Saving All My Lovin' (4 page)

W
il Hutchinson pulled himself up the steps to his third floor walk-up apartment favoring his left hip. It had been a long day. His mail delivery route took him up and down the rolling hills of upper Manhattan. He sure wasn’t as young and spry as he used to be, he thought ruefully to himself. He’d been a mail carrier for almost thirty years and had watched Harlem change from an oasis for black culture replete with supper clubs, soul-food restaurants, men who sported real hats and women who wore gloves on Sundays—to high-end department stores, super food chains instead of the mom and pop
corner store and a steady influx of wealthy white yuppies who saw gold in the historic brownstones.

That was then, he mused, turning his key in the lock. Time changes everything, especially the body. He passed his reflection in the hallway mirror and immediately sucked in his stomach and straightened his back.

He wasn’t a bad looking man. Most women thought him to be handsome. But he’d put on the pounds and, years without a real woman to please, he’d let himself go. His days consisted of work and his evenings of keeping an eye on his teenaged son, Chauncey. Wil had big plans for his son. Next year he would be in college. He’d saved most of his life to ensure that he’d had the funds available to pay for Chauncey’s education. But he’d also taught his son about the value of hard work and that making one’s way in the world was how he would get to be a real man.

Wil set down his backpack on the kitchen table and looked up at the clock above the fridge. His son should be walking through the door any minute from his job at the Schomburg. He’d been working at the historic library since he was old enough to get working papers. The pay wasn’t great but it helped and Wil made sure that Chauncey saved more than he spent.

He was just about to get an iced cold beer when he heard the front door open.

“Dad, you home?” Chauncey yelled out.

Wil shook his head and laughed. They’d been roommates for the past ten years since his mother walked out on them and never a day passed that Chauncey didn’t yell the same question. It was almost as if he was afraid that one day he’d come home and his dad would be gone, too.

“In here, son.”

Chauncey came bounding in the kitchen, all six-foot-two-inches of him. Every time Wil looked at his son he was amazed that he’d been part of creating such a good looking boy. Chauncey had never been plagued with adolescent acne. His skin was still smooth and clear with red undertones highlighting his bronze complexion, a throwback to his American Indian ancestry. But it was his eyes that captured the attention of everyone who met him, they were a light brown, the color of sweet tea and when the mood hit them, they turned a deep green.

“How was your day?” Wil asked, taking the beer and twisting of the top. He’d taken two long swallows before Chauncey could respond.

“Pretty cool.” He plopped down in a wooden chair at the decades old butcher-block table. “Hey, Dad…”

“Hmm?” Wil closed the fridge and opened the
freezer, searching for something to get started for dinner.

“You know how you’ve been saying as soon as you get some time you were going to go to the gym?”

“Yeah,” he replied absently, pushing aside frozen packages of vegetables.

“Well, I signed you up.”

Wil stopped his search and turned, a frown tightening his features. “Say what?”

Chauncey grinned. “I signed you up.”

“Signed me up where, boy?”

He pulled a brochure from his back pocket and handed it to his father.

“Pause for Men? What the hell is that?”

Chauncey chuckled. “It’s a day spa, just for men. They have exercise, massage, steam room, the works. And they serve health food,” he added.

“This must cost a fortune. We can’t afford something like this. I can go to the Y.”

“Dad, your year membership is all paid for.”

“What?” His eyes widened.

“I took care of it.” Chauncey stood. “Out of money I’ve been saving.”

“That’s for school. We discussed that.”

“I’ll be fine. I wanted to do this for you. You’ve been taking care of me. Let me do something for you.”

“Chauncey…”

“It’s a done deal. And you know how you are about wasting money. So you know you’re going to have to go.”

Wil heaved a breath. “Maybe you can still get your money back.”

“I don’t want to. As a matter of fact, I thought I’d walk with you over there…tonight.”

“Tonight!”

Chauncey laughed. “Yeah, tonight. So why don’t you get showered, put on something comfortable and we can head out in about an hour. You always told me why put off until tomorrow what you can do today.”

“Don’t you have homework?”

“No excuses.”

“What about dinner?”

“You can eat there and I’ll fix myself something.”

Wil slowly saw himself losing the battle. Chauncey could be just about as difficult and stubborn as him. He glanced down at the brochure again. He opened it and looked at the high-gloss pictures of the interior. What the hell? He couldn’t disappoint his son and he certainly wasn’t going to waste any money. Maybe it would all work out. Might not be so bad, he thought, walking slowly
to his bedroom as he read the material. Might not be so bad at all.

Barbara applied massage oil to the back of her latest client. He sighed in pleasure as her strong fingers kneaded the tight muscles of his back.

“That feels wonderful,” he moaned.

