Love Lives On/Tranquil #writephoto

Photo by Sue Vincent

I stood there in the secluded spot and tranquil place where we used to meet.  It was our secret place where we could love each other freely.  Back there it was against the law for a white man and a black woman to have relations.  Race mixing as they called it was banned.  The punishment for interracial marriage to be a year in jail and the white person was fined $100 fine.  The person who officiated an interracial wedding was fined $200.  How I hated those laws.  They were passed by ignorant and racist people who couldn’t accept that people of different races could fall in love with each other.

My parents were just as intolerant.  They believed that people should stick to their own kind–you know, to keep the races pure.  They even used the Bible to validate their racist views.  I read the Bible myself and nowhere did it prohibit interracial love.  In fact, there were examples of mixed marriages.  I hated going to a school where blacks weren’t allowed and even church which was to be the temple of the God who created all races, blacks weren’t allowed to worship with us.  I hated living in a state that was so intolerant.  I promised myself that I would leave it as soon as I was old enough.

My parents made sure that I went to the best schools and associated only with those whom they deemed to be socially acceptable–the filthy rich.  They even had it in their heads that one day I would marry Governor Brown’s daughter, Virginia (I can’t believe her parents named her after the state).  Granted, she was a nice girl, very pretty and I could tell that she liked me very much.  We went on dates and such and then, I went away to university.  It was an understanding that we were going steady and that in due time, I would propose.

When I returned from university one summer vacation, my mother told me that we had a new maid, Flora.  The previous one, Berta had been fired.  My parents never told me what happened but I was sore because I really liked Berta.  Well, when I met Flora, I quickly forgot about Berta.  She was much younger than Berta but about ten years older than me.  Flora wasn’t pretty like Virginia but she was very attractive.  She had big brown eyes that didn’t seem to miss a thing, smooth dark skin and a lovely voice.  Sometimes she would sing as she worked.

Once I asked her why didn’t she become a professional singer.  She scoffed and said, “The only thing white folks want colored people like me to do is cook, clean, do the laundry and keep my place.”

Flora had a room built at the back of the house where she would change into her uniform and use the bathroom.  She had special plates and forks to use for her meals.  She was paid $10 a week which in that time was considered good money.

Flora was a bit cynical and who could blame her?  Although she is well paid, she is treated with disrespect and condescension by my parents, relatives and family friends.  There are times when I sit at the dining table and seethe with rage.  The final straw came when Flora accidentally spilled a glass of wine and some of it got on Mrs. Miller, an insufferable and vain woman.  She rose to her feet and struck Flora hard across the face.  “You clumsy n—–,” she cried.  “You’ve ruined my dress.  It’s too bad you can’t be whipped for this.”

My mother didn’t bat an eye.  I couldn’t believe that she wasn’t livid that one of her guests had slapped Flora.  I guess I was foolish to expect her to say something in Flora’s defense.  Instead, she said to her crossly, “Clean that mess up.”

Flora quickly left the room and was back in a seconds to clean the spill.  I wanted to go after her but propriety made me stay put.  I promised myself that I would speak to her before she left this evening.”

“You should fire her, Rosemary,” Mrs. Miller said as she resumed her seat.

“It was an accident!” I said as calmly as I could although, what I really wanted to do was throw the rest of the wine in her sanctimonious face.

“You mind your manners, Boy,” my father scolded.

“You’re excused,” was my mother’s rejoinder.

“Excuse me,” I said as I rose to my feet.  I was happy to leave the table.

I headed straight for the kitchen where Flora was busy washing up the dishes.   I wanted to help but I knew that she wouldn’t let me.  Besides, it would get her into trouble.  I went and stood beside her.  I could see that she had been crying.  I wanted to hug her.  “I’m sorry about what happened just now, Flora,” I said quietly.  “Mrs. Miller had no right to hit you.  You’re a grown woman, not a child.”

“You heard what she called me.  That gives her the right to hit me.”

“Flora, sometimes, I wish I could take you away from all of this.”

“You shouldn’t be saying such things, Master Oliver.”

“But, it’s true, Flora.”

“And where would we go?”

“I don’t know yet but some place where you’re treated better.”

“Right now I can’t think of any place like that except Heaven.”

“Flora, after I graduate from university, I’m going to leave Richmond.  I want you to come with me.”

“Master Oliver, stop talking foolish.”

“Stop calling me Master Oliver,” I retorted.  “I’m just plain Oliver and I’m not talking foolish.  I’m very serious, Flora.”

“I’ll think about it now, go before your mother comes in here and finds us together.”

“All right. I’ll go.  Goodnight, Flora.”

“Goodnight, Mas–Oliver.”

The next morning, she was gone.  My mother had taken Mrs. Miller advice and fired Flora.  I was so upset that I didn’t speak to my mother for weeks.  I found out where Flora lived and the first opportunity, I had, I went to see her.  She was alone.  After I letting her know how upset and furious I was that she had lost her job, I made her promise to meet me that afternoon at the pond where no one ever goes.

I got there first and waited.  As I waited, I picked a bunch of wildflowers I saw there.  Flora would like them.  I bet she never got flowers from anyone before.  I would be the first.  I smiled at the thought.  She showed up five minutes later.  I gave her the flowers and she took them, smiling.  She smelled them.  “Thank you,” she said.  She reached up and kissed me on the cheek.

I felt my face get hot.  I also felt strange sensations in my body.  “You’re welcome, Flora,” I said.

We sat down on the grass and talked and talked.  I loved being with her and I could tell she felt the same way.  We promised to meet there again tomorrow.  She left first and then I left several minutes after.  When I went home, my mother told me that Virginia and her parents were having dinner with us that evening.  It would be the first time I would be seeing Virginia since I’ve been home for the summer.  I was more excited about seeing Flora tomorrow than seeing Virginia that evening.

The evening went well, I suppose.  Virginia didn’t seem to notice that I was preoccupied with my thoughts.  She talked mostly about herself and what she had been up to while I was away at university.  I didn’t make any plans to see her again.  After we parted company, I went up to my room where I remained until the following morning.  As soon as the afternoon came, I was racing down to the pond.  This time Flora was waiting for me.  And she brought two huge slices of an apple pie she had baked.  After we ate them, we went for a swim.

