Dangerous Curves Ahead (Watchers Crew) (15 page)

BOOK: Dangerous Curves Ahead (Watchers Crew)
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I instantly knew who he was. John Stafford, Principal of Central High. We hadn’t found a time to meet in the last couple of days. Mainly, because I hadn’t returned his calls. Truthfully, because my hands were constantly otherwise engaged down my boyfriend’s pants.

Principal Stafford came up to me to a chorus of groans and whines from the children. My sister stepped in, eager to take his spot before her rapt children, but the children dispersed to opposite sides of the room before she reached the vacated chair.

“I’m sorry,” Principal Stafford said. “I know what this must look like. I ran into your mother earlier this afternoon and she invited me over. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. I assumed it was probably a set up and was ready to decline. Then she told me the dinner menu and there was no way I was backing out.”

I giggled. He was funny, and non-threatening. Over my shoulder, my father gave me the thumbs up. I spied my mother in the kitchen picking out the good china.

My instinct was to pull Principal Stafford aside and tell him I was seeing someone else. That I was head over heels in love with someone else. Someone who had just fucked another woman in front of me this morning and then made love to me through the back door this afternoon. Principal Stafford would probably be scandalized and head out the door.

Instead of going there, I held my tongue. It was one family dinner. There would be plenty of other things to set him heading for the door soon enough. If my father didn’t overwhelm him, or if my sister’s kids didn’t scare him off, or if he didn’t catch my mother’s cold front, and he still wanted to see me after all of that? Well, then I’d know there was something wrong with him, and I’d be the one running out the door.

Besides, he was right. It smelled delicious in the kitchen. My mother had outdone herself. She sat a plate of roast chicken and green beans in front of me. I noted that on everyone else’s plate there were potatoes. I opened my mouth to protest, but decided to save myself the argument.

I wasn’t hungry. I’d eaten plenty at lunch with Christopher this afternoon. He’d pushed a second helping on my plate, watching me with hunger in his eyes as I took in every morsel offered.
Never once had he looked at my body with disdain as I caught my mother doing out the side of her eye. Never once did he signal me to suck it in and sit up straight. I dressed in my cutest, most flattering outfits every time I went to see him. If anything, Christopher preferred me flat on my back with all of my flesh rolling and bouncing around. I’d never felt more beautiful and comfortable in my own skin than I had these past weeks with him.

Over dinner, it was apparent that John Stafford would have been the exact type of guy I would have dated. He ticked every check mark; educated, kind, loved kids, and he even went to church on Sundays.

“Did you know there’s a contemporary religious art showcase that opens this weekend?” he said. “Would you like to go with me, Mary Katherine?”

I did want to go. And I wouldn’t mind going with him. I doubted Christopher would be interested in religious art. Aside from the rosary tattoo on that random woman’s breast, we’d never broached the topic of art. Aside from my rosary, we’d never again broached the topic of religion.
John was excited to see the works of a Japanese artist who infused abstract expressionism with the traditional art of Nihonga. I didn’t know what that meant but I wanted to see it. My excitement grew with the way his eyes lit up and his hands waved around excitedly. I sat as captivated as my niece and nephews. I nearly whined when my mother cleared the dishes away signaling the end of dinner.

John walked me out to my car. As he opened my car door, he asked me again to accompany him to the exhibit.

I was in an open relationship. There was no reason I couldn’t go with him. It wasn’t like I was going to sleep with this guy.

I declined the invitation.

With a sad smile and no explanation, I got in my car and pulled away from my parents’ house. The truth was,
I
wasn’t in an open relationship.
I
was a one-man kind of woman.

I couldn’t see myself being with anyone other than Christopher. I couldn’t imagine that another man could make me feel the way he did. I was all in. And I wanted him to be all in too.

I pulled up to my complex. Through the window, I saw Christopher sitting on the hood of his car. He grinned when I pulled into my spot. As I cut the engine, he came to my door to hand me out.

“Where’ve you been?” He pulled me into his arms, running his hands up and down my back as he pressed me into him. “I thought you’d be writing.”

