Brown Eyes, Blue Smile Ch. 04

A hand suddenly grabbed hers, startling her momentously. She turned to her left and gazed into the familiar eyes of her former lover, Lincoln. For a moment neither of them said anything to each other, though he continued smiling at her, it was obvious it was a facade. His unsteady eyes told her so¬—he was just as anxious at the same time scared to meet with me as I am with him, she mused to herself. There was as well a certain weariness about him, she noticed. It made him look as if he'd aged ten years more than his present.

"Hi there Mich," he finally said to her.

She dropped her handbag on the table and then sat across from him. "Long time no see, Lincoln."

"I'm sorry if I scared you. I figured you'd be searching everywhere for me once you came in, so I figured I'd surprise you like this."

"Same old Lincoln. You always know how to pull a leg when necessary. Whatever made you think I was going to come?"

"I took a risk with that note."

"You took more than a dumbass risk," she retorted. "How come you didn't knock?"

He gave her a knowing look. "I assumed the first thing you'd done once you found me standing there is go grab a knife to stab me with. I am correct, aren't I?"

"Very correct," she gave him a cruel smile. "And you want to know what else¬? I would have enjoyed it."

"You're breaking my heart to hear you talk like this, Mich."

"Go fuck yourself, Linc," she blurted, unable to hold back the anger, though she paused to glance about the deli, not wanting to arouse any costumer's ears, and then leaned across the table to say to him: "I could do more than just reach across this table right now and squeeze the fucking life out of you for all the heartache you've caused me and Monique, especially Monique. Except I promised myself I wasn't going to do that." She sat back and straightened herself. "You asked me to meet you here, so I suspect you've got a good reason for it."

"I do," he said solemnly. "I know I'm stupid, Mich. You don't have to tell me, I know. I caused you some pain when I left—"

"You caused me more than just pain, Linc. You cut my heart off."

"And you've got all the right in the world to hate me for leaving the way I did."

She gave a bitter laugh. "Oh would you just listen to the genius. And how long did it take for you to figure that out?"

"Less than enough time I spent at St. Nicholas five months ago."

Michelle gave him a serious look. "What happened at St. Nicholas?"

"I went in for a physical. I was terribly sick back then, you remember. I needed to find what was up, and boy, did I ever." He then looked at her with surprise. "You know it's funny, we've been having this talk and since we haven't even ordered anything."

"I'm not hungry," she said. "Tell me, Linc, what took you to the hospital. What did the doctors say?"

"You don't want to know, Mich."

Her hand reached across the table and held his and spoke to him with a firm voice. "I've got daughter asking me just about every fucking day for her Daddy. Don't you start playing footsie with me, Lincoln. Tell me what is it?"

The weariness came to his eyes and he struggled for a moment to find his next words. "You and Monique are going to be better off without me, Mich. It's partly the reason why I needed to see you. I don't ... I don't think I'll be coming back home anymore. I'm dying."

The words seemed to be coming from far away, and yet if it wasn't that she was holding unto the table's edge she undoubtedly would have allowed the impact of it to fall her to the ground. Michelle sat there in stunned silence, her mind recalled what he'd just said to her.

I'm dying.

She felt Lincoln shake her hand, bringing her back. "Mich, are you alright?"

"Yeah ... yeah, I am. Whatever is it that's killing you, Linc?"

He took her hand and began writing on her palm as he spoke. His voice was so low she had to inch forward to hear him. "I've got the virus. It's what the doctor told me."

She was about to ask—what virus? Then she looked at her palm, at the feel of his finger tracing the words for her and then horror lit on her face as suddenly she knew.

HIV/AIDS.

"Oh my God, Linc."

He nodded solemnly. "Yeah, I know. It's why I ran away."

Michelle didn't fight back any longer. She pulled him towards her and hugged him. Tears gushed out of her eyes and stained the collar of his jacket. "Oh Linc. Oh babe, I'm so sorry."

"So am I, Mich," he muttered. "So am I."

**********

Shanice got off early from work today. Though even if her reliever hadn't arrived early enough, she still had the good fortune to have brought her lover's clothes with her to work, folded inside a knapsack bag which she'd stowed away in her locker so as to take it straight down to his place without bothering to stop by home first to pick it up. The reason why she'd opted on this was upon her leaving her apartment in the morning only to run into Chris, her former boyfriend. He'd kept on pleading for her to take him back and still she'd given him the back of her palm and told him to shove off. It was a good thing he hadn't thought of following her to work, though that hadn't eased her mind into speculating he might be hanging around her doorstep, just waiting for her to return home. The stupid boy just wouldn't take no for an answer.

It was approaching six in the evening when the taxi deposited her in front of his apartment building. She knew he wouldn't be back from work yet—she had called him just before she left her place of work so as to let him know she was on her way there. He'd given her his spare key in the morning before he left, and she intended to cook him something special tonight.

Half a minute later she was standing in front of his door about to insert her key into the lock when she noticed that the door was already open. Shanice got immediately suspicious about that. Was there someone inside, or could he possibly have forgotten to lock up before coming by my place last night? Cautiously she pushed the door open and took a step inside his pad.

Everything was as it was the last time she was there; nothing appeared or seemed to be out of place or missing.

Just then a woman's voice called out from within: "Eric? Eric, is that you?"

Shanice let the knapsack bag drop from her shoulder, though she was still standing there in the middle of the living room when a woman came out of the bedroom and approached her. She was tall and slim, wearing a purple blouse and black slacks. Her hair was blonde and tied in a ponytail. Her face was angular, her eyes green and they instantly turned envious upon sighting Shanice. She was immediately branded an intruder by those pair of green eyes, and she could only wonder how come.

"Who're you?" the blonde woman asked with annoying bluntness.

"I'm Shanice. And who are you?"

She gave her a cynical smile. "I'm Tara. I'm Eric's wife."

To Be Continued...