A Love So Deep (33 page)

I
t
had been a long night at the hospital, but Martha was resting peacefully. She was not yet out of the woods and was being held in ICU overnight for observation.

Rita sighed as she exited the cab, weary from the day. She admonished Graham to stay with Elroy at the hospital. It was going to be a long day tomorrow and she needed to get some rest. Ordinarily, she would have been at the club on a Thursday night, even on Thanksgiving, but she had wanted to be with Graham to help celebrate Martha’s birthday.

The wind whipped around her almost causing Rita to lose her footing. The temperature had dipped down into the low fifties and the shrillness of the wind cut like a cerated knife.

Rita could hear the phone ringing as she put the key into the lock of her apartment.
It might be Graham with a report from the hospital
. Rushing to get the key out of the lock, she hit her forefinger on the door.

“Damn, broke a nail. Hold on, I’m coming,” she hollered at the phone. “Hello.”

“Hey, Rita. I’ve been calling and calling. Where have you been?”

“What is it, William? What do you want?”

“My, aren’t you testy tonight?”

“I’m tired, William, and I don’t have any time for your foolishness.”

“Hear me out, Rita.”

“I told you, I’m tired. Graham’s mother-in-law just had a heart attack and nearly died in my arms. I’m in no mood for any of your…”

“Rita, stop. Please. Just calm down. I’m sorry about your mother-in-law.”

“Graham’s mother-in-law. Where’s Angie?”

“She’s with her sister. Look, I want to run something by you. I’d like to come over and show you a proposal.”

Rita gritted her teeth. She was in no mood for a fight, but she was not about to fall into any of William Long’s traps. “No! I don’t want any company and I don’t want to see any proposal you’ve got.”

“Rita, I won’t take much of your time.”

“Do you realize what time it is? Why can’t you tell me on the phone?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that. Look, Rita, I have your best interest at heart, and I think you’re going to love this.”

“Umm-hmm,” Rita said under her breath. “One minute, and then you’re gone.”

“I’ll be right over.”

“I was afraid of that.” And she hung up the phone.

Although the apartment was small, it was cozy. It was perfect for the short visits without the cost of an expensive hotel stay. The thought of an intruder, especially at this hour, threatened her comfort zone—even if it was William. Rita flung her long sweater over a chair in the living room and kicked off her shoes. Then she walked into the kitchen.

Rita ran water into the tea kettle. She put it on the stove and turned on the burner. She rubbed her neck as a throbbing pain ran the length of it. A puzzled look crossed her face.
What was so urgent that William had to come tonight
? she thought.
It was probably not a wise decision to allow him to come over.

It was too quiet in the room for Rita. She sat on the couch with her feet tucked under her and picked up the remote from the end table. The late news was still on, wrapping up the Bowl highlights for the day.

The whistle from the teakettle startled Rita. She had dozed off so quickly. As she got up from the couch, she thought she heard a noise.
Buzzzzzzzzz
. It was the door.

Rita sighed and walked nonchalantly to the door in her bare feet. She peered through the peephole and was instantly disgusted at the face staring back. She opened the door and hugged it with her body as William sought entrance.

“You did invite me, Rita.”

“No, William. You invited yourself. And I might add that you were very persistent that it be tonight. You got one minute. Start talking.”

“Don’t be that way, Rita. May I come in?”

William slithered in as Rita moved to the side. His silhouette against the midnight sky elicited an excitement she tried to deny—a twilight mood that makes you want to do things you would regret in the morning.

Rita looked away from the man who was once her husband and now stood at her door with the scent of Giorgio Armani oozing from his body. Her soft, brown eyes roamed the length of him while the portion of her brain that controlled her emotions worked overtime.
He was handsome,
she admitted to herself. His long, ruddy-colored dreads blended with the color of his quarter-length leather coat. He wore a drab, olive-green, double-knit turtleneck sweater and a pair of olive-green pleated slacks belted at the waist. A slick pair of brown Stacy Adams rode his feet like a luxury limousine.

