A Weekend Affair (18 page)

I laughed with him. “Hey, better there than anywhere else,” I countered.

“You'll get no complaints from me,” he noted in agreement. “I would ask you if you liked the food, but since you're almost done, I would take that as a yes.”

I nodded. “You would be correct. And yours?” I asked, eyeing his filet mignon.

“It's good. Would you like to try some?”

I did, but not wanting to appear greedy, I simply replied in ladylike fashion, “No, thanks, I'm good.”

Diego's phone, which was on the bed next to him, began to vibrate. It was close enough for me to see the name of the caller. It was Ricki again. I looked at him, a sly smile on my face.

“What?” he asked, letting the call go to voice mail as he finished his meal.

“Nothing,” I coyly replied.

“That look didn't say nothing.”

He got up, put the ice bucket with the wine and our glasses on the nightstand, and rolled the cart into the living room. He came back and stretched out on the bed, waiting for me to respond.

I made myself comfortable and lay on my stomach, my elbows resting on the bed. “It's just that for someone who's not your wife or girlfriend, she's called you a lot. Which leads me to believe you two have ‘a thing,'” I said, making air quotes.

Looking at me questioningly, he asked, “‘A thing'?” mimicking my hand motions.

“Yes, ‘a thing.' You two aren't in a relationship, but you have an agreement of sorts.”

“Is that another one of your expert assessments?”

He refilled both glasses, handing me mine.

“No, just the assessment from a woman who's been in more than one relationship over the years. I'm no longer involved with my ex, Daniel, but he still calls and texts me at times like we are.”

Diego took a few sips of wine.

“Like when he called you last night?”

“I was wondering how much you'd heard,” I replied.

“Sorry, I wasn't eavesdropping. But I did hear enough to know that he showed up at your home unexpectedly, was trying to monopolize your time, and was trying to make you feel guilty because you were away.”

“Not eavesdropping, huh?” I needled.

He laughed, but then his voice took on a serious tone.

“I know you said he wasn't, but are you sure he's not crazy?”

“Daniel's harmless,” I said, downplaying his question. “I was with him long enough to know he's more bark than bite. Anyway, I won't have to deal with him for another couple of days.”

“Why deal with him at all?”

I shrugged. “Because even though we're not together, I'm still trying to be a good friend.”

“Sometimes being a good friend means knowing when to let go and learning to let someone make their own way,” he countered.

He did have a valid point. I wondered if he'd take his own advice. And as if on cue, his phone started to vibrate yet again.

“Aren't you going to answer that? It could be important,” I said.

He picked up the phone, as if to answer it. Instead, he turned it off, placing it back on the nightstand. “It wasn't important,” he replied.

I studied his face and could tell he had something on his mind.

“What is it?” I asked.

“You're leaving tomorrow,” he stated.

“Yes.”

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Absolutely. I wouldn't expect anything less.”

“This may sound rude, but I want to be inside you right now.”

Although I was a bit surprised by his candor, I couldn't fault the man for his honesty or his directness. “Tell me how you really feel,” I said.

“If you allow me, I can show you better than I can tell you.”

“I don't know, Diego. I think I've indulged a little too much already.”

“Then what's one more indulgence? I promise, you won't be disappointed.”

He leaned over, his lips meeting mine. He pulled me on top of him, his manhood pressing against me. Despite my misgivings, I succumbed to temptation. It was going to be our last time together, after all. My lips parted as his tongue entered my mouth, the sweet taste of wine still on his breath.

He reached under my sleep shirt, pulled it up and over my head, and tossed it to the side. Chest to chest, the fingers of one of his hands grabbed at my locs, the other at my boyshorts. He couldn't get them off fast enough. Just like my shirt earlier, he ripped them from my body. His big hands palmed my cheeks, squeezing them. I moaned into his mouth.

I sucked on his neck, trailing soft kisses down his chest, reaching his shorts. I got them, along with his boxer briefs, down halfway, freeing him from their constriction. He kicked them off the rest of the way. I took him in my hand, stroking him from shaft to tip, his precome coating my fingers. He groaned low and deep in his throat as I licked his head, lowering my mouth onto it. I brought him further into my mouth, his tip hitting the back of my throat. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, his fingers digging into the sheets.

