Chapter 17
Sorry
Chapter Seventeen
Ella
“Ella, you got anymore of those maple bacon cupcakes?” Mrs. Shirley asks.
Today was my mother’s church’s annual community event.
Once a year, the church turned its large parking lot into a flea market-type event.
Members of the church would come out, put up a tent, and sell everything from fish plates, handmade flower arrangements, old clothes, to car detailing services.
It was a way for the church to raise money and give a little something back to the community.
Every year my mother puts my name down as a dessert vendor. And every year my tent gets the most attention.
“I have only a few left.” I grab the container with the maple-bacon cupcakes inside.
When I was planning my desserts for this event, I hadn’t planned to add the maple-bacon cupcakes. But Mitch told me I’d be crazy not to include them. Those are his favorites. I even had a stash put aside just for him.
After I handed Mrs. Shirley her cupcakes, she paid and went on her way. I busied myself rearranging the remaining desserts I had left.
“How ya’ doing, sister Ella?”
I look up to find Deacon Randall smiling down at me. His bald head was shining in the sun. It almost outshone the gold-capped tooth in his mouth.
For a nearly sixty-year-old man, I won’t lie, the deacon was good-looking. Deep brown skin, dark brown eyes, and a lined goatee. He was dressed in a gray collared knit shirt tucked into his jeans. The giant phone case attached to his belt buckle was a little off-putting, but not too bad.
“I’m fine, Deacon Randall.”
The smile on his face grew a little wider. “You sho’ is. God has been good to you.”
I would be shocked at the man’s blatant attempt to hit on me. But even though this is his first time approaching me, his eyes have been on me all day. His boiled peanut tent is across from mine, and every time I look up, I find him staring at me.
Ducking my head, I tried to hide my laugh. “What can I get for you, deacon?”
“Yo’ mama brags about how good your pound cakes are. I said I’d better come on over here and get me some before you sell out of them.”
For some reason, I had this feeling we weren’t completely talking about my actual pound cakes.
I move over to the cake section of my table and hand him one of the pre-sliced pieces of cake.
“Well, you don’t have to take her word for it. Give it a try.”
The way his eyes raked down to my chest made me feel exposed. Deacon Randall was mannish.
He took the offered slice from me, peeling the plastic wrap back. He broke off a piece and placed it in his mouth. The moment he chewed, his eyes rolled back.
“Mmm mmhhh,” he moans. “Now dat’s some good cake. Let me get five more of those.”
I go gather his cake slices and place them in a bag.
“That will be $25. The first slice was on the house.”
Deacon Randall pulls a fifty off his roll of cash and hands it to me. “You go ‘head and keep that change.” He winks at me before taking his bag of cakes.
“Deacon Randall. We want some of your peanuts,” a lady shouts from across the parking lot. When I look past the deacon at the woman, she gives me the stank-face look, like I might be her competition or something.
Deacon Randall holds up a hand to the lady to suggest giving him a minute. When he turns back to me, that smile is planted on his face again.
“Maybe I’ll see you around, Sister Ella.” He gives me a head to toe glance, followed by another wink before he walks off.
I stare at his back, feeling a bit unsettled. Never expected to be hit on at my mama’s church function. I pull out my phone and immediately send out a text.
Me: I might’ve counted Deacon Randall out too soon. Not only did he tell me I looked fine and blessed, but he bought several slices of my pound cake and tipped me well.
Within seconds of sending the message, the dots appear on my screen, letting me know the recipient is texting me back.
Mitchie: Tell old man Deacon, don’t get his ass kicked. I’d hate to send him to meet his Lord and Savior earlier than he planned.
I toss my head back and laugh at Mitch’s text.
Me: LOL! You better leave the good deacon alone.
Mitchie: He better stay away from my woman.
The moment I read the text, my heart skipped a beat and my body grew hot. Mitch and I have been messing around for two full months now. That’s a full eight weeks of sneaking around and having mind-blowing sex.
Every day with that man is like a refreshing breath of air.
Mitch, as a friend, is supportive, patient, and kind.
Mitch as a lover is all those things and more.
When I’m with him, it’s like I cut my brain off and just be.
I’m not Ella, the mother of two, or the divorcee, or hell, the medical receptionist. When I’m with Mitchell, I feel like Ella, the fifteen-year-old with her entire life still ahead of her.
And it isn’t just the way he makes love to me, it’s everything that he is.
