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Guy Sparks was driving north on I-85 in his convertible Porsche, which could only be driven in half-decent weather because of its broken top. Since it was such a pretty day, he decided to drive to his mother’s fifty-fifth birthday party. He was halfway to his mother’s house when his car stalled, and just as he pulled off the side of the road into a construction zone, the rain came. First there was a light drizzle, then an all-out storm. Rather than sit in the ever-so-quickly flooding car, Guy popped the face off the CD player and began to hop out.
He couldn’t have found a worse place for his car to stop. As he opened the door, he stepped into a puddle of mud. Guy slammed the car door, cursed under his breath, and trotted toward the red-and-white QT gas sign that hovered above the exit about half a mile away.
As his soaked gray linen pants and white silk shirt clung to his body, making him miserable, his luck changed. Through the pouring rain Guy noticed the lights of a white sports car pull over onto the shoulder of the road up in front of him. As he approached the car, the passenger window rolled down.
“Is everything all right?” a soft Caribbean voice asked.
“Nah, my car broke down and I—”
“Would you like a ride?”
“If you don’t mind, I’m—”
“Get in before you catch a cold,” the soft voice stated in a motherly tone.
Once inside the car, Guy glanced over at the driver and thought, I must be dreaming. Her pleasant smile immediately changed his mood. Without her saying another word, he felt something for the sista sitting behind the wheel. He appreciated her caring side already, but he found it a bit hard to put his mack down with a broken car and soggy feet.
“If you could give me a ride to this QT up here, I’d appreciate it.”
“It’s no problem.”
“What’s your name?” he asked, trying not to shiver as his body adjusted to the air-conditioned car.
“Terri, and yours?” she said as she slid into drive, never second-guessing her decision to pick up this strange man.
“Guy Sparks, but everyone calls me G. I’ll be happy to have your car cleaned for you. I’m making a mess,” he said, looking down at the orange Georgia clay mud dripping from his black Nautica sandals onto her navy floor mats.
“That’s fine, don’t worry about that,” Terri said, waving him off. “You have a nice name.”
“Ya think so?”
“Yeah… I do.”
“Well, thanks.”
“I take it that you are having car problems.”
“Yeah, I guess she’s seen better days.”
“Aren’t you going to put your top up?”
“It’s broken,” he said, not even trying to make up a lie. “Where are you from?” Guy asked, pondering her accent.
“Born in Jamaica, raised in Canada.” She smiled and pulled off the exit ramp and into the QT parking lot.
“Thanks a lot. How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing. You didn’t ask; I offered. Glad I could help.”
“It’s kind of dangerous picking up strange people on the side of the highway. You shouldn’t do that,” Guy said seriously.
“Nothing is going to happen to me. I’m protected by the essence of God. Plus I have my girlfriend with me,” Terri said as she opened her thick thighs and stroked the top of a .22 Derringer handgun that rested near her love nest. Looking at her toned legs, it was obvious that she frequented her neighborhood gym.
Guy chuckled. “That lil’-ass gun ain’t gonna do nothing but piss somebody off.”
Terri smiled back at him with her pearly whites. Her complexion was a flawless dark chocolate. Her hair was cut close in a Nubian sista kind of way, no perm, all naturaaal. She had thick lips and Guy noticed that she bit the bottom one on and off, out of habit or nervousness. Guy wasn’t sure which one it was, but either way when she did that, he had to turn away to keep from getting too excited.
“I’m not in the business of hurting anyone. Just keep enough to make ’em say ouch,” Terri said as she gave Guy a friendly wink.
“Well, thanks for the ride. Can I give you my number? Maybe you’ll reconsider my offer once you try to clean this mess that I made,” Guy said casting his line.
“Sure! Just as long as I don’t have to explain to anyone why I’m calling.” He sensed that was her way of asking if he lived alone or if he was seeing someone.
“Now that might be a problem.”
“Oh, really?” Terri asked, eyebrows raised.
“My son is four years old, and he likes to screen my calls.”
“Does his mother help him out from time to time?” Terri asked, eyebrows arched, lips twisted.
“Nah, he handles that on his own.”
“Are you married?” Terri asked, pulling her ink pen back toward her B cups.
“No! Now, would I offer you my home number if I were married?”
“It’s happened before.”
“Nah, it’s just me and my little man.”
