CHAPTER EIGHT

Sunday afternoon, Cherish went over to Darbi’s condo as promised and helped her chose a dress for her date. The sleeveless lavender body-hugging dress showed off her new slender frame and toned arms. “You look great, Darbi. Where are you guys going?” She watched Darbi twirl around in front of the mirror, like a debutante going to her first dance.

“DeMarcus called earlier and said we were going to the La Plaza de Sol.” Darbi walked to her vanity table to put on some makeup. “I can’t believe he’s taking me to such an expensive place on our first date.”

“Wow! Now that’s a ritzy place.”

Darbi walked over to where Cherish sat on the bed and sat beside her. “I do wonder what I’ll have in common with a twenty-eight-year-old. What will we talk about?”

“Pretend you like football,” Cherish advised. “Men love attention. Just pretend to hang on his every word, no matter how stupid it sounds,” Cherish quipped.

Soon Darbi’s phone rang, interrupting their talk. DeMarcus was at the entrance gate. After she buzzed him in, she touched up her makeup and fussed with her hair, waiting for the doorbell to ring.

Cherish picked up her things to leave also. “I can’t wait to see him in person. He’ll be my first celebrity sighting.”

“You should come to aerobics. He’s there every Saturday,” Darbi teased as the doorbell rang.

Darbi opened her door. DeMarcus filled her doorway, all six-foot-seven of him. He was dressed very smartly in a dark suit, but she thought the sunglasses were a bit much, considering it was evening. She noticed the large bouquet of red roses that he attempted to hide behind his back.

When DeMarcus presented the flowers to Darbi, he bowed. “Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady.”

Darbi took the flowers and inhaled their aroma. No man had ever brought her flowers!

“Thank you, DeMarcus. They’re beautiful.” She nodded toward Cherish. “This is my friend, Cherish Murray. Cherish, this is DeMarcus Jameson.” Darbi watched Cherish go from the classy woman she had known for the last few months to the babbling football groupie.

“Wow! This is great. I watch you all the time. You are the best thing to happen to the Cowboys in a long time.” Cherish finally got hold of herself and returned to her usual demeanor. She took a deep breath and said, “Hello, DeMarcus. It’s very nice to meet you.”

DeMarcus smiled. “Hey, sweetie. How you doing?” He looked down at Cherish.

Cherish giggled, came to herself, said her good-byes and left. Now Darbi was alone in her condo with the football player. She watched as he gave his approval of her dress.

“Baby, that dress is tight.”

Darbi ran her hand over her dress. “No, it just looks tight. See?” She pulled at the fabric, demonstrating for him.

DeMarcus shook his head. “No, no. I mean it looks great. Hugs your fine body in all the right places. Ready to jet?”

Darbi looked confused. “DeMarcus, I’m not really up on hip-hop lingo. You’ll have to speak properly if you want me to answer you.”

“Sorry. Ready to leave?”

Darbi smiled. Better. “Yes, I’m ready.”

She followed DeMarcus to his Range Rover. He didn’t hold her hand or open her door for her. He slid behind the driver’s seat and waited for her to get in before starting the truck.

I sure miss Curry, Darbi mused as they arrived at the restaurant. Her ears were still ringing from the gangsta rap DeMarcus played on his Bose stereo enroute. After he handed his keys to the valet, they were escorted inside the restaurant. They followed their hostess to the cozy table in silence. Again, DeMarcus didn’t help her with her chair; the waiter did.

“What would you like to drink, sir, madam?”

DeMarcus looked at Darbi as she glanced around the room. “Darbi, would you like some wine or something?”

“A glass of merlot.” Darbi looked around at the elegant atmosphere. The lighted candles gave it a romantic touch. She heard DeMarcus order a Crown and Coke.

“This is a gorgeous restaurant,” Darbi commented. “You come here a lot?”

“Every now and then.”

The waiter reappeared. “What would you like to start off with?” He looked at Darbi for a reaction.

“I’d like the lobster taco.”

“I’ll have the Texas crab cakes,” DeMarcus added.

The waiter left, then returned quickly with their order. DeMarcus ordered another round of drinks. Although it was an elegant restaurant, with romance oozing everywhere, she wasn’t having as much fun as she’d had with Curry. Maybe I’m prejudging him because he’s an athlete, she thought. He could be interesting. DeMarcus’s deep voice shocked her back to their meal.

“Darbi, I asked you what you were doing for Thanksgiving.”

Darbi shrugged her shoulders. “Probably have dinner at my brother’s.”

