Lessons From a Younger Lover (23 page)

Gwen and Chantay sat running their toes through the hot, white sand. Neither had ever been to Jamaica, and so far, the friendly, festive island was living up to the hype.

“Gwen, thanks again for inviting me to come with you, girl. This is one helluva way to spend Christmas vacation!”

“Yeah, well, I think we both deserve it. But you're sure your daughters were okay with you not being there?”

“Please, they were helping me pack! Sienna and her dude are talking about getting married. Her ass is pregnant and she actually thinks I, her mother, don't know.”

“Oh no, Chantay. You, a grandmother? Are you ready for that?”

“No, but neither was my mother. At least her boyfriend has some sense, plus he graduated college. He's got a pretty good job and seems to be treating her right. She's happy.”

“But so young.” Gwen was thirty when she got married and wondered even then if she was ready. “How's Sharonna enjoying her time with the paternal grandparents?”

“They're spoiling her, so she's loving it, trying to throw money at all those growing up years they missed with her. But that was mostly my and Tashon's fault though. When I was mad at him, which was often, none of his family saw her.”

“Is Tashon spending Christmas in Portland, too?”

“Yes, with his wife and kids. It's good for Sharonna to get to know her half siblings. At the end of the day, it's all good, especially me being here on this beach. I didn't know how much of life I was missing!”

“Well, I wanted to do something special with my part of the profit from the condo sale, so here we are.”

“I wonder what Joe is doing with his part.”

“For all I care, he can stick it up his—”

“Now, now, Gwendolyn, keep your blood pressure down. He's out your life. You can wish him well now.”

She could have gone all day without mentioning that fool
. But Gwen knew that Chantay was right. Hard feelings and grudges for things in the past weren't productive for anyone. She repositioned her large, floppy hat and leaned the lounge chair back farther. “I hope Derek wasn't too mad that you decided to spend the holidays without him.”

“If he is, he'll get over it. Or knowing his horny ass, he'll get over another pair of legs.”

Gwen turned and looked at her friend. “You really think he'd cheat on you?”

Chantay shrugged. “He's a man, ain't he? Most men will screw anything with a hole in it.”

Gwen put down her virgin piña colada and frowned out at the impeccable afternoon. She watched as waves lazily beat against the ocean shore, a small boat bobbed up and down in the distant water, and a flock of birds flew overhead. Then laying her head back against the chair, she closed her eyes and thought about Ransom.

Things hadn't been the same since Gwen caught Brea in Ransom's room almost a month ago, and she wouldn't deny the strain in the relationship was largely her fault. For his part, Ransom had worked hard to reestablish their warm camaraderie. He'd called the day after the incident, and they'd met and talked about Brea…
again.

“Baby, this is exactly what she wanted to do…come between us,” Ransom had pleaded. “Let's not give her the satisfaction of that happening.”

Gwen had tried to put that night behind her. But every time she became intimate with Ransom, an image of Brea's perfect, near-bare body swam into her consciousness and brought out every insecurity she ever had. She became reticent in their lovemaking, inhibited, holding back. Having loved raw for some time and not worried about pregnancy, Gwen had even insisted Ransom start using a condom again, just in case. Gwen's feelings were all over the place, and she didn't like how that felt. So when the real estate agent called with the news of the sale, she immediately booked a vacation away from Ransom and the drama of Sienna. Anywhere near his magnetism and she couldn't think straight. And that's exactly what she needed to do—think.

“I guess Ransom could be screwing Brea right about now,” she said after a while. “Or somebody…”

“Aw, hell, girl. I didn't mean to make you go there. Ransom and Derek are two different men.”

“But you just said that men don't care who they screw—”

“Yeah, and sometimes I talk too much. You came here to relax and regroup. Don't ruin your vacation letting your imagination get the best of you. Ransom told you that he explained what's up to that ho: you are his woman and she is his baby mama. End of story. From what you've told me, you don't have a reason to worry.”

“Yeah, well that
ho
in Sienna with me in Jamaica is plenty reason,” Gwen responded quietly. “Who am I kidding? There is no way I can compete with that girl. She's got everything—”

“Except your man. And if I was fuckin' somebody that fine, you bettah believe
he
would be here instead of you.”

“What? You would have chosen Derek over me if given the choice?”

“Baby, ain't that much sistah-girl love in the world where I'd choose a BFF over some good dick.”

“Chantay, you are so crass sometimes.”

“I'm just keeping it real as a happy meal.”

Gwen looked out at the beautiful view in front of her and sighed deeply. It would have been incredible to be here with Ransom.
What was I thinking?
Maybe she wasn't, she decided. “I'm just so
confused
about everything,” she said with anguish in her voice. “Ransom is darn near half my age with a young daughter and women after him who put me to shame. What chances do we have of a lasting relationship? What about five years, ten years, twenty years from now. I'll be sixty-one and he'll just be forty-five!”

“No. You'll be dead from worrying too much. Girl, you need to put some alcohol in your next drink, 'cause your sobriety is driving me insane.” Chantay sat up. “Either insane or seeing thangs…Is that my imagination or are those two fine-ass brothahs heading in our direction?”

