A Love So Deep (28 page)

Angie watched William, a little spooked by his display of words. This was so unlike him, so uncharacteristic, and she wasn’t sure where it was coming from.

R
ita
Long sang her heart out. The crowd was wild. Not a vacant space remained on the dance floor and half-filled glasses dotted round tables like special occasion decorations. Everybody who was somebody was at The Water Hole to hear Rita Long throw down.

Fingers were popping, shoes clicking, some folks were singing along with the mistress of song. Bodies rubbed together and lips found their mates as a fast song moved to a slow song—elbows raised on lovers’ shoulders trying to get a field goal.

“The joint’s jumping tonight, Charlie,” sang a happy Clyde. “My girl done turnt the house out. That’s what I’m talking about.” Clyde slapped Charlie five.

“Let’s dance, Charlie. I didn’t buy a new dress to be sitting on this bar stool all night.”

“Can’t you see that there’s no more room on the dance floor?”

“You’re about to get on my nerves.”

“Shelly, please. Find somebody else. I don’t feel like dancing.”

“Maybe your friend Graham over there will let me have one itsy bitsy little dance. That’s if he can tear his eyes away from Rita for two seconds.”

“You just might have to find somebody else to dance with. The boy’s in love.”

“Please. I wanna dance.”

It was hotter than the Mojave Desert. Sweat poured from brows liked they’d stayed up all night frying chicken to raise money for the church’s annual building fund drive. But nobody cared. A couple here, then a couple there would drop out and seek the comfort of their seat for a breather, stopping long enough to finish off the drink they’d left on the table and order a refill. Then it was back to reclaim their spot on the dance floor.

“Sing, Rita. Sing the song, girl,” someone would shout every now and then. “Talk to me.”

“Party over here.”

“Party over there. Raise your hands in the air…Party like you just don’t care. Oh, yeahhhhhhhhhh!”

“Oh, yeah.”

“I’m going to break it down real slow,” Rita said in a sultry voice. “This next number is for my man, Graham Peters—the love of my life, my joy, my all. He’s everything I’ve prayed for, everything I’ve ever wanted in a man. “He’s a Beautiful Surprise” penned by the very beautiful India Arie.”

Rita held the microphone like she was making love to it. She dropped her head and looked into Graham’s eyes. He looked straight into hers. She slowly dragged her tongue across her bottom lip and made a circle with her mouth, throwing her man an exaggerated, sensual kiss that was only for him. And in time with the music, Rita slid her tongue along the bottom of her perfect white picket fence that sparkled from an extra coat of tooth polish.

“Yesterday, I didn’t even know your name, now today, you’re always on my mind.”

There was no interrupting this moment. Rita sang the lyrics to the song like she meant it, like she knew they were written for her. And when the song was finished, when the last word left her lips, she struggled to place the microphone back in its stand—exhausted and drained to the bone.

A thunderous applause met her ears, begging for an encore, as she and Midnight Express stopped to take a set break. William Long stood in a far-off corner hidden from view by the capacity crowd—his eyes steady on the woman he would reclaim as his, regardless of her dedication to the old man who temporarily stood at her side. Angie was there, too, with a couple of her friends. He promised to meet up with her tomorrow because he was busy tonight. He couldn’t risk her seeing him, but she seemed preoccupied with the swarm of well-dressed brothers who kept her heels clicking on the dance floor.

William watched Rita become engulfed in the gracious crowd who offered compliments and congratulations on her performance. She shook hands and gave side cheek kisses, but the main attraction was the man who gave Rita a personal standing ovation, clapping his hands together like a well-oiled puppet.

They embraced. The old man kissed her, and her lips kissed him back before a room full of people. No shame in her game. Unlike the timid Rita he knew. She wiped her forehead with a lace hanky the man handed her, and then accepted another kiss before partaking in a ritual of glass pouring, both clinking glasses together in toast to their love, and sipping on the bubbly that made them giddy and goo-goo-eyed. William had seen enough. He had to rethink his game plan to guarantee its success. He moved swiftly out of the room and into the night.

“Excuse me, Ms. Long.” Angie extended her hand and nodded at Graham. “You were fabulous tonight, absolutely awesome.”

Rita frowned, slightly annoyed. The stranger’s face standing before her seemed familiar. “Thank you. I appreciate your kind words.”

“I’m not sure you remember me. We spoke the last time you were here about my singing career, and you told me to get up with you when you returned.”

“Yes, I remember now,” Rita said, shaking her head in recognition. “I have your card somewhere.”

“I just happen to have one in my purse. I would be so grateful if I could get together with you.”

“We’ll have to do that. Give me your card and I’ll call you sometime next week.”

“Thanks a million,” Angie said, reaching into her purse and pulling out her card. “This is my work number, and you can call there anytime. I’m sorry for the intrusion.”

“It wasn’t an intrusion…” Rita glanced at the card. “…Angie. Anytime.”

“It was an intrusion,” Graham said, once Angie was out of earshot.

“Baby, we’ve got a lifetime…at least what’s left of our lifetime.”

“You’re right. I love you, Rita Long.”

“I love you, too, Graham Peters.”

H
urricanes
Floyd, Isabel, and Fran couldn’t rain on Angie’s parade today. Neither the flash of lightning nor roar of thunder could put a damper on the downpour of good fortune that had finally found her. Her weather forecast had been fair and hazy with low-ceiling clouds hanging overhead, but in the last five days, the weatherman’s prediction of nothing but sunshine for the days ahead was her dream come true.

