A Love So Deep (17 page)

W
illiam
pulled his fingers through his locks and tumbled out of the coffee shop into the brightness of the day. It had gotten to him seeing Rita in such close proximity. She was more beautiful now than when they were together. That was a long time ago, but he was going to change that. Rita was going to be his, by hook or by crook.

William had fallen on hard times and much of it was caused by his own unscrupulous behavior. When he and Rita split up, he was still living the big time, running women and horses. He’d spend days at a time in Vegas hoping to hit the big one—to carry him over during the lean times or just to continue the life to which he had become accustomed.

After the divorce was final, William had lost Rita for a time. As Rita’s career blossomed, her name became somewhat of a household word in the music world up and down the West Coast. Although she remained somewhat in the shadows of the big-timers, William began to hear about her successes and eventually followed her career, every once in a while venturing to one of the clubs where she was performing. He would always sit in the back remaining incognito, although, there was one time when he thought Rita might have recognized him.

As William’s popularity waned, the women drifted away. He earnestly held down a couple of jobs, but the sting of being out of the spotlight was too much for him. He wanted to be a star, and selling insurance or having a nice cushiony office job as Assistant Director for Promotions for IBM weren’t going to produce the kind of life he sought.

He stopped going to work and started drinking more, gambling harder, until most of what he had left after the divorce was consumed. And he lost track of Rita.

He was virtually alone until he found Angie. A friend had talked him into going to a karaoke bar for some fun. And there was Ms. Angie Black, all dressed in white singing “Unbreak My Heart” along with Toni Braxton. William wasn’t sure what drew her to him—maybe she reminded him of Rita so many years before, singing at his friend’s wedding.

Angie took William home, believing she had found the man of her dreams. She took care of him while he bungled job after job. After six years of scuffling and taking care of a man who had no “get up and go,” who believed the power was in the bottle and sometimes drugs, who’d rather lay up and let her go to work, pay the bills, and buy the food, Angie bade farewell to William. Told him she was going to Oakland to live with her sister, Latrice.

Four months after Angie left, William headed for Oakland, hoping to find her. William was able to get Latrice’s number from one of Angie’s girlfriends. When he got to Oakland, William found out that Angie had found a friend and was living with him.

William became angry, almost violent, pleading with Latrice to give him the address so he could talk with Angie. When Latrice refused, William threatened her, and she snatched up her mobile, fingers poised to dial 9-1-1.

William left as quickly as he had arrived. A run-in with the law was the last thing he needed his first night in Oakland. He got a room at the California Hotel on San Pablo Avenue. While talking to a few stragglers in the lobby, he met a guy who wanted to know if anybody wanted to go to The Water Hole for a drink. A drink was just what William needed, and he accepted the man’s invitation to the club.

When William got there, the place was alive and jumping. The jukebox was going and the band was on their intermission break. Everyone was dressed to the nines. Double-breasted pin-striped suits hung from some of the brothers and Stacy Adams shoes adorned their feet. The women sported designer suits, except for the younger set who wore skin-tight lycra dresses and tops that bared their midriffs. William’s grin grew wide.

He sat at a table in a far corner by a wall. His ride, Maurice, was off somewhere getting his hustle on. William wasn’t dressed like those around him, but he could on any given day. And he didn’t plan on going anywhere, because he was digging the scene. The three scotch and sodas he consumed only helped to warm his heart and put him in the groove.

It wasn’t until the band came on to do their final set that William came out of his trance and grew conscious of his surroundings. Right before his very eyes was his ex-wife, singing her heart out to folks who didn’t know her like he did, who lusted after her, who screamed for her to sing on until she was spent.

William sat transfixed as she belted out number after number. The way she swayed her hips and sent sensuous glances to one side of the room made it appear she was singing to someone in particular. William scanned the room to see if there was some crazed individual longing to be with his wife, hoping that she would go home with him and do things that only she and he used to do together.

The set was over and Rita disappeared from sight. Moments later, she reappeared and William watched her with rapt attention. Rita sauntered to a table in front of the stage and pecked the cheek of a man who seemed much older than she. William continued to watch them from a distance as they said good-bye and the gentleman left with another gentleman—about the same age with a yellow girl hanging on his arm.

William stood back. He didn’t know what to make of it, but he’d be back at The Water Hole tomorrow for sure.

And William came and watched for the next two nights as Rita swooned and cooed her lover with song. He also noticed that the other gentleman seemed a little put off by the couple’s obvious affection—maybe he liked her, too. He would have to do a little snooping around, but for sure, Oakland was going to be his stop for a while.

William drove his broken-down Acura Legend away from downtown contemplating his next move. The money Rita had given him would cover his gambling debts and give him a clean slate. But what William hoped for more than anything else was respectability—just the way it used to be. When William Long’s name was called out during a game in the old days, people listened, sent up high-fives, and gave a resounding round of applause. Now his name was as common as the next—couldn’t even buy a job at the corner grocery store.