While I continued to orally pleasure him, Diego reached out for me, turning me around, lifting me up and lowering me until my sultry folds were in his face. He spread my lips with his fingers, penetrating me with his tongue. Wrapping his arms around my back, he held me in place, as we found sixty-nine ways to please each other.

Wanting to grant his request, I slid down his torso, grabbing a condom off the nightstand. Opening it, I sheathed him, turned myself around, and lowered myself slowly onto his penis, clenching my muscles along the way. I placed my hands on his chest, riding him, his fingernails digging into my thighs. I saw the sweet agony on his face as he tried to hold back. Grasping me firmly, he flipped me over onto my back, placing one of my legs on his shoulder; long, deep thrusts stroked my G-spot.

My soprano cries mixed with his deep bass ones until they culminated into a crescendo louder than the waves crashing outside as we climaxed in unison . . . The first of many, as we tasted, teased, and pleased each other from late night until early morning, until finally, we both collapsed in sweet exhaustion.

* * *

There was a warm breeze coming off of the ocean. The waves were calm and inviting, not like the choppy, harsh ones of just a few short hours ago. The sun was shining, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was a perfect Sunday, my last full day in Georgia.

Diego and I decided to have breakfast together at HH Prime, sitting on the covered deck. We called Shell and Carl to let them know our plans but decided not to wait for them. Not that they had shown up yet anyway. It appeared that those two had lost their minds and seemed to have forgotten they were married—not to each other, but to other people.

“I hope those two get here soon,” I said, biting into my Belgian waffle topped with bananas, strawberries, and whipped cream. “We have to get back on the road soon.”

Diego was chowing down on two scrambled eggs with a prime cut five-ounce filet and golden potatoes. “No telling with those two. I know Carl's going through something, but I never expected this.”

I nodded in agreement. “I never expected this from Shell either.”

But then again, I was surprised by my own behavior. I seemed to have zoned out for a few seconds. The sound of Diego's voice brought me out of my trance.

“What?” I asked.

“I said you kept me up all night . . . again,” he said with a wink.

“Are you complaining?”

“Never.”

“You want me to apologize?” I teased.

“You could, but I wouldn't accept.” We smiled at each other.

“Damn, y'all couldn't wait for us?” I heard Shell's voice behind me, breaking my flirtatious mood.

Turning around, I said, “We called the two of you over an hour ago, and you said you'd be down in ten minutes.”

“Yeah, about that—”

Cutting her off I said, “Don't even. Whatever you're getting to eat, please get it to go. I want to get back on the road before traffic gets bad.”

Diego had excused himself. He and Carl were off to the side talking. Shell ordered French toast with cinnamon and vanilla, with two side orders: fresh fruit and turkey bacon. She completed her order with a large cup of orange juice.

“Diego looks tired,” she said, looking in his direction.

“We talked most of the night. The storm kept us up.”

She looked at me skeptically, “Talked. Yeah, okay.”

Her food arrived quickly, allowing me to avoid her further scrutiny, for the moment, anyway. After Carl picked up her tab, they walked us to our car. I had already placed my bags in the car before breakfast. Opening the trunk, Carl put Shell's belongings inside. Once she put her food on the front passenger seat and her orange juice in a cup holder, she and Carl stepped to the side to say their good-byes. They were kissing and hugging like she was his brand-new bride and he was going off to war.

Diego and I moved to the rear of the vehicle. “Well, this is it,” I said. “I actually had a nice time,” I stated, looking up at him.

“Me too,” he replied. “But don't let it go to your head,” he teased, making light of yesterday's conversation.

“Me? Never,” I said.

Diego leaned down, kissing me on the cheek. He smiled at me. “You have a safe trip back home, Gabrielle.”

I returned his smile. “You too. And get some sleep.”

We waved to each other as he and Carl headed back to the hotel. Shell was standing there, her arms crossed in front of her, looking at me the way she does one of her children when they are caught doing something wrong.

