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Authors: Victor McGlothin

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BOOK: Down On My Knees
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“Yeah, and I also know what they say about one basketballplayer in particular.” Linda tossed a wicked glance across the table at Shelia.
“Uh-huh, he's
real tall
,” Shelia answered, fanning herself with an open hand.
“Okay, since neither of you are willing to hear me out,” Grace huffed, “I'll just pay for lunch and keep my business to myself.”
“Whoa, hold on now!” Shelia objected.
“Yeah, we didn't say all that,” Linda agreed, opening the menu to the more expensive dinner items. “Since you're feeding us, I, for one, am willing to hear you out and hold you up if I have to. Watch this.” Linda placed her hand up to her mouth. “This is me shutting up.” When Shelia nodded that she was prepared to shut up too, Grace settled in to contributewhat she'd gone there to converse about.
“Good, now this has been very difficult for me, and I have no idea how you'll take it, but here goes. Due to some blessed, albeit strange occurrences, I've decided to take my life in another direction.”
Linda eyed her suspiciously. “Grace, you're not about to tell us that you've gone gay or anything, are you?”
“I hope not,” Shelia added, smirking her displeasure. “Because I'm not trying to imagine you looking at my booty.”
“Ain't nobody said nothing about getting with women. Actually I'm not trying to get with men, either,” Grace said explicitly. “I've decided to take a vow of celibacy.”
“Uh-uh, girl, take it back!” That was Shelia, shaking her head frantically. “Grace, I'd rather deal with you looking at my booty. Tell her, Linda!”
“Tell her what? I'm not trying to be all that concerned about your booty either!”
“No, silly. Tell her about that time I tried the celibacy thing, and how it blew up in my face. I can't even talk about it.”
“Oh, yeah, I can tell her that. Grace, girl? You know I love you like a play-cousin, so I'll give it to you straight, no chaser. Shelia tried to go without two years ago, and she ain't never had the Devil chasing her like he did then. Within a few weeks, Shelia was giving the good stuff to every Tom, Dick, and Harry—”
“And James,” Shelia hissed reluctantly.
“Ooh, I forgot about him,” Linda remembered. “Your girl over there was serving it up to the kinds of dudes she don't even like.”
“Broke ones, them's the kind I don't like, but all I wanted to do was screw,” Shelia whispered, almost embarrassed over what she'd done and who she'd done it with. “There was this dude at the car wash who couldn't even afford to detail my car, and there I was, letting him drive it on weekends.”
“Whaaaat?” Grace said, completely astonished.
“That's not the worst of it,” Linda added. “She was out of control, constantly on patrol and blazin', that's why her car kept conveniently overheating in front of firehouses all over town. She almost ran halfway through the Dallas firemen's calendar before she came to her senses.”
“Some of those firemen really know how to handle a hose,” Shelia explained while fanning herself again.
“I wouldn't have any idea, cause you know I'm a virgin,” Linda said, straight faced.
“Yeah, and you're a liar too,” teased Shelia. “You were working the other half of the beefcake calendar, if memory serves me correctly. I distinctly remember bumping into you somewhere in the middle and both of us fighting over June and July, the identical twins from the south side. They tried to play us stupid, had me coming in the front, and sneaking Linda in the back.” Grace was doubled over then. She couldn't fight it off any longer.
“Listen, Grace, I know it sounds funny, but seriously, when the Devil's chasing you, it's almost worth it to let him catch you every now and then,” Shelia reasoned, after thinkingback.
“Sounds like you let him catch you every chance you got,” Grace presumed.
“Sure did,” Linda chuckled. “She even let him tie her up a few times, too.”
“Hold on, y'all.” Shelia answered her cell phone as the waiter approached cautiously. “I want the shrimp and pasta. Uh-uh, not from you,” she said into the telephone. “I'm orderinglunch. Nah, baby, I'm not with no other dude! What? You already know what you can do for me. Yes, at nine o'clock, and don't think o' showing up empty-handed like you did the last time, or my front door won't be the only thing you can't get in. Are we clear on that? Cool.” Shelia perked up as if she hadn't just set some man straight on her demands. “See you at nine then, bye baby.”
