Vision Ch. 06

One mother's day it occurred to me the sacrifices she made and I was absolutely overwhelmed with the realization of the love, strength and devotion it takes to raise children well. I was so filled with gratitude I wrote her a letter.

We weren't as close as she and Lili, those two were more like sisters than mother and daughter, but she said I may have been the only person to ever really understand her, she was really touched to receive a letter like that especially from a daughter.

The serious one was Neal. We broke up because of religion. I've not done the god-thing since 9th grade really, but we'd have these great conversations - he was always knocked out by how much I knew about the bible. One should be reasonably well versed on something before deciding to reject and renounce it. I respected his beliefs, he just couldn't respect mine. I was upset to put it mildly because I was upfront about who I was from the start and asked if It'd be an issue and he initially said no but in the end it turned out to be a deal breaker.

We had a lot in common, same twisted sense of humor, music, literature, even politics to a point. But he was jealous as hell of everyone close to me, especially Eddie. She's always called him on his shit. They hate each other with a passion.

I got pregnant while he was a struggling law clerk, we had a huge argument and I miscarried and for that Eddie has never forgiven him. To this day she completely blames him for the miscarriage, though doctor that she is, she should know better. The cancer caused me to miscarry, were it not for the miscarriage prompting them to look it might very well have been too late. She just hates him is all.

He was there for me, even when it was initially determined I'd never have children, he was all for adoption at some point. We went round for years. I thought we were headed someplace. But he couldn't wrap his mind around me not coming to the Lord so to speak after the health scare. It would have been the height of hypocrisy to suddenly turn to Jesus.

Told me I had a too much of a god complex to believe in a power higher than myself. Ironically, I think back on some of the conversations we used to have and I thank the sweet lord it didn't work out. But he always pushed me to reach for more and for that I will be forever grateful.

But he could really be a bit much; so disdainfully superior and conversely so needing of constant praise and attention, a classic narcissist. When I met him I thought he was a kindred spirit but in the end he turned out to be so bourgeoisie, so disappointingly typical of black people with a little money. It's so weird, one moment you can't live without each other and now I rarely if ever hear from him."

It was for the best in the end. I traveled. I flourished. I lived. He got that law degree and got married and is now living with a good, church-going, god-fearing woman.

She trails off.

"But him you were willing to marry?"

Mocking a public service announcement she says.

"Sorry, but you've missed the romantic idealistic portion of our program." I get it but can't help but feel cheated somehow. But that's an argument for another time.

"So to summarize, between your inherent distrust of anything remotely resembling authority and less than stellar performances on the part of so-called godly people, the situation with your aunt, your best friend and that last bit with the ex - you don't do the 'god thing'.

"No, I don't practice organized religion."

"And children? Are you feeling too compromised health-wise to get your hopes up? Because I know you love children, anyone who's ever seen you with your nephew knows that."

She says nothing as I look at her.

"Uncle Jack and Lenny gave me some pointers."

She grunts. "You trust those jokers?"

"I do."

"Sucker."

"We should have talked like this from the start but we couldn't keep our hands off each other. Now we have something to build on."

"It's always like that in the beginning I think, especially if you sexually click with someone. It's all about where, when, how and how much sex are we going to have."

"Women don't think like that Lou."

"Sure we do, we just don't broadcast it."

"You are hardcore."

"It's the only way to fly."

I chuckle. Eddie's right, Lou is extreme. If this thing ever ends, then that's the absolute end of it. I'm not sure how close we were to the edge this time but it shakes me.

"Don't look so serious." She comes and sits on my lap. "Mmmm . . . I notice you downloaded my music."

"I did."

"And that wasn't presumptuous at all?"

"I was feeling hopeful."

"Mmmm . . I see."

"Lou, what is this song?"

She listens. "Oh Lately it's so Quiet by Ok go."

"I like my jazz, but listening to this song alone in your house almost drove me crazy. I had it on repeat at one point. I think your crazy computer took that as a cue to start playing similar music, because Al Greens How Can You Mend a Broken Heart, and Sinead O'Connor's version of Nothing Compares to You played right after. A fair deal of your scotch may have been consumed. Which led to the facebook break-in."

"I see."

"Yeah."

"So you got at the Scotch. I'm impressed. What were you drinking?"

