Page 16 of Caught off Guard

We sat on the phone in comfortable silence for several seconds.

“I look forward to your visit.”

“I do too. Good night, Cairo.”

“Good night, Zora.”

I hung up and settled into bed, saying my nightly prayers. Within what felt like seconds, I was asleep.

Cece and I jogged along a familiar trail near the first home we bought on the outskirts of Tampa, Florida, where I played with the Tampa Tornadoes. Beads of sweat popped off our faces as Cece and I maintained a steady pace along the beach.We chatted about everything and nothing. Cece tried to keep up with me but couldn’t. I finally stopped and stared at her. Instead of being my youthful bride, she was pale and frail, with a navy-blue turban covering her bald head.

“You have to keep running,” she said, her hands on her knees.

I reached to pick her up. She suddenly straightened her body and shielded her birdlike chest with her hands.

“No, Cairo. I’m not going to finish this race with you. She is.” Cece pointed behind me.

I turned as a thick fog suddenly appeared along the path before me. I didn’t see anyone at first, but slowly, a vision in white appeared, walking toward me with open arms.It was Zora.

I woke up with a start. I rarely dreamed about Cece, but when I did, what she said or did made a lasting impression on me. I lay back on my pillows, staring into the darkness for another hour, grieving my wife but keenly aware that my physical and emotional response to Zora Langston was real. I closed my eyesand eventually settled my mind, dreaming of Zora’s smile and sweet scent in my sleep.

MASK OFF

Thursday night,Lena and I sat on my king-sized bed, catching up on life and the day. Since I’d become president and my schedule was packed, pop-up slumber parties like this were the primary way we stayed connected outside our jobs and lives. Since I was always “on call” and didn’t like being far from my home on the nights I was in town, she spent the night at my house every time we gathered.

Cairo texted me earlier in the evening, but I didn’t want to get too distracted by an exchange that might fluster me.

When Lena went to the bathroom, I texted Cairo back. With each text message exchange, I felt unexpected butterflies andimagined how fine he looked in casual clothes as he walked around his house. When he called, I considered sending it to voicemail. That didn’t make sense since he knew I was close to my phone. I took a big breath and answered in my work voice.

If voices could impregnate people, his luscious one would have me pregnant with triplets. To retain my composure, I kept our conversation short. When we took care of business to my satisfaction, I hung up, blushing and smiling behind my hands. That man had me too giddy. Before I could compose myself, my sister returned.

“Good night, Cairo,” she mocked. “Y’all are talking on the phone now? Wow, you move fast.”

Busted.

“Tell me what happened with y’all again. Slowly.”

My dramatic twin plopped on my bed. She crossed her legs and propped her elbows on her knees, smiling at me with her fists on her chin like I was the official keeper of the world’s biggest secret. Although I offered general information about the surprise donor announcement and our office meeting, she poked and prodded me as if what I said wasn’t sufficient.

“He also confirmed that we will be his guests at this weekend’s Torch game. I’m going over for my staycation at his home tomorrow too.”

“I’m already in love with him. He is going to turn my sissy out.” She giggled.

“Girl, stop. The man donated that money in honor of his late wife Cece, who he still loves very much. You should have heard the sincerity in his voice as he talked about her in my office. He cherished her like a man should honor his wife. He is not coming for me like that.”

Lena made a Catholic cross over her chest.

“God rest Ms. Cece’s sweet soul, but she’s not coming back. Cairo Kinney needs another woman to warm his bed at night.One who is thicker than a Snicker.” She covered her mouth with her hands before pointing at me. “Something tells me that might be you.” She screamed and fell back on the bed.

When she calmed down, I pushed my eyeglasses on my nose and gave Lena my most serious look.

“Stop looking at me like Mama,” she said.

“Ma’am, you are almost forty-three years old and are acting like a child. We Langston girls know better.”

“No…We Langston girls are freaks who love to party and know how to get down.”

To demonstrate, Lena hopped on her feet and twerked on my legs, which hung over the side of the bed. I pushed her off me but couldn’t help but laugh at her antics. She wasn’t lying about us. Back in the day, folks called us the Luscious Langston Twins. We always had a fine man on our arms and in Lena’s case, between her legs.

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