Love Becomes Her (16 page)

B
arbara spent a sleepless night tossing and turning as images of newscasters ran behind her for her input on the Michael Townsend scandal that had her legs exhausted when she pulled herself out of bed.

What if it was a scam on the mother’s part? It wouldn’t be the first time, she told herself. She’d lost count of the numerous allegations made against athletes for one thing or another, only to find them baseless.

She brushed her teeth and stared at her reflection. He’d asked her to marry him. She spit out the toothpaste and rinsed her mouth. Married? She should be excited, a little bit thrilled, something. What she was without a doubt was confused.

Marriage was a big commitment. Not one to step into lightly. And she had to admit, if she was honest with herself, his timing was suspect at best. Did he ask because he really loved her or to distract her from what was really going on?

They hadn’t known each other for even a year, at
least not as a couple. And to be honest, she wasn’t crystal clear how she felt about Michael. Sure, she had the hots for him, she enjoyed his company, he made her feel good about herself, and he could definitely provide for her in a style to which she could easily grow accustomed. But did she love him?

She ran her fingers through her hair, noticing some new gray. In a matter of months, she would be fifty. Definitely in middle-age zone. She’d already begun to experience symptoms of menopause. It was only a matter of time before the clock struck midnight and she turned into a pumpkin. What then? How would he feel about her then, with vaginal dryness, crazy mood swings, hot flashes in zero-degree weather and her wanting to wear flannel pj’s instead of Victoria’s Secret to bed at night?

Yick, what a dismal picture. And what of children? It was too late for her, and if this child wasn’t his, she was positive he would want a family of his own, something she could not provide.

She pulled her nightgown over her head and turned to face the full-length mirror that hung on the back of the bathroom door. She tugged in her stomach, stuck out her breasts and held her breath. Yeah, if she could walk around like this 24/7 she’d be a knockout. She exhaled before she got dizzy, and everything dropped unceremoniously back in place.

Face it, Barbara, she counseled herself, turning
sideways. You have the body of a mature, forty-nine-year-old woman, with big breasts, thick hips and a butt to gut ratio that was running a close race. The Barbie-doll woman at the gym assured her that she could tighten up her figure: with hard work, diet and exercise on Barbara’s part. Truth was, she liked to cook and loved to eat. She hated treadmills, jogging, aerobics and perky gym instructors equally.

She glanced down between her legs and noticed a few straggling gray hairs down there, too. No, Ms. Clairol was not going “down there,” that’s for sure.

Sighing, she pushed open the shower stall and turned on the faucets.

Michael, Michael, Michael. What was she going to do? She stepped into the shower and momentarily the cleansing water washed away her troubling thoughts. At least for a bit.

While she was getting dressed her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Barb, it’s me, Ellie. Girl, I saw the news. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, you and me both.”

“Have you spoken to him?”

“I called him.” She sat down in the wing chair in her bedroom. “He asked me to marry him…” She went on to tell Elizabeth about their conversation.

“I…I don’t have a clue what to tell you. How do you feel about it?”

“I really don’t know.”

“Well, that can’t be good.”

Her other line rang. “Hang on a second.” She switched over to hear Ann Marie blathering about “whuppin’ ’is arse.”

“Annie, listen, I appreciate the sentiment. But that won’t solve anything.”

“That’s what ya all say. But a good arse whuppin’ is just what some of dem need. I have a meeting, but I will call ya lata.”

“Thanks, Annie.” She switched back to Elizabeth. “It was Ann Marie. She suggests doing a drive-by.”

Elizabeth giggled. “She would. Anyway, girl, I know you will do what’s in your heart to do. Whatever decision you make, you know I’ll support you.”

“I know. Thanks.”

“Look at the bright side, when was the last time a fine, thirty-something man asked you to marry him?”

“It’s been a minute,” she said, and laughed. “Hey, isn’t today brunch with Ron?”

“Yes, it is.”

Barbara could hear the smile in her friend’s voice. “Well, you enjoy yourself and don’t do anything crazy.”

“That’s what I have to keep telling myself…not to do anything crazy. Every time I see that man, my juices go into overdrive.”

Barbara’s eyes widened. Was this Elizabeth Lewis
talking? “Well, you just try to keep those juices under control, okay?” She smiled.

“We’re going to a public place. He’s meeting me at the restaurant. We’re arriving in separate cars.” She blew out a breath. “Can’t get any more ‘dry’ than that.” She giggled. “I swear, I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately.”

