Let's Get It On (24 page)

“Because I'm no fool, and not much goes on at Clark Atlanta that I don't know about. Besides, you're my daughter, and you were on my insurance at the time,” Angela said. “I didn't know how to comfort you.”

Kenya stared off into the lush woods in front of her. She wished that she'd shared her pain with her mother, but she'd been afraid. “I wanted to tell you. I just didn't want to disappoint you.”

“You wouldn't have disappointed me. You couldn't have,” Angela said, then wrapped her arms around Kenya. With tears in her eyes, Angela held Kenya and rocked back and forth. “I've always been proud of you. I always knew that you were destined for great things, and look at you. I don't want to see you go through that ever again. This marriage may be opening you up to more pain and heartache. You know how these athletes live. Michael Vick got sued for giving a woman herpes, Rae Carruth was convicted in connection with the death of his son's mother, and do I need to mention O. J. Simpson?”

“But Maurice isn't like that. We've talked about this. I know he has a past, but that's just what it is.”

Angela dropped her hands to her sides. “And how long will it be before he falls back on his bad habits? The groupies and parties, and you'll be left alone, maybe with a family to raise.”

Angela's words fed into Kenya's quiet insecurities, watering the seeds of doubt that she'd unsuccessfully tried to bury. “I believe Maurice when he says that I'm the only woman he wants. He didn't have to . . . Mom, you married your first love. Why don't you want the same for me?” she said.

“If he wasn't Maurice Goings, the man who hurt you as deeply as he did in the past, then I wouldn't have a problem with it.”

“He's changed.”

“Can you be sure of that?”

Kenya chewed on her bottom lip before she said, “Yes, I'm sure. All I want is your love and support.”

Before Angela could answer, there was a crash in the kitchen, which drew the women inside. Fish were scattered across the floor, and Maurice was laughing with Henry.

“Boy, you ain't that far removed from the country. The fish is out of water. It's dead,” Henry said through his laughter.

“I've never handled fish that wasn't completely dead,” Maurice said.

Angela placed her hands on her slender hips as she surveyed the scene. “What's going on in here?”

“Cleaning fish,” Henry said matter-of-factly. “You two were outside yapping, so we had to do something to get dinner started if we wanted to eat tonight.”

Angela looked from Henry to Maurice as if they were two imposters. “You're in here with all of these knives, and there's no blood?”

“Ma,” Kenya said, shooting her mother a cautionary look.

“Well,” Angela said as she walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a bag of cornmeal, “I guess I'd better help, or I'm going to have fish guts all over the place.”

Kenya smiled as she watched her family cutting and gutting fish together.
This can work,
she thought.
She'll come around.

To say that there was tension at the Taylor dinner table would be the understatement of the year. Kenya's eyes darted from her mother to Maurice every time a knife clanked against a plate. Each time she wondered if Angela was going to throw a utensil at him. Though Henry seemed a bit more accepting of having Maurice sit next to his daughter, he was uncharacteristically quiet: he did not even tell stories about fishing at the creek in Covington.

“Well, this fish is good, Daddy,” Kenya said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Angela nodded. “Yeah. Doesn't taste like freshwater fish at all.”

Henry rolled his eyes at his wife as he dove into his meal. “It's the Old Bay seasoning that makes the difference.”

Kenya sighed. When were these people going to speak their minds? If everything was out in the open, then they could move on, and she and Maurice could go about planning their lives. Maurice reached under the table and rested his hand against her thigh.

Angela noticed his movement and dropped her fork. “Okay, I can't take this. Maurice, I don't want you to marry my daughter, I don't want you touching my daughter, and I don't want you in my family.”

“Mrs. Taylor—”

“Boy, shut up! Shut up! You have inflicted more pain on my daughter than I care to think about, and she's just going to let you waltz back into her life and give you a chance to do it again. You've always been selfish, from the time you and James were little boys. Just because you can play football doesn't mean that you have the right to treat people like dirt. That's how you treated my baby, and I don't know why or how Kenya can forgive you. I know I can't.” Angela pushed back from the table, sending her chair crashing to the floor. “Kenya, you're an adult, and you can do what you want to do. I just wish you wouldn't do this.”

Angela stormed out of the kitchen. Henry excused himself from the table and followed his wife down the hall.

“Okay. Your mother hates me,” Maurice said. “That's real good.”

“She knows,” Kenya said. “About the baby and all.”

He dropped his head. “You told her?” he said.

