Charley (6 page)

“Looks like red
is
your color.”

He was a bit startled and he hurriedly folded and put away the paper. He started to stand.  I put a hand on his shoulder. “Keep your seat. What are you drinking?”

I was determined to be a cool hostess. I didn’t want him to see how excited I was to see him again.

Coach stood and grasped my hand. He seemed to hold it longer than a simple handshake. “It’s just a Coke; safer for me, but thanks. You look fantastic and you like red as well,” he replied, admiring my red necklace. “Have a seat.”

I felt it was better to leave Jimmy’s and head to a neutral setting. “I’ve got a better idea; I haven’t eaten, why don’t we walk down the street to the Deli?  You can buy me lunch. They have some terrific salads and sandwiches. And we can talk.”

“Let’s do it. I’m starved.”

The sky was overcast and the temperature relatively comfortable. We were able to stroll up the street, instead of rushing to the next cool haven.

“Why did you come back, Coach?”

“When we left Jimmy’s, I didn’t intend coming back.”

“Oh?’

“We had a great dinner by the way, thanks. Got along well with Loretta and we started walking toward the hotel. She said she was staying with her sister in the suburbs, so I offered to let her stay with me.”

“How gallant,”

“Yeah, dumb line, right? Of course, I didn’t figure to do much sleeping.”

“I guarantee she didn’t intend to do much either.”

He continued. “When we got to the hotel, the doorman, Roberto, was leaving. I guess his shift was over. He stopped me and asked whether I had seen Ms. Charley?”

“I was surprised at the question, so I asked him. “Who?”

“Ms. Charley Howard, Jimmy’s owner,” he replied. “You remember I told you to meet her?”

“I thought the owner was Charlotte Howard.” I said, I was getting quite confused.

He replied. “Her name is Charlotte Howard Brewster. Everyone calls her Charley.”

“It then came to me like a bolt out of the blue. Charlotte, Charley, Charley and Randle Brewster! The picture in the Bar said ‘Charlotte’. Everyone called you Charlotte and the name just didn’t register with me. And then you introduced yourself as Charlotte Howard.  But Charley? Now that’s a name I can’t forget. It all started to make sense and I made the connection. I changed my plans, put Loretta in a cab back to her sisters and hustled back to Jimmy’s.  But you were already gone.”

He remembers! Thank you Lord! I knew he would come back.

“I knew it,” I whispered quietly to myself.

“What did you say?”

“Oh … nothing. Do you remember when we first met? It was at the Fairmont in Memphis. It was a function for the Boys and Girls Club. You were the featured speaker. You introduced yourself to Randle and me. Remember?”

“As I recall, I was less than a gentleman that night.”

“It wasn’t fifteen minutes after we met when you started hitting on me. You had your hands all over me after my husband excused himself. I couldn’t believe it. I slapped you hard.”

“I’m sorry, that was early in my career and I was a little cocky. With a drink or two, I thought every female on earth was mine for the taking. I guess you were the exception.”

“Guess I was. Oh … and still am!”

That was dumb of me to say.

I should have said you can be fresh with me anytime.

I reached for Coach’s hand and grasped it in mine. “I’ll tell you when you can get fresh again. Okay?”

That’s better!

After devouring a large club sandwich and a huge salad, he sat back, his large frame looking much more relaxed in the bamboo chair. “Lunch was excellent, where to now?”

“The hotel has a beautiful rose garden, why don’t we find a shady spot and talk? I know just the place.”

As we entered the garden, the sky got gradually darker and a summer shower suddenly developed. I held out my hand. “Feels like a rain drop. Summer shower, be over in a minute. Hurry!”

I took Coach’s hand and rushed him through the sweet smelling garden when the sky opened and the rain fell in full force. By the time we reached the white gazebo on the far side of the garden, we were soaked. The shelter was next to a rock wall framing a twenty-foot waterfall. Aged climbing rose bushes formed a wall of red roses around the structure. With the sound of the waterfall, the smell of the freshly falling rain, and the thickness of the roses and a little imagination, you could feel yourself safely enclosed in a small cave at the foot of the falls.