Me neither, Barbara wanted to say but didn’t. “My advice, go with the flow. You only live once, so enjoy it for as long as it lasts.”

“Yes, I deserve some happiness.” She paused. “And so do you, Barbara. Whether it is with Michael or a mystery man you have yet to meet. It’s been a lot of years since Marvin, a lot of years not to have someone in your life. I know it can’t always be easy.”

“It hasn’t been. I was lonely a lot of the time. Everyone seemed to have someone except me. But I kept myself busy and convinced myself that I was content.”

“Like me,” Elizabeth cut in.

“Exactly. So when I got involved with Michael, it was as if I became of full female for the first time in years. He made me appreciate my femininity, something that, as much as I loved Marvin, he never did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. At least I understand it all now. And if nothing else, I have Michael to thank for that.”

“Then it’s a good thing.”

Barbara smiled. “Yes, it is. Listen, you get ready for your date. Call me with all the details later.”

“I will.”

Barbara hung up, thoughtful for a moment. Hmm, darn right, a thirty-something, fine, rich man asked her to marry him.

She marched over to her closet and pulled out her workout clothes. So what if she hated perky gym instructors. If it wasn’t Michael in her future, it might be the mystery man. But in any case, she would always have herself as her best friend and she wanted to be all that she could be—for her.

Besides, she could get some inside tips on running Pause for Men and what better place than a gym to scope out potential clients.

She giggled, grabbed her never-used gym bag and headed out.

Elizabeth felt like a teen going to her senior prom. Her palms were sweaty and suddenly her closet full of clothes all seemed inappropriate.

“Mom, are you ready yet?” Desiree called out from the living room. “It’s getting late.”

“Do you need some help?” Dawne shouted.

Elizabeth pulled open her bedroom door. “Yes! Help!”

Her daughters laughed and came running.

Desiree stood in the middle of the bedroom,
stunned by the pile of outfits that were dressing the bed instead of her mother. “I had no idea you had this many clothes. Wow.”

“Gee, Mom, you could have a sale and make a mint,” Dawne added in awe, picking up a Chanel sweater with pearl buttons. She held it up to herself and turned to the mirror.

“None of your commentaries are helping the situation,” Elizabeth moaned. She snatched back her sweater. “Give me that.”

“Touchy, touchy.” Dawne squatted on the floor.

Desiree put her hands on her hips and made sweeping observations of the choices. “I say, go casual. You don’t want him getting the wrong idea.”

“Yeah, nothing too low or too short,” Dawne chimed in.

“Forget the pantsuits.” Desiree walked to the bed and plucked the half-dozen suits and put them to the side. “Nothing flashy.” She took out the beaded designer sweaters and palazzo pants.

“Don’t you have any jeans?” Dawne asked.

“Yes, but are jeans appropriate for a…date?” She barely got the word out.

“Of course!” the sisters said in unison.

“Jeans go with everything,” Desiree said.

“As much as they cost these days, they better,” Dawne added.

“So, let’s go with black jeans, a nice boot with a
heel—you know the ones I love—the black suede, and you can dress it up with…” She scanned the bed and pulled out a baby-blue sweater set. She held it up. “This is perfect. Soft, feminine and in style.”

Elizabeth’s brow creased for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Yeah, it says, I’m comfortable and sexy without being in your face with it,” Desiree said, grinning.

Elizabeth blew out a breath, looking from one daughter to the other—perfect, gorgeous bookends. She was so happy and so lucky to have their support. When she told them she was going on a date, they didn’t blink and they hadn’t given her a moment’s grief about the divorce. Matthew may be a jerk but he did give her two beautiful girls. For that she would always be grateful.

“Okay,” Elizabeth finally conceded.

“Now, hurry up so you can go and get back and tell us what happened,” Desiree said.

Elizabeth laughed. “I’ll think about it.” She started for the bathroom to change then stopped and turned. “I guess I should have told you before now, but I’m selling the house.”

“You are? Why?” Dawne asked.

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you both all about it when I get back.”

“But, Ma, where are you going to live?”

She smiled. “At the spa. The top-floor apartment is ready and I’ll be moving in by the end of the month.” She spun away. “Ron’s been working on it. It’s perfect.” She shut the bathroom door behind her.

Desiree and Dawne looked at each other in open-mouthed astonishment.

“Go, Mom!” they chuckled.