“No. I was on her insurance, and she's known for years. She thought that I would come to her and talk about it. I just never thought that I could,” Kenya said. “She's going to have a hard time getting past that.”

Maurice stood and glanced sidelong down the hallway. “You think I should go talk to her?”

Kenya shook her head furiously. “She's not going to listen to you,” she said.

“I can't just stand here and do nothing,” Maurice said, then took off down the hall.

As he walked away, Kenya prayed that her mother didn't have access to any sharp objects.

Maurice stood in the doorway of Angela and Henry's bedroom, not meaning to eavesdrop but unable to say a word.

“Kenya's an adult, Angie. She's capable of making her own choices. She's not a little girl anymore,” Henry said.

“So what? She'll always be my little girl, and if I see her walk into a fire, I'm going to try and stop her. How can you just give him a free pass, knowing that . . . I just don't believe it. I know you men stick together on things, but this is your daughter.”

“Maurice is a genuine good guy who made a mistake. You didn't hear him talking to her. I think he loves her, and he knows if he hurts her again that I'll kill him,” Henry said.

“I want to kill him now,” Angela said as she made eye contact with Maurice. “What do you want?”

“Mrs. Taylor, you have every right to hate me. I know that there's nothing I can say to make you change your mind about me, but what about Kenya?” Maurice walked into the room and stood against the wall.

Henry slipped out of the room, because he knew Angela and Maurice needed to talk alone. Angela rose from the bed and stood toe to toe with Maurice. He looked down at her, since he towered over her by a foot. Kenya definitely got her feistiness from her mother.

“You're a sorry excuse of a man,” Angela said through clenched teeth. “All of these years Kenya was dying inside. She lost you, her child, and she gave up her dreams, because they all seemed to include you.”

“She told me about the baby, and I can't tell you how guilty I felt, and I know that there's nothing I can do to take her pain away or change what I did. But I was young and messed up big-time, but I promise you that I will never do anything to hurt Kenya again,” Maurice said.

“You say all the right things, Maurice. Your silver tongue has always been your secret weapon, but I'm not one of your little fans. You're a liar, and you will always be one in my book.”

Unable to control his frustrations, Maurice blew up. “But this isn't about you, Mrs. Taylor. Kenya has made her choice, and you can hate me all you want, but do you want to lose your daughter in the process? We're getting married, and we don't need your damned permission.”

Henry stormed into the room. “All right, you won't talk to my wife in that tone. Now, you can't expect that either one of us would be jumping for joy because you're engaged to our daughter!”

Maurice ran his hand across his face. “I'm sorry. I was out of line for raising my voice, but I meant what I said. Kenya and I are getting married, I love her, and I'm going to do right by her.”

“Stop all of this right now!” Kenya cried from the door. “This isn't the way I'm going to live my life. Constantly choosing between Maurice and you guys. No one's asking you to fall in love with Maurice. All that matters is that I love him.”

Angela threw her hands up. “Fine, Kenya. It's your life. I'm going to clean up my kitchen.” She pushed past Maurice and bolted out of the room.

Henry shook his head and followed his wife.

Once they were alone, Maurice drew Kenya into his arms. “That went well,” he said sarcastically.

“Oh, that's one way of looking at it,” she said. “Let's get out of here.”

 

 

Kenya and Maurice left her parents' house quietly. There were no hugs good-bye and no other confrontations or loud arguments. Instead of driving back to Charlotte, the couple decided to stop at the downtown Hilton.

Inside the room, Kenya curled up on the bed, wishing that things had gone better with her parents. Maurice eased in bed, beside her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

“Honey,” he said, his lips close to her ear. “I know things didn't turn out the way that you wanted them to, but your parents know where we're coming from.”

“I know,” she said as she turned around and faced him. Kenya stroked his cheek and smiled weakly. “I guess I hoped they'd see you the way I do.”

“Maybe one day they will, but that's my problem. I have to win their trust. There's nothing you can do to change their opinion of me. I have to prove to them that I am worthy of your love.”

Kenya leaned in and kissed him on the nose. “I already know that you're worthy.”

“They're just looking out for their baby girl,” Maurice said. “I can't blame them.”

“Even though I wanted my parents to stand behind us, I'm not going to let them change my mind about marrying you,” Kenya said.

“But are they going to show up? Do we want to have a—”

Kenya brought her finger to Maurice's lips. “Our wedding is about us and not them.”

Kissing her finger, he nodded in agreement. “So, when are we going to do this?”

