A Day on the River

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"Right," he said. "Can I pick you up?"

I told him I'd meet him there at the restaurant for lunch and then I'd see about replacing the rod I broke.

Jacks was already at the restaurant when I pulled up in my Merc. Even though he had seen it at the river, we were all still a little hyped up from the scuffle with the clods and he didn't really have a chance to check it out, and as I showed it to him, he was quite impressed.

As much as I would have liked to show off my baby some more, I had a date with Ty later and had to get moving, so we went into the restaurant and were able to get seated reasonably quickly.

We placed our drink orders, and as soon as I opened the menu, I knew what I was ordering; their daily special, broiled lamb. I'm not usually much of a meat eater, but I love lamb and don't get a chance to have it very often, so when I see it, I grab it. I was surprised when Jacks ordered a grilled salmon steak; he seemed more like a "meat and potatoes" guy.

Jacks ordered for both of us, getting garlic mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables for the side dishes.

While we waited for our food, I started our dinner conversation with a fairly innocuous topic.

"You surprised me when you ordered fish, Jacks," I said, "I was sure you'd be getting a big rare steak."

"Oh, I like steak as much as the next guy," he said, "but I also like to take care of my body and eat healthy, as well."

I could see I was going to have to adjust my "date meter" for Jacks.

Our meals were served, and they were just as delicious as we expected. We continued our casual conversation, and to my frustration, it was very pleasant. Why would pleasant conversation frustrate me? It was because I so wanted Jacks to turn out to be some sort of a loser so that I could justify ending what I felt was a hopeless relationship before things went too far.

Jacks dashed my hopes by being a charming dinner companion, speaking knowledgably about a wide range of subjects. The only time things got awkward was when I asked him about his family.

He pushed his food around on his plate, then said, "My family and I don't really get along. They don't approve of my job."

"What's to approve?" I asked. "I admit that cop isn't high on my list of preferred jobs, but that's me. I would think that most parents would be proud."

"Well, you obviously don't know my parents," he said, "Maybe it would help if I told you my full name: Jackson Wallace Marlowe III."

"Y...You mean the..."

"Yes, those Marlowes," he said, "My parents expected that I would be a lawyer, a doctor, or ideally, an investment banker, to groom me to eventually take my father's place at the head of Marlowe Enterprises.

"I'm sure you can understand that they weren't exactly pleased that I wanted to be 'just' a cop. That's the main reason I came out here. Back home in Boston, they kept pulling strings to get me plum assignments, hoping to help me advance, ultimately to move into something more 'suitable' for a Marlowe. I always loved the outdoors, and when this opportunity showed up, I jumped at the chance and never looked back."

"I could tell you weren't from this part of the country," I said, "but you don't really have a Boston accent."

"Well, I've been here for several years now, and I worked hard to suppress it. Believe me, I took my share of ribbing when I first got here, and it still sneaks out now and then."

I smiled and nodded, knowing how hard we could be on Yankees.

"The only thing I regret is leaving my brother behind," Jacks said, "We were very close, and I worry about him under the thumb of my parents. We do talk often, and I'm hopeful that he can resist their pressure."

"How old is your brother?" I asked. "What's his name?"

"Jimmy is eighteen, he just finished his first year at Boston University," Jacks said, "Of course, his legal name is Jamison, Heaven forbid they give him a normal name like James!"

"What's his major?"

"He hasn't chosen one yet," Jacks said, "He just took general Liberal Arts courses. Our parents nearly spit nails on that one. Fortunately, our college expenses are paid by a family trust that they can't touch, so there's nothing they can do. Our parents are putting enormous pressure on him to pick a 'proper' degree program, and he's just a kid."

"I've got an idea," I said, "Why don't you have him transfer out here? I can help with any bureaucratic issues."

"That's a great idea!" he said, "I'll call him later."

On that high note, we finished our lunch and went to the Bass Pro Shop. Jacks got a few odds and ends, and I got a new rod. It wasn't as good as the one I broke, but it would do.

I gave Jacks my phone number and Email and told him to have Jimmy get in touch with me, and I went home to get ready for my date with Ty, something I was looking forward to even less than usual.

After a nice shower, I had a light supper. I didn't want to have too much after my big lunch; have to watch my girlish figure!

