Authors: Curtis Bennett
“I think we can,” Leslie said, easing into a smile.
“As you were saying, it’s time for us to check out.”
“Yes, it’s about that time, isn’t it?”
M
any events influenced Yvette’s life but none changed her more than that incident just a year earlier. It was Friday the 13
th
as she fondly remembered. It was a hectic afternoon at the illustrative Brock-Meyer Vacation Resort Café she worked at as an assistant chef as preparations kicked in for an important political banquet they were hosting. It was just as busy in the kitchen area where she hurried from table to table garnishing each entrée with great detail and care. Seven years removed from high school, she was about to celebrate her fifth anniversary working there in only a matter of days. It was a passing thought, however. For the moment, she was preoccupied with preparing for this banquet. And time was running out. The mayoral candidate would be arriving with his entourage within the hour and she wanted to ensure that everything met her approval.
Rounding the corner of the prepping table, she took a quick glance at the clock on the white tiled wall and decided it was time to put salad into eighty-six chilled wooden salad bowls. “Adrian, I’ll be right back. I’m going to get the salad,” she remembered telling her assistant.
Pausing to wash her hands, she entered the walk-in reefer to retrieve a large pan of Romanian-style Coleslaw when she turned on her heel and slipped on a butter patty she had not noticed when she first entered the cold storage unit. In that very instance, she dropped to the hard cold metal floor with a thud, as the slaw scattered over both of her lower legs and the surrounding area. “Shiiittt!” she remembered crying out, as she clenched her jaws. The pain radiating from her knee was sharp, sudden and excruciating. She also remembered Adrian popping her head inside the cold space, her eyes wide as twin moons. “What in hell’s name happened, Yvette?” she asked.
“I slipped on a damn butter patty,” she remembered replying, her embarrassment immense but not as immense as the pain.
“Are you alright, girl?” Adrian said, coming to Yvette’s aid.
“I’m not sure, Adrian. I’m feeling some serious pain.”
“Here, let me help you up.”
Yvette remembered being driven to the local hospital and waiting in the cold emergency room, for what seemed like hours. X-rays were taken and developed. In time, an orthopedic doctor entered the room and began to examine her leg.
Afterwards, the grim faced physician reluctantly told an anxious Yvette that the X-rays showed that she had torn a cartilage and several ligaments in her knee and would ultimately have to undergo surgery. Within a month, the physician insisted.
Shaking her head in disbelief, Yvette instinctively touched her throbbing knee with her trembling hand. It wasn’t the kind of news she wanted to hear. Not after all she had gone through to get to this point in her professional life.
Dammit, how could fate deal me such a terrible hand?
She cursed in silence. There had to be a divine reason for this, she reasoned.
Outwardly, she put on a brave face. Inwardly, acute nervousness seethed inside. But by mid-week of the following week, she had found the inner strength to undergo the surgical procedure.
Dammit, Yvette!
She mused. Why did this disaster have to happen at a time when I’m not seeing anyone
?
Sure would have been nice to have a handsome man doting over me, she thought. Especially a very considerate man of means. Flowers. Colorful balloons. Boxes of chocolate candy. Gentle hugs, comforting words, and sweet kisses. But she promised she’d make the most of her convalescence. All eight weeks of it, most of it being immobile.
The one comfort she garnished from the incident was that her Workman’s Compensation Insurance covered 80% of her income during her convalescence. The remainder was covered by sick leave she had on the books. Since Workman’s Compensation was not taxable, and with sick leave filling in the remaining deficit, her check was much much larger than it normally was after taxes. No wonder the politicians put into place the peeling off of their constituent’s taxes from their paychecks automatically rather than having them pay them outright, she thought. They’re afraid of people rebelling after finding out how much of their pay is actually going to government and government waste.
