I Saw Your Profile (12 page)

Chapter Twelve

T
he
scent of jasmine permeated the house. Boney James’ “Shake
it Up” was playing loudly, giving Arianna something to groove to as she fixed dinner.
The salmon fillets were marinating and the wine was chilling in the
refrigerator. Wild rice and asparagus were simmering on the stove.

 
Strawberries and red, seedless grapes
were set out on the oak coffee table in the living room as appetizers.

Akilah and Amir were spending the night at friends.

Her queen, four-poster bed had fresh sheets and a
brand new box of condoms were in the nightstand drawer.

It was their fourth date and tonight was the night.

On their second date, Mr. Good Body drove up to
Philly. They’d planned an early evening since Akilah and Amir were home and he
had to drive back to Maryland.

Their third date was in D.C. They had dinner at B.
Smith’s in Union Station. Arianna was visiting her brother there. It was on
that date Mr. Good Body told Arianna he wanted her to call him by his real
name.

“Mr. Good Body is a screen name dear. It’s really
quite embarrassing when you use it in public,” he had said.

Arianna was amused that he found it annoying, but
agreed to call him Chauncey.

She’d spaced the second and third dates several
weeks apart and forced herself to avoid intimacy. She was attracted to him, but
she didn’t want to give in too quickly. Arianna didn’t have to be in love to
get her freak on, but she didn’t want drive-by sex.

The doorbell rang at six. Chauncey was right on
time.

“Good evening,” he said. “My, aren’t you a vision.
All those hours you spend in the gym are well worth it.”

The sleeveless, black dress that clung to Arianna’s
figure swayed from side to side as she sashayed across the room.
 

“Thank you. I see you decided to be comfortable
tonight.”

Too damn comfortable.

He was wearing a Nike sweat suit and sneakers. His
attire didn’t fit with the evening she had planned. He got everything else
right, though. He brought flowers, a bottle of wine and the DVD he promised.

“These are for you,” he said, handing her the
flowers.

Arianna sniffed the bouquet of roses and
carnations. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“You are quite welcome. Something smells
delicious.”

“Good. I hope you like salmon.”

“I do. What else is on the menu?”

“Wild rice and asparagus. You can help yourself to
the fruit on the table. I’m going to put these in a vase and then I’ll put the
fish in the oven. I wanted to wait until you got here so it wouldn’t be dry.
Have a seat and make yourself comfortable. Change the music if you want. I’ll
be right back.”

He browsed through her CD collection of
jazz, neo-soul, old school, and R&B.

“You don’t have any reggae or calypso?” he shouted above
Boney’s version of “Grazing in the Grass.”

“Nope. Sorry, never got into it,” she hollered from the
kitchen. “I’m sure you can find something you like, though.”

 
Chauncey
settled on Luther and played “Take You Out.”

 
He walked to
the kitchen.

“Now this is music. The lyrics to most of the garbage that
passes for music these days leave nothing to the imagination. Luther’s my boy.
He keeps it simple. Excuse me miss, what’s your name and can I take you out
tonight.”

“So you prefer the gentlemanly approach, I take it?”

“By all means. Don’t you? I mean would you rather I asked
you out or asked you to back that ass up?”

“Hmm.” Arianna pretended she had to think about it.

“Study long, study wrong.”

She laughed. “Ask me out, of course.”

“Is that your final answer?”

“Tonight it is.”

“Now you’ve got me wondering.”

“Good. Women like to have an air of mystery.”

“May I look around? Your place is lovely.”

“Go right ahead.”

He went upstairs to Arianna’s bedroom. Her laptop
was on top of a small bookcase in a corner u
nderneath a huge poster of Langston Hughes. The shelves
were filled with novels by contemporary black authors and volumes of poetry by
Nikki Giovanni, Amiri Baraka, Maya Angelou, and Langston.

She also had a hardcover Bible, some non-fiction spiritual
books, and fitness and writing magazines.

He turned on the laptop and checked his email.

Arianna went upstairs to use the bathroom. She
stopped and stood in the doorway when she saw him in her room.
 

His cell phone rang. He answered it, speaking to
the caller in a whisper, then put the ringer on vibrate.

“Is everything okay,” Arianna said, startling him.

 
“Yes,
dear. Everything is fine. Just an annoying client. I hope you don’t mind, but I
used your computer to check my email.”

 
“That’s
fine. I just came up to go to the bathroom. Finish your tour.”

Arianna turned around and headed toward the
bathroom in the hall the kids used. She didn’t want him listening to her pee
from the bathroom in her bedroom.

When she finished, she peeked back inside her room.
“I’ll holler when dinner is ready.”

“Thanks, but I’m done,” Chauncey said. “I’ll head
back down with you.”

Arianna went back to the kitchen. When she returned
to the living room, Chauncey was admiring the artwork on the walls. “The Color
of Beauty” by Tim Askar, “Angel Wings” by Laverne Ross, and Jacob Lawrence’s
“Library.”

“You have good taste. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks. Dinner will be ready soon.”

He looked at the family photos that decorated her
end tables. “Are these your children?”

“Yes.”