Trying to decide what to wear, I immediately decided against my various LBD's and decided on a more modest green number. The hem went to just above my knees and it had a modest V-neck with minimal cleavage; I was getting pretty sick of Ty and wanted to make sure he didn't get the wrong signals, though knowing Ty, the only signal he could get is a 2x4 upside the head.

I was supposed to meet Ty at the club at eight o'clock, but didn't get there until 8:15. I almost turned right back around, because there was Ty with his buddies and some barely dressed bimbette on his lap. He had a hand on her thigh and was already pushing it higher when the chatter at the table stopped. Ty saw the other guys looking behind him and turned around. He didn't even bother moving the little tramp off his lap.

"Slate," he said, "I didn't think you were coming."

"That's pretty obvious," I said, then I decided to give him a parting shot. "I usually don't with you, anyway!" As I turned and left, I heard the guys roaring in laughter.

I was determined not to cry over that piece of shit, but we had been together for a while, and until recently, I had been thinking that he might just be "The One," so this hurt.

Jacks might be a white cop, but he was looking pretty good to me right now. I had to be careful though; if something was there, I didn't want him to be a rebound relationship.

I went home, ran a nice hot bath with some wonderful bath oils, put on my favorite songs, opened a bottle of wine and had a good soak.

I dried off and called it an early night, reevaluating my life as I drifted off to dreamland.

I was wakened by the ringing of my phone. I picked it up at looked at the time: 7:00 A.M.! Who the fuck would be calling me at seven o'clock Sunday morning? I was about to let it go to voice mail, then decided it might be important, so I answered.

I was startled by a very excited Claire.

"Slate, Slate," she nearly blew out my ear drum, "I've got wonderful news!"

"It had better be," I said, "to get me up so early on a Sunday morning!"

"I'm sorry, Slate," Claire said, "but I had to call you early, because my parents said that I could invite you to join us for church and lunch today, and church is at ten."

"I don't know, Claire," I said, "I appreciate the invitation, but I'm not really a church-goer. Why don't I just join you for lunch?"

I could almost hear her disappointment. "Ple-e-ease, Slate! I've been telling all my friends about my cool new friend and they can't wait to meet you."

I could see her pleading eyes in my mind, and I simply couldn't tell her no.

"Okay," I said, "Where is the church?"

"If it's not too much trouble could you pick us up? We'd all like to ride in your super cool car, especially my Dad and me."

Oh, well, in for a dime in for a dollar, even though it was going to be a bit of a squeeze for five people. "Okay, Claire, you can stop twisting my arm now. What time should I pick you up?"

"Our church is pretty close; 9:45 should be early enough."

"All right," I said, "I better get moving then. Does your mother need me to bring anything?"

"No, that's okay, Mom has it covered," she said, "See you later!

"Bye, Claire," I said, disconnecting the call, wondering just what I got myself into. I had a fast shower and grabbed a quick cup of coffee and a couple of slices of toast before searching my closet for something suitable for church. I settled on one of my older dresses, a modest short-sleeved floral print dress.

I got dressed and just put on a little lipstick and hopped in the Merc for the short trip to Claire's house. I had barely got out of the car when a little ball of energy slammed into me. For a little thing, she sure packed a wallop! The rest of the family followed close behind, and although Claire pouted, she had to ride with her mother and sister in the back seat while her father rode shotgun.

Except for her little sister who couldn't care less, they were all impressed by my ride, and we drew a small crowd as we pulled into the church parking lot. I was happy to see a few dark faces, I had been afraid I was going to stick out like a sore thumb.

I was even more surprised when entering the church and being greeted by the Minister, a black woman.

"I heard how you rescued our Claire," she said, giving me a warm handshake. "I had to practically sit on her during Sunday School to get through the lesson!" Claire had the good sense to blush at that, then took my hand to lead me to her family's pew.

While I'm not much of a singer, I enjoyed the hymn singing, and the sermon was moving and enlightening, not all fire and brimstone. I had a pleasant time during the coffee hour, meeting Robert and Martha's friends while waiting for Claire and Susan to finish Sunday School.

On the return trip to their house, Claire had somehow talked Robert into riding in the back, letting her sit beside me, maybe a little closer than I would have liked.

Martha served us a delicious meat loaf lunch, when she hit me with a question that caught me off guard.

