EMPTY ENVELOPE...

CHAPTER 9.

Fritz and Chloe drove Trina into Luciaville, ten miles away. Jett met them there. Trina had changed into a stunning empire skimmer and her diamond dangle settled over her graceful cleavage. Chloe looked elegant in her white linen two-piece and bold turquoise earrings that were just the right touch.
“Wine, anyone?” Fritz asked for the waiter’s benefit.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Chloe smiled.
“Sure,” Trina said. “We can toast Trish’s safe return.”
Jett declined.
“Then, it’s three glasses of port, my dear man,” Fritz said, very pleased that their foursome had been stashed away in a secluded corner of the neat, little family-owned café. He sent the friendly waiter away with a smile.
“You were quite the hero today, Jett.” Chloe beamed. “Wasn’t he, Trina?”
Trina’s eyes misted. “More than I can ever repay.”
“I only did what was needed,” Jett said. “It was a team effort, right Fritz?”
“Quite, Ole Man. Quite.”
“But you’re my hero.” Trina touched Jett’s arm and his heart dropped like a roller coaster.
“It was nothing,” Jett mumbled, withdrawing his arm from her mind-numbing touch. Seeing the light in her eyes again was its own reward.
Trina tilted her chin to stave off the tears. “I don’t think I could’ve stood it another moment--”
“Now, now,” Fritz said warmly. “All’s well that ends well, and we’re here to celebrate, right?”
“Right.” The three of them raised their glasses. “To Jett!”
“Blasted cell phone.” Fritz left the table to take the call.
“Hope our steaks are cooked to perfection,” Chloe said. “In all this excitement, I’ve worked up quite an appetite.”
“Sorry, Honey-Bun.” Fritz hugged Chloe when he returned. “We can’t stay after all.”
“Why? Our steaks are nearly ready.”
“I know, but it’s our little Elizabeth.”
“What’s wrong?”
“She can’t sleep. Her counselors have tried to calm her--”
“Too much excitement for one little seven year old, I’m afraid.” Chloe’s face sagged.
Fritz helped Chloe with her red shawl. “We’ll have to go. Jett, will you see Trina home?”
“Sure thing.” Jett shrugged.
Trina waved. “Kiss little Elizabeth for us.”
“Good night.”
“They’re such a sweet couple,” Trina said.
“And genuine, too,” Jett added.
“Sometimes I wish--”
“Wish what, Trina?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on, Trina. I thought we were friends.”
She lowered her eyes. “I wish me and Onyx could communicate like that. You know . . . with that kind of oneness.
“I understand.”
“But he’s always so busy--”
“What does your husband do?”
“Developer.” She rolled her eyes. “Builds houses, apartments, high rises. You name it.”
“Sounds like he makes a good living for you and your children. Trust me; I know. I’ve got an architectural firm of my own in Detroit.”
“You’re right. He does, but I wish he would spend more time--” She removed the bacon from her filet mignon. “Can’t have everything, I guess.”
“Guess not.” Jett pondered his well-done rib eye. He bowed his head to pray, but Trina didn’t join him.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to bore you.”
Jett met her gaze. “You’re anything but boring, Trina Laws.”
“What does your wife do?”
“Politician. She’s running for Mayor of Bloomfield Hills, as we speak.”
“Wow! That must be exciting. Do you think she’ll win?”
“Or die trying.” He tried to hide his smirk.
“Why, Jett Thorne?” Trina glinted. “Are you jealous?”
“Hardly.”
“Then what?” She fluttered her lashes. “I told you my wish, now it’s your turn.”
Jett took a bite of his rib eye. He wasn’t accustomed to complaining aloud. “My desire--” His words floated. “Is that Georgeanne would give her family as much time as her career.”
“Sounds like we share the same wish.” Trina set her fork aside. “Have you told her?”
“Sure. Lots of times.”
“Has she always been so ambitious?”
“Always. I met her when I was a star running back and she was a cheerleader. She wasn’t satisfied until she made captain, freshman year.”
“Was it love at first sight?”
Jett carved at his steak deliberately. “Guess you could say that. I looked into those green eyes of hers and I saw my future.”
“I know the feeling.” Trina sparkled. “I think I fell in love with Onyx the first day I saw him when he transferred to my high school. Sometimes it seems like he’s just been going along for the ride ever since.”
“I doubt that. A pretty woman like you--” Jett swallowed hard. “He probably didn’t want you to know how helplessly in love he was for fear you’d take advantage.”
“Advantage? Ha! You don’t know Onyx.”
“No. But I do know men.” He smiled cockily.
Trina leaned into him. “So tell me. Why do successful black men always seem to marry . . . other women?”
Jett pulled back. “I don’t know why they do it, Trina, but I didn’t marry Georgeanne for her race. I married her because I loved her.”
“But why--”
“I’m a black man, Trina. It doesn’t get any easier for me, no matter who I marry.”
“I guess that’s fair.” She pinched at her wheat roll. “So when did you marry Georgeanne, right after college?”
“I married her after her junior year.” His knife and fork went silent in his hands. “I don’t think she’s ever forgiven me for that. She had to transfer to Michigan State with me to get my masters. She graduated there, but she wanted U of M behind her name. She reminds me, to this day, it has hindered her political career.”
“And, Mary, was she born right after you married?”
“Yup. Nine months to the day. She’s my love child.” Jett winked.
“That probably put a lot of pressure on your marriage, what with you in grad school and your wife trying to get her degree.”
“You could say that. But I helped--”
“Then what happened?”
“I don’t think Mary Ellen and Georgeanne ever really bonded. There seems to be so much animosity between them.”
“It’s probably just that mother-daughter thing. Me and Trish--”
“It’s different with Georgeanne.” Jett crossed his knife and fork over his half-eaten rib eye and sat back. “Sometimes . . . it borders on hatred.”