There was a part of me that wanted to sass him. To tell him I had a life outside of my writing desk. Outside of his bed. That I had other men interested in me. But a wave of guilt swept over me.

It was irrational that wave. I’d watched him in an orgy with another woman. All I’d done was have a conversation with another man. And that man hadn’t even touched me.

“I missed you,” Christopher breathed into my hair.

I melted. Of course I melted. This man simply needed to look at me and I was reduced to a puddle. “You saw me this afternoon.”

“Am I turning into one of those clingy boyfriends?” He pulled away looking sheepish. “I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t get my fill of you today.”

“You filled me up pretty nicely.”

“Yeah, I did” he smirked. “I just want to hold you now. I’ve had a long day, and I just want my girl in my arms.”

I stopped my brain from wondering if work or pleasure had caused his day to be long. It didn’t matter. He was here now. There had only been one night that we’d spent apart since I’d first slept in his bed. He had traveled for a race a few nights ago. He’d called me that night after the dust had settled. Then he arrived on my doorstep the first thing the next morning.

“Is that okay, MK? You know you can tell me to beat it if I’m crowding you.”

“It’s not too much. It’s perfect.”

He smiled, running his hands through my hair and loosening the barrette that held my ponytail. “By the way, my mother wants you to come over to meet everyone.”

“You want me to meet your family?”

“Of course, I do. Unless that’s too much, too soon? I’m still not sure how all this commitment stuff works.”

“No, it’s not too much. It’s…” I couldn’t speak past the fluttering of my heart, which choked my throat.

“Hey, princess?”

“Yeah, Christopher?”

“Are you sure you’re sore? I could kiss it better.”

Chapter Twenty-One

I don’t know what I expected walking into Christopher’s parents’ house. Nude art on the wall? Grown folks fornicating in the corners? A sex swing?

The neighborhood we pulled into could have been my parents’ neighborhood. It was early afternoon and we were stopping by for lunch. Inside the house, there was a riot of colors. Completely unlike my parents’ museum-style house that was shades of beige.

Christopher’s mother came up and hugged me the moment I stepped over the threshold. I couldn’t remember the last time my own mother hugged me.

“You look lovely, Mary Katherine.”

“Thank you, Mrs-”

She shook her head. A tinkle of laughter spilled from her mouth. It was like Christopher’s laugh. “You did tell her this was a house of heathens. It’s just Holly, dear. Come meet the rest of the family.”

The introductions made my head spin. There was Holly’s life partner, Christopher’s father, whose name was Terry. There was Holly’s boyfriend and his wife. There was also Terry’s lover, who was a man, and his wife, who happened to be Holly’s best friend. I could not keep all the names or connections straight.

“Confused?” Christopher whispered into my ear.

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Freaked out?”

I opened my mouth to deny it, but nothing came forth.

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to my temple.

We moved deeper into the house where a man rolled on the floor with children. Christopher released my waist and dove into the fray. The kids chanted “Uncle Christopher” and attacked.

“Hi, you must be Mary Katherine.” I looked at the blonde woman who approached me. “I’m Susan, Chris’s sister.”

I offered my hand; Susan came in for a hug.

“That’s my husband, Scott,” she pointed to the man on the floor in the fray of children. “And those are all my rug rats.” She ticked each child off by name. There were four of them. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to meet you.”

“We’ve only been dating a couple of weeks,” I said.

“Yes, but I’ve been waiting for years for my baby brother to find love. Trust me, if he brought you here, to show you all our family’s crazy, his feelings run deep.”

I looked down at Christopher. It was the first time I’d seen him with children, outside of my imagination. I had never seen my sister’s husband play with his children. I’d never experienced my own father at play. I’d always gone to my grandparents’ for any affection. Christopher looked like he was in heaven on the floor with the kids. My ovaries pulsed.

As the men and children played, Susan took the opportunity to tell me every embarrassing story she could remember about Christopher. I listened and watched Christopher give piggyback rides.

On the walls were a mountain pictures; Holly, Terry, and three blond-headed children at various stages of life, in different locales, with a host of people surrounding them. Christopher had told me that his brother was traveling overseas.

