Until My Heart Stops Beating (16 page)

              She didn’t know how much more she could take but she wasn’t about to lie down like a rug and make him think he put the big one on her. She had to show him she had tricks too. She pushed his head from in between her legs and with all the force she could muster she pushed him down on the bed. She massaged his member until it was stiff, standing as erect as a flag pole. His eyes widened at the sight of her wrapping her lips around him.

              “Awe shit!” He whispered.

              She licked up and down his shaft. She raised her head a little and began sucking on the tip of his penis like it was a banana laffy taffy. He hit the mattress with his fist thinking she was definitely keeping secrets. How could she? Yes, she had given him this treatment before but he could tell from what she was doing now she was holding back the last time she performed this act. He was losing his damn mind. She took more of him in her mouth and tightened her mouth around him sucking harder and increasing her speed. He grunted as his back arched and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He grunted again this time following up with a slight yell. He raised his head but she pushed him back down. She opened her eyes glancing up at him. His facial expression was priceless. She got back to the matter at hand. It was time for him to cum. She sucked even harder as she played with his balls. It felt so good Declan thought he was going to break down and cry. He couldn’t do that. He had to hold it together. Where the hell had she been all his life. He groaned again as he felt his body losing control. While holding on to the edge of the bed tight, he let out a loud guttural moan deep down in the back of his throat. She released him just in time letting his penis squirt creamy white liquid onto the bed. He pushed her down on her back lifting her legs on his shoulders. He delve deep inside her walls making love to her until she exploded all over him. He fell back onto the bed trying to catch his breath. He was depleted of all energy. He wanted to get up and take a shower but it couldn’t be done. He didn’t have the strength to move. He pulled her into his chest.

              “I love you my lady,’ he declared barely above a whisper.

              “I love you too babe.”  

              Those was the last words exchanged between the two of them before drifting off into a deep coma like sleep. 

~*~

              Half-awake, Makeba ran her hands over the other side of the bed. She felt nothing but empty space. She got up, took a quick shower and threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She slid her feet inside her slippers and made her way into the kitchen. To her surprise she had company and it wasn’t Declan.

              “Granny Whitaker!!”

              Slowly, she turned around with a
devilish grin on her countenance. “None other sweetie.”

              “Granny Whitaker, you can walk?’

              “Shush child. This is our little secret. Go set the table on the deck. I want to have breakfast
under the morning sun,” she
said smiling.

              “Yes ma’am.”

              Makeba took the dishes and some cutlery to set the table outside. She returned to the kitchen to get glasses, the orange juice and extra napkins. Granny came out on the deck with a plate of freshly baked biscuits, sausage, bacon, a plate with scrambled eggs and a serving bowl filled with cheese grits.

              Makeba was shocked when she saw the biscuits and the grits. “Granny, what you know about cheese grits?.”

      She guffawed. “I know a lot more than you know honey. I’m from the south. I know about cheese grits, fish and grits, homemade biscuits and gravy, fried corn bread and collard greens. Soul food is just another way of describing good food. It’s not about race. Its geography honey. We southern folks can whip up a darn good meal can’t we?”

              “You are something else.”

              “I know. Now sit down and eat.”

              Makeba took her seat still tickled by granny’s antics. Here she was sitting at the table in a regular chair and not her wheelchair. She wanted to question her about why she went to such lengths to fool her family but she wasn’t sure it was a good idea. She didn’t want to risk getting on Granny Whitaker’s bad side by prying into her affairs. Granny was an ally she would like to keep on her side.

              “Declan called me early this morning to ask if I’d like to keep you company. I told him it would be my honor.”

      “Oh Granny Whitaker,” she smiled.

      “I had Sam drop me off. Declan had a very important meeting to get to at the office. Since you were still sleeping when I arrived, I figured I might as well fix something good for us to eat.”

              “And good it is,” Makeba replied.

              Makeba continued to enjoy her meal as granny gave her a little history about the Whitakers. She told her that Declan’s father had died seven years ago from colon cancer and how difficult it was for Declan and his siblings to accept. She also said if she didn’t know any better, she’d thought it was a relief to Shelly when he died. She believed with all her heart that Shelly only married her son, Michael for financial security, implying that the Whitakers had always been well off.

