Wang fragrance dances up my nostrils. Solonge’s beauty is radiantly glowing. She’s noticed the look in my eyes. It’s a small reward for her and she loves it.
Her soft smile welcomes me in before her words do.
“Come in, come in” she orders.
“Smells nice” I say, as I attempt to keep my eyes from hurdling
her body from head to toe.
She lightly chuckles as she stares at me waiting for a compliment on how nice she looks in her Versace dress. I pretend to not know. Inside I know it’s her desire to hear those gratifying words, “wow… you look good”.
However my lips remain sealed.
“ Have a seat, make yourself at home” she ordered sweetly. “Do you want something to drink?”
“No” I reply, as I relax on the Italian leather couch that’s far more comfortable than the old Lazy Boy recliner I keep stashed in my man cave.
Solonge turns toward the kitchen, retrieves some finger dishes she’s prepared and eases herself onto the oversized couch beside me. I’m relaxed but for her the moment seems more tense.
She stares at me, with her thoughts playing jump rope amongst themselves. “Food will be ready in a minute”, she smiles.
I nod but remain silent. I want to speak but that gut feeling inside orders me to remain silent. As my grandmother use to say, “It’s the calm before the storm”.
The silence is interrupted by the oven timer in the kitchen.
Her body starts in motion but her eyes remain locked in on mines.
Solonge returns from the kitchen with Bone China plates and Wallace French Regency silverware. I observe her closely as she prepares the table.
“I can help do that”
“No baby, I got it” she says with a smile warm enough to melt butter.
Solonge prepares the table, we bless the food and all seems perfect. For a brief moment it all seems right. It feels like I am supposed to be here but for Solonge, there seems to be awkwardness in the air. I observe her as she racks over her angel hair noodles and if I’m not mistaken she’s had three glasses of La Mondotte.
“Is everything ok, Solonge?” I ask.
She doesn’t reply.
Her hand eases slowly across the table, connecting with mines.
“Come with me” she orders.
She leads me to the couch. I watch as she slowly walks over to the stereo. Chrisette Michele’s “Golden” plays, as Solonge’s body twirls. She’s expressing herself. Her ballerina routine is her way of expressing herself. She’s telling me so much through her movements. By the end of the song tears are rolling down her cheeks as she stares me eye to eye.
Her breaths are deep, so deep I can’t tell the difference between her breaths and her heartbeats.
I close my eyes. Again that feeling of right consumes me.
“Javon” she whispers, as she school girlishly fiddles with her hands. “You know God places –“
I stand to my feet, interrupt before she as a chance to continue.
“Solonge, I though you asked me here for dinner, not bible study”
Her voice cracks and her words stumble as she speaks, “Javon, can you please listen”
I uncomfortably flop back into the couch agitated.
She proceeds. “I know your heart. I know the man you are. God knows what he’s ordained you to be.”
I jump to my feet again, “That’s it… that’s it Solonge. I’m leaving” It’s my opportunity to escape.
I head for the door. She struggles to grab hold of whatever she can grasp. She manages to clinch my sweater. Somehow she’s managed to scrabble in front of me as we twist and turn to towards the door.
“No please… wait… just listen, please” she chants as the tears creep down her cheek. “Please Javon…wait. I LOVE YOU” she screams.
Her words stop me in stride.
She collapses to her knees, tears flowing like the Nile.
I am speechless.
She grabs my hand, leads me back to the couch.
I’m still processing the words, “I love you”.
She moves away. Her sigh exits her body like an out of air balloon.
“Wait here” she says as she leaves me alone on the couch.
She returns with a small teal colored box.
I’ve seen this before, it’s a Tiffany’s box.
Before I know it, Solonge is on her knees.
I’m lost. “What is she doing” I ask myself.
She starts to speak, “I know this isn’t the normal” she says, reaching for my hand and placing it above her heart. “Javon, there is only two things in this world I love for sure. One is my God… the other is you. I have God…whom I live for” she pauses as her voice cracks, “ now I want you… whom I can’t live without. Will you be my husband Javon?”
If I wasn’t already sitting down, I would have fallen down. My hands start shaking, I’m caught between my own emotions. As much as I know Solonge is a wonderful woman, probably any man’s definition of a wife. I can’t say “yes”. Not now. Even though at times, this feels right, something’s holding me back. Just because it feels right, don’t make it love I tell myself.
I don’t answer. Slowly I ease up from the couch. Her face bleeds with emotion, as I struggle within myself not to look back. I don’t want to hurt Solonge, but to say “yes” would be hurting me more. I turn the handle to the door and proceed back down the hallways that lead me here, leaving Solonge to gather the pieces of her heart in silence.
Posted By: Shakeim Edmonds
Friday, January 6th 2012 at 11:26AM
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