My grandmother couldn't get anybody else to accompany her to the wake of her good friend Sheila who had died suddenly, so she called me up knowing that I wouldn't refuse. At twenty I'd never been to a wake before; people in my family were too mean to die and my friends too young. But I had observed quite a few wakes from a distance in my neighborhood. When I arrived at Granny's little cottage where she lived alone, she was already dressed and waiting. My grandfather had left her five years ago and moved in with a much younger coworker.
Granny was a stately looking woman who always stood straight with her head held high and a judgmental look on her face. It was said that she'd been like that since childhood. Her light-tan face was smooth and firm. At sixty two, her 5foot 9, slim body was more rounded than boney. Her once athletic body had only put on a meager layer of fat. The neat, fleshy ass was more wide than high and round, shaped to suit her wide hips which led down into long shapely, slightly bowed legs and the once high and jutting thirty eights, unlike when she was much younger and often went without bras, now needed one to keep them from running down her chest, but they were fairly firm and full; no floppy bags..
The place of the wake was just a ten minute walk over to a neighboring housing scheme. The noise from dominoes hitting table tops and the taunting voices of the players greeted us long before we reached the house. Dominoes, card games, rum, beer and hymn singing along with coffee and buttered soda crackers was standard fare at Caribbean wakes. There were tents on the front lawn and along one side of the house. Some folks were just standing around in the open drinking and chatting.
A tall, nice looking woman who looked to be in her early forties and sporting a frizzy afro hair style and big hoop earrings came out the open front door and walked up to us while my grandmother was looking around for anyone she knew.
"Goodnight mom."
"Goodnight dearie, how are you?" gran replied, smiling.
"I'm fine. Goodnight sir," the smooth, oval chocolate face said to me.
I was jolted speechless. I'd never been called sir before and felt a tingle all over my body that rapidly increased when I looked up into the intimidatingly pretty face of the woman and I could only manage a smile; the intended words remained choked up in my throat.
"Thank you both for coming," she said, with bright, intelligent looking eyes boring into mine as she smiled sweetly.
I was truly at a loss for words as I stood there like a man hypnotized, staring at the vision of loveliness that was looking back at me saucily with enough interest to make me feel special. We held each other's gaze for a few seconds before blushingly cast her eyes to the ground. When she looked back up her face appeared perturbed by the brief nonverbal exchange. Luckily gran was still looking around for whomever she had in mind, and missed it. A sudden, excited voice broke the strange and titillating moment of tension between the pretty, grown woman and the captivated, virginal young man.
"Ettie, you came!"
"Joyce, what do you mean I came, you know your sister Sheila was like a big sister to me. Why you acting like my being here is a surprise?"
"I didn't mean it the way it sounded," the woman replied, "I see Shevonne is already attending to you - and this handsome young man must be your grandson."
"Yes, your daughter greeted us though she hasn't yet recognized me."
"Oh my god, Miss Ettie, please forgive me," pretty face burst out. "It's been so long since I last saw you, nearly twenty years I think, and you're under that big hat." she added, laughing.
"Yes, since your wedding. How time flies, but you still look the same. Where's your husband?"
"Wherever the rum is you'll find him," Joyce said, sucking her teeth.
She looked around and jutted her chin towards a group of men around a table stacked with bottles. A heavyset light skinned guy was just raising a glass to his lips.
"See, I don't lie, the drunken fool," Joyce said.
'Mom, not tonight of all nights," the caramel beauty said irritably.
Shevonne, in an obvious effort to change the direction that her mother was headed, turned to me with outstretched hand.
"Pleased to meet you sir," she said.
Both her eyes and lips were smiling warmly and she touched all my nerve endings with the little word 'sir.'
I took hold of the extended hand and gripped it for an extended time as I looked into her eyes, again at a loss for words, offering only a shy smile as a response. It wasn't until she finally looked down that I realized I was still holding on to the soft hand. I noticed for the first time, her outfit - a white gypsy-like dress, the top of which though not completely off shoulder, still managed to show a lot of that and a good portion of inviting chest. It had little black buttons down the front and dropped to just below her knees. It hugged her ample hips snugly and then flared out. I could see that the breasts which were high and standing straight out were barely a B cup size. What she lacked in bosom she made up for in hips, thighs and ass.
"Every seat in the house is taken. Shevonne, find Miss Ettie, and George, if I remember right, seats under the tent while I go and get some help to bring out snacks. Don't worry Ettie, when I get one of them to come out with the food Shevonne will bring you in and steal her seat." This came from Joyce. She laughed and hurried away.
We followed Shevonne and her rolling ass to a couple of vacant chairs at the end of a row under the last tent. After seeing us seated she pointed to an empty chair opposite us and told us that was her seat. Immediately upon sitting she looked across at me and smiled making my entire body get hot, especially below my waist where a familiar stirring was felt. I couldn't take my eyes off her and every now and then, in between talking to the ladies on either side of her she would look at me and smile and we would hold each other's gaze for a few seconds.
Hymns were being blasted from a couple of huge speakers and the ladies under the tent, mostly old, were rocking and singing along, in most cases with closed eyes. I looked at Shevonne and she looked back at me boldly, neither of us bothering to disguise the mutual interest. It was obvious that we had started on a journey that was taking us somewhere at a very fast rate.
Shevonne came over and offered to get us something to drink.
"What would you like to have, Ms. Ettie?"
'Something the likes of which your husband is having. But don't tell Joyce and make it a stiff one; I'm drinking for two. Oh god, I can't believe she's gone," she said, sounding like she was on the verge of crying.
Turning to the side and bending over, Shevonne gave her a consoling hug, in the process smashing her big soft ass against my shoulder.
"What about you Georgie, the same?
I was just about to say that a soda would be fine, mindful of gran being there and also because I didn't particularly like alcohol - The crowd I hung with were more into books than booze - when gran said:
'Not a bit of it, no alcohol for him, he's only twenty; don't be fooled by his size." She laughed then added "oh, alright, only for tonight, get him a little something but nothing stronger than a beer."
I looked up at Shevonne to see what impact the bit of info about my age had on her. A brief look of concern flashed across her face as she looked at me, but it soon disappeared and was replaced by a smile.
She sad "he's a big enough boy; one drink won't do any harm."