Time To Grow Up

By Willie H. Gibbs

Stephen Walton is a high school senior at Michael Barmen High School. Stephen has always loved his childhood friend and confidant, Michelle Parks. Stephen and Michelle are attending the Barmen Senior Prom. While in the back of the limousine, he noticed her mood had changed drastically after leaving Michelle's house to go to the prom. He question

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aspire Publishing Hub, LLC
• Release date: Jan 31, 2024
• ISBN: 9781962611510

Book preview

9781962611510-cover.jpg

WILLIE H. GIBBS

Time To Grow Up

Copyright © 2024 by Willie H. Gibbs

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

ISBN

978-1-962611-50-3 (Paperback)

978-1-962611-51-0 (eBook)

978-1-962611-49-7 (Hardcover)

Table of Contents

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter XI

Chapter XII

Chapter XIII

Chapter XIV

Chapter XV

Chapter XVI

Chapter XVII

Chapter XVIII

Chapter XIX

Chapter XX

Chapter I

After the long day of celebrating our wedding day, all I wanted to do was get to the honeymoon suite with my beautiful bride. The chauffeur opened the door of the snow-white limo and gently escorted my wife out of it. The door attendant summoned for a bell hop to come by and pick up our luggage. As we entered the lobby we were greeted by a chorus of cheers as we made our way through the soft brown marbled lobby of the Crownman Essex Hotel. We approached the registration desk and checked in to our honeymoon suite. The desk clerk told Yolanda and me the suite number while handing me the card key and informed us that our luggage would arrive within the next ten minutes.

Yolanda did look radiant in her off white wedding gown. I just wanted to make sure I did not step on the train because if I did, I would never live that moment down. The three of us managed to fit in the elevator; Yolanda, the wedding train on the gown, and me. She carefully gathered up her gown while checking the floor of the dark rusted color carpeted elevator floor and let the door closed. We were finally alone with the elevator music playing softly in the background. I wanted to get a little closer to my new wife. She looked up and smiled at me and leaned in for a kiss. I was all but so happy to oblige her. Love you. She said to me as she smiled after the kiss. Love you, too.

She gently lifted her gown off the carpeted elevator floor and began to walk off the elevator. I looked down long enough to make sure that her train dress did not get caught in the elevator. Just as the doors of the elevator were about to close, I pulled her train out of the elevator. She quickly looked around to make sure it did not get caught in the elevator. I showed her that I had it in my hand. She let out a large sigh of relief. Thank you, baby. I just nodded at her letting her know that she was welcome. We looked upon the wall for the direction to the suite.

Our suite number was 1002, which mean we had to go left and down the hall to get to the room. When we arrived at the door of the room, I began to search for the card key in my pocket. I found it and opened the door. I walked in before she did. Somehow, I felt like something was missing something. And I was right, it was my wife. She stood outside the doorway with her arms folded and with a hint of attitude. Aren’t you forgetting something? I stood there briefly puzzled, and then it hit me. But I decided to have a little fun with her. I began to fumble around in my pants pockets looking for my keys. She shifted her stance in the doorway finding very little humor in my clumsy comic routine. I finally gave in. Okay, so what am I forgetting?

You are supposed to carry me, your new bride, over the threshold of the doorway. It’s a tradition.

I guess if I have too. You did lose the bet to marry me and all.

That is right. So, let’s go buster. She told me as she extended her arms out for me to carry her across the threshold. I picked my bride up and carried her into the suite and was rewarded with a kiss for my efforts. Yolanda and I started looking around in the suite.

The suite was nothing short of beautiful. The walls were a soft coral color with artwork that complimented the suite nicely. The suite had off white wall to wall carpeting throughout the entire suite. The soft burgundy living room set was arranged cater-corner from the window that overlooks the nighttime silhouette of the forest.

Stephen, come here, baby. Yolanda called out from the bedroom. There was a huge California king-size bed in the room with a bucket of champagne on the nightstand. There was a blue-ribbon note tied around the neck of the bottle that read; Compliments of the Crownman Essex. Congratulations. There was a knock on the door.

