The Sapphire Pendant (43 page)

His grip on her hand became painful, but she didn’t complain. He held on like a drowning man, afraid his memories might carry him away.
 

“Why did he come to see you?” she asked.

“He said, he came to say goodbye. That he was dying. He said he needed money and if I refused to give it to him he would tell everyone that I was the illegitimate son of a drunk. You know the shame that would have caused my mother, especially in our small community.”

She nodded.

“I know I was a coward, but I couldn’t see you after that. I couldn’t face your honesty with my lies. I couldn’t smile and pretend to be something I wasn’t. I saw Regine and acted like the man I thought I was suppose to be.” He shook his head. “I tried to perfect my facade even more after hurting you. I excelled in school, in work, I even considered marriage.”

“Why didn’t you marry?”

“I thought I’d be honest with this one woman I was going to marry. But when I told her I didn’t have pure Preston blood running through my veins, she didn’t want me. I couldn’t blame her. I have the blood of an alcoholic and that in time I may poison the blood of my offspring.”

“That’s just a gene, Kenneth, that’s not who you are. You’re not your father and you’re not Eddie.”

“But I’m not above them. I have my vices.” He pinned her with an intense gaze, watching for any telling action. “I’ve been going to call girls for over ten years. One in particular.”

Jessie was more surprised than repulsed. “Why?”

“They were the only kind of women I felt free with. They had to sleep with me in spite of the scars.”

“But they’re not that bad.”

“One woman screamed when she saw them. She couldn’t stand the sight of them and apologized for not being able to service me. You said they were horrible.”

“They are but...” She ripped open his shirt, sending buttons flying.

He groaned resigned. “That’s the second shirt you’ve ruined.”

“I wanted to see the scars.”

He pulled off a button that hung at an odd angle. “You could have asked.”

“Take off your shirt, please.”

“Why? Okay! Wait, wait I can take it off myself.” He stood and took off his shirt, his eyes defiant. “There.”

She had prepared herself, but his scars still came as a shock: the discolored skin, the raised marks, the sections where flesh seemed to have been ripped away. And yet because they were his they were no longer hideous. “Can I touch them?”

He gave a terse nod.

Her hands felt cool against him. Their exploration painful, making his scars real—almost alive. No one had ever touched him like this, gently, tenderly. A whisper in his mind told him he didn’t deserve it, didn’t need it, and reminded him that he hadn’t given her anything for her to treat him with such regard. But for once he didn’t care, he wanted to be selfish, wanted to believe this was real.
 

He closed his eyes, fighting back the torment of memories as she touched his back. The scars seemed to speak in his father’s voice:
You’re worthless trash. You make me sick. No one will want you. You’ll amount to nothing because you are nothing
.

“Breathe,” she whispered her breath warm against his skin.
 

His memories slowly faded, his misery vanishing into something else—something beautiful. Her hands felt like magic, a balm to his scars, taking their pain with each gentle, searching touch. He began to feel whole. Like a man, not a trophy with the guarantee of status or a client with the promise of cash, but a man. He trembled at the warm wet pressure of her lips. “What are you doing?”

“Kissing your bruises.”

He spun around. “I have something better for your lips to do.” He captured her mouth, caressing it more than kissing it.

They fell on the bed a frenzied passion consuming them.

He removed the straps of her teddy. “Dear god, tell me you brought protection.”
 

She dug into the coat pocket, taking out a handful of condoms.

He chuckled. “Expecting a long night?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll do it,” she said when he reached for one.

“Be gentle.”

“I will.” She ripped open the package then paused. She’d practiced on a cucumber, but the real thing just didn’t seem the same. It was larger, more there. She held the condom taut and thought about the best way to put it on him. It suddenly slipped through her fingers like a slingshot, whizzing across the room. It hit the far wall and stuck then slowly fell to the ground.

They didn’t speak.
 

Kenneth tried to keep a straight face. “First bras now condoms. I think you’ve created a new sport.”

