Reye's Gold (39 page)

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Authors: Ruthie Robinson

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #African American

BOOK: Reye's Gold
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“You kept this?” she asked. “I wondered what hap
pened to it.”

“Yep.”

“I meant a lot to you, huh?”

“You have no idea, but yeah, you did. It just took me
a while to see it. I left you, knowing that I cared about
you, but not sure that it was love. Did I learn different.
That was a hard six months for me, here without you. I
hadn’t told you about that time, have I?”

“No,” she said, continuing to stare at the picture.

“I partied and drank mostly, trying to appease the
hurt, but that didn’t work. I bought this apartment
because I couldn’t stand being around anyone, especially
my mom, who I considered responsible for my breakup
with you. I’d distanced myself from my friends and slept
around quite a bit.”


You were unhappy, huh? Good, I wasn’t alone,” she
said and smiled.

“Nope, I was there, too. Anyway, after a loud argu
ment with my mom and a talk with my dad, I began to
realize that I was the sole person responsible for our breakup. But honestly, Reye, I didn’t realize until later
that you’d come to mean so much to me. I’d never been in love before, so I didn’t know until you weren’t there
that it was love that I’d felt.”

He was quiet, holding her, leaning his head on her
shoulder as they continued to look at the picture of them.
“I’d take that picture out when I started to really miss
you. Like some lovesick kid, which I guess I was.”

She turned in his arms to face him, tears in her eyes.
His hand moved to capture her face. “I love you so much it scares me sometimes, but I guess you know all about
that,” he said.

She put the picture down, turned to him again, and kissed him, her tears falling from her eyes.

“I’m glad you came back for me.”

“Me, too.”

* * *

 

“Are you ready?” He was holding her hand in his as
they sat in his car outside of what appeared to be a expen
sive and exclusive restaurant in the city. He and Reye
were to meet his parents here for dinner. He was dressed
in a black suit, white shirt, and blue tie, and she in a
black halter dress that cinched at the waist and flowed
o
utward. She looked both hot and elegant. At least that
was how Stephen had described her as she stepped out of
the bedroom, black sandals gracing her feet. She was more than a little apprehensive about this dinner, but
they needed to put it behind them.

“I’m ready,” she responded, looking over at the face and body she needed as much as she needed air.

“Let’s go,” he said, both of them climbed from his car.
He walked around and took her hand in his, leading her
to the front entry. They were met by the hostess, a wil
lowy blonde who ran her eyes fondly over Stephen and a
little less so over Reye. “How can I help you?”

“We are meeting the Stuart party for dinner,”
Stephen replied.

She looked down the list on the podium that sat
before her to confirm the reservation.

“They’ve arrived. Follow me, please, and I’ll take you
to them.” She gave Stephen another smile. By now, Reye
had gotten used to women and their admiration of him.
She understood its source and was neither annoyed nor
worried by it. She was confident in his desire and love for
her. They trailed along behind her, and Reye took a
moment to admire the restaurant. This was apparently where the prominent and elite were served. Being a part
of his life meant she would have to get used to places like
this. There were beautiful white tablecloths gracing tables
filled with sparkling and shining silver and glass. The
patrons sat, coifed, expensively dressed, and looking
beautiful around tables that were well spaced, allowing
for privacy.

T
hey reached the table where the elder Stuart stood,
having spotted them entering. He was impressed by
Stephen’s choice in Reye. She was beautiful, and he didn’t
think she had any idea of her beauty, which was
refreshing. He was proud of his son and his choices, from
following the law to picking his bride.

They reached the table. “Reye, you remember my dad?”

“Yes, hello, Mr. Stuart,” she said, extending her hand
for him to shake, which he dismissed by pulling her in
for a hug. Stephen’s mother stood beside her husband, a
smile fixed on her face.

“You remember my mother?” Reye stepped back from the senior Stuart and extended her hand to his
mother, which she accepted. “Please call me Claire,” she
said as they all took their seats.

“How was your drive from Austin?” Claire asked. “It was fine.”

“I hope Stephen didn’t drive his usual fast speed with
you in the car,” she continued.

“No, he was fine,” Reye answered, smiling.

The wine steward appeared at the table to take their
wine request. Mr. Stuart made the selections and then
turned his attention to Reye. “So, Stephen tells me that
you’ve purchased a house in Austin to serve as the site of
your new aftercare and summer programs. Is that right?”

“Yes, sir. I’m not sure how much Stephen has told you
about the program.”

“He’s told me that it was not your typical program.”

“That’s right, sir. I’ve spent this summer developing
an idea that came from my mother. I’m the only girl and
t
he baby of five children, and I can always remember her being around, picking us up after school, overseeing our
homework, trotting us around to our sports practices and
other extra-curricular activities. In the summers it was
track.”