That must be our luggage. Yolanda commented. I opened the door, and it was a young white bellhop with our suitcases and garment bags loaded onto a gold luggage rack. How are you doing this evening, Mr. Walton? Where should I put your bags?

Would you put them in the bedroom, please?

Will do, Mrs. Walton. He carefully wheeled the cart through the door and into the bedroom. I reached into my pocket and tipped him a ten-dollar bill.

Thank you and congratulations on your wedding day. He told me as he left the room. Thank you. Yolanda was searching for her garment bag for her wedding dress. I found my garment bag for my tux and headed off to the bathroom to change into my pajamas. Baby, would you mind if I went first? Yolanda asked in a pleading tone. It’s going to take me a lot longer to get out of this dress than it will for you to get out of your tux."

Baby, I’m tired of wearing this monkey suit.

I know you are. But I will make it worth your while. She told me as she slowly ran her French polished nails on the side of my face, and she leaned up to kiss me.

Okay, fine. I will just change out here.

Thank you she told me as she gave me a kiss on the cheek and went off into the restroom.

I looked for my garment bag and found it. I unzipped my black garment bag with the small tux character logo on the front of it and placed it on the bed. I finished undressing and putting my tux in the garment bag. I saw two doors that stood together. I grabbed the handles and pulled the door towards me, and they opened.

They revealed a closet that was huge. I mean, I have heard of a walk-in closet, but this was ridiculous. This was like another room of the suite, but not quite. I hung my garment bag on the clothes rack and brought the other luggage into the closet with me. This closet had its own sitting bench where you would be able to sit down and take your shoes off in it along with just getting dressed inside of it. I closed the door and finished getting dressed for bed. I looked in my suitcase and found my pajamas and put them on.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see the light going off in the bedroom. I finished putting on my pants and opened the closet door to see what was going on. The pale moonlight cast its romantic light from the glass door of the balcony patio onto the bed.

And there she was lying on the bed by her side. She had a look of subtle desire in her eyes as if she knew this night would come and she was indeed looking forward to it.

My eyes glide from the top of her short-feathered haircut to her white-laced teddy that looked like it was sprayed painted on her cinnamon-colored body with the matching silk coat. I checked out her well-toned legs all the way down to her cherry polished toenails on her pedicure feet. Excuse miss, how did you get into my room? I asked in mock confusion. She played along with me and answered in a seductive tone, Your door was open, and it was chilly in the hallway. You really should be more careful about locking your door. Anyone could walk in on you.

So, I see. I said as I kept my eyes on her as I walked around the bed.

Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Alexis, Alexis Cantle. And I already know who you are Mr. Roger Peoples. Wow…she even produced a name for me. Oh well, might as well go with it.

"I saw you coming into the hotel earlier this evening with a lady. Is she your wife?

Unfortunately, she is. We were supposed to be celebrating our wedding anniversary. But we had a bad argument on our way here to the hotel from Chicago. All we seem to do lately is argue.

I’m so sorry to hear that especially on your anniversary. I saw you walk into the hotel from the bar. With you being so handsome and all, I just had to find out who you were. So, I talked to the hotel manager that happens to be an old college friend of mine. She told me who you were and what room you would be staying in. I thought we could get to know one another a little better, if that is okay with you?

Isn’t that illegal for the management to give out a person’s information without their consent? Only if you’re caught doing it. She said with a hint of a smirk on her face.

I mean, if my presence here poses a problem for you, I can always leave.

No, no…I mean you just took me by surprise that’s all. It is not every day that a man checks into his hotel room and finds a beautiful and seductive woman such as you lying in his bed, and what about my wife? She might be back here any minute. I do not think she will like the idea of another woman, especially one as beautiful as you, lying on her side of the bed.

Thank you. And I would not worry about her if I were you. She turned and sat on the side of the bed. I sat next to her while looking into her eyes.

And why is that? I asked curiously.

The last time I saw her she was still downstairs at the bar talking to my boyfriend.

Your Boyfriend? Why is your boyfriend downstairs at the bar talking to my wife?

