Until My Heart Stops Beating (12 page)

              Gently, he pushed her toward the bed, bent her over, then entered her once again. His eyes rolled to the back of his head. She felt so good, too good. She was no longer a choice, she had become a habit, an addiction that was spiraling out of control.

              Makeba grabbed a fistful of covers squeezing them tight. What was he doing to her? He increased his speed putting his back into it. She cried out in pleasure. Neither of them had travelled to such heights before, not this high, not this place. They stumbled upon uncharted territory. There was no way to describe it. In the simplest terms, it was more than amazing.

      He gripped her around the waist tighter as she buried her face in the mattress. It was the only thing she could do to stifle her screams. If she were to release them into the atmosphere surely the police would be summoned to their room by a concerned caller. Declan moved harder, going deeper and her actions met his. Together they exploded. Totally spent,  Makeba released her hold of the blankets and was unable to move. She laid in the same position trying to bring her heart rate down to normal and steady her breathing pattern. Declan was so depleted of energy that he collapsed on top of her.

They were silently wondering was there anything better than what they had just experienced together.

I Won’t Be There

             
Makeba had an hour before she’d have to board her flight. Declan was sitting beside her. Not many words were exchanged between them since they left the hotel. Declan’s words echoed in her ear over and over again. Some may think that she was making too much of an issue out of the discussion they had earlier but not her. To her, independence was important. Since she was a young girl, she was taught the importance of that characteristic. If she caved in to his demands, what else will he try to change about her?

              “Is something wrong?”

              Breaking from her deep thoughts she glanced at him. “No.”

              He grabbed her hand. “I know-“

             
His phone rang before he could finish his sentence. He looked at the screen. It was Granny Whitaker. Declan raised an eyebrow, puzzled as to why she would be calling him. Silently, he prayed there was nothing wrong and she was calling to say hello. He answered the call right before it went to voicemail. All he said was hello before handing the phone to Makeba.

      “Here, it’s granny. She wants to speak with you.”

             
She was surprised, but happy. ‘Hello.”

              Imagine my surprise when I found out you were returning home today. They don’t do goodbyes where you come from?”

              A slight smile spread across her lips. “Oh Granny Whitaker I am so sorry.”

             
“Don’t be sorry dear, just don’t do it again. I wanted to bid you farewell and I’m hoping you took what I’ve shared with you into consideration. Safe travels
my dear. Hope to see you again.”

              “You will.”

             
“I think so. Goodbye child.”

              “Goodbye Granny Whitaker.”

              Makeba ended the call then handed the phone back to Declan.

              “Why are you smiling?” He asked curiously.

              “She is such a sweetheart.”

              He chuckled. “Yes she is. She adores you.”

              “Yea, I know and the feeling is mutual.”

              The boarding of her flight was announced over the intercom. She picked up her purse and grabbed her rolling bag.

              Sadness overcame Declan. “I’m missing you already.”

              “Me too,” she replied as she rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him. It was as if it was never ending. Neither wanted to let go of the other but they had to. Her flight was leaving and she couldn’t miss it. She had to return to work in the morning. Reluctantly, they pulled back putting space between them.

      “I love you.”

      She gazed at him as if
he was the last man standing.

      “Oh yea,” she asked.

      “Yea.”

      “For how long?”

      He put his hand over his heart. “Until my heart stops beating.”

~*~

              The next day was business as usual. It was Monday, a slow day which she didn’t mind at all. The way she was feeling she wouldn’t have cared if she had one customer all day. Although her visit to Chicago ended on a good note, she couldn’t get the conversation she had with Declan the previous day out of her mind. She needed to talk to someone and the only person available at the moment
was Rasheeda.

              Makeba gave Rasheeda an edited rundown of what had happened over the weekend. Upon hearing about how her less than convivial reception at the Whitaker’s house, Rasheeda became incensed and
belligerent, speaking ill of Declan because of the treatment Makeba received. All the yelling and cussing was giving Makeba a headache. It also angered her. She felt that it was alright for her to make negative remarks about Declan, but, hell if she would allow anyone else to do so, she earned the right since she was in a relationship with him
but she wasn’t going to sit there and allow anyone else to do it, no matter who they
were. She appreciated
Rasheeda’s concern
but she
didn’t confide in her to obtain criticism about Declan. She was hoping for once her friend wouldn't act like a woman scorned, and offer sound advice for a change. That didn’t happen. Rasheeda still harbored angry feelings for men. She didn’t have great relationships and according to her all men were good for was a quick fix when in need and a bankroll. To her they weren’t worth anything more than that.

      She shook her head then excused herself from the table. Her break was over anyway. She had enough on her mind without Rasheeda’s added negativity. Her issue with Declan had very little to do with his family but a lot to do with the work situation. On second thought, that wasn’t the whole truth. His family’s treatment of her had a great deal to do with it. It only added to her frustration. How could she marry this man and be a part of his family when they didn’t like her; not because she had done anything wrong but because she had too much melanin in her skin.  She thought about taking her concerns to her parents but her relationship with her dad was already strained and she had not yet told them that she was getting married.

      Over the next couple of days Makeba’s concerns grew less about Declan and more about how she was going to break the news to her parents. Her conversations with Declan were getting more and more intense. The longer she waited
to tell her parents about her impending marriage the more disappointed he became with her.

