Shadows of the Heart - Chapter 2 by Lord'Williams Lord'Williams

Chapter 2


Yvonne lay in her bath, surrounded in bubbles, speaking on her cell phone long distance. She lifted a leg and ran her fingers along its contour. She looked at the smooth dark-skinned leg, admired it, and gave silent praises to it. Yes, it was just one of her many assets, one of several twins of beauty. She continued to stare, barely listening to the voice on the other end, but she stayed on cue, “I know girl. You know, I know.” She lowered the leg back into the steam, beneath the bubbles, into the hot water, which suited her comfort. “I love it here in the Bahamas.” She paused to listen to her number one girl for the last twelve years, Vanessa. Their friendship began while they were classmates in the academy for New York City’s Correction Department. They even served together in the same house—Rose M. Singer on Riker’s Island. Vanessa had always been there to keep Yvonne grounded. She lived through many of the “William sagas,” so much so that it made her head ring with every new episode. “Girl, I gave up so much stuff. I wouldn’t have given William this much for a whole year . . . What? . . . Where? Where haven’t we done it? On the beach, in the bay, under a waterfall, girl, my thang is tired . . . Yeah, but I needed to get away. I had to see if this is what I really want. Robert has been so wonderful to me.”

“Are you leaving William, or what?” Vanessa asked.

“I don’t know. William said he would fight for the kids. He said he would never let them go.” Yvonne replied.

“Eve, do you still love Will?”

“Yeah, I still love him. It’s not the love; it’s just all of the bullshit. I can’t compete with his life, his love, his sex—” Yvonne answered.

“Compete! ….Yvonne, why would you want to compete with your husband?”

“Not compete. I don’t know. I’ve been through so much with him. I can’t trust him. Whenever he’s out, I’m wondering if he’s fuckin some bitch. Will I find another pair of dirty, smelly, funky lookin’ pair of panties in another sport jacket pocket? All the phone numbers he has, all the phone calls he receives. It drives me crazy. I can’t.” Her right foot vibrated vigorously, causing ripples in the water. “I just can’t do it anymore. I’m not beating bitches down, no more. I’m not fighting for him anymore. It was always me out there actin’ a fool, damn near losing my job chasing behind his ass. Not once, not once have he ever fought over me. He’s a punk. Robert called him out. Robert told him no badge, no gun, no department, just them two; and he just walked away. No, Vee, no. Staying out for days at a time, not calling home, not telling me where he’s been. It’s too much for too long. It’s my turn. If he was a real man, he would fight for me. He would be here. He would make me feel like the queen that I am. Like I’m the only woman on this earth. Instead, I try to measure up to him, to understand him. He’s too much for me. Hell, I can’t even fuck him right. I don’t please him. The motherfucker. I don’t want to talk about him no more. Switch gears, or hang up.” Yvonne pouted.

“You guys have been together for twenty-five years. There should be a lot of history, which is good and bad. And far as it goes for Mr. Asshole calling someone out, William showed a lot of character. Your man doesn’t have to do the Neanderthal thing to prove shit to anyone. You’re just tripping, girl. You drive a new sport Lexus, with all the latest gadgets, all paid for; and your money is your own, girl, humph. You have a beautiful big remodeled home, with boo-go land and a giant pool. Living like rich white folks, and here you are chasing after a dick that got caught in your web. Humph. You trippin’, Alice, and you’re stuck in Wonderland. You better wake the fuck up, get off the soapbox, and stop playing yourself.”

“If he’s that wonderful, why don’t you take him?”

“Eve, I’m trying to find one just like him. I need one of those. He can fuck every bitch in Cali for all I care. Shit just take care of me—and mine—and don’t bring me home no diseases. Look, I’ll talk to you later. I gotta go. We’ll talk when you get back.”