"Well, we have been going through some changes in our relationship. Unfortunately, none of them are for the good. And I thought that, by getting away for the weekend, we could work some things out. But when I saw how he was staring a hole through your wife, I told him that if he liked what he saw that much then he should introduce himself to her. He left me at our table and went over to the bar and began talking to her.

Aren’t you worried that he’s going to come back to the room looking for you? You know, to apologize and make up with you?

No. Right after I left him at the bar with your wife, I checked out of the room that we had and into another room on a different floor. Before I could finish unpacking my clothes in my new room, my girlfriend, the manager of this hotel, telephoned me to let me know that someone saw your wife and my boyfriend leaving the bar together. My guess is they went to his room together. I figured that I should come down here and break the news to you in person.

Looks like I owe you a debt of thanks.

It is the very least I could do. I thought we could console each other in this emotionally challenging time.

So, my Bertha Mae is in a room with your boyfriend? She chuckles aloud. Then she nodded her head and told me, Yes, your Bertha Mae is in a room with my Cleophus. She got up off the side of the bed and walked over to her overnight bag and pulled out a cassette tape. My eyes followed her white teddy-laced body as she walked across the carpeted moonlit room. The light of the moon cast enough light where I saw the silhouette of her body right through her lingerie coat. The only thing I could say to myself is "Mercy!" She placed the cd into the cd player that sat less than a few feet away from the glass patio door. She pressed the play button. I watched as she walked to the dresser where a gray metal bucket containing champagne sat wrapped up in a white cloth. Alongside the bucket were two clear crystal champagne flutes. She invited me over to where she stood and poured us a drink. We made a toast.

We lifted our glasses and I said, To Bertha Mae and Cleophus, may they find comfort in each other’s arms tonight. We both started laughing and then we drank. The beginning of All Over You, by Freddie Jackson started playing. She put her glass down on the dresser and asked me, Would you like to dance?

Yes. I responded. I pretended to act shy and said to her, I’m not a very good dancer. She walked up to me, took my glass out of my hand, sat it right beside hers, and said, Don’t worry, I’ll teach you. She pulled my arms around her white-laced body and then proceeded to put her arms on my shoulders while looking me square in the eyes. She has such beautiful brown eyes. I could have stood there and looked at them all night. Never have I known or seen such beauty in a woman as I have in my wife. Or should I say now My seductress. When we danced, I could smell the scent of her perfume around her neck. I could not resist the temptation of asking her, What is the name of the perfume you’re wearing?

Blue Diamonds. You know, for someone that is not a good dancer you are doing quite well. She gently whispered in my ear. I shyly replied, Thank you. You are a good teacher.

After the song went off, I pulled back from her long enough to gain my composure and look into her beautiful eyes and said, I don’t normally let strange women into my room and then let them teach me how to dance. She playfully looked at me sadly and asked, Oh, I’m sorry. Would you like for me to leave now?

No, no, I mean… I would not want you to catch your death of cold traveling from floor to floor. And besides, it would be rude of me to ask you to leave after you went through all this trouble to find me and let me know about my cheating and soon to be ex-wife.

She playfully asked, Is it me or is it a little chilly in here? I asked her, Would you like for me to turn the heat on?

I wouldn’t want you to go through any trouble for little old’ me. She looked over at the bed and said, I’m a little tired. Would it be okay with you if I just spent the night here?

Well, it’s only one bed in here. Tell you what, I will sleep on the couch in the living room, and you can take the bed.

I don’t want to put you out of your own bed. And besides, I really don’t like sleeping alone.

You mean you wouldn’t mind sharing my bed with me? She smiled at me slyly and said, Not at all. We went over to the bed and gently pulled the comforter and the sheets back slowly and carefully. She slipped out of her coat and laid it down on the bed and settled in. She turned my side of the sheets down so I could get into the bed too. She moved closer to me while running her French-polished fingernail hand on my silk pajama chest and told me, Now, I trust that you are going to be a gentleman and keep your hands to yourself? Just because we are in the same bed together does not mean you can take advantage of Me. she told me sternly.

