“Wetter” by Sammie played in the background as Saint lit two incense sticks and placed them by the sliding patio door, on a nearby table. He walked into the kitchen, his navy blue Nike flip flops clacking against the shiny floor as he opened the stainless steel refrigerator door and grabbed a bottle of chilled white wine. He set two glasses on the counter, climbed to the master bedroom and returned to the pool area holding a big black gift box wrapped with a gold ribbon.
Saint looked around to make sure everything was exactly how he wanted it. White flower petals floated on the water in a dance choreographed by nature.
One of two white towels laid out on the loungers had a purple rose on it. The dim light reflected off the pool, weaving a magic web to match that created by the stars in the night sky. He had replaced the bright outdoor bug repellant light with a soft blue one.
After bringing out the large platter of fruit he had prepared earlier to the outside table and covered it with a clear dome lid, he surveyed the scene.
“Did I forget anything?” he asked himself as he rubbed his chin. “Oh, yeah.”
He walked into his office, removed an envelope from his desk and returned to the backyard. He put it on the table…
* * *
I’m going over there; I have to go over there right now. I didn’t want to bother him at the funeral, but I need to get out of this hell I'm in…
She couldn't go on like this…she had to tell him how she felt. The thought of her sons living for so long without a father broke her heart all over again. All because she was too obstinate to listen to her heart over her mind.
She rubbed her forehead with a clammy palm. Where was he? What was he doing? She had to talk to him now, to apologize and fix her marriage.
She'd crawl on a bed of rusty nails just to have one hour with him…one hour to make things right.
Biting on her thumbnail, she stood and paced the bedroom, getting her thoughts together. What if she didn't find the right words to say? Her nerves threatened a mutiny. Desperate, she sat back down on the bed, grabbed her purse, making sure her car keys were inside, then reached for her phone to call her mother. Before she could dial, her cell phone rang…
* * *
From his swim trunks pocket, Saint pulled out his cell phone. He clicked to Xenia’s photo and studied it, traced her lips with his eyes, searched her soul, and kissed her neck with his mind and heart. He paced slowly, back and forth, finding himself in the grip of uncertainty, until finally he dialed her number.
“Hello,” Xenia said warmly. The only sound he heard in the background was the radio playing golden oldies at a low volume. His boys must be out with Xenia’s mother.
“Hello, Xenia.”
“Saint, I’m sorry I was unable to have a conversation with you after James passed. I kept trying to call but I knew you were upset so I figured you needed a little time, is all. Please don’t think I didn’t care, I did…I do. I was at the funeral service with the boys but I made sure we didn’t bother you. I’m sorry for your…for
our
loss, Saint.” She paused. “Hey, I’m glad you called. I’ve been trying to reach you again on the phone and I…”
“I’ve had it turned off so I could concentrate on some things. And, I knew you were at the funeral, Xenia. I always know when you’re close by.” He paused. “I know that you want me to just accept that it’s over between us, but I wanted to invite – ”
“Saint, I…”
“Let me finish, please. I know this is kind of short notice, and if you can’t, I understand, but would you mind asking your mother if she can watch Hassani and Dakarai for a little while tonight, so you can stop by and we can talk? As I told you, I did receive the divorce papers, and I will sign them, Xenia. I won’t drag this out much longer but I want to talk to you first, if that’s OK? Can you do that?” Saint asked as he slipped a hand in his pocket.
“Um, yeah. Actually, she already has them. They’re at the store together. Just let me throw on some clothes real quick. I’ll call her and be over there as soon as I can.
I’ll see you soon,” he said and hung up the phone.
* * *
Xenia
’s heart pounded with nervousness as she rose from the bed and went through the stuffed closet for something appealing to wear.
She raked the hung clothing with her fingertips and settled upon a purple halter top with sequins at the top and stark white capri pants. Saint always loved her in white because of the contrast with her skin.
She sat at her mother’s bedroom vanity and applied her make-up. Pinning her curls back, she attached a white flower to the side of her soft hair. Flowers and barrettes in her hair were also things Saint favored, she reminded herself. She picked up her cell phone and headed out to her car.
“Mama,” she said urgently, her white leather Coach purse swinging wildly over her arm. She opened her car door and jumped inside.