“You all have a large family,” I said.

“My mother doesn’t let anyone go. It’s like the mafia; once you’re in you can’t get out. Every boyfriend, girlfriend, lover, playmate is still apart of our lives, even if they aren’t intimate with my parents any longer. Holly is very big on family.”

“You call your mother by her name?”

“Most of the time. She doesn’t like labels. She’s an anarchist. But don’t call her that. I was anarchical growing up. I believed that if you labeled one person, it devalued another. Then I met Scott and I haven’t felt the need for anyone else.”

“You two are legally married?”

Susan nodded.

“What did you say in your wedding vows?” I asked.

“We pledged our lives to each other, promised to face challenges and to nurture each other as we continued to grow. We promised to be loving and faithful partners. We’ve kept every one of those promises.”

Scott looked up at her then. He winked and blew her a kiss.

“I still consider myself poly,” Susan said. “He knows I would never cheat on him. I’d come to him if I developed feelings for another soul.”

Holly came in to announce that lunch was ready. Dining was a communal affair. Holly and Terry served Ethiopian food with spongy bread, lentils and veggies that everyone ate with their hands.

Everyone told stories about Christopher to embarrass him -and they all knew stories. His father told stories about him in little league. His mother’s boyfriend told stories about taking Christopher and his older brother fishing. Even his mother’s lover had stories to tell.

Through all the laughter and joviality, I forgot who was attached to whom. As dishes cleared, they accepted me in, treating me as a part of the family. I even got charged with a chore after the meal.

I stood next to Holly drying off the dishes she pulled from the sudsy sink. “Can I ask you something?” I said.

“How do I make all of this work?” she guessed.

I smiled at her perceptiveness. “My mother and sister have trouble managing just one relationship. I’ve never even had a boyfriend before. With Christopher, I feel like I’m being asked to fly before I’ve learned to walk. I don’t want to fall on my face.”

“You definitely are a writer, aren’t you,” Holly said with a grin so like her son’s. “I don’t believe one person can be everything to you. I think it’s a lot of responsibility and pressure to expect of a single person. I need different things in my life, so I collect different people. I wanted children, and I chose Terry to partner with in that endeavor. I knew we’d make good co-parents and life-partners. I love to travel, but Terry’s a homebody. So, my boyfriend Pat, his wife, and I all travel together. Terry’s bisexual. He fell in love with Corey when we were in college. But Corey wanted to stay in the closet. He married Lily and suppressed his feelings until a few years ago when he came out. Terry and I supported them both through it and the men fell in love all over again.”

Up until now I’d only worried about Christopher with other girls. Now I had to wonder if he was into guys too?

“It’s a lot of work managing all these relationships,” Holly said. “But it’s enriched my life.”

“I get jealous,” I admitted, running the dishtowel over the tines of a fork. “I see him with other women and I get jealous.”

Holly nodded. “Jealousy is a natural human trait. What you need to ask yourself is where is the jealousy stemming from?”

“I feel that if he’s allowed to have these other choices, he’ll find someone he likes better.” I put the last of the dishes on the drying rack.

“You think that limiting his choices will keep him by your side?”

“That sounds awful when you put it like that.”

Holly smiled. “Those are your feelings, and they’re valid. But it’s not likely how Christopher feels. He hasn’t stopped talking about you since you came into the shop. He’s never talked with me about any of his relationships. I think you just might be special to him.” She said the last phrase in a singsong voice.

Something settled in my soul, but there was still an itch in my heart. “I feel like I’ll never be enough for him.”

Holly leaned her hip against the counter and tilted her head, considering. “I think love changes over time, but it’s always there. My love for Christopher’s father has done that; it’s changed over the years we’ve been together. He’s had partners that were different from me, and I had feelings of inadequacy. But those were my feelings. It didn’t mean he loved me any less, or that he was prepared to leave me for another. We brought those people into our lives. I’ve made a life commitment to Terry, and he’s made one to me. Even when we’re pissed the hell off at each other, we would never go back on that promise we made to be there for each other no matter what.”

BOOK: Dangerous Curves Ahead (Watchers Crew)
2.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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