Soulmates Dissipate (29 page)

Maid not matron. Jada was genuinely happy for her girlfriend. If Candice hadn’t invited her to Will Downing’s concert over a year ago, Jada probably wouldn’t have met Wellington. Neither would Candice have met Terrell. They should have been planning a double wedding and reception. Tension throbbed at Jada’s temples, so she pressed firmly, repressing the pain.

Handing Jada her drink, the cashier curled Jada’s fingers over the ten-dollar bill. “The gentleman in the tan suit prepaid for you and your
friend. What would you like?” she asked Candice, then turned back to Jada.” Oh, and he told me to give you this.”

Jada flipped the card over and read, “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Lowering Jada’s arm, Candice said to the cashier, “I’ll have a café latte with steamed soy milk.” Looking at her friend, she continued, “Terrell says I’m lactose intolerant and shouldn’t consume dairy products. See, girl, you’re reeling the men in already.” Candice peeped at the front of the card.” Impressive.”

Jada had already checked out the man with the immaculately trimmed beard. His teddy bear love handles seemed to snuggle under a sheer layer of confidence. He wasn’t Wellington, but the brother was tall, sexy, and distinguished. He looked like money. Smelled like money, too, when he walked by and winked. His cologne wafted by her, alluringly fresh and clean; not harsh, bold, or like a cheap bar of soap. His nails were manicured. A watch and a ring adorned his left wrist and pointing finger. Diamonds and platinum. Not colored stones and gold. Casually scanning and assessing a man from head to toe was one of Jada’s greatest diva techniques. Maybe she’d call him next week after her furniture was delivered.

Although her coochie, aka Lady C, craved affection, Wellington’s semen was the only sperm Jada honestly wanted swimming inside her paradise. His lips were the only ones she wanted pressed against her lips, her breasts, and her clit. The idea of getting to know someone new sucked. New issues. Unbearable habits. Why hadn’t she followed her first thought and rented a car. Now she was
trapped with Candice for the rest of the day. With a sigh, she left the coffee shop and headed for baggage claim.

Helping Jada retrieve her luggage, Candice recovered the suitcase from the conveyor belt and rolled it to her car.” Stay with us until you get settled,” she suggested as they got in the car and left the parking lot.

Homelessness was a better alternative than watching Candice mimic the housewife role of Florida Evans from
Good Times.”
I’d love to, but I can’t. I need solitude.” Jada paused for a moment, watching the cars in the fast lane zoom by. Lowering the visor to block the sun, Jada sipped her drink and said, “Candice, I know you dislike Wellington because he cheated on me, but you have no idea how much I love him. It hurts me when you brag about how perfect your world is while constantly reminding me how fucked up my situation is.”

Candice’s head snapped to the right.” Girl, where did that come from?”

Ignoring the question, Jada continued, “I’m not desperate to find another man, to get hitched, or to get laid.” Okay, maybe the getting laid part wasn’t true, because her menstrual cycle was due, and she was so horny the friction between her thighs could bring her to a climax.” Besides, everything I had planned for my wedding, you’re using for yours, including exchanging soulmate rings. And what’s up with the marquis diamond ring. That was my favorite cut, not yours. But not once have I protested, and I’m not complaining now. And another thing, you need to stop telling Terrell
everything
I tell you. Am I your daily soap opera topic of
conversation? You know Terrell and Darryl are still friends.” Finally Jada had said what she’d held in far too long. Slowly her migraine started subsiding.

Jada seldom heard from Darryl Williams, but he called—even if he was on the road with his NBA teammates—whenever Terrell updated him on her latest happenings. Friendships with her ex-men were common and important, but she detested when Darryl delivered a verbatim report to her about herself.

Candice had been her girlfriend since third grade, but ever since she’d met and moved in with Terrell, their closeness had become a triangle when it came to secrets. Candice boasted about Terrell’s bedroom skills in such detail, Jada felt as if she’d fucked him, too. The head of his penis was smaller than the shaft. The base of his penis was thinner than his shaft, almost like the shape of green zucchini. His nuts were the size of two mouth-sized gumballs when they shriveled up. And his cum tasted natural, like vanilla extract, except when he drank beer. Now Jada understood why Daddy used to say, “Never tell your girlfriend how good your man is in bed because she will find out behind your back.” Fortunately for Candice, Jada had access to dicks through her
reserve
list, to which Wellington had become her newest active reserve member.

