Charley (7 page)

 By now, Coach was breathing deeply and trying to regain some control of his emotions. I couldn’t do or say anything. I pulled his head to my chest and let him cry.

After a few minutes, he pulled back, wiped his face with his wet tee-shirt and said to me. “Charley, I apologize for my swearing.”

“That’s okay, I’ve heard worse for lesser reasons.”

“I wasn’t going to come to this convention, until they told me it was going to be at the Summit Hotel in Nashville. I remember that first time, when I saw you at the Boys and Girls Club benefit in Memphis, and you said that you were from Nashville. You were beautiful, sexy and knew more basketball than any woman I know. It was like we were two peas in a pod. You fascinated me.”

“That’s sweet PJ, but I was married.”

“I know, I screwed up and you made me pay. That’s why I came back that night to apologize to you and Randle, and why I gave you and Randle those tickets.  I needed to see you again. In the last six months, Charley, I’ve been having those same feelings. I needed to see you again. Only problem is I remembered your name as Charley Brewster, but I didn’t know how to find you. I knew you lived here, but I didn’t know where either of you worked and neither you or Randle are in the phone book. To complicate things you changed your name. I guess everyone knows you as Charlotte Howard now, but I didn’t. And you’ve changed so much that I didn’t recognize you, even when you introduced yourself last night. Charley, I’ve been dreaming about you for months.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I kept rolling it around in my mind.
He
, has been dreaming of
me
? Now what do I do? I still wanted to see if he was as good in reality as he was in my dreams. This just didn’t seem to be the place. “We need to talk more. I have some things to tell you as well. Why don’t you go change clothes and come down to Jimmy’s about 7:00.We’ll have that dinner I offered last night, and we will be able to talk.”

“Why don’t you come up to my room with me now? We can talk there.”

“Slow down Coach, you got to first base, but I don’t know yet whether you’re going to hit a home run. Okay? Coach, everyone in town knows me, from the sanitation workers to the mayor and the preachers. If word got out about you and me in your hotel room, I might find it hard to live around here.” I could see the disappointment in his eyes. “It’s best this way believe me.”

The rain stopped. Reluctantly, I took his hand and led him out of the garden and to the front door of the Summit. I stood on tiptoes, kissed his ear and whispered. “See you at 7:00.”

And I turned and walked away …

I didn’t care whether it was raining or not. It was a bright sunny day in my heart. He’s gorgeous, he’s sensitive, he’s been dreaming of me and he wants me. What else is there? Well, maybe we can find out about that later tonight.

I walked into the Bar, found Ronnie and walked over to him with a big smile on my face.

“So?” he asked.

“I like him. You would be proud, I was a good girl. He’s coming at 7:00 and I may not be as good then though.”

“Charley!” Ronnie winced.

I laughed my way into the kitchen and up the stairs to the apartment. I had no sooner gotten to the bedroom when I heard a knock on the door, and a soft voice.

“Charley, can I come in?”

Wilma had to be debriefed as well as Ronnie.

“What is the matter with your clothes?  They look like you wadded them up and threw them on the floor. What did you do?”

“Wilma, we got caught in the rain while walking through the Summit gardens. We tried to get to the gazebo, but didn’t make it.”

“And?”

“Nothing, he kissed me.”

“And?”

“I kissed him. And that’s all, I swear.”

Teasing Wilma was fun. “He’s coming for dinner tonight at 7:00, I’ll introduce you. Now get out of here. I’ve got to get ready.”

I walked the protesting Wilma to the door and returned to the bedroom. If Wilma and Ronnie knew PJ and I were both so sex starved, they would have conspired to keep us apart. Glad I didn’t tell them. But
I
knew, and that actually was a problem. I knew what I was going through, but six years? No sex for six years? That’s not natural. I couldn’t help but wonder what a man would be like without sex for that long. I didn’t want to push him too far; the way he kissed me in the gazebo scared me.

But I’m going to see what kind of lover he is. Nothing could be worse than this afternoon!

By the time 7:00 rolled around, I had the private owner’s booth set up with a white table cloth and a vase of fresh red roses, the flower of love, as a centerpiece. Our best silver and china were in place. It was an elegant table, used rarely. The privacy panels were partially assembled, ready to be closed as we dined and talked. I don’t know why, but I wanted this to play out as I’d planned it last night. I asked Ronnie to join me. “Ronnie, I want to pretend this is last night, and he comes to my booth instead of going with that other woman.”

