Full Figured 14, page 20
The years passed, and they continued to perform together now and again. During their senior year of high school, Parish and Cynthia were scouted and offered a gospel recording contract opportunity. Parish declined, as her dream was to join the marines. Cynthia parted from her friend and promised she’d reunite with Parish when she got the marines out of her system. Cynthia kept her promise.
Not long after Kwame’s ordination, Cynthia introduced Parish to her husband, James. It was right after the church service ended one Sunday.
“Parish, I want you to meet my husband, James. James, this is Parish, the songbird that I’ve been telling you about.”
“Nice to meet you, James. Wait, are you the James Lattimore? The record producer James Lattimore?”
“Yes. That’s what my driver’s license says,” he chuckled.
“He is better at all things music than he is at telling jokes,” Cynthia said, clowning.
“Well, I’ve heard so much about you, Parish. I would love for you to join Cynthia in recording her sophomore album. I know she’d be honored to have you featured on it as well.”
“Wow. I am honored, and yet I don’t know what to say or how to feel.”
“Please say yes,” Cynthia pleaded.
With nervous breaths, Parish replied, “Y-Yes! I’d love to.”
The thought of actually recording a song for public consumption, which meant the public could judge her, frightened Parish. However, despite all the fear that overtook her, Parish was excited to take such a huge step in a direction that she had never thought was open to her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Eboneé and Kasim were in the midst of renewing their love for one another. The miscarriage and Eboneé’s decision to walk away from it all had upended everything that they’d thought they shared with one another. Eboneé had suggested that they try different activities other than sex as a way of reconnecting. None of the other four men that Eboneé had been with in her thirty-five years had had the ability to make her body do and feel the things that Kasim did. When Eboneé had divulged her experiences to Kasim, his manhood had surged. However, when she’d suggested they worked on their communication by refraining from sex for two weeks, he’d rejected Eboneé’s proposition immediately. How could he go from schtupping two to three times a day to abstinence?
But Eboneé knew this was necessary. Kasim began to pout. He was sure their fourteen-day flesh-and-bone hunger strike was going to be excruciating.
“How in God’s name will holding back your love from me help communication when our bodies have a language of their own and require constant social intercourse?”
As she listened to Kasim’s words, a tingle formed at the base of Eboneé’s skull and surged through her body. It was as if Kasim had cast a spell on her. Eboneé’s luscious parts throbbed. She took a long, deep breath and closed her eyes in an attempt to disengage from the spell that her body had succumbed to. “Kasim, as hard is this going to be for both of us, it is important that we learn to please one another with our mind and soul. Not just with our bodies,” she explained. “I love you and want everything that comes with you. Me thinking that you no longer wanted me and that leaving would have made you happy let me know something has been missing, and I want to find everything lost between us and put it in its rightful place.”
Despite the fact that they craved lovemaking and suffered from dizziness and headaches seemingly from a lack of it, Eboneé and Kasim engaged in activities that required them to communicate more frequently. They decided to use the cell phone and text messages to check on one another throughout the day only. They’d send “I love you” texts here and there. But other than that, all communication had to be done face-to-face. All their dates had to take place outside the house. They made sure this happened by finding new places to dine and shows to see. They avoid their usual date-night haunts, as they had found a way to explore one another’s bodies at all those places.
Although Eboneé was the one to initiate the 336-hour sexacation, she found herself struggling to stay afloat. Everything about Kasim began to turn her on to an alarming degree. The way he chewed his food, the way he walked in the door after work, stood at the toilet while using it, bent down and picked something up, the way his lips moved while he was talking. Kasim had a habit of licking his lips while speaking, and that alone was going to be what would make Eboneé cave. She had come to the point where it didn’t matter what he did; she just had to have him. In order for her not to throw in the towel, Eboneé did what she did best during times of need: she invited Parish to lunch so that her friend could talk her off the ledge.
“Hey, Parish. How are you doing?” Eboneé said as she took a seat. They were at Parish’s favorite restaurant on the Upper East Side.
“I am great. Can’t complain. I see you’re still suffering from withdrawals.” She snickered.
“Chile, I am a whole mess. Look at me sweating.” Eboneé wiped the perspiration from her forehead.
“Let me ask you a question. If your relationship isn’t based on sex, why is it so hard to abstain from it for fourteen little days? I don’t get it.”
“Because I enjoy making love to my man, and I don’t think it’s a crime. Or is it? Besides, it’s easy for you to say that. You’re married, and you have already gone through the growing pains of getting to know your husband.”
“To answer your question, no, it isn’t a crime at all. In fact, the Bible says it’s not good for man to be alone.”
Eboneé rolled her eyes. “Can you talk to me as your friend and not as the pastor’s wife? I thought we passed that stage a long time ago.”
Eboneé knew it wasn’t good for man to be alone, and she felt that “alone” was the reason why she had been struggling with denying herself a dose of Kasim. But she knew she was doing the right thing. As she mulled this over, she revisited in her mind her first encounter with Parish and her scriptures.
