Chapter 4 #2
Chuckling, she smiled as she made her way back to me, lacing her fingers between mine. Hand-in-hand, we began our stride. Summer was headed for the truck.
“Not that way, Miss Summer.”
Confusion plagued her.
“This way.”
I tilted my head in the other direction.
“To the trolley.”
“The trolley?” She asked, lips peeling backward with wonder.
“To the trolley. Will that be a problem?”
“Not a problem at all.”
“Good then.”
Quietly, she nestled against my body, keeping my pace. We made the two short blocks to the trolley within eight minutes. I’d already asked three times if her feet were alright. She promised me she’d worn comfortable shoes. Still, I felt obligated to check in every couple of minutes.
“How are your feet?”
We stood near the ledge, awaiting the halting of the trolley. We’d made it to our stop a few seconds early, but were seemingly right on time. The stop was deserted. We were the only passengers prepared to step on when the wheels stopped rolling.
“They’re fine, Saul. I promise.”
With my assistance, Summer crossed over onto the cart without issue.
“I’ve made peace with wearing comfortable shoes when with y–”
Summer’s feet stopped moving, forcing mine to do the same. The usually lively trolley was nearly void of light completely. The battery-powered candle lights were all that kept the cart from being pitch black. To the far right, near the back of the trolley was a table set for two.
A white cloth covered the table. Dinnerware clung to their positions as the trolley wheels began rolling again. Summer was paralyzed.
With something.
Be it fear.
Overwhelm.
Adoration.
Gratitude.
Disappointment.
Amusement.
Astonishment.
Her face wasn’t the simplest to read because it was completely blank. Void of emotion.
Did I fuck up? I wondered.
Does she hate it?
“Say something, Summer.”
Anticipation wouldn’t allow me to be silent much longer.
She shook her head, attempting to find words.
“I– Saul–”
“We can do something else if you’d prefer.”
“No. No. This is perfect. I just– How’d you? How? No one is here but us. Where are the– where’s everyone? And how’d this table– Saul.”
The way she said my name…
As if she was in immediate need of me. Or something I had to offer.
Of everything I had to offer. As if she was deprived.
I loved that shit. Being needed. Feeling needed.
Being desired. Knowing that someone wanted something to do with me and not because they were blood and it was somewhat of an obligation to put up with a nigga.
“After you–”
I extended my arm, waiting until she was walking again before I joined. She made it to the table and slid across the seat. I did the same, directly in front of her. As we settled in, the host for the evening joined us.
Chef Louis.
“Good evening, Ma’am. Sir. Welcome aboard. I’m Chef Louis, Head Chef at Solo ArtHouse. Tonight’s dinner will include some of our house favorites with a Louis twist. Shall we get started with water or wine?”
“Both.” Summer giggled.
“Both, then,” I emphasized.
Whatever the lady wants.
Summer propped her hand underneath her chin and stared at me through those dreamy eyes.
“What is it, Miss Summer?”
“What other tricks do you have under that hat of yours?”
I shook my head and lifted my hands.
“None.”
“The Head Chef of Solo ArtHouse? Seriously?”
“He’s out of a job for the next week while they rebuild their kitchen. I figured why the hell not. Tracked ‘em down and here we are.”
“And, the trolley?”
“I can’t give you all of my secrets, Summer.”
She quieted herself and settled with a smile.
“You’re so pretty.”
Her cheeks swelled as her eyes blinked slowly.
She was tantalizing.
Hypnotic.
Uintentionally alluring.
“Thank you.”
I rubbed a hand down my face and sat back in my seat. It was official. I was doomed and I didn’t give a damn.
“What’s on your mind, Mister?”
I shook my head.
“I’m in trouble, Summer. Big trouble. Good trouble.”
“How so?”
I nodded toward her.
She pressed her pointer finger into her chest.
“Me?”
“I see too much of my future when I see you. I hear it too. Loud and clear. The way you say my name. The way you– shit, just you.”
“What else do you see in your future?”
“A wife. A son. A daughter. Hopefully two daughters. A porch along the entire brownstone I plan to purchase. Plants– as many as your heart desires. Long work days. Entering the house to little feet storming toward me. Something hearty to eat.”
