Part 10 (1/2)

As we ate our meals, there was more conversation, mostly from Brice.

”How's your food?” he asked.

”It's okay,” I said without looking up at him.

”Just okay? See, you should have ordered what I told you to.” I did look up at him after that comment. Brice was smiling.

At one point, I had gotten salad dressing on the side of my face, above my mouth. Brice leaned over and started to wipe it off with his fingers, then proceeded to lick it off.

”No, I got it,” I shouted, a little too loudly. I quickly picked up the nearest napkin. His touch was bringing back too many memories.

”Here, let me get it. You still don't have it all.”

”Brice, stop, I'll do it!”

Brice reclined back in his seat and looked at me with raised eyebrows. ”Mia, I thought you were more comfortable and relaxed with me by now. I don't bite, baby. A man can change, you know. Ask my wife. Ask Kree. I touch her with love.”

”Brice, it's not even like that. Just don't-”

”Oh, so you are comfortable with me? Then why can't you even look me in the eyes when you speak to me? Why is it that every time I'm close to you, you flinch? You think I haven't noticed that? At one point, I knew you better than you knew yourself. Knew you like I know the back of my hand. Why is it that a simple act of wiping food from your mouth makes you freak out? Explain that.”

”Why does it matter how I feel about you? It doesn't matter. We are history. End of story. It ended the last time you beat the s.h.i.+t out of me. Remember? Or how soon we forget.” I felt my temper rising.

Brice leaned forward in his seat. ”I want to make it up to you. I know I hurt you, Mia, and I'm terribly sorry.”

”You owe me nothing. You don't have to make anything up to me either. I'm happy with my life the way it is. Christian makes my heart sing-something you were unable to do. I love Christian with all my heart and soul.”

”Touche. I know that, and I'm truly happy for you and Christian. He's a good man.”

”I know.”

Brice nodded his head in amus.e.m.e.nt, gulped down the last of his beer and signaled the waiter for another.

”Mia, I know you said, with much pa.s.sion, that you didn't miss me, but I believe you did.” Brice looked me over with an arrogant expression and said, ”Yeah, I know you did.”

”Think whatever you want, Brice; that's your prerogative,” I stated nonchalantly.

”Do you want to know how I know?” he boldly asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. ”I'm sure you will enlighten me.”

”I thought about you a lot over the years, what we had. How good we were together.”

”Ummph.”

”No, hear me out, Mia. Of course, I couldn't say all this the other evening, but I've missed you. I miss touching your spot and feeling you cream from my touch, from just my hand. I miss feeling and seeing your nipples swell and respond to my tongue and mouth. I miss your warmth when I touched you between your spread legs, and I miss hearing you call out my name so softly like you used to do in the throes of pa.s.sion. 'Brice, oh, Brice. Oh, baby.' Remember that? Just knowing I was the one giving you all that pleasure . . . Your eyes would glaze over, your legs would start trembling, and I'd know you were there . . . Yes, I miss all that. You were so giving.”

I had heard enough! ”Brice, I'm outta here. You are a freaking piece of work! You claim to be Christian's friend, but you are such a lying f.u.c.ker. The nerve of you. I don't want to hear this s.h.i.+t! What is all this BS you're proclaiming? What about Christian? Talk about all the times you beat me down, talk about my black eyes, my bruises, my broken wrist-remember that. Well, I can't forget. Talk about that! Yeah, talk about that s.h.i.+t!” I said in a low, menacing voice between clenched teeth. I stood up from the table, ready to book.

”Mia, calm the f.u.c.k down! You didn't let me finish,” he demanded, roughly grabbing my arm. ”See, you are still running from me. Sit down, Mia! Please. As I was saying, I know I did you wrong, very wrong. I'm not proud about that time in my life. You were my woman and I hurt you. Badly. Believe me, I'm happy that you're happy. And I'm very happy with Kree. She's the woman I always needed in my life. Kree knows how to please me.”

Brice left the and you didn't part hanging in the air, unspoken.

I sat there with a frown on my face and stared at him. I rubbed and ma.s.saged my wrist where he had grabbed it. I'd probably have a small bruise.

Shortly afterward lunch ended, and Brice insisted on paying the bill. He refused to take my money. After walking me safely to my car, which he insisted on doing, Brice gently kissed me on my left cheek, right above my lips, before I had the chance to object, and thanked me for having lunch with him. He told me to tell Christian h.e.l.lo and that he would call him soon. But I would never mention this lunch with Brice to Christian.

As I watched him walk away, so arrogant, confident and determined, I realized I was excited. Dampness. Wetness. Throbbing. My nipples, straining against my top, were hard as rocks underneath my halter top. d.a.m.n. My one weakness had just walked off into the sunset. Trouble had reentered my life. He had already changed my world once.

Christian Today was like one of those days you see on postcards-picture-perfect. Deep, rich blue sky without a cloud in sight, greenery everywhere the eyes could see, birds chirping in the trees, fragrant flowers in bloom. Kids out riding their bikes and scooters, shouting to each other, having a great time. Just a picture-perfect summer day.

It was a few days after the first of July, roughly a month since the get-together. The Fourth of July had come and gone with no great fanfare. My clan and I decided to rise and s.h.i.+ne and attend morning service at Bowler Rock Baptist Church. One of my employees, Joseph Webber, had been inviting me to visit for months now.

