Charley (13 page)

“What kind of pizza do you like?”

“I like the all meat type please.”

“Of course you do. I’ll get a half and half, because I prefer an all vegetarian.” I dialed Mama’s on Vaughn Street and ordered a large half meat and half vegetarian with a side order of five cheese breads. “It’ll be ready in ten minutes. Mama’s is ahead about six blocks. Take a right on Vaughn and it’s on the right again. So, how did you like the Church service?”

“Charley, you have a wonderful Church, and everyone seems to know you. The music was amazingly good. Your pastor … Pastor John, isn’t that his name? He seemed to be talking directly to me with his message.”

“Thought you might be thinking the same thing I was. I hoped you were,” I replied. I directed him through town to Mama’s to pick up the pizza. “You go pick up the pizza, I need to go to the drug store next door.”

When I returned, PJ asked. “What did you get?”

“Are you writing a book? I’ll let you know soon enough.” I laughed again. “Just drive please.”

He parked the vehicle in the condo parking garage and we walked to the elevator. My condo is on the eleventh floor of the twelve-story building. The door to the condo was a short walk down the spacious well kept hallway.

I swept through the door, and announced with a flourish. “This is my modest home, come in.”

PJ looked inside the door and laughed. “Did you say modest? You’ve done wonders with that contrast of modern whites and softer earth tones. Kind of an understated elegance. Big difference from the Bar.”

“You sound like you know something about decorating.”

“A little; I thought about being an architect in college and we had several interior design classes. I like the accent pieces, and the color you used, which give the clean lines a softness and warmth.”

“Good, put the pizza on the counter and give me some decorating pointers.”

Looking around the open space, PJ gave me the perfect response. “Hard to improve on perfection!”

The living room had two conversation areas. The area by the open bar had two white stuffed sofas facing each other. On the glass top table between the sofas were three crystal vases of differing heights.  Each vase had a bouquet of summer flowers expertly arranged. A second conversation area centered on the stone fireplace, with a huge sixty-inch LG television mounted above the mantle, installed expertly with surround sound equipment to blend with the décor. The floors were a blond hardwood, with beautiful carpets in warm earth tones accenting the conversation areas. Along the far wall was a bank of full length curtains, begging to be opened to let in the sunlight. The floor to ceiling sliding doors behind the curtains opened to a wide patio, wrapping around the corner of the building.

After depositing the pizza, PJ stepped outside onto the exposed patio. The view was toward the hills to the south of Nashville. From my patio, you can see Music Row, Belmont University and on to the Seven Hills area. The condo towered over other city buildings, to give someone with a little imagination the feeling they were on a deck of a secluded cabin in those wooded hills.

“This is awesome Charley; can I come live with you?”

As he stood mesmerized by the view, I came up behind him, put my arms around his waist and laid my head on his broad back. I playfully purred. “You healed yet or do you want to eat some food first?”

PJ was laughing that loud hokey laugh and he replied jokingly. “I won’t be healed for a week after that vicious attack this morning. Let’s just eat and talk. There’ll be time to satisfy our other appetites later.”

Frankly I was glad to hear this for a very personal reason. The morning’s lovemaking had been especially hard on me as well. I’d got a little carried away ramming home and caused a small tear on my outside lips. And my insides were sore from the constant pounding of his intensive love machine. The salve I purchased from the drug store would help, but frankly, I felt like a little break from the physical lovemaking. Although to be honest, I could stand a little old fashioned heavy necking and cuddling instead.

“Why don’t you pour us a drink and take the pizza out to the patio while I change into something more comfortable?” I suggested.  “The glasses are in the cabinet to the right of the sink. I’ll have a beer, Coors Light for me please.”

“Can or glass?”

“Chilled glass will be great. They’re in the refrigerator.”

While PJ found the glasses and the beer and began taking it all to the patio, I changed into something cooler. I found a baby blue v-neck tee-shirt and white soft shorts with flared legs and house slippers. I didn’t bother with a bra, more out of habit than any sexy thought.

He was standing at the rail around the patio sipping his beer when I returned. He turned and smiled as I approached him. “You look fantastic and comfortable.”