A skeptical look came across her face, and then her eyes brightened again as if a small voice inside her said, Take the tall, brown-skinned brother’s number.
“Okay,” Terri said as she handed him the ink pen and two business cards for Nubian Town Bookstore. “So you’re a single daddy raising your child alone?”
“Yes, and no. I have a lot of help from my mom. That’s where I was headed. Today’s her birthday and the family is giving her a party.”
“Oh, how sweet. What’s your son’s name?”
“Jordan.”
“Like Mike?”
“Yeah, and he thinks he has a lil’ game, too.”
“Too cute,” Terri said as her eyes drifted off to another time and place. “What are you going to do here at the QT?” she asked as her mind snapped back to the here and now.
“I was going to call someone to come and get me.”
“Where does your mom live?”
“Gwinnett County, off Beaver Ruin.”
“I’ll take you.”
“Nah, you’ve done enough. I don’t want to take you all out of your way. I’m cool. Just give me a call,” Guy said as he opened the door to get out.
“It’s not out of my way, I live one exit past that on Pleasanthill. Now close the door. You’re letting the rain in. And I know you wanna make it to your mother’s party on time, don’t you?”
Guy glanced over at her gas needle, which was just below a quarter of a tank. “All right. Pull over to the pump. I have to do something for you. I’ll fill you up, and run and call a tow truck.”
Terri nodded and pulled up to the pump. Guy filled her car and called the towing service; they jumped back on the freeway headed north on I-85. On a normal day the trip would take fifteen minutes, but Atlantans always lost their damned minds when it started raining and drove at a snail’s pace. During the forty-five-minute drive, Guy and Terri found they had a few things in common. They were both Pisceans, born two years and three days apart. Terri was the older one, she was twenty-nine; Guy was twenty-seven. They shared the same philosophy on being self-sufficient and not depending on someone else to take care of their individual needs. They both enjoyed reading African American fiction. She owned a bookstore but was thinking of selling.
“So you know my status. What’s yours?” Guy asked.
“Single. Been that way for the last year and a half. Don’t have any kids yet, but I love ’em. Proud owner of a chocolate Labrador retriever named Sable,” Terri rattled off.
“So why are you thinking of selling your store?”
“Competition’s too strong. I can’t discount like the chains and still keep the lights on.”
“Sure you can; we just have to get creative.”
She smiled, looked at the brown-skinned brother with the short twisted braids and perfect teeth and shook her head. She knew he was a total stranger, but when he mentioned the word we it made her feel like she wasn’t fighting this thing called life, alone!
“I’m going to give it another year. If nothing changes, then I’m out. Add it to the long list of other things that didn’t pan out.”
“So what are your other options?” he asked.
“Pray! And hope for the best.”
“I hear you.”
“So, Guy. What do you do for a living?”
“Well, right now I’m looking,” he said, but immediately noticed that not-another-broke-brother look on her face. “No, no, no, it’s not what you think. I play pro basketball over in Europe, but I’m tired of being away from my son. I have enough change put away to start my own business, so I’m looking for a second career of sorts.”
“Okay!” She dragged that word out like she had before when he tried to give her his number. “You know I can’t stand a lazy brother who won’t live his life.”
“The feeling is mutual. I like a sister who does her thing. Can’t take a sister sitting around waiting with her hand out. Those are the ones that get nada.”
“Nada?”
“Not a damned thing!” They shared a brief laugh.
“Okay!” Terri said, giving him a high five. “Hard as I work, I’d be damned if I let someone sit around and live off me.”
“I feel ya!”
“You seem to be a pretty cool guy.”
“And you’re way too nice, plus you’re cute. Yo, you wanna come to my mom’s party?”
“Do you see how I’m dressed?” Terri asked with horror as she opened her arms to show her jean shorts and a white spaghetti-strapped halter with DELTA SIGMA THETA stitched across the front. “I just ran up to the store because the alarm was set off. I’m not prepared for a party.”
“You said you didn’t live far. How long could it take you to get dressed?”
Terri briefly contemplated his offer, biting her bottom lip the whole time. “Nah, I better pass. Maybe another time. Thanks for the offer, though,” she said as she playfully slapped his leg. With the exception of their quick little handshake, that was their first touch. Guy felt something, a connection. He wanted to see more of this sista. He believed in fate: his car breaking down, Terri just riding by. As far as he was concerned, this meeting was no coincidence.