“Shelia might be too trifling for words at times, Grace, but she's straight up about this. Going without is hard when you're used to having it on the regular. We're beautiful desert flowers, each of us, craving as much rain as we can get. I know that casual sex is wrong, but if it makes us happy, it can't be all bad. Celibacy ain't nothing but a double-crosswaiting to happen. If you ask me, it's a dirty trick. God made us sexual creatures, then He expects us to act like it's not the best thing since sliced bread. Besides that, it's free.”
Shelia was diametrically opposed to that line of thinking. “Speak for yourself Linda, mine ain't free. I charge whatever the market will bear. Trips, trinkets, and treasures—my good stuff costs. I'll take it up with God when I see Him. Until then, I'm chargin'!” Shelia worked as a part-time comedienneand traveled on the weekends when her nine-to-five wasn't covering her credit-card bills. “I'm an entertainer. I get paid to entertain, don't matter if I'm making a man laugh 'til he can't stop or if he's getting his while I'm on top. Mama's gonna get hers. Baldwin in Baltimore, Carlton in Cali, they all got to pay to get on this ride.”
Grace was at odds with their opinions but she wasn't any less of a sinner than either of them, and she knew it. Fortunately,she had seen the error of her ways and didn't plan on backsliding. She had to choose her words carefully to not offenddear friends, but she had to say something to stand up for righteousness' sake. “Shelia, I hope you take this in the spirit it's given, but I would be remiss if I held my tongue. Sin isn't free, and charging for it only adds insult to injury. I'm not pretending that I haven't done my share of dirt, too, but with God looking over me, I'm on my way to being a better person and a better Christian. My vow of celibacy is the cross I've decided to bear. I appreciate you telling me to be on guard for the pitfalls, I really do. I'm sure that it's going to take everything I have to walk the straight and narrow,but broad is the way that leads to destruction, and many take it. Anyway, I'm ready for love, and I can't wait for the right somebody to love me back.”
Shelia and Linda both turned their faces away, undoubtedlyavoiding the blinding light Grace shone on their shared but faulty philosophy. As luck would have it, Shelia took her enlightenment with a receiving spirit. “I hear you, Grace, and I applaud your decision to seek the kingdom and all that, but love hasn't been anything for me but fool's gold. Even if you do find it, there's no guarantee it'll be real, or that it'll last. I'll take my chances with jewelry and department-store baubles. I can have those appraised, and diamonds are forever.”
“Don't pay her no mind, Grace.” Linda placed her hand over Grace's. “All Shelia's got is a closet full of toasters. I guess the current market isn't bearing nothing but small appliances.”
A labored grin traced Shelia's lips. “Who you telling? If another brotha shows up carrying something with Westinghousestamped on it, I'ma hurt somebody.” Grace slid in closer to her two best friends for a befitting group hug. Neitherof them had to say it, although it was apparent to the waiter as he delivered their entrées.
“Hold still. If a picture is worth a thousand words,” he said, snapping a Polaroid camera, “this one should be worth two thousand.
Friendship Personified.
And, yes, I am pushingfor a bigger tip, so this picture is yours to keep.”
When Grace climbed into her car at the end of lunch, she was happy and uplifted, happy that she'd made it through her discussion with the girls, and uplifted after voicing her convictionswith the people closest to her who knew her darkest secrets. Although neither of her friends was in any position to stand in judgment of the others' transgressions, each of them would be responsible for seeking redemption regardingher own.
11
Heavy on My Mind
D
uring the next two weeks, Grace decided it was more prudent limiting herself to the confines of her home when she wasn't at the office. The promise she'd made in earnest, to God as well as to herself, was harder to keep than she'd initially anticipated. Grace continually reminded herselfthat a woman's natural urges were nothing more than bumps in the road which had to be smoothed out with constantprayer and positive reflection. Still, warring against the ever present tide of a naughty nuisance attacking her throughouteach day presented a new set of problems altogether.