He entered the neighborhood of fellow former player, Troy Kemp, who had not quite measured up in the NBA. He lived in what could have passed for a mansion sitting on the edge of a slum.
A refuge for the time being
, William thought. Trash and broken bottles littered the streets. Empty, brown, crumpled-up paper bags made a chain-link fence around the neighborhood liquor store. Brothers who had not known what it was to work an eight-to-five job stood outside the liquor store sharing a piece of a promise and a half-empty liquor bottle. William drove on, making a promise to himself that this stop would not be for long.

“Your lips are like cotton candy,” Graham whispered, tasting Rita’s lips once again.

“Your lips are sweet as honey,” Rita cooed, enjoying Graham’s playful prowl.

Graham leaned over her, placing kisses all over until he heard her moan in satisfaction.

“Better not get anything started, even though I could lie here and never get up,” Rita said. It was Graham’s turn to moan.

“And if we don’t get up, somebody will be hungrier than they are now.”

“Just hungry for you.”

“Oh, baby, don’t go there. I may never let you leave Oakland, especially my bed.”

Rita and Graham laughed like two lovesick newlyweds wishing the moment would last forever.

“Baby,” Rita said slowly, “have you regretted making love to me?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“You won’t believe what I was thinking.”

“What?” Graham asked, lazily rubbing the length of Rita’s arm.

“Amanda.”

Graham sat straight up, leaning back on his arms. He looked around the room as if Amanda’s spirit had suddenly materialized. Then he looked at Rita, who stared straight into his eyes. “Amanda? What…about Amanda?”

“Well, I…I was wondering if she was sitting way up there in the sky looking down at us…upset with herself for leaving you and not being the one you were making love to tonight.”

Graham dropped his eyes.

“I was wondering if she’d accept me like her parents did, knowing that I had your best interest at heart, and that I would never try and take her place, but love you for the rest of your days.”

“Amanda is gone, Rita. I have just come to that realization myself after all I’ve been through these past few months. It has nothing to do with you being in my life. It has everything to do with knowing that Amanda is not coming back to me, and that what we shared was wonderful, wholesome; and no one can compete with that. I truly believe that Amanda would be upset with me if I just sat around and pouted, let life drift away to the point of decay that even turns the vultures’ noses up.”

“You have a way with words.”

“I’m serious, Rita. I loved Amanda—and still do. But I love you, too. And right now, I’m alive—more alive than I’ve been in a month of Sundays. And, if you don’t stop looking so good lying there…you, you goddess of the hearth, I’m going to have to delay dinner at Kincaid’s and dine on the feast that layeth before me!!”

“You sweet, sensuous man. Come here!” Rita squealed with delight.

Graham fell upon Rita, and their bodies entwined. They held each other close—so close it seemed their breathing stopped. They kissed passionately, rocking back and forth on the French provincial, queen-size bed that offered only comfort as the couple slipped further into the depths of what was fast becoming another evangelical ride to the mountaintop.

I
t
was 6:30 when Graham rose from the light slumber that overcame him and Rita after a healthy second helping of lovers’ delight. Now sitting up, he looked down at her—so peaceful with an angelic expression on her face. Her right arm hung carelessly off the side of the bed while her body formed the shape of a geometrical design with her head and feet marking points on a linear equation. Graham was in love.

He shook her gently, not wanting to scare her. First her right eye, then her left fought to peel back the lids that shut out the miracle of day. Rita fluttered her eyelashes as she tried to focus—her eyes seeking a sense of familiarity. She slowly lifted her body, catching a glimpse of her disheveled head in the dresser mirror before finally spotting the object of her daydream. Rita was in love.

They showered together, unable to get enough of each other’s touch. They kissed and touched. They kissed and rubbed. They kissed and held each other. They kissed and toweled off one another. They kissed as they put on the clothing they had carelessly tossed about the room. They kissed between searching for her purse. They kissed after he picked up his keys. They kissed and touched. They kissed and rubbed until someone managed to unlatch the front door on their way to get a bite to eat. They were in love.

Rita and Graham walked to their respective cars. Rita agreed that after dinner, Graham would follow her back to her hotel room so she could pick up a few articles of clothing and whatever else she needed to tide her over for a couple of days. It would be so simple to give up her hotel room, however, Rita wanted the option of its availability on the rare chance she might need it. And with the way things were going, she doubted very seriously she would need it at all.

Graham was already in his car when Rita noticed a folded piece of paper under the windshield wiper. Someone must be advertising a big event in town. Rita took the piece of paper from the window and tossed it onto the passenger seat, along with her purse, without looking at it. She leaned her head back against the headrest; she was hungry and couldn’t wait to taste the crab cakes at Kincaid’s.

Graham and Rita arrived at Kincaid’s twenty minutes later. They elected valet parking, and after leaving their car keys with the attendant, hurriedly went inside the restaurant. The place smelled of smoke—possibly the remnants of grilled steak and seafood—that caused their palates to water. Men in expensive suits, an aged woman with several large diamond and emerald rings weighing down her frail fingers, and a huge, burly man with the stump of an unlit Havana cigar stuck in the side of his mouth waited to be seated. There was a crowd tonight, but the wait would be worth it.

