A Cold Piece of Work (18 page)

“What?”

“You don't remember? We were partying hard to Essence and it was crowded and this guy stepped on my big toe.”

“Oh, yeah,” Solomon said. “I was ready to punch him in the face.”

“I know,” Michele said. “My toe was throbbing. But you know how it is when you hear some good go-go music. You gotta dance. So I was up there shaking it while putting as little pressure as possible on that foot.”

“Yeah, and you were shaking it pretty good, too,” Solomon said. “You know what else I remember about that night?”

“What?”

“Before that dude stepped on your foot,” he said, “I was coming
back from the bathroom. You didn't see me. You had on this green and gold sundress with your back out. Your hair was darker then. The sun had not set yet, but it was getting dark. But it seemed like you were illuminated. I stood there and watched you for about a minute. I remember thinking to myself, ‘Nice.'”

“Really? You never told me that before.”

“That was one of those perfect dates we had. Other than the broken toe.”

“It was a perfect night,” she said. “You know what I remember? When we got to your place after the concert, you turned on some music, lit some candles and gave me a glass of wine.

“And you know how I remember it was that night? Because the music you put on was more go-go. You said, ‘I can't get it out of my system.' And I was like, ‘It's in my system, too, but the go-go gots to go. It doesn't work with wine and candlelight.'”

“You did say that,” Solomon said. “Wow, I haven't thought about that night in years.”

They talked and laughed and had a second and third glass of wine over the next hour. It was a conversation that did not include Gerald, which was unique for them.

“Do you realize this is the first time in three weeks when we talked about each other and things that did not involve Gerald?”

“True,” Solomon said. “I'm still not used to this whole thing, but it's coming so much faster than I thought. Michele, we're going to be all right. The three of us.”

She nodded her head. “Come with me,” she said, grabbing Solomon by the wrist. He followed without issue. When they got to Michele's bedroom door, he stopped.

“If I think what's going to happen is going to happen, I need to go to CVS real quick.”

“You're right. I actually had my tubes tied after delivery,” Michele
revealed. “But the responsible thing to do is to be responsible.”

Solomon nodded his head in agreement. He did not like condoms—what man did? He found them unromantic, inhibiting, distracting and unnatural, too. But he understood their value.

“I'll be back in ten minutes,” he said, turning away from Michele. She called his name.

When he turned around, she pulled him to her and they kissed. “Don't be long,” she whispered.

Solomon did not answer. He smiled and walked away. In the car, he called his boy, Ray.

“It's going down,” he said.

“What's going down?” Ray asked. “And why you calling me so late anyway? You're lucky I'm up watching
SportsCenter
.”

“It's not even eleven o'clock; stop crying,” Solomon said. “Tonight's the night with Michele. I'm headed to CVS right now.”

Ray said, “CVS? Oh… It's like that?”

“Yep, it is. She's been like my girl all this time, but this makes it official,” Solomon said. “You know what it's taken to get to this point? Man, a lot.”

“Well, wishing you good luck isn't the appropriate thing to do, huh?” Ray said, laughing. “Let's see: Break a leg? Nah, that doesn't work, either. How about ‘have fun'? Or—”

“Yo, I'm outta here; you're crazy,” Solomon said. “Call you tomorrow.”

He found what he was seeking at CVS—Magnum condoms— but was embarrassed to go to the checkout line because there was an elderly lady standing there waiting to pay for her items. He didn't want her to see what he was buying.

So he piddled around the store, browsing magazines to bide time until she was gone. On that row were the greeting cards, which struck a notion for him to purchase one for Michele.

He ended up deciding on a card with a photo from behind of a man and a woman holding hands, walking down a beach at dusk. It was serene and romantic.

With the woman gone, he paid for his stuff and, in his rental car, pulled out a pen from the center console. He then wrote Michele a note inside the card.

Before he finished writing he received a text message from Michele, letting him know that the front door was unlocked. When he got there, he locked the door behind him and headed through the living room to Michele's bedroom. On the way, he noticed that the door to Gerald's room was securely shut.

He could hear soft music the closer he got to Michele's room at the back of the house. The door was slightly ajar. When he slowly pushed it open, he saw Michele lying across the bed in a short white negligee, illuminated by scented candles on the nightstands that flanked the bed.

Solomon closed the door without turning around. He did not want to take his eyes off of Michele. He shook his head.

“What's wrong?” she asked.

“Everything is right,” he answered, walking over to her and placing his bag on the floor beside the bed.

She rose to her hands and knees on the bed and he leaned over to kiss her again. “Beautiful,” he said before pressing his lips against hers.

“Me?” she said wryly.

“You. This room. This
moment
,” he said.

“I hate to go—”

“Go?”

“To the bathroom,” Solomon finished. “Can I take a quick shower?”

“Oh, sure,” Michele said. “Use my bathroom over here. Everything
you need is in the linen closet. But don't make it a spa shower.”

“Five minutes,” he replied.

He was done in three. Solomon had never washed himself so quickly. As much as he lacked faith in women, he had always believed in romance. It was the seduction of women that he enjoyed, and it offset his distrust of them. So, he hurried because he did not want to blow the mood.

With a towel draped around his waist, he reentered the bedroom. Michele was sitting up with her back pressed against the leather headboard.

She smiled. “Welcome back.”

“Sorry I had to go for a minute,” he said. “But I feel refreshed.”

She maneuvered across the bed and pulled the covers back. He pulled the knot from his towel and it fell to the floor, revealing his strong, lean, naked body.

“I remember all that,” Michele said.

He climbed in the left side of the bed and under the luxurious six-hundred-count sheets. Neither of them played coy. Immediately, they embraced.

“You don't know how many times I've wanted to be right here with you,” she said.

