Zane's the Other Side of the Pillow
“No, they are not the same,” Estella said. “I’m in love with another man, engaged to be married in a few months.”
“Congratulations!”
“Thank you. I never thought I’d open up to someone else. I had to find a man who didn’t want, nor expect me to bear, children.” She lowered her eyes. “I never told Tevin this, and he still doesn’t know. I had my tubes tied after my last miscarriage. I couldn’t go through that again . . . not ever.”
“I honestly don’t blame you. You did what you felt you had to do . . . but he does know you tied your tubes.”
Estella looked up at me, stunned. “But how?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure but he definitely knows. He told me that you’d done it.”
“I should’ve known that he’d figured it out.” She sighed and then added, “That was one of the main reasons that I decided to divorce him. It was a lie, a deception, and I could not face him every day knowing what I had done. Nor could I confess what I had done . . . not back then.”
“I understand.”
“He already felt robbed. Telling him that I had removed any chance of him ever fathering a child with me would have killed him.”
“Well, everything happens for a reason. We’ll all be fine, and now you can stop worrying about deceiving him since he already knew. Life goes on and every day is a gift. Truly, it is.”
Estella stood up, and so did I.
She gathered her purse and keys. “I’m glad that we could share this brief encounter together. Thank you for even letting me in the door.”
“I’ll tell Tevin that you came by,” I said.
She was walking toward the foyer and froze, then turned back to me. “I’m not going to encourage or discourage you from telling him that I was here. He doesn’t know. I took it upon myself to come and speak with you. He was only asking for advice, not for me to contact you.”
I nodded. “I see.”
“I wish the two of you nothing but a happy, long life together. And many, many more kids.”
I giggled. “I don’t know about all that. I’m not a spring chicken. This one pregnancy is a chore.”
We walked to the front door together and I opened it.
She was about to walk out without saying anything.
“Estella, thanks for coming to see me. Even though my first inclination was to be upset about it, this has actually been . . . intriguing. Getting to meet you, even for a few moments, gives me a lot of insight into Tevin.”
“Good. And I’m glad we met as well. It gives me peace to know that he’s in such wonderful hands now.”
I don’t know what inspired me to do it, but I hugged her . . . tight. She hugged me back. When we let go of the embrace, she smiled and walked away to her car.
Chapter Thirty-one
“Everyone has their own reasons for waking up in the morning. Mine is you.”
—Unknown
Geesh, I was horny all the time. Tevin was horny as well but being overly cautious when it came to having sex with me. It was driving me crazy. So I would take matters into my own hands. I decided not to mention Estella coming by. It would have solved nothing and he would have been worried about my feelings. I was actually cool with the entire thing, which shocked even me. In many ways, it had helped to solidify my decision to eventually get married.
Courtney and Floyd had joined us for dinner that Friday night at the Old Ebbitt Grill on Fifteenth Street, within walking distance of the White House. It was amazing how DC had gone through a massive gentrification. When I was a child, it was truly “the Chocolate City.” Now it was about fifty percent African-American, forty percent Caucasian, and the rest was made up of Hispanics, Asians, and others. Areas that used to be infamous for gang activity were now crowded with nightlife, new hangouts, and people out mingling way into the wee hours of the morning, without any fear for their safety. The reputation had changed for the better. It had evolved.
The world had evolved, though. We had our first African-American president in office. When it became clear that Senator Barack Obama had an actual chance of winning, I had rushed to have anything to do with his campaign. It was an exciting time and his wife, Michelle, was my idol. Everything about her was stylish, sophisticated, and she clearly was a unique, incredible woman.
President Obama had won his second term and it also made one thing clear. Even though he had won both elections by incredible, unquestionable margins, racism was still alive and well in the United States. In my opinion, no other POTUS had ever been disrespected or talked down upon in recent history as he was. At least, not to my recollection. But still, he stood strong, confident, and assured. A spectacular role model for young men of all races who ensured them that having the audacity to hope could actually pay off in the end. That was what I admired about him the most. He believed that he could do it and that was half the battle.
Since we were so close to the White House, we partially discussed that topic over dinner. Tevin was not big on talking politics but Floyd and I were, and Courtney was neutral.
“Hillary’s going to win in twenty-sixteen,” I said with much confidence.
“Hmm, I don’t know about all of that,” Floyd replied. “We don’t need a woman running this country. Too much at stake.”
“That’s my male chauvinist husband,” Courtney joked as she sliced into her rib eye with a steak knife.
“Floyd, you can miss me with all that,” I said. “Let’s have this same discussion after she wins.”
“Biden will beat her in the primary,” Floyd added. “And you can take that to the bank.”
Tevin smirked. “We sure have a lot of fortune tellers at this table.”
I tapped Tevin lightly on the arm and then picked up a forkful of my Trout Parmesan. “It’s not being a seer, baby. It’s common sense. It’s Hillary all the way, boo.”
“Women have a place in this world. That is it and that is all,” Floyd stated with much sarcasm. “Accept your role and everything is all good.”