When they were first introduced, she didn’t take to Parish at all. Parish came off as a Bible-quoting, judgmental know-it-all. At the time Eboneé was the verification coordinator trainer for the department. She had worked for the agency for six years and had become the supervisor’s assistant. Eboneé pretty much did all the work, while her supervisor strolled the carpeted runway. The office was Kamentha’s catwalk. She was a beautiful woman. She was five feet nine, had full 32 DD breasts and a trained waist to match. Kamentha’s suntanned skin and wardrobe choices turned heads regularly. Eboneé often told Kamentha that modeling should have been her career of choice. But each time Kamentha frowned and noted that her fascination with food conflicted with a model’s lifestyle. What blew Eboneé’s mind was Kamentha didn’t look like she ate anything, and if she did, she stored the food in her backside.
Parish detested everything about Kamentha and made it known her first day on the job. During Parish’s three-week training session, she was assigned to work alongside Eboneé, and she wasted no time apprising Eboneé of her and God’s displeasure in everything that Kamentha stood for. Despite the fact that Parish had spent a day in her life with Kamentha, she “knew Kamentha’s kind,” or so she said, and she pointed out how Kamentha wasn’t right in God’s eyes. Eboneé refused to look down on anyone. She loved how God created everyone so that they were unique, and she could not fathom how Parish could be so into God and church and have a completely opposite perspective.
“You know, the Bible says women should adorn themselves in respectful attire. Our supervisor would never make it in heaven dressed like that,” Parish told Eboneé after about a week of training.
“For you to be such a spiritual person, you don’t show much love, do you?”
“I love everyone with the love of the Lord, but as a disciple of God, it is my responsibility to be an example and give correction when necessary.”
“Look, this isn’t your church home, and Kamentha is our supervisor. The only person that has the right to give correction in this here workplace is her and the other managers. I may not go to church every Sunday, but I will tell you, I have a relationship with God, and I know He accepts us as we are, and His love is what draws us to Him. So instead of looking down on His people, maybe you should try loving them and see how many more bees you can catch with honey than with the vinegar that you’ve spewed out of your mouth from the first day that we met.”
From that day forward, Parish had a different outlook on life and people. That was the the day that the bond between her and Eboneé was cemented. They’d developed a bond by sharing their beliefs, and this had allowed Parish to see that the person she’d become was someone she wasn’t too fond of.
“I apologize, Eboneé,” Parish said, jerking Eboneé out of her daydreaming. “My intention was not to come across as someone other than a friend. What I will say is, Kwame and I lived together for over a year, and we didn’t have sex until our wedding day. So, if we can do it for that long, you most definitely can make it through the rest of this week, or whatever time you have left of the fourteen days.”
“If I am not mistaken, you had just experienced something horrific, so sex would have been the furthest thing from you mind, so you can’t compare your experience to mine. How often do you two have sex now that you’re married, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“We’ve been married for some time now, so sex isn’t a necessity. However, we make sure to satisfy one another on special holidays and our birthdays.”
“You’re not serious, are you?”
“Sex doesn’t define us. We know who we are to one another, and we are happy.”
“There’s no way you’re happy penciling in sex.”
It dawned on Eboneé that Parish used sex as a controlling mechanism in her relationship with Kwame. Parish’s revelation about her sex life, or lack thereof, gave Eboneé all the impetus she needed to put an end to her and Kasim’s sexual hiatus. Eboneé refused to use sex to correct or make a change in her and Kasim’s relationship. And this made her want Kasim even more.
Eboneé made sure to make it home before Kasim arrived. She had moved in with him permanently and had renovated her own place and turned it into an office space. Eboneé took the roses Kasim had given her a week ago, plucked the petals, and made a trail from the front door to their bedroom with them. She collected all the candles that she had and placed them throughout the bedroom. Night was falling, so she lit a few candles and placed them along the trail of petals, then turned out all the lights. She then hopped in the shower, and after bathing, she used her body oils to lather herself up. Finally, she put on a pair of red pumps.
When Kasim made it through the front door, he followed the petals and found his fiancée lying across the bed, in anticipation of his arrival.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Things between Kasim and Eboneé had been incredible lately. She satisfied every area of his life. When he was ill, she became his doctor; when he was upset, she became his joy. If he had a problem, she’d assist with solving it. Kasim hadn’t ever met a woman of Eboneé’s caliber. He’d oftentimes envisioned being with a woman who at least had many of his mother’s characteristics. But Eboneé surpassed his expectations and then some.
And she’d helped him realize his deceased wife’s passing wasn’t his fault or even her fault. It was actually God’s will for their lives. This revelation had blown Kasim’s mind, because he’d undergone thousands of dollars of counseling, and still the guilt had weighed heavily on his heart. Eboneé had pointed out the fact that he’d said he fell in love with and married Zoya primarily because she had met his father. Eboneé had insisted that if Kasim had loved Zoya for herself, he would never have come to the States alone and left her behind in Nigeria, especially when she was expecting. He would have made sure she accompanied him to the United States. When he’d disagreed, she’d asked him if he would be comfortable leaving her for a long period of time in order to build a life for them. That question had scared Kasim; he couldn’t imagine his life without Eboneé in it. Waking up to her beautiful face was what made his life complete.