Every Sunday, something else always comes up-namely, sleep. I admit, my family definitely needs to do the church thing more often. Most definitely. As it is now, once a month is the norm. Most Sunday mornings find Mia and me wrapped up in each other's arms after late-night through early-morning lovemaking sessions.

I know my moms is rolling over in her grave, because when I was growing up, I was in church every Sunday with her, sitting in the front pew. She'd place Randy, my older brother, and me in the first or second pew and would head up to the choir stand. Moms had a beautiful voice, like an angel, and would occasionally lead songs. I used to love to hear her sing. I miss that so much. I miss her. Yeah, those were the days.

However, things change. Events change a person-they change your total philosophy and take on life. And a lot of times, we never see it happening. It's such a gradual change that it becomes a part of our core being without our ever noticing. My moms died; before that, my brother was shot and killed. I felt like G.o.d had let me down. If he could let bad things happen to good people . . . well, there wasn't a need for church and spirituality.

Now, with a family and child of my own and after experiencing and seeing a lot more in my life, I was feeling a strong push to gain back that feeling that church had brought to me in my youth. Peace, serenity and comfort.

Bowler Rock Baptist Church was our site of praise that morning. Service started promptly at eleven A.M. Mia, Lyric and I had a wonderful time. The church flock welcomed us with open arms. We felt genuine warmth and hospitality that morning. Bowler Rock was under the direction and leaders.h.i.+p of Reverend s.h.i.+pler.

Reverend s.h.i.+pler appeared to be in his mid-forties or so, medium build, clean cut, and the members of the church adored him. The church itself was traditional brick and still had that old-time, Southern-charm feel to it. It hadn't grown too large, too prosperous or too arrogant that the real purpose had been forgotten. That was the problem with many African American churches in the community. With everybody hugging, kissing, smiling and welcoming us, we felt right at home.

That morning, the reverend spoke of the power of prayer. In his thunderous voice, a voice that embodied a spirit wise beyond his years, he spoke of how society had forgotten how to fall down on its knees and pray. When prayers go up, blessings come down. Our parents and grandparents knew the power of prayer. h.e.l.l, a lot of us are still around today because somebody prayed for us. Prayed for our well-being and protection.

As I listened to his message, his charismatic ba.s.s voice put me into a trancelike state. I glanced around at the congregation responding and holding on to his every word and gesture. There were a lot of amens and hallelujahs being shouted! The beautiful, graceful mothers and the stately deacons, sitting in their special corners, had years of wisdom and knowledge amongst them.

I looked over at Mia in her pretty pink dress, looking like a beautiful angel herself, with Lyric asleep in her lap with a tiny smile on her puckered lips. I realized how truly blessed I was. I had done things, shameful things, in my earlier years. Yet, here I was with a woman for whom I'd die and a daughter who was my heart. I lowered my head and silently thanked G.o.d for my many blessings.

Reverend s.h.i.+pler began to end his message while the choir was softly singing ”Stand” in the background. I realized that my prayers regarding Brice had been answered as well. I truly needed-or should I say, wanted-my partner in my life, and it seemed like that was coming together as well. And if I decided to go into business with him . . . Yet, I couldn't get over my uneasiness over the entire situation. I had a nagging feeling about whether I had made the right decision.

After telling Joseph and his family good-bye and how much we enjoyed the service, Mia and I finally made it to the truck, hand in hand, with Lyric sound asleep on my shoulder. Being in a different environment with overstimulation had tired her out. Lyric had been out for the count since church service began. We decided to stop by and say h.e.l.lo to Vivica, Brice's mom. I hadn't been over since that time with Brice, and, according to him, Vivica had been asking about me and requesting that Mia visit as well.

Upon our arrival, laughter and delicious, mouthwatering soul-food smells met us at the front door. We had already seen Brice's Volvo parked out front. Our intentions were to say h.e.l.lo and stay for only a few minutes. We didn't want to intrude. Of course, Vivica was not having that. Before we could even ring the doorbell a second time, Brice answered with a big smile on his face.

He screamed into the house: ”Moms, you are not going to believe who the cat just dragged in!” He moved out of the way so that we could enter the small foyer.

By now, Vivica was walking out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel hanging from her waistband. ”Brice, who's at the door?”

When she got to the doorway and saw us, Vivica was overjoyed, to say the very least. There was so much hugging and kissing going on that you would have thought we had won the Georgia lottery or something. But that's Vivica, a loving, caring, genuine person. She was always like a second mom to me. All my maternal feelings for her rushed back full force.

”Mia, come here, girl, and let me look at you. You look good, baby! Happy! Ohhh, and is this the baby?” Vivica asked as she gently took Lyric from me who was now fully awake and looking around.

Vivica didn't even wait for a response. ”Christian, are you sure you didn't spit this child out? G.o.d, she's the spitting image of you,” she said with a laugh in her voice.

Mia was smiling, but subdued. Occasionally she'd glance over at Brice. Brice was silently standing there, taking it all in. When Mia took my hand in hers, I knew she was uncomfortable.

”Y'all come on in here, and Brice, close that door. I'm so happy to see y'all. Come here; give me another hug!”