Authors: Curtis Bennett
I
t was crowded inside. An avid romance/adventure reader, Yvette made it a point to attend every book signing at the local Barnes & Noble's Book Store that featured mainstream romance writers. She also loved to collect exotic cookbooks penned by her favorite European, Creole and Native-American chefs. For recreation, she loved to play miniature golf, go swimming, bowl, jog and shop the area flea markets. It was her tall and handsome father who stimulated her interested in books and her caring mother who piqued her interest in flea markets.
Niosha Victoria D’Nas was today’s featured novelist. After purchasing the up and coming author’s new book,
The Mature Rose
, a romance story about a twenty-three year old single mom who was afraid to leave the security of her mother’s home, that was, until she encountered Blaine, a handsome dental tech assistance at the dentist office she frequented. The two eventually run into one another at a local social gathering, start dating, and fall in love. It was a theme Yvette hoped to realize one day…falling in love. And as always
…
with Prince Charming.
After the book signing, she and her best friend Juanita, who usually accompanied her, drove over to the busy harbor, parked the car, and found a vacant concrete bench. It was a beautiful day to look out over the bay and the expansive bridges in the distance and a wonderful day to inhale the fresh ocean air and marvel at those who had a better and more scenic view from the comforts of their luxury boats.
Yvette began their conversation by reflecting back on the book signing and the author’s book. The story line had struck a chord with her, as she turned and said, “You know, Juanita. When I think back on it, it wasn’t until I was damn near twenty-four years old, myself, before I found the courage to leave the nest. I’m sure most people leave home much earlier.”
“Twenty-four? Damn girlfriend! Why did it take you so long to leave?”
“Little Terence was the reason why. Being young and with an unplanned addition, I just wasn’t prepared to take care of a child on my own at that time. So I stayed at home with my mother. Just the same, I wouldn’t trade my little man for the world.”
“I hear you, girl. I have a sister who went through a similar situation, so believe me, I know where you are coming from.”
“I just hope your sister wasn’t fifteen and as naïve as I was then,” Yvette said with a somber expression. “You know, someone wanting and desiring love and needing the affection of a man.”
“Try thirteen.”
“Thirteen!” Yvette snapped back. “Your sister was thirteen when she had her first child? And I thought I was out there.”
“Well, actually that’s the age she got knocked up. She had the baby four days after her fourteenth birthday. Unfortunately, you could never tell her anything. She was so sure she was in love and that he was too. Just down right adamant about it.”
“But he wasn’t?”
“Not by a long shot,” Juanita replied wearily. “He was nothing more than a sexual predator, if you ask me. A damned pencil dick.”
“A pencil dick?” Yvette echoed, as she chuckled.
“Yes, a pencil dick.”
“And how old was this pencil dick, Juanita?”
“Thirty-one.”
“Nooo!Thirty-one!” Yvette nearly choked on her mint.
“Yeah. And his ass should have gone to jail over this.”
“Why didn’t he?”
“My father couldn’t find out where he lived and my sister claimed she didn’t know his last name or where he lived. I’m tell’n you, my dad was so pissed off and to the point that he spent five full days canvassing the neighborhood for that joker.”
“Somebody in the neighborhood knew something, I’m sure,” Yvette reasoned aloud.
“I’m sure, too. Hell, I wanted to kill that sonavabitch, myself. Believe me, that asshole was only in the picture because he saw an opportunity to get some young and dumb and available coochie, who just happened to be my little sister. I know that’s kind’a forward but hell, it’s the truth. And she was all too eager to please him because she thought the sun rose and set with that man. After a while, I think it was all about the dick for her. Made her feel all grown up to be doing grown up things.”
“That’s somewhat the way it happened with me, I suppose,” Yvette said, lowering her head slightly during this retrospective moment. “My son’s father was very tall and handsome and very charming and much older and more experienced than I ever gave him credit for. Somehow, he seemed to know all the right words to say.”
“Yeah, and all the right moves to make, I’m sure. Believe me, one would think all of those playas read from the same damn sex manual,” Juanita added. “All smooth talking and all.”