Afterwards, we lay in the sun.  We talked about different things and then, I rolled onto my side and looked down at her.  She had her eyes closed.  The strange sensations stir inside me again and this time, I lowered my head and kissed her.  She didn’t push me away or slap me in the face.  Instead, she reached up and put her arms around my neck.  We ended up making love for the first time.

Day after day we met there in our secluded spot until one day we were discovered by Virginia’s brother and his friends.  I was promptly sent back to Atlanta where I spent the rest of the summer until it was time to return to university.  I don’t know what happened to Flora.  No one would tell me anything.  I was devastated because I was madly in love with her.  I wanted to marry her.

When I returned to Virginia, I went to her house.  At that point I didn’t care what people said or did or thought.  All I wanted was to see Flora.  However, when I went to her house, the neighbors said that she was gone.  They had no idea where she had gone.

Dejected, I returned to Atlanta where I tried to forget about her.  I even got married to a nice girl named Amy and we had a boy.  Time passed but the memories of my summer with Flora never faded.  I still yearned to see her.  I still loved her and no amount of time would make me forget about her.

After Amy died, I tried to see if I could find out any information about Flora.  I wish I had a photo of her that I could have put on Facebook but I didn’t.  In spite of these setbacks and disappointments, I haven’t stopped hoping that one day I will see her again.

It’s 2018 and summer again here in Richmond.  I’m here by the pond, allowing myself to relive the happiest memories of my entire life.  I look at the wild flowers and smile.  I will never forget the spark in Flora’s beautiful eyes when I gave them to her.  If she were here now, I would give her another bunch.

“Mr. Jones?” a voice called out and startled, I turned.

It was a young African American girl.  “Yes,” I replied.  “I’m Mr. Jones.  Who are you?”

She came closer.  “I’m Regina.  I was told that I might find you here.  Someone asked me to give this to you.”  She held out a letter sized brown envelope.”

I took it.  It didn’t have any address.  It only had my name written neatly at the front.  “Who asked you to give this to me?”

“My grandmother, Flora.”

My heart caught in my throat.  Flora.  I sat down on the tuft of grass and eagerly opened the envelope.  I pulled out a letter and some photos.  I looked at the photos first.  They were of Flora and a lovely little girl.  She looked so much like Flora but much fairer in complexion.

With trembling fingers, I unfolded the letter and read it.  Halfway through, I started to cry.  Flora was pregnant when she left Richmond.  She wanted me to know about Olivia and wrote to me at the university several times but all of her letters were returned.  She never got married, she said because there was only one man whose wife she wanted to be.

I looked up at Regina who was standing beside me.  “Where’s Flora?” I asked.  I longed to see her.

“I’m sorry, grandfather, but she died this morning.”

I broke down at that point.  Regina dropped to her knees and put her arms around me.  The only thing that gave me any comfort was the knowledge that Flora and I have a daughter and a granddaughter.  Our love will live on through them and generations to come.

Those we love are never really lost to us–for everywhere their special love lives on – Amanda Bradley

This was written for the #writephoto Prompt – Tranquil at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

 

Sources: The Washington Post; The Post and Courier

 

 

 

 

Room Mates

Rohan lay in bed, wide awake.  He couldn’t sleep.  He glanced at the clock on the bedside table.  It was fifteen minutes past midnight.  Latisha still hadn’t come home.  She was out on a date with some guy she met through a co-worker.  She had been gone since seven.  Was she having a good time?  Did she like the guy?  Would she go out with him again?  All of these questions ran through his mind, arousing jealousy.

He should have taken his friend, Barry’s advice and not share a flat with a woman he was attracted to.  “It’s a good thing you’re not in a relationship right now,” Barry said.  “No woman would approve of her man living with a woman who looked like Latisha.  Hell, if I weren’t already in a relationship, I would go for her myself.”  When he saw the expression on Rohan’s face, he laughed and said, “Take it easy, Man.  I was just joking.”

It was no use lying there.  He threw off the covers and got up.  He went over to the window and looked out.  The moonlight streaming into the room cast a silvery glow on his naked body.  He threw open the window to allow the cool night air to come in.  Where was she?  Was she on her way home?

Just then, he heard the door and straightening away from the window, he went over to the chest of drawers to take out a pajama pants.  He pulled it on.  He didn’t bother to put on the shirt.  Closing the drawer, he listened to make sure that she was alone.  The last thing he needed was for her to bring her date back to the apartment.  Satisfied that she was alone, he opened his door just as she was heading toward her room.  She stopped, surprised to see him.  “I thought you were asleep,” she said.  “I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

His eyes traveled over her in the black halter dress which was snug against her body.  He glanced away quickly when he felt his face get hot.  “No, I was awake,” he mumbled before he walked past her.  He went into the kitchen to get a glass of water.  He didn’t really need it but it helped to cool him down.  He leaned against the counter, trying not to think about her in the darn dress and the way she was looking at his bare torso.

He was relieved that she was finally home but he couldn’t help wondering how the date went.  Curiosity got the better of him and he gulped down the rest of the water, rinsed the glass and placed it in the drainer before he headed to her room.  The door was slightly ajar and without thinking, he pushed it open and went inside.  He stopped in his tracks when he saw her standing there, topless, her nightgown in her hands.  Desire swept through him like an inferno.  Muttering under his breath, he quickly left the room, closing the door behind him.

In his room, he sank down heavily on the bed, his heart pounding.  His body was on fire.  He ran trembling fingers through his hair as he tried to steady his breathing.  He jumped when he heard a knock on his door.

“Rohan, may I come in?”

He wanted to say no but heard himself say, “Yes.”

The door opened and she went inside.  She was wearing her nightgown.  “Are you ok?” she asked.

He nodded.  “I’m fine,” he lied.  “I’m sorry that I came into your room without knocking.  It won’t happen again.”