I walked to the driver's side, climbed into the vehicle, fastened my seat belt, and waited for her to do the same. She took her food off the seat, placed it on her lap, then fastened her seat belt.

“Hmph,” she said.

“What?” I asked, placing the key in the ignition.

“
Talked,
my ass!” she said, shaking her head.

As I drove off, all I could do was laugh. The weekend didn't turn out at all like I expected, but in the end, I was left with some very fond memories of my weekend affair.

It was the third Saturday in March, March fifteenth, to be exact. I had always set the third Saturday of the month aside like clockwork to have lunch with my mom; a time I set aside to make sure all of her needs were taken care of. Even though I paid most of her monthly expenses through automatic bill pay, I still wanted to make sure that she didn't need or want for anything else.

Usually, it was just the two of us in order for Mom and me to spend some quality time together, but on this outing, I invited my younger sister Anastasia. Graduation was fast approaching, and I wanted to know what she wanted for her graduation gift. When it came to graduations, I always let my siblings choose their reward. They put in all the hard work, so they deserved that option.

I was now permanently living at the two-bedroom condo Dalisay and I owned in Chelsea in Manhattan. I still had some things I needed from the house, so I decided to kill two birds with one stone . . . pick up my belongings and take Mom to her favorite restaurant in Garden City, Seasons 52. She loved the food there because all of the items on the menu were less than 475 calories.

You see, Mom was, let's just say a
big
lady, and she loved her soul food. If wasn't for me making sure she had healthy food in her home, no telling how or what she would eat. Not to mention she was very sedentary. She was tall, standing at about five feet ten, but she also weighed about 250 pounds. In her younger days, she reminded me the late actress Tamara Dobson, who portrayed Cleopatra Jones in the 1970s Blaxploitation movies. But that was then; this is now. Recently, she had a doctor's appointment that scared the life out of her. Her blood pressure was elevated, she was borderline diabetic, and her cholesterol and triglycerides were high. I think the doctor put the fear of God in her because she called me in a panic saying she needed to make major changes in her lifestyle. She even asked me to help her get a gym membership.

The doctor told her that she needed to change her diet and start exercising or else she was running the risk of cutting quite a few years off her life, which would scare anyone, especially since she was only fifty-five. Funny thing is, I had been telling her the same exact thing for years. Guess because I didn't have MD after my name I didn't know what the hell I was talking about.

The plan was for me to pick up Mom and Ana from Mom's three-bedroom Harlem condo, and to head to Garden City from there. After that, we'd quickly shoot over to the house. I was hoping Dali wouldn't be there. Neither Mom nor Ana were particularly fond of her, especially now. If I was completely honest with myself, I'd finally have to admit that Mom never liked her. Like Diego, Mom thought she was a gold digger. I remember plenty of times when we would visit Mom when we were in college, and would get severely clowned by both of them. But unlike Diego, Mom was too nice to say, “I told you so.”

I was fortunate enough to live someplace that had an attached indoor parking deck. Many people in the city weren't as lucky. Some parked on the street, having to deal with alternate-side-of-the-street parking regulations, while others parked their cars in parking decks, paying exorbitant amounts of money monthly to keep their cars safe. I was from New York and many people, including myself, have cars and take public transportation.

Once I got to my car, I called Ana to make sure she was already at Mom's.

“Hey, Panther,” I heard my little sis say.

“Hey, Nu'bia,” I replied.

As kids, Ana and I were avid comic book readers. Aside from the fact that we loved to read, I figured we were so into comics because a fantasy world seemed much better than our reality as we knew it. She called me Panther, short for Marvel Comics Black Panther, and her nickname was Nu'bia after the black Amazonian warrior from DC Comics. Even though we were adults, the names still stuck, especially for Ana, who looked like an Amazon standing at six feet. She always kept her hair in either an Afro or in braids, and looked even more like Tamara Dobson, who was six feet two.

“I'm on my way. Are you two ready?”

“Yeah, Mom's picking out a wig to wear, and you know how long that takes, but other than that, we're ready.”