“Quite good looking. When will I have the chance to
meet them?”

“I’m not sure, but it won’t be for a long time.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I don’t introduce my children to anyone I
date. Now if things become serious, then that’s different. But it hasn’t
happened since my husband died.”

“Well this time, it’s going to be different.”

“How do you know that?”

“I can feel it.

“People get into a lot of trouble going by how they
feel, you know.”

“Not this time. I knew it from the first time we
chatted on the phone,” Chauncey said, easing onto the sofa. He motioned for
Arianna to join him.

She sat next to him, offering him the plate of
fruit. He grabbed a strawberry and continued.

“On our first date, we just clicked. I know you
felt it too. From your patience in the car while we searched for a place to
park to the way we laughed at the same things. I haven’t been so at ease with a
woman like I am with you in a long time.”

Arianna returned the plate of fruit to the table.

“We have a lot in common and I like how we can talk
about everything,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean things are definitely going
to become serious between us or that we will stand the test of time. People are
always on their best behavior when they first meet. Like, I’m not really that
patient. You should have seen me before you got there.”

“Why what happened?”

“It was no big deal. I got into it with some young
girl over a parking space. But my point is, you haven’t seen my ugly side and I
haven’t seen yours. We all have them. And eventually the masks do come off and
those sides of our personalities are revealed.”

“Well I’m sure that I can handle whatever it is you
have to dish out.”

Arianna raised her eyebrows in doubt. “We’ll see
about that when you do something to piss me off. And what about you? Can I
handle your mean side?”

“I have no doubt you can because I could never
truly be mean to a flower such as you.”

“Always the charmer. I’m going to check on the
salmon.”

They ate dinner by candlelight in the dining room.
When they finished, Arianna brought the dirty dishes to the kitchen where she
picked up the phone to check on the kids. The phone was beeping. She had two
messages.

Kenny wanted to know if they were still on to work
out the next day. Her mother was demanding to know why Arianna hadn’t returned
any of her calls.

She erased the messages and called Akilah and Amir.

Blanche and Kenny could wait.

When she returned, Chauncey had brought their wine
glasses into the living room and was inserting his DVD into the machine. It was
a boring Western, one thing they didn’t have in common.

They sat hugged up on the couch for the first
thirty minutes of the movie. She pretended to be interested, but couldn’t
follow the story line. She poured herself a glass of wine and decided to ride
it out. After all, they had all night.

The sandman was about to snatch her away when she
felt something cold pressing against her lips. It was a strawberry. He had
taken a bite and was feeding her the rest. She ate it. He turned her around and
fed her another one. She took the first bite and he swallowed what she left behind.

He dipped grapes into her glass and fed them to
her.

Then Arianna baptized her finger with wine and
slowly licked it off, giving Chauncey her come-hither look.

She submerged her finger in the glass again, this
time plunging it in his mouth.

When he finished sucking her finger, Chauncey
wrapped his mouth around hers and thrust his tongue inside. She grabbed his
smooth, baldhead and held on tightly as if the intensity of the kiss would send
her flying off the couch.

“I want you,” she said.

“You can have me.”

“How much of you can I have?”

“As much as you want.”

They got up from the couch and walked upstairs,
holding hands. She led him to her bedroom and lit a candle. The fire flickered,
illuminating the black and white lithograph of Merrill’s “Right Now” hanging
above her bed.

He stared at the image of the couple ripping off
each other’s clothes.

“Are you as passionate as the woman in the
picture?”

“I guess you’re about to find out.”

She grabbed the remote to the CD player and pressed
play. Anita Baker started crooning out “Body and Soul.”

    
After satisfying each
other, Chauncey and Arianna lay in her bed spooning.

“You better be careful, Ms. Singleton.”

 
“Careful about what?”

“I’m falling in love. And when I fall, I fall
hard.”

“And quick, too, since you barely know me.”

“I know enough. Why is it that when people meet
someone they don’t like, they trust that instinct immediately? You can tell
almost instantly when you can’t stand someone and that’s all right. But when
you like someone right away, you question it?”

“You have a point. But I still don’t want to rush
things.”

“Who is rushing? We’ve talked more than most
couples do after dating for a year. We just haven’t spent much time together.
And we’ve been fixing that. I know I won’t be disappointed. I don’t need
perfect, Arianna. I just need perfect for me. And I don’t need seven great days
a week. I’ll take five out of the seven. If we can give each other that,
wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

“Yes it would. But let’s just start with one day at
a time.”

Arianna slept until eleven. She woke up groggy,
feeling hung over.

“Good morning, sweetie,” Chauncey said. Her lover
was waving a cup of fresh coffee and a bag of blueberry muffins under her nose.

“Good morning,” she said, wiping the sleep from her
eyes. “Where have you been?”

“Out getting you breakfast. A continental
breakfast, anyway.”

“You sure learned your way around here fast.”

 
“There’s a Dunkin’ Donuts in every city
and you can always find someone who can tell you how to get to there.”

He offered her some coffee.

“Mmm. That smells good.”

“How about a muffin? Low fat, of course.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking a bite. “Did you shower
yet?”