She brushed aside his apology.  “No harm done,” she said.  He stiffened when she sat down beside him.  He could smell her perfume.  He could feel her eyes on him but he kept his head straight, staring at the clock.

“How was your date?” he asked after a moment of silence.

“It was fine,” she replied.

“Where did you go?”

“We went for dinner at the new Greek restaurant downtown and then dancing afterwards.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“Well, it depends.”

He looked at her then.  “Depends on what?” he demanded.

“It depends on you.”

He stared at her.  “What do you mean?”

“Do you want me to see him again?”

“What does it matter what I want?”

“It matters to me.  Now please answer my question.  Do you want me to see him again?”

He got up from the bed, agitated.  “No, I don’t want you to see him again.”

She looked up at him.  “Why not?”

“You know why not.”

“I want you to tell me.”

“I don’t want you to see him again because I’m crazy about you.  Are you satisfied now?”

She stood up, smiling and said, “Yes, I am. ”  She moved closer to him.  “I wasn’t going to see him again, anyway.  And do you want to know why?”

He nodded, his heart pounding and his breath quickening.  They were standing inches apart.

“I’m crazy about you too.  All that time I was with him, I thought about you.  I wanted to be here at home with you instead of being on a date.  The trouble was I wasn’t sure about how you felt about me until a few minutes ago.  I saw the way you looked at me when you came into my room and you must have noticed the way I was looking at you.  And now, here we are in your room with the moonlight coming in.  It can’t get more romantic than this.”

“No, it can’t,” he agreed thickly before he reached out and pulled her against him, making her catch her breath.  He held her tightly against him as he kissed her feverishly, groaning as he felt her eager response.  That night, they became a couple.

 

Source:  Huffington Post

The Letters

Her eyes went straight to the desk where she expected to see it and there it was.  Heart thudding, she walked into the classroom and picking it up, she examined it.  It was the same long, plain white envelope with her name written neatly on the front.  She got one every Thursday since the beginning of the semester and found herself looking forward to receiving them.  They were beautiful, heartfelt and honest outpouring of his feelings and she longed to find out who was writing them.

The mystery person was obviously a student who attended her Tuesday and Thursday classes.  She taught on Mondays and Wednesdays as well and had Fridays off.  He got there early so that no one would see him leave the envelope on her desk.  Perhaps this letter will give her more clues.  She put the envelope in her handbag, promising herself to read it as soon as she got a chance.

As she got ready for the class to begin, her gaze swept over the faces of the young men in the room while in her mind she asked the question, Is it you?  She knew which one of them she wanted her mystery man to be.  Her eyes shifted to him and caught him watching her.  He blinked and blushed before he looked away. Clive Bennington.  He sat in the front row.

The first time he walked into the classroom, she noticed him.  In all of her years of teaching never once did she ever notice a student until that moment.  He was tall and athletic.  Well dressed, he had the word preppy written all over him.  The combination of sensuality and studiousness added to his appeal.  It wasn’t long before she became strongly attracted to him.

She was careful to hide her feelings because if she were suspected of having a romantic interest in a student, her job could be in jeopardy.  Outside of the university and in her private time, she permitted herself to daydream about him and when she started getting the letters, she wished that they were from him.  She kept them in her bureau and read them every night before she went to bed.

Presently, she schooled herself to concentrate on teaching and the time went by very quickly.  As usual, he was the last to leave and as he was packing up, she went over him.  “I enjoyed your paper,” she said.  “You’re an excellent writer.  You have a remarkable way of expressing yourself.  Your writing is down to earth and engaging.  You should think of publishing some of your work.”  As she spoke to him about his writing, it dawned on her, not for the first time how much it reminded her of the penmanship of the letters.  It had to be him.

He looked shyly at her, his face a little flushed.  “Thank you, Professor Williams.”

She wanted to reach up and brush the lock of hair back from his forehead.  “You’re welcome, Clive.”  Would it be wrong for her to ask him to go with her for a cappuccino?  She decided that it probably wouldn’t be a good idea.  Walking back to the desk, she gathered the papers together and put them in her folder.  “Good night, Clive.”

“Good night, Professor Williams.”  He grabbed his bag and after glancing at her, he walked out of the classroom.

After he was gone, she finished packing up and left.   Thirty minutes later she let herself into her flat.  Not bothering to fix something to eat, she took the letter from her handbag and headed straight over to the sofa, her heart beating fast with excitement.   Her hands trembled as she unfolded the sheets of paper.  Leaning against the soft cushions, she began to read.

Dear Rose,

This is the first time I have addressed you by your first name.  I hope you don’t mind.  Whenever I see a rose, I think about you.  To me you’re more beautiful.  I will always remember the first time I saw you.  It was during my second year at Oxford.  I was sitting outside with Samantha, my girlfriend, enjoying the weather when you walked by.  My heart stopped and I couldn’t stop staring at you.  You took my breath away.  I sat there, bewildered because I really believed that I loved Samantha and always thought she was the girl for me.  And yet, when I looked at you, it seemed as if time stood still and nothing and no one else existed.  In that instance, I felt like Romeo when he was at the ball.  First he couldn’t take his eyes off Rosaline but when Juliet appeared, Rosaline faded into obscurity.  All Romeo saw was the lovely maiden who had captured his attention and his heart.  For me you were Juliet and Samantha was Rosaline.

You didn’t notice me that day because you were talking to a student, giving her your undivided attention.  I found myself wishing I were that student but I knew that if you talked to me I would be tongue-tied and probably make a fool of myself.  I wanted to know your name, which course you taught so that I could be one of your students.  I watched as the girl walked away and then another student call out to you, “Professor Williams.” And you turned and smiled as he ran over to you.  I knew your last name. Behind me I heard Samantha say, “Clive, I have to be getting to class now.  I’ll see you later.”  She reached over and kissed me on the cheek before leaving me.  I sat there, watching you talk to the student and I made up my mind that I was going to find out more about you from him.  It felt as if I were sitting there for hours and then you left.  As soon as you were gone, I went over to the student and asked him, “I’ve never seen that professor before, is she new?”