I admit I was a little underdressed and he did look awfully uncomfortable in those Dockers and golf shirt in comparison. 

“Why don’t you slip off your trousers and just wear your shorts and shirt? It’s too hot for regular clothes. I promise I won’t attack you.”

“Darn.” 

He didn’t argue and he slipped off the slacks he had worn to Church. I was a bit surprised to see that he wasn’t wearing jockey briefs, but loose fitting silky black boxers.

“The boxers don’t irritate me as much as the briefs,” he explained almost apologetically. He unbuttoned his shirt and asked if I would mind if he took it off as well.

Are you kidding?

Once on the patio, we each took one of the two baby-blue recliners. A fan hung from the canopy, partially covering the patio, and provided a slight movement of the warm air. Other than the whine of the fan, there was a relaxing and almost soothing quietness.

As much as I wanted to have a nice relaxing afternoon, eating, drinking and talking, I guess I was still feeling the excitement of this morning. “You know this patio is completely private. Why don’t we really get comfortable?”

Damn, woman, you’ve gone from shy introvert to brazen hussy. Good for me!

“How so?’

I unbuttoned the shorts, removed them and pulled the tee over my head. “You can come out of those boxers if you want to.”

Within minutes of reaching the patio, we were both naked, lying on the recliners, soaking in the sun, drinking beer and eating pizza.

Hey, this might work after all.

I was relaxed and wanted to get to know this man. “PJ, let’s talk.”

“Okay. I’ll go first. Where are you from?”

“I’m from here in Nashville. My folks had a small house in an area called the States in West Nashville; all the streets were named for states of the Union. My mom and dad were Russ and Kate Howard. They’re both gone now. My father was not a nice man; he left mom and me when I was twelve and we never heard from him again. Mom didn’t seem to mind. He was physically and emotionally abusive to her. Sadly, mom died in an auto accident when I was twenty and in college.”

“That’s tough Charlotte. I’m sorry to hear that. What kind of work did they do?”

“Dad worked at Ford, and mom was an assistant bookkeeper with a local plumbing supply house. They never had much money when I was growing up, just enough to get by. After my father left, mom went to work with the local bank. To this day, I don’t know how she managed to send me to college, but she did!”

“Sounds like she was a good mom.”

“Yes, she was. Real independent and proud and she never complained. You would have liked her.  My turn; so where are you from?”

“Cleveland’s my home; at least it was after my mom divorced my father. He was an alcoholic. She finally had had enough, and worked up the courage to leave him when I was five.  She never remarried, didn’t have time, I guess.  She didn’t have any education beyond high school, but was able to secure a pretty good job as a legal assistant. She eventually worked her way through college and night school, and became a lawyer. She’s always been my hero.”

“Gives you a different perspective on the ability of women, I guess?”

“I get my bullheadedness and drive from her.”

“And your tenderness as well?”

“You make me blush, don’t tell anyone. I’m supposed to be a tough guy.”

“Your secret is safe with me. Tell me about your marriage.”

“I met Sybil while playing in Memphis. She was a media representative with the Commercial Appeal, good looking and sexy and great in bed. But she was not particularly attractive out in the real world, very bitchy, always had to have her way and looked down on people, especially those without money. I was blinded by sex, and didn’t think to notice the more important stuff. We lasted two years, and if I really admitted it, I was relieved when she gave me a reason to ask for a divorce. She liked the excitement and the glamour of my basketball career, but she hated the thought of being a coach’s wife in a small town. Thankfully there were no children. I made a big mistake, and regret almost every minute we were together.”

There was a pause as we each reflected before PJ continued. “Do you want children? I’d like three kids, doesn’t matter whether boys or girls. What about you?”

This question caused me to hesitate. “I want three children. I hope I can have children. I was pregnant when Randle was killed. The doctor had just told us our baby was a boy. Unfortunately, the devastation of Randle’s death caused me to miscarry three weeks later.”

“God, I’m so sorry Charlotte. If I had known, I wouldn’t have asked, I am so very sorry.”