“Here we are. Didn’t get wet did you Coach?” I said laughing, and pushed back my wet hair and shook the water from my dress.

“Feels like I’ve been swimming fully clothed.”

Rain does funny things to summer cotton clothes. I looked at Coach. He was standing in the middle of the gazebo slapping his wet cap against his leg to get the water off. The soaked red shirt stuck tightly to his chest. His small nipples drew attention to his sculptured chest and rippled abdomen. The short sleeves shrunk to form a tight band around his upper arm. With a little imagination, you could say that Coach stood there with every contour of his magnificent body in plain view. 

His white shorts were the most revealing. The rain had made the shorts virtually transparent. Coach was wearing black bikini briefs. The briefs weren’t transparent but it was obvious what they contained in them.

Thank you rain!

I stood there staring at this exposed man. Until I realized, he was staring at me as well. Apparently rain does the same to white dresses as it does to white shorts. Coach’s eyes confirmed this. I could see his eyes traveling up and down my body. In an instance, I began pulling the dress away from my pushup bra and pink thong.

He stammered.

“Oh, I… I am sorry, I didn’t look … I mean … I didn’t mean to stare.”

I laughed and pointed to his shorts.

“That’s okay, I probably stared first.”

With an embarrassed frown, Coach turned around and began pulling the wet shorts away from his body. When he turned back, he apologized again.

“I am so sorry … is that better?”

I was in a mischievous mood, and he gave me a perfect opening so I jumped right in.

“No, I liked it better the other way. I like black briefs.”

My response rattled him for a few seconds but he came back strong.

“So do I. See anything else you like?”

“Coach McCoy, you are bad …”

I laughed, and I raised my hand like I might slap him.

Before my hand could reach shoulder level, his hand met mine and our fingers interlocked. “Not this time, Charley.” His other hand reached out for my waist and pulled me closer. “Is it okay if I get fresh with you?”

My heart skipped a beat and a warm feeling surged through my body. Without saying a word, I reached for the back of his head and pulled him to me. His hand released my fingers and wrapped around me.  My free hand found his face and stroked it gently as I guided it to my lips.

I want you so much!

He leaned over to kiss me and slowly came closer. I could feel his breath on my face. I closed my eyes and tilted my head to receive the most anticipated kiss of my life. His lips moved in slow motion, closer and closer. I was surprised as our lips touched. His kiss was rough and hard. My lips weren’t caressed; they were pressed against my gums. There was nothing gentle or tender about it. He forced my head back and opened his mouth wider to envelop my lips. His hand jumped to the back of my head and held it even tighter to him.

  I couldn’t move. I could feel the emotion bursting out of him. I heard a low guttural moan from his throat. His tongue exploded into my mouth, expecting to conquer anything in its path. He was like a wild man, his head turned from side to side as he continued to seek a new position for his lips to meet mine. He put all his energy into the kiss. His hands didn’t attempt to grip my breast or my rear; they were tightly wrapped around my waist and head. I was beginning to become frightened. This wasn’t the man with whom I had just spent a pleasant two hour lunch. What if Wilma had been right; could he be a sexual predator? I really didn’t know him. This wasn’t at all what I expected.

As his tongue challenged mine I closed my lips and pushed him back. My refusal to accept his aggressive tongue was apparently the trigger that shocked his mind back to reality. Slowly, his tight, aggressive body began to relax. I could feel those broad shoulders sag. His hand dropped from the back of my head to my waist, joining the one already there. They both relaxed their tight grip. I felt his chest expand as he inhaled deeply. His face and his lips backed away from my face, but stayed close.

His retreat was, of course, what I signaled to him, but I still wanted him. With both hands, I slowly, almost reluctantly reached for his head, and I began to gently caress the back of his neck. As he calmed down, I stood on my tiptoes and gently kissed his closed lips. I kissed the edge of his mouth and his cheek and came back to his still-closed lips. Gently, I opened my mouth and barely touched his lips with my tongue. He didn’t pull back from my lips, but he didn’t open to receive me either. I continued to stroke his head and to tease his lips. Slowly, the aggressive tenseness subsided, and he opened his lips to receive my kisses. I was thrilled! His kiss this time was gentle and caring. We held the kiss for a few moments. But as quickly as he opened to me, he closed again, and this time our bodies backed apart.   