The weatherman had predicted correctly. Angie and William were seeing each other again and had consummated their relationship, despite a strange beginning. There was more poetry but it was in stark contrast to the puzzling rhymes of the first night they were together. She and William had spent the last five days together—talking, dining in and out, and even taking in a movie, which was rare for William. And she liked the man she saw. He was courteous and attentive, obliging and gracious, and picking up the tab. But William’s new image wasn’t the cause of Angie’s immediate celebration. Ms. Rita Long had called to ask when she was available to get together.

I’m beside myself. Rita Long called me at my job. I can’t wait to tell William my great news tonight—Ms. Rita Long is coming to my house…yeah, my house next Monday. She’ll be coming to my house to see me, to coach me, to give me tips and pointers so I can be just like her.

Angie pulled herself up out of her stupor. She waltzed to the kitchen to check on the meatloaf she had in the oven. It was William’s favorite, and tonight was special. The smell of bell peppers tingled her nose. She tested the meat for doneness, tasted the sauce on top, and closed the oven door.

“Fifteen more minutes and it should be done,” Angie said aloud. “All I have to do is mash the potatoes and make sure the wine is chilled. Angie, girl, watch out. You’re getting ready to soar.”

She picked out a short, sexy number—a black, form-fitting, A-line dress made of imported silk that fell just above the knees. William liked this dress, and she wanted to look special for him—to show she cared about all the effort he was making to put their relationship on sure footing. She floated on butterfly wings—her wings a kaleidoscope of colors, vibrant and alive that matched her heart whose broken pieces were being mended back together.

The powerful current of a raging Niagara Falls massaged her tense body. Angie’s limbs began to loosen up as the water cascaded over her shoulders, down her back, over the curvaceous twin mountains of her gluteus maximus. Too much excitement bottled up in a small frame.

Steam poured from the bathroom when she opened the door. Angie looked like a sex goddess making her grand entrance onto a stage through a haze of dry ice. She felt on top of the world, and she stopped to admire her reflection in the large, floor-to-ceiling mirror. William said her body was perfection, and Angie kissed the tip of her finger and dotted a spot on the mirror, thanking her fairy godmother.

Angie had not told Latrice that she and William were back together. Latrice wouldn’t understand, because she never understood their initial attraction and why Angie would support a washed-up basketball player who did nothing but make her life miserable. Angie would keep this to herself for a while, although she was anxious to show Latrice how people could change if you had a little faith in them. Right now, the only thing that mattered was sharing her wonderful news with her man and making love to him all night long.

Ding-dong. Ding-dong.

“He can’t be here already.” Angie peered at the clock. It was nearly 6:30. “He’s thirty minutes early.”

She grabbed her dress and slipped it on.
Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
She took a quick look in the mirror and brushed her hair back. She ran to the door before the bell rang again and opened it.

“For the lady.”

William produced a half-dozen red, long-stemmed roses and gave them to a very surprised Angie. She took them, smelled each rose, and looked into William’s eyes.

“Thank you,” she said, in a voice just above a whisper. “They’re beautiful.”

“For a beautiful lady.”

Angie broke into a smile. “I’ve got some wonderful news I’ve been just dying to tell you.”

“Let me guess. Sniff, sniff. You’ve got my favorite food cooking in the stove.”

“Right, but that’s not the special something.”

“Don’t keep me waiting, girl. Tell me quick.”

“Sit down, and let me get you a glass of wine.”

William followed Angie with his eyes. He eyed her suspiciously, unsure where this was leading. He walked to the black baby grand and pecked one of the ivory keys before collapsing in one of the nearby red leather high-back chairs that complemented the rest of the mod décor.

“It must be special. I see you’re wearing my favorite dress. You have to hurry and tell me, baby. I’m dying from the suspense. Special, huh?”

Angie returned to the living room with two glasses of chardonnay. She kissed William gently on the lips and handed him a glass. They sipped in silence.

“Okay. Out with it. What are you so excited about that you’re having a hard time telling me?”

“Guess what happened to me today?”

“Baby, just tell me. I don’t have any earthly idea.”

“While at work today, I got a call. I bet you can’t guess who it was from.”

William sighed.

“Okay, okay. I’ll tell you. I got a call from Rita Long. She asked when it would be convenient for us to get together. Can you believe she called me?”

William stared and put his glass down on the coffee table.

“William, do you know what this means?”

“Yeah, you’re meeting Rita Long.”

“You aren’t happy for me,” Angie said flatly. She sat her glass next to William’s.

“Yeah, baby, I am. I apologize if I didn’t seem to share your enthusiasm. I think it’s great. When are you getting together?”

“Monday. I can’t believe it. She’s going to take time out of her busy schedule to meet with me here. I want you to be here when she comes. I’m going to have a little spread—light refreshments. I want it to be real nice.”

William listened as Angie went on and on about Rita. She was so animated, her hands going every which way as she described what she was going to do in preparation for Rita’s visit. He was fifty miles away when he realized Angie was calling him.

“Are you okay? You seem…preoccupied.”

“Just happy for you. So Monday is the day?”

“I’m excited.”

“We’ve got a lot of planning to do. Congratulations, baby.” He hugged her, although Angie could not see the face that was deep in thought and fifty miles away, salivating on his good fortune. He pulled himself away from his thoughts. Angie was whining again.

“I think it’s karma that the two most important people in my life have the same last name. Some coincidence, huh?”

William didn’t answer. Eyes fixed on Angie abruptly looked away when he saw her staring back at him. He was caught off guard. William went to her and put his arms around her. Theirs was a complicated relationship and he even felt a little remorse for using Angie to get to Rita. There was no other recourse, and Angie would eventually get over it. She had before.

“I’d say it’s a coincidence, but you’re just lucky.” He looked down and placed a kiss on her lips. “You’re lucky like that. Now, play something nice for me.”