“That’s okay, you didn’t know, and I’ve learned to push it to the back of my mind. Next question.”

“Okay, I need to ask you something that’s been on my mind. Why is your last name Howard and not Brewster?  Did you and Randle never get married?”

I guess I knew that he would eventually ask this particular question. “It’s kind of a long story, okay?”

“Tell me as much as you feel comfortable with.”

I continued after a slight hesitation. “We met in College when I was a freshman and Randle was a senior. By the time I was a senior, four years later, we were engaged and planning a marriage in July after I graduated. I was twenty-one, and Randle was twenty-four when we married and moved into a small apartment in Nashville. Later we moved to Memphis. I used my degree in business to get a marketing position with Smith, Matlock and Brown. They had an office here and in Memphis. Randle had a degree in accounting, and he worked for his dad at Jimmy’s until I got the job in Memphis. He found a job with a small accounting firm there. We moved back to Nashville about two years later. Jimmy went back to work with his dad. I found out later, he was also doing some work on the side. We had an ideal marriage for the first four years. It was during this time we met you and you hit on me, you big boob!”

“Sorry about that, but I couldn’t help myself.  You wore a dress that exposed those big tits, and that cute little tight ass.”

“Okay, no reminiscing on
my
time here! One day, Jimmy called. He asked if I could come by the Bar that evening after work. The call was unusual; we had a great relationship and saw each other all the time. I wasn’t used to a specific request to come see him. But Jimmy sounded serious; he obviously had something on his mind. When I arrived, Randle was with him. We went back to the privacy booth; Ronnie brought us our usual drinks, and locked the privacy panels into place. I knew then something was up.”

PJ looked over, quiet and thoughtful as I continued in more of a whisper. “Jimmy was the first to speak. I can still hear his words. ‘Charley, my dearest. You and Randle have to get a divorce.’ He didn’t know how to be diplomatic; he was always direct and straight to the point. I was shocked and couldn’t speak. All I could murmur was, ‘huh?’ And that’s when my world began to change and not for the better.”

PJ grabbed his drink and said cautiously. “So what was Randle’s reaction to that bombshell?”

“Randle didn’t look too happy. He looked like the kid who got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do, and was now listening to his dad spell out the punishment. Jimmy continued in his serious voice, quiet, calm but firm.

 ‘Charley, Randle has gotten himself involved with Leonard Martin the crime boss. In fact, Randle is pretty darn close to Martin now because he keeps his books. Randle knows as much about Martin’s business as Martin does. He’s in so tight now that he couldn’t leave under any circumstances. And that, frankly, is a
very dangerous
position to be in!’ Jimmy said this with some emphasis on the word dangerous.

I remember Jimmy looking at Randle with a stern face, and then he continued talking back at me. ‘Randle has become a marked man, particularly if this rival gang gains any strength. And, I hate to tell you this, but it also puts you in grave danger. Randle and I both love you, and we want to protect you. The best way to do this is for you to disassociate yourself from Randle. The best way to do this is to have a messy divorce.’ I just stared at Jimmy dumbfounded.”

PJ was surprised. He slowly put down his drink and said quietly. “That sounds like a pretty drastic step, Charlotte. Did he really mean it?”

“He meant it alright! I tried to protest but he hushed me and went on with his plan. ‘You will catch Randle having an affair and of course you will sue for divorce. I don’t have the details yet, but it will get nasty and you will win a divorce from Randle. He will be required to carry a two million dollar life insurance policy with you as the beneficiary. You will demand and receive five thousand dollars a month for the rest of your life. Randle will be required to buy you a condo at the Crescent Arms, in Up Town. Our prayer is that anyone trying to get at Randle, or Martin, will not see any value in using or harming you, since you so obviously hate him for running around on you.’

Jimmy continued with what had been a rather smooth and calm presentation of the plan. But he had to catch his breath for a minute as he wiped the tears from his eyes. ‘Babies I know you both, and it will be impossible to keep the two of you out of each other’s arms, or each other’s bed. So we are rebuilding the apartment upstairs to increase the security, and to provide a protected and private way in and out. You will be able to meet there whenever you want.’