But of course, I would never disrespect you just because we’re sleeping in the same bed.

Good. I’m glad we understand each another. The opening intro to Marvin Gaye’s "Let’s get it on." began to play. She rolled over and mounted herself on top of me looking down at me like a tiger that had just captured its prey after a chase. She let out a sexy moan saying, I don’t know what it is about this song, but it always does something to me. I looked up at her and asked her, I thought you wanted me to keep my hands to myself? She slyly chuckled while looking down at me saying; I never said that I would keep my hands to myself now did I? She laid a kiss upon my lips so that I enjoyed the savor.

A sudden tingling in my arm awakened me. I glanced around the room and noticed the digital clock on the nightstand beside me read three twenty-four a.m. I managed to slide my body from underneath her. I sat on the edge of the bed flexing my arm trying to regain the circulation back in my arm and shoulder. I happened to glance over at the teal blue napkin that was beside the clock that read; Stephen & Yolanda Walton. Now the two have become one. October 8, 2001. I looked through the vertical blinds that decorated the sliding glass door of our honeymoon suite and saw the moon cast its light off the motionless lake. I could still smell the light sweet essence of her still on my body while briefly reflecting upon the passion that took place about an hour and a half ago. I stood in the bathroom doorway looking at her as if I had just seen her for the very first time. She looked so peaceful lying there. She looked like her childhood picture I once saw of her in her family photo album lying on her father’s chest fast asleep.

While we were at the reception hall yesterday evening, I noticed she was looking a little depressed. I never like seeing her unhappy. I hope to God I never do or say anything to make her unhappy with me. I pulled her to the side and asked, Baby, are you okay? She nodded yes. I decided to try and cheer her up with a little impromptu humor to get her to smile. Whew. For a second, I thought you were over here thinking, What the hell have I’ve gotten myself into? she barely smiled. Now I know it’s serious. I asked her while holding her hand. Baby, what is wrong? Talk to me, please." I could even feel her sadness.

You might think it’s stupid. She said while wiping a tear from the corner of her eyes.

You won’t know what I’ll think until you tell me what it is.

I miss my father. He always wanted to walk me down the aisle when I got married. I feel as if I cheated him out of that when I got pregnant with Eddie and got married at City Hall. He died in his sleep while I was pregnant with Eddie. To this day, I still feel like I robbed him of the one thing he wanted most, and that was to walk his little girl down the aisle on her wedding day.

Her tears flowed from her face. Her eye shadow was running which partially stained the front of her dress. I held her close to me. Both of my parents got to see their only son get married. In this day and age that’s a major family milestone. Her uncle from San Antonio was the one who walked her down the aisle. I really did not know what to say. I couldn’t empathize with her because both of my parents were alive and in good health.

"Lord, please grant me the wisdom to say the right thing, please." I pulled her from my chest and lifted her chin up so I could look into her eyes.

I got news for you; he was at the church, and he did walk with you down the aisle right along with his big brother. And he is here now. He is looking at his beautiful baby girl becoming someone’s wife. Now if he is in there at the bar having a drink, I am not going back in there.

She burst into laughter. I took out my handkerchief and let her use it to clear up the mascara stains underneath her eyes. She looked into my eye and kissed me full on the lip and told me, Now I remember why I married you.

Because the more you drank, the better looking I became to you? she playfully hit me on the chest. No silly. Because when I am feeling depressed and sad, you know just what to say and how to say it to make me feel better. Her mother came out and saw her wiping her eyes and sniffling and asked, Is everything okay?

Yeah, she just wishes her father was here that’s all. She smiled and hugged her, So do I sweetheart. So do I.

She shifted to one side of the bed. I sat there hoping she would not notice I was missing. She shifted to the other side of the bed and noticed that I was not there. She looked around the room for a moment and noticed that I was sitting on the edge of the bed. She extended her arms out to me for a hug. I was more than happy to comply with her request. She pulled me down on the bed with her when she hugged me. It feels good when she hugs me. She placed her hand on the side of my face and kissed me. Is everything okay? she asked.

