Sometime later I hear a knock at the door and opening it I see you standing there. You smile somewhat sheepishly and begin to speak when you hear the deep bass rumble of a man's voice.
"Damn baby, that was one helluva show. Thought I was gonna yank my pride right off at one point and then what would you do for.....Oh hey, I didn't hear the door, who is it?"
As the looming 6 foot 5 inch black death that is my husband wraps his arms around me, you pale slightly and say "Sorry...wrong apartment number."
Ivan, however, unexpectedly throws back his head and laughs, white teeth flashing as he grins widely. He reaches past me with an open, welcoming hand.
"Come on in, man. Guess you wanna meet the star of the show, huh?"
Hugging me close to him and bending over to kiss the top of my head he says, "This is my Joy. Isabelle Hawkens. And I'm Hawk, Ivan Hawkens, but everyone calls me Hawk. Well don't just stand there man, come on in, have a glass of wine, or a beer or something."
You look at me, somewhat bemused. I shrug slightly. I really have no idea what Ivan is up to at the moment, but you may as well come in. I smile to myself thinking at least you got out of your funk long enough to come find me, that's progress. I tighten the belt of my terrycloth robe, smiling again, like you haven't already seen everything I have to offer... Well, on second thought, you haven't yet. But you've certainly seen the map. Moving back from the doorway I wave you in and, like a man in a dream, you walk through the door and look around curiously.
The thought suddenly occurs to me that you're taller than I'd imagined, but then, who isn't, I think more realistically. A similar thought must occur to you as I see you looking down at me and smiling.
"Curt Warren" you say, holding out your hand and I shake it thinking to myself 'okay, I just spread myself and came loud enough to wake the neighbors for you....and NOW we're shaking hands!' My sense of the ridiculous is now fully inflamed and I look from our joined hands up at you to find that your hazel eyes are also twinkling with suppressed mirth. I start to laugh first, and soon I'm laughing so hard I've slid down the wall and am sitting on the floor, holding my sides. Wiping mirthful tears from my eyes I look up to see you leaning against the wall and laughing. I shake a finger at you and we both start laughing again.
I hear a crashing and banging in the kitchen.
Ivan calls, "Joy, baby, where's the veggie dip?"
He comes to the kitchen door, looking puzzled, and stops cold when he see us. He looks even more puzzled for a moment when he views our hilarity, then, shaking his head and flashing his brilliant smile again, he comes to help me up saying, "Crazy white folks!"
I reach up and pull his head down for a long, lingering kiss, realizing as I do that his hands are wandering and I'm in sudden danger of losing my robe. Breaking it off, I smile and pat him on the chest saying, "Yes sugar, I know, but you love us...."
He turns to you conspiratorially and says, "Tell you what I love most about THAT white woman...You can find her in the dark!"
Sticking my tongue out at your identical expressions of amusement and flipping my ponytail at you both I try to flounce into the kitchen, but it's dreadfully hard to flounce when you're 5 foot even, round as a Georgia peach, and wearing a bathrobe. Oh well, at least everyone seems to be getting along and having a good time. I'm still not sure why you're here, Mr. Warren, and I wish to God I knew what Ivan had in mind when he invited you in. Opening another bottle of Asti and grabbing freshly iced flutes from the freezer I pour for all of us. Ivan comes to wrap an arm loosely around me again and lifts his glass in a toast-
"To you, Joy. You've made every day an adventure!"
I see you drinking your toast along with us but there's a perplexed look on your face.
"Wait, I'm confused," you say. "I thought your name is Isabelle. Is Joy your middle name?"
"Man, don't you know your Bible?", Ivan answers, as he straightens from another search through the fridge.
You look totally confused now.
"Weeping and mourning may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning!", I quote, tossing my head at the tall man, standing behind me, adding, "It's his little joke."