Less Than Perfect Circumstance (4 page)

“Yes, mother. I am.”

“Have you spo
ken to you sister and nephew?” s
he asked.

“Yes, I have. I can’t help but feel guilty about what happened to J.R. I spoke to him and he’s doing well. Oh,
and Dane called this morning. He has been busy, but said he will be in New York and will try to visit me.”

“It’ll be good for you to see him. Before I forget, Rian called yesterday.”

“Is he on vacation yet?”

“Yes he is, and he sounds like he and Lena are having a blast.”

Lena was a young lady Rian had m
et on a
trip to the islands.
I thought about taking my
mother’s advic
e. I
did need to get out of the house, actually venturing further than the front steps
, or the end of the driveway. I
thought abou
t the fitted Huskies cap Ihad
got
ten
from Sha’len on his first visit to the campus.

CHAPTER FOUR

WE BELONG TOGETHER

Trevor

It was a dark and stormy evening
;
a day when nightfall came sooner and without warning. A week that began bright and sunny ended with torrentia
l downpours and flash floods. I
was lying in bed, feeling soothed by the raindrops fallin
g outside the window. I
had been in that place many times
before, but what I
felt on this particular night was different. Som
ething, no, someone
was missing.

After the rain ended, those stubb
orn crickets chirped outside my window incessantly. Nothing I
did seeme
d to stifle
the infinite sound

not the pillows covering my ears, not my
escape to the living room, since the ch
irping only seemed to follow. I felt sleepless. I
sat on the living room floo
r, in front of the sofa with my
legs crossed Indian sty
le. Only one thing could lull
m
e to sleep

not the annoying chirps, not the senseless late night television programs.

I can’t seem to let him go
, I thought. I reached for my
cell phone and dial
ed a number. With each ring, my
heart po
unded in anticipation. Our
conver
sations had cha
nged. There was
usually a name, a different voice or two in the background, and sometimes our conversations ended too soon because Kelvin was always on his way out the door. Tonight I hoped none of those interruptions were present.

“Hey
. I wanted to give you a call before heading to bed.” I greeted
.
“How are you?”

“That’s cool! Is everything ok?”

Kelvin’s voice echoed
in excitement.

“Yes, everything is fine. I just had a long day. I had several offsite meetings, each one lasting longer than they needed to.  I have a few more meetings tomorrow mornin
g.
” I explained.“What’s good with you?”

“I’m trying to stay busy, and work is definitely
making sure that happens.” 

When I first met Kelvin, we
seemed inseparable. People say you often find love when you least expected
it, and that’s what happened. After my last relationship, I
vowed not t
o fall for anyone else because I
fell too easily, and then when the relationship ended, it seemed
I
was always the last to know.
I had gotten so good at ignoring the signs.
Of course, what we pl
an is not often what happens. I
had given up on dating
.

During the day, I concentrated on work, and at night I buried myself in a good book that provided the escape I needed. My
self-imposed imprisonment had gotten to the point where invites ca
me less frequent from fri
ends

from anyone.
I
simply wasn’t interested, and after awhile, this
became apparent to everyone. I was fine being by
m
yself, or at least, I had convinced myself I
was. Ever
yone else seemed bothered by my
decision
to spend my
nights isolated from the rest of the world.

“I have an early flight tomorrow,” Kelvin continued. “I’m heading to New York
for a two-
day conference.
Dr. and Ms. Randolph Gerhard are the keynote speakers.
”

Although he enjoyed his days in the office, Kelvin looked forward to these escapes. He wa
s great at networking
and seemed to connect with those he me
t on one level or another. At 29
, Kelvin was a successful Research Executive for a major pharmaceutical company. He was heading to New York for a conference on Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder.

“You’ve always admired Dr. Gerhard and respected his research on ADHD. I am sure you’re excited about this trip”

“Man, all smiles since I met with my supervisor. I can hardly contain myself at work.”

A few weeks ago, Kelvin wasn’t so sure he would be selected to represent the company on this trip. As usual, I tried to assure him he
was a shoe-in, but it was obvious Kelvin didn’t want to hang his hopes too high and watch it come crashing down in his face.

