Read Layover Online

Authors: Peaches The Writer

Layover (30 page)

That’s one way of looking at it.

“Not exactly.”

“Ny, stop bullshitting me. Tell me what’s up. I’m your friend. If you tell me the truth, you will feel better.”

“Alright, Kita. Kenny and I are splitting up and I don’t want to go to the gala alone.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Nya. Let me know what I need to do to help you get through this. But Ny, this gala is very important. You can’t let marital problems stand in the way of you growing your business. The two are totally unrelated. Now, if you are worried about showing up without a stunning beau on your arm, I can help you out. I will pair you with one of the guests from my “A” list - guaranteed to be one of the “Who’s who.”

“Thanks, Kita. But I’m not interested in dating right now.”

“I’m not talking about dating. I’m talking about having a male guest for the dinner. We can’t have you walking around looking all desperate and unstable without a man. Besides, women are very threatened by a gorgeous, self-sufficient, single lady. They are afraid of you taking their man. No one is even going to talk to you if you don’t have a man with you. The men who are going to be there will be too afraid of their wives to talk to you about helping you in your business.”

“That’s why I don’t want to go.”

“No. You have to go. If you’re my friend, you will be there. But don’t worry, Ny. I will make sure you have a nice date to take. And don’t fret, it will only be for one night. You will never have to see or talk to him again,” she assured me.

“I hate doing this. But if it means that much to you, I have no choice.”

“You won’t regret it,” she told me.

“Well, let me go now. I have to make sure I have something to wear.”

“I’ll call you later with the details. I’m going to have you come to my house to meet your date and we will all ride to the dinner hall in the limo.”

“That’s fine. Call me later.”

I hung up the phone. I couldn’t believe that Kita never said, ‘I told you so’. Maybe she was so caught up in this party that she didn’t even think to rub it in. Not to worry, though. She will have plenty of time at the charity function to tell me what a bad decision I made to marry Kenny.

I spent the next couple of days praying that Allen would call me so I wouldn’t have to go on this date. Kita says it’s only for one night, but she will probably try to set me up with someone that she thinks I will like, to help me get over Kenny. Little does she know, I am so over Kenny, but I may need help getting over Allen if he doesn’t come back to me.

The days had gone by and Allen still had not called. It was the day of the gala and I was sick and nervous all at the same time. I was just hoping that in my delicate state, I didn’t start throwing up all over everyone and everything. I slipped into my gorgeous Gianni Versace gown and prayed that my stomach didn’t show a slight bump. I knew that I was early into the pregnancy, but I was so small, I thought anything would show on me. I checked myself in the mirror and the dress looked great. I swooped my long, raven Black hair up into a sassy French roll and pulled one lock down in the front and curled it. I always looked more sophisticated with my hair like that. When I wear it down, I look like I’m going to my 8th grade prom. A final inspection in the full length mirror served witness that everything was perfect, right down to the sequin Prada shoes. I almost felt sorry for the young man who would be escorting me because regardless of who he is, he would never stand a chance with me.

I grabbed my matching handbag and wrap and headed out the door. I was a little nervous and I was praying that I get through the evening without anything terrible happening. When I pulled up to Kita’s house, I smiled a little bit. I sold her this house almost a year ago and no one deserved it more. It was an immaculate, all-brick Tudor style home with a circular driveway. It set on almost two acres of clear, level land. The Black iron gate gave it royal appeal. Kita had made it and she was not to be stopped. I drove down the small hill to the rear entrance and came in through the pedestrian door. I wanted to be briefed before I met my date for the evening. Kita looked stunning and she was well aware.

“Is he here?” I asked, curious.

“Yeh, didn’t you see the limo outside when you drove up?”

“Well, when do I get to meet him?”

“Oh, now all of a sudden you are so interested.”

“I’m just ready to get this night over with,” I told her.

“In that case, come on. I’ll let you meet him now.”

I followed her into the living room. I stopped abruptly at the doorway when my eyes caught a glimpse of the man that was to escort me to the dinner. I was sure that it was an optical illusion. My heart was beating so hard and fast, it almost jumped out of my chest. There was no way it could be him. How could Kita have gotten him to come here? It’s not that I doubted her abilities, it’s just that so many years had passed since I had seen him. I wasn’t even sure if he even still remembered me. Kita grabbed my hand and pulled me the rest of the way into the living room. My body trembled nervously at the thought of having to face him again after all this time. Kita smiled at the look of shock and disbelief that consumed my face. And there he stood so tall and debonair, he smirked at the idea that they both had surprised me in such a way.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” he told me in the smooth baritone voice that still sent chills down my spine.

The last time I saw him was 4 1/2 years ago, when I placed the two the airlines airline tickets to Greece back in his hand and explained,

“I decided not to go, John. I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

He was devastated then and I wasn’t sure how he felt about it now. He was so sure he had me when he offered me the opportunity to spend the summer in Athens, Greece with him. It was his last ditch effort to try to get me to sleep with him. The eight months we dated were spent much in the same way.

It was the summer of 1996 and I had decided to complete some post graduate work towards a Master’s degree. Indiana University South Bend was one of a handful of schools willing to pay for it, so I decided to go there. On the second day of classes as I was headed to my car, this 6’10” young man explains to me that he is in dire need of a parking sticker and would I be kind enough to let him use mine. I told him that the answer was no, but that I would show him where to get one in the student affairs office.

“I can’t go up in there. People always make a scene when I go into places like that. I’m just trying to blend in,” he explained.

“Oh, is it because you are so tall?” I asked sympathetically.

“No, it’s because of who I am. Don’t you know who I am?” He asked in disbelief.

“No, should I?”

“You have to be tripping,” he told me. ”I play basketball.”

“Oh, for Indiana University? How exciting,” I remarked, as I continued to walk to my car.