Her daughters’ words of encouragement echoed in her mind as Elizabeth drove around the block several times before she was able to find a parking space. It was a beautiful early-summer afternoon, the kind of day that was warm enough to go without a jacket and still not bake in the sunshine. With summer under way, the residents of Manhattan and beyond were out in full force, pushing strollers, inline skating, bike riding, walking designer dogs, couples, singles and the mix-and-match. Everyone was taking advantage of the day, which meant that just about every seat at the outdoor cafés were taken.

She weaved in and out of meanderers in the direction of Isabelle’s, a new restaurant on Ninety-sixth Street and Broadway. The girls recommended it, and if they gave it a thumbs-up, she was sure it was good.

As soon as she approached, she saw Ron standing outside waiting for her. He was looking in the opposite direction, which gave her a few brief moments to take him all in.

He, too, had chosen jeans, a lightweight leather jacket and a button-up oxford shirt in stark white underneath the jacket.

Yum, yum. Get a grip, girl
. She drew in a breath and it all but stuck in her throat when he turned to her and the full wattage of his smile lit up the block. He walked toward her and, before she could exhale, he leaned down and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

His hand was at that low curve at the bottom of her back.

“You look great,” he said.

“Thanks. So do you.”

He chuckled. “Oh, this old thing.”

Elizabeth laughed, breaking that knot that had wrapped itself around her stomach.

“Come on, I got us a table.”

“Outside?”

“Absolutely. No point in coming to one of these places if you can’t get an outside table. Nothing can compare to the sights you see going by during a meal.”

He helped her into her seat. “I hear the food is great.”

“That’s what my daughters told me. And they would know.”

He looked at her. “It’s just so hard to imagine that you have two grown daughters.”

“It’s hard for me to imagine sometimes, too.” She smiled.

“Let’s order. Then we’ll talk. I want to hear it all.”

And she wanted to tell him, she really did. But the voice of wisdom, namely, her mother, whispered, “
Never tell a man everything, it takes the mystery out of being a woman
.” For once she’d take her mother’s advice.

She looked up as the waitress approached to take her order and saw Matthew coming in their direction.

“A
re you okay?” Ron asked, seeing the frozen expression on her face.

“Well, fancy seeing you here. You didn’t waste any time, did you?”

Ron looked up at Matthew then across at Elizabeth. “Can I help you?”

“Seems like you already have…to my wife.”

Ron pushed up from his seat, a slow scowl darkening his face. He cocked his head to the side. “Excuse me?”

“This is between me and Ellie.”

“Only if she wants it to be.”

Elizabeth reached across the table and grabbed Ron’s wrist. “It’s okay.” She looked up at Matthew. “Why don’t you continue in the direction you were heading, Matt. I’m trying to have lunch.”

“Is that all you’re having?”

Ron moved toward him. Elizabeth held tighter,
feeling the muscles in his arm tighten all the way down to his fingertips.

“Matthew, leave.”

He glared from one to the other. “Is this some kind of payback?” He chuckled. “I would have thought you could do better than this, Elizabeth.”

This time Elizabeth couldn’t hold on and the next thing she knew, Ron had Matthew by his shirt collar and had actually lifted him up off the ground. If it weren’t so utterly horrible, she would have laughed at the petrified expression on Matthew’s face.

The patrons at the two tables closest to them jumped up from their seats and backed away.

Elizabeth was on her feet. “Ron, please, he’s not worth it.” She grabbed his upper arm that felt like steel.

“If you ever say another word to this lady that isn’t pleasant, you’ll have me to deal with. I promise you that.” He let him go and Matthew stumbled backward, bumping into a passing couple.

Matthew coughed several times and tugged on his shirt. He glanced around at all the peering eyes. His chest was puffed up so big Elizabeth thought he would explode.

“And to think I wanted you back.” He threw her one nasty look and stormed off.

Ron turned to her. “Are you okay?”

“F-fine,” she stuttered, and slowly sat down.
“Can…we go someplace else?” She didn’t dare look around at the scrutinizing eyes.

“Sure.” He came around and took her arm. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I’m really sorry,” she murmured as they walked down the street.

“Don’t be. He’s a jerk. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I never expected him to act like that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were still married?”

She swallowed. That little bit of wise advice about being mysterious was definitely biting her in the butt now. “I…I guess it’s because I don’t feel like I am. I know I should have said something to you. We’re separated. He left me, months ago, for a younger woman.” She laughed a sad laugh. “Our divorce will be final soon.”