      She went to her room, sat on the edge of the bed then her phone rang. It was Declan. A smile spread across her lips as she answered.

  
“Hello.”

      “Hello honey. How was your day?”

      “Mine was fine. How was yours?’

      “My day hasn’t been good at all.”

      She grew concerned. “What’s wrong?”

      “I’m missing you something terrible.”

      “Ditto.”

       There was something different in her
voice. No matter how cheerful she tried to sound she couldn’t mask the sadness. He felt it. For a few seconds it was silence between them. She dreaded the question she knew
he would soon ask and silently prayed that this would be one day that he wouldn’t ask it. At the same time he fought the urge to question her knowing what her response would be and he wasn’t going to be happy about it.

      Unable to hold out any longer he asked, “Did you tell your parents yet?”

      She removed the phone from her ear, lowered her head and took a deep breath. She exhaled slowly.
I knew it was too good to be true, she thought.
She returned the phone to her ear.

              “No, not yet.”

              He sighed. He was upset. There was no reason for her not to have informed them by now. What was she waiting for? Was she ashamed of him? Was she afraid of her father’s reaction to the news? Could it be possible she only accepted his proposal because she didn’t want to hurt his feelings and not because she wanted to be his wife? All sorts of scenarios were going through his mind.

              “It’s a little complicated right now,” she added breaking the silence.

              She knew he was upset. His
silence was evidence of that.

              “I’m a complication now?”

              “No, I did not say that.”

              “So what are you saying?” he snapped.

              “Don’t yell at me,” she retorted.

              “Why the big secret? Why is it so difficult for you to tell your daddy you are getting married?”

              “It’s complicated Declan,” she yelled. I will tell him when the time is right. I promise.”

              “I don’t believe you.”

              “Please, not today. Let’s not argue about this. Please.”

              “Who’s arguing? I’m merely trying to figure out why my damn fiancé has an issue telling her parents something that’s supposed to be good news. I had no problem telling my family.’

              “I bet that went over well,” she said sarcastically.

              “I don’t give a damn whether they accept you or not. You’re not marrying them, you’re marrying me. I told them as a courtesy not because I was seeking approval. I can live without that. Can you?”

              “Can I what?”

              “Can you stand up to your daddy and
tell him you’re going to be my wife or are you a puppet on a string that only talks and moves at his control and in ways that are pleasing
to him only?”

              “How dare you.”

              “Answer this question for me
Makeba.”

              “Ask.”

             
“Why did you accept my proposal?”

             
“Because I love you and I want to be your wife.”

              “Then prove it.”

              She let out an exasperated breath. “I will tell my parents we’re getting married Declan.

              “When hell freezes over!”

              Makeba jumped dropping the phone on the floor as she glanced in the doorway. “Daddy.”

              He entered her room. “You are not going to marry him.”

              “I am dad.”

             
He shook his head. “What’s the matter, there weren’t any good black men available?’

              “There are plenty, but the man I love happens to be white.”

              He approached her gripping her shoulders. “Do you have any idea the problems you’ll encounter? People aren’t as readily acceptable to interracial marriages as you may think.”

              Hearing his words was like ‘déjà vu’. Declan had echoed those same words in Chicago.

              “I know dad but I don’t care about them, I care about you. It would mean the world to me if I had your blessing daddy,” she said as her eyes watered.

              He took a few steps
back shaking his head. “I can’t.” He turned on his heels and walked towards the door.

              “Daddy, please,” she cried. “I need you to be happy for me. I couldn’t imagine walking down the aisle without you.”

              His eyes were red and filled with tears. “Then don’t.’

              “But I love him.”

              “And I love you,” he yelled. “I don’t
approve of this now and I never will. If you go through with this foolishness don’t expect me to be there.”

              “Don’t you want me to be happy?

              “That’s just it. You won’t be Makeba. There will be places you won’t be able to go even in this day and age, there will be people that will say harsh things to you, there will be some who will be so against your relationship that they’ll try to hurt you and then there’s Mr. Declan himself.
How long will it be before he gets angry enough to call you a nigger, or a black bitch?”

             
“
He wouldn’t do that. He loves me.”

              “Does he? Or is it the idea of you he loves so much?”

              “I never thought of you as a racist. You have
Caucasian friends.”

              “But none of them are trying to marry my damn daughter. I’m not racist. Call it personal preference. I just think they should marry their own,” he stated as a matter of fact and walked out.

              “Daddy! Daddy!” she cried but her tears were in vain. He never once looked back.

              Makeba was appalled and deeply hurt by her father’s response to the news of her and Declan’s engagement. In her mind he was no different from Shelly Whitaker. She lay on her bed in a fetal position bawling, unbeknownst to her that Declan was still on the line listening to the verbal exchange that had taken place between her and her father a few seconds ago.

~*~

              Declan felt awful. Makeba was hurting and he was too far away to comfort her but that was about to change. He called Ashley, his secretary of seven years and told her to reschedule his last meeting for the day and book him a flight to Newark. A few minutes later Ashley barged into his office to inform him that everything was taken care of. Soon after, he called Makeba. She still sounded upset. He informed her that he was catching a flight to Newark and would be there in a couple of hours. He also informed her that there will be a room booked for them under Mr. And Mrs. Whitaker at the Marriott on Broad Street
downtown Newark. She told him she would meet him there. He ended the call, gathered his belongings and left, kissing Ashley on the cheek on his way out.