“What do you have that’s so hot that you couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” she said in a voice that was much too sexy.

William hesitated. “I’ve been talking to some record producers who are really hot about your sound. In fact, they’ve already caught your act at The Hole.”

Rita was not amused and stood while William plundered through his presentation.

“You may not believe this, but I have your best interest at heart…and Midnight Express’, too. May I have some water?”

“Don’t think about getting comfortable. I agreed to listen to what you have to say…and after that, brother, it’s good night. Just a minute, I’ll get your water.”

Rita returned to the living room and found William tucked into the corner of the couch with his coat lying neatly over its arm. His legs were crossed as if he belonged there, sitting in his favorite chair. The semipleasant expression present on Rita’s face earlier evaporated and was slowly replaced by a cold wall of steel as she debated whether to throw the glass of water in William’s face.

Rita handed William the glass of water. “Make this quick. I’m tired and I’ve got to get up early in the morning.”

William took a sip of water and put the glass down on the end table. “My connections can get you and Midnight Express in some upscale clubs and possibly Vegas. Imagine your name along with Lola Falana, Wayne Newton, and Freda Payne. And some nice comfortable change will come along with the package.”

William picked up the glass again and took another sip. He could tell Rita was a little interested. “I could become your manager—secure your bookings, look out for your interests.”

Rita sighed aloud and sat down on the couch. “You dreamin’, boy. I couldn’t trust you when we were married, and what makes you think I would trust you now?”

“I’ve changed, Rita. Let me prove it to you. We can get married again and start fresh. Maybe have some kids.”

Rita jumped off the couch and started to swing her arms. “That’s it, William. Get out!”

It was a moment frozen in time. William couldn’t control himself and leapt from the couch. He moved swiftly up to Rita and encircled her with his arms and covered her mouth with his, then backed away.

“Stop it!” Rita screamed as she struggled to get away.

William continued to kiss Rita while she clawed at him, her fingers entangled in his hair.

“I want you,” William said between breaths, pressing his body roughly into hers. “You look so sexy with one hand on your hip and the other pointing the way to the door. You belong to me.”

She felt his throbbing hardness as he pressed against her body. It repulsed her to no end, but William had no intention of stopping. The more she tussled, the more aggressive William became. Rita slipped, and they fell on the couch.

William grabbed her hair and gently pulled it back before sealing his lips around the circumference of her mouth. Rita tried to push away, but William had her in a death grip as he moved a leg between hers for better control. He turned her slightly so she was on her side, and a strong hand began to stroke her spine, slowing down at her buttocks and taking the scenic route to her thigh.

Rita’s thoughts were running rampant like a planet spinning out of orbit. Should she call the police?
What should I do
? were her thoughts as she struggled to get away from William.

“Hmmm, you feel good, girl,” William said, his eyes closed and relishing the moment. He could hear Rita’s shallow breathing as she lay non-responsive.

Whack!
William clutched his jaw, and Rita got up from the couch and hovered over William. “Get out!” Rita screamed, shaking where she stood.

“Get out!”

Still holding his jaw, William slowly got up from the couch. Before he could say another word, his coat was flying in the air. Rita was seething and her eyes were like coals of fire. William reached down and picked up his coat and looked back at Rita. She stood with her hands on her hips and dared him to utter a word. He turned around and headed for the door.

William turned around once more and felt his face. “You gonna call Lover Man? What do you think he’ll say if he knows I was with you at one in the morning?” William managed a weak laugh.

“Get out and take your lousy proposal with you.”

Slam!
And the silhouette returned to the vast darkness, but not before leaving a memento, a fresh reminder that the past wasn’t so long ago.

Rita stood shaking in the same spot for several minutes. She encircled her body with her arms and pondered the last half-hour. What just happened? “I’ve got to tell Graham,” Rita sobbed aloud. “I’ve got to tell him about William before it’s too late.”

