Zane's the Other Side of the Pillow (11 page)

As the doors closed, Katrina looked like I had slapped her.

Seven hours later, I was sitting in my office, trying to regain my composure. Mrs. Turner had died on the operating table. While I realized that I had done my very best to help her, it wasn't enough. Even with Alzheimer's she had this amazing spirit about her, and a kindness that was hard to find.

My cell rang; it was Jemistry. I answered, “Hey, baby! I miss you!”

She giggled. “I crawled out of your bed about four o'clock this morning. How could you miss me already?”

“You left at four, and by five, I was ready to bawl my eyes out. I buried my head in my pillow to fight back the tears.”

“Now you're
exaggerating, but I have to admit that I miss you, too. So what are we doing for dinner tonight?”

As much as I wanted to see Jemistry, I didn't want to carry my pain from work to her doorstep. “Maybe we can chill tonight. I had a long day.”

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don't lie to me. I can tell when something's wrong with you, baby.”

“I lost a patient today, and it's hard on me. I wouldn't be good company tonight. I promise you that.”

“Let me be the judge of that. You're always there to comfort me when I have a hard day at work with all those rug rats I have to deal with. Let me reciprocate.”

“Sounds tempting.” I sat back further in my chair, took off my glasses, and rubbed my eyes. “It's going to be nearly impossible for me to relax, or be a good conversationalist.”

“We don't have to go out anyplace. How about I come over to your place, cook you a quick dinner, and then we can curl up on the sofa and watch a good movie. You don't have to talk if you don't want to, and I can rub your back, your head, and even your dick for you until you fall asleep. How does that sound?”

I couldn't help but smile. “That sounds very relaxing.”

“Exactly!” She paused. “Tevin, you have such a kind heart and I'm sure that you did whatever you could to save your patient.”

“I did.”

“You tried and that's all that matters. But our lives must go on. One day, one of us will have to say good-bye to the other. Let's not waste any time.”

“I'll be home by seven,” I told her. “Use your key.”

“Bye, baby.”

I hung up and thought about all that had happened since Jemistry
and I had become official two months earlier. My life had changed in that yurt up in Virginia, and while our sex was what legends were made of, it was more than that.

When I first met Jemistry, she was obviously upset with the world, but with men in particular. My common sense told me not to say a word to her, to let her sit there, finish off her martini, and sulk off into the night. But my heart instructed me to say something to her, to pursue her. There had only been a few times in my life when a woman had appealed to me right off the bat. The last woman who had that effect on me, I married.

Estella was like my fantasy woman. Fine, smart, attentive, passionate, and on track to become extremely successful. We had only dated less than six months before I popped the question. I was convinced that it would be the two of us against the world. We would face every challenge, every obstacle together, and raise a gaggle of children in a mansion fit for a king.

But God had other plans. The first miscarriage made us seemingly closer. The second miscarriage had us wondering what we had done to deserve it. The third miscarriage made us angry . . . her at me, and me at everyone else. I could barely function as a man, much less a doctor, and took a leave of absence to try to pull myself together. Estella went into a shell and completely withdrew from communicating with me, her parents, her coworkers, her friends, and everyone else.

I tried for two years to bring her smile back, but it never came. Every time she looked at me, all she saw were the children who would never be. She went behind my back and had her tubes tied. I was upset that she had robbed me of the possibility of being a father without my consent. Looking back, I understand why she did it. She never wanted to experience that type of pain again. I was not the one who had carried those fetuses inside of me. I was not the one who'd had to deal with their mangled bodies ejecting
out of me. I was not the one who had to feel like a failure because my body could not carry a baby to term. Estella had been through more than I could ever realize until much later.

Just as I felt like a failure at the moment for not being able to save Mrs. Turner, despite all of my efforts and doing all of the right things, Estella had felt the same when she could not carry any of our children to term.

It had been years since I had spoken to her, but something made me pick up my office phone and dial her number. Remarkably, it was still the same number and she answered on the third ring.

“Hello, this is Estella Daniels.”

“This is Tevin Daniels.”

Silence.

“I was calling to check on you. I had no idea that you still carried my last name. Didn't you ask for your maiden name back during the divorce?”

“Yes, I did. Just never got around to going through all of the paperwork.” She paused. “Besides, you never did anything to hurt me. Most of my friends who demand their names back do it out of spite. Daniels has grown on me, so no point in trying to get people to call me something else.”

“True.” I started playing with a pen on my desk. “I was only calling to check on you.”

“I'm fine. How are you?”

“I'm good.”

There was yet again an uncomfortable silence between us.

“Tevin, I need to get back to work, unless you needed something,” she finally said.

“No, no. I don't need anything.”

“Well, then, take care and—”

“Wait a second, Estella. I do need to get something off my chest.”

She seemed irritated. “And what's that?”

“In all these years, I've never apologized to you.”

“What would you need to apologize for? We never hated each other. Sometimes two people grow apart. Sometimes there is simply way too much water under the bridge, to the point where the cars on it get flooded. Sometimes life throws us curveballs that we can never catch.”

“And I agree with everything you said. I do. But now that I've had time to mature, evolve, and think about it all, I realize that I could have been more understanding about what you were going through. I could've been a better man and a better husband.”

“No, you were a good man then and I'm sure you're a good man now. I was not mentally prepared to handle the loss of our babies. Not three. It was a pain that I had never imagined to be possible, and you tried to stand there by my side. I pushed you and everyone else away.”

“So how are you doing now?”

“I'm making it work. I've resigned myself to the fact that I'll never give birth naturally. My fiancé and I are considering adoption, though.”

I had no idea that Estella was engaged. Then again, there was no reason why I should have been privy to that information. When we broke ties, we also broke ties with mutual friends. She had her circle and I had mine.