“There is not going to be another time. My mom will only turn fifty-five once. Plus, I know she’ll wanna meet the woman that saved her only child from catching pneumonia.”
“Only child! Spoiled!”
“Only child, yeah! Spoiled, a little.”
“So you’re used to getting what you want?”
“No! I want you to come to this party with me, but it doesn’t look like that’s happening. Here, get off on this exit,” Guy said as he pointed to the Beaver Ruin sign.
After a few more turns they were pulling into Guy’s mother’s driveway. They sat in the car a few minutes and enjoyed the sound of the rain pounding against the windshield and the wipers slapping back and forth.
“So… will I hear from you soon?”
“Yeah, I’ll call you. You better get out of those wet clothes before you get sick.”
“Do you wanna come in for just a second and meet everyone?”
Terri opened up her arms again to show how inappropriately she was dressed and twisted her lips.
“All right, you can slide this time. Thanks for the ride.”
Funny how one minute you can be total strangers with someone and feel so close to them the next, Guy thought as they made serious eye contact.
Terri shifted in her seat and said, “ ’Bye, G.”
“Okay, Terri. Call me.”
Guy let himself out, jogged to the side door, and disappeared. Terri sat for a few minutes and tried to gather herself. It had been a long time since she had that I-like-that-boy feeling. After a few minutes of sitting there smiling, she shook it off, put her car in reverse, and drove home.
Guy and all his relatives were laughing and talking loud when Terri walked in. The CD blasted something by Carl Thomas. There were a few older people playing cards at the kitchen table, and a few of the younger ones were playing dominoes on the island that separated the dining room from the great room.
Guy didn’t notice her but Terri spotted him right away. He was straddling the arm of a love seat with a handsome little almond-colored boy standing between his legs.
That has to be Jordan, she thought. He looks just like his father.
Terri was standing in the doorway when Uncle Willie pounced on her.
“Come on, gurl. Lemme see whatcha got,” Uncle Willie said as he did his version of the George Jefferson dance. The one where he frowns up and acts as if he is about to fight, arms flailing all around and feet sliding every which way.
“No, thank you,” Terri said, never bothering to move.
The younger kids who were playing dominoes at the island stopped what they were doing and shouted in unison, “She ain’t ready, she ain’t ready, she ain’t ready…”
Guy turned around to see what the commotion was all about. He chuckled at the sight of a confused-looking Terri. He decided he’d try to rescue his new friend. He made his way over to Terri and smiled. Uncle Willie was still dancing. Guy tapped him on the shoulder and asked if he could cut in.
“What?” Uncle Willie turned around as if he was really about to fight. “Boy, don’t get knocked out on my sista’s birthday. I ain’t know who you was grabbin’ all up on me.” Uncle Willie cracked a smile, exposing about five missing teeth.
“I see that you met Uncle Willie,” Guy said to Terri.
“G-man, this you?”
“Yeah, she’s with me, Uncle Willie.”
“Got damn, boy. You got taste like your uncle. Ya auntie use to have an ass—I mean—look like that. I don’t usually like women with all they hair cut off but… give me ya number,” Uncle Willie said as he extended his hand.
“Watch out, man,” Guy said as he playfully pushed his uncle to the side.
“Boy, don’t make me pull it out,” Uncle Willie said as he placed his hand over his pocket for the same elusive knife he had been pulling out for the last ten years.
“Ima take you to the barber shop and cut that mess out of your head,” Guy said, referring to Uncle Willie’s Jheri curl, which wrapped around his bald top.
“Oh no, that’s my love jones,” Uncle Willie said as he walked off, no longer smiling, and patting the side of his greasy hair.
“Well, all right then. Uncle Willie is something else,” Terri said as she followed Guy back toward the sitting area.
“Tell me about it.”
“Are you surprised to see me?”
“Yeah, I didn’t expect to see you. You look nice,” Guy said as he glanced down at Terri’s yellow strapless sundress, which exposed her coffee-brown shoulders.
“You don’t look bad yourself,” Terri said as she reached up and pulled a black thread from Guy’s shirt.
“Thank you. What made you change your mind?”
“I got home and decided not to have another boring Saturday night.”
Since he wasn’t able to tell how tall she was in the car, Guy was surprised at how short Terri was. He was six foot five inches tall, she was maybe five foot even. But her beauty was not to be denied; whoever made up that saying that good things come in small packages must have been thinking about Terri.