He’s getting on my last fucking nerve! Rat bastard!
I tensed up and Tevin must have felt it all through my body beside him. I really, really wanted to burst Floyd’s bubble right there at the table. Call him out on his shit. Tevin must have sensed it. He changed the subject.
“Hey, you two,” he said, addressing Floyd and Courtney. “Jemistry and I are thinking about spending New Year’s Eve in New Orleans. You should join us.”
Courtney looked concern. “Jemistry, can you travel that far, with the pregnancy and all? When are you due again?”
“Close to Valentine’s Day,” I replied. “February seventeenth to be exact, but we all know that it’s not going to go down like that.”
Everyone at the table laughed.
“Oh no, little man is going to make his appearance when he is good and ready,” Tevin said.
“But to answer your other question, Dr. Horton said that everything is fine with the baby, so I can fly.” I reached over and took Tevin by the hand. “Besides, you know from experience, it pays to be married to a doctor so you always have emergency medical care.”
“No doubt,” she said.
Tevin pulled his hand away. “Yeah, it does pay to be married to a doctor.”
I was stunned that he would come at me like that in front of them. “Tevin, please don’t. Not tonight.”
“Okay, whatever,” he replied and took a sip of his Arnold Palmer.
“You really need to make my boy an honest man,” Floyd interjected.
Nobody asked you shit! And you are far from honest!
“Let me put everyone out of their misery, speculation, and need to express opinions. I was hoping that the trip to New Orleans, which was my suggestion, could also serve as our honeymoon. I honestly had no idea that Tevin planned to invite you, but that’s cool. The more the merrier.”
Everyone fell silent.
I looked at Tevin. “Did you hear what I said? Can we get married in December and go on our
honeymoon?”
Tevin grinned. “You already know my answer. I only wish we could do it sooner.”
What the hell! Cave in and get it over with!
“Fine. I love you, I want to marry you, so you pick the date and I’m there.”
Tevin stared at me. “Really?”
“Yes, so when?”
“It’s Friday, we have to go apply for the license, it takes three days to process, and then we can pick it up.” He paused to add dates up in his head. “How about next Saturday?”
I shrugged. “Works for me, on one condition.”
Tevin leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Anything.”
“That you get us a suite at the Mandarin Oriental that night to consummate our marriage.”
“Done.”
“And that you still take me to New Orleans for New Year’s Eve.”
“Done.”
“And that you let me switch out that hideous blue paint you bought for TJ’s nursery.”
Courtney said, “Aw, you’re calling him TJ already. Awesome!”
“Done,” Tevin said, “but I thought you said on one condition?”
“I might as well go for broke,” I said and laughed.
“Might as well,” Floyd said and then rolled his eyes. Then he caught himself slipping and grinned. “That’s great about the wedding. I’ll put in tomorrow for the day off.”
“Cool,” I said, trying to suppress a frown. I was feeling some kind of way about Floyd.
“So, where are we doing this?” Courtney asked with excitement. “Is the justice of the peace even available on Saturdays?”
“I’m sure they are,” I said, “but I’m gonna ask one of my coworker’s husbands to do the honors. I’m glad that the two of you will be able to come.” I looked at Tevin. “Do you want to invite your parents?”
“Of course. I’ll see if either one of them can make it on such short notice.”
I reminded him, “We could have waited so they could definitely make it.”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “Not waiting.”
“Then let’s do the damn thing.”
* * *
When we got home that night, I couldn’t go another minute without some sex. Tevin pulled the car into the garage since it was getting chilly outdoors. During the warmer months, we both had parked in the driveway. Now we were both utilizing bays in his three-car garage on the regular.
I went ahead inside. He was getting some bags out of the trunk. We had been shopping earlier that day for some things for TJ. I hoped that he planned to leave that hideous paint in the car. It was definitely going back. We had agreed on blue for the room—obvious choice—but the shade he had selected was bland and too dark. I desired something more vibrant. I also planned to hire the art teacher from school, Mr. Richie, to paint a colorful mural on the biggest wall. I was going to leave that wall white for now and let him come up with something creative. He had asked me what I had in mind and I told him that I was asking him because I wanted his imagination at work, not mine. He was scheduled to come by the next weekend. Now I had to reschedule. I was getting married!
By the time Tevin walked in from the garage, I was sitting in the kitchen, butt naked, with my right leg thrown up on the table, and two of the fingers from my left hand exploring my pussy.
“Oh damn,” Tevin said, dropping the bags on the floor. “Excited much?”
“What can I say?” I replied. “You turn me on . . . so much. The thought of finally becoming Mrs. Tevin Harris has me all . . . hot and bothered.”
“Baby, I don’t want to hurt the baby.”
I sighed. “Tevin, I’ve asked Dr. Horton several times if it was okay to have sex. We have months left until February, and I need you.”
“And I’m not saying that I don’t need you, baby. My thirst for you never ends.”
“Then can you do me a favor and at least come drink at my fountain?”
I pulled my fingers out and sucked on them, one at a time.