M
orning
light filtered through the blinds as Graham lay exhausted on the bed. Sleep had come easy for him when he finally made it home at four in the morning after dropping Elroy, Liz, and Deborah home.

Graham woke easily not sure of the time. He stretched out his arms half expecting Rita to be there. They hadn’t spent as much time together as he would have liked with her rigorous schedule, but he planned to change all that.

Lying in bed felt good. Lord knows he needed the rest. Graham had a slight headache and touched his forehead. He was a little warm, and when his hand came to rest on his chest, he noticed that his body had amassed a thin layer of sweat.

He lay there without moving. Seeing Martha lying on the paramedics’ gurney last night brought back a myriad of nightmares. There was a vision of Amanda as she lay dying on a hospital bed after she suffered a severe heart attack. Mother and daughter…life was so fragile, but thank God, Martha was going to pull through this one.

A chill ran through Graham. It was time to get up. He could not lie in bed any longer for fear the dreams would consume and swallow him up once more. He looked at the clock.

“My God, it’s already eleven o’clock. I need to call Rita.”

The wrinkled khaki pants from the night before lay at the end of the bed where Graham left them when he hurriedly jumped into bed. He picked them up and staggered to the bathroom in his bare feet to brush his teeth and wash his face. When he finished in the bathroom, Graham stumbled back to his room, rubbing the silver hairs on his chest that he planned to hide with a pullover shirt.

Brrng, brrng
. Graham rushed for the phone.

“Hey, baby,” said the voice at the other end of the line.

“Hey, sweetheart. I was just getting ready to call you. I just got up.”

“I know you must be tired. Have you heard how Martha is doing today?”

“No, I’m going to pick Dad up and take him to the hospital in a little while.”

“Okay. I’m going to the club at noon. The band and I need to rehearse for tonight’s show. I’ll see you later tonight?”

“Yeah. Are you all right? You seem distant.”

“I’m fine. Yesterday was a long day. I didn’t rest well.”

“Well, you’re going to spend the night here with me. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

“We’ll see. I love you.”

“Love you, too, sweetheart.”

Bang, bang, bang
.
Ding-dong
. “What is it now?” Graham said aloud. He had hoped that this would be a quiet morning. “I’ll be there in a minute!”

Remembering the last time he opened the door to an uninvited Sister Mary Ross, Graham snatched a white polo shirt from the dresser drawer before answering the door. He didn’t need a repeat performance, and Mary Ross wasn’t going to get another chance to salivate over his body.

Bang, bang, bang
. “Open up the door,” a voice called out.

“Damn, it’s Charlie.”

Graham opened the door, and Charlie rushed past with a fifth of Chivas Regal in his hand.

“How long were you going to keep me waiting on that porch?”

“You could have picked up my newspaper and brought it inside,” Graham said, as he stepped outside to pick up the paper. “And I’ll have you know that I might have been in bed with my woman,” Graham retorted as Charlie followed him into the kitchen.

“But you weren’t, were you?”

“How do you know? You been spying on me? Sit down.”

“I rushed over when I heard about Martha. How is she?”

“Her prognosis is good. I was scared, man. I kept seeing Amanda lying on that gurney instead of Martha. I wouldn’t be able to take it if something happened to Martha. It’s only been a few months since Amanda’s been gone.”

“I’m glad Martha’s going to be all right. Have a shot. Might take the edge off.”

“Charlie, you’re on your way to being drunk, and it’s only eleven-thirty a.m. Why don’t you put that stuff down?”

“Man, don’t start on me this morning. Just came by to shoot the bull with my good friend, Graham, and see about sweet, dear Martha.”

“Well, I appreciate that.”

The room was suddenly quiet. Charlie nursed his Chivas while Graham flipped through the paper. “Man, those Cowboys beat the crap out of the Bears. Look at this score—forty-two to seven—a blowout.”

“I hung out at Manny’s house. Had Thanksgiving dinner with him and the wife. Thirty years they’ve been married.”

