Let's Be Mature About This BN (7 page)

“Shoveling cereal into your mouth is not going to stop you from answering any of my questions so you just finish that mouthful and put your spoon down.”

I garbled some words of protest and then chewed and swallowed my food.

“Now,” my mother began, “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m your mother and I don’t care what the hell you
want
to hear. I have to tell you what you
need
to hear. A man his age is using a girl like you. You’re innocent and trusting.”

At that point I snickered inwardly. Innocent and trusting? If only she knew the disgraceful things I said to him and the intrusive questioning I’d put the man through.

“He thinks he can get control of you and possess you because you’re so young. You should ask yourself why he can’t find a woman his own age that wants to be with him.” I cocked an eyebrow at her. “Don’t look at me with that tone of voice!”

I smiled at her phrase. “I understand your concern, Mom. You’ve given me something to think about. I just wanted you to know what was going on in my life lately. You know I’m mature, got my head on straight. I’m no floozy. I really feel that Gavin is…good. He respects me and I respect him. We even pinky promised we wouldn’t hold our differences against one another.”

“You pinky promised?” she said contemptuously.

I mentally slapped myself again and again and again. It’s impossible to prove to your parents that you’re a responsible adult because you’ll always be their child. It is especially hard when you mention a pinky promise. “About what you said earlier, Mom, it’s not that he can’t pick on someone his own size. He was in a relationship with a woman for two years and it didn’t work out and he’s been single for a year and a half.”

“I'm not trying to be hurtful but,”

Oh no. I’ve heard those words before.

“Maybe you might be some sort of rebound relationship. Was his last girlfriend white?”

I nodded solemnly.

“It’s like ‘stickin’ it to The Man’ but he’s ‘stickin’ it to The Woman’. He’s going out with someone younger and with someone of a different race. How can she compete with that? It’s the perfect way to get her riled up.”

“But…
he
broke up with
her
. He doesn’t want her back.”

My mother shrugged her shoulders and took a bite of her scrambled eggs. “Doesn’t matter. Love doesn’t disappear; it just gets pushed down and away. I know what I’m talking about after dealing with your father leaving us.” Seeing the look on my face she softened her approach. “Sweetie, I just want you to be careful. It’s rough out there. You don’t need a guy right now messing with your mind. Concentrate on getting into med school and being able to buy what you need and want without having to scrimp and save like I’ve had to. Thank God you have a good job at Dennison’s and scholarships from school so I don’t have to worry about you’re next meal anymore.”

I smiled sadly at her. “Love you,” I said.

“Love you, too."

I quietly finished my cereal, grabbed my book bag and got in my car to head to school. I don't think I heard a word my professor said that Friday morning.

Friday night at work I couldn't focus. I forgot to actually bag a customer's food. I just swiped the items and gave her the total. The customer pointed out that I hadn't bagged her items, speaking to me as if I were retarded. Usually I would have said something back, but my mind was too preoccupied to think of a clever defamation. I was so distracted because I needed to talk to Gavin. I needed to talk to him so he could answer all the questions. I knew my mom was wrong. She had to be.

My prayers were answered when I saw Gavin walk through the automatic doors of the grocery store. He waved at me, smiling, and grabbed a cart to do his shopping. As he pushed his cart toward the aisles he turned his head to look at me. He mouthed ‘Are you okay?’ I nodded. He didn’t seem assured by my response but he went on with his shopping. Twenty minutes later when he came to my checkout counter he had a different expression on his face, kind of like he had a good joke he was anxious to tell. He looked so gorgeous. He was still wearing his work attire; a light grey dress shirt with maroon pin stripes, a black belt, and grey dress pants. “Hey,” I said with a small smile.

“I want to kiss you, ya know?” He said in a hushed voice. “I’d lean over the counter, but I don’t want you to get fired.” I mustered up a weak smile and continued swiping items over the scanner. As I swiped the frozen pizza Gavin reached over the counter and grasped my wrist. I flinched, my eyes glued on his hand, the olive skin of his hand contrast against my brown skin. The frozen pizza box dropped from my hand and Gavin interlocked his fingers with mine. “Sydney?” I looked up at him. “Why are you…What’s wrong?”

“I…I need to talk to you.”

“Okay. I’m all ears.”

“No, not here. Maybe…Could I come over? Tomorrow?”

Gavin nodded and let go of my hand. I took a deep breath and finished scanning. “You’re total is $28.54.” Gavin dug into his pocket to get his wallet. I opened my hand for the money and instead received pearly white sand dollars. Four pristine discs, smooth and light weight, as well as perfectly round and intact. A big smile spread across my lips. Where did he get these? Did he keep looking on the beach after I’d left?

“There was a gift shop on the beach about three hundred feet away from where we were sitting.”

“I don’t remember seeing a gift shop.”

“Yeah, I didn’t see it at first either. I guess we were both distracted.” He grinned and I grinned back. He paid for his groceries and we agreed on a time that I could stop by on Saturday. “I’ll see ya, Sydney.”

***

As soon as he answered the door, wearing a blue t-shirt and white and blue basketball shorts, he cupped my face between his hands and planted a kiss on me so delicious and so euphoric that my eyes couldn’t focus for awhile. “You look great,” Gavin said after we both caught our breaths. I was only wearing a green tank top, jean Bermuda shorts and some flip flops so I’m not sure what was so great about that. I found my way to the couch in the living room and when I could once again see straight I noticed the layout of his apartment.