I shook my head. Mom had more wigs at home than Vivica Fox had in her wig line. “Okay, well, traffic is good, so I'll be there in about fifteen minutes.”

“All right, just call me when you're out front.”

“Will do.”

On the short drive uptown, I thought about last month's trip to Savannah, about Shell, and wondered how she was faring. I thought about how I had no remorse whatsoever for what happened between us. Like I kept telling myself, once Dalisay cheated and decided to keep dude's baby, our marriage was officially over. Although we were married on paper, in my heart, it was a done deal.

I still had Shell's phone number but decided against contacting her. Her life seemed complicated enough as it was, and I didn't want to add to it. Besides, even if I did want to continue seeing her, there was no telling if she had gotten back with her husband. Although she sounded doubtful at the time, she hadn't completely ruled out reconciling with the jackass. Then there was the distance. Atlanta was almost 900 miles away, and although I could easily hop a flight on a whim to see Shell, she didn't have it like that. Between taking care of her kids and going school, she probably wouldn't have any time at all for me. And let's not forget, she was only twenty-six years old. Although she said she liked older men, she still married someone her own age. Makes me wonder if she could truly handle being with someone more mature. While I enjoyed our short time together, all things considered, realistically, at this moment, I couldn't envision there being an “us.”

I did have to admit, though, that was some good motherfuckin' pussy. Even after two kids, it still had that snapback. I guess that comes from being young, but my old forty-year-old ass showed her a thing or two. Had her screaming my name and coming all over the place. Even got her to admit her husband never hit like I did. Yes, I do have a bit of an ego. Dali shot it to hell in a few months with all her bullshit, but it took less than forty-eight hours with Shell to remind me who I truly was—the motherfuckin' man. I would definitely consider making a special trip just to be in the middle of those thick thighs again. My dick got hard just thinking about it.

About fifteen minutes later, I arrived at Mom's. I pushed all thoughts of Shell to the back of my mind and called Ana. She and Mom came downstairs and hopped into the car. Once pleasantries were exchanged, I drove the short thirty minutes to Seasons 52. Conversation was kept to small talk, the main discussion being held for the restaurant.

Once we were seated, I began. “Mom, all the bills for the month have been paid. Is there anything else you want or need?”

“No, Bert,” she said, making me cringe.

I hated that nickname, especially when she used it in public. She had been calling me that for years. Said it was because even as a baby, I was so serious and always had my brows furrowed, like the character from Sesame Street.

“Now, Mommy, you know Panther hates when you call him that,” Ana said, laughing.

“Well, if he would stop being so serious all the time and smile a bit more, maybe I'd stop calling him that,” she said with a wink.

“You know he's going through some things, and I doubt he feels like smiling much these days. Cut him some slack.”

“Hell, he should be grinning from ear to ear, knowing he'll be rid of the bitch from hell soon. That's reason enough to smile,” she countered, looking over the menu. Mom was not one to mince words.

“I'm right here, you know,” I said, a scowl on my face.

Mom patted me on the hand. She always did that when she wanted me to calm down, wanted to comfort me.

“We know, Bert. I just want you to be happy. You missed out on a lot when you were a child because of me, and now, you'll soon get the opportunity to live your life. That's something to be happy about; that, and the fact that you're alive, successful, and have a great career. Those are things to be grateful for.”

I couldn't argue with her. Nor could I deny the fact that I couldn't be upset with her for too long. She always knew how to get to me.

“You're right, Mom, and I am grateful.”

At that moment, our waiter showed up, ready to take our orders. Mom ordered organic steamed edamame as an appetizer, and as her entrée, an organic baby spinach salad with raspberries, toasted pine nuts, goat cheese, and white balsamic vinaigrette. For a drink, she simply ordered water with lemon, much to the shock of Ana and me. Being from the South, Mom loved her sweet tea. We both gave each other a look after Mom completed her order.

“Now, don't go giving each other those side looks like you always do. I know I have to eat better. I ain't tryin' to die no time soon,” she said a smile on her face.

