Cementing Herself...
Victoria greeted Ted wearing an over-sized Spelman sweatshirt and black shorts that exposed her bruised leg. She quickly ushered him in, shielding herself from the cold air outside.
When he walked in he immediately noticed the change. It was her hair. It was different, not the way she usually wore it. Today, it was a thick mass of glistening waves, in a style he found slightly wild and very sexy. He loved it.
Victoria hobbled along behind him as he walked straight back to the kitchen, like it was something he did every day. “You look like an old pro on those crutches,” Ted joked, unpacking the bags of food.
“Yeah, I hope I can ditch them next week, once the swelling goes down.”
They stood for a moment, staring at each other. Victoria could feel his eyes penetrating her.
“Your hair. It's different?” he smiled, looking at her head as if trying to figure out the answer to a riddle.
Victoria wanted to laugh because she knew that black hair was a mystery to most white people, and
how
exactly black women could change their hairstyle and lengths from day to day was an enigma in itself. She'd washed her hair the night before and let it dry naturally, not blow drying it straight as she normally did. “Black women go through all sorts of machinations with our hair,” she said.
Ted wanted to ask her what kind of machinations, but he decided against it. “I think it looks very nice. I like it,” he ended up saying.
Victoria watched Ted as he moved about her kitchen with ease. He was wearing dark denim and a sky blue cable-knit sweater. She thought the color made his blue eyes come alive. And she noticed his scent again. It was the same woodsy fragrance she'd smelled yesterday. It suited him; not too overpowering, not too subtle.
They decided to eat in the den. Ted arranged the assortment of breakfast goodies on a large oval serving platter and sat it in the middle of the coffee table. “It all looks so good,” Victoria said. “You made a great choice, I love croissants.”
“I'm glad you approve.” When he sat down beside her, Victoria reached for his plate and began to pile on the food. “You don't have to do that,” he said.
“I'm an old fashioned southern girl, and this is called southern hospitality.” Victoria handed Ted his plate and then prepared her own. “Excuse me,” she whispered, bowing her head to say her grace. When she looked up, Ted was staring at her. “Does that offend you?” She knew that religion in any form made some people very uncomfortable. She hoped he wasn't one of them.
“No, it's just that I haven't seen anyone pray before eating in a long time.”
“Do you believe in God?” she asked, popping a piece of fresh pineapple into her mouth. Victoria knew she was being blunt and probably a little intrusive, but she wanted to know.
“Yes, I do. Church on Sunday was a rule in my house when I was growing up. But to be honest, I can't remember the last time I went to church or practiced any form of organized religion.”
“Do you pray?”
Ted smiled and reached for a croissant. “Sometimes.” He thought about the small prayer he'd said yesterday when he was waiting for her in the emergency room.
Victoria looked at him for a long moment. “God hears your prayers even when you don't say them out loud, when you think them in your heart . . . if you believe.” She didn't know why she was talking to him in this deeply personal way, but somehow it felt as natural as breathing air.
She was cementing herself in his heart without even knowing it. She was asking him questions and telling him things that no other woman had ever cared to share or say. “That's comforting to know,” was all he could manage in return.
“Am I being too? . . .”
“Nosy?” he teased as they both laughed. “No, I enjoy your company, and I enjoyed yesterday. Not your accident, of course. But it made me feel good being able to help you after what happened. Especially since it was my fault. I'm so sorry.”
“Ted, please stop apologizing. Besides, after the way I acted,” she paused from slight embarrassment, “with the pills and everything, I should be the one apologizing to you.”
“Nonsense,” Ted shrugged, shaking his head. “I'm just glad you're okay. Are you comfortable now?” He reached over and propped a throw pillow under her ankle. “The doctor said you should keep your ankle elevated.” His eyes focused on her leg. He put his plate to the side and knelt before her, inspecting her injuries just as the doctor had done. “May I,” he asked, moving his hand toward her leg.
Victoria didn't know what he intended to do but she said, “Yes.”
He gently stroked her bandaged ankle, then her bruise covered thigh, smoothing in the remains of the thick, medicated cream she had unsuccessfully tried to apply. “The doctor said it should be smoothed directly onto the wounds. I'm not hurting you, am I?” he asked in a low and soothing voice.
“No,” Victoria answered back in the same tone. She liked the way his touch made her feel.
