Valerie signed up for every bit of overtime that her boss would give her. She did the same for volunteer projects—anything to keep her idle mind off Norman. To her way of thinking, between putting in her day hours, overtime hours, and volunteering to work on special projects, she’d be so tired that she’d pass right out and wouldn’t have time to remember or realize how much she missed Norman, or how much she loved him—despite herself.
Like that old song about washing that man right out of one’s hair, she was going to work him right out of her mind. And she did—for a time, but eventually love caught up to her, and every time she closed her eyes, she saw visions of Norman’s handsome face kissing her, holding her hand, or saying sweet things to her that made her feel like a woman. Every time she fell asleep—exhausted though she was—Valerie dreamed of Norman, and all of the dreams were the same.
In that recurring dream, she sang her heart out in church, making the saints shout, dance, and praise like never before, but the only difference was that Norman wasn’t there. Worried about him, her singing took on a melancholy tone because she wondered where he was. She poured every ounce of love she felt for him into the song, hoping that the synergy between them was strong enough for him to feel it—wherever he was. Obviously, it was, because he came charging down the aisle to where she stood, stopped the service, and proclaimed his love for her in front of the congregation, who said that was the best example of true agape love—sent from God—that they’d seen in a long time. Together, Valerie and Norman strutted off into the sunset.
Feeling that even her sleep was cruel in not allowing her to forget her beloved Norman, she pulled her listless body out of bed and prayed. She asked God to either take her mind off Norman or help them to get back together—if that was His will. She proposed in her mind that she would give that matter over to God and leave it with Him, because she sure wasn’t handling it very well on her own. Then, after weeks of restlessness, she slept like an infant—soundly, and through the night.
Valerie went on about her life, dropping the volunteer work. It was too much, and she felt herself burning out. She still did overtime, but not to the extent she had a few weeks ago. Her apartment resembled a gift shop because of all the flowers, chocolates, and stuffed animals Norman sent her. She had read all of the cards enclosed with them, but she didn’t call him to thank him, or accept any of his calls, because where Norman was concerned, she knew she was susceptible to his charms. If she was going to stay whole, strong, and unhurt, she had to ignore him—no matter how much her heart was breaking. The heaviness in her chest felt like a millstone. It was as if a rock had fallen through her heart, shattering it into little pieces. She took her head in her hands and cried tears that made the loneliness she felt for Norman even more chilling. I love you, Norman, but this is for the best. If I give in, you’ll wind up hurting me like Lucas, and I’d die before I let that happen, she thought, the emptiness she felt wrapping around her like a cocoon of gloom.
Norman felt as if he were in a twilight world, half alive without Valerie. He missed their drinking vanilla chai together after rehearsal, their quiet dinners, and phone conversations right before bedtime. Every part of his body ached for her. But at this point, he was beyond pain, and was merely hanging on to survival.
“Lord, I love her so much, what should I do? How do I make her know that I’m the real deal and would never do her wrong?” he wailed, half in prayer, half in misery. A vein in Norman’s neck pulsed. He kicked over a chair, and he punched the wall in frustration.
Not knowing why, he picked up his Bible and read various verses about manhood and a man’s role in marriage. After reading them, he knew that the task of convincing Valerie she should marry him was on him.
As always, Mother Maybelle wasn’t but a phone call away whenever Norman needed her. She had called him to come over to fix some loose tile in her shower, but decided not to when she heard the sullen tone in his voice. She had a sixth sense that told her whenever Norman was in trouble. She’d made several attempts to get him to talk about what was wrong, but he refused.
The feeling that Norman needed help was especially strong, so Mother Maybelle had an idea. She told him that she had something urgent to do and that she’d call him later.
Mother Maybelle spent the whole day preparing a delicious meal that was sure to keep him still so she could instill some more of her kitchen wisdom in him, as well as get inside of his head. If her home cooking wouldn’t loosen his lips, nothing would. As she’d promised, she called Norman and invited him over that evening.