“No, for Seattle. You’ve got to be playing with me.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are, but you can’t have my parking sticker. If you’re that famous, you need to take internet courses at home.”

He laughed. He continued to walk with me to my car and asked if we could exchange phone numbers. He seemed nice enough and I didn’t really know anyone in Indiana, so I agreed. It wasn’t until later that evening when I went the website of the professional basketball team for which he played, that I found out who he was: #4 John Camp. While I was surprised, I was hardly impressed. As it turned out later, that was one of the things he liked most about me. Coming from a family of wealth and status, I wasn’t starry-eyed and hungry for the fame and fortune associated with NBA stars. He tried to get me caught up by buying me anything I wanted and even more things that I didn’t. I wasn’t impressed. Even though my parents had money, they taught me not to waste it, but to respect it. I had absolutely no desire to “Bling bling”. We spent that incredible summer hanging out, laughing, playing video games, watching movies, eating, and studying. He wanted to be the man to take my virginity, but that was not an option without marriage. He tried everything, even introducing me to his mother, and telling me I could call her mom. I became friends with his sister Linda and his cousin Terri and we spent lots of time together as well. They all adored me because I was a refreshing break from the gold-digging trollips he usually attracted. Over the next few months, I fell very deeply in love with this tall, Black man and even when I went back home that fall, we remained close. He flew me to almost every basketball game and sent for me when he was off. Still, he continued to press the issue of sex and I continued to decline. Yet, we continued our relationship and I even spent Christmas with his family in Indiana. But after the holidays, things began to spiral downward. His phone calls were less frequent and shorter. I was invited to less and less games, and the gifts had stopped all together. I began to read stories in sports magazines about him with other women. It bothered me, but I never confronted him. I figured if I asked him about it he would just say that he had to ‘get some’ from somewhere. I was patient and never said a word. Then, on Valentine’s Day, he called me on the phone and told me to look out of my window. I looked out to find a brand new Mercedes-Benz in the driveway. He said that he was sorry for being so distant and this was his way of making up for it. The relationship seemed to get stronger and that spring he asked me if there was any place in the world that I would like to go. My parents said that Greece was a magnificent place and they enjoyed going there, so I told him that’s where I wanted to go. He bought the tickets early and gave them to me to hold until it was time to leave. Before long, he was buying me sexy lingerie and other suggestive things. It was then that I realized this trip was his plan to get me in bed. I told him straight up that I was saving myself for marriage. He took it that I was trying to pressure him into marriage and began to react defensively. That was when I knew I had to give him his tickets back and break up with him. I tried to give him the car back, but he told me,

“Keep it. That way every time you drive it, you will think of what you could have had.”

That’s what I did, too. I kept it. Right up until the time I decided to start my own company. I sold the car and used the money for my start-up costs. It was a hard decision to go from a Benz to a Jeep, but my parents always taught me not to value worldly things. I would rather drive a Jeep to my company everyday than drive a Benz to someone else’s.

That was the last time I had seen John, besides on television. I remember the emptiness I felt for a long time - until I met Kenny. Kenny made me laugh and forget. He was a breath of fresh air. He knew that I had just broken up with John, so he warned me ahead of time:

“I can’t wine you, dine you, or buy you anything.”

“I have everything I want already, except you,” I told him.

After that, Kenny was all mine.

Now I’m standing here looking at the man I walked away from that many years ago. Seeing him brought back a rush of memories from that summer we spent in South Bend. Before he could see the tears gush from my face, I darted back into the kitchen. Kita came in to comfort me.

“Ny, I’m sorry. I thought you would be thrilled.”

“It’s alright. I know you were just trying to help.”

“I’ll tell him it’s off,” she offered.

“No, I can do this, Kita. I know how much it means to you.”

“Nya, I will owe you big time for this. Just look at it as an opportunity to get out all of those bad feelings. Let him know exactly how you feel.”

“First, I have to figure out what that is.”

“What do you mean?” Kita asked, confused.

“I don’t know how I feel. I mean, I thought I was over him. But seeing him tonight, it’s as if time stood still.”

“Are you saying you still love John?”

“No, I’m just saying that my feelings are still very strong.”

“Well, tell him that. Maybe it will make you feel better. Look, we’ve got to go. Dry your eyes and let’s get going. We can’t have Birmingham’s premier real estate broker all swollen eyed and red faced. There are going to news stations covering this. This dinner is huge, Ny. Huge!”

I gathered myself and walked back into the living room. Kita and her date walked out to the limo and John and I followed.

“What was that back there?” he asked me as we walked to the limo.

“I had an allergic reaction,” I lied.

The driver was standing holding the car door open for us. John motioned for him to get into the driver’s seat and he closed the door. He then opened the door himself, and held it for us to get in. He was genuinely like that. He very instinctively opened doors and pulled out chairs for ladies. His mother had taught him well. We all got in and John sat close to me, but left enough space for a high level of comfort.

“So how is married life?” he asked me.

“Fine,” I answered dryly.

“It doesn’t sound like it,” he noticed.

“John, listen, I don’t really know what to say to you. It’s been years and we ended on a bad note. I’m not sure how we are going to get through this evening.”

He took my small, boney hand and placed it in his large, dark one. He rubbed the back of my hand with his other one. I felt safe and secure.

We arrived at the dinner and posed for many photo opportunities. We were seated and enjoyed a delicious dinner. The band was fabulous and many awards were handed out. I even received the award for Brightest New Real Estate Company. I was surprised, and John was impressed. As usual, Kita cleaned up with acknowledgements and awards. Hair was a big thing as far a Black businesses go, and she had the market cornered. John and I spent the evening laughing and reminiscing. I was glad that I came and even happier that he was here to help me not to think about Allen.

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