The Secrets of Silk (31 page)

“You have to move your hips like this.” Silk demonstrated by swiveling her hips and when Myron made a clumsy effort to mimic her moves, Dallas and Bruce giggled behind their hands.

“I don't wanna dance!” Myron stomped back over to the sofa with his lips poked out. Silk made a mental note to pinch Myron when she got him alone. He was showing off in front of his Daddy. If Buddy wasn't home, Myron wouldn't have dreamed of storming off and refusing to do as he was told.

“I'll dance with you, M'dear,” Bruce volunteered.

“Come on and join me, handsome,” Silk said gaily. The song ended and the next record dropped down on the turntable. “Tossin' and Turnin' ” by Bobby Lewis began playing and Silk went from doing the Twist to doing the Pony, a more complicated dance that required bouncy footwork and a great exertion of energy.

Bruce tried to get the steps right, but like his brother, he had two left feet. Silk pulled Bruce in her arms and said, “That's okay, sweetheart. Let's slow drag; it's much easier.”

Buddy smiled approving at his pretty wife and young son as they slow-danced to a fast-tempo song. Eventually, Silk had the whole family on the floor while she taught them how to do the Mashed Potatoes, another dance that required at least a modicum rhythm. After Buddy and his children gave up on getting the hang of popular dances, Silk suggested that Dallas put on her ballet outfit and perform the solo she'd been rehearsing for her recital that was scheduled for the end of the summer.

Silk changed records and put on the soundtrack to the movie,
Exodus,
an LP that Dallas' ballet teacher had instructed Silk to purchase so that Dallas could practice her solo at home. Dallas changed into a pink tutu and tights and danced to the theme song by Henry Mancini.

With pointed toes, Dallas waved her arms daintily in the air. She twirled, leapt, and pirouetted to the delight of the family. At the conclusion of her performance, she curtsied, and everyone applauded.

“That's my little ballerina,” Buddy exclaimed while clapping enthusiastically. “Those dance lessons are really paying off.” Buddy bent down and kissed Dallas on her forehead.

“All right, everyone go change into your pajamas,” Silk said.

“Aw, we're not ready to go to bed. It's too early,” Myron complained. Silk couldn't wait to get Myron off by himself so that she could pinch him twice.

“I didn't say you had to go to bed.” Silk smiled pleasantly. “I want you to get your bedclothes on and come back down and finish watching TV. Hurry up because
The Donna Reed Show
is about to come on. But after Donna Reed and
The Real McCoys
goes off, y'all have to go to bed.”

“But it's summertime, and during the summer, Mommy always let us stay up late and watch
My Three Sons,”
Myron said in protest.

“Sometimes, she let us stay up real late and watch
The Untouchables,”
Bruce chimed in.

Silk was fuming mad at the boys for bringing up their dead mother. She didn't give a damn what that bitch had allowed them to do. But she plastered on a smile, and gazed at Buddy. “Is it okay if the kids stay up past ten o'clock, so they can watch
The Untouchables?”

“Sure, if it's okay with you.”

“I think it'll be all right. Just this once.”

Dallas and her brothers smiled with gratitude.

“Buddy, can you make some popcorn for the kids while I help them get into their pajamas?” Silk asked, taking on the demeanor and attitude of the TV mothers she was emulating to impress Buddy.

“Yippee, we're getting popcorn!” Myron exclaimed as he and Bruce bounded up the stairs.

Silk trailed them, holding Dallas' hand. Her pleasant expression showed no signs of the aggravation she felt inside. In Dallas' bedroom, she opened drawers and laid out a tangerine babydoll pajama set. “Take off your dance outfit and put this on while I check on the boys.”

When Silk entered the boys' room, they were stripped down to their white briefs. Feeling modest, both brothers tried to conceal themselves, hiding behind furniture as they stepped into their pajamas.

“Y'all ain't got nothing I ain't seen before,” she said dismissively, picking up their discarded pants from the floor. “Go in the bathroom and wash your face and hands, and brush your teeth.”

When the boys left the bedroom, Silk stuck a book of matches in the pocket of Myron's pants. Looking distressed, she took the pants down to the kitchen where Buddy stood at the stove, popping popcorn in a large pot.

“You need to see something,” Silk said solemnly. She handed Buddy Myron's pants. “Look inside the pocket.”

Buddy checked the pocket and pulled out the book of matches and gazed at Silk questioningly. “What's Myron doing with matches?”

“This is the second time I've found them in his pocket. I caught him lighting a bunch of newspapers in the backyard last week. He lied through his teeth and told me he didn't know how the fire got
started.” Silk shook her head. “I hate to give you such bad news, but I think we have a little fire starter on our hands. I didn't want to worry you, with all you've been through, but if you don't nip it in the bud right now, Myron could be headed for a juvenile home.”

Buddy stepped away from the stove, sighed, and gripped his forehead.

“He needs a whipping, Buddy. You're gonna have to teach that boy a lesson—for his own good.”

Buddy nodded grimly.

“I'll go get Dallas and Bruce and bring them downstairs.” She climbed the stairs swiftly. “Dallas and Bruce, come on downstairs with me. You stay in your room, Myron. You're in big trouble with your daddy.”

“In trouble for what?” Myron asked with fear in his eyes.

“You'll find out.” Silk escorted the two younger children down the stairs.

Buddy unbuckled his leather belt and pulled it off. Carrying Myron's pants, Buddy slowly ascended the stairs.

While Silk filled a large bowl with popcorn, Myron could be heard vehemently denying any knowledge of how the matches ended up in his pocket. The next sounds Silk and the children heard were Myron's wails each time the leather belt cut across his skin.

Carrying the bowl of popcorn, Silk ushered Bruce and Dallas into the living room to catch the last fifteen minutes of
The Donna
Reed Show.

