Chapter 16 Geneva
Geneva
I stepped a few paces away from the entry door of the diner and lit my cigarette. I was trying to keep my smoking breaks down to one cigarette every two hours, but this Saturday had been exceptionally hectic, so this was my second cigarette in an hour and a half.
I looked up into a blue sky that was quickly vanishing behind an influx of cottonlike gray clouds. “That damn weatherman said sunny and warm all day long,” I muttered to myself before tossing the butt down to the sidewalk.
As I reached for the handle of the door, my hand collided with another. Without looking, I mumbled, “?’Scuse me,” and moved my hand away.
“No, excuse me,” a familiar voice replied.
I looked up into Deeka’s smoky eyes. Truly surprised, I stumbled backward. “What are you doing here?”
“Brought you these,” he said, and pulled a dozen long-stemmed yellow roses from behind his back.
I looked at the flowers and then at him. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“What? No,” Deeka said in a wounded voice. “I brought these for you because, you know, I’m sorry about what happened the other night.”
“I told you it wasn’t a problem.”
What kind of game was this man trying to run on me? Men like him did not buy roses for women like me.
Deeka’s face went slack and his eyes swung slowly between me and the roses, and I could tell he was trying to figure out what exactly it was he’d done wrong.
I softened. “I’m sorry,” I said, bringing my hand up and wiping the perspiration from my forehead. “I’ve just had a rough day.”
Deeka’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “That’s okay. I have bad days too. I know how it is. I hope these will help,” he said, pushing the flowers at me again.
“They’re beautiful. Thank you,” I said as I took them.
A loud tapping sound interrupted us. I looked up at the diner window to see Darlene standing on the other side, hands on her hips, giving me an annoyed look. “We have customers,” she mouthed dramatically.
“I gotta go,” I said, and then added, “Thanks again,” before I hustled past him and through the doorway.
Darlene’s eyes were as large as saucers as I scurried in and headed toward the locker room.
Once inside and alone, I took a moment to admire the beautiful roses.
When was the last time a man gave me flowers?
I thought as I pushed my face into the velvet petals and deeply inhaled their fragrant aroma.
No time in the past decade, that’s for sure.
“Who was that?” Darlene stage-whispered from behind me.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Why you always sneaking up on people?” I barked, and shoved the roses into my locker.
“He looks like one of our customers,” she said, rolling her eyes up and to the left. “Is he?”
“Yeah,” I mumbled.
“Is he…are y-you two…” Darlene stuttered, then finally made an offensive gesture with her fingers and laughed.
“Oh please, girl!”
“Oh please, girl, nothing. That man is fine; I know I would be fucking him!”
“Stop it!”
“Who is he?” she asked again, leaning in close now.
“Him? Well, that’s Eric’s friend.”
Her face went blank for a second. “Your son, Eric?”
“Yeah.”
Her head swiveled on her neck. “Is it your birthday or something?”
“No.”
“Then why the hell is Eric’s friend bringing you flowers?” Darlene had a sly expression on her face.
I didn’t answer fast enough, and she said, “I knew that man looked too young for you. You robbing the cradle, Geneva?”
“No!”
“Yeah, okay, Mrs.Robinson,” Darlene sneered, turning on her heels and walking away.
***
At six o’clock on the dot, thunder tore through the sky above the diner and lightning followed each booming clap before rain, like pellets, began to fall from the dark sky.
I stood staring out into the wet evening, sorry that I didn’t have the good sense to keep an umbrella at work for these surprise storms.
“You got an extra umbrella?” I asked Darlene, who was adjusting the straps to her plastic rain cap.
“Nah, girl. Just this one,” she said, holding up a flimsy black umbrella that I knew wasn’t going to stand a chance against the strong wind that already had debris frantically spinning out on the sidewalk.
Darlene would be soaked through by the time she got to the corner.
“We could share,” she said.
“Nah, you go on ahead. Besides, we have to go in two different directions.”
“See you Monday, then.”
“Have a good one,” I said, and watched as she streaked through the door and made a mad dash down the street.
Maybe it will let up, I thought, as I greeted one of the new waitresses who was walking through the door.
“It’s nasty out there,” she mumbled. She made her way past me and slipped twice on the tile floor before carefully tiptoeing her way across the remaining three feet and then through the swinging doors of the kitchen.
“José,” I called to the young busboy who was clearing a table nearby, “would you get the mop and clean up the water here before someone kills himself or herself?”
“Sí, Geneva. No problem,” he said, and hurried off.
I turned my attention back to the weather. It didn’t look like it was getting any better, so I adjusted my pocketbook on my shoulder, clutched my flowers close to my chest, and stepped out into the rain.
