Page 12 of Love Me Carefully
Chapter Three
An envelope on his credenza held the house key he’d given Tanya. Terrell sighed; she was really out of his life. He still wasn’t sure how that made him feel. Would he miss her? Would she try to get back with him? A part of him felt that he was losing a good thing, but the greater part figured he was cutting his losses. If Tanya could cheat on him so easily when they weren’t even married, just imagine what she’d do when they made it legal.
It was probably all for the best. He’d simply have to start his search again. His dream hadn’t changed just because he’d misjudged one woman. He knew there was a woman for him out there somewhere, a woman who would complete him, who could complement him and his future. He simply had to find her, the missing piece to the puzzle, and things would be on the right track again.
His eyes scanned the empty spots in the closet where her clothes used to hang, the long stretch of the mahogany dresser left vacant by the removal of her perfumes and other toiletries and he felt a wave of distress. Cursing, he left the bedroom. He was tired of wasting time. He was thirty-three years old; it was time to settle down.
Walking through the apartment his mind moved to how he’d come to be at this point in his life. He’d been tops in his class back in Baltimore and had gone on to graduatecum laudein his class at Howard. Now he was writing his own contracts and picking and choosing which companies he’d work with.
His savings account had plenty of zeroes in it and had afforded him the luxury of living in an upscale waterfront condo and membership to its full-service gym. There he’d met a few guys and they’d started hanging out. Then the women had noticed him. He was no stranger to women but wasn’t really accustomed to the overt passes he now experienced, since during his teenage years he’d been considered the geeky type. At six one, about one eighty, with honey brown skin and more than average intelligence, Terrell considered himself a good catch.
Compared to the guys he hung out with—buff, two-twenty, flashy dressers with a smooth pick-up game—Terrell was the strong, silent type. He wore wire-rimmed glasses and had a tendency to talk only about work.
Then he’d met Tanya.
She’d bowled him over with her stunning good looks and her air of class. And the sex wasn’t too bad either. He’d thought he had the perfect package. One of his friends had mentioned that she looked high maintenance before Terrell had gathered the nerve to approach her, so on their first date, he’d picked her up in a limo and took her to a ritzy restaurant. From that moment on he’d wined and dined her, buying her expensive gifts and flowers, lavishing her with everything a woman could ever want. Apparently, that hadn’t been enough.
So now he sat on his couch, alone in his apartment, wondering when he’d gotten off track. When had he lost sight of the type of woman he really needed in his life? He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Behind his library card was a tattered piece of paper. On that paper were the criteria to becoming Terrell Pierce’s wife. He’d made the list when he was fifteen. He smiled at the memory and read the words he’d believed were a sure thing.
Number one—cute. She didn’t have to be a raving beauty. During his childhood he was convinced that his thick glasses and braced teeth would only grow worse, so having a beautiful woman look his way was unlikely. He’d figured as long as she was pleasing to look at, that would be good enough.
Number two—short. While his father had been five eleven, Terrell had been the skinniest and shortest boy in his class. When he’d made this list, he’d thought he would remain that size and so, wanted a wife he didn’t have to look up to. By the time he’d reached the eleventh grade a very late growth spurt hit and he shot up to his current height, picking up twenty pounds in the process. He’d never gone back to revise this part of the list.
Number three—job. His mother had always been home with him before his father died. Terrell wanted his wife to do the same. Sure, it might seem outdated and maybe a little chauvinistic, but he wanted to be the one taking care of his family financially, the way his father had done when he was alive.
Number four—cook. She had to cook. Terrell loved to eat. He could cook a little himself, so he wasn’t totally useless, but he still wanted a woman who could throw down.
Andnumber five—love. The woman he married had to love him unconditionally. He hadn’t been the best-looking boy on the block, and he had been skinny. Figuring he probably wouldn’t change much in the years to come he’d added this final requirement. While his looks had improved, the need for unconditional love was still crucial.
Although he was grown now and not as plagued by low self-esteem and immature ideas as that child had been, he still wanted a good woman by his side, and held out hope that he’d find her one day. But for now, that would have to go on the back burner. His mother needed him.
For so long it had always been just the two of them. Now, with her nuptial announcement, that was changing. He put his little piece of paper back into his wallet, determined not to think about his own love life for the time being. Tired of thinking about his life, period, he leaned over and pressed the message light on his answering machine.
“Hi, Terrell, this is Mama. I wanted to remind you about the party on Saturday. I’m looking forward to seeing you. Love you. Bye.”
His mother’s voice echoed through his apartment. He missed her. The last few weeks at work had been pretty hectic, but he knew that was no excuse. He needed to see her. She’d tell him what went wrong with Tanya and how to start the search again. His mother was like that, always giving him the best advice, always looking out for his best interests.
With a start, he figured it was probably time he started doing the same for her. She’d announced she was getting married, but Terrell had no idea to whom. Sure, she’d told him the man’s name—and come to think of it, she’d only told him his first name—and that was all he knew about him. When had she started dating? Throughout the years since his father’s death, they’d remained pretty close, confiding in each other as much as humanly possible, yet he didn’t know she’d found a man worthy of settling down with.
So, he pushed aside his own troubled love life and focused on his mother and her matrimonial plans. Right now, the condo held too many memories for him to stomach, and deciding to spend the weekend at his mother’s house, he packed some clothes in a duffle bag, grabbed his suit off the door—Mama would make him go to church on Sunday, of that he was sure—locked up the condo and climbed into his Mercedes.
In the car he turned on the radio. When he heard the first notes of Toni Braxton’s ‘Another Sad Love Song,’ he quickly switched the station.
* * *
Rosie clucked around the kitchen moving from the stove to the refrigerator to the table and back to the stove again. She had macaroni boiling for the seafood salad; potatoes sitting in a strainer in the sink waiting to be mixed with the secret ingredients of her potato salad; chicken wings marinating in hot peppers and Tabasco; and iced tea chilling in the refrigerator. She loved to cook, so when Donald offered to have the party catered, she’d squawked about wasting money and set out to prepare it all herself.
They were having twenty of their closest friends and relatives at her house tonight. Last night she’d cleaned the living room and dining room furiously. The upstairs she could do later this morning. That way it would be fresh when the guests arrived.
Her spirits were high as she sailed through the little kitchen humming and singing. Terrell had come in last night. He’d come home. She couldn’t believe he’d decided to stay overnight. He lived only about twenty minutes from her, yet he’d brought his clothes and gone to his old room as if he’d never left. He had grown a little goatee since the last time she’d seen him, and picked up a little weight. Both looked good on him. He’d become a really handsome man who reminded her a lot of his father. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed her only child until he’d grabbed her for a big bear hug.
She was waiting for him to get up now so they could have some time alone to talk. Donald was going to come over a few hours before the party so that he and Terrell could meet before the other guests arrived. However, she sensed something was bothering Terrell, and wanted the chance to talk to him alone first.
“Mornin’, Mama.” Still rubbing sleep out of his eyes, Terrell stepped into the kitchen, interrupting Rosie’s thoughts.
“Mornin’, baby. Sit down and I’ll get you something to eat.” Moving the chicken from the table to the counter, Rosie made room for her son to sit down.
“Nah, I’ll just have some coffee.” Taking a seat, Terrell noticed all the things his mother had going. “You sure you’re cooking enough?”