Kenya shrugged. “I don't know, but the sooner the better.”

“You're not going to change your mind on me, are you?”

Kenya rolled her eyes, biting back a comment about her name being Kenya and not Lauryn. “I'm not changing my mind,” she said and then leaned against his chest. “I love you, and there's nothing anyone can say or do to make me change my mind.”

Maurice kissed Kenya tenderly on the back of her neck. “I thank God for every day that you're in my life. Your mother's right, though. I'm selfish. When we get married, I'm going to want you all to myself. And I do have a silver tongue, and talking ain't the only thing I do with it.” He ran his tongue down her neck and across her shoulder before flipping her over and lifting her tank top to expose her breasts. Kenya melted as he took her rock-hard nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue across it before devouring it as if she were a piece of sweet candy. She felt dizzy with yearning. Thoughts of her parents were pushed from her mind, and she was filled with the untold pleasure that was about to come as he eased down her body, using his teeth and fingers to pull her panties off. Desire pooled between her legs, and she was so wet that Kenya thought she had a river flowing between her thighs.

Maurice spread her legs and kissed her inner thighs before moving to her tender folds of flesh. Kenya moaned in delight and dug her nails into his shoulder as he flicked his tongue across her throbbing clitoris. Her legs shook, and her juices flowed like an ocean. She grasped the blanket as he deepened his kiss, touching every sensitive spot. Kenya arched her back, pushing her body closer to his mouth, because she wanted to feel more of him, wanted him to make her scream.

Maurice reached up, sensuously massaging her breasts and making her body hotter than an inferno. Ready to feel his manhood deep inside her valley, Kenya tugged at Maurice's ear, whispering, “I want you. Inside me.”

He didn't need any more coaxing as he spread her legs and lifted her hips to his and slipped inside her. She heard wedding bells and thought of babies and sitting on the porch, holding his hand. Opening her eyes, she saw that the man she loved was staring at her as well. Their hearts seemed to have one beat; they seemed to breathe the same air as they shared their love. Their union was complete when they climaxed together and fell asleep in each other's arms. Finally, Kenya felt secure with him, felt as if they had a future, and nothing, not even her parents' disdain, would change that.

The next morning, Kenya and Maurice didn't want to pull themselves out of bed. But with a four-hour ride back to Charlotte, they were forced to climb out of bed, shower, and hit the road.

“Are you sure you don't want to stop by your parents' place before we go?” Maurice asked as they got into the car.

“No. My mother's probably at work, and knowing my dad, he's in Covington with my uncle. They had their say last night, and I don't think I want to hear anything else right now.”

“I do have one request. I'd like to go see my mother before we leave. She should be at the bakery, and we can get a free meal.”

“Okay. In all of this, I hadn't even thought about the fact that we didn't tell your mother about us.”

Maurice laughed. “I'm sure James has filled her in. But I should tell her myself. And don't worry. My mother has always loved you.”

Kenya pinched him on the shoulder. “Funny.”

They headed for Auburn Avenue, in the heart of the Sweet Auburn Historic District. Maurice's mother had worked off and on for years in a bakery that locals loved and tourist couldn't get enough of. When the owner died two years ago, his family asked Maryann to take over the day-to-day running of the bakery. Though she didn't have to work, because Maurice took care of her bills and anything else she needed, Maryann agreed because she wasn't the type of woman to sit at home. Besides, she loved cooking and meeting new people. Maurice would've been happier if his mother had stayed home or moved to Charlotte and had relaxed after the hell she'd endured when he was growing up, but he has happy because she was.

“Does the bakery still have those sticky buns your mom used to bring us in the summer?” Kenya asked.

“They sure do. But I can't have any. I'm in training,” Maurice said sadly. He loved those five-hundred-calorie buns, and he could never eat just one. But with training camp coming up, he needed to keep his weight down. The last thing he wanted was for some rookie to come into camp and take his place.

“Well, we'll split one, because I don't want all of those buns sticking to my hips.”

“No, I've got something a lot better for those hips,” he said in a seductive growl.

Kenya slapped him on the shoulder as he opened the door to the bakery.

“You ever think about moving back here?” he asked.

Kenya stopped in the doorway. “Are you getting traded to the Falcons?”

Maurice shook his head. “I'd better not be. But there is life after football.”

“I know, but I like Charlotte, and moving right now wouldn't be a good thing for me being that my job just transferred me from Atlanta. Moving back isn't an option.”