              “So how are things between you and my grandson?”

              “It couldn’t be better?”

              “But?”

      “But what?”

              “There’s a but in there somewhere. I hear it in the tone of your voice. Something is wrong. What is it?”

              Again Makeba had to tell the dreadful story of how her engagement to Declan had deteriorated her relationship with her dad. Granny Whitaker cringed at the details of what had transpired between them. Yes, history was repeating itself and she hoped that it wouldn’t. She could empathize with Makeba because she had been there a few decades ago, but unlike her, Makeba and Declan’s relationship had a better success rate than she had all those years ago.

              She reached over the table taking Makeba’s hands. “You stay strong and stand your ground even against your father. I pray that he’ll see Declan as a man and not as a color and realize how much he truly loves his daughter and come to terms with it all. If he doesn’t, his bigotry will keep him from making some beautiful adult memories with you and any future grandchildren that comes along. I don’t think he’d want that. Pray on it child. He’ll come around. Just give it time.”

              “I hope so granny. I sure hope so,” she replied sadly.

              “So how does your mother feel?”

              “She couldn’t be happier. She really likes Declan.

              “Then there is hope.”

              Makeba smiled. “Yes.” She got up to clear the table. “No granny I’ll take care of it,” she said when she observed Granny Whitaker getting up to assist her.”

              “Are you sure?”

              “Absolutely,” she replied walking into the house with her hands full of soiled dishes.

              Makeba returned for more dishes. Granny Whitaker was standing, holding the railing while looking out over the water. “When you are finished, let’s go for a walk along the beach.”

              She wanted to ask granny if she sure she was up to it but instead she said, “I would love to.” Then she left again with her hands full of the last of the dirty dishes.

              Makeba had taken Granny Whitaker for a walk on the beach as promised. When they returned to the house she could tell granny was exhausted. She escorted her to one of the unoccupied bedrooms and assisted her with getting comfortable. Once granny was lying down she opened a light blanket over her.

              “Have a good nap.”

              “Thank you dear.” Granny watched
Makeba leave
the
room closing the door behind her.

              Makeba searched the refrigerator and the cabinets to see what she could whip up for dinner. She decided to make pan seared steak, twice baked potatoes and sautéed spinach with garlic butter and dinner rolls. As she prepared dinner she thought about the kind of wedding she wanted. She didn’t want a huge wedding but she didn’t want a particularly small one either.
She and Rasheeda had a lot of things to do when she got back to Newark, she thought
. She had also decided that her co-worker Marcella would be one of her bridesmaids.

~*~

              For the fourth day in a row, Makeba woke up to a half empty bed. This morning was no different. She was in a deep slumber when he got in and still asleep when he left in the morning. It troubled her that he hadn’t bothered to awaken her. Her purpose for being in Chicago was now in question. Although she’d speak to him throughout the day, it wasn’t enough. Loneliness was setting in.

              Easing out of bed then covering herself with her pink satin robe, she went into the other room to check on Granny Whitaker who was still sleeping peacefully. Turning on her heels, she gently closed the door heading to the kitchen to prepare breakfast thinking how wonderful it was that granny wanted to spend more time with her. When Sam called the previous night to inform them that he was on his way to pick her up, she told him Granny decided to stay and that was all right with Makeba. Afterwards, she enjoyed a good home cooked meal prepared by her new favorite person, Makeba. While they enjoyed their dinner, Granny Whitaker began to share stories of Declan and Sam from when they were children. Most were beautiful, cherished memories that would definitely be worth passing down to their children. They called it quits around 9:30 and went to their separate bedrooms.

              Breakfast was done and plated when granny stepped into the kitchen. They exchanged greetings as she took a seat ready to dig into her meal. Makeba smiled when she thought about how well she got around without a wheelchair. One day she would definitely ask her why she pretended to be wheelchair bound when around her family. Knowing Granny Whitaker, it was just to get under their skin.