He listens when I talk; he makes me feel as if my opinions and thoughts matter.
Even if I’m wrong about something, he doesn’t scold me like some idiot.
He will simply correct me and allow me to explain why I thought the wrong thing.
With Mitch, I feel as if I can be myself.
He accepts me as the clumsy, nerdy woman who can talk for hours about a book I read or some new recipe I want to try. He just lets me be.
And lately, he’s been saying things like calling me his woman or talking about our future. And every single time he does it, I get this overwhelming feeling of fear. Because I know, no matter how happy we are, this cannot last.
Me: Your woman? I thought we were just having fun?
I bite down on my lip, waiting for his reply.
Mitchie: We are. That doesn’t change the fact that You. Belong. To. Me, Ella Marie.
The way my heart is beating overtime should be studied. I swear that man says some of the simplest things in the most profound way.
“Look at that.”
I take my eyes off my phone when I hear my mother’s voice.
“I haven’t seen that smile in a long time.”
Tucking my phone back into my apron pocket, I turned my attention to my mother.
“What are you talking about?” I feign confusion as I rearrange the red velvet cake slices. “I smile all the time.”
“That wasn’t just a smile, baby girl. That’s the smile a woman has when she is truly happy. The happiness you get from one of two reasons. Either she has finally found love and peace within herself, or she found that love and peace from a man.”
My hands pause in their busy work as I take her words in. I try not to give too much thought to what she said. Shaking my head, I force a chuckle.
“It’s nothing.”
My mother’s gaze locks onto me. She walks around the table to stand beside me.
“A little birdie told me you’ve been going on a lot of dates lately.”
I turn to her and cock my eyebrow. “By little birdie you mean Cameron,” I tease. “Stop using my baby boy to get information about me.”
She waves me away. “Don’t you worry about the relationship I have with my grandchild.”
I laugh out loud. My mom and Cameron have been tight ever since he was born. That’s her partner in crime and her gossip buddy.
“Now tell me about this man that’s got you glowing?”
I stopped to help a customer before turning and giving her my full attention.
“How do you know it’s a man? You said it could be two things, maybe I’ve just fallen in love with myself.”
I shrug, folding my hands across my chest. She watches me with a smug smile on her face.
“Mmm hmmm,” she hums. “Did yourself leave that hickey on your neck?”
Immediately, I use my hand to cover the large hickey Mitch left the other night. I could have killed him when I saw it two days ago. I thought my makeup covered it.
“Is it that bad?” I ask, feeling a bit embarrassed.
Mama rolls her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. “Girl, you’re a grown woman. And you ain’t the first person to show up to a church function with a hickey.”
I let out a deep breath, feeling a little relieved.
“Now,” she goes on to say, looking me up and down. “Tell me about him?”
I stop to think about Mitch, how good he’s been to me, not just the two months but all the time that I’ve known him. Being with him is like being with your best friend.
“He’s incredible. Funny, charming, loving. He understands me, Mama. That man feeds me mentally, spiritually, and physically. He nourishes my soul in a way that I never thought was possible.”
The truth flows out of me. In the two months I’ve been with him, I’ve learned so much about myself.
When I finish, my mother is grinning from ear to ear. “He sounds like a keeper.”
I have to look up to keep the tears that form at bay.
“That’s the thing, I can’t keep him.” As great as she thinks my mystery man is, I know that if I told her it was Mitch, she’d lose her mind. My mother would think I was crazy. She’d remind me of how bad an idea this is.
“What? Why?”
“It’s complicated. We’re just having fun.” I force a laugh to dismiss the hurt.
She steps closer and cups my cheek. Using her thumb, she swiped at my face. I’m assuming one of the tears I was trying to fight back has fallen.
“Doesn’t seem like this is just for fun. Seems to me feelings are involved.”
I pull away from her touch and use the back of my hand to clean my cheek. I force another smile.
“You know how things are when they're new. He and I both know that we are on borrowed time. We’re just enjoying it while we can.”
My mother’s gaze narrows. Not in a bad way, more like one of those looks when she knows way more than she should. Eventually, she nods her head, and a smile lifts her lips.
“Well, enjoy your fun. You deserve it. But I want to remind you that love plays by no one's rules, baby girl. Just remember that.”
I refuse to accept the truth of her words. I cannot be in love with Mitchell. This isn’t what’s supposed to happen. We’re just having fun.
Maybe if I say it enough times, I’ll start to believe myself.