“Come on over here and love my neck, son,” she quipped, setting two plates at her table when he arrived. “Give me some sugar.”
Norman gave his foster mother a big hug and a kiss on her cheek.
Her heart soaring with good cheer, she loaded his plate with baked ham, red-eye gravy, collard greens, candied yams, and two cloverleaf rolls filled with sweet creamy butter. Then, she fixed her plate and blessed their bounty.
“This feels like bribery, having a Sunday or holiday meal during the week,” he said, sprinkling hot sauce on his greens. “What gives?”
“Now, you just stay out of grown folk’s business and listen to me,” she ordered, not cracking a smile. She sounded as fierce and protective of him as he knew her to be. “I’m not blind, Norman. I see how Valerie’s been chilly toward you, lately. What, you’re in the doghouse with her, already?”
“No, ma’am,” he answered, his mouth full of her tasty meal.
She cut her eyes at Norman and gave him “the look.” “Looka here, Valerie Freeman is a class act. She’s one heck of a woman, and the Lord has laid it on my heart to tell you that she is your wife. Y’all love each other so much that everyone’s taking bets about your wedding date—except you both need to own up to it and do something about it. Any woman worth having is worth fighting for. Now, go fight for that gal. And don’t stop there when you marry her, give her as much loving as she can stand and make it so good that she won’t ever think about anyone or anything else except getting home for more!” She scooped more yams onto her plate.
Norman reeled with astonishment, his eyebrows shooting up. “Mother Maybelle!”
“You better do something about those eyes, boy, before they pop out of your head. Don’t Mother Maybelle me! Remember, I’ve been married before and been around the block a few times! I know what time is, okay? Now, I’ve helped you all I can; the rest is on you!” she reminded him.
Over a second helping, he got an earful from Mother Maybelle about what a good husband should do to please his wife and about the virtues of marriage. Then, she put him to work as she’d originally planned.
After dinner, Norman raced home from Mother Maybelle’s, his mind whirling with all of her advice and admonishments. In fact, he couldn’t get there fast enough, moving in haste with hurried purpose. He was determined to get Valerie back, and now he had a plan.
He shook, as fearful images of her rejecting him built up in his mind. But that was a chance he was willing to take. Dialing the phone, he trusted in that knowledge, as well as in his love for Valerie. “Good evening, Valerie, it’s Norman,” he intoned, feeling sure of himself. “This standoff between us has gone on long enough, and it’s time to put some things on the table.”
Expecting a return call from her boss with an answer to an important question, Valerie had answered the phone, not thinking that the caller could be Norman. There was no way that she could wiggle out of talking to him, now. “There’s really nothing to talk about. Say whatever you have to while you have me on the line,” she said with a coldness she didn’t really feel.
He spoke firmly. “Have dinner with me tomorrow night—and I won’t take no for an answer. By the way, the attire is after five.”
Norman told her what time he’d pick her up and ended the call—not wanting to say anything that would cause her to change her mind. If he had his way, tomorrow’s dinner date would change both of their lives.
Valerie was clueless about where Norman was taking her when they got to Macon and boarded the pontoon to cross the Ocmulgee River. A short while later, they walked into Armando’s, the swankest supper club in that city. She gasped in stunned silence as she scanned the large room. Candlelight was reflected in the beveled mirrors and in the sparkling crystal. Candles flickered in several solid gold wall sconces around the room. The tables were elegantly dressed with crisp damask tablecloths—maroon on the bottom, deep maize on the top—accentuated by matching napkins. Her feet sank into the plush carpet. Taking in the small but functional stage at the front of the establishment, she noticed that the dance floor was made of perfectly polished parquet. “Norman, this place is breathtaking,” she purred.
“Not as breathtaking as you, Valerie.” His eyes were dark and smoldering, and he couldn’t help but smile roguishly at how stunning she looked in her black sequined cocktail dress with the plunging neckline. Their evening would cost him a paycheck and a half, but it would be worth it—if he pulled his plan off.
