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She takes a moment to study me, then asks, "Uh, huh. And how are you feeling about tonight? Are you okay with everything?"
Well, let's see. Wayne's off with his team members at a bar celebrating and being gawked at by other women trying to secure a bag from a baller, so talking about how I feel might not be the best option. "I'm fine," I tell her, then point to the flowers and balloons affixed to the stair railing leading up to the second floor and all of the other decorations. "Did Wayne have this arranged before he left home?"
Her weathered brown skin gives way to a few wrinkles at the corners of her eyes that show her concern over the cranky attitude I’m obviously doing a poor job hiding. "He did. He told me what to do in case of a win or a loss. Thankfully, he won, so the decorations are more festive. You know how much I love to decorate, so I didn't want to have to lay out you guys' pajamas and start a bath with Epsom salt, which was the plan for a loss. I much rather have the house decorated with team color rosesand set out a romantic scene in your bedroom for your postgame celebrations." Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, and her eyes widen. "Wait, maybe I should let you go up and see the good part for yourself."
I trek up the blue and yellow rose-covered stairs with Marjorie following me. When I reach the top, I notice the bedroom door has a"Do Not Disturb"sign on the handle. I glance at Marjorie, and her concern has changed to giddiness.
"Open it," she presses.
I enter the bedroom decked out with blue and yellow roses everywhere. Candlelight is the source of light for the room. Simple, elegant, and romantic is Wayne’s style. Staring at what he has done for his special night makes me forget my disappointment of not being able to rush to the field. The urge for a heated discussion over it fades. Is that even important anyway? We don't need to argue. We need to get intimate, so I can show him how proud I am that he is taking his team into the playoffs and, eventually, the Super Bowl.
I turn and tell Marjorie, "Everything is beautiful. Thank you for all you do for us."
She waves my compliment away. "Wayne is like a son to me. Plus, he pays me well to come over and help him spoil you. I say enjoy the hell out of your night if you know what I mean." She winks. As she retreats from the room, she suggests, "Start with the warm bath before it gets cold. I'm going to the guesthouse tonight, but I'm only a phone call away if you need anything."
"Okay, thanks. I'll start my bath and wait for Wayne to come home."
Marjorie waves as she closes the bedroom door.
I enter the bathroom and immediately want to immerse myself in the tub filled with blue bath salts and floating yellow roses. An oversized wine glass sits on a small tub-side table withmy current read. Music from the musical genius Tems plays softly in the background.
If Wayne doesn’t do anything else in life correctly, he will always have Marjorie set the postgame win mood for us. I love him for this.
We prayed for this night to come. He had no cause for a celebration like this a year ago. He was just a young NFL player trying to make his mark. And he did that tonight.
It took time for him to get his chance to lead as the starting quarterback, which is a reminder that great things happen in due time.
I'm a patient woman. I’m already waiting, so I'll wait some more for Wayne to feel comfortable enough to share our relationship with others. I've waited to turn our two-year engagement into a marriage.
I'm waiting for him to tell the rest of his family about me and eventually the world. I'm waiting for him to come home tonight and remember that it’s our second engagement anniversary.
An hour passes and then two. I have refreshed the warm water and bath salt. I'm still soaking, reading my book, with soft music humming in the background…waiting.
Chapter Five
WAYNE
Dive In
I enter my massive home, built shortly after my first football contract. When I purchased my home, I had my future family in mind. Finding Leslie made everything complete. She moved in, and her presence alone made this a special place for us. I love seeing my woman stroll around my house, bringing beauty and joy to every room she graces.
I remember our meeting like it was yesterday.
The guys and I walked into the sneaker store where she worked, and as soon as I looked at her, I felt an instant attraction. As usual, the guys were showing their asses, cat-calling her and demanding she come to our section to serve us immediately.
Rich and Jeremiah threw their status around like a badge of honor, telling her we were football royalty and she should treat us like it.When she told them they needed to settle down, Jeremiah told her she was taking her “little sneaker store job” too seriously and bragged he could get any pair of shoes in that store free from the shoe company.
Leslie all but gave them the middle finger. She didn't give a damn about our money and invited us all to leave the store if we couldn't show her more respect. At that very moment, I knew I had met my future wife.
Standing in the Nike section next to Rich, listening to his boisterous demands to be served, I told him to chill out. But Leslie had already had enough of his bad attitude and cursedhim out. After she read him for filth, we left the store before mall security had the chance to show up.
We clowned Rich for getting put in his place on the ride home, but what I'd just witnessed stuck with me.Leslie wasn’t a fan girl. The size of our “football royalty” bank accounts didn’t make her smile or flirty.
The following week, I didn't return to the mall with my teammates for our weekly sneaker trip. I went a day early to see if I could catch up with the sassy girl from the sneaker store.
She was working with another customer when I walked in, so I waited.
"Can I take you on a date?" I asked as soon as she was alone.