I had realized Kelvin’s happiness was my happiness. I
loved the excitement in Kelvin’s voice, which seems to triple when talking about his career. With a hint of fatigue in his voice and knowledge of his early morning travels,
though I was reluctant to cut our conversation short, I didn’t want to be selfish.

“I love you
,”
I said, and attempted to think
m
y
self to sleep.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Music was one of my many simple pleasures. I didn’t write it, could
n’t carry a tune if you paid me
, so mostly, I just listened. Kelvin was full of surprises, and on my 25
th
birthday, that’s exactly what he did. That high-priced sound system that I turn on blast, belting the latest Mariah Carey or classic Aretha, came from him.

I
remember
walking into the house and hearing Vanessa Williams’ “The Easiest Thing” coming from just
about
everywhere. Kelvin was a very romantic person and held nothing back when it came to showing how much he loves. With the lights dimmed and candles lit, Kelvin sat in boxers in the lounge chair waiting for me to notice him. Kelvin was tall, dark and handsome. Yes, every woman’s description of their ideal man. His smile was perfect, and he looked as good in his clothes as he did out of them. He stood and pulled me close to him.

“Hey,
handsome. Happy B
irthday,” Kelvin whispered.

He allowed his tongue to sweep gently across my ear. I felt his manhood rising in excitement from the thought of where this brief interaction might lead. Kelvin kissed my forehead and offered me massage

the best I’ve ever had. The next morning I awoke in Kelvin’s arms.

As I reminisced, I realized it was those moments I
missed the most. It’s ironic that just when you thought you had everything, something happens to remind you that
life isn’t perfect after all. I had not been by
m
yself in years, but when I
woke the next
morning, that’s exactly how I found
m
y
self.

I
didn’t have the comfortable night’s sleep
I could have had I not
fallen
asleep on the floor, in front
o
f the sofa. When I woke, I
thought abo
ut calling Kelvin but dialed my
fat
her’s number instead;
he wasn’t available.
Then, I called
Kelvin
only to be greeted by his voicemail. I left
a message
to let him know I
had been thinking about him
.

CHAPTER FIVE

I
DO
WHAT I WANT

Dexter

Her voice was just what I needed to hear. I
was becoming a stranger to the world and too familiar with the l
ively painted walls in this house. I
needed something to do
,
and someone exciting to do it with.

Shopping was always an
exhausting experience
, especially when I’m running the streets with Belinda. Still
,I
accepted the invitation to jo
in her on one of her many impromptu
shopping sprees. Doing da
mage is what she called these shopping extravaganzas. I was no different. I had my moments where I
did a little damage as well,
treating myself to a gift or two to uplift my spirits. Sometimes, it see
med shopping was my aphrodisiac

the on
ly high I needed when I was low

and Belinda was always there to make sure I was sky high.

Yet, Belinda had me beat. She was in her spend-money mood, and I did
nothing t
o stop her

she
knew I
wasn’t going to. I
f you work hard, play hard
, and shop even harder, that was my mantra.
Club Monaco, BCBG, jewelry from Cecile Jeanne Paris and Jinx Proof, and of course, no day would be complete without a visit to Beauvoir Wine Cellar. Belinda is
the Karen Walker of shopping,
and drank just as much.

With no hurry to end our evening, we
decided to dine at Le Tire
Bouchon
.
It was a long drive, but it gave us
even more time to chat. We
had a lot of
catching up to do. I
loved anything French, especiall
y French food, and this gave me
the opportunit
y to practice a language that I
so rarely used.

“Bon
soir
,
Monsieur
et
Mademoiselle! My name is Pierre Fallieres,” the waiter cheerfully greeted.

“You wouldn’t happen to be related to the ex Fren
ch President, would you?” I
joked with Belinda.

We hadn’t been seated five minutes and the foolery had already begun. The look Mr. Fallieres gave me
acknowledged the overheard,
and if looks could kill, I
would be dead.

“I’ll be your waiter tonight.” His French accent his disappeared, and all of a sudden he was more like and angered member of the kitchen staff. “
What would you like to drink?” h
e continued.