“Thinking back on those days, I have to give most of them credit for being well polished lady-charmers,” Yvette added. “Hell, it only took one to pop my damn cherry.”
“Pussy snatchers are what I refer to them as, if you want to ask me.”
“Gal! Anyone ever tell you how vulgar you can be at times?” Yvette said with a bemused smile.
“Like I always say, I just
tells
it like it is, girlfriend.”
“So I hear.”
“Anyway, as you said…you know the type.”
Yvette continued. “Yeah. And it took me a while to figure it out. Seducing untouched teenaged girls was part game, part occupation, and part hobby for
T-Rex
. That was his nickname,” Yvette explained, a gang banger name he was known as by men around and about the
Hood
. “Believe me, the man was an expert when it came to deflowering young
virgins
. Hell, I was one of them.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s just the type we need to stay away from at that age, all smooth, tender and poetic and shit!” Juanita injected.
With a smile, Yvette said, “Women had a different name for him, I discovered. And to think I was so damned naïve. It took me a year to figure out why women referred to him as the
Cherry Picker
.
”
“Damn gal, you were naive.”
The two shared another laugh.
“You said he was older. By how much?” Juanita asked.
“Let me see, I believe he was six years my senior,” Yvette answered. “The man lied so much, I could never be certain about anything he told me.”
“So what happened between you two? What opened your eyes?”
“Being a worldly man who enjoyed women, as much as his freedom, I believe he grew leery of my constant talk of marriage upon graduating from high school. He was a young and free spirited person, one not to be tied down by a young provincial dreamer, like myself, regardless of how young and tender and beautiful I was in his eyes. No matter how deliciously sweet, tight and deep the cherry was.”
“Damn!” Juanita replied. “You’re starting to sound a lot like me. Go on.”
“Well, in time he fell for a woman closer to his age and mindset. At least that’s how he explained her to me. Someone not interested in marriage or a commitment, I imagine.”
“I’m tell’n you, those
‘non-committal’
types are giving us women a bad name, you know.”
“I know…” Yvette replied, her voice trailing.
“So tell me, when did you suspect something wasn’t on the up and up?”
“I didn’t suspect anything, not at first,” Yvette replied, as the question hammered at her. “But Terence began to see less and less of me. He was also good at finding an excuse my dumb ass would readily accept to explain why he was away so much.”
“So you didn’t have a clue what was about to come down,” Juanita injected.
“No, not really.” Yvette neglected to say that she was not entirely without her suspicions about his comings and goings, thanks to the small town environment she had been raised in. “Anyway, I grew tired of all the whispers going on behind my back so I finally asked him about his frequent absences.”
“Don’t tell me, he had a good reason for it.”
“Yes! He attempted to smoothly explain things away, and almost always in a pleading way, ‘Honey, you just can’t believe in all of that damn gossip! How many times do I have to tell you this shit? Listen, what your young ass need to believe in is me, baby. I’m the one doing for you, providing for you. I’m the one here for you. Not those big ass, loose lips, jealous, conniving '
bitch
' friends of yours. Baby, they’re just jealous of what we have. It's you I love. Only you, baby!’ He’d say.”
“Don’t tell me you fell for that line.”
“Well, kind’a, especially after he’d kissed me. I guess I found that reassuring at the time. I mean, I was in love with the man. So I gave him the benefit of the doubt.”
“I see.”
“I know I shouldn’t have, Juanita. But I’ve learned so much since then.”
“So what prompted you to kick his ass to the curb?”
“You would have to ask,” Yvette said, trying to suppress a giggle. “Well, one day I decided to pay him a surprise visit at his place, to share some sudden but unexpected news with him. I’ll always remember that day because it was searing hot and I was perspiring like a wet sponge lying on hot desert sand. Using the key he had given me to his apartment, I quietly entered, knowing that he often slept several hours before going off to work.”
“Damn, this sounds interesting already,” Juanita jested.
“To make a long story short, I found Terence and another woman going at it on the sofa in a manner and way he had never done with me.”
“That low life piece of ghetto DNA,” Juanita fumed.