“Mom, you know we're just concerned, that's all,” I said.

I stopped speaking so Ana could place her order; then I placed mine. We both chose water as our beverage in support of Mom and her healthy lifestyle change.

“Mommy, we're just happy you're taking this so seriously and want you to know we will fully support you in any way we can.”

“Well, I appreciate the support, but don't go changing your ways for me. This is something I need to do, not you.”

“You may not want our full support, but you've got it anyway, whether you like it or not,” I said, adjusting my glasses.

“Boy, you better watch that tone,” Mom said, pointing a finger at me. “I know you're used to running things, including other people's lives, but I got this. Understood?”

“Yes, ma'am,” I said taking a sip of water from my glass.

Mom was the only person on the planet who could get away with calling me “boy.” Anybody else would get chin checked. She was right though; I was used to controlling the situations and people in my life, but that was out of habit more than anything else. I had noticed recently that she had started to take more control of her life, and while I thought it was a good thing, I still liked being in charge.

“Okay, did you get a chance to look into the gym membership for me?” she asked.

As our food was being placed on the table, I replied, “Yes. I checked with your insurance company, and as part of a wellness incentive, you are entitled to use certain gyms free of charge. The closest one to you is the YMCA right around the corner. It has senior classes, a pool, personal trainers, everything you need. If you want, I can go with you to help you sign up.”

“That would be appreciated. Thank you, Carl.”

I shifted my attention to Ana. “I wanted to know what you wanted for your graduation gift, Ms. Ph.D.,” I said with pride. She wasn't my child, but I still felt like a proud poppa. Ana was the smartest of us all, even me, and that's something that was hard to admit.

She stopped eating to answer me. “I was thinking maybe a down payment for a flat across the pond?” She looked a bit scared as she asked.

I gazed at her, a quizzical look on my face. “Why would you need a place in England?”

She looked from Mom to me. “Because I've been offered a teaching position there, and I really want to accept it. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Mom jumped up from her seat, reaching over to give Ana a huge bear hug. “Baby, I am
so
proud of you. But there was no doubt in my mind that you'd do great things, just like your brother over there.”

I too was proud of Ana, but at the same time, I couldn't imagine her not being close to the family. She'd be all alone, in a foreign country, with no one looking out for her, no Panther to have her back. Not to mention I was losing my road dog. But I had to realize my little sister was a grown woman who had to make her own decisions and live her life on her own terms. All I could do was be happy for her, and be there if and when she needed me.

“Nu'bia, you got it.”

She raised one eyebrow. “Hold up. No argument? No trying to convince me to stay? Who are you, and what did you do with my Panther?” she teased.

I laughed. “Panther had to learn to let Nu'bia be her own woman. You've grown into a pretty amazing one at that. Just promise me two things.”

“What's that?” she asked.

“One, you let me throw you the biggest, most bad-ass graduation party ever, and two, you allow me to provide you with an open ticket so you can come home whenever you want.”

This time it was Ana's turn to get up. “You got it, big bro,” she said, kissing me on the cheek.

Once we finished eating, we drove to the house, which took no time at all. I parked the car in the driveway, waiting for Mom and Ana to get out. I knew Dalisay was there because her car was also in the driveway. I couldn't worry about that now. I just wanted to get my belongings and go.

When I got to the door, I tried my key. It wouldn't turn. I thought maybe the lock was frozen because of the frigid temperatures, so I tried opening the side door to the garage, and then I used my garage door opener. None of them worked. That bitch had all the locks changed! I felt myself getting pissed. How the fuck was she going to change the locks on a house that had my goddamn name on the deed?

I rang the doorbell, waiting for her to answer. No reply. I called both the house phone and her cell phone, and still no response. Finally, when I started banging on the door threatening to call the police because she locked me out of my own home, she reluctantly answered.

“What do you want, Carl?” she sneered.

“What the fuck do I want? What do you mean what the fuck do I want?” I questioned, pushing past her, with Ana and Mom right behind me. “This is still
my
motherfuckin' house, and I can come and go as I please. Who gave you the right to change the goddamn locks?”