"Tell me, Slate," she said, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"I... I do, or I did," I stammered, "I'm really not sure right now, he's been acting pretty much like a jerk lately."

"I know!" said Claire, "Jacks should be your boyfriend!"

I was uncomfortable having this conversation here, and I could see Robert and Martha exchanging nervous glances, while Susan seemed oblivious to it all.

"Claire," Martha said, saving the day, "You're getting a little too personal. We barely know Slate, we shouldn't be interfering in her social life."

"But, Mo-o-m..." Claire whined.

"You heard your mother!" Robert barked, more forcefully than I had ever heard him before. "Why don't you and Susan go to your rooms and do your homework."

"B...But, Da..."

"Now!" Robert said, and both girls jumped out of their seats and practically ran out of the room.

"I'm so sorry, Slate," Martha said.

"No," I said, "It's okay, it's just that things are complicated right now. I haven't really finalized things with Ty, though I'm pretty sure we're through, and Jacks is whole other ball game. We actually went on a couple of, well not really 'dates' but last weekend he took me fishing to make up for my ruined fishing day when I met Claire, and we had lunch yesterday before shopping together, but he brings another set of complications!"

"You mean because he's white and you're..."

"Black," I finished for her. "It's all right, you can say it. There's also his job."

"His job?" Robert asked. "What's wrong with his job?"

I explained my issues with law enforcement.

"Well, I can understand your feelings," Robert said, "Even though I can't imagine what it must be like for you. But you should judge everyone as individuals, just as you would want to be treated."

"Thanks, Robert," I said, "You've given me some food for thought, and I will consider what you said."

I said my good-byes to the girls. Claire didn't want me to go, but I explained that I had housework to do, and she reluctantly let me go.

I had a bunch of missed calls and messages from Ty and deleted them all, I just wasn't ready to deal with his shit yet. I took care of business and had another light dinner. I watched some mindless TV with a couple of beers, turning things over in my mind, and went to bed with everything still unresolved.

The sun shining through my window blinds woke me up. I was feeling remarkably refreshed considering the turmoil I was in when I went to bed.

One thing was for sure; Ty and I were through. It wasn't just his taking me for granted, or his messing around with other women, even though I was pretty sure he hadn't slept with any of them, though that was part of it. It was his apparent need to feel like a "playa." He had a Masters degree and a professional job, why did he try to act like a boy from the 'hood?

I called him, and after listening to him rant about the other night, agreed to meet him for lunch. As soon as I walked over to the table, he immediately affirmed my decision.

"Yo, bitch," he said, "Why you have to embarrass me in front of my boys?"

"This is why!" I snapped at him, "You have an MBA and a responsible job, why do you talk and act like a high school drop out? Surely you don't act like this at work."

"That's the point," he said, "at work I have to dress 'appropriately,' speak 'properly,' act professional. I need to get in touch with my roots."

"What the Hell are you talking about? You grew up in the suburbs; I don't think you've ever even seen the 'hood'."

There was nothing he could say; he just sat there fuming.

"Look, Ty, it's nothing against you, we've just run our course."

He tensed up.

"'Run our course,' just what the Hell does that mean?" he said.

"It means we're done. I'm breaking up with you, Ty."

"Who is he?" Ty asked, "I'll break his neck!"

"Th...There's no one else," I said. 'Where the heck did that stammer come from?' I wondered.

"I know you, Slate," Ty said, "You better hope I don't find out who he is, or he's gonna need some good insurance." He pushed his chair back and stomped out.

'Well, that could have gone better,' I thought, 'Was he right? Was I more into Jacks than I realized?'

I threw a few bucks down for the waitress; we never did order anything, and went home to see how much more trouble I could get into.

The first thing I did was check my Email. Most of it was junk; I should probably modify my spam filter, but then I saw one from JMarlowe2. At first I thought it was from Jacks, but then I saw the subject line: "Transfer" and realized that it had to be from Jamison.

I opened the Email, and he introduced himself and thanked me for my offer of help. It was a little later than usual for a transfer application, but we've had later. I replied to his Email attaching the needed forms and urged him to return them ASAP. I then made an appointment to talk to the Dean of Admissions.

I had barely made the appointment when Jacks called, thanking me for helping his brother and inviting me out to dinner.