It couldn’t be better. Why do you ask? I said as I kissed her fingers.

I don’t know. It seems like you have something on your mind.

I do, I have you on my mind. She smiled and said, Come on back to bed. I am cold.

In a minute, I have to use the bathroom.

Okay. she said while she pulled the comforter over her naked body. I stood up and almost lost my balance and tried to feel my way through the dimly moonlit bedroom looking for my pajamas bottom and put them on. I groped around my side of the bed and found it along with my button less pajama top and put it on as well.

I walked across the carpeted floor to the partially opened bathroom door. I pushed the white bathroom door open and stepped onto the cold bathroom tile. I began looking around for the light switch and found two of them. I turned on the first one; the sudden loud sound of the ventilation fan for the bathroom kicked in. I immediately turned it off. The second one was the charm.

The sudden flash of the bathroom lights that decorated the mirror of the bathroom blinded me briefly. I stood there trying to regain my sight long enough to use the bathroom. I lifted the toilet seat up to use it.

I washed my hands when the diamond studded gold wedding band on my left finger shined through the water. I finished washing my hands and then proceeded to dry them off. I looked at my ring and began to think about the conversation that my father and my two uncles Edward and Terry had with me when I announced my engagement to Yolanda.

Last year when I proposed to Yolanda, I made a beeline for my parents’ house to tell them the good news. After a twenty-minute drive from her house I arrived at my parents’ house. I was excited and yet nervous at the same time.

My uncles and their wives always get together over at my parents’ house for a fish fry and cards every second Friday of every month. They have been doing the Friday night thing since I was in grammar school.

Mama answered the front door. She is forever wearing her multi-colored flowered housecoat. She wore her usual red apron with the faded white writing. My mother still looks good for a woman that is sixty-one years old. She worked for the post office for fifteen years. She left the post office to pursue her passion, fashion design. She designs clothes mostly for plus size women.

She wore her peppered gray hair in a ponytail. She always puts it in a ponytail the day before she goes to the beauty shop. Her face still had that motherly glow but slightly aged. She always had the most beautiful pecan color eyes.

She greeted me with her usual motherly hug and asked, Stephen, where’s Yolanda?" A car drove down the block with the music so loud that you could actually feel the vibrations coming from the car as it passed us.

She looked passed me as the car drove passed and commented, That don’t make any damn sense for someone to ride around in their car with the music up that loud. I commented, The stereo in the car probably cost more than the car does. She started laughing as she followed me in the house.Where’s Yolanda? she asked as she locked the door.

She’s at her aunt’s house helping her decorate her bathroom. I passed by the forever mint green kitchen of my parents’ house. Mama has asked daddy to paint the kitchen another color since I moved out over ten years ago. And he still has yet to do it. I can hear and smell the perch fish frying on the stove. The pot of spaghetti is boiling on the stove. I walked toward the den where the scent of a dime store cigar and Newport cigarette smoke was scattered throughout the room.

I looked at the den in total amazement. Daddy put in wall-to-wall burgundy carpet in the room. And he painted the walls a beautiful mauve color as well.

The various family pictures still hung on the wall as always right under the pale sand colored leather couch still in the same place as before. Knowing my father, he painted around the couch because he was too lazy to move it. He finally got rid of that ugly Zenith floor model television and bought a forty-one-inch Panasonic big screen television. A CD by B.B. King played on the new Kenwood stereo system that my father broke down and bought.

I see that cheap old goat finally broke down and bought a new card table that will no doubt be a permanent fixture in the middle of the room.

They had that old one for so long that the top of the table had a groove worn on the top of it. They even bought new cards. The other deck was so worn I knew what card they were going to play before they could put it down on the table. Will wonders ever cease?

They stopped their collective trash talking to look up and see who was entering into the inner sanctum. I spoke to everyone all at once.

My dad got up out of his chair to greet me with a fatherly hug. I got my looks from my father. He stands about six feet, even about two hundred and ten pounds. He looks good for a man of sixty-six and sleepy brown eyes. Well-groomed thin moustache lightly peppered with a hint of gray in it. He retired from the Chicago Electrical Works about four years ago to open his own electrical repair shop, named J.W. Electrical.

