The Crossover (9 page)

“Nope.”

“The library is known worldwide as one of the most haunted places on Earth. It’s a huge tourist attraction and the library is fitted with ghost cams that stream a live feed 24/7. Everyone in town knows about her, it’s common knowledge.”

“I bet she’s been wearing the same underwear all these years, that’s nasty.”

“Clay, I’m not joking.
YouTube
it.”

After a little convincing, I fired up the laptop and clicked on a
YouTube
link.

“Okay, what am I looking at?” I asked Monet.

Monet sat on my lap like it was nothing. It was something all right. I had to refocus.

“Clay, this is police dash cam footage. They are responding to an alarm from the library. It’s 3:30am so no one should be inside.”

“Okay, I see them flashing lights inside a window. Oh shit! What was that!” I shouted.

Monet turned around and faced me.

“Not what, but who. Most people think she is Louise Carpenter the daughter of the proprietor of the building who died before its completion in the late 1800s.”

You could see a full-bodied apparition floating from room to room. She vanished in thin air and appeared in the window and stared at the police officers. That scared the shit out of me.

The cops screamed like little girls before racing back to the car. They reported the sighting.

My sexual urges took a backseat to one of the most frightening things I had ever seen. I closed the laptop.

Monet stood and returned to bed. My eyes tracked her sultry movements and I followed her. I rolled the covers back and crawled on top of her.

“Hey, just what do you think you’re doing?”

I kissed her on the lips softly before responding.

“Not what, but who?”

“Clay, let’s talk. Remember Winnie said my heart was guarded?”

“Yeah. That’s understandable considering the divorce. I get it.”

“No, it’s not the divorce. It’s you.”

“Me? You lost me, babe. What do you mean?”

I could tell Monet was serious so I slid off of her and placed her head on my chest. I held her.

“Clay, I’m going to ask you a question, and I need you to be honest with me?”

“I can’t lie to you and why would I?”

“Okay. Just one question? Who is April?”

I paused. I wondered how she knew.

“April is my ex-fiancée. We officially broke up before I left England but we haven’t been together for a while now.”

Monet turned towards me and sat up.

“Why did you break up?”

“It’s a long story but the passion just died and after a while the juice wasn’t worth the squeeze anymore. I don’t blame her, I’m sure I was just as responsible. Guess it wasn’t meant to be. How do you know about April?”

“She’s all over your
Facebook
page. Your status says,
Engaged to be Married.”

“Yeah, I need to update my page. She changed her status a while ago. I probably go on
Facebook
maybe once a week if that. Tell you what, watch this.”

I got out of bed again. This time I opened up my laptop and logged on to
Facebook.
Within thirty seconds the world would know I was available. I rejoined Monet in bed.

“Okay, it’s done.”

“Clay, you mean all this time you weren’t engaged?”

“When you asked me the first night, I told you I wasn’t in a relationship.”

“But, I thought you were...”

“Lying? Monet, I can’t lie to you. I love you.”

“Do you know how hard it is to sleep with you and not violate you like old times?” she said.

“Tell me about it. So what is our chance of redeeming ourselves over a misunderstanding?” I asked.

Monet climbed on top of me and sat up running her fingers over my chest.

“Our chances? Hmm, I would say about 70 percent.”

Her hands across my chest and her naked body on top of mine was almost too much. I looked at the clock and I should have been on the road already. We both knew I would be playing hooky from work.

“Why 70 percent?” I asked with glassy eyes.

“You might change your mind,” she replied.

“I’ve been waiting and waiting for this. What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” I asked.

“What’s gotten into me? How about you ask me that in a couple of hours?”

Monet scooted off the bed and closed the curtains and put the
Do Not Disturb
sign on the outside doorknob. As she returned to bed she reached for the remote and turned the flat screen TV on with the volume way up.

Monet gave me the most passionate and softest kisses I’d had in 20 years.

“Like you always tell your clients,
‘I’ll see you on the other side’.”

After days and nights of deprivation I slipped into a familiar trance that meant only one thing. Our twenty year wait would be over and we would experience something unprecedented and reserved for the sex addicts we were.

“Timeout, I need a break, sweetheart,” I panted as I rolled off Monet onto my back, sweat pouring everywhere.

“Yeah, me too. It’s hot in here. Turn on the AC, honey,” Monet replied.

The AC was already on.

“I feel like I’ve been rode hard and put away wet,” I commented.

“You have,” Monet replied, winded.

“Clay, it’s 4 o’clock! You’d better make a call,” Monet said as she got up from the bed and stared at the clock.

On the way to the bathroom Monet passed a mirror and she stopped suddenly.

“Clay, what did you do to me? Look at me. I have love bites all over me. Is that a handprint on my right cheek?”

I got up from bed and stood behind her. I placed my hand directly over the print on her cheek. It was a perfect match.

“Yup. Guilty as charged,” I said as I placed my arms around her waist.

