Loose Ends (12 page)

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Authors: Electa Rome Parks

BOOK: Loose Ends
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“Okay.” I nervously twisted a piece of my hair behind my ear. I put a small portion of food on my plate and sat down quietly across from him. I focused all my attention and energy on my plate and making it through dinner. My perfect evening had gone straight to hell.
 
 
Brice continued to eat and look at me while I attempted to chew my food. I didn’t dare look up.
 
 
“Kree, I didn’t mean to hurt you, but you know my feelings about having a stay-at-home wife. When we have babies, I want their mother at home.”
 
 
Still looking down, I said, “I know.” I wanted to say,
We don’t have babies yet. So what’s your point?
However, I knew the deal by now. I still remembered the first time he hit me early in our marriage. Over in Germany, I had arrived home late from a day of shopping to find a fuming Brice sitting on the sofa, eating a cold sandwich and drinking a beer. Angry words were exchanged, tears were shed by me, and I ended up with a split lip and promises from an apologetic Brice that he would never, ever hit me again.
 
 
“Kree, look at me. You can’t stand to look at me now? Believe me, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
 
 
I glanced up.
 
 
Brice looked like a wounded animal. I forced myself to give a plastic smile. “Okay, baby, I believe you.”
 
 
That seemed to make him happier and less tense. “Kree, you don’t have to cover up your body from me. Get up and pull off your robe.”
 
 
I stared at him for a few seconds in disbelief, not moving, and Brice patiently waited. Something in his eyes told me to do what he asked.
 
 
“Okay.” I slowly stood up to untie my robe and place it on the adjacent kitchen chair. The flimsy material of my short gown didn’t cover up too much. Now I felt self-conscious with my nakedness.
 
 
Brice looked me up and down with appreciation. I guess he ignored the bruises that were very prevalent now.
 
 
“Nice. I love to see you in that.”
 
 
We continued the remainder of our dinner in silence. I don’t know what was going through Brice’s mind, but I was thinking that, once again, he was making me feel like a whore. Every now and then Brice would ask me something and I would answer. It was all a blur.
 
 
When Brice finished his dinner, I jumped up to take his plate into the kitchen, scrape it off and place it in the dishwasher. I planned to go to bed and get away from Brice for the remainder of the night.
 
 
As I was walking by, Brice grabbed me gently by the hand. “Come here, Kree. Where are you going in such a hurry?” He pulled me onto his lap and intertwined his fingers with mine.
 
 
I sat down with my entire body frozen. Stiff.
 
 
“Relax, baby, I’m not going to hurt you; loosen up.” He gently massaged my neck and back in circular motions.
 
 
Brice looked at me curiously for a second, then tilted my head to his with his hand, forcing his tongue into my mouth and pulling me into him.
 
 
Brice rubbed his strong, firm hands between my legs and kissed my neck and breasts until a soft moan escaped my lips. He tongued me down with deep, passionate kisses and gently sucked and squeezed my breasts and nipples as they responded to his touch. My gown was down at my waist now.
 
 
“Yeah, that’s my baby. Close your eyes and give in to the good feelings. Doesn’t that feel good?” he repeated over and over while his fingers probed and prodded.
 
 
Even though I didn’t want to enjoy it, my body betrayed me. Brice swept me up into his arms like his property and carried me into our bedroom.
 
 
At one point he turned my chin to make me look at him, deep into his light brown eyes.
 
 
“Kree, come for me, baby. Give in to it; come for me.” Faster, deeper, faster, harder he went. A volcano was rising. Bubbling. Erupting. It was amazing. Suddenly I felt this warm sensation engulf my entire body and my legs started trembling. At his command I came for him, hard. Brice never took his eyes off me. I shuddered uncontrollably beneath him as he stroked my hair and face. With images of Brice triumphantly smiling down at me, I fell sound asleep.
 
 
Mia
 
 
“Okay. I’m okay. I couldn’t be better. I’m fine. Inhale ... exhale . . . breathe through your nose. It’s natural to be nervous. He doesn’t control me. He can’t intimidate me any longer.” I repeated this three times softly to myself as I pulled outfit after outfit from my walk-in closet and dresser drawers. Too tight, too conservative, too short, too sexy . . .
 
 
The big reunion night had finally arrived after several delays. Lyric had gotten an ear infection and Christian had gone in to work unexpectedly, etc. . . . Tonight was the night; we couldn’t put it off any longer. It was showtime! Lights, camera, action!
 
 
Christian had been dressed long ago. He chose a simple pair of tan slacks with a light-colored, lightweight pullover sweater. Christian was looking completely casual, laid-back and relaxed with his recently trimmed hair and goatee. This wasn’t fazing him one bit. I had finally gotten him out of the house for a short time. I gave him and Lyric kisses and sent him on his way to drop her off at Mama’s for the night.
 
 
I didn’t need to be any more nervous than I already was, and Christian’s watching and rushing me was not helping matters. After leaving Mama’s, he had instructions to pick up our Greek salads and the shrimp and lobster party platters from a little gourmet shop near Midtown. The bottles of wine were already chilling in the refrigerator, and our house was immaculate. It was so clean you could literally eat off the floor. It should be; I had spent last night cleaning it from top to bottom. Nervous energy.
 
 
I felt like a giddy teenager getting ready for her first big date. My stomach was full of butterflies and nervous flutters. It wasn’t that I was looking forward to this; it was that I didn’t know what to expect from tonight. If memory served me correctly, anything was possible with Brice.
 