Graham looked up from the paper. “Amanda and I shared forty good ones.”

“Yep, you had all the luck—a good life with a good woman, beautiful children, and now, another good woman. Humph. Life ain’t fair.”

“Come off it, Charlie. You are way too hard on yourself.”

Charlie sipped his drink and sat in silence reminiscing about his life—a kaleidoscope of mishaps and misfortunes that equaled too much of nothing. He was still good-looking, had charm, money in his pocket, but it could never buy him love. His friend sitting across the way was blessed with two good women in his life…and…

“Umph. They got an article in the paper about gamblers and athletes. Pete Rose’s name probably heads the list. Listen to this.”

Charlie took another sip straight from the bottle. “I’m not the least bit interested in what some overpaid athlete was doing with his life.”

“Listen anyway. Says that it is becoming a growing trend among athletes to lose thousands and even millions of dollars at the game tables or the racetracks.”

“They pay ‘em too much damn money and turn around and condemn they asses for what they do with all the money they don’t know what to do with.”

“I guess that makes some kind of sense…and lay off that bottle. It says Ronnie Calhoun spent thousands of dollars in Atlantic City for sport…”

“Now, that boy just got too much money. They ought to let me be in just one Nike commercial. I’d buy eve-r-y b-o-d-y in Oak…town a
drink.”

“What about that Pete Rose betting against his own team? The paper goes on to talk about ex-basketball star, William Long…William Long…Rita’s ex-husband, William Long?” Charlie’s ears perked up at the mention of William’s name. “Says that he was a compulsive gambler and never got over his short stint in the NBA. Played the tables in Vegas and Reno and owed some people over $50,000. I wonder if Rita knows about this?”

“Probably why she left him.”

Graham put the paper down and stared at Charlie. “You act like you know something.”

“Man, I’m just speculating. Makes sense to me. She left him soon after his basketball career was over, and it wasn’t a secret that he liked cheerleaders…I mean any woman who would cheer him on.”

“Shut up, Charlie. You’re drunk.”

“Relationships. Remember when you and Amanda got married?”

“No comparison, and what made you think of that?”

“Just sitting here going over my life…my life. You and Amanda were a big part of my life. I was there in just about ev-e-r-y as-pect of your life.” Charlie put the bottle of Chivas down. “I was there when you and Amanda got married. I was at the kitchen table just about every time you were.”

“We’ve come a long way together…you and me. Homeboys. What’s mine is yours.”

Charlie pondered that a moment. He crunched his face—creases dividing his face into three equal parts. He looked up and continued.

“I was there when Deborah and Liz were born. I attended their weddings as Uncle Charlie and rode their babies on my knee. Remember the day Liz met Riley? I was all up in Riley’s face, giving him the third degree like it was my baby girl having her first date.”

Graham smiled. “You’re right. Those were some good memories, Charlie.”

Charlie plundered on like he was on a 747 bound for Paris and the whole world was his stage. Even Graham sat back and reminisced on the wooden chair that sat under the table where so many breakfasts were eaten, stories of how Barbie couldn’t stand Ken were told, where backsides stayed glued to their seats until all homework was completed, and nobody would ever know about the lap dance Amanda gave her husband that turned into a sizzling hot, freaky-deaky sex marathon that lasted nearly two hours.

“Graham, do you remember how I met Ernestine?”

“Yeah, Amanda introduced you. She and Amanda went to the same hairdresser.”

“Yeah, you asked me to pick up Amanda from the beauty shop that day because her car was in the shop. She was talking to Ernestine, and I guess Amanda thought I would be a good catch for her. What a mess I made of Ernestine’s life. But I did love her.”

“I smell Amanda’s fried chicken. Dang, that woman could cook. Had the whole church house over for Sunday dinner. That was about as close to the Lord as I ever got.”

“My baby could sho’ ‘nuf fry some chicken. Yes, siree. Why don’t we change the subject? I was doing all right until you smelled the chicken. Shit, I mean shoot, I smell it, too.”