Belinda loved the smell of mocha and black cherry so it was no surprise she requested a bottle of Le Pin
Pomerol
.

“That’s an excellent choice, Mademoiselle,” the waiter complimented.

Pierre excused himself, and
after a brief moment, returned with the wine Belinda had selected. He wrapped a newly white napkin around the neck of the bottle and poured with care.

When
Belinda
tasted, she
allowed the wine to caress her palate. She closed her eyes and allowed her mouth to savor a wine e
qually rich in taste and price

the latter
was the least of her concerns
, if indeed, she had any. I
glanced up at her, realizing, again, how much Belinda glows when spending money.

“A glass for you, Monsieur?” Pierre
asked, tilting the bottle towards the wine glass.

“Certainly, thank you sir,
” I
responded, realizing that my
hopes of practicing any French had disappeared along with the smile on the waiters face.

Belinda knew her wines. She and her younger brother, Christian, spent much of their childhood in Wisconsin on a vineyard owned by their parents, Wendell and Andrea Todson. After they sold the vineyard and moved to Newport News, Virginia, Belinda attended and graduated from Texas Southern with a degree in Business Finance. Christian, then a
junior,
was a Bioenvironmental Engineering student at North
Carolina A & T State University. Belinda, who came from money, married money.
It wasn’t something she planned;
it just worked out that way. She enjoyed life. She enjoyed being Mrs. DaMarcusNealon even more.

“So what
will we be having today?” I asked, perusing the menu
.

“At this point it doesn’t matter. I’m starving from that shopping.”

Belinda wasn’t complaining. She didn’t mind that she shopped until she
damn near
dropped, as long as she could eat after she got up. She took a long sip from her wine glass and continued. “Oh, before I forget, the girls and I are going away in a few weeks.”

“And you want me to kee
p which eye on DaMarcus?”

I couldn’t decide if I was
joking or not.

“No. I just wished you could go with us.”

“As one of the girls?” I
joked.

“You are so silly,” Belinda responded, trying not to laugh too loud.

I
was nothing close to
being like one of the girls. I was a man first before I
was anythi
ng else
.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Belinda and her best friend, Shayna Copley, met durin
g the first week of new student’
s orientation at the Ernest S. Sterling Students life center. The student center is the “spot” on T
exas
S
outhern
U
niversity
’s campus. The two women were tall, caramel complexion, and without a doubt, strikingly beautiful. They could be easily mistaken for sisters; however until they met, they were nothing but strangers.  They stood side by side, reading the posting announcing majorette auditions.

Belinda was an excellent dancer and always dreamed of dancing in college. Joining “The Ocean of Soul” would be a dream come true. They auditioned and were both selected to dance for the premier band of the south. Belinda and Shayna were inseparable. They knew how to have fun. They were giggling buddies, and were very protective of each other.

Belinda and Shayna
stood on the field as the game
clock ticked slowly towards halftime. The TSU football game against visiting Virginia State University was one of importance. The two teams ha
d developed a friendly rivalry
and would love to
win bragging rights before a
loud, but well-behaved, bipartisan crowd.

DaMarcusNealon, who had suffered a sprained ankle in the previous week’s victory over Delaware State, stood on the sideline on a cool September evening, twirling a football in h
is hand

the closest he would get to any football action in such an important game.
Belinda
felt his gaze, but never reacted. After the game, DaMarcus limped up to Belinda
with an I’m-gonna-lay-it-on-you grin on his face.

DaMarcus
was full of compliments
, leaning on crutches, favoring his left ankle.
He had a sense of humor, and was very confident. Belinda
had been eying DaMarcus
, too,
but did not want to approach him first. She was a freshman. What, if any, interest would the star junior running back on the football team have in her? She had confidence, but imagine how she would have felt
if DaMa
rcus showed no interest at all

not that
she thought he would have rejected her advances. 