Barbara smiled. “You have a lot of knots in your back. Comes from tension. You should be sure to get a massage at least once per week until I can get them all out.”

“If it feels anything like this, you won’t have a problem out of me.” He chuckled.

“Okay, all done.” She turned her back as he sat up.

“Thanks.”

She made some notes in his file then turned to face him. “You can take this to the front desk on your way out and someone will put it in the computer. You can schedule your next session at the same time.” She smiled and handed him the card.

“Sure thing, thanks again.” He walked out.

Barbara drew in a long breath. She was exhausted. She looked up on the schedule she had posted on the wall. She had a half-hour break before her next client. Relieved, she sat down. What she really wanted to do was stretch out on the massage table and take a quick power nap.
Since her conversation with Michael she hadn’t really slept well. She yawned.

If only Michael could see that what she did here at the spa had no sexual undertones at all. She was strictly professional and her posture commanded that she be treated that way from her clients.

His whole attitude was troubling. But what was even more disturbing was his notion that she was going to give up everything and go off to la la land to live happily ever after with nothing to do all day besides shop and be his wife.

She frowned. There was so much more to her than that. She’d worked all her life and was proud of her accomplishments. With her experience and certifications she could work anywhere in the country. Some women may dream of the day when they did nothing more than watch the soaps and go to luncheons. But she wasn’t one of them.

A soft knock on the door interrupted her musings.

“Yes?”

Elizabeth poked her head in. “All clear?”

“Sure. Come on in.”

“I know this is your break time, but we have a new client who came in. I’ve given him the grand tour but I was hoping you could tell him about what you do.”

Barbara stretched. “Okay, I’ll be right out.”

“Thanks. I’ll let him know.”

There goes my break, she thought, taking off her smock and hanging it on the back of the door. She hand brushed her hair into her ponytail and went out to meet their new client.

When Barbara approached the front desk, she stopped short and so did her heart. It couldn’t be, she thought. She blinked several times thinking that maybe she was seeing things. But when her vision cleared, it wasn’t an illusion.
Still unmistakable
.

She swallowed over the sudden dryness in her throat and nearly choked. Before anyone spotted her she darted down the hall to the staff kitchen and took a bottle of water from the fridge. After several gulps her head cleared. Steeling herself, she walked out of the kitchen to face her past.

S
tephanie left the spa earlier than usual. She felt bad leaving them short handed, but she had no choice. St. Ann’s, the rehabilitation center that housed her twin sister Samantha, had called saying that Sam was having a really bad day and perhaps it would help if she saw her.

She’d been negligent she knew. With the opening of the spa and all the work leading up to it, she hadn’t been to see her sister as regularly as she generally did. And now that Tony was in her life, it was one more thing to take her mind away from her obligation to her sister.

She pulled up in front of the center and drove into the lot. Moments later she was walking through the door. It was dinnertime and the hallways were busy with the nurses and the aides delivering meals to those who were unable to come to the community cafeteria and ambulatory patients who were slowly making their way to dinner.

Stephanie stopped at the front desk. “Hi, I got here as quickly as I could,” she said to the nurse.

“Oh, Ms. Moore.” The nurse smiled at Stephanie. “Your sister will be so glad to see you.”

“The caller said she was having a bad day,” Stephanie asked more than stated.

“I’m sure her doctor can fill you in on all the details. He’s actually in with her now.”

“Thanks.” Stephanie adjusted her purse on her shoulder and walked down the corridor toward her sister’s room. When she reached the door she could hear the doctor’s voice talking gently to Samantha.

For a moment, Stephanie squeezed her eyes shut and drew in a breath of strength. She was almost afraid to go in but knew that she must.

She turned the knob on the door and walked in.

The doctor turned upon her approach. Slowly he stood up, keeping a comforting hand on Samantha’s shoulder. Stephanie could see that she’d been crying. Her heart ached.

She came fully into the room, putting her purse on the bed as she approached Sam. She knelt down in front of her and stroked her cheek.

“Sweetie, it’s me Stephanie.”

Samantha’s bottom lip trembled as if she were going to cry again.

“It’s okay. I’m here now,” she said softly then looked up at Dr. Nelson.

He gave a subtle toss of his head toward the door.

Slowly Stephanie rose. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to talk to Dr. Nelson for a minute.”

They stepped outside and closed the door.

“What’s going on? What happened?”

Dr. Nelson folded his hands in front of him. “She had a major episode today. She’s been crying almost constantly and that’s not like Sam. She refuses to eat and…she’s been trying to talk.”

“Talk!” Stephanie’s mind raced. Sam hadn’t uttered a word in nearly two decades. Not since the night of the accident. She barely seemed to pay attention to the world around her except for brief flashes. “Are you sure? What did she say?”

“We’re pretty sure she called your name. At least she tried to. And she became very agitated.”