"Mortlach, 70 year old. It was good, very good in fact. I totally get the scotch thing now. I didn't know it could taste like that. Smooth, kind of like Toffee, like liquid Lulu it tasted - oh so very nice. I pretty much drank it all and I'm sorry about that but I'll be sure to replace it. I tried looking for it but so far haven't been able to find it and one shop owner just laughed at me."

She starts to giggle, and then laugh really hard until the tears roll down her face. I can't help but smile.

"What's so funny?"

Calming, she takes my hand and kisses the palm. "I'll tell you when we get home." Rubbing the back of my neck and putting her forehead to mine she shakes her head and leans back to look at me.

"We should be more careful. It's important that we not break each other."

I squeeze her in agreement. "It's late we should get to bed. Your flight's at 9:00 am?"

"Yeah." She sounds a little down.

"What's wrong Lulu-butt?"

She sighs. "I just got you back. I wish you were coming with me."

"Well then I'll come with you."

She starts to smile but shakes her head, rolling her eyes at herself.

"I'm being pathetic and ridiculous, the last thing you should do is indulge me in this non-sense. I'm a big girl."

"You want me with you. That's neither pathetic or ridiculous. I'm on vacation too - I can do whatever I want. Besides, I'm not ready to have you out of sight just yet either."

"You can't spend all your money trailing me around the world."

"Money's a topic for another time. Let's just say I'm good for it. And anyway I got a free ride here and have a free ride home if need be. I know people."

"At least let me pay for your ticket over?" She looks at me appealingly.

I sigh. "No, but I love you for offering."

She smiles. "So we're flying over to tomorrow?"

"Yes, now let's go to sleep."

"Sleep?" She's pouting prettily.

I sigh. "It's 10:45. Alright 30 minutes and not a second more."

She blinks at me slowly, smiling and nodding. "I can work with that."

----------

We're up at 6:30 and showering together, barely managing not to molest each other. She puts on a white linen suit and black shirt.

"Very John Travolta."

"Damn, I was going for Al Pacino in Scarface."

My little comedienne.

"You look good yourself." Her eyes take me in appreciatively.

"Thanks, can't go wrong with English cut seersucker suiting."

I smile at her but she actually rolls her eyes at me looking mildly perturbed.

"What?"

"You're just so fucking handsome I can't stand it sometimes is all. It's fairly disgusting how attracted I am to you. And I honestly don't understand it. You came out of the shower that day in London pulling on your t-shirt on your way to bed and I have been hooked more or less ever since."

"So you like me for my body?"

"You're funny and smart too. And deeply good. You could stand to gain a few pounds but . . . yeah, I love it."

Way to make a man blush.

After a varied breakfast of toast, fruit, sausage and coffee we drive to the small airport, buy our tickets and sit down to wait. She gives me a wink as she turns a page of the newspaper, other than that she looks pretty serious.

"Lou?"

"Yeah?" Distracted response.

"I hate flying. I don't like heights."

"Hmmm . . . As tall as you are? Well, that is truly unfortunate."

"Unfortunate?"

"Yes, because I like flying and we have stops to make before we go home."

She's back. Ms. Motherfucker. Leaned back reading a newspaper, little shiny brogue footed ankle propped on her knee like she's got balls or something, ignoring me.

I put my hand at the top of her back on her neck and just idly graze my thumb back and forth behind her ear. Her breath hitches and her foot falls to the floor and her head tilts down to the side. The paper drifts to the floor as she leans forward gripping the sides of the plastic chair. I lean over and kiss her ear.

A few simple sentences and her face and neck are flushed. Still stroking her neck and cheek I whisper in her ear.

"Did you come?"

She unsuccessfully tries to stifle a moan as she nods and looks down, cheeks and ears blazing. She shivers as I kiss her cheek and ear again.

"Mine, anytime, anyplace, mine. Don't you ever forget it."

I reach over and pick up the paper refold it and put it in her lap. She looks at me with her mouth open.

"You look warm. Would you like some water?"

She shakes her head. "I can't believe you just did that."

"What did I do? I didn't do anything. You're the one who came in public."