“How long?”

“Twenty-five years.”

“Wow. I’m sorry. I know it has to be hard.”

“I’m getting through it. I just want it to be over.” She glanced up at him. “What exactly were you going to do to him, anyway?”

He grinned. “Toss him across the street.”

Elizabeth giggled. “Did you see the look on his face.”

“Yeah.” He laughed. “It was kind of funny.”

She blew out a breath. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

“I don’t tote all those barges and lift all those bales for nothing.”

Elizabeth laughed and slipped her arm through his. “Know what? I’m starved. And I have the perfect place for us to eat.”

“Lead the way.”

“Girls, this is Ron Powers.” Elizabeth turned to Ron and introduced her daughters.

“You two really are identical.” He smiled and shook their hands.

“I’m Desiree. I’m really the cutest.”

“I’m Dawne. Don’t pay her any attention.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He looked around. “Great place. Your mother told me about it, but it’s much more than I expected.”

“Thanks. We’re really proud of it,” Dawne said.

“She also says the food is great.”

“Mothers never lie,” Desiree said. “Come on, have a seat and we’ll hook you right up.” She showed them to a table.

Desiree brought over the menu. “We’ve added a few new things, Mom. We want to test them out on our customers before we introduce them at the spa, just to see how they go.”

“Great.”

“Well, take your time ordering. Let me or Dawne know when you’re ready.”

Ron studied the menu. “Nice girls. You must be proud.” He looked at her.

“I am.”

“How do they feel about the divorce?”

She set her menu down. “Let’s put it this way, they helped me pick out my outfit.”

He chuckled. “And they have good taste.”

Elizabeth blushed.

Ron reached across the table and put his hand gently on hers. “Listen, whatever is going to happen between us, let’s promise to be honest with each other. That way, no surprises, no disappointments. Deal?”

“Deal.” She paused a moment. “So, is there something that you need to tell me?”

“As a matter of fact, there is….”

Elizabeth was sure she was running in the direction of her house, away from the restaurant, away from Ron, away from the I-don’t-wanna-believe-it story he’d just told her. But, damnit, she hadn’t moved. She couldn’t. Her legs felt like lead and her heart was just as heavy.

“Jail?” Elizabeth expelled on a breath of disbelief. Her throat was so dry, that was all she could get out.

Ron clasped his hands on the table and slowly nodded his head. “I did eighteen months.”

A felon! She would wind up with a felon. “When?” All sorts of ugly images ran through her head. She’d seen
Scared Straight
and several other prison movies, not to mention
Oz
on HBO. Prison! Oh Gawd.

“It wasn’t yesterday, Ellie, not even the day before. It was when I was back in college.”

She did a quick calculation in her head. That had to be well beyond twenty years ago, the seventies, late sixties…pre-AIDS. She was finally able to swallow and eeked out, “Oh.”

“I was a member of the Black Panthers.”

“What? You were?” She could see Ron with a black beret cocked to the side, with a machine gun hanging from his shoulder. Kind of gave her a little thrill. She remembered seeing photographs and news photos of the angry black men who wanted to “take it to America.”

He nodded. “I was a student at the University of Mississippi. How black students were treated, how blacks in general were treated…” He shook his head at the memories. “Anyway, I was determined to do my part for the cause, to rally the young people together. I was holding meetings, sending out newsletters, printing flyers, recruiting.” He blew out a breath. “Someone, and to this day I don’t know who, went to the administration and the administration went straight to the FBI.”

“Oh no.”

“Anyway, one morning there was a knock on my room door, I was put in handcuffs and thrown in jail, charged with conspiracy.”

“What?”

“That’s how things went down back then. It took me nearly two years and a battery of charges to beat the case against me. But as a result, I wound up on the FBI’s watch list.”

“Watch list?”

“Yeah, every now and then I get a visit or a phone call, just to see ‘how I’m doing’” He shrugged. “I’m used to it by now. Part of my life, but I wanted you to know, just in case we are together somewhere and a little man in a dark suit walks up to me.”

“Sounds like something out of a spy movie.” She wasn’t sure if she was appalled or intrigued.

“And now with all the terrorist alerts, alarms, code oranges and the Patriot Act, I’m sure they’re going to step up their game.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve already been paid a visit at my apartment.”

She leaned forward. “Do you think they would come to the spa?”