Over a dinner of grilled Canadian salmon, sautéed sea scallops, risotto with slivers of almonds, and creamed spinach, they made small talk about the weather, sports, current events, and the restaurant—everything except what was going on between them. Norman was biding his time, trying to earn her trust and friendship once again—confident that the rest would play out naturally.
By this time, Frankie Sutton, a well-known local singer, was being introduced as the evening’s entertainment. She began her set with “I Can’t Make You Love Me,” to thunderous applause.
“I love this song, Norman!” Valerie exclaimed, as if running on all eight cylinders.
Seizing the opportunity, Norman asked her to dance. The touch of his hand on hers sent a warming shiver through her. Stepping forward, he clasped her body tightly to his, her soft curves meshing with the contours of his firm form. Norman wrapped his arms around her midriff, and Valerie fastened her arms around his neck. Moving ever so slowly as one body to the sensuous melody of the ballad, Valerie’s defenses began to subside. She buried her face against the corded muscles of his chest, drinking in the smell of the Quorum cologne on his charcoal gray suit jacket. She locked herself in his embrace, peering deeply into Norman’s eyes and exchanging scorching glances with him.
With a pulse-pounding certainty, she couldn’t deny that she was in love with him—and there was no turning back! She had been miserable without him, heartsick and heartbroken. The past few weeks had shown her that she was very much in love and that she shouldn’t judge Norman for Lucas’s wrongdoings. Very much a realist, Valerie knew in her soul that the only way she’d be truly happy was being with Norman—whatever that meant. She wanted him and was ready to give in to what her heart felt.
As the singer crooned “Teach Me, Tonight,” Valerie sank into Norman’s protective embrace and thought about certain lessons she was fully ready to teach him. Their dance was more than two people moving to the music; it became a private declaration of their feelings, expressing things only they understood. Their hearts, minds, bodies, and souls were in perfect harmony, and in that moment, Norman felt so full, so in love.
Knowing it was time to move on to the next part of his plan, Norman walked Valerie back to the table and signaled the waiter to bring the bill. After his credit card was returned, they walked downstairs and found that a shiny white and gold hansom carriage with two white horses awaited them on the other side of the river. Warm air blew through the trees, making the air fragrant with the scent of the pink cherry blossoms, camellias, azaleas, and Golden Lady Banksia roses. Clouds scudded playfully across the face of the moon. It was a perfect spring night.
In the carriage, Norman drew Valerie close to him, draping his arm around her shoulder as they rode around Macon, taking in fresh air and the sights and sounds along the way. She steeled herself against the immense pleasure that threatened to carry her away; her body conscious of his nearness, his touch, his lips.
Norman’s mouth captured Valerie’s, partaking of everything she had. His kiss was urgent, passionate, devouring every drop of her sweet nectar. It was a kiss for her needy soul to melt into, and was every bit as hot as the smoldering heat that joins metals. When he took her mouth with an intensity like none other, Valerie was shocked at her wanton response as she kissed him back with every ounce of love she felt for him. The fire within consumed Valerie, making her response instant, shameless, and total. She longed for Norman to love her like a real woman.
Divine ecstasy overtook Norman, and his breathing became harsh and uneven. As he stirred her passion, his grew stronger, and he didn’t know if it was the scent of the cherry blossoms or the love he felt for Valerie that drove him so wild. “I love you, Valerie Freeman. I want to protect you and take away all your hurts. No other woman has made me feel the way you do. Will you marry me?” he proposed, pulling a two-carat marquise-cut diamond ring out of a blue velvet box.
Valerie drew in a deep breath and forced herself not to cry. Finally letting go of her hesitation and reservations, she gave him an answer. “Yes, Norman, I’ll marry you!” She was dizzy with glee and she felt whole. The thought of being jilted at the altar, or Lucas running out on her, never crossed her mind. Her eyes danced, knowing she had all the man she’d ever need.