              It was no secret she wasn’t too fond of Shelly Whitaker, her daughter-in-law. It was as if the words gold-digger was flashing across her forehead in neon lights. Their initial meeting did not go well. Granny was never too good at holding her tongue. Her son Michael was the owner of the One Stop Supermarket chain. Women, more often than not, saw dollar signs more than they saw him. What made Shelly a step above the rest was that she was good arm candy and she was willing to overlook his infidelities as long as she had access to his money. In a sense, she allowed him to have his cake and eat it too. Nothing was more important to her than status, money and power. With Michael, all three was attainable.

              After finding out he had colon cancer, Michael immediately began getting his affairs in order. He sold his supermarket chain and drew up a will to assure that his final bills were paid and his family was taken care of. Sam and Declan were teenagers when he passed. It was rough on the boys and Shelly, being who she was, did not behave like a grieving widow. Comfort to her boys came from others, and very little from her. Granny stepped up and
became everything they needed. At the reading of the will, it was evident that Michael was not ignorant to her reasons for marrying him. It was all about money. Thinking he had left everything to her, she walked into the attorney’s office with her nose in the air smirking as she passed granny. The look on her face was priceless when the lawyer stated that she would get to keep the family house, cars and a half million dollars. The rest of his money was split amongst granny and his children.

              Shelly announced at the end of the reading that she had planned to contest.
She argued that she was his wife and she certainly deserved a lot more than half a million dollars. The attorney informed her that she would forfeit everything left to her if she attempted to contest the will. Fuming, she stood up from her seat, glared at Granny Whitaker and stormed out. As the boys got older, Declan put his money to good use by starting his own investment firm. After years of providing financial assistance to others, he wanted more. He wanted to build something and he did. The Serenity Hotel will be his first of many hotels to come. Sam, on the other hand started his own massage therapy studio which
became such a huge success that he was able to open a second store on the other side of town.

     Sam picked up granny after breakfast freeing up Makeba’s afternoon. She
thought it would be an excellent idea to surprise Declan at the office. Maybe they could do lunch. After she showered and dressed, she took keys off the coffee table and hurried out the door on her way his office.

I TRUSTED YOU

              After taking a taxi back to the beach house, Makeba immediately began packing her belongings. Rushing, she
snatched up any and everything she thought belonged to her and stuffed it inside her suitcase. She had no intention of being there when he barged through the door. As she packed, she was on the phone crying telling Rasheeda what she walked in on when she attempted to surprise Declan at the office. Rasheeda, as usual, was livid and began yelling expletives and threatening to cuss him out if she ever saw him again. After a few minutes Makeba told her she needed to get off the phone and finish gathering her things before he got home.

              While collecting the last of her personals from the bathroom, she heard the front door slam. “Shit!” Closing her eyes and pondering her next move, she quietly approached the door and locked it. The sudden sound of the loud pounding on the door startled her. Declan had arrived sooner than she thought he would and was now banging on the door like he was Chicago PD.

              “Open the door Makeba.”

              She sat on the edge of the tub with no intention of responding to his request. Realizing she made no effort to open the door he resumed banging, this time with a little more force.

      “I will break it down if I have to. I swear I will. Now open this damn door.”

              Rushing to open it, she brushed past him with her personals in her hand and placed them in the suitcase. Declan approached the bed taking out things as fast as she put them in.

              “Stop it Declan!” 

              “You’re not going anywhere.”

              “Hell if I’m not. I’m getting out of here.”

              He took a deep breath and rolled his eyes. “You’re not leaving. Now sit down.”

              “NO!”

              He grabbed her by the arms aggressively and forced her down on the bed. She rubbed her burning wrist.

      “I’m sorry you walked in on that but you have it all wrong.”

              She snickered, “Let me get this straight. I walked in my fiancé’s office and caught him in a lip lock with a woman
he’s been
known to sleep with, and I have it all wrong?”

              “Yes. When you walked in I was telling her that I loved you and only you.”

              “Let me guess, she didn’t take it very well and you were merely trying to comfort her since she was in such an emotional state.”

              “That’s exactly how it went.”

              “Go to hell Declan.”

              She got up to walk away but he blocked her path, so she couldn’t move.

              “Sit down Makeba. You’re not leaving.”