He shook his head.  “No, that’s Professor Williams.  She’s been at Oxford for about ten years now.”

“What does she teach?”

“English Language and Literature.  She teaches 4^th year students like me.”

“Is she a good teacher?”

“The best.  Make sure that when you do your enrollment for your last year, that you sign up for her class. Before I took her class, I wasn’t keen on writing but now I find that I like it very much.” After I thanked him for his time, I went to my class but I was hardly paying attention to a word Professor Ayers was saying.  All I could think about was you and how much I wanted to see you again.  I discovered that you were a creature of habit.  Every day, at a certain time of the day, you went to the library to read.  I made sure I was there when you were.  You didn’t notice me as I sat there with my books open on the table watching you and wishing that I had the courage to walk over there and introduce myself to you. 

For two years, I have watched and admired you from afar.  I am ashamed to say that I broke up with Samantha but didn’t admit the real reason.  I simply told her that I didn’t love her the way she wanted me to.  She was heartbroken.  I felt like a heel, especially when she transferred to another university. I never meant to hurt her but I couldn’t help that I had fallen in love with you.  Many nights I lay awake whispering the words, I love you.  I sit in your class, longing for the day when I could say it to your face.  Yes, I took the student’s advice and signed up for your class and I am so happy that I did.  The first day I walked into your class and you smiled at me, I was on cloud nine.  When you first spoke to me, I couldn’t think straight.  I was so nervous and I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to hide my feelings.  Sometimes I noticed the way you looked at me and that encouraged me.  I started to believe that you were attracted to me too and that made my heart dance with joy.

I graduate in three weeks and I have mixed feelings.  I’m happy to be moving on to bigger things but at the same time, I will miss being in your class.  It has been the highlight of my whole university experience.  I look forward to seeing you every week and can’t wait for the weekends to end.  I am hoping that you will want to stay in touch with me.  I will even dare to say that I hope that you would be open to the idea of going out with me.  Nothing would make me happier than to be in a relationship with you.  My family will not approve for obvious reasons but when you’re in love, it doesn’t matter what others say or think.  On Tuesday, I will stay after class and ask you to go to the café with me.  I hope that you will say yes.

This is my last letter but before I close, I wanted to say that when I first saw you, I never imagined that I would fall so hard.  I dream about you, think about you and long to be with you every day.  My heart pounds when I see you and I get butterflies in my stomach when someone mentions your name.  Even if you don’t end up falling in love with me, I want you to know that I love you now and I will love you for the rest of my life.

Clive

Rose didn’t realize that she was crying until a teardrop fell on the page.   Finally, she knew who the mystery man was.  It was Clive.  This was the only letter he signed his name to.  In all the other letters, he simply wrote Anonymous.  This letter was by far the most precious one and after reading it a second time, she clutched it to her heart.  Clive loves me.  He wants to be in a relationship with me.  On Tuesday, I will let him know how I feel.

Tuesday came and all through class she thought of nothing else but going out with him.  As soon as they were alone, Clive went over to her as she was gathering the papers together and putting them in her briefcase.  She paused and looked up at him.  He looked so shy and unsure of himself that her heart melted.  Reaching for his hand, she said, “It’s a beautiful afternoon.  Let’s walk to the café.”

His heart was racing and he couldn’t think straight because she was holding his hand.  “Thank you,” was all he could manage to say and she smiled.

She finished packing up and then preceded him to the door.  They walked to the café and sat at a table in the corner.  They chatted for a while about different things including what his plans were after he graduated.   “I’m going to miss your letters,” she told him.  “I loved reading them.  I read them every night.”

“Really?” he asked, looking thrilled.  “I’m relieved to hear that.  I was afraid that I was being too forward but I couldn’t keep my feelings bottled up inside.”

“You were right about me,” she admitted.  “I was attracted to you the first time I saw you but I tried not to show it.  There were times when I couldn’t help looking at you.  I had to be careful that no one else noticed.  When I started getting the letters, I hoped that they were from you.”

“Does this mean that you will go out with me?” he asked, looking anxious.

She nodded.  “Yes, but we have to keep it on the quiet until you graduate.”

“All right,” he agreed, holding her hand, relishing the feel of it in his.  “We’ll do whatever you think is best just as long as we are together.”

“Are you free tomorrow evening?” she asked, unable to think with him caressing her hand.

“Yes,” he said. “I am.”  Even if he had another engagement, he would cancel it for her.

“How would you like to have dinner at my place?”

“I’d like that very much, Rose.”

“Come at six-thirty.   Let me give you my address.”  She had to extricate her hand from his in order to write down the information.

He took the folded piece of paper and put it in his wallet.  “I’m looking forward to dinner,” he told her.

“I’m afraid I have to leave now,” she said, sounding regretful.  “I have to attend my niece’s recital this evening.”  She finished her cappuccino and paid for both.

He was disappointed that they weren’t going to stay longer but at least he was going to see her tomorrow.  He stood up when she did and they left the café.  They walked back to the parking lot of the university.  When they beside her car, he wanted to kiss her but thought better of it.  Someone might see them.  “See you tomorrow,” he said.

“See you tomorrow,” she replied, smiling up at him.  She got into her car and waved before she drove off.

He watched until her car disappeared from view before walking to his.  He couldn’t sleep that night.  All day in school, he thought about Rose and when it was time to go home, he scooted out of there.  Promptly at six-thirty he was outside of her flat.  She opened the door, smiling when she saw him.  “Good evening, Clive. Come in.”

“Good evening, Rose.”  He went in and turned quickly so that she couldn’t see what he was holding behind his back.  After she closed and locked the door, he produced a bouquet of orange roses.  “Roses for a Rose,” he said huskily.

“They are gorgeous,” she exclaimed.  She took them and put them on the table nearby.  “Thank you, Clive.”

Touched, she reached up and kissed him.  When she would have pulled back, his arms went around her waist and his eyes met hers in a passionate gaze before they dropped to her lips.  They darkened with desire when them part and then he was kissing her, feverishly, wildly.  All the pent up emotions came gushing out and she matched his kisses with the same intensity, her arms going around his neck as he pressed her against him.