“Clay, you do know I have two cheeks. Feel free to spread the love, babe. Just sayin’.”

I loved it when she caressed my face with her back to me. I admired our nakedness in the mirror. I took a mental snapshot.

“Monet, I can’t believe you let me go on and on and on.”

Monet turned around and faced me.

“Clay, you didn’t come 6,000 miles for me to say no. Anyway, I wanted you just as much.”

“I still owe you a dance. I haven’t forgotten,” I said.

“Baby, as much as I would love to dance with you tonight, I don’t have any strength to do anything tonight. It’s a shame we only have two more nights together. Hopefully, I can get my dance before you go back to England.”

I made my call and was glad to find out it was a library day. One of my Marine buddies in class covered for me.

Monet and I got dressed and we had breakfast for dinner at
Cracker Barrel.
I had steak and eggs and she had French toast with grits and bacon. We both downed at least three glasses of water before we ordered our food. While we waited for our meals, I looked at all the couples in the restaurant. I truly felt no one was as happy as we. No one.

T
wenty years is a lot to make up for in two nights, but we tried. I couldn’t leave her alone and she proved just as insatiable. However, all the extended lovemaking would eventually take a toll.

“Clay, whenever we make love it’s a one way ticket to the ends of the earth, first class. Well, I just got the bill and I’m paying for it right now,” Monet commented, lying next to me in bed in obvious discomfort.

“I’m sorry, babe. I’ll be gentler next time.”

“Next time? Clay, if you so much as breathe on her I will strangle you in a leg lock,” Monet replied wincing.

She was half-kidding. But half-kidding means half-serious.

We had two more nights together and the dance she wanted before I left seemed less of a possibility. That night she fell asleep in my arms in record time; I wasn’t too far behind her. We both were pretty exhausted.

“Honey, I’m home!” I called out while unloosening my tie and hanging up my blazer.

I looked around the room and Monet was out. On the center nightstand was a box of my favorite cookies in the world,
Famous Amos
cookies with pecans. She remembered after all this time. I turned around and saw a yellow sticky on the CD console, it read,
Play Me.

The CD was a mixed tape that featured most of our favorite R&B artists from the nineties. Memories flooded my mind and it made me smile. When she returned from
Walmart
I gave her the biggest hug and kiss ever. While at
Walmart
she purchased a long-distance calling card to call me in the UK.

As our time together slipped away like grains of sand, we knew we needed to put things into perspective. We ordered room service and chatted over hot wings and a mammoth cheeseburger and fries.

“Clay, so where do we go from here?” Monet asked sitting across the bed.

“Sweetheart, do I really need to answer that? I hate to break the news to you but, you’re pretty much stuck with me. At least for this lifetime.”

“I think I can handle that. There’s only one thing…” she said.

“Is it a big thing or a little thing?” I asked reluctantly.

“It’s my daughter Michelle. I need to wait until she graduates next year before we make serious plans. Just fourteen more months that’s all. She’s going to Vincennes University in Indiana. She plans to stay with her dad not far from campus. Does that sound reasonable?”

I was relieved.

“Anything that involves us being together sounds very reasonable.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot today while you were in class. The insurance company I work for is opening an office in Birmingham, in the UK. How far is Birmingham from where you live?”

“Birmingham is not that far at all. It’s right up the M6 motorway. Who do I have to hypnotize to make sure you get the position?”

“We’ll see. They have to advertise the position first. The CEO, Ms. Deveraux, will be onsite next week. I might just mention it in passing.”

When Monet showed me the calling card she purchased I immediately thought of her racking up an expensive phone bill. I recommended we sign up for
Skype
accounts. In less than half an hour we both had
Skype
on our cellphones and we practiced skyping lying next to one another on the bed.

Around 9pm the reality of our last night began to set in. I wanted to be happy but I wasn’t. I didn’t want to leave her. It felt so natural just being around her. Monet was also concerned, mostly about April, my ex-fiancée. It took a while, but I think I eased her mind, especially when I told her she could call me anytime day or night.

Around 11pm we showered together and just enjoyed each other’s company under the warm, splashing water. I got out of the shower first and dried off. Monet remained behind a few minutes after me. By the time she dried off I was already in bed waiting for her. As she hung up the towel she looked nervous. She stood at the foot of the bed in the nude with a look of uncertainty. She was apprehensive and I didn’t know why. She eased into the bed to join me.

“Well, tonight’s our last night. I guess you want to make love, right?” Monet asked still wincing a bit.

I looked at Monet and kissed her forehead. I didn’t answer her.

Monet’s body made contact with mine underneath the duvet. She immediately looked underneath.

“Clay, you’re wearing boxers. You never wear underwear to bed. Why tonight?” Monet asked, sitting up.

I got out of bed and put on the CD. The song
Love Won’t Let Me Wait
played softly. I dimmed the lighting.

I grabbed Monet’s hand and escorted her to the center of the suite’s living room. She looked into my eyes.