              “I am leaving and when I do, I’m leaving you behind.”

              She took off her ring and handed it to him. He took a few steps back with his hands up by his chest, palms facing her.

              “You’re taking this a little too far now honey.”

              “I trusted you and you betrayed my trust.”

              “You never trusted me.”

              She couldn’t believe what he just said to her.

              “Really?”

              He frowned, “Really. You never trusted me. If you did you’d know there was a logical explanation for what happened.”

              “Ok. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. What happened?”

              Declan went into detail about what had transpired between him and Deena before her arrival.  He was honest, making sure he left nothing out but Makeba wasn’t satisfied. Something was wrong. What is he doing to make this woman think she still has a chance with him? Women don’t behave like this for nothing. The need to question him was prevalent. She knew asking certain questions would be like taking the pin out of a grenade.

              “When was the last time you had sex with her?”

              He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. That was one question he didn’t want to answer. Not honestly anyway but he knew there was no sense in beating around the bush. He didn’t want to lie to her. She was right. She trusted him and he betrayed her trust. Just because she didn’t know he was still sexing Deena didn’t mean it was ok. What was done in the dark had come to light. He had lost this battle on a technicality. Guilty by reason of omission. Standing in front of her, he felt like a liar and a cheat and fears like he’d never felt before overtook him.

              Makeba glared at him. Her palms were sweaty, a lump formed in her throat, her legs became weak and her stomach was doing somersaults. Her body was already reacting to an anticipated response to a question she had yet to
receive an answer to. Call it intuition if you will but something inside her knew the answer would blow her away.

              “I’m waiting Declan.”

              He closed his eyes then opened them as they filled with his own tears, knowing that his response could very well end their relationship. Reluctantly, he replied,               “Last week.”

              Covering her mouth with her hands, she bent over from the pain of his words that seemed to hit her right in the gut. With the desire to comfort her, he opened his arms but she pushed him away, standing up as she sobbed. Not once since they’ve started dating had she given another man a thought. All of her, everything to the core of her being she offered to him, only to be taken for granted. A broken heart was no longer a figure of speech. She literally felt like hers was crushed to pieces.

              Attempting to touch her, he stopped short when he met her glare. She needed to hit something hard. There was no one better deserving of her wrath than the other person in the room standing in front her. Raising her right hand, pulling it backwards then swiftly bringing it forward with all the force she could muster, she slapped him so hard his head jerked. Not getting the satisfaction she was looking for, she did it again and again. He stood there not moving a muscle, taking her hits. He was accepting the punishment he thought he deserved. When she was done, she walked around him, zipped up her suitcase and snatched it off the bed. Again he reached for her but the look she gave him was that of the devil. Never had he come close to meeting this side of her. Since Declan refused to accept the engagement ring, she gently placed it on the bed, turned on her heels and headed for the door.

              “Makeba please. Don’t leave me, please. Please!” He begged. “I’m sorry. I made a mistake baby.”

              She couldn’t bring herself to feel anything for him at that moment. Dealing with her own pain was almost unbearable. She was going back to Newark but she wouldn’t be going home.
There was no way she could face her father after this. She wouldn’t be able to stand the, “I told you so speech,” as he laughed in her face.

       Declan knew if he had let her go, there was the possibility of losing her forever and he couldn’t risk it. He was wrong, dead wrong. There was no question about it.  In a moment of weakness he caved in to Deena. Flashbacks of what happened infiltrated his mind. They were having an important meeting with some potential investors over dinner. After the meeting was over and his guests left, he excused himself from the table telling Deena he’d be right back. When he returned from the men’s room she was still sitting at the table as if leaving was the furthest thing from her mind. He grabbed his overcoat but she stopped him. She had asked if he could stay a little longer and that she took the liberty of ordering him another drink. He knew he should have declined and went home but being rude was not a part of his character. Taking his seat, he agreed
to one more drink then reminded her that the meeting had come to a conclusion and he needed to get going. After taking a few swigs Declan was feeling a little too woozy. He stood up and stumbled as the room spun. Deena hurried around to the other side of the table and helped him return to his seat. Something was off. He felt like he had a little too much to drink but how could that be? He only had two and a half. He was feeling so bad he couldn’t make it home.

