Angel Over My Shoulder (11 page)

“So you’re single?” Missy asked.

She nodded feeling her once succulent pork chop turn to sawdust in her mouth. “Yeah. I’m pretty busy. That’s not easy, right now.”

“You know, Derrick and I have some very cool friends; professional brothers-”

“Ohhh…” Leslie made a face. “Not really into blind dates.” She fumbled with her napkin. “I guess I’m the type that has to find a guy on my own…and take it from there.”

Derrick tilted his head. “I have a colleague that is very down to earth, I’m sure you would like him. You should let me introduce you two.”

She sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

After dinner they had coffee and Leslie’s cake. Missy oohed and ahhed over how pretty it was, but when she tasted it, her eyes literally crossed.

“This is the best cake that I’ve ever had in my life!”

Leslie grinned shyly. “It’s a French recipe but I’ll take all of the credit.”

“Oh my god! You have to make Natasha’s birthday cake!”

“Of course. No one else better dare touch making her first birthday cake!”

When Leslie went home that night she felt very good for the first time in so long. Only one thing could make it better.

~1999~

Leslie placed the eighth candle on the birthday cake. This year it was purple with fondant balloons pressed onto the oblong sides. The top was layered with faux balloons, the surface appeared to be a sculpture and in fact it was. She had cut the shape of a balloon onto the cake. Some might consider it wasteful but it was one of the more amazing cakes she’d ever made. Several customers had seen her decorating it and had ordered similar ones and James had taken a picture of it to put into their catalogue.

She lit the candles and smiled wistfully at how beautiful it looked.

“Happy Birthday, Angel. You are eight years old today. You must feel like a big boy. I bet you are rough and tumble with scars and bruises to prove it. I’m sure your mother kisses away all of your boo boos. In school you probably hate doing your English work but you probably love science and maybe even reading. I bet you are thin and perhaps your Mom has cut back your curls so that you will look like a big boy.” She smiled again. “Don’t forget me my sweet Angel. I love you now and forever.”

Leslie blew out the candles and she took a small slice and ate it as she thought of all of the things that she and Angel had done together; while she was a child as well as when she was an adult. The memory of him was tarnished now, but she never forgot the way he looked. That image was seared into her brain.

She did the dishes and finished packing. She was moving. For the first time in over twenty years she would live someplace other than the house that had been her and Grandmama’s. But she was twenty-eight, single, and had enough cash to live wherever she wanted. For now, she was moving to France to research some of the bistros for ideas. She didn’t know how long she’d be away and it seemed the perfect time for her to let go of her old home.

The bakery had become so successful that they’d opened two more stores. Missy, who had gained an extra fifteen pounds over the years, had also garnered an appreciation of Leslie’s pastries and so Leslie had given her a job of managing one of the stores. Their friendship had grown and blossomed and when Derrick and Missy had given birth to a second baby, she had been given the name Leslie.

Leslie’s love life was still non-existent. Both of her friends had tried setting her up with eligible and handsome bachelors, and for the most part she liked them, but they weren’t Angel. She wasn’t even sure what quality they lacked, it just seemed that there was nothing dynamic about them. They went about their day to day lives with little flair. She’d dated a musician once and he had been exciting but he didn’t turn her on.

She wasn’t sure if she was exactly waiting for Angel to come of age. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, but her life was definitely on hold. Missy had mentioned once that Derrick had made a comment about how it did his ego good to know that he was not the only one that Leslie had dumped with little to no reason. The women had cracked up laughing and Leslie had apologetically explained that maybe she was just meant to be single.

Her phone rang as she taped up the last of her dishes. She would place her personal items in storage and be in France at the end of the week. She hurried to the phone.

“Leslie!” She grinned. Her friend never just said Hello.

“Hey Missy. What’s up?”

“Oooh, I got something for you. Call it your going away present.”

“Ok. What is it?”

“I’m on my way now!” The phone went dead in her hand. Leslie had a moment of nostalgia and she looked over her shoulder in the direction of her Grandmother’s bedroom. She held her breath and listened…then the moment passed and she put the phone back on its cradle.

Fifteen minutes later Missy was ringing the doorbell. “It’s opened. Come in.” Leslie called from the kitchen. Missy came rushing in and stared with interest at the pretty purple cake.

“Who’s birthday cake?”

Leslie almost dropped the armful of can goods that she was going to drop off to the free store. “Oh…an experiment. Just to see how candles look on it. Grab a slice, it’s good. There are paper plates and plastic utensils on the shelf.”

“No, I’ve had way too much to eat today.” Her eyes twinkled as she held up an object in her hand. It looked like a CD.

“What is that?”

“A CD. Remember that Bobby Caldwell song you used to like? And we were at April’s party that time and you got up and started singing and dancing to it. Hell, girl, I think that’s the moment my husband fell in love with your ass.”

Leslie scowled. “Yeah. I remember, what of it?”

“Voila!” She handed her the CD. “It’s an underground by that rapper; Common. He did a remake of Open Your Eyes. You gotta hear it! You will love it!” She slipped the CD from her friend’s hands and moved to the living room where she placed it into the CD player.

A mellow beat came over the system and Missy turned it up and began moving to the music.

Leslie sat on the couch. She hadn’t played that song in years. She blinked at her friend who was going on and on about how dope the song was.

“Don’t you love it?!”

“It’s…I do.” She smiled.

Missy stopped dancing and turned down the music. “Well, why do you look like you’re about to cry then?”

She chuckled and wiped at her wet eyes. “You know how I am; sentimental.” Missy sat down on the couch beside her and hugged her.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about how this is your last few days in your grandmother’s house. I’m a damn fool. I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m only going to be gone a couple months.”

“Do you think you’ll be back by the New Year? We gotta bring in the millennium together!”