“Charley, I will do whatever you want, but that sounds a bit weird. You guys have already spent a couple of hours together this afternoon.”

“I know, but indulge me, okay?”

Ronnie laughed back at me. “You’re like a teenager on a first date, aren’t you? Tell me what to do when your date arrives.”

“When he arrives, tell him ‘Jimmy’s owner would like for you to have dinner with her.’ Then escort him back and introduce us.”

“That’s all? … Ok, I can manage that.”

I knew, as soon as I told Ronnie what to do that it was stupid. I didn’t care, this is my fantasy. I want it to be romantic. I planned it for last night but that didn’t work, so I want it to work tonight. I sat at the table daydreaming. Would Randle approve of me dating PJ? Would he be mad, or would he be happy? I couldn’t decide which way I wanted. So I quit thinking about it.

A movement across the bar brought me back to attention. PJ walked in behind Ronnie. They stopped for a moment to talk and proceeded to my table.

Ronnie stopped at the table and in his best formal voice said. “Ms. Howard, I would like for you to meet Coach Phillip McCoy. Coach McCoy, I am pleased to introduce Ms. Charlotte Howard, the owner of Jimmy’s.”

And with that Ronnie left.

As Coach walked around the table, I slid out and stood to shake his hand.

As if he was following a script, he responded. “Hello, my name is Phillip McCoy.”

I was thrilled! When he introduced himself, my overly stimulated mind pulled up that distant memory of our very first meeting …

*****

… It was the Boys and Girls Club Annual Gala, years ago in Memphis. We had just eased into the huge ballroom at the Fairmont Hotel. It was our first time to attend the annual fundraising gala for the Boys and Girls Club. Most of the guests were part of the moneyed crowd in the area, and were in cliques talking among themselves, as if this was one of their weekly parties at the Club. We searched for a safe haven for nobodies, or at least for someone we knew. As we scanned the room, a tall friendly smile approached and extended his hand in greeting.

‘Hello, my name is Phillip McCoy,’ he had said.

Randle was startled and reacted nervously.

‘Oh … Hi! I’m Randle Brewster. And this is my wife Charlotte Brewster.’ Randle had extended his hand to shake, and I had a few moments to gather myself.

‘Did you say Phillip McCoy? I replied. “I mean
the
Memphis Grizzles Phillip McCoy? I mean, you sort of look like him … err … McCoy … err … Phillip McCoy?’ And in an embarrassment I will never live down, I blurted out. ‘Damn, you’re taller in person than on the Court … err … I mean … good to meet you Mr. McCoy.’

McCoy laughed. ‘Good to meet you, Mrs. Brewster, and yes to your question and your observation. Guilty on both accounts. I do play for the Grizzles and I have been told I was tall.’

In a serious tone, he whispered. ‘Do you guys feel as out of place as I do? I’m not used to this kind of attention.’

‘Neither are we,’ Randle answered. ‘But we love the work these guys do so we thought we would support them.’

The shared nervousness and similar interest had loosened the tension surrounding us. For the next ten minutes we talked basketball, the work of the Boys and Girls Club and about our interest in the Club’s work.

Randle interrupted us. ‘Charley, there’s Ralph Delmonico over there. I haven’t seen him in years. Do you mind if I excuse myself and go see him?’

‘Of, course not, honey, I’ll be okay.’

‘Great to meet you Phillip, see you later?’

‘Of course.’

Phillip and I settled back into conversation. ‘Did Randle call you Charley? I thought your name was Charlotte?’

‘Old nickname,’ I said. ‘Charlotte officially, but Charley in the real world.’

‘Oh …’

We continued talking. In a moment, he asked. ‘Charley, it’s getting stuffy in here. Why don’t we get some fresh air?’

With his hand firming on my waist, Phillip guided us through the crowd. I was twenty-five at the time, and the thought of the tall handsome athlete with his hand on my waist was thrilling. I had a wide smile as my youthful imagination kicked in. As we walked towards the balcony, I had to curb my enthusiasm. Was it my imagination, or was he really letting his hand slide lower on my hips? By the time we arrived on the balcony overlooking the hotel’s flower gardens, there was no mistake about it. His hand was on my butt! When we stopped at the railing, I felt his hand squeeze my butt a couple of times. That was no imagination! ‘What the hell are you doing? Get your hands off me.’ I was startled and reacted in a quiet but firm voice. ‘Who do you think you are?’