              The next morning he woke up in the bed as Deena lay beside him with nothing between them. Not even space. He wanted to yell, scream but he couldn’t. His head ached like it was being used as a drum during a parade. Crawling out of bed, he headed to the shower praying this never got out. Standing under the showerhead as the water beat against his skin, he reassessed what had transpired after the meeting between the moment he left the table and the moment he returned. He recalled being perfectly fine until after he sipped from the drink Deena had bought for him. Suddenly, he realized, she put something in his drink. She had to. There was no other logical explanation for why he felt so intoxicated. She was out of hand. It was a sign then that he should have gotten rid of her.

              Quickly, he dressed and returned to the room. She pleaded with him not to leave but her words fell on deaf ears. He was so livid that he felt the need to wrap his hands around her neck and snap it. Never had he been so furious with her.
Had it not been for being so good at her job and the fact that she had been with the company for ten years, he would have cut her loose but loyalty was about to cost him and from the looks of things, it was going to cost him something that was too high a price to pay.

~*~

             
When her taxicab pulled up in front of the house, she descended the stairs. Knowing he had to make his move and quick, Declan rushed past her to the driver telling him his services were not
needed as he threw a twenty dollar bill inside the driver’s side window. The driver thanked him then drove off. The
rage brewing inside caused her to scream at him as she tried to walk away pulling her rolling luggage.
Declan grabbed hold of her bag, firmly snatching it from her hand.

              “Stay with me please.”

              “I can’t and I won’t.”

              He grabbed her around her waist with his free hand, “I can’t let you go.”

              Makeba struggled to get loose but she couldn’t. Trying not to fight with her, he dropped the luggage and carried her into the house. Once he got her inside she went into one of the bedrooms and slammed the door shut, locking it. He didn’t care. As long as she was in the house with him it didn’t matter one bit if she never came out of that room.

              Not long afterwards, he went back outside to retrieve the luggage. He knocked on the bedroom door to inform her that her bags was outside the room then proceeded to the living room and sat on the sofa. Removing his cell phone from his pocket, he called Ashley telling her to cancel his meetings for the rest of the week. She apologized again for not stopping Makeba from walking into
his office. Regretting how hard he came down on her, he apologized for his behavior and assured her she was not at fault. He hung up the phone and sat for what seemed like hours with his head in his hands wondering how the hell he was going to repair the bricks to his foundation and put them back together. The house he was trying to build with her had crumbled before the completion of the
groundwork.

              Three hours had passed. Declan went to the bedroom she occupied and stood outside the door knocking lightly but there was no answer. Putting his ear to the door, he could hear whimpering. The sounds of the woman he loved wailing like the women in the bible almost broke him down to his knees. She was distraught and it was his doing. He had hurt her bad. Again, he knocked on the door.

              “Go away,” he heard her say although her words were slightly muffled.

              “Makeba, if I have to spend the rest of my life making it up to you I will. I love you. I never meant to hurt you, ever. You’re my heart, my world, my everything. Please give me another chance. I’m not going to stand here and make up excuses for what I’ve done because that's not going to help my cause. But I know I was not myself when I slept with Deena. Someone put something in my drink. I’m sure of it. I know you don’t believe me but that’s the truth.”

              Silence.

              “Makeba, say something. Anything. Please.”

              Silence.

              He slid down to the floor and intended to stay there for as long as it took.

              She laid stretched out across the bed in disbelief. Why had she opened herself
up to him? She felt stupid, plain foolish for thinking he would be any different. It doesn’t matter how handsome he was or what nationality he was, a man is still a man, human, imperfect. She continued to sob until there was no tears left. If only she had moved a little faster, by now she would be on a last minute flight to Newark, New Jersey. Hearing him pleading with her on the other side of the door did nothing to help his cause. He hurt her bad, and nothing could soothe her pain, not even meds. The incident was rough on her and she damn sure wasn’t going to make it an easy ride for him. It wasn’t long before she was able to escape the emotional turmoil she was experiencing by drifting off into a deep sleep.