“Whew! Girl, you are right. You do need solitude. I’ll try not to be so happy when I’m around
you.”
Faster than a stunt man on fire, Candice did a stop, drop, and roll. She parked in front of the hotel but didn’t get out of her car.” I’ll tell my husband you said hello. Call me tomorrow. Bye, girl.”
Candice drove away so fast the tailwind literally closed the trunk.

What was up with wearing out the word
husband
’? They weren’t married yet, and Candice was so blinded by love she couldn’t see that Terrell was obviously content reaping all the benefits of a married man while maintaining a singles’ lifestyle.

After checking in, Jada raced to her room. Before the frappé settled in her stomach, the chilled liquid poured from her mouth. Leaning over the toilet, Jada heaved repeatedly. She removed her clothes and showered, letting the water rinse the residue from her mouth. Then she turned off the water, stepped onto the rug, and dried her hands on the plush white towel. Admiring her dripping-wet radiant onyx complexion in the mirror, Jada punched in zero zero one on her cell phone, tossed back the floral comforter, pressed the talk button, and sprawled across the white sheets as her skin air dried.

“Hi, ba. I’m glad you made it in safely. It’s so good hearing your voice. I miss you already.” Wellington’s captivating tone made her forget all about her pains.

“Yeah, I miss you, too.” If not for the static in the line, their connection would have been undetectable. Dead silence. A million thoughts stirred in Jada’s mind, but she didn’t know what to say next. She’d terminated her relationship with Wellington. She wasn’t going back to him, and she was tired of discussing his infidelity. But she also missed the hell out of being with her man. Ex-man.

“When are you coming back to Oakland?” His seductiveness drew a prompt response.

“Next week. To get my car.” A coochie deluxe tune-up wouldn’t hurt either because she loved experiencing those sex-released endorphins, those hormones that made her feel like dancing and singing. Wellington’s lovemaking made Jada happy to cook breakfast, lunch, or dinner anytime of the day or night. Hell, sometimes she even vacuumed the whole house or jogged around Lake Merritt, waving and smiling at adults, kids, seagulls, geese, and the sparse flamingos. But Jada also needed to visit Dr. Bates to take a pregnancy test. Her sickness was never accompanied by vomiting, so Jada suspected the worse and prayed for the best.

“Call and let me know when you’re coming. I’ll help you drive back. And maybe you’ll come over for dinner before you leave? That’s if you’re finished boycotting and egging my place.”

Jada laughed.” Cheap shot. Anyway, the last time Chef à la Wellington charcoaled steaks into brittle bits, we ended up eating out.”

“If I recall correctly, my Nubian—”

Covering her free ear, Jada screamed with laughter.” Don’t say it!” Jada didn’t want Wellington to remind her how her quasigourmet meal had been so horrid she washed her food and his down the garbage disposal. The salmon croquettes had been harder than hockey pucks, so Wellington had dropped one on the dining room floor, grabbed the broom, and handed her the sponge mop.

After Wellington’s first bite of her pecan-orange bundt cake, he’d said, “Um, you’ve got to taste this. Close your eyes and open your mouth.” Then he’d promised, “You’re going to love this.” When
the dessert hit her palate, each of her five senses had protested. Jada had darted her eyes in search of a place to quickly spit it out because she definitely wasn’t going to swallow a lump that tasted worse than earwax. They had then fallen to the kitchen floor laughing until their insides cramped, their saliva exchanged between hungry lips, and their knees became sore from making love on the linoleum all night long.

Jada pictured Wellington’s dazzling smile, bald head, thick eyebrows, goatee, and his eight pack. Soft hairs outlined his chest and every crevice in his abdomen. His perfectly erect nipples were five shades darker than his caramel complexion. His gentle touch, sensuous lips, passionate kisses, and orgasmic lovemaking were unforgettable. His firm ass, two-hundred-and-twenty-pound, six-foot-four physique, and seductive mannerisms were etched in her brain forever.

Breaking their silence, he said, “Call me in the morning, ba. I’ll talk with you later.”

Melting at the hearty sound of his voice, Jada felt the words “I love you” suspend in air and surround her spirit.” What are you wearing?”