“I won’t be looking for you.” She pressed a button and ended the call. She placed the phone onto the floor, feeling betrayed. As she lifted her hand off the phone, it rang. She picked the phone up and peeked at the caller information. She read Vanessa Steward on the screen. She pressed the power button, and the unit shut off. Tears rushed from their ducts. How could Vanessa say she was tripping? This wasn’t a thousand years ago where a woman had no choice but to live through their husband’s bullshit: She doesn’t know all the BS I’ve gone through with this bastard. He got everyone fooled—my family, his family, and now even my best friend. How the fuck can she say such a thing? Well, she was my best friend. I know she doesn’t really care for Robert much, but still she should be happy for me being happy. I’m happy, damn. And even my sister’s gonna tell me dump Robert and grow up. I didn’t say that shit to her when she was messing around with Curtis. What the fuck was her man doing for her at the time? Not a damn thing. Fuck ’em all, ’cause I ain’t trippin’.

She placed the warm bath cloth behind her neck to ease the tension that was building from the thoughts of family and friends’ opinions toward her affairs; she sighed because not one of them rode her emotional roller coasters when William’s shit was stinking, like the one time a number of years back:


≈≈≈≈≈≈≈


William’s pager sounded as it lay on his night table. Yvonne stepped out from the bathroom into the bedroom and stared at it crimping its alert signal. He must have forgotten it; he never left the house without it, not even when he made a quick run to the store. His pager and cell phone always made the run with him. But not this time; oh, he was in a hurry this night, so much so that he messed up. Yvonne walked up to the noise box. She watched it, and wrestled with the thought to view the returned number. Besides, it could be important, it would have to be someone from the job with an emergency; it was the job’s pager. William was in charge of the entire transportation department—maybe someone broke down, or worse, gotten into an accident—so she convinced herself she was obligated to view the number and return the call, you know, to take a message or something.

Each number she dialed, she knew a woman would answer on the other end, and if so, then she would play stupid and pretend she called the wrong number by mistake. The phone rang, a woman answered.

“Hey,” the woman said in a voice that was soft, low, and sexy as hell.

“Hey my ass, and when he gets there tell him the game is over, bitch,” replied Yvonne.

“Excuse me?”

“What about this you ain’t getting? Get a quick piece ’cause it’s your last, and send him home to face the music.” Yvonne paced.

“I think you have the wrong number, or something, your man ain’t here. But I do suggest you get a leash and some skills if you want to keep him home.”

“Bitch, I’ll fuck you up!” Yvonne screamed.

“No, bitch, you better fuck your man up, all right? ’Cause this way he won’t be sniffing around every other woman’s crotch.”

“Yeah, talk that shit over the phone,” said Yvonne.

“What! You wanna step to this, bitch?”

“Yeah, where you at, ain’t no fear in my heart, bitch. I got some skills for that ass, aright,” Yvonne declared.

“You wanna know where I’m at? You better ask somebody.”

“Yeah well, so just for you to know, when you go down on him tonight keep this in mind, I just got off of it, you nasty, tricky ass hoe.”

Yvonne slammed the phone down on its base. “Bitch!” She turned and threw the pager against the wall. “I’m gonna kick his fuckin’ ass. No more, no more, no more. I ain’t takin’ this shit no more.” The phone rang.


≈≈≈≈≈≈≈


She sighed deeply and tried to focus on the last few days, sorting through the highlights with Robert. She wanted to validate her declaration of happiness. She could only focus on the sex; it was wild and uninhibited. She hasn’t been sleeping well the last few days. Unlike when she was with William, where she would place her feet on his thighs, Robert disliked the entanglement. She’d envisioned William rubbing her tired feet, patting her bottom, and sending her off to sleepy land. She would wait for William to get in bed, where she could assume her usual position, her butt pressed against his extremely warm body; she just hated for her butt to be cold.