 
Christian had finally informed me that he and Brice had met and talked weeks earlier. I wasn’t surprised, and, amazingly, I wasn’t even upset. I knew my Boo missed him, and my love for Christian overcame any anger I may have felt. Now Brice had my palms sweaty, had me pacing back and forth and basically acting like a lunatic, with my stack of clothes getting higher and higher on our king-size bed. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to go casual, dressy, in between or what. I didn’t know how to dress or even how to act. I was at a serious loss, but Brice had always had that effect on me.
 
 
Finally I stopped, chilled and reflected after a frantic call to Sharon. She said one sentence to me and I was empowered: “Girl, don’t give him your power.” With that one line, I hung up with a smile on my face and Sharon’s advice in mind—to make him sorry for what he couldn’t have anymore.
 
 
After deciding to be myself, I chose to wear a denim wraparound knee-length skirt with a bright red knit wraparound top that tied on the side. It dipped a bit low in the front, but it had a built-in support bra and was comfortable. Tonight comfort was key.
 
 
Pleased that I had finally made a decision on my attire, I could relax for a minute. However, after glancing down at my watch, I decided I’d better get a move on because the magic hour was fast approaching. As my soothing bubble bath ran, I gave the living room one last going over. I strategically placed photos of Christian and me, and of Christian, Lyric and me, all happily enjoying our lives together, throughout the living room. I moved one of our wedding photos to the end table.
 
 
I placed the potpourri in containers and lit my scented candles—not because I was trying to create an intimate atmosphere or mood, but because I had discovered years earlier that candles relaxed me and the potpourri simply made the house smell great. A few minutes later I immersed myself in my soothing bathwater and listened to my Sade CD, the one with all her hits, on which she sings about the ups and downs of love gone wrong and loving someone too much: “Is It a Crime,” “Sweetest Taboo.”
 
 
I lay back against the tub, closed my eyes and wondered again if I was—if we were—making the right decision. Well, it was too late now. In another hour and fifteen minutes, according to the clock,
he
would reenter my life, a man I hadn’t set eyes on in nearly five years. A man whom I had given everything I had to give and it still wasn’t enough. Brice took, took and took. Sade had been there; she could relate. I could feel her pain through her music. I personally knew what it felt like to be a fool for love.
 
 
I finally toweled off, rubbed Tropical Nectar Victoria’s Secret lotion all over my body, and sprayed on one of my favorite perfumes, Miracle. It was going to take a miracle to make it through this evening. By the time I heard Christian unpacking grocery bags in the kitchen, I had put the finishing touches on my hair and makeup. I loved my hair in this short, wavy style. It was low-maintenance. All I had to do was spray on some oil sheen, brush, fluff my fingers through it and go. My makeup consisted of a touch of Fashion Fair red lipstick and a hint of mascara on my already thick eyelashes. Sometimes I wore a little blush or eye shadow.
 
 
I took one last look at myself in the full-length mirror mounted on the closet door and smiled at my reflection. I must admit, I looked good. Glowing even. I was lucky after having Lyric; my body bounced right back. I still had perky breasts and a flat, tight stomach. I looked to the right, then turned to the left. Yeah, I looked
good
. Damn good!
Eat your eyes out, Brice. Your ass won’t touch this again.
When I walked into the kitchen, Christian did a double take as he finished putting the food on one of our silver platters.
 
 
“Did you get everything, baby?” I put my arms around his waist from behind and squeezed hard.
 
 
“Yes, baby, everything on your list. Do you want to double-check?” he asked jokingly, squeezing me back.
 
 
“No, no, I believe you. I just want everything to be perfect.” I rearranged some items on the platter. There was nothing like a woman’s touch.
 
 
Satisfied with the arrangement of my platter, I checked on the wine and the cheesecake in the fridge again. Then I wiped off the counter, which was already clean, for the third time. I walked over to the sink to wash a juice glass that was in there, dried it off and placed it in the cabinet. Christian stood there the entire time, leaning against the counter, watching me move around like I had ants in my pants. Nervous energy.
 
 
“Mia, Mia. Baby, come here.”
 
 
I slowly walked into his open arms and he embraced me with a kiss on the forehead. “Chill, baby. Be still; you’re making me dizzy. Relax.”
 
 
Christian and I both looked at our octagon clock on the wall at the same time. We still had another fifteen minutes or so before they arrived. “Please, Mia, go sit down. There’s nothing left to do. Everything is perfect, baby.”
 
 
I followed Christian’s advice and had a seat at the far end of our love seat.
 
 
“Mia, your moms said not to pick up Lyric until after 2:00 tomorrow. They’re going to morning church service at Bald Rock.”
 
 
“Okay, baby,” I responded, slightly distracted. Mama loved to dress Lyric up like a doll-baby in frilly dresses, take her to church and show off her granddaughter.
 
 
By now, Christian was next to me on the love seat.
 
 
“Remember, now, if you feel uncomfortable we don’t have to go through with this.”
 
 
“Okay, Boo, I remember.” I smiled at him, “We can do this!”
 
 
Christian glanced at me out of the corner of his eye as I fiddled with the throw pillow on the sofa.
 
 
“Christian, you’re here; there’s nothing I fear, baby.”
 
 
Christian and I talked for a few more minutes about our summer vacation plans, and I actually felt the tension easing itself slowly away and found myself relaxing. Christian did that to me; he relaxed me, made me feel secure and comfortable wrapped in his enduring love.

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