The one and only issue that still troubled Kasim was his and Eboneé’s to conceive and sustain a pregnancy. For this reason, he’d planned a perfect romantic getaway for the weekend of Valentine’s Day, which was right around the corner. He hoped to spend the weekend making love in a different place, and that place was a resort in the Catskill Mountains. Their new fertility doctor, Dr. Moultrie, had suggested a change of scenery, and Kasim had made it happen.
When Kasim got home from work on the Friday evening right before the Valentine’s Day, weekend, he found Eboneé in the living-room area. He couldn’t wait to tell her about their getaway. As it turned out, Eboneé had a Valentine’s Day surprise of her own.
“Good evening, gorgeous,” Kasim breathed as he embraced Eboneé and stared at her full lips.
She blushed. “Hey, baby. How was your day?”
“It just got better. I have a surprise for you.”
“And I have one for you,” she told him.
“Well, you can give it to me when we get to our destination.”
“Our destination?”
“Yes, my love.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes. Now, pack light. Matter of fact, just bring a change of clothes. With what I have in mind, you won’t need to cover that sexy body.” He palmed her bottom.
“Okay, Mr. Nasty. Can I give you my gift before we leave?”
“It can’t wait?”
“I don’t want it to.”
“If you insist.” He took a seat in his recliner, and Eboneé ran into the bedroom.
“Okay, close your eyes,” she squealed from the bedroom doorway. He obeyed, and Eboneé returned with a gift box in her hand and placed it on the table in front of Kasim. “Okay. Open your eyes.”
He grinned from ear to ear when he saw the gift box. Then he removed the red top. Tears threatened his eyes as he removed the picture frame that was inside the box. “Is this what I think it is?” he asked, his voice cracking, as he stared at the image in the frame.
“Yes, it is. We are having a baby. I am five weeks pregnant. That is the gestational and yoke sac that you’re looking at.” She pointed at the framed sonogram. “I heard our baby’s heartbeat,” she added.
Kasim had difficulty processing what Eboneé had said. He saw the sonogram and understood what had taken place, but he just couldn’t process it. His heart jumped, while his mind raced. And another part of him became riled up because Eboneé had gone to the doctor without telling him anything. She’d heard their unborn child’s heartbeat without him, and he had difficulty digesting it all.
“Kasim, baby, it’s okay. You can breathe. It’s really happening.”
“I-I’m breathing. When did you find out we were pregnant?”
“I figured you knew or had suspicions like I did. I had gained so much weight, and I didn’t have my period at all last month. So I waited until over a month had passed since my last period, and then I went to see a doctor, because I was afraid.”
“You could not have been that afraid if you assumed you were pregnant, went to see a doctor, and selfishly excluded me from experiencing it all with you.”
“I would never—”
“But you did, Eboneé. You knew how much this meant to me, and you kept it from me. I thought we were communicating about everything and not holding anything in or back.”
“Kasim, do you hear yourself? You are taking this out of context. After the miscarriage that I had, it was difficult for both of us in many ways. I wanted to be sure things were good, and that I was really pregnant, before I got excited or possibly upset either of us. How can you say I was selfish or held anything back?”
Kasim’s eyes glazed over as he tuned out the words spilling from Eboneé’s lips. And the more Eboneé explained, the more vexed he became. If he heard any more, he thought he might snap. He’d been trying hard not to pressure Eboneé about getting pregnant. He’d actually been following her lead and just allowing it to happen. They had planned to revisit working on things around the holidays, because they didn’t want to worry about getting pregnant and putting any more strain on things.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he said, then rose from the recliner. He stormed into the bathroom, with Eboneé right on his heels.
“What do you mean? You said we were going away for the weekend, Kasim.”
“Were going away. You’re pregnant, so we cannot go.” He then slammed the door behind him.
“Why not? This is supposed to be one of the happiest days of our lives,” Eboneé said through the closed door.
“It is, but you cannot go out now. The sun is going down, and darkness isn’t good for the baby, Eboneé,” he shouted through the door.
Kasim was indeed elated that they were expecting. He just had to shower to wash away the frustration that was consuming him. He didn’t want to upset Eboneé any further, especially with her being with child. Kasim’s mom used to say that when a mom-to-be was upset, this affected the baby, who would be born fussy. Although he’d been looking forward to their getaway, Kasim had made the decision to put it off until tomorrow afternoon. In Nigeria, expecting mothers were forbidden from walking at sunrise or late at night, as this put them at risk of spirits possessing the babies. Eboneé strongly disagreed with Kasim’s superstitions, and this issue had caused one too many disagreements between the two of them.
“Kasim, how in the world will me going out in the morning or the evening bring spirits to our unborn child?”
“Because there aren’t many people out in the morning or late in the evening. It is easier for spirits to attach themselves to you when there is no hustle and bustle of people coming and going.”