Heat burned her cheeks. She’d practiced the seduction scene in her mind for days only to humiliate herself. “I’m nervous. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

He controlled his face, sensing her embarrassment. “You can try again.” He handed her a condom. “Go on.”

She opened the condom and held it above him.

He laughed. “You’re going to have to touch me eventually. Roll it on.”

She hesitated.

He grabbed her hand and put it on him. “Not so bad, see?”

She touched it tentatively then grew bolder, running her fingers up and down. “Very impressive.”

He took a deep breath. “Put it on, Jas or I might come before I’m inside you.”

She rolled it on then wrapped her arms around his neck. “There.”

He pulled her close and kissed her again. He’d had sex before, but tonight his body burned with a different fevered passion, leaving his skin tender, vulnerable to everything about her: her scent, her lips, her body. He remembered when he was young and still allowed himself to feel, he’d climbed a tree enjoying the scent of wet bark and the gentle whisper of leaves and at that moment he had felt he belonged. That it was okay to be alive. That if he could meld his body into its trunk he could live forever.
     
He felt the same way now. They were one. For one night he was a man without scars, without secrets. He was a man welcomed into the revered garden of the woman he would forever cherish. With every kiss, every touch of his mouth and his hands, he told her how he loved her. Inside her he thanked her for her gift, worshipping her, seeking to fill her with pleasure. When the night began to welcome morning, he finally left the warmth inside her, his body limp with pleasure and closed his eyes.

Jessie lay wide awake barely able to breathe, afraid the man next to her might disappear. He was like a fey and bewitching form of the sky with its mystery and majesty as he lay still next to her. She had never known such ecstasy. She had not known that their physical forms could couple their souls. She had met the true Kenneth, the one without his many masks, and saw how beautiful he was. How much she loved him.

She touched his shoulder, knowing he was still awake. “Tired?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Are you okay?”

He shook his head.

She sat up alarmed. Had she overworked him or something? She leaned over him and saw his eyes were closed. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

He nodded. “I’m thinking of all the money I wasted when I could have just waited for you.”

She relaxed. “Let’s just say they kept you in good form.”

He looked at her. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“You’re okay?”

She saw the spots of blood before he did. She covered herself with the sheets embarrassed. “A little sore,” she said lightly.

His eyes grew soft. “Don’t be embarrassed with me okay?”

She nodded and allowed him to take the sheets.

He winced when he saw the red smudges between her legs. “Sorry about that, I got a little carried away.”

She nibbled on the sensitive part of his ear. “I like when you get carried away. It’s quite a ride.” She glanced down and saw scattered brown beads. Her bracelet had snapped. She scooped them up and set them aside. “Unfortunately, it has left a casualty,” she said.
 

“I’ll get it fixed,” he said.

He stood and went to the bathroom and came back with a warm rag and began gently wiping the blood away.
 

“You don’t have to—”

“Shh.” He kissed his way up the inside of her thigh. She watched him amazed that this beautiful man was honoring her womanhood in such a way.

“Kenneth, what are you doing?” she asked, feeling his rough check against her thigh. Her toes curled when he kissed her center.

He lifted his head. His eyes dark with a love he could never express. “I’m kissing your bruises away.”

* * *

Jessie woke to the sound of papers being shuffled and the smell of Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee. She opened her eyes and saw the familiar yellow of her bedroom walls. She blinked and turned her head. Kenneth sat next to her reading, fully dressed. He looked at her then kissed her forehead. “Good morning. I have to go to work.”

She tugged on his tie. “Then what are you doing here?”

“I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”
 

She rested her cheek on his thigh. “Thank you.”

He stroked her hair. “You’re welcome.” He groaned. “Don’t do that Jas. I have to go to work.”

She removed her wandering hand from his leg. “Sorry.”

“I put your bracelet on the side table. I tried to restring it.” He stood. “Meet me for lunch at Rolland’s I at twelve-thirty. I’ll treat you and Syrah.”

He was out the door before she could reply.