A self-motivator, after two months of intense physical therapy, she was well enough to return to her trade. But the long hours of standing and heavy lifting required of a gourmet chef proved too much for her surgically repaired knee. On top of that, she found herself popping pain pill after pain pill, 800 mg at that. It wasn’t long before she was forced to rethink her future in the food business. Fortunately, she was already enrolled in the MBA program at the university, which made the prospect of making a career change at this point in her life appear less daunting. Inside of a year she received her MBA degree, and thanks to her connections in the restaurant business, she signed on with her present employer in Tampa. Though the job centered on the restaurant business, she was playing a different role this time and in a different capacity.
Yvette loved the restaurant business, the people, the food, the challenges, and, of course, the money – forty-five grand a year – her starting salary. The business chain she kept the books for revolved around six five-star restaurants. Her office was housed at the spacious Tampa Bay location. There was a restaurant in the Orlando area, one in St Augustine, Florida, one in the Daytona Beach, Florida area and two in the Ft Lauderdale/Miami area. Yvette managed the books for the Tampa, Daytona Beach and the Orlando restaurants via computer. Currently under construction in the St Cloud/Kissimmee tourist area was a 150 seat capacity split-level restaurant. Yvette was slated to manage the books there, too. In addition, the Florida based company had plans of opening four more restaurants over the next two years. Two in North Florida and two more in the South Florida/Key West area. At that point they would hire an additional accountant.
Great plans, no doubt, she thought when the expansion plans were announced. Growth meant more patrons, which meant more jobs and more profits, which meant a bigger pay raise for her. But she had plans of her own. Quietly she was stashing away an egg nest of her own in hopes of opening a gourmet restaurant one day. Her lifelong goal was to own an entire chain of five-star restaurants. With her MBA in hand, she was that much closer to her dream. But for the moment, she was content to begin and end her day at the upscale
Café Le Soir,
which she often referred to as the
Café.
Besides, the food was kind’a good, she’d muse every once in a while to her friends in jest.
K
urt gazed up at his cousin Dwayne as he paced the carpeted floor like a recently caged cougar. His cousin’s rounded jaw was tight and visibly tense. The two men had started out having a friendly discussion about Kurt’s social and romantic life. More so, the lack of the two. But there were times the debate got heated. Kurt reminded his cousin throughout the discussion that this was his life and he shouldn’t interfere. Dwayne wasn’t having that.
“So what are you really trying to say, cous?” Kurt calmly asked, as he leaned forward in his chair, his arms draped lazily over his knees.
“Kurt, what I’m trying to say is that you’re acting as though you’re
pussy whipped.
And may I add whipped with a capital W!”
Crouching down before his cousin’s solemn form, until he was at eye level, Dwayne paused. Before him sat a man he greatly admired and respected above all others. And it pained him to the core to see his cousin suffering a bad case of the
Blues
.
“Look at you, man. You’re holed up in this joint like a Howard Hughes recluse. You’ve separated, with no girlfriend to turn to, and you have no social life. And from what I’m hearing, you’ve turned down every woman who has given you the key to the cookie store. I’m telling you, Leslie has got you in such an emotional rut you don’t know if you’re coming or going.”
“Thank you cous for your concern,” Kurt began, his eyes reflecting a touch of sadness, “Look, you’re one of my most trusted relatives,” he began. A benevolent smile spread across Dwayne’s face when Kurt dropped that line. “Cous, this is my wife you’re talking about and I am still in love with her, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Well, that just might explain why you’re not dipping your straw into some serious chocolate sundae right now. I’m talk’n with whipped cream and fudge,” Dwayne chuckled, as he patted Kurt on the shoulder. “And let’s not forget the cherry on top.”
Kurt released an exasperated sigh. “Listen, women and sex is not the issue here, cous. At least, not with me. What you’re talking about is one thing. What I’m talking about is another. I’m talking about love and commitment. And simply put, I know that my wife still loves me.”
“Perhaps. But where is this thing called love getting you? Where? Look at you. You look as though you’ve already lost twenty pounds worrying over that woman.”
“Thank you, but I needed to lose the weight, just the same.”
“Well, I’m not going to argue with you on that. But I’m tell’n you. There are family members who are bitter about the way she left you hanging out to dry like this, especially right after you had just lost your job. Hell, your situation wasn’t so bad that she couldn’t stay a little while longer. The general family consensus is that she could have hung in there with you. At least until you got back on your feet. After all, you were not being abusive to her in anyway.”