“As many plants as my heart desires?” Summer laughed as our drinks were placed in front of us.
“Me?”
“Yes, you, Summer. Is it not computing in your brain that you are a part of these plans?”
She swirled the wine in front of her before taking a sip. Slowly, she nodded.
“It’s becoming clearer.”
“Have I not been part of the scenarios you’ve made in your head since we met the other day?”
“You have been,” she confessed.
“Tell me what you’ve saw.”
“You and I.”
Chef Louis placed appetizers in front of us. I went for the smoked brussel sprouts immediately.
“I’m listening.”
“And brown babies,” she whispered.
Chuckling, I brought my hands together, chewing the food I’d placed in my mouth.
“Come on– let’s hear it.”
“I knew I wasn’t the only delusional one here.”
“It doesn’t have to be delusion if we both want the same thing, Summer. Just effort and energy and time and the will to keep going even when we want to quit because we know what we’re striving for. I wouldn’t call it delusion, love. I’d call it destiny. Yours. Mine. Ours.”
“Ours.”
Conversation flowed effortlessly. I imagined her cheeks were sore by the time we finished our appetizers and began our main course.
“Tell me about you,” she requested as I cut into the medium-well steak.
“Mother died very early in my life. Broke my father’s heart, but it led him to his truest love.
My stepmother. She’s been in my life since my memories started.
All I remember is her, honestly. My father is a working man.
A provider. Always have been. Barely there but always there and never too far away.
Weekends were our time. I’ve always loved weekends for that bit alone.
I have two brothers. Older and younger. I graduated top of my class.
Shit, we all did. It was a requirement in our household from both of our parents.
Went on to college to finish the same way.
Came home and worked in corporate and quickly realized it wasn’t for me.
But, I built my contacts and client list while there. When I left, I took my people with me.”
“What is it that you do, exactly?”
“Creative consulting for seven-figure companies.”
“Creative consulting– that’s different.”
“Simple, too. Most companies worry about one thing… making the money. Sharing their ideas with the world just isn't their strength. That’s where I come in. From packaging to brand message– the whole nine. You?”
“Boring life. Boring job.” She chuckled.
“Nothing is boring about you, love. Unless I’m just boring too. But, I find everything about you interesting. Intriguing, even.”
“I’m an editor. I edit novels for independently published African American authors. My focus is romance, but I’m not opposed to other genres as long as the characters are Black.”
“Emphasis on Black, huh?”
“Always. In all ways,” she sniggered.
“I could do this every day.”
My thoughts were loud. They’d exited without my permission. Still, I didn’t care to take them back.
“This?”
“Yeah. This.”
“I could do this every day, too.”
I basked in her presence until long after dinner ended.
She was such a breath of fresh air. All the parts of her that she considered boring had me wanting to know more.
Summer had a way of giving just enough detail to keep you on the edge of your seat, craving whatever would fall from her lips next.
“Your feet– they’re good?”
We rounded the corner of her block. Aside from the chirping of the night crawlers and the swaying of the wind, there was a comfortable silence that we both allowed to take space.
“Um hm.”
Hand-in-hand, we slowly approached our destination. Her porch light helped me see her better. The sleepy version of her. The tired version. The full version. The version that needed her rest more than I needed a few more minutes of her time.
Instinctively, I slid my hand behind Summer’s hair, using her neck to pull her closer. Gravity landed my lips on hers. Her mouth parted, welcoming me inside. I made myself at home, exploring every corner within my tongue’s reach.
Deeply.
Passionately.
Confidently.
Summer kissed me.
She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t hold back. She didn’t shy away. She stamped her name on my tongue. Left evidence of her existence on the skin of my teeth. And hydrated my lips on the way out.
Dazed, I watched her pull away, digging the key into the door.
“Goodnight, Saul.”
“Goodnight, Miss Summer.”
I touched my lips, reminded of where she’d been. Where she belonged. And where she’d always be from this moment forward.
Smiling, I turned away and made my way to my truck.
My mother would be happy to hear about the woman I’d been seeing.
However, it was my father who I couldn’t wait to tell the good news.
He’d told me this day would come and I’d know once it did.
There wouldn’t be a question in the matter. My time had come. Without a doubt.
Pops, I’ve found my wife.