Yeah, William was sweet like that. He would draw her bath when she dragged herself through the door, prepared her dinner, fluffed her pillows, and sprayed down her side of the bed with her favorite perfume, Trésor. But he stopped pampering her about a year ago. That was when the arguing started all over again. They’d moved into their new home and filled the place with love. Three years ago, William felt she wasn’t being faithful, and at first, he ignored the itch. But after she found the panties in his sport jacket, she grew cold, and he became slightly insecure. She just couldn’t trust him; he would always do something stupid to violate that trust. She figured he must have screwed her in the house, downstairs, somewhere. She figured the woman was one of those nasty, treacherous bitches. One that had the nerve to leave her calling card to let the wife know just what took place under her nose. Well, fuck her, and fuck him too. She wasn’t going to sit around and cry over him anymore. Robert had been more than deserving of her love. If William wasn’t so damn evil, she would have been packed her bags, but she knew he would give her pure hell and not a moment peace. He told her many times that even if he died, he would visit her often and scare the shit out of all her lovers whenever she tried to get a piece. Now if that wasn’t evil, what was?

William didn’t have anyone fooled. Everyone who knew him knew he had a nasty side ’cause he was so damn sweet and kind and, to add, he looked mean. William would go out of his way to help and please everyone. Which was one of the many things that pissed her off. He would be so damn nice it made her look like the evil one when she put her foot down; she couldn’t compete with his kindness. She would come home so drained it took days for her to reenergize, and making love to him was a chore. He wanted it in different positions, lots of foreplay, and for as long as possible, but twenty minutes to a half hour was all she could muster. She felt she wasn’t pleasing him and he was faking his satisfaction. She felt she couldn’t compete with his freaky behind, because she was a simple and an easy-to-please type of woman. A little went a long way, and the standard missionary position couldn’t be more perfect, unless she wanted topside. She sank deeper into the oversized tub and closed her eyes. The door opened, and a yellow-skinned well-built man walked in. He stood about five foot nine and was wide—her black Arnold Schwarzenegger, as she so often referred to him. Even in his long white robe, one could tell he had the body of life. What one couldn’t see was he had an ego to match. An ego that never backed down, never stepped off, never let anything go unchecked. His body made men fear him, and his strength crashed those that should have. He didn’t know fear and didn’t know how to dismiss a challenge. His timing was on cue; she was going to prove to those nonbelievers she wasn’t trippin’.

“Are you all right in here? You’ve been away for so long,” he said in a semi-deep voice as he stood inside just beyond the doorway.

She looked up at him, his bold figure pushed aside the images of William; and she became momentarily numb. She wiped her face with her bath cloth and raised herself to stand. “Sure. Come here baby.” He complied. He stood before her, She climbed up his robe to kiss him while untying the belt as she rouse to his face. The belt fell to the floor. She kissed his neck and nibbled on his bottom lip. Then she licked her way over to his left earlobe, she suckled, she licked inside, and blew her hot air softly. His breathing picked up immensely when licked and sucked on his nipples, as she massaged his manhood. He rubbed and massaged her shoulders when she kneeled to please him. She watched his member’s reactions as her tongue circled its head. She loved making it hard; she got a kick watching, feeling it inflate within her mouth. He was feeling it; he began to moan as her tongue danced up and down upon him. He was breathing heavier as she deeply swallowed him. She felt the blood flowing to her diamond, her juices warming her insides; and he watched her magic act with his penis of now you see it, now you don’t. He cried out loudly; she took him in deeper, and deeper, and in her deepest. A depth she never considered with William. Actually, she never went down on William unless she was nearing the point of her own orgasm. But here with this man, she drew on him, out of her sheer willfulness to please him. She wasn’t herself, and she knew she wasn’t herself. She was free. Free of William, free of his spell. She had a will of her own, a soul that chose to be different. Free to explore, a soul that was free to be other than itself. A soul, which scared her for it was uncontrollable, fearless, and sinful. She didn’t know if it was the man before her, or an inner being exercising her right to exist. Yet right there, for that minute, she welcomed her for the change, if nothing else.