“Why don’t you come watch me play football? I can show off my skillz,” he said with hip-hop inflection. “You know, the reason they call me DeMarcus Da Man.” He finished his drink.

She shook her head. “I can’t. My father’s sick and I like to spend my spare time with him.” Darbi took a small sip of her wine and glanced around the room again.

“Okay, I understand. How about you, your dad and your brother come see me sport my skillz?”

Darbi immediately added Cherish to the equation. “There would be four of us.”

“Four! Woman, I’m not trying to pay for your entire family, just a select few.”

The waiter interrupted Darbi’s retort. “Ready to order your entrée?”

They both nodded. Darbi ordered prime rib and he ordered grilled salmon. She also asked for another glass of wine, somehow needing courage from a bottle. The waiter nodded and left the table.

Darbi resumed the conversation. “DeMarcus, I wasn’t insinuating you had to buy tickets for my entire family—”

“He can’t even pay me child support. He better not be trying to buy nobody nothin’.” A very loud female voice interrupted their conversation.

Darbi looked at the owner of the voice. She was a medium height brown-skinned woman, with enough hair extensions for two people. “DeMarcus?” Darbi glanced around the room to see if they had any spectators.

But DeMarcus didn’t speak and the woman continued her tirade. “Yeah, he’s always frontin’ like he gots money. He doesn’t want to even pay for our baby.” Pouting, she stood with her hands on her small hips, daring DeMarcus to contradict her.

Finally, DeMarcus spoke. “Keisha Monroe, what are you doing here? Does the phrase ‘restraining order’ not mean anything to you?”

“I followed you, fool. I would have confronted you at Miss Thang’s,” she pointed at Darbi, “but the security gate almost closed on my Geo Metro. I didn’t think you liked women with short hair. You were always telling me to go get some hair.”

A weight-challenged African-American woman soon joined the trio at the table. Darbi couldn’t quit staring at the large colorful tattoo adorning her bountiful bosom. Her blonde extensions looked almost as matted as her friend’s. The woman spoke, ending Darbi’s observation of the two women.

“Keisha, don’t let this sucka try to talk that smack about Jordan not being his son. He owes you, girl.”

“I know, girl.” Keisha nodded to her friend before turning her attention back to her victim. “DeMarcus, why you trippin’. Just write my check and I’ll be gone.”

Darbi wanted to cry. Twice married, white, carefree Curry looked excellent right now. She wanted to leave the restaurant as quickly and quietly as possible. She made eye contact with DeMarcus. He placed two one hundred dollar bills on the table to pay for the meal they didn’t eat.

The waiter appeared and DeMarcus gave him the money. He and Darbi almost ran out the restaurant in embarrassment. His Range Rover was parked out front with the motor running.

“What was that about?” Darbi asked as soon as they were safely away from the restaurant.

DeMarcus glared at the road as they headed back to Fort Worth. “Well, a few years back, I was going through a rough time. I was on the injured list most of the year. There were rumors of them trading me to an inferior team. I met Keisha at a nightclub. She was wearing next to nothing and was in awe of me.”

“Why don’t you just pay her child support?” He reminded Darbi of Amos, who was always ready to blame someone else for his foibles.

“I would pay her, if the kid were mine. I have good reason to believe that it’s not mine.” DeMarcus turned down a dark road lined with trees. The area looked oddly familiar to Darbi. It reminded her of the park near Darius’s house.

DeMarcus reached for his visor and pushed a button. Soon the gate they approached opened and closed behind them.

“Where are we?” Darbi reached into her purse to make sure she had her mace with her. She relaxed as she found the metal canister.

“Fort Worth, by the lake. I still owe you dinner. I can cook something for us to eat. I’m really sorry about those women showing up and ruining our date. The last thing I need is bad press.” As they reached the large two-story house, he pushed another button and the garage door opened. He parked the truck and got out.

Darbi followed him into the house. “Why don’t you think it’s your baby?”

“Because,” DeMarcus paused, looking in his fridge, “I’m sterile.”

Darbi peered at the giant man as he hid behind the large refrigerator door. “How do you know that?”

“Because when I was married, we tried for two years to have a baby. I thought it was her, and she thought it was me. She was right. After thousands of dollars in fertility tests, we discovered I had a low sperm count. Almost non-existent. I can never father a child.” He finally faced her after he found some steaks to grill. “After Keisha found out she was pregnant, she tried to get money out of me. My lawyer thinks I should pay her off.”

Darbi did, too. “Why don’t you?”