“It’s possible. But I wouldn’t worry about it. Once the job is finished, they would have no reason to come there. I’ll be gone and they’ll just follow me around like they’ve been doing for the past thirty-plus years.”

“Wow, and I thought you were going to tell me something innocuous like you were allergic to shellfish or something.”

“Not shellfish, cats. You don’t have cats, do you?”

Elizabeth laughed, snapping the rope of tension
that had wrapped around her throat as she’d listened to his story.

“No, I don’t have cats.” She looked at him. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“That’s pretty much it. No secret babies, no ex-wife, no girlfriend. Pretty much what you see is who I am—a hardworking, honest man who wants things to be right in his life and in the world.” He slapped his hand down lightly on the table. “That’s my story.”

“Thank you for telling me. I appreciate it.”

“Is there anything else about you that I should know? Some gross habit?”

She chuckled lightly. “Unfortunately, my life is nowhere near as interesting as yours. I got married straight out of college, put my career on the back burner for my husband and my children.”

“That can’t be it. You make your life sound like you were a Stepford Wife. I can’t believe that about you. What are your interests, hobbies, what career did you kick to the curb?”

“I wanted to run my own business. I wasn’t sure what it was. I knew the things I loved, cooking and decorating. I know, it sounds so frivolous, but…”

“Not at all. What’s wrong with doing what you love, what you enjoy? Look at me, I’m an overgrown kid getting to play with big trucks and hammers and drills.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“So now that you have the opportunity to go after your dream, what are you going to do?”

Her expression softened, her eyes took on a sparkle. “I haven’t spoken to the girls about it yet, but I was thinking that even though I’m the only one of the four of us who hasn’t worked outside of the home, I’m the only with any real in-the-trenches managing skills, from scheduling to meals, to appointments, inventory. You name it. Running a household is like running a small company.”

“So you want to be the spa manager?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“So, go for it. No one else has stepped up, have they?”

“No. We’ve all been so busy just getting the groundwork in place.”

“Listen, when I decided I wanted to get into construction, I didn’t have practical experience. I’d always been ‘the other guy,’ the ‘go-to guy,’ but never the head man in charge. I took out a loan, called on some guys that I’d worked with on some other jobs and went for it.”

“What was your first job?” she asked, more intrigued by him.

“Don’t laugh.”

She made a sign of the cross. “Promise.”

“My mom’s basement.”

“Everybody has to start somewhere.”

There was a momentary pause when they looked into each other’s eyes and then burst out laughing.

“And trust me,” he sputtered, “your mama is your worst customer.” He took a long swallow of his iced tea.

Elizabeth pulled herself together and wiped her eyes with the napkin. “I can only imagine.”

“Well, I hope it’s not our food you’re both laughing at,” Dawne said, stepping up to the table.

Ron looked up. “No, not at all. I was telling your mother about my first contracting job.”

Dawne pulled up a chair and sat down, Desiree followed.

“Ron used to be a Black Panther,” Elizabeth said with a sound akin to pride in her voice.

“Get out!” the girls chimed. “Tell us all about it. That is so cool.”

It didn’t take much prodding from the twins to get Ron to recount his youthful exploits as a l960s militant. The young women were captivated.

“Looks like you’ve worked your charm on my daughters,” Elizabeth said later, as they walked to their respective cars.

They stopped in front of Elizabeth’s car. “You are the only one I’m looking to charm, but your daughters run a close second.” He winked.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She disengaged the alarm on her car and opened the door.

“So…have I scared you off?”

“Not yet,” she said.

“Good. I want to see you again. You name the day and time.”

“Fair enough.” She got in the car, looked up at him. “Friday night. Eight o’clock.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “My treat, wherever you choose.”

“We’ll talk about it during the week.”

“Planning on stopping by to check on me?”

“Actually, I’ll be moving some of my things up into the apartment. I’m sure I’ll need some help.”

He leaned down, pressing his palms against the frame of the open window. “I did mention that I was a handyman?”

Elizabeth giggled. “See you during the week. Thanks for a great afternoon.”

Ron stepped back, slid his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, forcing her eyes to that enticing bulge in his pants. She swallowed and dragged her eyes to his face. She put the car in gear before she said something really dumb like: Come-home-with-me-I-haven’t-had-a-man-in-months. And as she watched him watching her through her rearview mirror, it took all her home training not to make a U-turn and a fool out of herself.

She couldn’t wait to get home and call Barbara.