After fighting the temptation to browse through her electronicaddress book, Grace turned off the television in her bedroom. She glanced at the clock radio on her nightstand and shook her head. At eleven-thirty, an hour past what she considered her bedtime, Grace shed her peach-hued loungingclothes and climbed in a hot bath. Even though the heated pool of satiny bubbles was relaxing, exhilarating, and safe as long as she was alone, memories of Tyson's gentle touch began skirting around in her mind. Before she knew it, the soapy loofa traced her thighs, just as Tyson had done with his tongue to get her juices flowing during a flextime tryst at the hotel. Grace tilted her head back until it rested against the neck pad attached to the sunken Jacuzzi bathtub. “The hotel,” she sighed, with her eyes closed. An impish hint of a smile worked its way on her heart-shaped lips when she remembered what kinds of things took place in room number921. It was her idea to select a room nearest to the ice machine with its boisterous churning and constant clattering.The worst room on each floor was always available and due to its undesirable location, which adequately drowned out her passionate cries, Grace felt uninhibited and free to vocalizeher appreciation during Tyson's talent show. “Ooh, I miss that man,” Grace groaned over the steamed heat rising from the water. “Oomph, who am I fooling, I miss the talent,”was her immediate and honest re-evaluation. She wanted to be held, kissed erotically in several places, and satisfied despite it being in direct opposition to her newfoundmorality and stance on saving her body for the Lord, unless another man, the right one, was willing to put his name on it for keeps. After the water's temperature began to cool, Grace lifted a stainless steel lever to drain the tub. Unfortunately,the heat between her legs hadn't cooled a single degree. Peering down at her nipples standing at attention, she frowned, wondering how long she would have to confrontthose irrepressible urges and defer the fevered pitches of lust.
Shaking loose from her dark mood that she'd dodged with the best efforts she could muster, Grace discovered something else waiting in the wings as she massaged her skin with scented lotion. She thought it strange, at first, how her skin seemed to respond eagerly to her own fingertips, the way it had with the men who knew how to go about caressingher. It was as if she'd overlooked the textured ridges, peaks, and valleys that Greg found so inviting. Grace seized the moment to get to know her own body for a change, instead of getting caught up in the strong, hard angles and crests of a man's. Perhaps she could get along without a man, she hoped, if she really put her mind to it. That's exactlywhat she'd have to do, learn to enjoy self when she was alone by herself. Of course, that was easier said than done.
The cool briskness of her sheets sent an uncomfortable chill up the base of Grace's back to the nape of her neck when she eased her naked frame into bed. “Ooh, it's cold. Cold!” she whooped, while wincing and wiggling. Several moments later, she settled in with designs on alleviating the tightly wound anxiety knotted up inside her.
I never thought I'd be taking matters in my own hands,
she thought while attemptingto reconcile her worldly woes. Masturbation, self-gratification,and letting your fingers do the walking were all terms and phrases Grace had attributed to pitiful, lonely women who didn't have a man. She smirked when realizing she had become one of them.
Her considerable lack of practice made that first night out of the blocks an arduous undertaking. Grace labored meticulouslyto re-create the encounters she'd spent in the hands of a skillful lover by lighting candles, gyrating slowly to soft music humming from the quiet radio program, and stroking everything that mattered. So many times she grew ever so close to experiencing the pleasurable sensations that her men had worked diligently to provide. So many times she came to the brink of ecstasy but failed to maneuver her way through the passages of fulfillment.
Refusing to give in before exhausting every possibility, Grace panted excitedly as she continued, touching herself tenderly and then adding more determination when it came to mind that what she truly craved was penetration. The tensionwas overwhelming, but her ineptness left much to be desired, too much, in fact, to properly manipulate the situationaccurately. “Agghh!” she ranted disappointedly, with the pillow held against her. “Okay, I give up!” Grace flung the pillow against the wall. “Men are so much better at this,” she whined. “Why didn't I pay more attention? Finding my G-spot can't be that hard if Greg knows how to do it. I'll even bet that schoolteacher has it figured out.”
