When Élan returns from work, he plops down on the couch because he is simply exhausted. His eyes shut for a while and he reflects in the silence of his thoughts. There are benefits and setbacks to being a piece of the upper middle class and his job is such a setback. And boring. Typical.
Faye is a ghost at the office and he feels so terrible for objectifying her.
His boss discreetly asks if Nanti's visits will be customary. Élan bites his tongue, annoyed by her earlier provocations that she would have sex with him for revenge.
The couch suddenly feels like paradise and he sinks a little lower, adjusts the buttons on his shirt, loosens his tie.
Nanti is in a dark silk negligee, standing in front of him when he opens his eyes and he concludes that his wife has a beauty incapable of tiring. It's infinite.
He cannot blame his boss for being enamored.
She doesn't speak, just crawls into his lap like a kitten though she's the one petting. Her palm is soft and flat in his curls, she runs her fingers through every loose wave and he wants to pant like a puppy but he doesn't.
He's not even sure if he's breathing.
He inhales and his eyes flutter shut when he gets a whiff of her perfume. She is so natural and organic and fresh.
All for him, in his lap.
She lightly tugs at his hair and he bites his cheek, flares his nostrils, seals his eyes.
She tugs again, a bit harder. He bites his lip and shields his face in her cleavage, drawing her closer.
"How was work?" Nanti asks, her voice gentle on his ears.
"Work was work, I missed you." He speaks this into her chest and she shivers, readjusts herself in his lap.
She doesn't explicitly say that she misses him too, but he feels it in her touch.
He gazes up at her with finality and inescapability, like he would die in this very moment with her and be fulfilled.
She presses her thighs together and he notices the effect he has on her, wonders why she's fighting against her own instinct.
"Will you let me?"
It's a fragment of his thoughts, implies so much. She doesn't answer, just looks down on him with low-lidded eyes.
"You're majestic." He breathes it against the sensitive part of her neck and she quivers. Blunt teeth sink into her flesh.
"God, I miss being between these." He parts her thighs with the flat of his hands and she gasps.
"Don't you?" He's kissing on her neck lightly whilst his palm rests between her legs.
She can barely get her voice to work. "You're being a tease,"
"Look how the tables have turned."
Nanti's phone slices through the tension in the room and suddenly it's important, she must take it now, even though Élan begs her not to.
"It's my mother," she says. He says nothing.
"You sick?" Ahna Olayi answers the phone, worried at her daughter's hoarse voice.
"No mama, I am well."
"Oh. I'm in town."
"What?" She's happy and excited but also hates being unprepared for her mother, of all people.
Ahna Olayi raises Nanti Olayi-Tinsle in Côte d'Ivoire, Africa for eleven years before making the move to America. She has known Élan for all of her life, their families having stunning parallels and from then a romantic relationship is birthed, after marriage they elope to the city but not before receiving approval.
"You know I hate repeating myself, Ola. Come help me with my bags. I'm outside." The click of the receiver ensues.
She sighs and enters the bedroom to change because she does not want to hear any lip from her mother. "Mama is outside, she needs help with her bags,"
Élan is surprised, but pleasantly so. He enjoys the domineering personality of his mother-in-law; she takes charge of the kitchen and housekeeping during each visit and criticizes Nanti for not taking care of him they way she is expected to.
Payback.
"Come here!" Miss Olayi traps Élan in a bone-crushing hug, kissing the sides of his cheeks.
Élan blushes. "Mama Olayi, I've missed you so much! What brings you by?"
"Something told me I needed to come here and see how my favorite couple is enjoying marriage. My instincts tell me you are not doing well."
"What? We're great?" He lies.
She gives him a knowing look and scoffs.
"OLA! Why do I not smell food cooking? Élan is still in his suit so I'm assuming he has returned from work, no?"
"Yes Mama."
"He looks gaunt. Do you not see this? You need to feed him."
Élan smirks at Nanti and she rolls her eyes.
"I mean, I am a little hungry..." he admits and stares his wife down.
When her mom turns around to wreak havoc in the kitchen, Nanti gives her husband the Evil Eye. "Don't act cute."
"I'm only being honest."
She punches him.
Fried plantains is her specialty with okra, quinoa, and shrimp seasoned with Jamaican black pepper. Élan barely breathes during the meal because it is too good to be true.
"Eat, eat," Mama Olayi encourages. "Poor young man." She narrows her eyes at her daughter.
She's got a lot to learn.
YOU ARE READING
MAD BLACK WOMAN
Romancein which she must deal with her husband's infidelity and the love she still has left for him. in which he must find the broken pieces of the love that fell apart.