She narrows her eyes and gets up and goes to the ladies room. When she returns she moves to a seat across the aisle. Flared nostrils, heaving breasts, hot and bothered just like I like her. Smoothing her hair and checking her gloss she slides on shades.

They finally call our flight and she stands and straps her messenger bag across her body positioning it on her hip. I go to take her hand and she crosses her arms across her chest. I place an arm around her shoulders and she stiffens.

"Stop it Lou, don't make a scene. You can pay me back later. I'll let you jack me up again."

She relaxes raising that eyebrow above her shades undoubtedly contemplating something wicked. We board the plane and sit down and quickly take off. After 15 minutes the seatbelt sign goes off and she takes out her laptop and checking the email she starts to look grim.

"Dax, we've got a rather serious problem. I keep looking at the projections and something's not right. It's ridiculously fortunate to have the CIO with me on this trip. They've cc'd you on this latest email."

"What's up?"

"For starters the scope creep is off the chain - this is grossly over budget. When was the last time you looked at this project?" She looks at me piercingly.

I take the laptop and scan the email.

"I'm all over this. I re-drafted a statement of work and re-set expectations. Everything will have to be re-negotiated. David was supposed to relay that and then review and refine this and get back to me. Admittedly, I got side-tracked, but I've not neglected this."

She gives me a hard look. "We'll address that later."

Maybe she'll fire me. It'd solve a lot of problems at this point.

"Here's the email I sent to him explaining everything. If I'd known you were working on this too I'd have cc'd you. I'm guessing this is key to the re-branding effort you've been undertaking. Why wouldn't he keep you in the loop?"

"Because he's the type in college that took a razor blade to the library law books and extracted key pages, just to be a fuck-wit. He's been mis-feeding me information."

She quickly scans the screen and looks at her watch. "We've got two and a half hours to sort this bull-shit out. Fuck!"

Several passengers look our way.

"Give me a few minutes."

I download project management software and start plugging in information. We refine and remap the process, modifying the plan to take the new variables into account. By the time we touchdown, we've re-structured the entire project. Lou reviews my plans makes the needed changes. We finish with a pre-emptive review of our litigation-readiness plan. They'd be perfectly within their rights to sue us for breach of contract.

We cab it over to the offices in Port Louis and she goes in to do her thing while I wait and watch outside the conference room. Catching my eye and gesturing for me to come in, she introduces me in her flawless French and gives me the floor.

I'm not sure how flawless my French is but I manage to explain the new plan and respond to the questions. By 3 pm everyone looks relieved and Guy thanks us both profusely for responding so quickly to the problem.

"I love you Americans, so quick! All the way here for us, the CIO himself no less! I am now absolutely convinced we are doing the right thing. You have saved not only myself but my people and their families, you patiently train us you don't move in and take over and shut us down." He stops and turns away, clearly moved and at a loss.

I look at Lou, who gives me a little scowl and rolls her eyes a bit. She reamed me in public and ended up doing the right thing anyway.

"Please, you can't go back just yet, no, stay for dinner. My assistant will arrange accommodation for you. We will meet at 6 for cocktails so that we may enjoy the sunset."

We smilingly accept.

Guy's assistant books us into the La Pirogue, which tickles the shit out of this New Orleans boy. We pick up some clothes and toiletries along the way and check in to our respective rooms. We almost feel guilty having them pay for two rooms, but appearances need to be maintained. I go over to Lulu's door and knock and she opens the door but gestures for quiet, she's on the phone. She looks at me and mouths the word June.

"I see. No, don't worry about it, totally not your fault. Yeah, I'll be cutting this trip short. I've got a few stops to make but I should be back week after next. Nope, don't say a word just keep me informed.

I'm glad you like the vanilla, it's very potent isn't it? You'll have to make me that cake when I come home. The image of Riley and the coconut oil though, that's just disturbing, keep him away from that," she laughs.

"It's fine. I'm a big girl I can handle myself. Yeah it's totally fine, take what you need. I had more shipped to my place, feel free to stop by and help yourself you've got keys. Thanks and remember not a word about either of us being here. Ok Ok - Alright, see you soon!"

"Our honeymoon is over, huh?"

"Afraid so." Still sitting at the desk that houses the phone she crosses her arm and taps her lip with her finger.

"You realize David tried to fuck both of us over on this one?"

