Wisdom Seeds (7 page)

My heart sank when Andrea said she had to finish a paper and couldn't go to the PUMP meeting. My hope was renewed when Alicia said she was meeting some of her sorority sisters there.

As we were getting out of the car that voice greeted me.

“Well hello stranger.”

My heart beat faster as Gregory walked over to us.

“Hello stranger to you, too,” I said trying not to sound so excited.

“I was hoping you'd be here tonight.” His smile was perfect.

Alicia cleared her throat.

“Gregory, this is my cousin Alicia,” I said introducing them.

“Call me Greg – Gregory is so formal.” He shook Alicia's hand, keeping his eyes on me.

Alicia smiled at him and turned to me. “Meet me at the double doors at one o'clock.” She walked ahead of us and turned to look at me again after she crossed Fifth Avenue.

“Where've you been hiding?” Greg asked as we took our time walking to the Student Union.

“Around, working, getting acclimated.”

“Is that all?” His voice was deep and sexy.

“That's it.” I shrugged.

“Sounds exciting.”

I smiled realizing his closeness made me nervous. “I looked for you at The Sanctuary on Sunday.”

He held the door for me. We found two seats in the lobby.

“Church?” He smirked. “Haven't been since Mother's Day – but I had to work. I'm on every Sunday.”

“On? What do you do?”

“Stock shelves at the Giant Eagle,” he stated with a straight face.

“Stock shelves?”

“I'm just kidding,” he began to laugh. “I'm a resident at Children's Hospital.”

My response should have been sarcastic, but my nervousness would only let me smile.

He took my hand. “You believed me.”

“No I didn't.” I couldn't stop smiling.

Greg was staring at me and then asked, “What about you? What brings you here?”

“I'm interning at Western Psych.”

“Interesting. What department?” He played with my fingers as we talked.

“Epidemiology,” I stated matter-of-factly.

“Sounds different – I can tell that's your MO. You're different, that what I like about you.”

“You don't even know me.” I responded trying to maintain my composure, but his hand was warm and his presence engulfing.

Greg kissed my hand. “I'd like to.”

It was a line and I knew it. I didn't care, he was absolutely gorgeous. Greg noticed everything about me – my earrings, my shoes, he made me laugh – and that made me feel special. Hard as I tried to dominate some of our conversation, he wanted to talk about me.

Greg gently pulled me to my feet and we followed the music down the hall to the PUMP meeting. “Where are you from?” He held the door open and smiled at me.

I responded without looking at him. “Smithtown.”

“Who?”

“Smithtown, New Jersey. Don't tell me you've never heard of it,” I teased, feeling a little relaxed.

“Never heard of it. I confess.”

“It would probably fit inside this campus!”

We found a table by the door and sat down across from each other.

“How many boyfriends are waiting for you to come home?”

“I don't have any love stories about a high school sweetheart waiting for me to return home. There were only two kinds of boys in Smithtown – the ones who wanted to have sex with me to say they were first and the ones who were afraid of my dad.”

“Is your dad the sheriff?”

“Sort of. He's in charge of everybody's soul – he's the Pastor.”

“So you're a church girl?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“No offense,” he said laughing. “I'm just trying to get the playing rules straight.”

I wasn't sure what was funny. “What are we supposed to be playing?”

“Come on now, don't get serious on me. I'm just trying to get to know you.”

“You haven't answered the question.” I folded my arms.

Greg reached across the table and took my hand. “No games. I can tell by your smile we might be able to have something good.”

His words sounded good and I couldn't help blushing. We left the party and went for a walk around the Cathedral of Learning.

Alicia and I were in the car going home when I realized I didn't know much about Greg.

“I didn't see you all night,” Alicia stated with raised eyebrows.

“Greg and I went for a walk.”

“So what's his story?”

“He's a resident at Children's Hospital. He's from Harrisburg.” I recalled the only two things I knew about him.

Although Greg and I exchanged numbers, I waited to see how long it would take him to call. He called the next day and invited me to a movie that evening. That was the beginning of seeing Greg regularly. We talked on the phone almost every day and went out three or four times a week, when his schedule permitted.

“I'd like to meet your family,” I announced on our way to dinner three weeks later.

His tone flattened. “No, that's not a good idea.”

I was confused by his response. “Why?”

“I'm not ready for you to meet them. Not yet!”

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” his tone became even more direct, “when I'm ready for you to meet them I'll let you know.”

His tone made me angry and I pressed him. “Well, when will that be?”

He never answered or looked at me. We rode to the restaurant in silence.

“Dani, it's complicated. There are a lot of issues.” His tone was apologetic as we turned into the Red Lobster parking lot.

Sitting with my arms crossed and staring out the window, I remained silent.

Greg parked in the back of the lot, then he took my hand and kissed it gently. “I never know what's going on at home. My little brother is a gangster wanna be who's always got trouble with him – he's either in jail or working his way back. Police, gang bangers, ghetto girls, drug dealers – you never know who's looking for him and who's at the door.”

“I'm so sorry,” I said regretting my anger.

“My mother cries a lot and my father drinks a lot,” he continued. “My sister Jackie moved to California when she was eighteen, said she couldn't take it anymore. Gwen had her first baby when she was fourteen, she now has three kids and she's only twenty. I do the best I can.”

Not knowing what to say, I sat there holding back tears. I understood family dysfunction very well. I squeezed his hand and stroked his face.

“I wish I could hold you,” he whispered in my ear. “I could use a hug.”

It was awkward trying to hug him in the car across the console. He smelled good.

“I'm sorry.” He smiled and softly kissed my cheek. “This was no way to start our date.”

“We don't have to stay,” I told him

“Are you sure? I did promise you dinner.”

“I'll be okay, will you?”