It turned out to be the best thing he has done for himself because he is making money hand over fist by doing electrical work in homes and office buildings. My uncles, they look just like my dad only younger. Uncle Terry is the youngest. He is fifty-five. He is about five seven, two hundred and thirty-five pounds with a full goatee. He was forced into early retirement from the Chicago Police Department. He was wounded in the line of duty.

Ten years ago, he was part of an undercover drug sting near the West Side of Chicago. Some young punk managed to get lucky and shot him in the head. The bullet is still lodged in his head near his brain. The doctors did not want to remove it from his head in fear of the bullet may travel near his brain and kill him. He functions quite well with the occasional headache every now and then. Now he is looking into buying and owning his own dry-cleaning business. To me, he is a walking testimony that there is a God, and he does hear and answers prayers.

Aunt Mary is Uncle Terry’s wife. She is about five feet one, on the thick side. Skin the color of butterscotch to match her hair. Her eyes are a natural green. She refuses to tell her age. She is a registered nurse at Bostwick Hospital. She has been there for twenty-two years. Before she worked at New Bethel, she worked at Bostwick Hospital for twelve years. That is where she met my Uncle Terry. She was one of the nurses who assisted the doctors in the operating room when he was shot. She was married once before. Her first husband was a captain in the Marines. He was killed in combat in Vietnam.

Uncle Edward is about five foot ten, heavier than my dad is. He must weigh two hundred fifty pounds easily. He’s just a shade darker than my dad and my Uncle Terry. His thin moustache makes him look very distinguished. He owns his own semi-truck and does runs for various companies. He’s been a trucker for over twenty years. Now he’s looking to start his own trucking company. I always wanted to be like him when I grew up. He gave me the best piece of advice by telling me to be myself and not be like anyone else.

My Aunt Jeanne is about five feet four, average build, not too thin, but she is not overweight either. She looks good for a woman that is fifty-two years old. She has black hair thanks to dying the daylights out it. I am surprised her hair hasn’t fallen out from all the dye she’s put in her hair over the years. My aunt Jeanne has the most beautiful chestnut brown eyes. And her infectious smile lights up the entire room when she smiles. She is a schoolteacher and has been for twenty-eight years. In another five years she wants to retire and pursue her hobby full-time, being an author. She and my Uncle Edward have been married for more thirty years.

Jeanne and Mary stopped playing cards long enough to greet me with the usual hugs that squeezed life right out of my body. I could smell the scent of their perfume on me after they hugged me. I have to hand it to both of my uncles they definitely have good taste when it comes to women. Aunt Mary asked, Where’s that pretty young lady you’re always with? What’s her name? I’ve been bringing Yolanda around my family for months now and she still forgets her name. She means well.

Yolanda. She’s at her aunt’s house redecorating the bathroom. So, what’s the game tonight? Bid whisk or Spades? Aunt Jeanne sits back down in her chair and picks up her cigarette and takes a pull of it and tells me, Spades. And were beating them like they owe us money. she said as she threw down a queen of spades on the table. Aunt Mary began to laugh.

Don’t believe them nephew. They’re only winning by twenty points. my Uncle Terry commented while searching through his hand. I stood there watching the cigarette move up and down in his mouth with every word he spoke. Not even a hint of ash touched the surface of the card table. Yeah, but we’re winning. That’s all that matters. Mary comments while taking a pull off of her cigarette. That’s about to change, Uncle Terry said as he slapped the ace of spade down on the table. Uncle Edward grimaced in make-believe pain as he collected the book. Now, Terry, you know that’s not right. You shouldn’t treat your wife like that.

Yeah well, she should have thought about that before she got to running off at the mouth.

Stephen, why don’t you play the next hand with your father against us? My Aunt Mary commented while adjusting the two cards in her hand. Who said y’all were going to win? Uncle Edward asked while pulling his cigar out of his mouth while releasing a cloud of smoke from his mouth. Oh, I wasn’t asking for myself. This big jig’ and this little jig’ was asking, because you’ all are set! she said as she tossed the Big Joker and Little Joker onto the table. Aunt Mary let out her a cackle that she calls a laugh and high-five Aunt Jeanne.