"Yep, I saw that. What are you thinking?" I wouldn't want to be on the other side of that look.

"Something mean. Something Cruel. Mmmm something this deliciously wicked should be smooth, creamy and melt on your tongue at just the right moment. Something so devious I can almost taste it." She looks like evil personified.

"Remind me not to cross you."

She laughs lightly. "In fact, if you're willing, I need a favor from you.

Uh oh. I brace myself.

"Yeah, what do you need?"

"I have my suspicions but I need information, solid evidence. I want you to walk me through an email hack."

"Ah shit Lou."

I wipe my hand down my face and sigh.

"Fuck it. We can use my laptop. It's just easier if I do it from there. What do you want - work or private?"

"Both if possible."

"This'll never hold up in court you know."

"Maybe not, but for my needs it might work. Almost doesn't matter how one obtains information, as long as one does not get caught, so hack smart."

I get to work.

"Where to after this?"

"Paris."

"Paris?"

"I need clothes. Denmark only gets into the mid to high 60's during the summer. I don't think our idea of summer wear will work there."

"My family has a flat in Paris?"

"You do not own property in Paris? What the hell Dax?!" She's looking at me incredulously.

"My family owns it and we all pay the taxes and maintenance fees. But Max, my brother, uses it most, he's put a lot of work and personal money into it. He's the one that had it refurbished, but it's got the original herringbone floors and plasterwork. My great grandfather won it in a poker game during WWII."

She gawks at me.

"Hey, what can I say? The French don't welsh on bets. At any rate since the French owned Black Louisianans it's only fitting that we now own a piece of France. We've managed to hang onto it. It's small, but kinda nice.

"That must go over well with the ladies, a flat in Paris. You must have been quite popular in college I'd imagine."

"I wish I'd thought of that, I'd have probably gotten laid more. I never had a chance to sneak off. Mom had and has spies everywhere. She was determined we not make her a young grandmother. My brother gave it a good try though."

She laughs. "In all these years you've never run off to Paris with anyone? How is that? How are you 41 and so innocent almost Dax? You've never lived with anyone, have only had the one serious relationship from what I understand. It's . . . weird."

"Sorry I'm not worldly enough for you."

"Don't be like that. I didn't mean to offend. I'm just wondering if one day you'll wake up and want more or something different."

"Well then say that. Don't call me weird."

"I'm sorry ok. I happen to like weird though. Being weird myself. I like you is all and am wondering how is it no one's claimed you in all this time. Women fiend for men like you, you know."

"Humph."

"This conversation is a fail, so let's change the subject. A place in Paris, I like that action, means more money for shopping."

"When you see those stairs you'll think twice."

She puts her arms around my neck and smiles. "But I have you to carry it all."

"You are setting the feminist movement back about 1000 years with that statement. Wait til they hear. I think I'm gonna need some hush money."

"I'm hardly a feminist, most of those bitches are greedy and whiny as hell, not to mention shrill. My agenda is nobody's but my own. There's no need to be rabid about gender bias, it happens. If I'm in a situation whereas I feel it's getting out of hand I deal with it. Otherwise, I don't let it bother me.

I love Eddie to death but she's one of those women who if she marries refuses to take her husband's name. Says she worked too hard to become a doctor. I understand that but at the same time it's a little ridiculous; I mean come on, you exchange vows, fluids, account numbers and addresses but can't take the man's name for fear of losing your identity. If you don't halfway know yourself by the time you get married, then you shouldn't be doing it. And don't get me started on those women that insist on hyphenating. I hate hyphens! Pick a name."

I laugh as I regard her carefully.

"So, you'd take my name?"

She blinks and frowns at me. "If, miracle of miracles, we were to marry, yes."

"Lulu Wilde would suit you, you know?"

She purses her lips and shrugs. "It does have a certain ring to it."

----------

We quickly wrap up in Mauritius, return to Praslin - pack and leave.

We land in Paris and the taxi quickly takes us to the majestic, eighteenth-century squares of the city, the streets are damp but lovely, beneath skies the color of cement. She loves the flat especially the old plasterwork and what I regard as my brothers warped use of color.

Using the bathroom she finds that her period's arrived. She's not particularly pleased to see it but nonetheless she's prepared in that amazing way women always are.