Stephanie’s hand flew to her chest. “My God. I…”

“We were just as surprised. Tomorrow we
want to run some tests, a CAT and a PET scan to reevaluate brain function. Something is obviously going on.”

“But all the doctors said she’d never get better.”

“I’m not saying that she will either. But something is happening. We need to know what it is.”

Stephanie slowly nodded her head, trying to take it all in. “And you’ll let me know?”

“Of course.”

“So…what if there is new activity, then what?”

“If, and I say
if,
that is the case then we would put her on a new rehab regime that would include speech therapy, something she’s showed no need of since she’s been here.”

She didn’t want to hope. She’d given up hoping a long time ago.

“There is one thing, however.”

Stephanie returned her focus on the doctor. “What’s that?”

“If in fact there is some indication that her speech is returning, she’s going to need a lot of work.”

“Which means more money,” she translated.

“I’m afraid so. At the present time your monthly bill only takes care of room and board and basic services. If we begin to incorporate speech therapy into her daily routine…” He let the rest hang in the air.

“How much are we talking about?”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. It may or may not be necessary but I wanted you to be aware of the possibility.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll let you get to your visit. If you have any questions before you leave have the nurse page me.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

He nodded and walked away.

Stephanie stood on the outside of Samantha’s door.
More money?
Since she’d left her job at the PR firm, she’d been using her savings to cover the cost of Samantha’s care. Her private business had yet to take off fully and it was too soon for the spa to show any profits. She had no clue how she was going to be able to pull any more green rabbits out of the hat.

Sighing, she put on her best face and went in to be with her sister.

He sensed her the way you can feel an impending rain shower after a long drought; from the ache that settles deep in your bones to the parched dryness in the back of your throat. You long for the rain to replenish you, wash away the misery of living without it. But at the same time are aware that it has the power to drown you.

Slowly he turned around. For an instant time moved backward. They were young and in love with the whole world ahead of them. Barbara and Wil against the world. That’s what they’d said, but it wasn’t what they’d meant. At least that’s not how it turned out.

Recognition, memories danced in the reflection of their eyes. Then like the final curtain, their eyes shuttered the past and it was gone.

Barbara gripped the water bottle in one hand, her mouth in a tight line, and forced one foot in front of the other.

“There you are,” Elizabeth chirped. She extended her hand toward Wil and his son then Barbara, unfazed by the tension that bounced between them like a rapidly fired tennis ball. “This is Mr. Hutchinson and his son, Chauncey.”

His son. My God
. Her knees felt weak.

“This is Barbara Allen, our resident specialist.” She smiled at Barbara but it faded like bleach splashed on color. She turned halfway to Barbara. “Are you all right?” she asked under her breath.

“Yes. Fine. You can go cover the front.” She forced a smile.

Elizabeth’s gaze darted back and forth between the two, ready to jump in and defend her friend if need be, before she finally walked away.

“Well,” Barbara said on a breath, “we can’t have our new clients standing around. I’ll take you over to the sauna room and then the massage rooms.”

“Sounds great.”

It was the first time she’d heard the low rumble of his voice in almost thirty years and it still had the power to send shivers running through her belly.

Lawd don’t let me faint and make a fool of myself.

“Would your son like to come as well?” she asked, focusing on the top button of Wil’s shirt instead of his eyes.

“Naw, I’m cool. You go ahead, Dad. I’m gonna hang out at the café.”

“I’ll meet you there when I’m done.” He turned his attention back to Barbara. “Lead the way.”

Barbara bit down on her bottom lip then headed toward the basement. She could feel the heat of his body behind her.

“We, uh, had to put the sauna down here because of all the water and the heat factor,” she rambled. “But it doesn’t look anything like a basement.” She laughed nervously.

“How long are we going to pretend that we don’t know each other?”

The question grabbed her by the arm and tugged, but she didn’t slow her step.

“I thought maybe that’s the way you wanted it.” She kept walking passed the sauna stalls.

Steam seeped from beneath the doors giving the illusion that they were walking on clouds or in some kind of MTV video, making the entire encounter even more surreal.

“We have eight enclosed saunas and a steam room,” she said in a practiced tour guide voice.

“Barbara.” This time it was Wil’s hand that grabbed her. “Wait. Look at me.” She stood still. “Please.”

With great reluctance she turned around. Her eyes started at his feet, timidly making their way up the length of his body—taking him all in—remembering. They rose until they rested on his face—the one she vowed to forget but hadn’t.

“You’re still as pretty as I remember.” His dark eyes traveled leisurely across her face, down the slope of her neck.

Barbara was never happier than at that moment, pleased with the fact that she could actually stand there and not have to hold her breath and her stomach in until he looked away.

“So you have a son,” she said in a voice that sounded as if it came from far away.

“Yes.”

