On the five-hour drive back to the Atlanta metro area, Marcia and I trail each other in our respective cars, stopping occasionally along the way to eat or walk around at a rest area. The feeling of her body against mine is still fresh, very fresh, and I feel as though I can’t get enough of being around her. I hate that we are in different cars, but we have maintained a constant cell phone conversation the entire time.
When we reach her house, I help her unload her car, but just as we get to the front door, she stops and faces me, her face suddenly unsure.
“Chucky, there’s something I have to tell you.”
The doubt from last night resurfaces so quickly that I can feel my heart throbbing in my stomach. “Okay.”
“I don’t really know how else to say this, but I have a boyfriend.”
I shake my head, disoriented by her words. “What does that mean? I mean, we spent all last night and today together. I don’t get it. How do you have a boyfriend?” I’m not sure if any of these questions even make sense, but in my mind they make about as much sense as what she has just told me.
“It’s complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
“Have a seat,” she says, pointing to the couch in her den.
“I don’t feel like sitting down,” I say.
“Please,” she says resignedly.
She walks over and sits next to me, so I lower myself onto the couch.
“I really like you,” I say.
“I really like you, too.”
“How can you really like me when you have a boyfriend?”
“That’s why it’s so complicated.”
I shake my head. “At least try to explain all of this to me. You have me kind of out there right now. The least you can do is help me get back to shore.”
She nods and takes a deep breath. “Have you ever heard of a Rumspringa?”
“Are you talking about when Amish teens go out to experience the real world before coming back to the community?”
She nods again.
“Are you Amish?”
“No.”
“So what does that have to do with anything?” I ask.
She sighs. “I have been with my boyfriend for the past fifteen years, ever since high school.” She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, reaching for the best words. “He’s the only man that I have ever been with—up until you.”
I nod, encouraging her to continue.
“We’ve been talking about getting married, but we both felt that we needed to sleep with other people before we took that step.”
“That doesn’t make a lick of sense. Who does that?”
“Please, Chucky. I need you to keep an open mind. I’m telling you something that I’ve never told anyone, not even Lailah.”
“Well, tell me everything. Don’t beat around the bush. You owe me at least that much.”
“You’re right,” she says. She sighs again before opening her mouth. “We both decided that if we were going to pledge the rest of our lives to each other, we had to know that we had gotten everything out of our systems. When you’ve only been with one person in your entire life, there’s a lot that you’re curious about.”
“So I’m a curiosity?”
“No. Well, not entirely.”
I stand to leave, but she takes my hand and gently tugs it. “Please sit.”
Reluctantly, I take my seat next to her.
“Okay. Well, I have some questions then.”
“Fine. Shoot.”
“How many men have you been with during this Rumspringa?”
“I already told you. Just you.”
“And how long does this thing last?”
“Until the end of this month.”
“So just two more weeks then?”
“Yes.”
“Then what?” I ask.
“Then my boyfriend and I will get together to find out the next step with our relationship.”
This time I’m the one who is sighing. My mind is running so fast it feels as though it’s not moving at all. I want to run from this crazy woman, but I am also wanting to be with her again. Even in the oddness of her confession, the irony that we both have only been with one other person sexually is not lost on me. The difference is that this is not my Rumspringa. It’s hers.
“Did you enjoy yourself this weekend?” I ask, not knowing what else to say.
“Yes. Did you?”
“Of course. But what did you like about it?”
“You’re fun to talk to. You know how to make my body feel good. You’re sexy as hell. What else do you want me to say?”
“How did I make you feel—emotionally?”
At this she blushes. “I like you.”
“Yeah, you said that earlier. How do you like me?”
She nibbles on her bottom lip and looks away.
“See, the difference between what you’re telling me and what I’m feeling for you is this: I want you. And nobody else,” I say.
“I want you, too, but it’s not really up to me.”
“How is it not up to you?”
“I’ve been with him for fifteen years. He knows me better than anyone else in this world.”
“Well, that’s only because you haven’t given me a chance.”
She shakes her head, exasperated, and says to no one in particular, “This wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”
“What? The sex or the feelings?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
“Well, your boyfriend is on Rumspringa, too, right?”
She nods.
“So how do you know what he’s experiencing?”
“I don’t, and I won’t.”
“How do you know that he isn’t catching feelings for someone else, too?”
“I don’t know, but I know it wouldn’t be fair to him if I did.”
“That doesn’t make sense, though.”
“Chucky, with all due respect, it doesn’t really have to make sense to you.”
I nod. “You’re right.”
I look at her as she sits there, and even though she is wearing a perturbed expression, she is still beautiful. I can still imagine the look on her face when she smiles or laughs at my jokes or climaxes atop me. I don’t want to give up this easily. Although I am new to all of this, I am quickly beginning to understand the kind of man I am in a situation like this.
“I’ll tell you what,” I say. “You have two more weeks, right?”
“Yes.”
“Spend those next two weeks with me.”
“What good would that do?”
“At least you know that you’ll enjoy the rest of your Rumspringa. Plus, it’s safer to be with just one person during this period. I have only had one other lover in my life, and I’m clean. Plus, I know we get along. You’re an Afro Nerd, too. You know this.”
She smiles. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“What if I fall deeper for you?”
“Then you won’t be alone in that feeling.”
She stares at me for a moment, and I cannot tell if she is going to embrace me or kick me out of her place.
“Okay,” I say, beginning to feel her slipping away from me. “Let me just ask you one more question.”
“Fine.”
“Have you done everything that you wanted to do with me? I’d hate for you to leave something on the table if this was just a weekend thing.”
“Are you asking me if I’d like to have sex with you again?”
“Well, that’s one way of looking at it.”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
This answer throws me off. In the past twenty-four hours we have had sex nine times, and all of them have been spectacular—at least from what I was able to observe. I wonder what J or Akil or Cool or even Dizzy would do in a situation like this. Would they cut their losses? Who cares what they would do, though? I am my own person. The real question is what will I do?
“Marcia, follow me on this.”
She nods.
I lean over and kiss her gently upon her lips and feel her tongue flutter softly against mine. I place my hand along the side of her face, cupping her jaw as our kiss deepens. I lower my kiss to her neck, and whisper to her, “I am going to make love to you right now. If you don’t want this, feel free to stop me.”
I keep waiting for her to stop me, but when I finally enter her, I realize that we are both exactly where we want to be.