“Wow, congrats on the engagement!” I told her. “He's a lucky man.”

“Thanks, but I'm the lucky one. He accepted me, flaws and all, and I'm grateful for that.” I could hear her moving around on the other end of the phone. “Do you have someone special in your life?”

“Yes, I do. It's only been a few months, but I've never felt this way before.” I suddenly felt guilty for saying that, even though it was the truth to a great degree. “I mean . . .”

“Tevin, you don't have to explain anything to me. I'm glad that you have found love again. Both of us deserve to be happy.”

“Yes, we do. Well, I don't want to keep you. This is my office number, if you ever need anything.”

“I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for checking on me, Tevin. I'll keep you in my prayers.”

“And I'll keep you in mine.”

We both hung up and I got up from my desk, took off my white coat, replaced it with my suit jacket, and walked out the door. Life was hard, but it was never meant to be easy. I was determined to make Jemistry and me work out. So far, so good.

“We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love.”

—Tom Robbins

J
emistry cooked some chicken and pasta for dinner, popped open a bottle of Moscato, and was making an attempt not to talk too much. I felt bad and flattered at the same time; she was really trying to please me.

She had on this purple dress that made her fineness shine bright and these sexy-ass, bone-white pumps. Some women don't get that men are truly turned on by the heels. Hell, I wished women would have kept them on in the bed from time to time. Then again, I enjoyed playing with and sucking on a pretty set of toes. Jemistry had beautiful feet; she was on point from head to toe.

We were sitting across from each other at the dining room table in my five-bedroom home. I didn't need all of that space, but it made sense for me to purchase real estate. I owned three other homes in the area, but loved living near the park. During the summer months, I loved riding my bike through the trails, hiking, and playing basketball at pickup games.

I thought back to Jemistry bringing all of that gear hiking on the Appalachian Trail in Virginia. It was often hard for her to simply go with the flow. Everything tended to be a production; she was always concerned about having everything she needed to do something.

I sat there chuckling and thinking about it.

“What's so funny?” She glanced down at my plate, which was still half full. “I hope you're not laughing at my cooking.”

“No, it's good. Not as good as what I can throw together, but good.” I grinned as she drank a sip of wine with much attitude. “I'm only playing with you, baby. I don't have much of an appetite.”

“I understand, and I'm sorry for talking so much.”

“You've barely said two words to me since you got here.”

“That's because I said that I wouldn't. I just want to be here for you . . . when you need me.”

I got up from the table, walked over to her, then took both of her hands and stood her up. “And I appreciate that.”

I started to lead her into the living room. “Wait! I need to clear the table and do the dishes.”

“All of that can wait,” I said. “Let's go pick a movie to watch.”

“I've got that covered. I brought a Blu-ray with me.”

“Oh yeah, which one?”

“It's called
Dysfunctional Friends
. It's about a group of friends that are forced to stay together in the same house after a mutual friend's death. They all agree because his lawyer won't read his will until they do it.”

“Aw, so greed makes them deal with one another?”

“Exactamundo! They had all drifted apart because of drama, or just being busy in life after college.”

“Sounds like my friends.”

“Mine, too. I've been thinking about hosting monthly networking events to try to bring my crew back together. Remember how we used to make fun of our parents for being busy with life? Now we're all stressed out over work, some are popping out babies, and scrapbooking or taking yoga classes.”

I sat down on the sofa while Jemistry put the movie into my Blu-ray player and grabbed the appropriate remote.

She was about to turn it on when I stopped her. “If it's okay with you, I would like to talk about what happened to me at work today.”

“Of course, baby.”

We held hands.

“I've lost a lot of patients over the years, but something really struck me today about Mrs. Turner's death. Even though I'm well aware of my mortality, I realize that I'm still relatively young. There are things that I still want to do before I leave this earth.”

“I feel the same way. Life is a one-shot deal. What you make of it, or don't make of it, ultimately becomes your legacy. That's why I'm so determined to make a difference with the kids at Medgar Evers. A lot of them don't have anyone else who believes in them.”

“I love the fact that you're so passionate about what you do. There are many people who don't have that kind of excitement about their jobs.”

“Hell, Tevin, most people are only going through the motions to get a paycheck. I see it in the teachers at my school, especially some of the younger ones. They're underpaid, underappreciated, and thought that they would change the world when they started. Then they got a reality check.”

“Well, the same goes for a lot of doctors, keeping it real.”

“Don't get me wrong. There are a lot of great teachers, and the rest generally have the potential to achieve greatness. But when you have a few students trying to ruin it for everyone else, it can be a challenge. I try to weed out most of that kind, but a lot of times even the teachers are afraid to tell me what's happening in their classrooms.”

“A lot of people live in fear these days. The world has become a crazy place. It's not unusual for us to have gunshot victims under the age of fifteen, or kids coding after using intense drugs.”

“You and I both have a lot going on. It can be depressing.”

Jemistry pushed play on the remote. “Let's chill, watch this, and talk later.”

“Okay.”

She propped her back up on some pillows and then pulled me between her legs. I could smell the sweetness of her pussy and feel my dick instantly become hard.

“I know you said that you were only going to massage me tonight, but, baby, I may need to take it a little bit further than that.”

She giggled. “How much further?”

“I'm sure you know what I'm talking about.”

Jemistry started massaging my shoulders and her hands were magical. She often gave me full-body massages. What I loved about them was that it was obvious that she truly enjoyed doing it. She wasn't doing it for show, or because they talk about all of that in romance novels. She told me once that her love language was physical touch. So I always tried to make sure that I held her hand, hugged her, or spooned with her in bed as much as possible. She said that it made her feel safe and that she slept better that way.