He didn't answer, not with words. Rather, Solomon kissed her on her neck and shoulders and she sighed with pleasure. He kissed her face and she turned toward him so their lips could meet.

She took in his body. It had been fourteen months since she had been with a man and even longer considering how uneventful that one-time encounter had been. Solomon was a committed lover. There was intense passion between them, even after so many years. So she anticipated the heat.

Caressing his shoulders and back and feeling his lips on her confirmed everything she had tried to suppress:

She loved Solomon Singletary.

In that moment, the pain of the past was so blurry and the pleasure of his presence and touch crystal clear. The reality was that she never stopped loving him.

Solomon's reality was that he loved her, too. He had never told her as much, not in words. He had always communicated his feelings to her through how he treated her and how he made love to her.

“I remember this, Michele,” he said softly into her ear. “I remember how warm your body is and how soft it is. I've missed you close to me like this.”

“Me, too,” she said, reaching down and stroking the throbbing extension between Solomon's legs. “I've missed this.”

That was her not-so-subtle hint that foreplay needed to be over. Always keen, Solomon got the hint and leaned over the side of the bed to pull the condoms from the bag.

As he did so, Michele grabbed his butt. “Still nice and tight.”

He was so caught up in getting the condom out of the box and then out of the wrapper that he did not offer a retort. When he got it free of all the packaging, he lay on his back to apply it to his erection. Michele kissed him deeply as he did.

Once on, he pulled Michele on top of him and caressed her back down to her hips and over her round and soft ass that he had first noticed that night in D.C. In one motion he rolled her over on her back and was on top of her, as a tiger would prey.

She spread her legs and he positioned himself between them to enter her. Just then, he remembered something important: Michele liked to do the honors of inserting him into her hot, wet, “good-good,” as he called it. She said doing so gave her power.

And so, she did, and it was like an injection of life. She held
Solomon back by his waist to prevent him from going in too deep too soon. But the sensation was unmistakable and it ricocheted through her body like a pinball.

“Baby, I feel you,” she said. Her muscles began to loosen up and she went from holding Solomon back to pleading for deeper penetration.

“Oh, give it to me. Give to me, baby.”

Solomon, meanwhile, was giving it to her. Her legs in the air and his arms locked inside her thighs keeping them there, he pumped up and down into her wetness, hitting it from angles and depths that made Michele scream.

Aware that Gerald was down the hall, Solomon tossed his pillow over Michele's face to smother her noise. And she had reason to be loud: She had not been so intensely screwed since Solomon had done the honors the night Gerald was conceived.

She pulled the pillow off her face. “Baby, you getting it. You getting it. Oh, damn. Keep doing that. Keep doing that.”

He kept doing that and doing that and doing that over the next ten minutes or so. Suddenly, Michele's legs began to tremor. “Oh, oh, oh, oh…” she screamed.

She pulled Solomon down so that their chests met. “Owww, baby, do it, do it.”

Solomon thought he
was
doing it, so he kept on stroking. Their body movements were synchronized. And her groans were in perfect rhythm to his thrusts.

Michele made sounds that she could only make in the throes of passion. “This is it, baby. Ohhhh, ohhh, awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!”

She climaxed with such a force that her body shook and all she could do was tightly hold on to Solomon. “Oh, my God… I can't stop…”

The heat that came from her and their passion got the best of
Solomon, too. She would not loosen her clutch around his body, but he continued to pump inside her and as she came for the third time, Solomon exploded, too, breathing so heavily into the side of Michele's face that she had to turn away.

“Oh, my Lord,” he said. “Michele…Michele.”

He was sweating and struggling for air—and for the right words to describe how he felt.

She loosened her grip and they rested there for a minute or so, Solomon's large body crushing her. Michele's way was to please, so she did not say anything.

But Solomon knew. “I know you can hardly breathe,” he said as he pulled up from her chest. He made sure the condom was still secure and slowly pulled out. This was one of the unromantic parts of using rubbers.

Michele took a deep breath. “Man, you know how to please me,” she said.

He discarded the heavy condom in the plastic CVS bag and lay on his back. Michele rested her head on his chest and he put his arm around her. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes. They caught their breath and collected their thoughts.

Then Solomon felt something wet on his chest. It was Michele's tears.

“You all right, dear?” he asked with concern in his voice.

She nodded her head and wiped her face and his chest with her hand and kept her head down.

“I'm sorry to cry on you like that,” she said. “I'm just…I…I don't know if I've ever been happier in my life than right now. Solomon, I love you. You probably don't want to hear that, but I do.”

Solomon rubbed her arms and shoulders. “Can I give you something?”

She lifted her head. “You gave me plenty, but I'll take more.”

He laughed. “You've got to turn on the light.”

As she did, he reached over and picked up the card he had purchased from the drugstore.

“What's this?” she said as he handed it to her.

“It's yours.”

She opened the envelope and then the card. It read:

“Michele, it is important for me to let you know that you have changed my life. I cannot go on without again apologizing for my big mistake. But through fate and God, here we are.

“I believe we can/will be better than ever because I have grown and I see the light. And the light is you. I appreciate who you are as a woman, as a mother, as a friend, as MY woman. I am committed to you and to our son. Don't ever forget that.

“Above all, I love you, Michele.

“Yours, Solomon.”

Michele's shoulders dropped and she raised her head toward the ceiling.

“I love you, too, Solomon,” she turned to him and said. “Thank you for this. It means a lot.”

She read the card again before placing it on the nightstand and turning off the light. Michele arranged the covers so that they were comfortable, kissed Solomon on his face and lay on his chest.

It was reminiscent of eight years previous, when Solomon had vanished. But this time, when she awoke the next morning, Solomon was there, holding her securely. Neither of them was going anywhere.