“Um, you don’t know what you’re missing.”
“Oh, I know it very well. I would know it anywhere.” He chuckled and walked toward me. “That’s my pussy.”
“Damn right it’s your pussy. And you need to stop neglecting it. It’s going to get a complex. Pussies can have low self-esteem. We don’t want to have to put her in therapy.”
Tevin laughed and kneeled beside me. I took my leg off the table and placed it over his left shoulder.
He stared at my pussy like it was a rare diamond.
“God has made a lot of beautiful things in this world, but you are a masterpiece.”
Whenever I was intimate with Tevin, he made me feel so unique and special. Other men in my past had never done that. Sure, they made me feel like they cared, but they never made me feel like I was one-of-a-kind. Tevin did that for me, and I loved him all the more for it.
“You make me feel so . . . exceptional,” I said, running the fingers from my other hand through his hair. “You always make me feel so damn special.”
He gazed up into my eyes. “That’s because you are. You’re everything to me, Jemistry. Everything. Sure, I’m passionate about my career. I’ve accomplished a lot in my lifetime and still have a long way to go, hopefully. But what good does it do a man to prosper if he loses his soul in the process. You are my soul.”
Not sure how it happened but I was crying. He wiped my tears.
“I’m so glad that you decided to finally allow me the honor of becoming your husband.”
“Tevin, I never had any doubts about marrying you. That’s not what it was about. I just—”
He placed three fingers over my lips. “Shhhh, it doesn’t matter whether you had any doubts or not. All that matters is that it’s really happening.” He moved his hands down over my stomach. “Everything is really happening. I’ve always wanted a family. A woman to come home to, a child to play with, and a legacy to leave behind.”
I pulled Tevin’s face to mine and kissed him intensely. We must have kissed for a good ten minutes. It had been a while since we had shared a kiss so full of unspoken words and feelings. I was still crying but it was all out of joy.
When we finished kissing, Tevin lowered his head and drank from my fountain.
TEVIN
Chapter Thirty-two
“When we are in love, we seem to ourselves quite different than what we were before.”
—Blaise Pascal
Even though I had been married before, taking Jemistry as my wife had an effect on me that was foreign to me. We got married at a small church in Northeast, DC, with about thirty people present. It could have been three, three hundred, three thousand, or just us and I would have been ecstatic.
Courtney and Floyd were there with their children, several of Jemistry’s coworkers and their spouses, including Lilibeth and her husband, and both of my sisters came with their families and both of my parents. My father flew in from Sweden and I was not the least bit surprised.
It was interesting seeing my parents interact. Even though they discussed their offspring from time to time, they had not actually seen each other in several years. Daddy was happy for me but I could tell that he was also sad about ruining the one good thing he ever had: his connection with my mother.
What happened between them was the main reason why I would never, ever cheat on a woman. I watched the pain Mom had endured at the hands of my father and there was no way that I could ever do that to another individual, much less someone that I loved. Too many men did the exact opposite. They followed in their fathers’ footsteps and made a mockery out of marriage. That could never, and would never, be me.
Jemistry walked down the aisle in a stunning, off-white, floor-length gown. Two of the students from the school choir—a male and a female—sang a duet for her entrance: “After All is Said and Done” by Marc Nelson and Beyoncé.
Both of us cried during the ceremony, along with everyone else, even Floyd. We had a reception on a chartered, pr
ivate yacht and sailed up and down the Potomac River for three hours. It was an amazing day.
I got Jemistry the suite she’d requested at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel—the Presidential Suite. The suite had three bedrooms and it was more than 3,500 square feet. No, we did not need all of that but Jemistry was worth every penny.
We actually made use of most of the rooms, though. We made love like we had never made love before. After speaking to Dr. Horton myself a few days earlier, he had not only assured me that it was fine for us to have sex, but he also told me that Jemistry was “sexually frustrated” and had asked him to call me to discuss, one medical professional to another. She tickled me.
Jemistry had gone on a web site and found all these animated sex positions with the female on top. She had sent me a text with the link and instructed me to “study up on them.” I did and was ready to rock her world . . . gently.
I was not about to go for broke like most men claimed that they did on their wedding nights. It always tripped me out when my friends would brag about how they “tore the pussy up” instead of simply making love. They would share the intimate details and try to outdo each other. It was quite outlandish but not unexpected. Men loved to brag on their dicks, especially to other men.
Once women reached a certain age, or status, it was a great turn-off for a man to brag on his sexual skills. Now if women were feeble-minded and going through a dick drought, it was a different story. Those were the kind of chicks Floyd preyed on.
I was so glad that Jemistry hadn’t told Courtney about Floyd’s wandering eyes, and dick. I had not brought it up to her again—I didn’t want to press my luck—and things were getting back to normal between Floyd and me. I’d forgiven him for not telling me about Jemistry’s pregnancy in the beginning. The main reason being that I was not quite sure what I would have done if the roles had been reversed. As much as I would have liked to think that I would’ve told him, I wasn’t a hundred percent convinced of that.
* * *