Authors: Adrienne Thompson
“Thanks. So feel free to look around. I’ma go and get started on dinner.”
“Wait, are you cooking for us?” I asked.
“I sure am,” he replied and then turned and glided off to the kitchen.
I sat there for a moment, took in my surroundings, and noticed some photos lining a bookshelf across the room. I walked over to get a closer look and smiled at the row of pictures that gave me a glimpse into Chris’s past. Some were copies of the ones at his parents’ home, others I’d never seen before—one of which was a really nice photo of Chris in his graduation cap and gown, surrounded by his sisters. I picked it up to get a closer look.
“Graduation day at Grambling,” he said. I hadn’t noticed him standing behind me.
He pointed to the faces. “That’s Jayne. I know you haven’t met her yet, and of course you know Ava and Lana.”
I nodded. “Ava, Lana, and Jayne. Beautiful names for beautiful women.”
“Yeah, my mom’s an old movie fanatic, in case you haven’t figured that out. She once told me that if I hadn’t already been named Christopher, she would’ve named me Humphrey.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Like Humphrey Bogart? Well, thank God she didn’t get a chance to.”
He nodded. “Amen.”
I continued to peruse the pictures and came to one in particular that caught my eye. It was of a little boy who was obviously of mixed race. He had fair, brown skin and curly, black hair. His striking blue eyes told me that he was Chris’s son, Russell.
I picked the picture up for a closer look. “Is this—”
“Yeah, that’s Russ,” he said, softly.
“He’s a beautiful child. He has your eyes.”
He nodded, his eyes full of sadness. “Yeah, he does. Thank you.”
“I didn’t notice any photos of him at your parents’ house.”
He shook his head. “No, Mama took them down. It was just too painful for her to see him all the time. She worries about him a lot. He was her first grandchild.”
“You’ll get him back, Chris. I’m sure of it.”
“Thanks, Marli.”
I moved on to a photo of a white couple. The man looked to be older than the woman. He was tall with dark hair and eyes. The woman was stunningly beautiful with long blond hair and blue eyes.
“These are your real parents?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yeah, Ted and Pamela Russell.”
“You look just like your mother.”
“Yeah, same eyes, huh?” He stared at the picture for a moment and then said, “So dinner should be ready in about forty-five minutes. Wanna have a seat with me?”
“You’re cooking from in here?”
“It’s on a timer.” He hesitated and then added, “I’m really sorry about losing my cool earlier.”
“It’s okay. I just didn’t want you to get in any trouble. That guy definitely was not worth it.”
“I know.”
I smiled slyly. “For a preacher’s kid, you got a little street in you, huh?”
He shrugged and dropped his eyes.
“You called me your woman, too.”
He looked up at me and raised his eyebrows. “You liked that, huh?”
“Cool Chris” was back.
I nodded and took a seat on the sofa. No sooner than he sat down beside me, Chris pulled me into his arms and laid one heck of a kiss on me. I leaned into him and returned the kiss, rubbing my hands through his hair. It felt different, I can’t lie. The texture of his skin, his hair, his lips; it was all different, but it was good,
very
good.
We kissed and held each other for a long time. It felt good to be able to share that kind of intimacy again. I could feel his affection and passion for me, but it felt innocent, almost pure. It reminded me of the joy and excitement I felt in my younger days, when I liked a boy and knew that he liked me. Back then, there was this sense of excitement I felt just from being around that person or holding his hand. Just a simple kiss was totally thrilling to me. That’s what I felt with Chris—the innocence and excitement of a first love.
Chris pulled me closer to him as he continued the kiss, his hands navigating a trail from my back to my waist to my face, as if he wasn’t sure which part of me he wanted to touch. I felt the same way—overwhelmed by the chemistry and electricity flowing between us. I didn’t want to stop, and I could tell that the feeling was mutual. Had the oven timer not gone off, there’s no telling where the night would have led us, despite Chris’s honorable intentions.
~*~
Dinner was actually pretty good. Now, he couldn’t cook like his mama, but his T-bone steaks, baked potatoes, and spring mix salad weren’t half bad. We laughed and talked throughout dinner and afterward, we settled down on his sofa with a couple of sodas and listened to some old-school R&B records. I leaned back on the sofa and sipped my drink as Chris walked over to the stereo to change the record.