“Be better if you'd come by my place for a while.”

Greg lived a few blocks from Carnegie Mellon University in a one-bedroom apartment on Forbes Avenue. There were flyers from several pizza places posted over the mailboxes. The wood banister to the second floor had been preserved and was the only reminder that this had once been a single-family house. He lived in apartment three.

Greg confessed to being a fan of Richard Roundtree and we settled on the couch with Shaft, iced tea and chipped ham sandwiches. By the middle of the movie we were snuggled on the couch. I was holding Greg's left hand to keep it out of my shirt and his right arm was wrapped tightly around my waist. I could feel his heart beating. His body was warm and it felt good being so close to him.

“This was better than Red Lobster.”

I turned to smile at him and he kissed me. First lightly on my lips and then he was kissing me down my neck. I melted at his touch and then he was on top of me. His warm hands were on my back pulling me closer to him.

“Stop!” I pushed him away and scooted back so I could sit up. He felt good, but I didn't want to lead him on. Sex was not what I had planned for the evening.

“No pressure,” he smiled. “That's not why you're here.”

He kept his hands to himself for the rest of the movie and then drove me home. Standing at the door, he whispered in my ear, “I had a great time. Can we do this again?” Then he kissed my forehead.

I smiled knowing I would see him again and again and again.

Our dates typically began with dinner or going to the mall and seemed to always end up in his apartment. He was so comfortable. Five weeks into the relationship, I let Greg
make love to me. It was a balmy Friday night at the end of July – too humid for the drive-in and too late to go anywhere else. We were lying on the couch in front of the fan watching my favorite movie, Love Story, when he put his hands under my shirt. He started kissing me down my neck and his hands were unfastening my bra. I didn't want to say no and I didn't want him to stop. While the movie played to the living room furniture, we played house in the bedroom.

I watched Greg sleeping and studied his body. He looked good all over. My feelings frightened me, but being with Greg felt good. My parents would kill me if they found out. Nana had told me that losing my virginity was a special gift to be shared only with my husband. “No other man should ever know you intimately.” I could hear her voice and see that serious expression on her face. I could marry Greg, I told myself. I think I love him.

Not wanting to wake him, I slipped out of bed and into my clothes. I left a note: ‘I'll give you a call later'. I signed it with a heart.

Driving home I wished I could have stayed in bed with Greg. I wanted to wake up in his arms but I had borrowed Andrea's car and could never explain spending the night with Greg to her. It was five-thirty in the morning and I was sure Andrea would be clocking my check-in time.

It was noon when I rolled over to the whispers of my cousins talking in the other room. Then the front door closed and I heard the car start. Assuming they were gone, I decided to get up.

“Late night?” Andrea asked in a maternal tone as I came out of the kitchen.

“Yeah.” I smiled at the memory.

“I heard you in the shower this morning.”

I didn't respond.

“Dani, what do you really know about Greg?” The pitch in Andrea's voice escalated. “Rumor has it he's married.”

“He's not married,” I disputed. “He doesn't wear a wedding ring and there are no pictures of anyone in his apartment. And if he's married, where is his wife?” I stated in defense of her allegation.

“Dani, I just don't want you to get hurt.” Andrea followed me back to the bedroom over pronunciating her words. “First you start spending all you time with him, when he's available, and now you're sleeping with him. You know better than that.”

“He has a crazy schedule. I told you he's a resident.”

“Do you love him?” Andrea was point blank.

“Yes.” I answered confidently, even though I wasn't really sure.

“Does he love you?”

“Yes.”

“Enough to marry you?”

“We never talked about it.” I felt like I was being interrogated.

“Well if you're having sex,” she stated sarcastically.

“Making love,” I corrected her.

“Having sexual intercourse outside the bonds of marriage,” Andrea continued, “then you should get married. If it's that real, make it right before God.”

“You sound like my dad.” I plopped down on the bed, burying my face in the pillow. I knew Andrea was right.

I was starving but my efforts to avoid conversation with Andrea kept me in my room. Guilt began to set in and regret began to pollute my memory of the previous night.

Greg called later that afternoon – he wanted to go to
the movies after his shift. I didn't care about seeing a movie, I needed to talk to him and tried not to let my anxiety show in my voice.

It was almost nine o'clock when Greg picked me up.

“You're glowing,” he told me as I got in the car.

My bottom lip began to quiver. “We need to talk.”

“What's the matter?”

I began to cry. I was confused and angry with myself.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Greg pulled over and came around to my side of the car. He opened the door, knelt down and took my hand. “What's the matter? What happened?”

“I'm not that type of person. I don't just sleep around.”

He wiped my tears. “This is real girl. I love you.”

“Really?” I asked, needing to be sure.

“Yes, really,” he smiled. “I love you.”

“Do you love me enough to marry me?”

“Yes.” He bit his lower lip. “When the time is right. I need to get through my residency before I start planning the rest of my life.” Greg stood, pulling me to my feet and into his arms.

“I love you,” I said with my face buried in his chest. I never wanted him to let me go.

My relationship with Greg intensified and I was going to his apartment after work almost every day. Even though we told each other we wouldn't make love anymore, we always did. Andrea seemed to always know. I started leaving clothes at Greg's apartment so I could shower and change before going home. She still knew. No matter how hard I tried to convince her that I knew what I was doing, she was adamant that something was up with Greg and I was going to get hurt. It became a source of contention between us and Andrea made it clear that she did not approve.

Alicia refused to discuss Greg. “Sometimes when people that love you are trying to tell you something for your own good, you need to listen,” she said standing in my doorway one morning after one of my many late nights. “Everything that looks good is not good for you. Too much chocolate will rot your teeth.” She walked away and I heard her bedroom door close.