Your Love Is King (23 page)

After the tone, I said, “Chris, um, it’s Marli. Please call me back. Okay, bye.”

I laid the phone down and stared at it for a few seconds.
Please God, let it not be too late.
I stood from the table, but before I could take one step, my phone began to buzz. I picked it up and checked the screen. It was Chris. My hand trembled, and my heart raced as I pressed the button to accept the call and put the phone up to my ear.

“Hello?” I said softly.

“Hello? Marli?” Chris replied.

I closed my eyes and sighed. It was all I could do not to cry. He sounded
so good
. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“Wow, I’m glad you called. We were doing a sound check and I didn’t hear my phone. When I saw a missed call from you, I thought I was hallucinating. I can’t believe it’s really you. Man, you sound good. How’ve you been?”

“I’m fine. You sound like you’re doing better.”

“I am. I’m
a lot
better, actually, but I miss you. I’m so glad to hear from you.”

“I… I miss you, too. Um, we need to talk. You know, whenever you get a free moment. I know you’re busy on the road.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda hectic, but I’m learning so much from Herb. He’s an awesome musician. He wants me to join the band full time.”

I gulped. “Oh, well, that’s great, Chris. I knew he’d be impressed with you.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Chris said, “Hey, I talked to my mom the other day and she said you moved back to Arkansas.”

“Yeah, Hot Springs.”

“You like it?”

“I love it. It’s beautiful here.”

“I’ve heard. Look, I really wanna see you, Marli. I wish you would come to the show tonight.”

“Um, where is it? I’m really not too big on long-distance driving or flying these days.”
Because I’m pregnant
.

“Well, God must be in the plan because we’re in Arkansas. Little Rock. At the Peabody. Will you come? I’ll leave a ticket at the door for you.”

I looked down at my belly. This wasn’t exactly how I’d planned on him finding out about the baby. But then again, I really didn’t have a plan for that at all, did I?

Maybe I should just go ahead and tell him now.
“Chris—”

“I just wanna see you, and this way we can talk face-to-face. Will you come?”

I sighed. “Um, okay. What time does the show start?”

“Nine. I’m gla
d you’re coming. See you then.”

Twenty-Five

“Soldier of Love”

Dressed in a knee-length, black, trapeze-style dress and modest, black heels, I entered the ballroom at The Peabody and snagged a table near the back. I surveyed the room, ordered a ginger ale from a passing waiter, and awaited the start of the show.

Twenty minutes later, the sold-out room darkened and was filled with the low murmurs of an excited crowd of jazz enthusiasts. I leaned forward and tried to convince myself that I didn’t need to use the restroom when I knew that I did. I decided to try and hold it through the first half of the show. I didn’t want to risk losing my table or miss a single note of music, so I gripped my legs tightly together and clapped my hands as the announcer took to the small stage.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to a night of smooth jazz at The Peabody!” said the short, stocky Hispanic man. “Sit back, relax, and enjoy the sounds of the Herb Gentry Ensemble!”

I watched as the spotlight spread to reveal the entire band. There were two keyboardists, a drummer, an acoustic guitar player, a trombone player, Herb Gentry, himself, on saxophone, and Chris to the right of Herb with his trumpet. I had to fight back tears when I saw him. He looked good,
very good
—like the sunshine after a bad thunderstorm. His hair now fell to his shoulders and he was sporting a neat goatee. He wore a black suit and black dress shirt—unbuttoned to reveal his toned chest. Around his neck hung a platinum chain and on his wrist, a matching bracelet which gleamed beneath the stage lights.

I wiped a single tear from my cheek and thanked God that the room was dark and that I was too far back for anyone to notice me.

Throughout the first half of the performance, my eyes were glued to Chris. I smiled through my tears as he played his trumpet in his usual way—with eyes tightly closed and his head tilted to the left, almost resting on his shoulder, his right foot tapping in time with the rhythm of the drum. For me, the main attraction was not the famous Mr. Gentry but the beautiful Christopher Ethan King. As I watched him perform, every feeling I’d ever felt for him came flooding back.

Between sets, I hurried to the restroom and found myself at the end of a ridiculously long line. As the line crept slowly along, I leaned against the wall and shut my eyes as I rubbed my belly.

“Are you expecting?” A voice asked.

I opened my eyes and saw that it was the woman in line directly in front of me.

I nodded. “Um, yes, I am.”

“Oh, how sweet! How far along?” the petite, older lady asked.

I rubbed my fingers through my now huge and unruly afro and smiled. “Um, five and a half months.”

“Well, you look beautiful. You’re absolutely glowing.”

I smiled again. “Thank you.”

“I tell you what, go on ahead of me. I know how it is to be pregnant. I have four children of my own. Of course, they’re all grown, and now I have six grandchildren.”

I moved ahead of her in line. “Well, you’re very blessed.”

She nodded. “Yes, I am, and so are you. Your husband must be thrilled.”

I only offered her a weak smile in response. Luckily, it was my turn to enter a stall so I just turned and thanked her again and headed to the toilet.

As I walked back into the ballroom and settled into my seat, I didn’t notice that several members of the band were already up on stage. I also didn’t notice that one of those band members was Chris… and I didn’t notice
him
noticing
me
. I sat there quietly, looking around the room at the others at their tables—mostly couples out for a night together—and felt a little pang of loneliness. I turned my attention back to the stage as the sound of microphone feedback filled the room.