“Hatred?” Trina set her roll in place.
“You should hear the things Georgeanne says to Mary Ellen when she thinks I’m not around.”
“Do you say anything?”
“I don’t intervene. I don’t want to solidify Georgeanne’s position, but I keep my eye on it. Sometimes . . . it’s scary--”
“Being alone--” Trina broke. “Can be scary, too.”
Jett’s hand flashed to her face before the tear could fall, but he handed her a napkin instead. “Don’t cry, Trina.” The hurt in her eyes was tearing him to pieces. “It’ll be all right.”
“I wish I could believe that.” She sniffed.
“Does he hit you?” Jett whispered.
“No. Not so that the bruises show.” Her forehead pinched. “He’s never home enough to hit me. I get cell phone calls, e-mails, and instant messages. It’s like we share the same cyberspace, but not the same life.”
“Seems like things got more impersonal after 9-11, Trina. It’s like we’re afraid to touch each other for fear it could all be taken away--” Jett snapped his fingers. “Like that.” He stopped. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”
“My name sounds so safe in your mouth, Jett.” Trina’s cocoa eyes gleamed like moonbeams. She wanted Jett to kiss her. She hadn’t felt this way about another man since she met Onyx in the 10th grade. Oh, Onyx! What’s happening to us?
“You are safe with me, Trina.” Jett spread his big hands apart to play it off, but the fire in his voice betrayed the depth of his feelings.
Trina touched his arm and his temperature skyrocketed. He shoved back his chair. “Ready?”
“Sure.” She grabbed her sweater. “Let’s go.”
They rode in comfortable silence from the restaurant to Crystal Sea. Jett parked his car, and they strolled toward the dorm together.
Trina pointed to the stars in the heavens. “We never get to see this in the big city.” She beamed. “Ever see anything so beautiful?”
“No.” Jett was caught up by the twinkle in her eyes. “Never.”
“By the way,” Trina said as they approached the front entrance, “I found your baseball rule book in Manna Hall. Stop by my room and I’ll give it to you.” She opened the door with her key and flicked on the table lamp beside the door.
It was late. Jett entered cautiously and left the door slightly ajar. No one was in the hallway, but he wanted to keep Trina’s reputation in tact.
Her skirt slid up one shapely thigh as she reached across her bed to the nightstand. That was enough for Jett to keep his distance at the door. She retrieved his book and sat on the side of the bed holding it.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone to talk to, Jett.” She hugged his book.
The room was on fire.
“Me, too.”
“Won’t you stay and hold me . . . just for tonight.” Trina’s voice hollowed into a whisper. “I haven’t been held in such a long time.”
Jett kept his place at the door, but his heart was wrapped up in her pleading coco eyes. “Trina, I don’t think I could . . . just hold you.”
“But why?”
His blood was pounding through his veins. A cold sweat ran down one arm. “I . . . it just wouldn’t be right.”
“No one will know--”
“I’d know. You’d know.” He turned and clutched the doorknob. He couldn’t bear her pleading eyes a minute longer. “God would know.”
“God?” She bristled. “I’m not religious.”
“I’m not religious, either.” Jett struggled to breath. “But Jesus is my friend, and I can’t disappoint my friend,” he said as much to himself as to her.
“Then just forget it!” Trina snapped. “I can’t argue with you and your God.”
Jett jerked on the knob. “I’ll go--”
“No-o. Stop. Don’t go,” she purred. “I’m just afraid of losing you--losing what we have.
“I understand.” The knob was hard in his hand. “Goodnight.”
“But if you leave now . . . we’ll never have this chance again. Tomorrow, it’s The Games and fireworks; and Sunday, we leave,” she said breathlessly. “I thought you cared.”
He gripped the knob to anchor himself on his side of the room; his voice husky with desire. “You know I care, Trina.”
The fire in his words melted her heart like jelly. Until now she’d only heard of people in love being weightless, but every step she took toward Jett felt like she was floating on air.
She came so close, Jett could hear her breathe and smell her perfume. He held onto the knob, but his body ached for her. He could feel her in his arms, taste her ripe kisses on his lips, feel her heartbeat pounding wildly against his chest. His feet begged for the few inches to close the gap between them, but his heart knew even the slightest touch would set their worlds on fire.
Jett’s mouth was parched, but somehow he found the words. “We can’t do this, Trina.” He rumbled. “We’re married.”
She threw up her hands. “How can we be married if they don’t care?”
“We can only keep our promise,” he whispered, “and pray they keep theirs.”
“But Jett, I don’t want to lose you; lose what we have this very moment.” Her mind was whirling, clutching at straws. “When’s your birthday?”
“My birthday?” He puzzled. “September 21st. Why?”
“Mine is April 2nd.” Her eyes danced as her plan took shape.
“O-kay--”
“What if I send you something on your birthday?”
“Trina, we can’t--”
“Just so you’ll know I’m all right.” Her voice was urgent. “You do want to know I’m all right, don’t you?”
“Of course--”
“And you send me something on mine, and then I’ll know you’re okay. Our addresses are on the parent’s roster. Deal?”
“Trina--”
“No return address. Nothing. Just an empty envelope.” Her eyes entreated. “I’ll know it’s from you, and you’ll know it’s from me. And no matter what happens, we’ll never forget this night and how true love really feels. Okay?”
Jett pressed open the door when she came closer; her body only a breath away. “Okay,” he said.
Their eyes locked and a lump caught in his throat. “Trina, you’re a beautiful lady, inside and out.” His words rolled like deep waters. “I want only the best for you.” He exhaled. “God bless you.”
Jett closed the door behind him. He hugged it on his side. Trina hugged it on hers.