“Well, I’m glad you did,” Guy said with a big grin.
“I can tell. Stop cheesing.”
“Whatever. Come on over here and meet my mom and my son.”
Terri followed. She was not nervous like she was every time she met one of her previous boyfriends’ parents. Maybe it was because Guy wasn’t her boyfriend.
“Mom, this is Terri, the young lady who rescued me today.”
“Hi, I’m Thelma. Thank you for picking up my baby. I told him to get rid of that piece of junk.”
“It’s a classic,” Guy stated flatly.
“A classic piece of junk,” Thelma whispered to Terri as they shared a laugh. “Did you eat?”
“Not yet. What do you have?”
“Oh, Boney, I like this girl. Ain’t too cute to eat. Fix her a plate.”
“Boney? I thought you said everyone calls you G.”
“Whatever! And this fellow here is Jordan,” Guy said as he reached down and picked up his son. Jordan didn’t speak, he just laid his head on his father’s shoulder.
“Hi, handsome.”
Jordan lifted his head and waved.
“He’s sleepy. Give him here,” Thelma said as she took her grandson. “Terri, I saw my brother dancing with you. Don’t pay him any mind. He snuck out of the mental hospital about a week ago. Go on and get yourself something to eat. I’m going to put this lil’ rascal to bed.”
“It was nice meeting you,” Terri said.
“Yeah, girl. We’ll talk,” Thelma said as she walked off.
“Okay. ’Bye, Jordan,” Terri said, waving at the sleepy child.
Guy led her into the kitchen, where Terri instinctively took over. She fixed both of them a plate, and they headed for the quietness of the sunroom, which was adjacent to the kitchen.
Before they knew it two hours had passed and all the guests were gone. Guy walked Terri out to her car, and they hugged; he stole a kiss on the cheek. She promised she would call when she arrived home. He headed back into the house, and turned on the television in the sunroom, and soaked up the scent that she left behind. After Terri called to say all was well, he drifted off to sleep.
The rain was coming down hard. Guy heard a knock on the window of the sunroom. He stood up to answer, wearing nothing but his silk boxers. Terri’s yellow sundress was soaked. Her hair dripped little drops of rain into her chocolate face. She was breathing hard as she motioned for him to come out onto the deck. He followed her outside as the thunder exploded and the trees cracked. As the moon illuminated the night, Guy found himself standing on the deck in only his white silk boxers, which the rain had made practically see-through. Terri pulled a lawn chair from beneath the table and motioned for him to sit down. He was a little confused but decided to let her take the lead. Terri’s nipples clearly showed through the sundress, and the rain made the thin fabric cling to her body. She lifted her dress as she straddled Guy and stuck her tongue into his mouth. With the rain rolling off their lips and sliding into their mouths, her breathing became heavy. He rubbed his hands down her back, over her ass, and felt her heat as his fingers grazed across her love nest.
It was raining hard but the wetness he felt was different. It was thicker, warmer, juicier. Terri rolled her hips slowly back and forth on his lap as she ran her tongue across the wide of his face. She ripped the top of her dress apart, tearing the buttons off as she pushed his head down toward her firm breasts. As he sucked on her nipples, she moaned and ran her fingers through his hair. Her hands found their way down to his already growing manhood. She stroked her fingers up and down until his moans matched hers. Guy pushed her dress up around her waist and lifted her enough to enter her. She gasped, held on tighter as she felt her emptiness being filled with his rocklike manhood. Guy closed his eyes and moved with her. One arm was still around her waist, the other stroking her ass. Terri’s moans became louder as she buried her head into his shoulder. The rain was coming down harder as Guy stood up with Terri still in his arms and laid her down on the glass table. He stood between her legs, grinding a long, slow grind. She wrapped her legs around his waist and slowly ran her fingernails down his rippled chest. Terri reached up and pulled Guy’s head down so that they were eye to eye and began speaking in French, “Faites-l’amour moi,” then she let out a soft scream and held him tighter. Guy let out a moan and the thunder rocked the night.
“Boney… Boney… Boney…” Thelma called out to her son.
“Yeah, Ma!”
“Wake up. Telephone. It’s Terri.”
Guy grabbed the phone and heard that familiar accent. “Hello, lady. I was just dreaming about you.”
“I dreamed about you last night, too.”
“Was it raining in your dream?”
“Don’t remember, but I did feel some thunder.”