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“Calrity’ll be home next week.”
I pushed my behind as close to his meat as I could without starting another round. It flicked hard against me. I blushed and turned to face him. He smiled bright and pulled me close with a satisfied sigh.
I could love Alcee Laurent easy, if I could only see him as a man, and not that seventeen-year-old boy who opened up my womanhood. He possessed an exceptional soul, and he always smelled like sandalwood and the sea; especially after making love.
“I know. She told me,” he said, kissing me clear ‘cross my collarbone. “I’ll come by for dinner with y’all on Sunday.”
“Don’t remind me. You know how much I hate pretending.”
“Well Cher, you shouldn’t have put your charms on me,” he said laughing between wet kisses to my breasts.
“You ain’t under no spells, Laurent. You can stay home with yo’ wife and all them beautiful children you made with her.” I reminded him.
“But, you ain’t there. These,” he said taking my nipple in his mouth. “Ain’t there.” I slapped him ‘cross his back. “Woman, you know I’ve loved you since I was a babe,” he said, then turned quiet. “Are we in love, Cher?”
“Do we have to have that kinda talk, right now? Clarity’s coming home, and I’on need stars and hearts in my eyes, Alcee Laurent.” I pulled the covers and my knees to my chest.
He took one of my hands in his and put it to his heart.
“You never wanna have that particular kind of talk. I love you.” he said.
“Then why’d I even bother finding you a nice young lady?”
“Another of your mysteries, I’ll never understand.” he said pressing his mouth against my arm. “But, I trust your decision making.”
A shy smile spread across my big ol’ mouth. “You sho’ know how to keep a smile on my face, you silver tongued sidewinder,” I said giggling and swatted his tight behind.
“That’s my singular purpose on this side of eternity, Cher.”
My cheeks flushed and my nipple tighten against his lips.
Alcee was good friends with my girls when they was children—not little children, they didn’t meet him ‘til he came to the Isle to visit his people one summer. He must’a been ‘bout seventeen years old back then. He was a few years older than the girls, I remember wondering why a young man his age was hanging ‘round with thirteen-year-old girls, then I learned he liked to sew. I laid back a little on the count I thought he was a gay, ‘cause he sewed dresses and stuff. Even still, I covered my baby girls with a proper cedar smudging for protection and I kept my eye on their dealings. One day it was hotter than cayenne pepper piss and he asked for a cold drink. The girls was off running ‘round and I let him in out the heat to wait for ‘em. He was well developed even then, and slick as can be.
Alcee was gorgeous and gold as sunset. He was sho’nuff a Louisiana French Creole bearing the markings of sandy brown hair and marble green eyes with the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen on a human being. They looked black, like normal folks’, until the sun hit ‘em just so; then you’d see, they was brown like a mink coat. He was from Lafayette and heading to college to play football. That alone intrigued me. A football player who knowed how to sew. His Grandma was the best seamstress on the Isle and he learned right at her skirt hem. I’ain never gon’ forget the way he came up behind me in the kitchen and touched my hips with nothin’ but his fingertips.
“Boy! What the hell you think you doing!” I snapped and when I turned ‘round he put a sound kiss on my lips. I hadn’t been kissed like that, ever. I near ‘bout sunk through the floorboards. He lifted me to the kitchen sink and slipped his fingers between my panties, then his tongue between my teeth. We carried on like that for several minutes before the screen door slammed and the sound of running feet cut through the hedonistic lust. I was awfully shamed, but after the girls was sound asleep that night, I took him in my bed. Twenty years have passed and I still take him in my bed after my granddaughter is sound asleep.
“Where are you right now?” I once asked as we lay naked, pressed body to body. Confusion painted his gold face in the moonlight.
“Is that some kind of trick question?” he asked, his forehead crinkled.
“Not at all.” I gave him a light kiss, then rubbed the lines ‘way with my thumbs. “Where does she think you are right now?” Out of some kinda respect, I never use his wife’s name. I could tell the question made him uncomfortable cause he shifted ‘round and adjusted his thing.
“I come down here to work in peace. This place, where my ancestors are, inspires me. You inspire me.”
Which wasn’t an untruth. He shows up on my doorstep well after dark with flowers and trinkets, spends the night with me, and creeps out at the crack of dawn. When we moved to Houma, I built a little place for him and he spent his day there, up the road a bit. A side from the facts that he’s not more than a child and married; I kept strong feelings for Alcee Laurent; feelings I’d never kept for no other man.
#CopyrightedMaterials2018 Lovonna Joseph