He hung his head to his chest and said quietly. “Charley, I’m sorry, I lost control there. Did I hurt you? I am so very sorry.”

I put my fingertip under his chin and raised it so I could meet his eyes. “You didn’t hurt me, I’m okay.” I said and smiled.

I lay my head on his chest, put my arms around his back and pulled him to me, as tightly as possible. His heart was beating against his chest, strong enough for me to feel it against my cheek. I knew something was going on within him, and I suspected I knew what it was. I just wasn’t sure if I had a right to ask. Or more to the point … dared to.

In those few moments, my heart went out to him; not from the kisses, but from his obvious vulnerability.  I decided to take a chance. “Can I ask you something?”

He relaxed his grip on my waist and held me softly, slowly stroking my wet tangled hair. “Yes; anything.”

“How long has it been?”

It seemed like an eternity, and I was afraid I had gone too far. But he continued to hold me. I could feel a soft quiver in his body.

Finally, in a voice barely loud enough to be heard over the rain, he said. “Five years or six years maybe, I lost count.”

“Is that what Loretta was about? Was she going to be the first in all that time?”

Funny, I was hoping he would help me, and I’m helping him. We were just two sick puppies in need of someone to hold.

“Charley, Loretta was available. I was far from home, no one knows me, and she didn’t act like she would reject me. So, yeah, she would have been the first.”

“I thought so.”

“Honestly, I haven’t been with a woman since my divorce. No, it goes back a year before my divorce. You know the old ‘fool me once…’ principle.  First, I was mad and determined not to be disappointed again. I became mad at all women. I was in no shape to even think about sex, or having a relationship. Finally, I just stopped caring and started drinking. Not enough to affect my coaching or anything else. At first, I needed something to cut the edge off my memories. But the habit took over, and I no longer needed a reason to drink. So alcohol took the place of sex and affection.”

“Coach, you don’t have to tell me all this. It sounds pretty personal.”

I had seen too many men, and a few women, who tried to hide their problems inside a bottle. Almost every one of them needed someone to tell their troubles to. It seemed to be part of the healing process. But I wasn’t sure that I was the one to carry this burden for him.

“I need to tell you,” he said gently.

Internally I smiled. I almost forgot why I had been so excited to see him again. It was like we were starting afresh. I sat on the bench in the middle of the gazebo and pulled him down. “Sit with me, let’s talk. What happened?”

It was like pulling the plug at the bottom of a water tower. At first the water leaks out then it gushes. The words and emotions began to flow, a trickle at first and then rapidly, as he told me of his marriage to Sybil Zimmer, one of Memphis’ most attractive sports reporters. They had a whirlwind romance and married during his last year with the Grizzles.

“Charley, I thought I was in love with Sybil. She was beautiful, intelligent, a tiger in bed, the hit of the party. She said she loved me, but I know now she loved the spotlight more. When my injury forced me to retire, I got an assistant coaching job at a local junior college basketball program. Charley, I fell in love with coaching young men, and they loved me.  It was truly a perfect match. Sybil was not too happy about it. For her it was a status thing, and assistant coaches at unknown schools didn’t rank very high on her social standards list.”

By now I was hooked. He was telling the story in great detail and for him it was important to get everything out just right. Gradually he began to slow the pace, and I could feel the tension developing as he began wrapping up. His eyes began to tear up. He let go of my hands and buried his own hands into his lap. I knew he needed help to finish.

“What happened?”

“I came home early from a game we had outside the city.  The plan was for us to spend the night and return the next day. But one of the kids got sick, food poisoning I think. We made the decision to drive back to the school early. I got back to our apartment around 1:30.”

His teeth clenched, his eyes became hard and deep burrows lined his forehead. The anger building in his mind was written over his face.

“She, that goddamn bitch, was in bed with some bastard, one of the guys she worked with, I think. I was so enraged. I couldn’t see him clearly in the dark. When I walked in on them, she didn’t even bother to apologize, or even act surprised. That whore leaned over and kissed the mother, and told him she would see him the next day!”