“You know, I’ve always heard that musicians are usually broke, but you’ve done really well,” I said, looking around at the room.
“Uh, yeah. I just manage my money really well,” he said, his back to me.
“Well, you need to teach me a thing or two about money management, then.”
He turned and smiled at me. “Or three or four, huh?”
“Unh-uh, let’s not forget, I’m older and wiser than you. Now when it comes to certain things, I think I have a hand up on you.”
He grinned. “That’s right, you
are
older than me. That’s just how I like my women, old and thick and mean.”
I laughed. “Now look, I haven’t been mean to you in days. Cut me some slack here.”
“Well, when you
were
mean to me, you were mean as
hell
. I ain’t never had to work so hard to get a woman before.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Oh, so you think you’ve got me?”
He walked over to me, reached for my hand, and pulled me to my feet. “I
know
I got you. Come on and dance with me.”
“Your Love Is King” by Sade began to play. “Well, since this is my favorite song, I guess I will.”
“Favorite song, huh? I’ll have to remember that,” he said as he pulled me into his arms.
I leaned against his chest as he wrapped his long arms around me.
“You’re a perfect fit,” he whispered.
As we slowly rocked to the music, I could feel my entire body begin to relax against his. I closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of his cologne. He released me long enough to lean over and plant a soft kiss on my lips. I looked up at him and smiled.
“How tall are you?” I asked.
“Six-one. How
short
are you?”
I laughed. “Five-four.”
“Perfect,” he said and then pulled me back to him. He began to softly sing along with the song.
“Why don’t you ever sing lead with the band?”
He looked down at me. “Man, you’re full of questions tonight, huh?”
I shrugged. “Just curious.”
“I really don’t know. I guess I’d just rather play my horn. I don’t really like all of the attention on me.”
I smiled. “I find that hard to believe, Cool Chris.”
“I’m serious. I’ve always kinda stood out. These days, I like fading into the background with my horn.”
I nodded. “You know, Chris, I really envy you.”
“Envy me? Why?”
I rested my head on his chest again. “Because you live your life exactly the way you want to. You had dreams of being a musician, and you made them come true. I just gave up on my dreams.”
He looked down at me and frowned. “I live this way because it’s the only way I know how to live. If you let go of your dreams, you stop really living. Living without fighting for your dreams is not living at all—that’s just existing.”
I sighed. “That’s what I’ve been doing for so many years.
Existing
.”
Chris stopped dancing and cupped my face with his hands. “What do you dream about, baby? What do you want to do with your life?”
“If I tell you, you’ll think it’s stupid.”
“No, I won’t. No dream is ever stupid.”
“Well, the only thing I’ve ever dreamed of doing is falling in love—
real love
—and having a family. I wanted to be a stay at home mom and bake cookies and fix huge meals for my family. I know it sounds archaic, but I guess I wanted that because I never had it growing up. My parents always emphasized education and having a big career, but I never cared about that. The things I’ve always wanted and never had are love and family.”
“That’s not stupid, baby. That’s beautiful.”
“It
would
be beautiful if it was a dream that could actually come true.”
“What makes you think it can’t?”
I shrugged again. “I don’t know. I guess I feel like it’s too late. I’m not getting any younger.”
“So you think there’s an age limit on love and happiness?”
“Not necessarily. I just think it’s too late for
me
. I’ve got a grown daughter now, too late to be trying to start another family. It’s too late for my happily ever after. I just don’t believe it’ll happen for me.”
“Naw, baby. It’s only too late if you decide it is. I think as long as you are living and breathing, anything is possible.
Anything,
if you open your heart and mind to it—including a happily ever after. You have no idea what God’s got in store for you.” And with that, he leaned in and let his lips barely brush mine.
We danced and danced until we were both too tired to move, and then we collapsed onto the couch.
I woke up the next morning on the couch with Chris’s arms around me. I looked up at him and smiled. “Good morning,” I said softly.
He peered down at me and kissed the tip of my nose. “Good morning, beautiful. You wanna watch the sunrise with me?”