“Um, we’ll need another five or ten minutes, everyone. Just hang tight,” said Herb Gentry.

I watched as he whispered something to Chris and then as Chris left the stage and walked straight to my table. I leaned forward and placed my hands on the table to steady them. My heart hammered in my chest as he stood directly in front of me and stared down at me.

“Hey,” he said softly.

The look in his eyes almost made me come undone. He was the same Chris. He looked the same, sounded the same, and smelled the same. And my feelings for him were the same.
I loved him.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of his as he sat across from me at the table. “Hey,” I said, barely above a whisper.

“You are altogether beautiful, my darling; there is no flaw in you,” he said.

I smiled. “Song of Solomon?”

He nodded. “Chapter four, verse seven.” He placed his hand over mine and returned my smile. “You look so beautiful. A real sight for sore eyes.”

I shifted my eyes to our joined hands. “Thanks. You look good, too.”

“I’m glad you called. It was good to hear your voice. I, um, tried to call you a few times. Never could get you.”

My eyes met his again. “I’m sorry about that. I guess I just thought we didn’t have anything to talk about.”

He raised his eyebrows.  “And now we do?”

“Yeah, we do.”

“I’m glad you’re here. After the show’s over, just sit tight. We can go have a drink and talk for as long as you want.”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it softly. “I’ll see you soon, Mean Marli.”

“Okay, Cool Chris,” I said with a slight smile.

He leaned across the table and whispered, “And you know this.”

My smile widened as I watched him walk back toward the stage with a confident swagger that I knew and loved.

~*~

I sat at my table and thoroughly enjoyed the second half of the show. The band was phenomenal, and Chris was brilliant, as usual. It was emotional seeing him, but I managed to hold it together. At least until…

Toward the end of the show, Herb Gentry introduced the band members one by one, ending with Chris.

 “As some of you already know, I love little surprises during my shows, and tonight is no exception. I’d like to introduce to you our newest member, Mr. Christopher King,” he said.

Chris stepped forward, held up his trumpet, and bowed. I smiled and applauded along with the rest of the audience.

“Unfortunately, Chris is only with us temporarily, but I’d like to make it permanent. He’s highly talented and can play most of the instruments on this stage.
And
, he can sing. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you a young man I like to call my baby brother.  Without further ado, Mr. Christopher King!”

I leaned forward, my eyes glued to the stage as the tall, thin, dark-skinned man handed the microphone to Chris.

“Thanks, Herb. Um, good evening, everyone. This is a song that is a favorite of someone very special to me. Um, it’s traditionally sung by a beautiful woman, but tonight, I’m gonna sing it
for
a beautiful woman. I hope she enjoys it. I hope you guys enjoy it, too.”

Well, once he began singing “You Love is King,” I lost it. I think I cried through the entire song. Chris’s clear, tenor voice was absolutely flawless, and the words touched me deep inside my heart and soul. He closed his eyes and leaned his head to the left and played his vocal instrument with such emotion that it took all I had in me not to run up on that stage and hug him and never let him go.

His performance earned him a well-deserved standing ovation.

After the show, I stayed in my seat, just as Chris had requested, and waited for him while almost everyone else filed out of the ballroom. The lady from the restroom wished me good luck and said goodbye just as Chris approached my table.

“Good luck with what?” he asked.

I smiled nervously. “With life, I guess. We met in the ladies room.”

“Wow, you must’ve made some impression on her in there.”

I shrugged. “I guess.”

He reached for my hand. “Come on, we can go to the bar.”

“Wait… um, are they closing down the ballroom already?” I asked, hoping that I could just stay seated. I wasn’t quite ready to tell him or
show
him that I was pregnant at that point.

He glanced around the room. “I guess not. You wanna stay here and talk?”

I nodded. “Yeah, that would be great.”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

He sat across from me and smiled. “I can’t get over how beautiful you look tonight. I mean, you’ve always been beautiful, but there’s something different about you. You’re
glowing
.”

I smiled shyly. “Thanks. Um… Chris, I need to say something.”

He shook his head and interrupted me. “Let me go first. Marli, I owe you an apology. Through everything that happened, you stayed right by my side. You were there for me, and I can’t thank you enough for that. I hope you can forgive me for leaving like I did. And I know I owe your daughter an apology for leaving before I got a chance to meet her. I’m really sorry about that, too. But at the time, I really thought I was doing the right thing and I guess it really
was
the right thing for me, but I should’ve handled things differently.”

I looked at him and bit my bottom lip. “Um, well, I forgive you. It… it’s all right.”

“No, I really mean it. There hasn’t been a moment since I left that you haven’t been on my mind. I’ve missed you so much. I’ve missed holding you and touching you. I’ve missed
loving
you.”

“I… I’ve missed you, too, Chris.”

He looked me dead in the eye. “I still love you, Marli. I still love
every inch of you
. I never stopped.”

My heart fluttered at hearing that he still loved me, then it sank at the thought of him hating me for keeping the pregnancy from him.  “I love you, too, but I need—”

“And if you’ll take me back, I wanna try and make things work with you.”

“But what about the ensemble, the tour?” I asked.

“As soon as I knew you were coming tonight, I quit the band. This was my last show.”

I frowned. “
What?
You gave up an opportunity like that without even knowing if we’d get back together? Chris, that’s crazy.”
Oh, Lord, he’s really gonna hate me now.