Wellington whispered, “A smile and a hard-on that’s begging for your affection.”

“Wet your fingers and massage the head for me.” Jada eased her fingers into her mouth and did the same to her clit.

“Ooh, yeah. I’m stroking
The Ruler.
He’s growing an extra inch just for you, ba. Open your chocolate thighs wide so I can taste you.”

Jada missed how they used to role-play. Her fondest memory was when she’d dressed like a Jamaican and flirted with Wellington in a Carib
bean accent at the Farmers’ Market. She convinced him to buy exotic fruits that she’d feasted on, off of his succulent flesh outside by his swimming pool during sunset.

“I’m pulling your face in closer, Big Daddy. Trace Mama’s rabbit ears with your juicy tongue. Nice and slow.” Jada moaned into the receiver as she enjoyed the external orgasm continuously seeping from her clitoris.

“Damn, ba, all of this cream is for you. Your hairs are marinating in my cum. Rub it in,” he commanded.

“I’m flowing with you. Sip in my last drops.” Jada caressed the moisture between her inner lips and slid her index finger into her vagina, welcoming the strong pulsation accompanying her internal orgasm.

Deep inside, her pussy knocked hard like an out-of-control, overloaded washer machine on a fast spin cycle. That was the results of her daily vaginal weight lifting. The gold ben-wa balls were no longera challenge, so one day while visiting the pleasure store, the owner had introduced Jada to the ceramic and smooth wooden eggs. Jada had charged both sets and the instruction manual to her Visa. At first learning muscle control to simultaneously move the ceramic eggs in opposite directions, left and right, and up and down, was difficult. But after Jada started stringing the one-pound weight into the bottom opening of the wooden egg and lifting and holding it with her vaginal muscles, rotating the ceramic eggs was a synch. Jada’s clenching drove Wellington so nuts his orgasmic groans intensified, sounding like The
Rock lifting and then body slamming Stone Cold Steve Austin during a WWF Championship match.

“Say you love me.”

“I love you, Wellington Jones.” More than he’d ever know, and at the moment more than she was willing to admit. Her soul magnetically absorbed his spiritual energy.

“I love you, too, ba. I’m gonna go clean up this wonderful mess you’ve created. Don’t forget to call and let me know when you’re coming to get your car. Good night, my Nubian Queen.”

“Yes, it is a very good night.” Jada recharged her cell phone on the nightstand and continued lying sideways across the jumbo-size mattress. She cried hard into her pillow so the people in the adjacent room wouldn’t hear her sobbing. Why did she keep crying over Wellington when she didn’t want him? How long would her head and heart remain out of sync? The old man on the plane had given her a lot to think about. Should Jada abandon her pride in order to salvage their love? Or give up Wellington and maintain her dignity?

Mary B. Morrison woke up one morning in 1999 and decided it was time for her to step out on faith. It was time to stop talking about her dream and start living her dream to become a critically acclaimed best-selling author. From that moment forward, she has lived by the words to which she subscribed—“I’d rather die a failure than to have lived and never known whether I would become a success.” Her commitment convinced others to do the same, and she encourages each and every one of you to live your dreams.

After working for the government for eighteen years, Mary quit her job on June 3, 2000, and never looked back. Earning a GS-14 salary of seventy-five thousand dollars a year was no incentive for this risk-taker to continue working nine-to-five. Neither was the GS-15 promotional salary of over ninety thousand dollars a year that she was on a career track to receive. Before she resigned, Mary prepared her foundation and wrote
soulmates Dissipate
in four months—at night and on the weekends—while simultaneously caring for her wonderful son, Jesse.

Mary’s motivation to fulfill her dream is driven by a greater humanitarian purpose. She envisions
that her hometown high school, McDonogh #35 Senior High in New Orleans, Louisiana, will raise the bar for public schools across America by instituting programs to support the following: (1) a scholarship club to achieve 100 percent college placement; (2) a financial investment club (FIC) for teachers to teach each student how to invest money; (3) a mentoring program; (4) a support system for teachers; and (5) a program which allows students to travel abroad to broaden their educational horizon.

Ms. Morrison currently resides in the Washington, D.C., metropolitan area. To contact Mary, visit her website at:

www.marymorrison.com.