“Of course!”

~September 11, 2001~

“Leslie, you need to come home!”

“I know I’ve been trying to get a flight out. It’s almost impossible. I have a friend here who will pack my things and ship them for me. And I’m going to drive to London and fly out of Heathrow tomorrow.

Missy sighed in relief. “Good. Let us know when your flight lands and Derrick and I’ll be there to pick you up from the airport.”

“No, don’t do that. I’ll take a cab.”

“Ok, but don’t you dare stay at a hotel, I need you here at the house.”

Leslie could hear the near hysteria in her friend’s voice. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll be there before you know it.”

“You know, you’re like my sister and when I heard about how American’s are being targeted all over the world…it scared me to death. I’m just so happy that we don’t have anyone over in New York City.”

Leslie fidgeted with the phone wire. Yeah, perhaps, except that Angel had a New York accent… “I better get packed. Everyone is making a mad dash and I’m not sure I’ll be able to get a rental if I don’t get started.”

“Okay, go, go. Call me!”

“I will, love you.”

“I love you, too!” Leslie hung up the phone and with shaky hands looked around her small home. Where did she begin? She just packed the essentials into two big suitcases and then rang her friend and told her where to find the keys and money to get her things shipped.

Hours later, as she drove her rental towards London she listened to The Light by Common and thought of a nine year old boy with brown curls, very scared as he wonders about the nature of the world and why someone would want to take out their vengeance on the innocent. If he is a New Yorker he was certainly in the midst of all of the madness to locate lost friends and loved ones. He is nine and he is likely very scared.

~June 2002~

“Happy Birthday!” Leslie leaned forward and blew out the thirty candles that had been piled onto her cake. She couldn’t believe that she had been so thoroughly surprised by the party. She would have never thought that anyone would care enough to try to usher her into this next decade of her life with a party…it certainly wasn’t something she wanted.

She did smile graciously at everyone present which included Derrick and Missy, their girls, Glenn and his third or maybe fourth wife, then there were some of the bakers from various stores, the owner of the supply company that they used for each bakery, and then last was Missy’s mother. There was no boyfriend, no child of her own. But she smiled gracefully and tried to count her blessings instead of her woes.

After all, she was the owner of three of the most successful bakeries in her city. Glenn had sold them to her as he felt that it was time to do some travelling with his new wife before he got too old to enjoy either. Leslie had kissed him on top of his balding head and thanked him profusely for having faith in her. He blushed, grumbled and then gave her a brief hug and kiss in return.

“What’s wrong?”

Leslie smiled. “A year older, that’s what’s wrong.”

“Wow…you’re old.” Missy joked. Leslie gave her a hug. “Thank you for the party.” Missy glanced at James, one of the bakers.

“James is cute and I think he likes you.” Leslie glanced at the man. He was sweet, and yes, she knew that he did like her.

“James is…sweet.”

Missy laughed. “I guess he ain’t the one, right?”

“Right.”

“Who is the right one, Leslie? Does he even exist?”

Leslie looked at her. “I’m not sure. I used to be, but it’s been so long, I’m not even sure anymore.”

~2006~

Leslie stared at the cake. This year it was square; a chocolate cake with raspberry fudge between each of its three layers and a chocolate gonash covering it. White powdered sugar and dusky brown cocoa created an intricate pattern.

She placed 15 bright red candles on it. Once she lit each she watched it burn for a moment before blowing them out.

“Fifteen. I can’t believe it has been fifteen years since I’ve seen you.” She closed her eyes. “You think that you are a man, and you can’t stand being told anything. You think about girls all of the time. You listen to music like Radiohead and maybe even some old rap like Run DMC because it’s hip. You probably got your first pair of chucks and are wearing t-shirts with bands like Red Hot Chili Peppers. Have you smoked your first joint, taken your first drink…or do you remember how much you hated when I did that?” She sighed. “Do you even remember me? Are you forming lifelong bonds with…with girls your own age?”

Leslie cut into the cake, the slice uneven, the gonash tearing. She placed a slice on her plate and began to eat but it would not go down. She finally gagged and spit it into the garbage. She boxed up the remainder of the cake and placed it into her refrigerator. She had spent hours on the cake, but she knew that in a few days she would just end up throwing it away.

She paced the floor restlessly and then headed to the bathroom of her condo. Her home would sell for three quarters of a million dollars whenever she found a purchaser, and it was still one of the best deals in her city. The agent had told her that she could get a lot more, but she wanted to sale quick.

Leslie stripped out of her clothes and stared at herself in the mirror. She was thirty-six years old and looked a lot younger than that. Men followed her with their eyes so she guessed that meant that they were attracted to her. Now she wore her hair short and tapered, almost a boy cut.

Despite the fact that she was a baker; prone to testing out her own products, her body was toned. She wasn’t as small as she had been at one time, but where she had filled out only made her look more mature. Her breasts were full and still fought off gravity and her stomach was still flat even if her hips and ass were bigger.

Her scars had faded a great deal but the evidence of them would never completely disappear. She remembered how Missy had described them as mysterious and she guessed they were. Some thought she had been in an accident, and men who shared her bed on rare occasions felt the need to show her how they accepted them by running their tongue over them.

She shivered and thought about a time when Angel’s cock would rise and his body would tremble with need and he would reach over and stroke the crease between her legs and feel for her readiness before rolling over onto her and slipping himself into her depths. And she thought of how she would moan and writhe as he pushed into her body; spreading her, stretching her causing her to yell out in pleasure. And as he learned the sounds of her passion he would quicken his pace and moan loudly his own passion sounds. Thrusting and rocking his cock in and out of her he would finally yell out and his hot semen would spray her insides, mingled with her own natural lubricant, until it poured from her; coating them both in their love.