Several minutes went by as they exchanged hungry kisses and then he released her to remove his jacket while still kissing her.  She moved her arms from around his neck to help him to pull the dress tee shirt off.  Then, she was backing him over to the hearth where a rug was spread.  They were lying on the rug, his hands were holding her face between his hands as he plundered her lips.  “I love you, Rose” he muttered thickly when she drew back to look at him and to catch her breath.  “Let me show you how much.” And then she was lying on her back, staring up into his flushed face.

“I love you too, Clive,” she whispered before she reached up and pulled his head down to hers.

They ended up having a late dinner and that night marked the beginning of a relationship which led to marriage.

 

 

 

 

The Last Session

He glanced at his watch.  She was late.  Sighing, he got up from the chair and walked over to the window where he stood gazing out at the street below.  Where was she?  She was supposed to be there ten minutes ago.  Was she with him again?  The last time she was late, she had run into Devon who persuaded her to have a coffee with him and she didn’t show up here until almost half-hour later, apologizing profusely.  Fortunately for her, he didn’t have any other appointments for the afternoon so he was able to see her but he had advised her not to be late again.  And now, she was late again and most likely, Devon was the reason.

He closed his eyes as jealousy ripped through him.  Dragging his fingers through his hair, he made up his mind that he couldn’t continue seeing her.  Today they would have their last session and then he would refer her to a colleague.

It was his sister who had referred her to him and when she walked into his office, he should have realized that he was heading straight toward the slippery slope.  He tried to remain detached and professional as he listened to her talk about her relationship troubles with Devon, a young man she had been dating since high-school but as the weeks went by, he found himself wishing that she would do them both a favor and end her relationship with Devon.  She deserved better.  She was beautiful, smart and had so much going for her.  She didn’t need to be in this dead-end relationship with a man who clearly didn’t appreciate her.  She had so much love to give but she was giving it to the wrong person and that drove him crazy.  Whenever he thought of Devon, anger and jealousy consumed him.  He doesn’t know how lucky he is.  If I had an incredible woman like Ramona, I would treat her like a queen.

He turned when he heard the door open and his heart leapt when he saw her standing there.  She came over to where he was.  “You’re late,” he said unnecessarily.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said, looking anxiously at him as she quickly removed her leather jacket.

He couldn’t prevent his gaze from traveling over her.  She was wearing a black turtleneck sweater, a knee length red skirt with knee high black boots.  Her hair fell in thick waves of curls about her face and shoulders and for one maddening moment, he wanted to bury his face in them.  Abruptly, he walked over to the chair where he remained standing until she sat down on the sofa.  “We only have twenty-five minutes for the session so we’d better get started.”

She sat with her hands in her lap.  “Twenty-five minutes isn’t much time,” she said.

“You were supposed to be here thirty-five minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Let’s not waste any more time with apologies and talk about why you’re here today.”

“I saw Devon at the café yesterday afternoon and—”

“Did you arrange to meet him there?”

“No, I went to get a cappuccino and he was there.”

“Did you leave the café after you bought the cappuccino?”

“I was about to when he came over to me.”

“What did he want?”

“He just wanted to say hello.”

“And after he said hello, did you leave?”

She shook her head, beginning to look uncomfortable now.  “Well, we left the café together.”

“Where did you go?”

“We walked back to my flat.”

“What happened when you got there?”

“He wanted to come upstairs but I told him that it wasn’t a good time.”

He tried to remain calm and pragmatic.  “So, the only reason he didn’t go up to your flat is that it wasn’t a good time.  The last time we spoke, you indicated that you wanted to end your relationship with him but it seems to me that you had an opportunity to do so yesterday but you didn’t take it.  It is obvious that you still have feelings for him and don’t want to make a clean break.”  He glanced at his watch.  “Your time is up.”

She looked upset.  “Already?”

“I’m afraid so.  Before you leave, I have something to tell you.”

“Yes?”

“This is our last session.  I will arrange for you to see my colleague, Mike Harris.”

She looked at him as if he had just given her devastating news.  “But why?” she asked.  “I’ve gotten so used to talking to you and you know so much about me.  Why do you want me to see someone else?”

“I don’t think I can help you.  You need someone who would be more objective.”

She got up from the sofa and went over to him.  “Jackson, please, I need to continue seeing you.  I promise I won’t be late again.”

He felt himself weakening when he stared up into those beautiful brown eyes and he wanted to reach up and pull her head down to his…Muttering under his breath, he sprang to his feet and went to stand behind the desk, putting as much distance between them as possible.  “I’m sorry, Ramona, but I think you would be better off seeing another therapist.  I will have the office get in touch with you.”

She stared at him for a long moment and then, stifling a sob, she grabbed her jacket and handbag and bolted from the room.  He stood there, trembling as he fought the temptation to go after her.  He believed he had done the right thing–the sensible thing yet why did he feel rotten?  He had to take a few moments to collect himself before he was able to see his next client.

He was packing up to leave when the door opened and his sister walked in, her expression a mixture of censure and concern.  He looked at her in surprise.  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Jackson, what happened between Ramona and you this morning?” Noreen asked him.  “She came to my office in tears.”

He continued what he was doing.  “I told her that I couldn’t continue with our sessions and I recommended that she started seeing Mike.”

“Why did you do that?”

Without looking up, he confessed quietly, “I’ve done something that a therapist should never do.  I fell in love with her.”

“And your solution to this problem is to send her to someone else?”

“I can’t continue seeing her when there’s a conflict of interest.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to sit in that chair and listen to her talk about another man?  I get so jealous that I can’t think straight.  She deserves to be helped by someone who can be objective.”

“She said that you were upset with her for being late.”

“Yes, I was.  I thought that she was with him—”

“Well, you were wrong.  It’s my fault that she was late.  I offered to give her a lift but wanted to stop by the cemetery first to put flowers on Tom’s grave.  Today is his birthday, you know.  He would have been fifty-three.  I spent a longer time than I intended and we had to rush over here.  Poor Ramona was mortified and was afraid that you wouldn’t see her.  I wanted to come up with her and explain why she was late but she declined my offer.”