“Those were some good days—me, you, and Amanda.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were sweet on Amanda.” Charlie picked up his bottle of Chivas and took another swig. He looked at Graham, then lowered his eyes. “I remember back in 1970,” Graham continued, “when you took Amanda to the James Brown concert at the Oakland Auditorium. I had to work overtime that night. I wasn’t complaining ‘cuz the money was good, but I wanted to hear ole James say, ‘I’m Black and I’m proud’ just one time.”

“Yeah, we were all into it. We’d repeat right after him, ‘Say it loud, I’m Black and I’m proud.’ And the more he said it, the louder we got. Our tall Afros sat on our heads like crowns while we bopped to the beat. Everybody wore dashikis and had Black Power buttons, and buttons with Huey Newton sitting in his favorite wicker chair pinned all over them. We were on a high when we left the concert. We were expressing our new identity. We were no longer Negroes. We were Black!!

“When we left the concert, we went over to Slim’s barbeque near Seventh Street. A big crowd ended up over there, and we were singing and carrying on. You remember Larry Graham of Sly and the Family Stone. Well, I believe his momma owned that joint.

“We were having such a good time I didn’t want to go home. If it wasn’t for Amanda, being the lady she was and trying to get home to her man, I would have kept her out all night.”

Charlie had hit a nerve. Graham watched Charlie, but didn’t say a word.

“Do you remember when you asked me how I got that scratch on my face?”

“I’m listening.” Graham rubbed his stomach. He felt queasy and wasn’t sure why.

“Well, I didn’t tell you the truth about it. I believe I told you I stumbled into the house with no lights on ‘cuz I was drunk and cut my face on the edge of the bookcase in my living room. Truth is, I did something very bad that night, something I’m ashamed of. Never told a soul and never repented for what I’d done.”

Fixed eyes gazed upon Charlie while he hemmed and hawed around with his story all slow and deliberate. Graham wasn’t feeling any of this, not sure what trip Charlie was taking him on. Then Charlie opened his mouth to continue with Graham giving him his undivided attention.

“Have you ever wanted something so bad and knew you couldn’t have it because it belonged to someone else?” Charlie looked at Graham and did not flinch. Charlie felt in his pocket for a toothpick, and when he found one put it in his mouth. “I recalled wanting this Panama hat so bad that sat on a mannequin in H.C. Capwell’s window when we were young men, and I didn’t have enough money to buy it. I thought of different ways to try and get that hat—down to just out and out stealing it. I wanted it because I thought I should have it, and I loved the way it looked. I know that hat would have looked good sitting on top of my head.

“Well, I went for the forbidden.” Graham squirmed in his seat anticipating Charlie’s next words. “I had loved…loved…wanted Amanda for a long time. I watched her, I watched the two of you together and couldn’t understand why she didn’t see the same thing in me that she saw in you.” Charlie looked up into Graham’s seething face. He ignored the look and continued. “And now Rita. How is it that you are able to pick the best fruit on the tree?

“When we left Slim’s, I had every intention of taking Amanda straight home. I took a detour and drove around Lake Merritt and parked. Amanda was anxious and begged me to take her home, but I had to tell her how I felt.”

Graham jumped to his feet.

“Please let me finish.” Graham sat down and fingered a napkin that lay on the table.

“I tried to tell Amanda how I felt, but she wasn’t hearing any of it. I touched her and tried to kiss her, but I never anticipated her striking back. She clawed at my face until she was able to get in one good slap. Nearly gauged my eyes out. I was drunk and defenseless.”

“She should have killed your ass, nigger, like I’m getting ready to do. I can’t believe she didn’t tell me.”

“If I didn’t respect her before, I had more respect for that woman after that night. She told me she would go to her grave with this secret because I was your best friend and she didn’t want you to think any differently about me. But she promised me that she would kill me if I ever so much as looked at her or touched her in any way that was not befitting my best friend’s wife. And I kept my word.”