Man, you guys are vicious when it comes to playing cards. I commented while walking toward my dad. You finally broke down and bought a new system, huh?

Yeah, and I’m still trying to figure the damn thing out. He put a CD in the CD player and pressed play. Aunt Mary began wailing right along with Denise La Salle and began to waive her hand with her cards in the air as if the Holy Spirit had come upon her.

Do you think you can stop testifying to the song long enough to play some cards woman? My Uncle Terry asked his wife of twenty plus years. I went upstairs to my old bedroom, which is now Mama’s dream room, the sewing room. That old woman could not wait for me to move out so she could have it as her sewing room. But hey, that has always been her passion.

I sat at the desk where the Swinger sewing machine is and began contemplating on how I was going to break the news about my engagement to Yolanda. Even with the door closed, I could hear Bobby Blue Bland singing about Stormy Monday. I figured there was only one way to do it, and that was the direct approach.

I asked everyone to come into the living room and have a seat. Everyone had a curious look on his or her face as to what my announcement was going to be. I stood in the center of the winter green carpeted living room with my stomach tied in knots wondering what the response was going to be about me taking a bride. Was everyone going to be happy for me? Or are they going to look at me like I’ve lost my mind? I might as well shoot from the hip and tell them the news. Everybody, something wonderful has happened to me and I want to share it with you. Everyone sat there with their eyes locked on me in anticipation of my pending news.

I’ve asked Yolanda to marry me, and she has accepted. I slowly exhaled in relief of finally breaking my news to them. I knew I wasn’t done though. I had to wait for their reaction. My mother was so overjoyed by my announcement that she shuffled over to me and hugged me until all the air left my body. Then my aunts Jeanne and Mary soon followed suit. Daddy, Uncle Edward, and Terry looked at each other as if I told them that I was gay, and my lover would be here any minute to meet them or something.

Mama noticed that neither one of them made any kind of gesture or movement to say congratulations to me or anything. She said to them; Johnny, Edward, Terry, you all say something, you all are standing there looking at him like he has lost his mind or something. Go on over there and congratulate the boy.

They looked at one another and each one of them gave me a hesitant congratulatory handshake. I looked in daddy’s face when he shook my hand. It wasn’t a look of disapproval or anything, just some concern about my little announcement. He couldn’t hold his peace any longer and asked me to come outside onto the enclosed back porch along with my Uncle Edward and Terry following behind him. Daddy of course was the first to begin the questioning. He asked me; Are you sure you want to do this son?

Do what? I asked coyly. I knew perfectly well what he was talking about.

Go skydiving’, boy what the hell do you think I’m talking about. I’m talking about you getting married. My daddy snapped.

Yeah, I’m sure. She’s the one. My Uncle Edward being the pervert of the family, asked, It hasn’t got anything to do with the way she put that Whip-a-appeal on you is it boy? Because some women put on you so tough that it makes you want to marry them. Have you running home to them every night. Daddy and Uncle Terry just looked at for the pervert that he can be. No Uncle Eddie, it has nothing to do with that. I want to marry her because I love her.

My Uncle Terry asked, Now nephew, I don’t want you to think that I mean any harm in what I’m about to ask you, but has she earned the right to be named Mrs. Walton?

What do you mean by earned the right?

My father asked me, "What he is talking about is her character as a woman. From what I’ve seen of her she carries herself like a lady. And from the things that you and I have talked about how she’s a good mother all, but does she inspire you to be a better man? Does she motivate you and encourage you? Does she know how to correct you are wrong and still follow your lead?

Yes, she does.

And are you two willing to put yourself aside for each other? Because when you get married, I become us. Does she make you feel like a man?

Yeah, she does.

How do you feel about her son?

I love him like he’s my own.

Wasn’t she married before? Uncle Terry asked.

Yes, she was. Her husband died in a motorcycle accident.