‘Charley, I’m sorry.  I just thought …’

Phillip struggled to find the right words.

‘Thought what? That I would just fall into your arms, you jerk! I may be young and naïve, but I am not one of your bimbos. I’m married and happily so!’

I was fuming by now and stretched my five foot ten inch frame to be sure my hand would land fully and firmly across his face. Having delivered my blow, I turned and stormed back into the ballroom, leaving Phillip glancing around in squirming embarrassment.

After the Gala dinner and program, as we were leaving, a familiar tall body suddenly stopped us in the lobby.

‘Randle, Charley, I want to apologize! Randle, I got fresh with Charley earlier. That’s not who I am, I’m so sorry. You are a lucky man. Charley is decidedly the prettiest and sexiest woman here tonight! Please forgive me for being such an ass.’

‘That’s okay Phillip. I told Randle and he just laughed. He said you couldn’t help yourself.  I understand. You’re forgiven this time.’ I turned to Randle. ‘Okay, honey?’

‘Sure, Charley … but Phillip, it will cost you!’

‘Anything! What do you want?’

‘Well, tickets to a Grizzles game, and a signed picture would heal a lot of wounds.’

‘I’ll have the tickets for the next five home games for you at will call.  I don’t have any pictures. Why don’t I sign the Gala’s program?’

‘Works for me, here you are on pages thirteen and fourteen.’

Phillip took the program and signed the two pictures. On one page he signed.
To My Biggest Fans. Phillip #37.
On the other page he signed
. Til We Meet Again, Phillip McCoy
…

*****

… “Ms. Howard, my name is Phillip McCoy. It’s so good to meet you.”

I shook my head and mentally recovered from my brief daydream while the memory of that first meeting pleasantly washed over me. I continued to play out our little charade. “I would be delighted, Coach, if you would have dinner with me.”

I motioned him to a seat beside me. As he sat down, we both laughed and I resumed the conversation. “Now that’s the way it was supposed to happen last night.”

“I know, sorry. I guess I had an attitude, didn’t I?”

“Well you knew what you wanted, and she looked like the answer, so you’re forgiven this time.  I’m just glad you’re here now.”

I leaned over to him and kissed him on the cheek. Impulsively, I brushed his lips as I sat back.

“See what you missed?”

He was visibly surprised by my kiss.

“Charley, you are definitely not what I would expect from a bar owner!”

“I hope not!” I replied and snickered.

The ever present Ronnie, on cue, showed up before we could get too mushy. “Ms Howard, may I get you and Coach McCoy something?”

I replied. “I’ll take another Peach Sangria, and for you Coach?”

“I’ll take a glass of water … with a twist of lemon please,” Coach told Ronnie. He explained. “I’ve been sober for eleven months now; I can’t take a chance …”

He reached for my hand, looked directly into my eyes and with a silky tone, he spoke quietly. “Now that I’ve met you.”

“You smooth devil you. Keep talking like that and you may hit a home run tonight.”

Without taking my eyes off the handsome young athlete, I spoke back to Ronnie. “Ronnie, we would like some privacy. Could you have the staff finish setting it up, please? Oh, and bring us some appetizers too; perhaps some calamari, Coach?”

I could feel Ronnie grinning. “Yes, Ma’am.”

But Ronnie’s low monotone let me know he still didn’t approve of the privacy setting for this evening. Nevertheless, he did as I requested, and left to put in the drink orders and arrange for the privacy panels to be put in place.

“Charley, I must say, you seem to have the attitude of a bar owner but I could never tell it by looking at you.”

Coach’s face lit up with his smile, and I could see instantly why I was first attracted to him. I smiled back and prepared to hear some of that Midwestern charm.

He never skipped a beat.

“You’re beautiful and sexy. I love your long hair. It looks better dry and brushed than it did soaking wet. And the tan … do you lay out in the sun often?”

If you only knew, Coach. I might let you see there are no tan lines, if you are a good boy!

“I try to get to the tanning salon occasionally before summer comes. Then I lay out a bit.”