Gwen followed Chantay's gaze and saw two handsome men indeed coming their way. One was tall, dark chocolate, with long dreadlocks. The other was a medium-height, butterscotch cutie with a stocky, muscular build and bald head. Both were smiling as they approached.

“Well, it looks like we have two fine creatures here now,” the dark-skinned one said in the singsong accent that Jamaicans made famous. “You two lovelies want us to show you around the island?”

Gwen was about to decline when Chantay interrupted. “Baby, you can show me around whatever you want!”

“Oh, so you ladies are looking for a good time?”

Gwen once again began to speak. “Thank you but—”

“We'd love to get the personalized tour,” Chantay finished. “And then later you two gentlemen can take us to dinner. Do you think you can do that?”

The tall, dark chocolate man offered a broad smile. His answer was simple: “Yeah, mon.”

 

Gwen sang loudly as she drove down the interstate. She and Chantay had arrived back to the states in one piece, and after dropping her off, Gwen was on her way home. She waited for the next track to begin with a smile on her face.
Man! It feels good to feel good.

She and Chantay had finished their vacation in grand fashion, a party cruise around the island in a luxury yacht. This courtesy of Johnny, the dark-as-a-raisin-and-twice-as-sweet brothah that Chantay had ended up spending the night with after their introductory dinner, and most of the nights thereafter. Brothah Butterscotch was not so fortunate, and after Gwen rebuffed his initial advances, she never saw him again.

Gwen didn't begrudge Chantay's case of island fever. The time she spent alone was much needed, and allowed her to find clarity in her crazy situation. This was why Gwen felt so good. She finally realized that she didn't have to accept what was happening to her. She didn't have to be a part of the drama that swirled around her: the small-town gossip, the small-school shenanigans, Adam's trippin' and Brea's dippin'. Gwen's mother was still improving and had even made a male friend at the assisted living facility. Gwen had escaped the confines of a small town before; she would do it again. Gwen felt so good because somewhere between the white sand and the blue ocean, the jerk chicken and the fried plantain, the reggae music and the shot of Jamaican rum that had sent her into a coughing frenzy, she had made a decision. She was going to once again take control of her life. Gwen didn't know where she'd be living when the new school year started, but she knew one thing for sure: it wouldn't be in Sienna.

It was an unlikely cast of characters: Adam, Joanna, Carol, and Brea. Adam and Joanna sat huddled on Brea's love seat while Carol stood, arms crossed, by the door. Brea sat in the middle of her couch looking regal, beautiful, and in total control—as if she were holding court.

Brea wanted Ransom, bottom line. And after what had transpired over the holidays, she knew she would have him. They'd spent a little time on Christmas together—her, Ransom, and Isis. She'd dressed to impress, definitely sexy. There was no way he hadn't wanted her. That's probably why he ran out of her mother's house so soon. Having learned her lesson with the hotel fiasco, however, Brea had been the epitome of propriety. She knew Gwen had gone on vacation with a girlfriend. Not a good sign when you take another female to paradise instead of your man. Success was within Brea's grasp. She'd decided to step up her game and exhaust all her resources.

The seed for how she'd secure her future with Ransom was planted a week ago, during a casual conversation with Adam. Brea had voiced how much easier getting back with Ransom would be if Gwen were totally out of the picture. Adam had said he was sick of her too, and wished he hadn't hired her to teach at Sienna. “She's not that good a teacher,” he'd said, having become more and more critical of her professional performance with each personal rebuff. “I wish she'd take her ass back to Chicago!” There it was—Brea's answer. Gwen leaving Sienna would take her not only out of Ransom's life, but their daughter's as well.

Involving Joanna and Carol had been Adam's idea. He didn't want whatever scheme they cooked up to be traced back to him. He liked his job as principal of Sienna Elementary. It gave him a sense of power, importance, and a steady supply of willing female teachers to bed. These two, he'd argued, could do the dirty work. Brea had adamantly refused at first, as she trusted few females. But after a conversation with her mother, Brea decided to follow her advice and “keep her enemies closer.” War made strange bedfellows indeed. But Brea wanted it understood right up front that she was the general.

“Just so y'all know,” she said, looking pointedly between Carol and Joanna, “I don't like either of you bitches. You stabbing Gwen in the back means you'd stab me too. Especially you,” she added, fixing Carol with a stare. “But Adam told me y'all want Gwen gone as much as I do, and that four heads working on getting this done might be better than one. Was he right?”

Carol's eyes narrowed.
The feeling is mutual, bitch
. But rather than voice her obvious contempt, she decided to play it cool. “I'm only here because
Adam
asked me.” She had absolutely no intention of helping Brea with any kind of scheme. Carol was at this meeting for one reason only: to find out what Brea was up to so she could take the information straight to Ransom and get back in his good graces. Then she'd use concern for her daughter as an excuse to back out of any assistance Adam might expect.
I don't need to run my competition out of town. I can play your hand better than you can
. Carol smiled at the thought. By trying to eliminate Gwen, Brea would effectively eliminate herself.