“Good looking young man.”

“I’d tell him but he’s already vain.”

He smiled and she swore she heard a symphony. “He got it honest,” she admitted.

Wil had barely changed in the years since way back when, she observed. He still had that incredible cocoa-brown skin, broad shoulders that could always carry the weight of her world. Eyes so soft and brown you wanted them all over you. She remembered those lips, the way they used to nibble on her ear or plant hot kisses on her young neck. He’d gained some weight. They all had. There were dashes of gray in his close cut hair and mustache, but it only made him seem more virile, more…man.

A hot shot of desire exploded right between her legs sending a tremor along the inside of her thighs.
Ohmygoodness.

“How long have you been working here?” he asked, snapping her out of her trance.

She blinked. “Uh, I’m one of the co-owners, actually.”

“Really.”

Genuine surprise lit his eyes and admiration tugged up the corners of his mouth.

He slid his hands into the pocket of his sweat-pants. She thought about her diamond, thankful that
she’d taken it off to work. A little stab of guilt wiggled under her skin.
Glad she’d taken it off? Why?

“How many co-owners are there?”

“Huh?”

He repeated the question.

“Oh, sorry. There are four of us. You met Ellie and then there’s Ann Marie and Stephanie.”

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with merriment. “Four women open a spa for men. That’s rich.” He chuckled harder.

Barbara put her hand on her hip and tilted her head to the side. “I really don’t see what’s so funny.”

“Not that it’s funny, ha ha funny. But funny in the brilliant sense. Pure genius.” He stopped chuckling and looked dead at her. “Who knows what men want more than a woman?”

Her breath stopped somewhere in her chest and refused to move. She started to feel lightheaded and began coughing—choking was more like it.

Alarmed, Wil sprung into action and began patting her back. “Are you all right? Can I get you something?”

She bent over, still coughing, but loving the feel of those big hands on her back, the sound of his voice in her ear. She unscrewed the cap on her bottle of water and took a long swallow.

By degrees her coughing subsided and she
slowly stood up. “Sorry about that,” she choked out. “Guess something went down the wrong way.”

“Sure you’re okay?”

She nodded.

“Married?” he asked out of the blue.

She almost lapsed into another coughing attack.

“No. Widowed.”

“Sorry.”

She dared to look at him. “You?”

“Was. It’s been over for years now.”

“So you’re a single parent.”

“That’s what they call us.” He waited a beat.

“Kids?”

“No,” she barely murmured.

He lowered his gaze for an instant, not wanting to witness the sadness he saw in hers. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ve gotten over that part of my life.”

She drew in a breath. “Well, if we don’t finish this tour your son will be wondering what I’ve done with you down here.”

“I could think of a few things, but then there might be witnesses.”

She didn’t even want to begin to imagine what he meant by that. “Uh, down this hallway is the massage room.” She caught his grin before she turned away.

“So you do the massages?” he asked looking around.

“Yes, but we’re in the process of hiring some permanent help. My full-time job is at the hospital in rehabilitation. I’m on vacation this week.”

“Wow. I’m impressed.” He frowned for a moment, trying to put it together in his head. “So you only do this part-time. How long have you been open?”

She grinned. “This is only day two if you can believe it.”

He chuckled. “Now I really am impressed. Like I said, pure genius. You ladies have a goldmine here.”

“We hope so.”

“So what does a hardworking brother need to do to sign up for a well-deserved massage?”

“Uh, it can be taken care of at the front desk.”

His gaze held her in place.

“You look good woman.”

The pulse in her throat went on a rampage. “Thank you,” she managed to say.

She watched his shoulders rise and fall.

“Guess I better get back.”

She nodded numbly.

They stood staring at each other for what felt like a wonderful eternity.

Finally, Wil said, “After you.”

Barbara shook off the cobwebs forming around her brain and led the way back to the front desk.

Elizabeth was working with a client.

“Uh, I can get you all signed up or you can wait for Elizabeth.”

“If you’re not busy…”

She thought about her next client that was due any minute. But she also wanted just a few more minutes alone with Wil.

“Sure. Have a seat.” She walked behind the check-in counter. “I just need to get some information from you…”

As she listened to him respond to her questions, his answers hit her like tiny pellets. Marital Status: Divorced; Next of Kin: Son; D.O.B.: September 20, 1952; Contact #: 212 555-8855; Height: 6’3”, Weight: 225 lbs.; Employer: USPS; Mailing Address: One Hundred and Thirty-Eighth Street; Method of Payment: Fully paid—cash.

She now knew where he lived and worked—right in her own backyard—for years. They didn’t call New York City the melting pot for no reason. You could come here and virtually disappear in the stew. She had his home number. But she wouldn’t use it. It was against policy. The very same policy she’d admonished Ann Marie about.