Kurt rolled his eyes heavenward, wondering how and exactly when he had become the center of everyone’s concern. Besides, where was family before this?
Running his fingers through his hair, he stood up. “Look, Dwayne. I don’t expect you or anyone else to fully understand my situation with Leslie but we have something special, something real. Something worth fighting for, man.”
“Well, if that is so, why isn’t she here with you?”
Kurt exhaled. “Lord knows. But I aim to find out.”
“I’m sure you will.”
“Look, my hope is to win my wife back. That’s the bottom line.”
Dwayne shook his head as the two paced the floor in silence.
Then their gaze met.
“Let me ask you something, Kurt,” Dwayne said, with his hands on his hips like an attorney about to plead his case before a jury. “How long has it been since Leslie left you?”
“About nine months.”
“And how often do you two get to see one another?”
“She flies here at least every couple of months. The last time we met, I flew to Oklahoma to be with her.”
“So, you’re telling me that she doesn’t want a divorce, but she doesn’t want to live with you either. And you’re content with having just a part time wife?”
“I never said that. The position is still a full time position. And I’ve stressed this fact with her every chance I see her.”
After a pause, Dwayne continued his cross-examination. “I was just wondering. When you two get together, I imagine you two are intimate.”
Kurt lowered his head, as if to contemplate whether or not to respond to this very private and personal question. With slightly averted eyes, he said, “We’re as intimate as any other married couple.”
“Okay. Let me try to understand this. You live apart, but when you two are around one another you get along like pals, more like college sweethearts. You go out on the town, enjoy one another’s company, hug and kiss, and are intimate. And when the gig is up, you both go your own separate ways. Trust me on this. There’s something she’s not tell’n you, cous.”
“Yeah, you go figure.”
“Or perhaps something you’re not tell’n me.”
“Like I said, go figure,” Kurt replied slightly annoyed. “And there’s nothing more I can add to the discussion.”
“I wished I had the time to probe you a little more. But I have to be going. You know how Jacqui is when I run late for her special Sunday evening meals. I’m talk’n a five course meal.”
“Yeah, that wonderful wife of yours is a terrific cook. I wouldn’t want to miss any of her meals either.”
“Well, I’m certainly going to miss her cooking,” Dwayne said.
“That’s right. Your job is sending you to Atlanta for six weeks. When are you leaving?”
“In the morning. I’m going to train on a new jet engine that’s coming online soon.”
“Yeah, you aviation repair types have to keep those planes in the air.”
“Twenty-four seven, cous.”
“Amazing,” Kurt nodded.
“Hey, how’s the unemployment compensation coming along?”
“It’s keeping me afloat, along with whatever Leslie is able to send me.”
“Good,” Dwayne murmured. “How much time left on it?”
“About three months then my unemployment runs out. Hopefully the house will be sold before then.”
“I hope so,” Dwayne murmured, as he gathered his car keys and cap.
“Well, just give me a call when you get back,” Kurt said.
“Sure thing, cous,” Dwayne said, flashing a toothy smile.
An emotionally exhausted Kurt turned and walked his cousin to the door. The two had been at it for well over an hour. Though he could be intense and thought provoking, at times, he knew Dwayne meant well. There were few family members who could get this deep into his personal business. Dwayne was that rare exception. Besides, it was good to have someone around to talk to and bounce one’s thoughts off of. Emotional baggage the likes he was carrying was not something he wanted to keep to himself.
“Well cous, above all things, remember you’re da man!” Dwayne bellowed as he gave his cousin an impromptu high-five and hug. “Hey, one more thing before I leave. You might consider giving Leslie an ultimatum. And if that doesn’t work you need to get away from her the first chance you get. Believe me, if she really loves you, she’ll find her way back to you. Hell, if she doesn’t…there’s always other fish out in the sea. But seriously, I hope your strategy works. I know you’re serious. And I know you love her. I just hope your get-togethers are more than just a ‘booty-call’ for both of you.”