“Because I will not give in to that mentality. She thinks I’ll be her meal ticket. She’d probably sell me out to the papers anyway.”

“Have you told her you’re sterile?”

DeMarcus stared at her. “Of course not, it’s a man-thang. I can’t let the nation know that De-Man can’t father a child.”

“So you’d rather allow this girl and her friends to follow you all over town and harass you and your dates.” Darbi didn’t know whose situation was the worst: hers or his.

“You sound like my mother,” he said accusingly, but he still smiled.

“DeMarcus, you could take the test, take her to court and it would be over.” Darbi thought she heard a noise outside. “You could be rid of her, once and for all.”

Suddenly, they heard DeMarcus’s name being called and a few choice expletives.

Recognizing the words, DeMarcus cursed. “I can’t believe this!” He walked to the nearby wall phone.

“Who is it?” Darbi had an idea of who it was, but she hoped it wasn’t so.

“Those stupid women from the restaurant. I’m going to call the police. I’m afraid I’m going to have to give you a rain check for dinner. I can take you home after I finish with the cops.” He punched a number on the wall phone with short, angry strokes.

Darbi just wanted to get out of the situation before it got any worse. “That’s okay. I can call my brother. He lives near the lake. What’s the address here? I’m sure he can’t be that far.”

DeMarcus gave her the address and Darbi realized he was about half a mile from her brother. She would have walked if she’d thought she could get past those women.

Darbi called her brother and after answering a few embarrassing questions, was told he was on his way. Darbi thanked him and hung up the phone. She stared at DeMarcus.

“Please don’t let this evening be our last evening together,” he pleaded.

“Of course not, DeMarcus,” Darbi said in a soft voice, but her brain had another thought: If I see this man again, it will be too soon!

* * *

Darius’s eyes darted from the road as he looked at his sister in disbelief. She sat in the passenger seat of his truck calmly reciting the events of the evening leading up to her having to call him to pick her up on a deserted road near his house.

“They came into the restaurant and caused that big a scene?” He tried to gauge his sister’s reaction as he continued driving.

“Yes, it was horrible. They were yelling and shaking their hands at us, like we were criminals or something. It’s a wonder we weren’t on the news. Why can’t I find one good man?”

Darius felt guilty for pushing her away from Curry. Maybe his friend wasn’t so bad for his sister. “Curry was quite upset you went out with DeMarcus,” Darius said.

Darbi shook her head as she looked out the window. “Curry isn’t my worry right now. He said he only wanted friendship, anyway. You know, tonight reminded me of Amos and his family.”

Darius guessed those were painful memories. That was the first time she had mentioned her dead husband or his family in some time. “I’m sorry, Darbi.”

“That’s okay, Darius. Actually, it was funny now that I look back on it.” She started a small giggle that soon grew into a boisterous laugh.

Darius laughed as he drove. “Your date sounds like some of Curry’s past dates. What did the cops say?”

“They hadn’t got to his house yet. Have you talked to Cherish tonight?”

“Don’t start.” He didn’t tell her he was on the phone with Curry when she called.

* * *

A few days later, Cherish hummed a melodic tune as she fixed dinner for Darius. She wondered what he would do if she asked him to spend the night. Talk about being a perfect gentleman. Darius was a true Southern gentleman and he was driving her right up the wall. She laughed as she imagined his shocked face.

Darbi had reminded her she would have to make the first move if she wanted Darius and their relationship to move forward. Cherish didn’t know if she could, knowing he would turn her down. However polite his answer, it would still mean that they would not be making love anytime soon.

Darius had a lot going on in his life at the moment, and the last thing he needed was a woman forcing him to sleep with her. Cherish laughed at the role-reversal. Wasn’t the man supposed to be desperate for it and the woman supposed to put him off?

She turned her thoughts to her task, trying to rid herself of every erotic thought she’d had of Darius, which seemed impossible, since he was coming over for dinner.

Cherish prepared salad, steak, baked potatoes, and cheesecake. Thanks to Darbi, she also had his favorite beer, Samuel Adams, and another item she was sure she would not use that night. Earlier that afternoon, she and Darbi had gone shopping. In a moment of girl power, they’d both bought a box of condoms. As she turned the steak over on the indoor electric grill, Cherish mused that Darbi would probably use hers way before she did!

Why was Darius so slow in the relationship department? she wondered. Was he afraid of something? Did someone hurt him badly? Her doorbell chimed, bringing her back to the evening at hand. She took off her apron, straightened her suede skirt and went to answer the door.