“It sounds like what Claire did for Stephen as he grew
up. Isn’t that right, Claire?”

“Yes, it’s what parents do for their children,” she said.

“Purchasing the house was part of my decision to take
the summer program in a different direction, away from
a center setting, to mimic more of a home setting environment for the children. I want them to have something
like the ones Stephen and I grew up in.”

“It sounds like you appreciate your mother.”

“I didn’t always, but working with the kids has helped
me to see her in a different light. I think I understand her
better, and I certainly appreciate her more. I understand
now why she pushed us so hard. Although we still disagree on many things, I know that she only wanted the
best in life for me, and pushing us was her way of
insuring our success. She gave us the kind of care that I’m
trying to give to my students when they are away from
their parents.”

The waiter interrupted her, and they stopped to place
their dinner orders.

“So that’s more than you probably wanted to know
about my program,” she said and smiled, reaching for her
wine glass.

“You know, Reye, it’s hard for children to recognize
why their parents do what they do. It’s innate that we
w
ant more for our children, that we want them to bypass
all of our old hurts and live differently. So I appreciate
that you understand your mother’s desire. It’s what we
mothers do, even if sometimes very badly, very ineptly,”
she concluded, giving Reye a tentative smile.

Was that a peace offering? Reye decided to interpret
it as such, she returned his mother’s smile.

The food arrived and they got down to the business
of eating it, all of them continuing to discuss their respec
tive lives.

She looked over to Stephen, who gave her a smile.
She loved this man, and as scary as that was, she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here with him, braving his
mother and anyone else who had a problem with them.

He found and squeezed her hand under the table.

They finished dinner, followed by dessert and coffee.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening,” Reye said,
giving a hug again to the elder Stuart. They were all
standing in the foyer, preparing to leave. She turned and was taken in to the arms of his mother.

“It was nice meeting you, and I look forward to get
ting to know you better,” Claire said.

“Me, too,” she said.

She and Stephen left the restaurant and walked to his
car, her hand in his. Before she could get in, he tugged
her into his arms, leaning in to give her a soft, thorough kiss. “Not too bad?”

“Nope,” she said against his lips.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime,” she said and kissed him again.

* * *

 

It was Saturday night, the last night in Dallas as
Stephen would deliver Reye back to Austin tomorrow. She
would miss him, had gotten used to seeing him again every
day, touching him, talking to him whenever she wanted. They lay on his couch now, he on his back, minus a shirt,
in just his jeans, while she stretched out on top. It was dark in the room except for the lights of the city through the
windows of his living room. She so got his fondness for
floor-to-ceiling windows now; it was beautiful at night. A
thousand tiny lights twinkled back at her, and it was
relaxing, soothing, and comforting. She dreaded having to
leave tomorrow. Everything had gone perfectly here; seeing
his parents again was more than she hoped it would be.
She just had one remaining question burning a hole in her
head. Where would they live after they married? What
would she have to give up? She’d just gotten to the place
where she felt like she was supposed to be, needed to be. She didn’t want to give that up, but she wasn’t giving up him, either. They’d set a wedding date for August.

“Stephen, I’ve been thinking,” she said, looking into
his face as he laid there with his eyes closed. He was one
fine man. Opening one eye, he looked at her.

“Yeah,” he answered distractedly, his hands that had
been resting quietly at her back started to roam.

“Have you given any thought to where we would live
after we get married?”


Why don’t you tell me what you think we should do and I’ll let you know if I like it,” he said, his hands now
having moved on from her back to trail lower.

“Be serious.”

“I’m very serious,” he said, his lips finding her neck,
placing small kisses there. He turned her over onto her
back before his lips started their downward descent to her
breasts. She continued talking, trying not to focus on his
hands and mouth.

“I know how important your family is to you, but I
was thinking that since I’m just starting the center, you
could find a job at a law firm in Austin, work there for a
while until I get the program off the ground. Then when
we start to have babies, I’d be willing to move back here to live while you work with your family’s firm. Your dad
is still fairly young, right? He wouldn’t need you for a while yet.”

“Lift your hips,” he said, sliding her shorts and
underwear down her legs.

“Stephen, are you even listening to me?” She was
slowly losing her focus, succumbing to the ministrations
of his hands and mouth.

“I hear you loud and clear. Do you want my answer
now?” He was opening the button of his jeans, lowering
the zipper, lifting himself away from her to push them
and his boxers down his legs and off. He grabbed her
around the waist, rolling them off the couch and onto the
floor. He took the brunt of the fall with his body when they landed, before turning her, so he was now back on
top.


Have I told you lately that I love you?” He was wearing that wicked smile of his, her favorite, while
pushing her legs apart, settling between them.

She clamped her legs around his thighs, holding him in place until his eyes found hers. “What?”

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