“I'm only here because of Adam too,” Joanna echoed, moving closer to her Svengali. And because Carol had asked for backup. Joanna had spent her entire life in small towns, and had never met anyone as worldly as her new friends. She'd never had a confidante like Carol, and had never been sexed so thoroughly either. She was whipped enough to do whatever Adam asked her. Lastly, it didn't hurt that he was Joanna's boss. Job security was a good thing.

Adam disengaged himself from Joanna and stood. It was time to end the catfight and get this meeting back on track. His first plan to break up Gwen and his brother had failed. Joseph Smith was obviously a wimp, since he couldn't even step up his game enough to collect ten g's. It was time to implement Plan B. “Now that you ladies have emphasized the obvious—that you don't like each other—can we get down to business? We need to work on how to make this happen.” He looked around to make sure he had everyone's attention. “Okay, here's what I know. Gwen is very protective of her reputation. She hates a scandal. And believe me, a scandal involving an elementary school teacher would be big news. If we do this right, and keep our own personal animosities in check, we can embarrass Gwen Andrews right out of town.”

Gwen's fatigue finally came down on her as she rolled her luggage into the bedroom. The blinking light on the answering machine told her she had messages, and reminded her she'd forgotten to turn on her cell phone while driving from LA. After taking a long, hot shower and fixing a cup of hot chocolate, Gwen sat on the bed and pushed Play.

The first message was from Robert, obviously left before he'd called on her cell to wish her a good time in Jamaica and inform her that indeed a daughter, Lorraina, would be joining the Seattle Andrews clan. The next couple messages were from her mother, who'd obviously forgotten Gwen's plans to leave town. It was a good thing, Gwen mused, that she'd phoned her every day from the island. Still, her mother was doing so much better. It was the only reason Gwen had felt free enough to take the vacation, that and the fact that Gerald and his family had spent Christmas with Lorraine. The third and fourth calls were hang-ups. The fifth message was from Miss Mary, asking her to phone when she got in so her neighbor would know she was back safely. The last message was from Ransom:

“Butterfly…where are you? You're supposed to be back by now. Call me as soon as you get this.”

After placing quick calls to Miss Mary and her mother, letting them know she was back home safely, Gwen fluffed her pillows, hit Ransom's speed dial number, leaned back and waited for him to answer. Having made her decision to change her life one way or the other made her feel more capable of talking to him, and of dealing with whatever had transpired between him and Brea over the holidays.

“Hey, Ransom.”

“Damn! I was getting ready to send my boys out on a search party.”

“I'm sorry. I forgot to turn my cell phone on when we landed. How are you doing?”

“Missing you,” Ransom said, in a voice that stroked her where she hadn't been stroked in ten days.

Gwen felt herself melting, and second-guessing her decision to leave both the town and this man behind. “I missed you too.”

“Yeah, tell me anything. With those hot Jamaicans ‘down dere,' I'm sure they kept you two beautiful ladies entertained.”

Gwen laughed.

“So I'm right.”

“You're half right.” Gwen shared the highlights of her vacation, including her snorkeling adventure, rum shot, and Chantay and Johnny's affair.

“Uh-huh,” Ransom said when she finished. “And just who was keeping you warm at night?”

“The balmy weather,” Gwen quickly replied. “And when the air chilled, a blanket. I spent quite a bit of time by myself, but it was what I needed. Time to think, you know?”

“About us?”

“About everything.”

“So…care to share these thoughts?”

Gwen was quiet a moment. She actually wasn't ready to share her plans with Ransom, or anyone else. They were too new, too sketchy. When she had all her ducks in a row, namely a new teaching assignment, then she felt it would be time to reveal all.

“How was your holiday?” she asked, diverting Ransom's question. “Did Isis like the gift I bought her?”

“Almost more than the ones I got her, especially since it came from you.”

“How was Phoenix?”

“Hot. But Mama and Daddy spoiled Isis to death. In fact, she's going to spend a month with them this summer. They couldn't believe how big she's grown, or how fast time flies.”

There was a lull in the conversation as Gwen pondered how to ask what she really wanted to know, whether Brea had joined Ransom and Isis in Phoenix. As often happened, Ransom read her mind.

“Isis enjoyed spending time with Brea and Pam, too. We left Phoenix Christmas afternoon, and I dropped Isis off at Pam's so she could spend some time with that side of the family. In fact, that's where she is now, in Los Angeles. I'm going to pick her up on New Year's Day.”

“Oh, so that means…”

“It means I purposely kept New Year's Eve open to bring in with my butterfly. I'm asking you to spend New Year's Eve with me. And yes is the only answer allowed.”

Gwen didn't hesitate. There was no use trying to deny it. She'd missed her man. “I'd love to spend it with you, Ransom,” she breathed.

“Good,” he said. “Now get a little rest while I drive over.”

“Tonight? Right now?”

“Yes, right now, woman. I haven't seen you for almost two weeks. Do you think I'm going to wait until tomorrow? Now try and catch a catnap because you're going to need it. I've got a special present for you that will probably fit perfectly inside the one that I know you have for me.”