I was still in a state of confusion after my break-up with Ty, so I begged off until Wednesday when I also might have some information from my meeting with the Dean.

My meeting with the Dean went well. He saw no problem as long as the paperwork was in order. It helped that Jimmy wouldn't need any type of financial aid, and though I never confirmed it for him I think he put "Boston" and "Marlowe" together and was quite pleased at the possibility of a Marlowe attending our school.

Wednesday evening Jacks picked me up, we went to a fairly nice restaurant and were having a nice conversation about Jimmy over our drinks when who should come in but Ty, with the same chick that was on his lap the night of our aborted date.

Of course, he made a beeline to our table.

"Ha, I knew it!" he said, "I knew you had a man on the side. Never thought he'd be a honky, though."

"Jacks is just a friend and we're just trying to have a quiet meal," I said, "Why don't you leave us alone and go hang with your homies."

"Have it your way, Slate, but if you ever need some real lovin' you know where to find me." He then walked over to his "crew," laughing, fist bumping and high-fiving.

I thought that Jacks was going to explode, but I grabbed his hand and said, "Don't, Jacks. He's not worth it."

Fortunately, our food arrived, and we ate quickly and quietly. I could tell that Jacks was seething, and as we left the restaurant, we could hear the laughter and catcalls from Ty's table. It was all I could do to keep Jacks from going over, and who knows what would have happened.

"I'm sorry, Jacks," I said, "I know it may sound odd, but some black guys are very racist, and can't believe that a black woman can be satisfied with a white man."

"How about you, Slate?" Jacks asked grinning, "Do I satisfy you?"

I gave him a punch on the shoulder.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here, Jacks," I said, "We haven't even had a proper date yet."

"Well, let's take care of that right now," he said. He took both of my hands in his. "Slate, would you do me the honor of being my date Saturday night?"

I could barely suppress my giggles, and responded in kind, "Why yes, Jacks, I do believe my social calendar is free. What time may I expect you?"

"You really are a smart-ass, Slate. How about I pick you up for dinner around 6:45, then we can go dancing?"

"That sounds fine," I said. We got into his truck and he took me home. He walked me to my door and hesitated, so I took matters into my own hands, throwing my arms around his neck and giving him a kiss on the lips. We held the kiss for a little longer than I had planned, and just as our lips started to part, I broke the kiss and gently pushed him away.

"Let's save a little for Saturday," I said, "This is pretty new for both of us."

"I understand, Slate," he said, "but when you kissed me I swear I saw stars, I didn't want it to end."

"It was pretty special for me, too," I said, "Jacks, I'm a little on the rebound here, I don't want to rush things." I touched a finger to his lips, then opened the door and went inside. I closed the door, leaning against it with a deep breath and wandered just where I wanted to take this.

Just as I was pulling myself together, my phone rang. 'Not now,' I thought, but I looked at the caller Id, saw that it was Claire and I pressed answer.

"Hi, Claire, what's up?"

"My parents and I were wondering if you'd like to come over for dinner Saturday night."

"Oh, Honey, I'd love to," I said, "but I have a date."

"A date," she said, "That sounds like fun. Who is it?"

"Who are you, my mother?" I teased, "If you must know, it's Jacks."

"I knew it!" she squealed, "I told you Jacks should be your boyfriend."

"Easy, Claire," I said, "It's only one date."

"Yeah," she said, I could almost hear her smirk, "We'll see. Hey, why don't you bring him to church and lunch on Sunday, I know my folks would like to thank him for his help rescuing me."

"Well..." I hesitated, "I'll come but I'll have to ask Jacks, I'll call your mother and let her know."

"That's great, Slate," she said, "I sure hope he comes, we'll have so much fun! Good night, Slate,"

"Good night, Claire," I said, disconnecting the call. Why did I think that I was going to be the object of the fun?

I called Jacks at lunch and relayed the invitation; and I'm not sure if I was happy or not that he eagerly accepted. I had a feeling that this relationship was rapidly getting out of my control.

I got some news on Friday that I decided to wait until Saturday to tell Jacks.

I was bursting to tell Jacks my good news when he picked me up for our date, starting with dinner at Mario's, my favorite Italian restaurant, but I decided to wait just a bit. As our meals were served, I couldn't restrain myself any longer.