“Okay, I was wrong about why she was late today but the fact remains she’s still hung up on her boyfriend even though he treats her like…” he broke off as he found himself getting upset.  “Let’s face it, Noreen, I’m in love with a woman who wants to be with a man who doesn’t deserve her.  Such is life.”

“Is that what you believe?  You believe that Ramona wants to be with Devon?”

“Yes.” The word came out as a strangled whisper.  It was torture loving and longing for someone he couldn’t have.

Noreen touched his arm, her eyes searching his face and seeing the pain etched in its features.  “You’re wrong about this too,” she told him quietly.  “Ramona doesn’t want to be with Devon.  She broke up with him weeks ago.”

Jackson stared at her.  “She broke up with him?” he repeated, looking puzzled.  “But why did she continue to come here and talk to me about him if she ended their relationship?  It doesn’t make any sense.”

“People do strange things when they’re in love, Jack.”

“In love?  Are you saying that–?”  He shook his head.  “No, you must be mistaken.  She may have broken up with him but she’s still carrying a torch for Devon.  That’s why she’s been coming and talking to me about him.”

“I’m not mistaken.  She told me herself.  She kept coming to your sessions because she wanted to continue seeing you.  And when you told her that you were referring her to another therapist, she was devastated.  She didn’t tell you how she felt about you because it would be another reason for ending your sessions.  She was in quite a state when she came to my office.  I gave her a lift home.”

He raked his fingers through his hair, trying to digest what he was hearing.  His heart wanted to believe that Ramona loved him but his mind kept resisting.  “This is probably transference.  You know when a patient transfers his or her feelings to the therapist…”

“I know what transference means, Jack.  I don’t believe that it applies here, though.  Ramona is in love with you.  Why don’t you go over to her flat and tell her how you feel?  Put both of you out of your misery.”

“I’m afraid, Noreen,” he confessed, his voice a bit unsteady. “I’m afraid to hope and believe that she could love me when she has loved him since high-school. I’m afraid that he will always be between us.”

“Jack, love is a funny thing.  We can’t help whom we fall in love with. Sometimes, it works out and sometimes it doesn’t.  But, love is like the ocean.  It can be calm or rough, shallow or deep but we can’t know unless we venture out and get our feet wet.  Don’t let fear prevent you from following your heart.  Life is too short for fears and doubts…and regrets.”  She sighed.  “What I wouldn’t give to have my Tom alive and with me.”  Tom, her husband of thirty years had passed away five years ago, leaving behind their three children and her.  “Go to her, Jack.”

Heart racing, he decided to take her advice.  “All right,” he said.  “I’ll go and see her now.  Thank you, Noreen.”

Noreen smiled and her eyes seemed a bit moist.  She reached up and hugged him tightly.  “Don’t mention it.”  They walked out the office together and parted ways in the parking lot.

He sat in his car for a few minutes, wrestling with himself and then he pulled out of the parking lot, heading for the highway which would take him to Ramona.  Twenty minutes later, he was standing outside of her flat, his heart pounding hard.  His hand shook as he raised it to ring the bell.  The door opened and she stood here, staring at him.  How he longed to take her in his arms.

“I didn’t think I would see you again,” she said in a trembling voice.  Her eyes were red from crying.  She stepped aside so that he could go in.

“I’m sorry about today,” he said after she had closed the door and was facing him.  “Noreen came to see me and she explained why you were late.”

“I wanted to be early,” she said.  “I couldn’t wait to see you.  I was looking forward to spending an hour with you but because I was so late, I got to spend only twenty-five minutes which went by so quickly.”

“My next appointment was in ten minutes.  Noreen told me that you broke up with Devon.  Why didn’t you tell me?”

She glanced down at her hands which were twiddling with a crumpled tissue.  “I was afraid that if I did you would stop seeing me and—and I couldn’t bear that.”

“Why Ramona?” he asked huskily.

“I love you,” she murmured, still holding her head down.  Her heart was racing.  She wanted to throw herself in his arms but uncertainty about his feelings for her held her in check.

His fingers clenched into fists as he fought the urge to take her in his arms.  “What about Devon?” His faceless rival hovered between them.  “Did you see him yesterday?”

She nodded.  “Yes, I did but it didn’t transpire the way I told you.  I went to the café to meet my friend, Brandi and he was there.  We spoke for a while and then he left.”

“So, all that stuff about him wanting to go up to your flat, that wasn’t true?”

“It’s true but it didn’t happen yesterday.  It happened a long time ago when we were on and off and before I started seeing you.”

“What about now?” he asked, his expression tense.  “Do you still have feelings for him?”

She looked up then, her eyes wide as they met his.  “No.  He and I are finished.  I don’t love him.  I don’t believe I ever did.  It was an infatuation which died when I met you.”

He swallowed hard.  “I want to hear you say that you love me again.”

“I love you.”

“Say my name.”

“I love you, Jackson.” She moved closer to him.  “I love you so much that the thought of never seeing you again was unbearable.”

He pulled her into his arms, his eyes dark and stormy.  “I love you too, Ramona,” he muttered thickly.  “You have no idea how much it pained me when you ran out of my office.  I wanted to come after you but I thought about Devon and…”

She raised her hand and touched him gently on the lips.  “Let’s not talk about Devon anymore.  He’s my past and you’re my future.  And now we have the present.”  She trembled when he held her hand and pressed his lips into the palm before he bent his head and kissed her.  Cupping his face between her hands, she responded wildly.

For several minutes, they exchanged hungry kisses and then she drew back to gaze up at his flushed face.  “Does this mean that you’re no longer my therapist?” she gasped.

“Yes.  Today was your last session.”

“Being with you is all the therapy I need,” she murmured before she pulled his head down to hers.

 

Taking a Chance

Valerie and her younger sister, Chloe were at the café having lunch.  “I think moving to Berlin would be good for you,” she said.  “It’s a great opportunity for you to broaden your horizons.  I chose to study here in London because I wanted to be close to home but if I were to do it all over again, I would have opted to study in Berlin and then move back here after graduation.  It’s cheaper to study in Germany than here and the scholarship you applied for and got allows you to study there for free.  What more could you ask for?”