•  •  •

In bed, Buddy was concerned about the kids hearing the squealing mattress springs, but Silk was so aroused by the fact that she had conned Buddy into beating Myron, she convinced him to disregard the sounds.

“We're married and it ain't nobody's business how much noise we make in our bedroom. The kids are sound asleep, so stop worrying.” Silk was tickled that Buddy was so love-struck, he was willing to believe any lie that came out of her mouth.

The sense of power she felt made her horny. She pushed Buddy on his back and straddled him. Reaching for his manhood, she hissed, “Fuck me, goddammit. Don't you know how hot I am for you?”

“How hot are you, sugar?”

“It feels like a furnace is burning inside me, and only you can cool me down.” She grinded on his shaft, but wouldn't let him insert it.

“Come on, sugar, let me get in there,” Buddy pleaded.

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“I don't think you really want me.”

“I want you more than I ever wanted anyone.”

“It don't seem that way.”

“How can you say that? I treat you like a queen.”

“Sometimes, you do. But you don't always take care of my needs in the bedroom.”

Buddy propped himself up on an elbow and squinted at Silk in disbelief. “I gave it to you for two or three hours last Saturday.”

“I know you did, Buddy, but a delicate girl like me don't always want to be pounded like a piece of meat.”

“I'm sorry, sugar. I thought you liked it like that.”

“Don't get me wrong, you're real good in bed, but it would be nice if you spent a little more time getting me in the mood. It's been a long time since you took a trip downtown, I'm starting to get the impression that you don't like putting your tongue inside my poontang.”

“I, uh, I don't mind doing that every now and then. But it's not something that I'm used to doing. You're the first woman I ever put my mouth on…down there.”

Buddy looked and sounded embarrassed by the topic of oral sex, and Silk's expression turned sour.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?”

Silk shrugged. “When I fell in love with you, I gave you my all. I never held anything back from you, Buddy. But if you can't do the same, then it makes me wonder what kind of marriage we have.”

“We have a beautiful marriage, and I don't want you to ever doubt my love.”

“Hmph. You can't prove that by me,” Silk said, sulking. “Does my poontang stink? Does it taste nasty or something?”

“No, angel. Everything about you is perfect.”

“The halfhearted way you go down on me makes me feel self-conscious about myself.”

“Be patient with me, sugar. I'll get better at it—I promise.”

“Practice makes perfect,” Silk said, sliding off Buddy. Lying on her back, she opened her legs and waggled her finger.

Responding to her signal, Buddy hovered over Silk's vagina and moistened his lips.

“I want you to pretend like you're French kissing my mouth. Use your tongue and explore. Take your time and search up and down—search everywhere. And then, when you get me all gushy and worked up, I want you to pucker up and suck all the cream out of me. Can you do that for me, Buddy?”

“Yeah, sugar. I can do that. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you satisfied.”

Wearing a soft smile, Silk closed her eyes while Buddy catered to her desires.

H
aving been unattended since Ernestine's death, the greenery and flowers in the backyard had turned into a jungle, attracting all sorts of insects. The children each had a jar filled with leaves and dandelions in one hand and held the lid of the jar in the other as they crept up on bumblebees, attempting to capture them. Silk had no idea what the silly kids planned on doing with the bees, but they damn sure weren't going to bring them in the house.

“Y'all better be careful. I don't feel like driving anyone to the hospital with a bunch of bee stings,” Silk called out from the glider where she was relaxing and drinking lemonade while Sharita scrubbed the kitchen floor.

The children were so absorbed in their activity, they didn't bother to respond. Silk rested her head on the back of the glider, closing her eyes. As she ruminated about ways to get her hands on Buddy's accidental death insurance policy, Sharita appeared at the back door and noisily swung the screen door open.

“What's your problem, girl? Can't you see I'm resting my eyes? Why you gotta be so loud all the time?”

“Excuse me. I came out to tell you that somebody's at the front door asking for you.”

Silk scowled at Sharita. “I ain't buying nothing. And I don't want
a pile of pamphlets from any Jehovah's Witness, so whoever it is, tell 'em to scram.”

“It's not a salesman or a Jehovah's Witness.”

“Well, who is it, then?”

“It's the numbers man—Mr. Sweet Daddy,” Sharita announced, moon-eyed with infatuation.

Stunned, Silk nearly fell off the glider. “Sweet Daddy's at the front door?”

“Uh-huh.”

Silk glanced over at the kids, who were still having fun catching bees. “Listen, Sharita. I need you to sit out here and keep an eye on the kids while I go play my numbers with Sweet Daddy.” She whispered conspiratorially, “Between you and me, Buddy don't approve of gambling, so don't you dare mention to anybody that Sweet Daddy stopped by to see me.”

“I won't say anything,” Sharita assured her.

“If you value your job, you'd better keep your mouth shut.”

“I will.”

“And don't let the kids in the house for any reason.”

“No, ma'am, I won't.”

Silk stood up and Sharita took her place on the glider. “Can I drink the rest of your lemonade, Miss Silk?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Silk said irritably. Sharita was greedy as all get-out. She was always asking for something to eat or drink. The big oaf of a girl got on Silk's last nerve.

Smoothing down her hair that tended to curl at the edges in humid weather, Silk made her way into the house. She glanced at her reflection in the dining room mirror, and noticed that her complexion seemed a little flushed.

The front door was open and she could see Tate standing on the
porch. Silk's heart pounded in her chest. Even from a distance, Tate oozed sex appeal. Always dressed to the nines, he looked extra fine today. He had on a navy-blue shirt and powder-blue pants. The jewelry around his neck, wrist, and fingers, sparkled in the sunlight. Woo-wee, that man could dress like nobody's business.