Norman slipped the ring on her finger, reassuring her that he’d never hurt her and would love her unconditionally for the rest of their days. He told her that she was a mighty special woman to take away his fear of commitment and make him want to settle down.
Through tears of joy, Valerie, too, confessed her undying love for Norman.
“Congratulations,” the driver said, tipping his top hat to them, taking great pride in the fact that many couples had become engaged in his Hansom cab.
Their final stop was the St. Regis Hotel, the finest of its kind in Macon. Located just past the downtown area, Norman chose it to ensure that they didn’t run into anyone from Red Oaks Christian Fellowship. Feverish with desire and downright horny, he swept Valerie in his arms and carried her to the room—which he’d reserved for them earlier that day.
Kissing her with an abandon that belied his outward calm, Norman felt her breasts thrust toward him: firm, round, and full. His tongue demanded her full surrender and she molded herself against Norman, wanting more. His hands roamed over her body, burning a path down her chest and stomach, discovering and unleashing the passionate woman within.
“Norman, baby, that feels so good,” she whispered. Gentle moans of passion escaped her lips as he suckled on first one ripened bud, then the other.
In a matter of a few seconds, he stripped off her clothes with master speed and precision, laying her on the bed. He drank in every inch of her body with his eyes, marveling at her beauty. “You’re so hot, honey, so beautiful. I’m going to love you right and give you as much of me as you can stand,” he promised, knowing he’d soon extinguish the powerful ache pulsating in his loins.
Valerie’s stomach twisted with the hard knot of need, and she gave herself freely to Norman, enjoying the warmth of his fingertips against her tingling skin. No longer could she stand the torture he was inflicting upon her, so she undressed him, flinging his clothes every which way.
They feathered their fingers over each other’s bodies, teasing, probing, and exploring everything.
Feeling his throbbing hardness, she caressed it first with her hands, then with her mouth, setting fire to Norman’s already burning flame.
“I love you, Valerie…don’t stop,” he begged.
She continued her path to ecstasy, lapping, laving, and loving him with her warm, wet tongue.
Norman reciprocated and seared his own path of ecstasy from her neck to her feet, stopping only long enough to find and taste the throbbing, engorged bud between her thighs. Sampling her love juices, he tested her readiness with three fleshy fingers, determining that she was ripe for what he had for her. Retrieving a foil packet from the nightstand next to the bed, he opened it and sheathed himself.
Valerie gasped as Norman eased himself into her boiling depths, and she welcomed him into her body. Understanding his rhythm, she caressed his enormous manhood with her pelvic muscles, engaging in the instinctive movements of a woman who longed to please her man.
“Ooh, yes, baby, work it. You’re so good,” Norman groaned, increasing his movements to a hungry, furious intensity.
With each deepening thrust, Valerie trembled. “Yes, Norman, give it to me. Please don’t stop.”
And he didn’t. He mated her with piston-driving strength, his body possessing hers. Valerie locked her legs around his neck, rewarding herself with every inch he had to give until warm streamers of light enveloped her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Suddenly, her world exploded in a dazzling kaleidoscope of colors. Surrendering in a starburst of ecstasy, Valerie orgasmed as she never had before, screaming out Norman’s name.
Involuntary tremors of arousal shook Norman’s body, and his love for Valerie flowed out of him like warm honey. At long last, their bodies were in exquisite harmony with one another’s—the hunger they had for each other finally satisfied.
“I love you, now, and for always, Valerie,” Norman cried out, their lovemaking the only reality in his world.
Filled with a sense of completeness, she joined Norman in that place of rapture, totally fulfilled.
Afterward, they cuddled in silence, their bodies still wet from their lovemaking. Boring into each other’s eyes, no words were said; none were necessary. What they felt in their hearts said it all. Soon, they fell into the sated sleep of lovers. Awaking revitalized, they made love again and again and again until dawn.