Chloe sighed.  “I’m excited to go but scared at the same time,” she confessed.  “I’ve never been away from home before and I don’t know what it would be like living on campus in a strange city.  Maybe I’ll get homesick and want to come back at the end of the first semester.”

“Or maybe you’ll love it there and we won’t see you except during the summer and Christmas holidays.  Don’t assume the worst.  Just have faith that everything will work out.  And who knows, you might meet a cute guy.”

Chloe smiled.  “If he’s as cute as Colin, I wouldn’t mind at all.”

Colin was Valerie’s boss.  “Yes, Colin is very good-looking, isn’t he?”

“You like him, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“What about him?  Does he like you?”

“I don’t know.  I really can’t tell.”

“Why don’t you ask him out?”

Valerie balked at the idea.  “I can’t do that,” she exclaimed.

“Why not?  Is there an office policy that says you can’t date?”

“No, there isn’t but—”

“Val, I think you should ask him out.  The worst thing that could happen is that he turns you down.”

“And it could affect our working relationship.  I don’t know, Chloe, I have to think really hard about this one.”  She glanced at her watch.  “I have to be getting back to the office.  I’ll give you a lift to the train station.”  She signaled to the waitress for the bill.

When they stepped outside, she blinked in the bright sunshine and chided herself for not having her sunglasses.  They walked to where her car was parked and drove to the train station which was about twenty minutes away.  Outside of the station, they hugged and Chloe promised to call her over the weekend.

As Valerie drove to the office, she thought about what Chloe said.  The idea of asking Colin out on a date both thrilled and terrified her.  They have been working together for six years yet she still couldn’t say with any degree of certainty that the attraction she felt for him was mutual.  There were times when she thought that it was but since nothing came of it, she dismissed it as wishful thinking.  Well, there was only one way to find out but she was afraid to take that chance.  She didn’t want to jeopardize the great working relationship they had.  So, if she couldn’t be with him romantically, at least, she could be with him professionally for now.

By the time she got to the office, she had made up her mind that she wasn’t going to ask Colin out on a date.  She went to her desk and put her handbag away.  After logging on to her computer and checking emails, she was about to reply to some of them when her phone rang.  It was Colin.  He wanted to see her.  She got up immediately and went to his office.  After closing the door behind her, she walked over to where he stood looking out of the window.  He turned when he heard her.

He looked amazing in the grey striped suit and white shirt which was unbuttoned at the neck, exposing his throat.  Like clockwork, her heart was pounding and her pulse was racing.  She tried to appear nonchalant by tucking her hands in her pants pockets.  She saw his gaze travel over the short grey jacket, white blouse and black pants she was sporting before it returned to her face.  “Did you have a good lunch?” he asked.

She nodded.  “Yes.  Chloe got the scholarship to study in Berlin in September.  She is nervous about living away from home.”

“It was the same thing with my sister, Kathleen when she got accepted to the University of Edinburgh to study medicine.  She was nervous about living away from home but after the first week, she loved it.  She had made new friends and was getting used to the student life.  Joining different clubs helped.”

“The next time I speak to Chloe, I will tell her about Kathleen.”

“I can do better than that.  I can have Kathleen get in touch with her.”

“That would be great.  Thanks, Colin.”

“Do you have plans for tomorrow?” he asked suddenly, startling her.

“No.”

“Good.  I’d like you to have dinner with me at my place.”

She stared at him for several minutes.   Did he just ask her out?

“What’s the matter?” he asked when she didn’t answer.  “Don’t you want to have dinner with me?”

“Yes, I do,” she said.  “It’s just that you caught me by surprise.”

“You and I have been working together for a long while now, don’t you think that it’s time we pursued a more personal relationship with each other?”

“Yes,” she agreed, sounding a little breathless.  He was staring at her and the expression on his face made her mouth go dry.  “What-what time would you like me to be there?”

“Seven. Val…” he reached out and caught her by the hand, pulling her toward him, his eyes darkening on her face. Then, he was kissing her and she eagerly responded. His hands pressed her against him and her arms wound themselves tightly around his neck as they exchanged kisses. This lasted for several minutes before he raised his head, his breathing unsteady. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long, long time,” he admitted huskily.

“What prevented you?” she asked, trying to catch her breath.

“I wasn’t sure how you felt about me and I didn’t want to put you in a bad spot.”

“It’s funny but just today, Chloe was encouraging me to ask you out but I was afraid to because I didn’t know how you felt about me and I didn’t want to ruin our working relationship.”

“Well, I’m glad that one of us took Chloe’s advice.  I wish I didn’t have to go to a meeting now but I do.” He reluctantly released her and went over to his desk to get a notebook and some papers.  They walked together to the door.  He opened it and before they parted he said in a low voice, “I’m looking forward to tomorrow.”

For the rest of the afternoon, she was on cloud nine and all that evening she thought of nothing else but having dinner with Colin.  She called Chloe and her sister was thrilled.  “Good for him,” she said.  “He took a gamble and it paid off.  Well, have fun and call me on Sunday with the juicy details.”  Valerie chuckled and ended the call.

Saturday evening came and she was on her way to Colin’s flat over at Canary Wharf.  She fixed her hair and smoothed her dress before she rang the doorbell.  Colin opened the door, his eyes brightened when he saw her.  “Hello,” he greeted her before stepping aside to let her in.  He removed her coat and his eyes slipped admiringly over her slim figure in the long sleeved Cranberry colored dress with the scooped neck.  Her hair was pulled back at her nape with a clasp with a few tendrils framing her face.  “You look great,” he remarked.

“Thank you. So do you.”  He looked incredibly sexy in the black shirt and black jeans.  His hair was slightly damp with a few strands brushing against his forehead.  She handed him a bottle of non-alcoholic white wine before she followed him into the living-room.  “You have a beautiful place,” she remarked, her eyes sweeping over the spacious room with its muted shades of titanium and brown.