“Saint just called me and…” Xenia paused as she heard her mother’s groceries being rung up on the conveyer belt.
“Go on, Saint called you and what? Girl you rang up them tomatoes twice!” she shouted.
“No ma’am, it’s just once. This is the price per pound,” Xenia imagined the timid voice to be the cashier’s, probably high school age.
“Well then y’all fourteen karat gold crazy! I ain’t payin’ that for two damn tomatoes! Take it off then!”
Xenia
sighed and closed her eyes. “Mama, can you hear me?” she said impatiently.
“Yeah, these people in here tryin' to charge me almost two dollars per tomato! Is there gold in that son of a bitch? They got me messed up, take that shit off then!” Pam hollered. “I can grow that shit for practically free in my backyard! Y’all wanna charge an arm and a leg like tomatoes are hard to come by, like they are at a premium or up for auction somewhere! Are tomatoes the new Hope Diamond? This is highway robbery!”
“Mama! Would you stop about the tomatoes for a second? I’m going over Saint’s! Can you watch the kids a while longer?” Xenia said in exasperation as she pulled out of the driveway.
“You ain’t gotta yell! ‘Bout blew my damn eardrum off! Yes, I can watch them. You shoulda been had your ass ova there! I asked you what the hold up was and you had excuse after excuse!” Pam chastised. “Tellin’ me he ain’t pickin’ up the phone and won’t talk to you and shit and anyway, it ain’t Saint’s house, Xenia – it’s both y’all's house. Stay all night, please and give him some because you’re entirely too wound up and I pray to tha Lord above that you don’t stay with me after tonight. I need your ass outta my house. I want to walk around in my bra and panties again and I can’t do that with Hassani up under me twenty-four-seven!”
Xenia
winced at her mother’s blunt words and hung up the phone. She grabbed the steering wheel and anxiously drove to the place she once called home and thought she’d live in forever.
* * *
Saint looked at the clock. “Ten on the dot,” he said aloud as he made his way to the front door, his long legs moving in confident strides.
He opened the door without hesitation, and instantly locked eyes with Xenia. The rhythm of “I’d Rather Be with You” by Bootsy Collins bounced through the hallway.
She smiled at Saint as he moved out of the way to let her inside. Cinnamon, lavender and citrus scents permeated the foyer.
“Thank you for coming.” Saint closed the door and let her walk ahead. The patio door was slightly ajar. He opened it further so she could see the lit candles and burning incense.
“Have a seat, please.”
Xenia
sat down on the hand crafted loveseat she had picked out herself. It was from South Africa and the wood was so shiny, you could see your reflection in it. The cushions were a warm, soft yellow and seemed to mold to every contour of the human body. Saint caught her lick her lips when her gaze fell to his exposed chest.
Xenia
leaned forward, baring more of her full breasts to his view. The tight, purple halter top fit snugly and fueled his hunger. The smattering of silver glitter only made it worse. How could he stop himself from ravaging his wife right now?
Her toenails were freshly painted, a shiny shade of jade with an elaborate zebra stripe design done in silver and black overlay. Saint liked it when she had designs on her toenails. He thought it was cute, especially when he’d suck her toes, causing her to giggle in delight.
Saint sat a safe distance from her. He looked at the flower in her hair, admiring it, before he took out a piece of paper from his pocket. He cleared his throat.
“Xenia, I wrote something I’d like to recite to you. I might mess up thought, so please bear with me.” Saint leaned back on the couch then decided to sit up instead. “You know I’m not a poet. You know this, but I tried. I was having a hard time telling you how I felt for some reason, I guess because I feel like nothing I say may change anything anymore so the words come out wrong and sometimes not at all. When I put a pen to paper though, everything I felt for you came out the way I wanted it to. Do you mind if I read this, I mean, recite this to you?” Saint unfolded the paper and put it off to the side in case he lost his train of thought.
Xenia
bit her lip and shook her head. “Go ahead.”
Saint cleared his throat.
“Every morning I wake up after less than an hour of sleep.
I look over and I don’t see my sweetness lying next to me.
Instead, there’s a crushed pillow, willows of despair and dare I compare,
But all that remains is cruelty, so heartless and unfair.