Syrah had plans to see Daniel and his mother, so Jessie went to Rolland’s by herself. She couldn’t believe she was nervous to see him again. She tried to control the trembling hands in her lap as she sat at a booth in Rolland’s I, but it was useless. She glanced around the I; it had large booths made of wood, plush seats and large windows. It was a place popular with young professionals and senior citizens with enough money to splurge.
 

She checked her reflection in the window, hoping she didn’t have any lipstick on her teeth or that her hair wasn’t a mess. She wondered if other women felt this jittery meeting their lover after a delicious night of lovemaking. She took a deep breath. Was it really lovemaking? He hadn’t told her he loved her, but who cared? A night like that made up for words and she hoped his feelings for her would grow in time. She began to relax, listening to the hum of voices around her.

“Personally, I think it’s all a farce,” a woman said in the booth behind her. “I bet you that wedding won’t even happen. I mean Kenneth doesn’t even act like a man in love.”

Jessie scowled, recognizing Deborah’s voice.

“What do you mean?” Tracy asked.

“I mean, if a man was in love with me, he wouldn’t spend every waking moment in the office. He would kiss me at every opportunity and buy me lots of gifts.” Her voice lowered. “Jessie doesn’t even have any jewelry or a new car.”

“He gave her that necklace.”

“On loan probably. You haven’t seen her wear it recently, have you? And they didn’t even attend Marva’s party. Anybody, who’s anybody, goes to Marva’s parties to at least show their face. No, take my word for it, something fishy’s going on.”

Jessie peeked over the booth. “You know I never realized my life was so interesting. You never come up in any of my conversations.”

Deborah jumped, dropping her fork into her salad. She rolled her eyes. “You really need to stop listening in on other people’s private conversations.”

Jessie narrowed her eyes. “If you stopped gossiping people won’t be forced to listen in.”

“I don’t gossip.” She dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “You and I both know that your engagement is a farce. In a few weeks your fake engagement will be over.”

Jessie draped her arms over the back of the booth, showing off her stunning ring. “You’re absolutely right.”

Deborah tapped the table in triumph. “I knew it! He’d never marry you. It wouldn’t make sense. He’s an important man. He needs a woman of refined breeding, excellent manners, and superb taste in both clothes and I. You could pass for a while then you’d probably serve caviar on a silver spoon or something.”

“Yes, and that would mark him for life.”
 

“Why the pretense?”

Jessie lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “It’s rather silly. I told him I wouldn’t sleep with him otherwise.”

She stared. “You mean you two—”

Jessie put a finger to her lips. “I’m not one to kiss and tell.”

A waiter approached the table. He was young, trying unsuccessfully to grow a mustache, and his coffee skin was ruddy like a constant blush. “Was everything to your liking, ladies?” he asked, placing the bill between the plates.
 

“Everything is absolutely delicious,” Deborah breathed, caressing the waiter with her eyes. He tugged at his collar and smiled shyly. “I’m happy to hear that.” He backed away from the table, crashing into a waitress carrying a tray. She got a handle on it before it toppled then sent the waiter a disgusted glare.
 

Jessie shook her head. “Do you get great pleasure in turning men into doddering idiots?” She watched the poor waiter get scolded by his supervisor.

Deborah smiled. “Jealous?”

She straightened her ring. “I have no need to be.”

Her lips thinned. “I don’t believe you.”

“I really don’t care what you believe. I’ve come to learn that the word of a Wester is as nourishing as acid.”

Deborah opened her mouth then closed it. “You’re pathetic. This is America. Unless you’re a Kennedy or the child of some celebrity nobody gives a damn about your name. Besides you certainly have nothing to brag about. Your father was nothing but a strange man who fixed jewelry and your mother was a pseudo-socialite who helped the poor. You can sleep with the Kenneth’s of this world and they’ll enjoy you for awhile like most men do.” She raised a brow. “I don’t know if you know this, but lying down doesn’t mean you’ll climb up the ladder.”

Jessie swallowed, but said nothing.

“Oh and if you do happen to convince Kenneth to marry you, perhaps Aunt Rhonda will give you the pendant as a wedding present.”

Jessie opened her mouth to tell her where the pendant could go, when Kenneth approached the table.