The
ir
courtship continued until DaMarcus’ surprising proposal at her graduation party. She never quite figured out how her parents were able to keep DaMarcus’ inte
nded proposal a secret. The
wedding planner
was instructed to make their wedding a night to remember.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. DaMarcus and Belinda Nealon. The announcement came over the P.A. system. DaMarcus was one foot taller and two years older than Belinda. They wer
e happier than any couple I
had seen on
their wedding day.
The guests stood and cheered as the beautiful couple made their way to join the bridal party at the front of the reception hall. Shayna was her maid of honor.

Ihad
met Belinda
one year
prior
and it didn’t take long for us
to
develop the relationship we had. I
sat front and center
to share in Belinda’s moment. I
was extremely happy for her, and the tears that flowed
as I
toasted the new couple were proof of that happiness.

CHAPTER SIX

WHEN I AM FILLED WITH MUSIC

Trevor

Mariah’s melodic voice echoed throughout the house. Her CD, Emancipation of Mimi, had been doing very well since its release. It was that CD where everyone in a relationshi
p, those experiencing a breakup
or terribly missing someone they love, felt Mariah had turned their story into a musical tribute. Mariah’s album was my life’s story. It’s as if Mariah and her songwriters were those figurative “flies on the wall”, sitting there, watching and listening to all that occurred in my relationship with Kelvin, and now sat as I tried to accept what we no longer have.

I had been saving it for a special occasion, but the thought of opening a bottle of Haut Brion watered my mouth. After a long hot
bath, I poured a glass full, picked up my cell phone and
lap top
, and walked to the second floor patio, just outside the kitchen.

My thoughts were as clear and as crisp as the early morning breeze. This would be a nice day to spend some of my energy on myself, since it seemed everyone and everything else had been my focus. I did
n’t
see anything wrong with pampering myself, and could think of a few things that would make me Mr. Feel Good. Hell, there’s always the option of working from home, even if only for a few hours.

“Good morning, Mr. Harrison.” Camille Johns-Clarvis, my secretary, answered in her usual cheerful, early morning voice. 7:35 am streamed across my laptop.

Camille’s hyphenated name reflected her birth mother and adopted family names. After a long interview process we had found someone dependable. Camille had her hands in everything, and I didn’t mind showing and telling her anything she wanted to know.

“Good morning, Camille. You’re in early again. You can’t keep out-doing me like this,” I joked.

“I’m just trying to get a head start on the week, Mr. Harrison,” Camille explained.

“I’m only teasing you. You’re doing a wonderful job, Ms. Johns-Clarvis. I just wanted to make sure you are aware of that,” I complimented.

“Thank you
,
Mr. Harrison. I’m definitely enjoying my job,” Camille continued. “But you’re not due in the office for another two hours, why are you up already? Is everything ok?”

“Oh, everything is fine, Camille. Thank you for asking,” I said,

acknowledging
her concern. “I’m just calling to inform you I will be working from my satellite office today.”

“Let me pull up your schedule, Mr. Harrison.”

Camille punched a few buttons on her keyboard and then continued.

“You have a 10:30 conference with Wesley and Mr. Millington, and at one o’clock, you have a meeting with Mr. Welsh. Would you like me to cancel?”

“The 10:30 I can do from here. Have Wesley call me once he gets
in contact with Mr. Millington
.”

“What do you want me to do about Mr. Welsh’s meeting?” Camille asked.

“If you can get in touch with him, give him my apologies for the inconvenience, then let him know we have to reschedule.”

“Do you have a specific date in mind?”

“Whenever he chooses, I’ll have to accommodate. I will be in the office the remainder of the week.”

“Is that all sir?”

“Yes. Thank you, Camille. If I think of anything, I will call you.”

“Enjoy your day off, Mr. Harrison.”

“Don’t worry. I plan on doing just that.”   

I thought about how dependent I had become on my new secretary. Camille had cheerfulness about her that most peo
ple might have complained about

I welcomed it. Maybe there was something other than coffee in that mug that’s always within reach on her desk. To think, this twenty-five year old would have been wasting her time walking the floor of a bookstore, helping sometimes rude and unappreciative customers. It wasn’t that I felt sorry for Camille when I handed her my business card and asked her to fax a resume to the office. I was more impressed with the time she took in assisting me during one of my many visits to the bookstore.