It was very stylish, decidedly masculine décor and cozy.  There was a large balcony which faced the tall office buildings in the Financial District.  It was too cold to go on there now but she could imagine how pleasant it would be to sit out there during the summer.  In the centre was a rug that looked like wall tiles with a low table on it and adjacent were the stereo system and television set.  Opposite was a large brown leather sofa with four decorative cushions and a gorgeous antique chair faced the balcony.  Behind the sofa was the dining-room and on the table were dinnerware, two glasses and unlit candles.

“Have a seat at the table,” he suggested before he disappeared into the kitchen.

She sat down in the chair facing the balcony and watched the skyscrapers.  A delicious and mouthwatering smell wafted into the room and she found herself eagerly looking forward to what he was preparing.  “Something smells really, really good,” she commented when he brought out two bowls of salad.

He smiled.  “We’re having Crispy Chicken with Shallots served over wild rice.” When he came back, he lit the candles and sat down at the table.  After she prayed, they tucked into the Green Salad with Cranberry Vinaigrette.  It was delicious and she made a mental note to get the recipe from him.  When they were done, she wanted to take the bowls in and help him to bring out the dinner but he said, “I can manage, but thanks for offering to help.”

He brought out the plates, set them on the table and then went back to get the bottle of wine which she had brought.  “Thanks for bringing this,” he said as he poured some in her glass and then his.  He raised his glass in a toast.  “Here’s to the first of many dinners together.”

She smiled and raised her glass.  Over the mouth-watering main course, they talked about different things, including making plans to see each other.  A long while after, he asked, “Do you have room for dessert?”  She nodded, although she didn’t think she could eat another morsel.

When he brought two glasses of chocolate mousse, her eyes brightened.  “I love anything with chocolate,” she exclaimed and picking up her spoon and dived into it, savoring the thick, creamy richness.  When she was done, she looked up at him.  He looked amused.  “Thank you for a wonderful dinner.”

He smiled.  “It was my pleasure.  Make yourself comfortable on the sofa while I clear the table and chuck everything in the dishwasher.”

She got up from the table and went into the living-room.  Instead of settling down on the sofa, she went over to the glass door and stood, looking out at the city skyline.   The buildings loomed like giants above the streets and the wharf, silent and the lights that dotted their structure reminded her of diamonds.  What a magnificent view and to be greeted by it every night must be a real treat.

Colin joined her in the living-room.  He turned on the stereo and the sound of R&B filled the room.  He went over to her, and taking her by the hand, he danced with her in front of the sliding doors.  She put her arm around his neck and gazed up at him as they moved to the music.  His eyes searched her face before he lowered his head and kissed her.  It was a light caress at first and then it deepened.  They stopped moving to the music as they kissed wildly, passionately.

Then he picked her up and as he carried her through the living-room, the following quote came to her mind, “Nothing important was ever achieved without someone taking a chance”.  Colin took that chance and here they were.

Source:  Scholars 4 Dev

The Afternoon Tradition

As she drank her tea, she thought of her grandmother.

Grams would have turned 90 today.  How she missed her.

It was Grams who got her into the habit of drinking tea

in the afternoons.  She thought of the times when she

used to walk over to Grams’ house after school and sit

at the table and watched as she poured the hot tea into

two large cups.

 

Earl Grey was Gram’s favorite.  She had her reasons why.

And she loved to list them.  “It has many benefits, Steffi,” she

would say.  “It calms your nerves, improves your immune

system, helps your digestion, keeps you alert, which is good

for people my age,” she paused to chuckle at that remark

before she continued, “It boosts your metabolism, improves

your heart health, prevents cancer, keeps you hydrated and

protects your teeth.  And it tastes good.”

 

Stephanie had to agree.  Earl Grey had a fruity flavor and

didn’t taste as bitter or strong as the other types of black

tea.   So, it was over a cup of Earl Grey tea that she was

remembering her grandmother who passed away from

natural causes two years ago.

 

It was during those afternoon visits that Grams would

talk to her about the Bible.  The book of Proverbs was

her favorite.  “It has lots of good advice for all of us,

especially for young people.” And she would read

to her.

 

As Grams sipped her tea, Stephanie would talk to

her about school, growing up and boys.  She told her

about the annoying boy in school who was always pulling her

hair and doing things to upset her.  When Grams told her

that he did these silly things because he liked her,

she was shocked but Grams was right.  She was

always right.  She had so much wisdom.

“I get it from reading God’s Word,” she

said and “I ask Him for it too.”

 

Grams was the first one in her family

to meet the man she ended up marrying.

He was that same annoying boy from school.

Grams was  the first to hold their newborn

baby.  Sometimes she suspected that her

mother was a little jealous of the closeness

she had with her grandmother but Grams

never judged her or made her feel bad when

she made bad decisions but was always there

to encourage her.   It was Grams who had

faith in her when no one else did, including

herself.  And it was Grams who led her to

Jesus.

 

Their afternoon tea tradition lasted

through high school, college and even

after she got married.

 

She smiled as she sipped her tea.  Yes, she

missed her grandmother but she knew

she would see her again on the blessed

day when Jesus comes again.  Until then,

she would continue to enjoy a cup of

Earl Grey tea in the afternoons and

remember her beloved Grams.

 

 

Source:  Your Tea Headquarters

A Friend’s Advice

Perfume and incense make you feel good, and so does good advice from a friend – Proverbs 27:9

Nothing is sweeter

than the frank advice

of a friend offered

out of a loving heart.

Just as perfume pleases

the senses and lifts your spirit

so does sharing your troubles

with someone who cares

the burden is lifted

and the heart is made light.

You can trust your friend

to be honest with you even

if it hurts.

Perfume is sometimes overpowering

almost suffocating like

unwanted advice or those who

deceive or flatter us, telling us

what they think we want to hear

rather than what we need to know.

It is the friend that sticks closer

than a brother or sister

whose counsel is like

a pleasant fragrance to

the soul.

 

Sources:  Bible Gateway; Matthew Henry’s Commentary