What in the hell is wrong with me? I'm enjoying this!
Once Ted finished, he returned to the couch, sitting closer to her this time.
Victoria couldn't believe she was sharing breakfast with him on her sofa. This definitely wasn't her idea of what her relationship with Ted Thornton would be like. But when she looked at him she didn't see a colleague or a CEO. All she saw was an interesting, attractive man. “How old are you?” she asked.
“How old do you think I am?”
“I know you've been in the telecom industry for over twenty years, and you were recruited into corporate right out of B School from Harvard . . . ”
“You've done your homework. What else do you know?”
Victoria gave him a sly wink. “I'm gonna say forty-four. . . forty-five.”
“Very good, I'm forty-five.”
“Wow.”
For some reason, her “
Wow”
made him feel old. “What does
wow
mean?” he asked, munching on his croissant.
“It's just that you look much younger.”
“Good save.”
“No, I'm serious. I guessed your age because I knew your background, but if I didn't, I'd think mid to late thirties . . . easy.”
Ted tried to hide his delight. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Do you have children?”
“No, I don't.”
“Why not? I only ask because I see how you are . . . I mean, how kind you are. Despite your corporate suit of armor, you're a very patient, gentle person. You'd make a great father.”
He took a sip of his orange juice. “Thank you,” he said, almost as an afterthought. He let the question and her compliment breeze by, hoping to avoid the subject.
“So, either tell me to mind my own business or satisfy my curiosity,” Victoria pushed. She wasn't going to stop until she got an answer, or he backed her down.
“It's a long story.”
“I love long stories over good food.”
To his surprise, Ted found himself telling Victoria about his marriage to Trudy. About how she'd deceived him, and how their life together was a big sham. He even admitted to having indiscretions of his own, a result of their separate lives. Victoria looked for a sign of anger, bitterness, sadness or anything that reflected the gut wrenching hurt of a shattered love. But she saw nothing. He was virtually emotionless in the telling of his story, as if he had extrapolated the ability to feel from the last two decades of his life.
“My God, Ted. How could you stay in a loveless marriage for all these years?”
“At first I was worried about my reputation and my career. Now I'm worried about my money. I should've divorced her a long time ago, but now I have entirely too much to lose. Especially given that I'm five months away from having control and part ownership of the company.”
Ted had managed to keep Trudy in the dark about the true extent of the wealth he'd accumulated over the years. He had no intention of splitting any of his material possessions, from the rental properties in LA and fifty percent ownership in his friend Barry's consulting firm, to the significant stock and real estate holdings in Boston that he'd inherited when his father passed away several years ago. “I won't let her take anything else from me,” he said.
“Ted, she's taken your freedom and your joy. I'm speaking from experience, from what I went through in my last relationship. You've got to let it go and free yourself. That's the only way you'll be able to really enjoy life again.”
Ted shook his head.
Where have you been all my life?
he wanted to ask. “You've given me a lot to think about, Victoria.”
They ate, listened to music, and talked well into the late afternoon. They discovered that they shared many things in common. They talked about how they'd grown up, their families and friends, and their likes and dislikes on everything from sports to politics. Victoria told him the details of her relationship with Steven, and the emotional pain she'd suffered from it. But she kept silent about her plans with Divine Occasions. Finally, after spending over half of his day with Victoria, Ted reluctantly left for home. “Remember to follow the doctor's orders, I'll be checking on your progress,” he smiled before heading out the door.
Later that evening, Victoria thought about Ted. She remembered how he made her feel when he rubbed her leg. He knew how to touch a woman just so. There was something hidden and seductive in his fingertips. It was slightly erotic and had made the seat of her panties wet.
But she reminded herself that he wasn't a viable option. He was a sign that screamed STOP: CAUTION AHEAD! So she concentrated on putting him out of her mind, allowing her thoughts to turn to Mr. Gorgeous. He was out there, somewhere. She remembered that the night she'd seen him in the restaurant, he hadn't been wearing a wedding band. Ted was married, but he didn't wear a ring, so that wasn't a solid indicator of commitment. The woman he'd been with that evening could have been his girlfriend, fiancée, or just a casual lover. Victoria didn't know and didn't care because she could still dream, and there was no harm in that. Thinking about him, she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.