The living room and kitchen were open and flowed together and were flanked by a hall way on each side. The kitchen had gray granite countertops, wood cabinets, and stainless steel appliances. A glass table with an antique iron stand sat in the middle. The living room had chocolate brown leather couches sitting away from the eggshell walls of the hardwood floored room. Two tall bronze lamps with white glass shades stood on each side of the wall in front of the couch where a plasma TV hung above a decorative non-functioning fireplace. Everything was very mature and clean. I didn’t even see an errant pen on a table or a bit of mail on the counter. It was straight out of a catalog. I didn’t like it.

“You should see my room,” Gavin suggested. He led me to the hall on the left, past the kitchen and towards a door on the right of the hallway. His bedroom was crisp with its cream walls and fresh white bedding on his king sized bed. The bed head and head board was a bold black leather. I stood in the doorway and observed the room. I didn’t want to sit on his bed and have him think that was some sort of invitation. On the mahogany night tables stood white marble figurines of the Greco-Roman gods Dionysus and Apollo. Gavin noticed me looking at the sculptures and said, "Dionysus is the god of merriment. I bought that five years ago and it kind of symbolizes my old party hardy life. I bought Apollo a couple months ago. He's the god of light. An expert archer and prophesier he could only speak the truth. That is a symbol of the way I’m trying to live my life now; being truthful to myself and my needs in life.”

“Nice,” I commented. “What are those?” I asked pointing to the six small pillows that sat in front of the two bed pillows.

“Those are just for decoration,” he smiled. I had to stop myself from flat out laughing. Hadn’t I predicted this exactly? Actually, the decorative pillows didn’t look bad at all. In fact, I wouldn’t mind them if, say, we moved in together some day far into the future.

“Can we go back into the living room and talk?”

“Yeah,” Gavin said reluctantly. He knew I wanted to have a serious talk with him. That kiss he gave me earlier was probably to throw me off course.

We went back into the living room and we sat on the soft couches. I wondered to myself if I blended into the brown couch. All of a sudden something jumped on me. I slapped a hand over my mouth so I wouldn't scream and provoke the animal to jump up and claw my face.

"Belle likes you," Gavin grinned, "She wants to say hi." Once I got a look at Belle’s sweet face I relaxed, realizing she meant no harm. Then she jumped over to Gavin for some attention and then hopped off the couch and walked off to somewhere else in the apartment.

“Okay, first question,” I started, “Did you clean up a bit before I got here?”

“Yeah, I was trying to make a good impression,” he smiled.

“Good. I was thinking you were a bit obsessive compulsive for a minute there.” I gave him a weak smile. I knew I needed to talk to him about all the questions I had, but all I saw was innocence in his soft green eyes. I was conflicted. Elizabeth was encouraging me, practically pushing me, to be in a relationship with Gavin. My mother believed he was using me as a rebound. Elizabeth had a fairytale idea about me and Gavin. She married her high school sweetheart so she’s very much a romantic. My mother is a woman scorned; very pessimistic about relationships. I was being pulled in two extreme directions. I needed something in the middle. I should be trusting and yet cautious. I hate these games.

“Sydney,” Gavin interrupted my thoughts. “You’ve been kind of distant lately. Um…I keep thinking you’re about to break up with me or something,” he laughed nervously. Oh, look what I’m putting him through! He thinks I’m going to break up with him. Wait, so we’re officially going out?

“We’re going out? Like, boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I thought we could be if…you wanted to…still.”

“Yes,” I smiled, “I want that.” I was rewarded with a big hug from Gavin. While we hugged I told him, “I’m sorry I’ve been acting weird lately. This is my first real relationship, you know? So I have a lot of things on my mind. And now we’re officially together. I don’t know what to expect.”

“Believe it or not, I’m scared too.”

“I didn’t say I was scared, per se.”

Gavin laughed and pulled away from the hug. He ran a hand through his dark hair. He’s so sexy when he does that!

“Gavin? I think that we should have…the sex talk.”

“I know. When a man and woman love each other verrrrry much—Ah!”

I’d poked him in his side with my pointer finger. He smiled at me. “Now I know where you’re ticklish so pay attention, mister!” I warned. Gavin nodded. “So, in all seriousness,” I looked down at my hands that were now folded in my lap, “When I was in high school I made a promise to myself that I would save myself for the guy that would be my husband. And…I’ve had plenty of time to go back on that commitment but I haven’t because I’ve seen that it’s the only way I know how to find the right person. It’s the only way I could possibly live my life with someone else; if I know that they love me enough, that they respect me enough, to wait. To wait for me.”

I looked up at him. At first I thought he looked angry because his eyebrows were a little furrowed, but he was staring at me with this pensive look. He shook his head from side to side. And then he kissed me, not a hungry kiss like before. It was so tender, the way he softly grazed his lips across mine. He pulled away and whispered, “How could I not?”

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Me, when I was a couple months old. Rockin’ the onesie and the booties.”

“Awww. Baby Gavin!”

“This is a picture of me when I was five with my Mom and Dad.”

“Oh my gosh, you have a mullet!”

“I prefer to call it a shlong, thank you.”

“Hahahaha! A what?”

“Short in the front, long in the back: shlong. It was the eighties. This is me when I was…twelve, I think. I know I was in middle school because this was the Christmas Concert. I played the trumpet.”

“Cool! I played trumpet too.”

“Really? Wow. See the girl sitting beside me at the concert? I had a huge crush on her.” I studied the angelic face of the little white girl with curly auburn locks and dimples in each cheek. “I guess I’ll always be a sucker for female trumpeters.”