“Hi, Cherish. You look beautiful.” Darius kissed her, then handed her a dozen yellow roses.

Cherish smiled. “You look very handsome. Thank you for the flowers.” She took the roses from his outstretched hand and inhaled deeply. “Come in.”

Cherish led him to her couch, and nodded approvingly at his corduroy green trousers and green cashmere sweater, knowing that both Curry and Darbi had given him fashion advice. “Would you like something to drink? I have some Sam Adams.” She headed for the kitchen.

“I didn’t think you liked beer,” he yelled so that she could hear him in the kitchen.

Soon Cherish returned with a tray. The tray held a bottle of beer, a frosted mug, a bottle of wine and a gold trimmed wine glass. Darius took the bottle of beer and the frosted mug. “Thank you, Cherish.”

“You’re welcome. How was your day?” Cherish asked as she sat by him. That really sounded lame, she thought.

“Pretty good,” Darius said as he opened the bottle of beer. “What are you doing Thanksgiving?” He poured the ale into the mug and waited for her answer.

Cherish poured a glass of wine, took a sip, letting the liquid soothe her nerves. Had it been a year already? “I really haven’t thought about it.”

“I want to invite you over for Thanksgiving dinner. Darbi will be over and Curry will be out of town, so I bet she could use the company.”

“Does Darbi know that Curry is going out of town?”

“I don’t think so. He’s going to tell her tomorrow night. He’s taking her to a hockey game.” Darius took a deep breath. “Since his last divorce, he goes home to Seattle for the major holidays. He says being around family makes the holidays hurt less.”

“The hockey game sounds like fun.” Cherish stood. “Shall we eat?”

He followed her to the dining room. The lighted candles and the flowers complemented the table. After he pulled out her chair for her, he sat down across from her. “This smells delicious, Cherish. I hope your culinary skills rub off on Darbi. Honestly, I don’t see how she made it in a marriage without cooking.”

Cherish nodded her thanks and began eating. Anything so she wouldn’t start blubbering like a schoolgirl at his compliment. No one ever praised her food before.

“Ready for dessert?” Cherish asked a little later.

“Why don’t you show me your sketches?”

Knowing it wasn’t man code for sex, Cherish got up and retrieved her leather portfolio case and joined him on the sofa. Cherish proudly showed Darius her portfolio, but she had a hard time concentrating. His cologne invaded her senses and penetrated her good judgment. She moved a little closer, hoping he would take the hint.

Cherish took the large leather portfolio case of out of his hands, and kissed him. “I thought we’d…talk.” She gave him her best seductive glance. She did everything but stand naked in front of him.

Darius breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I thought you were trying to get fresh with me,” he joked. He resumed looking at the sketches.

Frustrated, Cherish stomped off to the kitchen to get dessert. Before she returned to the living room, she opened the freezer compartment of the refrigerator and stood there several minutes. Feeling cool, calm and in charge of her world again, she grabbed the cheesecake and returned to Darius.

After they finished dessert, Cherish gave him a tour of her house. Though it wasn’t on the same scale as Darius’s, he seemed impressed with the two-story house. He held her hand as they walked from room to room. When they came to a closed door, Cherish didn’t offer an explanation or open it.

“What’s this room?” Darius grasped the doorknob, slightly opening the door.

Cherish took a deep breath. “It was my mother’s room. I can’t bear to go in there. I had to a few months ago, to finally clear her things out. It just still hurts so bad. I can still see her sitting up in bed in her favorite bed jacket, staring at me with that blank stare because she didn’t know who I was,” Cherish whispered.

Darius closed the door and stood directly in front of her and wrapped her in a tight hug. His strong body cradled her smaller one. “Cherish, if you want to talk, I understand. I’ve lost a parent. I know how that feels.”

Cherish stepped out of his embrace. “Thank you, Darius. That hug was what I needed.” That and a little more, she thought.

“How about Thanksgiving? Come over for dinner. Dad likes you.” Darius led her back downstairs.

Cherish nodded. Although she didn’t really remember the beginning stages with her mother, she could actually see that Otis Crawford was in his beginning stages. She cringed at the memories of the times when she was too busy to spend time with her mother. You can’t change the past, Cherish. She forced happy thoughts. Mr. Crawford appeared to be doing well. Between Darbi and the nurse, he exercised every day. It took that concerted effort, according to Darius, to keep his father active.

“I’d love to come over Thursday,” Cherish said. Perhaps this was her chance to make up for her mother.