Grace glared spitefully at the clock radio before slammingher hand down on the top of it. “Shut up!” she yelled, resenting the annoying late-night deejay's mindless chatter.
He must love hearing his own voice,
she thought, because he went on and on about nothing instead of playing the soothingsounds she'd tuned in to be serenaded by. “Know when to shut up!” With another pillow shoved snugly between her thighs, Grace gave in to her whimpering sobs of frustration. “I want some ... soooo bad. Just one little talent show. Just one,” she muttered until falling asleep, mentally exhausted and emotionally drained.
When morning came, Grace was an utter mess. Her head wasn't the only part of her that ached. After tossing and turningas the sun looked on and laughed she dragged herself out of bed and staggered into the restroom. There was an angeredscowl staring back at her from the vanity mirror. Grace struggled to find enough strength to make it through the day after the night had failed her so miserably. She took a deep breath, yawned, and then scratched her scalp. “My hair hurts,” she pouted to her worrisome reflection. “I'm not going to make it, am I?”
Hardly speaking to André while en route to school, Grace sulked quietly until he mentioned something that had been troubling him. “Ma, did you leave your TV on last night?”
“No, honey,” she answered, her voice barely audible. “Why would you think that?”
He furrowed his brow and then shook his head. “I'ont know. Bad dreams, I guess. But I could have sworn I heard a woman who must have been mad about something because she kept screaming, ‘Shut up! Know when to shut up! ' ” he mocked, imitating a high pitched shrill. “It must've been a nightmare, huh?”
“Uh-huh, must've been,” Grace replied solemnly.
Yours and mine both
, she thought, as André opened the car door. “Dré, tell Mr. Peters that I've been thinking about him. I meant, about calling him ... to reschedule that meeting.” Was that a Freudian slip? Did Grace actually mean to say that she had been thinking about Wallace subconsciously? At that precise moment, she was convinced it was going to be a very long day.
Shuffling slowly down the hall with her head hanging low, Grace bumped into Awkward Bob when she turned into the company's sixth-floor break room. Bob was employed as a marketing analyst, and was in his late twenties, bleached blond, and obviously going through something. He'd been awarded the nickname of Awkward Bob because of his in-the-closet-and-out-againpersonality. When a nosy coworker learned that Bob didn't feel comfortable living as a man or a woman, news quickly circulated that he felt equally awkwardabout having to choose one over the other. In a word, everything about him was just that, awkward. Typically, he arrived at work in traditional male business attire, but on other occurrences he'd play dress-up while exploring his feminine side, which usually consisted of showing off somethingstraight legged and tailored from a hot female designer line. That particular day, he was sporting a knockoff, similar to the gray Donna Karan ensemble, down to the high-waistedslacks that Grace had worn when she wowed the executivesfrom the sports drink company
“Excuse me, Awk ... uh, Bob,” Grace stuttered, nearly calling him by his dreaded nickname. “I should have watched where I was going.”
“It's quite all right, Miss Hilliard. I don't mind rubbing elbows with other corporate divas from time to time,” he answeredin a hushed but giddy tone, appraising Grace's black and cream houndstooth blazer. “By the way, you are working that blazer, gurl.”
Grace was too tired to discuss Bob's keen eye for women's apparel, so she smiled her thanks and walked over to the freshly brewed pot of coffee. She leaned against the counter while searching for the personal mug she'd used for hot tea several months earlier. When it wasn't to be found, Grace settled for a white Styrofoam cup to fill with a morningpick-me-up. As soon as she poured every grain from three separate packs of sugar in and began stirring, her assistantstrode in with a very familiar mug.
“Morning, Miss Hilliard,” Marcia saluted sharply, returningfor her second cup within the hour.
“Marcia,” Grace said, eyeing the mug suspiciously, “uh, that mug you're holding looks a lot like the one I tucked way in the back on the second shelf.”