They were finally ushered to a table in a cozy corner of the restaurant. Small table lanterns were lit and the overhead lights turned down low. It was the hour of the day when lovers sipped their favorite chardonnay and carried on light conversation in low romantic whispers. They were given a menu, and the waitress promised to return in a minute.

Rita excused herself to go to the restroom and passed a large party of diners celebrating what seemed to be some sort of office get-together. The men in the expensive suits had joined the party sitting at a round table with two overbleached blonde women in their late twenties. Someone told a funny joke and the crowd began to howl.

The restroom was in the opposite corner from where they sat, and she lost sight of Graham when she rounded the corner. Before entering the restroom, Rita felt as if someone was watching her. She looked, but didn’t see anyone she remotely knew. She shrugged her shoulders and went in.

When Rita emerged from the restroom, the laughter from the large group of diners met her ears. She now realized they were roasting one of the employees, and everyone was getting into the act. Then she spotted Charlie at one of the booths, sitting with a lady friend who was way over-dressed in a mink fur coat and hat—unseasonal for that time of year. It was a bit chilly, typical for the Bay Area in the early evening, but in the thick of October, the leaves were still yellow and brown.

If Charlie saw Rita, he pretended not to, although he was sitting in the direction that had her in full view. Rita decided not to go over to his table; she would spare Charlie the embarrassment of having to introduce her to his new woman, who just might be intimidated by her intrusion. Rita still could not get over the feeling she was being watched. She twisted her neck in all directions, was grateful there wasn’t a trace of William, and deduced her fear to her imagination.

When she returned to her seat, Graham was sipping chardonnay—the stem of the glass resting on the palm of his hands. He got up when Rita returned, and sat when she had comfortably settled in her seat. Graham had a faint smile on his face. He took Rita’s hand off the table and kissed her fingers gently. Rita blushed.

“The waitress came by for our order, and I told her to return in a few minutes.”

“Thank you,” Rita whispered seductively.

“When we’re an old mar…I mean…when we’ve been together longer, then I might take the liberty of ordering for you.”

“You are the last of the purely great breed of gentlemen.”

“I do my best.”

“I saw Charlie sitting at a booth on the other side when I came from the restroom,” Rita said, changing the subject.

“Charlie, here?”

“Yes, he was sitting with a woman I didn’t know, but he didn’t see me.”

The look on Graham’s face turned to one of puzzlement.

“Something wrong?” Rita asked. “You have a puzzled look on your face.”

“Just thinking.”

“What is it, Graham? One minute I was telling you about seeing Charlie, and the next you climbed into some cocoon. Did I say something wrong?”

“Charlie didn’t say anything to you?”

“Like I said, he didn’t see me or pretended not to see me, although I was in plain view of him. And, I wasn’t about to go up to his table and say hello.”

“Where did you see him again?”

“Across the room and around the corner.”

Before Rita could say another word, Graham jumped up from his seat and proceeded in the direction Rita had pointed out. He was gone all of one minute before he returned and sat down.

“Didn’t see him. He seems to have left in a hurry.”

“Hmph, that’s strange. It didn’t appear he had eaten yet.”

There was a long pause before Graham spoke. “Rita, how did Charlie know that you were here today?”

“What are you talking about, Graham?”

“I saw Charlie this morning at the barbershop, and he made it a point to let me know you were in town.”

Rita watched Graham, searching his face for the accusation, finally realizing the source of his strange mood earlier in the afternoon. It was apparent Graham was upset Charlie knew she was here and that he had just found out, as if her coming to Oakland was a big secret. She didn’t know how Charlie knew, but it was Graham she was worried about—his not trusting her.

“I don’t know how Charlie knew I was in town. The first time I saw Charlie since I’ve been in town was ten minutes ago—and then from a distance. I’m not sure what you’re trying to insinuate, Graham, but it has me a little perturbed. Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course, I do, Rita. It’s…it’s just that Charlie and I have been sort of on the outs. And it has been mainly about you. Charlie has always been jealous of me for whatever reason, and although we go back fifty-something years, he has not changed.”

“What’s that got to do with us?”

“It was the way Charlie said, ‘
I hear Rita’s in town
.’”

“Maybe he heard it from Clyde. I called Clyde this morning to let him know that I would drop down there today or tomorrow to sign a contract for our next gig. That’s the only explanation I have, Graham. Whatever silly game Charlie is playing, if that’s what he’s doing, I am not aware of it. I had some personal business downtown, and that was that.”

A smile lit up Graham’s face. “I’m sorry, Rita. I guess I was a little jealous that he knew something only I should have known—and that tone of voice…just set me off.”

“Don’t worry about it, baby. I like my man a l-i-t-t-l-e jealous.” Rita stroked Graham’s arm. “We can kiss and make up tonight.” But Rita was more than worried—and not about Charlie.