“I could not believe what was blatantly going on before my eyes. I initially turned away, determined to leave. Determined to get as far away from that place as I could. But seeing him with her body pinned beneath him made my blood boil. I remember my eyes filling with tears. And I was mad as hell. I’m tell’n you, in that one instance all of my hopes and dreams crumbled right there before me as those two went at it. To add insult to injury, they were so damned caught up in the moment of passion that they were unaware of my presence.”
“Now that’s what I call get’n busy.”
“Just the same, I was beyond pissed off!”
“Child, who wouldn’t be?”
“When Terence finally acknowledged my presence, I stared him down until all the tears, the hurt, the betrayal, anger and pain boiled inside of me like hot molten lava inching its way up to the surface. I eventually exploded.”
“You had a right to, gal.”
"Juanita, I was so mad, I cussed him out. I told him that he was a self-indulgent, behind your back, low-life, skirt chasing, pussy stealing bastard! Or something along those lines. After that, I left. I even forgot why the hell I went there in the first place – and that was to tell him that I was pregnant with his child.”
“Now that’s extreme distraction for you, girl.”
“Mother had been right about Terence all along. The man was nothing but trouble. But why do mothers have to always be so right? Why couldn't my mother have been wrong about the man that I so foolishly loved?”
“Look, Yvette,” Juanita broke in, “you were young at the time. Probably foolish, too. So, don’t beat up on yourself like that. Being pregnant at the age of fifteen, against your better judgment and your wise mother's wishes, had to be a lot of pressure on you, I’m sure. But to walk in on your unborn baby's father at the very moment he’s getting busy with the local ready-for-the-world-hoochie momma, well, that is a bit too much for me.”
”It was traumatic, to say the least, the lowest point in my life, except for my father's passing,” Yvette added. “Believe me, this was one experience I wished I could have buried a lot deeper than six feet under.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Well, since that time, I’ve pretty much kept men at a safe distance.”
“And I can see why,” Juanita said as a sudden breeze fluffed her curls.
“That’s why I’m not interested in a serious relationship, not at this time.”
“Yeah, to hell with them!” Juanita leered. “Most men ain’t no damn good to begin with.”
“Well, the ones like Terrence,” Yvette added.
“Yeah, especially that particular low life Negro.”
What she decided not to tell Juanita was that a week later, she found the courage to call
bad boy
Terence back to inform him that he had impregnated her. Big time! Though the word impregnated sounded a tad clinical, that’s just the way she intended it to sound…cold, sterile and straight to the point, just as he had callously treated their relationship. Not the least to her surprise, his response was an impartial, “Damn Yvette, why me? Why? And if what you’re saying is true, that you’ve gotten yourself knocked up, what the hell do you want from me? I ain’t paying no more child-support. Furthermore, how in hell can you be so sure it’s mine?”
His obdurate words had come across as cold and void of emotions as the phone she held in her hand and the deep hurt he caused her could not have cut any deeper. But with great restraint, she had kept her voice steady, and had found the strength to tell him, “Terence, go to hell, you bastard!” as she hung the phone up.
No, it wasn’t easy erasing Terence’s painful betrayal, but finding part-time work and attending night school helped to accelerate the healing process for Yvette. She aspired to be a world-class chef and began working towards that goal. Formal training came at a renowned school of the culinary arts in New Orleans with an emphasis on Cajun-styled cuisine. Upon graduating, she sought a coveted position as an assistant chef at a newly built upscale resort in Tampa, Florida and got it. And she loved it. The hours were great. The facility was brand spanking new, the people she worked with were terrific, and the salary was just right. Things certainly seemed to be going her way. Not overtly superstitious woman, she became one a week later on Friday the 13
th
.
C
hapter 4
L
eslie’s departure proved more difficult than Kurt imagined. She had been more than a just another warm body around their two-story town house. Throughout the years she provided him companionship, emotional support and financial stability. In her absence, he was forced to rely upon his savings to pay the mortgage, the utilities, car and homeowner’s insurance, and property taxes. There were times he had to be quite creative. In an effort not to deplete all of his savings, he kept his coveted platinum card handy for emergency purchases and cash withdrawals. There were also those rare special occasions. Occasions like the one he was preparing for today.