Kendra couldn't move. Keith had loved her to the nth degree and she felt the sweet residual ache in every muscle of her body, especially down there. She giggled to herself, stretching in bed.
"God, what have I been missing my whole life?" she mused. If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up from it. But eventually, she had to get up. Keith had been gone over an hour, and she wanted to do something special by the time he came back. Maybe dinner? She surveyed her kitchen. Everything looked different, now. That one steak she'd bought wouldn't cut it. She'd have to pick up another for her man.
She was deciding on sides when her phone rang. The Evanses' number flashed across the screen, and her temperature jumped by 100 degrees.
"You are unbelievable, Dad," she started, ready to fight.
"No sweetie, it's me," Maria's honeyed voice came through the lines. "How's your weekend going? Were those case studies I sent you helpful?"
"Yes ma'am, they were. Thank you." She wandered through the house as she talked, straightening up and retrieving random articles of clothing that had been left behind last night. "You'll never guess who I ran into last night. Keith." Her voice squeaked just a bit on his name. The call waiting beeped, but she ignored it and waited for her mother's reaction.
Maria went silent on the other end. Over the years, she'd seen the parade of guys Kendra had brought home. None of them were good enough, in her opinion. Secretly, she'd always wondered if she and Robert had made a mistake forbidding her to see Keith. It was obvious how they felt about each other. Now he was even less of a desirable option for her daughter than before. He'd gone from being a poor boy with limited choices to an ex-con with none. But she couldn't deny the happiness in Kendra's voice. She hadn't heard her baby girl sound that bubbly in a long time.
"Uh-huh," she gently teased her. "And are his shoes under your bed?"
"N-nooo," Kendra stammered. It amazed her how her mom always knew when she'd gotten some. "But they might have been at some point. Oh my God, mom, it's like no time has passed at all. He's the same Keith."
"Well, just be cautious, darling. Six years is a long time, and there's no telling what he had to do, willingly or not, to survive incarceration."
Kendra came across her skirt by the bedroom door. She picked it up and jumped when she saw it covered Keith's .45-caliber pistol. Reluctantly, she admitted her mom could be right. Wanting it out of sight but not knowing what to do with the thing, she put it on the kitchen counter, under a dish towel.
"Mom, I want to ask you something. Did Dad ever send Keith my letters? He said he never got any of them."
"Oh, Lord. I knew this day would come," Maria intoned. "I told him it was wrong, but honey, your father was just trying to protect you."
"For just one minute, can you stop defending him! What gives him the right? Who does he think he is?" Kendra was so angry, she ignored the beep of another incoming call. This was too important. "He calls it protection, but it's really just about control. You guys. You made me feel like a race-traitor and a whore, simply because a boy loved me and I loved him back. And then you betrayed me again! How could you be so cruel?"
"Honey I just wanted the best for you. I never ascribed to your dad's racial obsession. But Keith, nice as he was, wasn't the best. That's all. Once you got to college, I figured you would move on."
What garbage, Kendra dismissed. Her mom always fell in line with her dad, no matter what. He was the one she needed to speak to.
"Put him on the phone."
"He's not here. He's at a conference in Portland."
"Typical." Just then, her doorbell rang. Kendra shrugged on her robe and went to answer it. But when she looked out the peephole, she couldn't see anyone. Tightening her sash, she opened the door. There on her entry mat was a single white rose. Confused, she looked to her left and right but no one was around.
"Who was that," her mom asked.
"No one, I guess. Look mom, I've got to run to the store. I'll talk to you later."
"All right, sweetheart. Remember, I love you."
Kendra took a quick shower and pulled on some sweats, making a mental list of items to buy: steak, wine, beer—he seemed like a beer man—condoms, asparagus and ice cream. They could talk more another day. Tonight, she just wanted to celebrate. Maybe she'd make a cake. She hurried to the gourmet grocer a few blocks away. Things were expensive but of a high-quality there.
"Hey, Miss Lady," the cashier said. The young teen treated her to a bit of light flirting whenever she came in. She gave the dark boy a friendly nod and continued through the bright aisles to the back.
"Give me your finest grass-fed, organic cut," she sang out happily to the butcher.
Gus raised an eyebrow. The pretty black lady was always pleasant, but she seemed downright giddy today.
"Sure thing. You must be celebrating."
"I am! How did you know?" She pointed out the steak she wanted and he wrapped it in white butcher paper.
"It's written all over your face," he grinned back. "Good to see you smiling. Whatever it is, congratulations." He handed her the package with a wink.
When she went to ring out, the cashier shot her a concerned look. He was slower than usual about bagging up her few purchases.
"Miss Lady," he whispered, "I think some dude is following you."
"What?"
"He came in after you, looked around and headed to the back. Then he came up front right before you and got in a white car, but he didn't pull off. I think he's waiting for you to come out. He gives me a bad vibe. Want me to walk out with you? At least to the end of the block."
Kendra's heart began pounding. "That's not necessary, sweetie. But can you come with me and point the car out?"
"Yes, ma'am." The boy hopped the counter and insisted she stay a few steps behind him until he could sight the guy. But when they got outside, it appeared to be for naught.
"I swear he was parked right there," the teen said, pointing. "He must've driven off. It was an older model, big body white sedan." He hung his head, frustrated. "Maybe it was nothing."
"Thank you for looking out, anyway," she said, patting his shoulder. She dug into her purse and offered him a few dollars, but he shook his head no.
"You don't pay me for that," he chided her. "I'm supposed to look out for you."
"All right, little man. Excuse me," she apologized jokingly. "I was just trying to put some money in your pocket."