“Interesting. That's exactly where I found this one a few months back,” Marcia admitted innocently. “Had I known it was yours, I'd have asked first. I've been using it so long, I adopted it.” When Marcia noticed how Grace continued staringat the mug as if she was waiting on it to be returned to its rightful owner, she frowned apologetically. “Oh, I'm sorry, you want it back? I just figured since I've had it for a while, and seeing as how you rarely drink coffee ...” she explained, her comment trailing off at the end to suggest she be allowed to keep it.
“No, it's not that big a deal. I'm just not a fan of Styrofoam.”What Grace wanted to say was,
I may as well get used to giving up the things I previously counted on being there when I wanted them.'
“See you later, Em,” Grace said as she exited the break room, feeling slightly less like CorporateGrace than normal. Marcia suspected that something was bothering her boss because she seldom called her by a single initial, unless she was disenchanted by her associate's actions.
When Grace reached her corner office, there was a large man sitting in the leather chair opposite Grace's desk. Since he was facing the window, she couldn't see his face. “Yes, may I help you?” Grace asked, talking to the back of his head.
“I'm game, but I doubt that you will,” he flirted, in a laid-back,sexy tone.
“Allen?” Grace said as her voice elevated with surprise. “I didn't know we had an appointment to meet today.”
“We didn't, but I woke up at five
A.M.
thinking about you,” Allen replied casually. Grace was startled. Her hand trembled as she lowered the small cup onto her desk. Allen grinned, recognizing a rattled woman when he saw one. “Maybe you've had enough coffee already.”
Grace saw his lips moving, but she hadn't heard a word he said. She was hyper-focused on his silky skin and that emerald green three-thousand dollar custom-made all-weathersuede suit. She had a thing for suede, and he was covered in it. “Huh? I mean, excuse me?” was her best attemptat landing on her feet. Instantly, Shelia's comment about Allen being
real tall
sent Grace into a flabbergasted tailspin.
“I was just saying how much I owe you for hooking up that commercial for me with Hundred Grand,” Allen confirmedafter analyzing how his comment must have come across. “Ahh, now, don't get it twisted. I wouldn't have a problem waking up with you on my mind, or in my bed for that matter, but I got the message the first and the second time we met. Besides, I ain't one for getting my face cracked by the same woman on a regular basis, no matter how fine she is. I've been known to be hardheaded, but that's a stretch even for me. You ever heard of the saying, the bigger the man, the bigger the ego? Well, that fits me down to my size fifteens.” Grace thought she'd swoon right there on her desk.
Did he just say something about having me in his bed with fifteen inches of something lying next to me,
she asked herself.
Oh Lawd, those are some mighty long features.
In a desperate move to save face, Grace tried to snap out of the horny hangover she'd climbed out of the bed with. She shuffled some papers on her desk for no apparent reason, looking away from Allen's steely eyes the entire time. “Okay, let me close this door,” she panted, sensing that the situation had taken an unexpected turn. Grace shot out of her chair, straightened her clothes, and then quickly walked past him. Allen's expensive fragrance tickled her nose as she reached for the doorknob. “Father help me,” she heard herself say beforereturning to her desk. “Um, Allen, I was out of line when I assumed that you were insinuating what I, uh ... assumed,”she backpedaled. “But I can't have my clients showingup here without an appointment. Next time, I would appreciate it if you'd call ahead and get with my assistant. She'll make room on my schedule, I assure you.”
Allen ran his hands down his muscular thighs, settling deeper into the chair, as well as into the conversation. “That's why I decided to slide by today. Grace, let me get right to it. Even though you're a poor man's heartache and a rich man's checkmate, I'm not used to being told when to come and go. Maybe you've heard how making it on time to scheduled appointments ain't ever been my thing. This morning, I woke up with visions of loveliness. Taking nothingfrom you, that vision of mine was the seven-digit sports drink contract waiting on my signature.”
BOOK: Down On My Knees
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