***
Back in my apartment, my wet hair was wrapped in a towel, my feet were covered in mismatched socks, and what was left of my roses was stuffed into a tall ceramic cup and sitting in the middle of the kitchen table.
I was on the couch, Charlie snuggled up alongside me as we watched The Lion King for the millionth time.
It was all I could do to keep from grinning every time I looked over at the roses.
Who knew flowers could make a woman spin on the inside!
But I had to keep it under control. I couldn’t let my fantasy life spill over into my real life.
Deeka was probably just really sorry for what had happened and was working overtime to make it up to me.
I mean, he did want to manage my son and I was Eric’s mother, so who best to kiss up to, right?
That was all it was. He was just trying to get close to me to keep Eric. He wasn’t a bit more interested in me than I was in the neighborhood crackhead.
The lock turned and the doorknob shuddered as the door creaked open and Eric walked in. “Hey, Ma. Hey, squirt.”
“Hey, Eric,” Charlie and I said in unison.
“Where you been?” I asked.
“Practice.”
“Oh.”
“You washed your hair?” He posed the question as he flipped through the mail that was on the table.
“Nah, got caught in the storm.”
“Yeah, it really came down, huh?”
I nodded my head.
“If I had a car I would have picked you up,” Eric said as he grabbed hold of my terry-cloth turban. “Well, if everything goes the way Deeka says it will, I might have one before the summer is over.”
I sat up slowly and looked deep into my son’s eyes.
I knew about dreams that never came true.
Shattered hopes. “That’s nice, baby. But what do you really know about this Deeka guy?
How do you know that he won’t just use you and the other guys and then toss you aside for something better?
” I asked, knowing full well I was expressing my own personal fears.
“I don’t,” Eric said as he started toward his room. “I just have to take that chance.”
***
I felt a hand on my shoulder, shaking me awake. “Geneva.” My name came through the remaining wisps of a dream. Turning over, I sat up and reached for the switch on the lamp. “Huh?” I mumbled as the soft yellow light illuminated the room.
“Hey,” the voice came again.
My eyes flew open and Deeka was standing over me. “What the hell are you doing here?” I screamed, snatching the covers up over my bare breasts. “How did you get into my apartment? In my bedroom!” I screeched, snatching the extra pillow from beside me and holding it up like a shield.
“I needed to see you.”
I shook my head, trying to clear my mind so that I could understand what was happening here. “Where’s Eric?”
“Ever since I first saw you, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind,” he whispered, coming to sit on the edge of the bed.
I inched backward until my back was pressed against the headboard.
“Geneva, I’m not here to hurt you. Why are you so frightened of me?”
“I’m dreaming, right? This is a dream?”
“Shhhhh.” Deeka hushed me and reached for the pillow. “I asked God for you, Geneva, and he brought you to me.”
“What?”
“Shhhhh,” he whispered, and reached over and pressed his index finger against my lips. As he inched closer to me, I could smell his cologne and feel the heat streaming off his body. Everything inside of me was suddenly alive and thumping. I hadn’t felt that way in so long!
His fingers moved slowly across my face, caressing my cheekbones, stroking the lobes of my ears, then moving to my chin before dropping down to my neck. Both hands now, caressing, stroking.
I moaned loudly, and then his lips were on mine, his tongue probing.
I was limp with lust and fell effortlessly back against the headboard, my arms flailing at my sides.
“Geneva,” he moaned, and climbed on top of me, his hands pulling the comforter down, revealing my naked breasts.
“Don’t,” I said, ashamed of their size and how, now at this age and after two babies, they’d lost their perkiness and slid like cowards down into my armpits.
“Why? They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful,” he said, and gathered up my double-Ds and began to plant tender kisses all over them.
I was dizzy with desire, and my hands grabbed hold of his head, my fingers stroking the short stiff hairs on his head as he hungrily sucked on my nipples.
When I knew I couldn’t take much more, I forced his mouth back to mine and we kissed passionately.
“Ma?” Eric’s voice echoed off to my right.
“Ma!”
My eyes flew open, and I was blinded by the white fabric of my pillowcase.
Throwing the pillow off my face, I looked up to see my son giving me a bewildered look. “What are you doing?”
What did it look like I was doing? I was making out with my pillow!
“Nothing, why?” I said in my best mind-your-goddamn-business, I-pay-the-fucking-bills-in-this-piece mother voice.
Eric made a face and then hit the snooze button on the clock radio, bringing Barry White’s sweet serenade to an abrupt end.
Eric gave me a knowing smile before walking out of the room.
I lay there for a while, pissed off that it had been a dream, but even more pissed off that I hadn’t had a chance to get to the good part!