New Sensations Read online

  “It’s no problem, sweet lady, I understand you need time with your friends. Seein’ a new city is always somethin’ to look forward to.”

  There was a pause and then his voice came back on the line.

  “I should probably go over some paperwork tonight anyways. How about this? Will you spend the afternoon with me tomorrow? I still have one more person that I’m hopin’ to reintroduce you to.”

  Another afternoon off meant that I would miss another workshop. I didn’t want to have to inconvenience my pals with covering for me again; nonetheless, I desperately wanted to be with Jackson again – and soon.

  “That sounds great. What time?”

  “How about I pick you up at where you’re stayin’ at about one o’clock.”

  “Alright, I’ll be waiting.”

  “Make sure you have some comfortable walking shoes on.”

  “Huh? Why?”

  “I’ll tell you more tomorrow when we meet up,” he laughed again. “You sure this won’t interfere too much with your work.”

  “No, not really,” I told a half truth, “Besides, I really want to see you in person again.”

  “Same here. Listen, I don’t wanna’ keep you too long. I’ll be thinkin’ of you in the meantime.”

  “Same here,” I blushed a shade redder.

  “Enjoy your day, baby, and I’ll get to hold you again tomorrow.”

  “Bye.”

  I wasn’t sure what words to use to express my eagerness to be near Jackson again, so I let the phone click off and started re-counting down the minutes until our appointed reunion.

  11

  The rest of the afternoon and even the evening seemed to drag on for an endless stretch of time.

  Though I tried to make the most of my workshops – thankfully, Andre had chosen a separate agenda – and also made a wholehearted attempt at enjoying the glitz of the new city we toured later that day, my mind continuously floated back to Jackson. I never knew that it was possible to actually yearn for someone. That was an expression I had read about in novels, watched characters act out in movie theatres, even heard other close friends mention when recalling their torrid tales, yet I had not been given the opportunity to experience this craving firsthand – until now.

  At twelve in the afternoon on Wednesday, Rita begrudgingly drove me back to the Crystal Springs bed and breakfast. She said a quick so-long and promised to sign my name on a few more attendance sheets. Though we had talked out the tension that was mounting between us the day before, I still felt that there was a cold stone wall dividing us. The laughs just didn’t seem to flow as readily and I wasn’t ready to have a repeat conversation, especially when Jackson and I only had a few more days remaining together. The issues hanging over Rita and I may have to wait until we returned home and back to the real world.

  Like the changing of the guard, Rita sped from the parking lot and Jackson pulled his truck in and stepped out. As his long legs and broad frame motioned toward me, I caught a glimpse of what he was holding in his left hand. The breath was nearly snatched from my lungs as Jackson stopped his big body in front of me and handed me a long stemmed pink rose.

  “A rose for my sweetheart,” he said and then placed a warm kiss on my trembling lips. His sentiment had brought a slight tear to the corner of each eye.

  I accepted the fully blossomed flower as well as the second kiss on the cheek that came with the gift. I inhaled the pleasant aroma of a freshly cut flower and was flooded with anticipation from all of the possibilities the spring season brings.

  “At first, I wasn’t sure which color to get you,” he spoke while wrapping his heavy hand around me and turning toward the entrance of the building. “Then, I thought about what I already knew about you and I was sure that any shade of pink would be your favorite.”

  He was dead-on with his observation. Even now, the local temperature had soared higher and I was wearing a hot pink tank top and white shorts and walking shoes.

  “How do you know me so well?”

  As we walked I laced my arm through his bent elbow and enjoyed how his mighty six foot two height towered over me.

  “Hm, let’s see,” his blue eyes lifted to the sky and pondered for a moment. “Maybe because you were always meant to be my girl. Maybe I’ve been waitin’ this whole time for you to show up so I could give you my heart and seduce you into givin’ me yours.”

  I giggled at his teasing and he winked down at me.

  “I wonder what took me so long to get here,” I chimed in on his playful mood.

  “I wonder that too. I also wonder why you’re thinkin’ about leavin’ so soon.”

  I didn’t have a readymade comeback for that statement so I turned my attention to our walk. Each moment that Jackson and I spent together was another moment that I wanted to delay a return trip back east. But what sensible person puts the rest of her life to the side so she can run off with her true love? It’s just not something that a sane person would do – or is it?

  As we walked, I noticed that we were headed in the opposite direction, away from his truck and past the land where the bed and breakfast was seated on.

  “I thought you were taking me to meet someone.”

  “I sure am. We’ll be there in less than five minutes.”

  It was then that I noticed we were headed straight toward the two-story house that was located at the rear of the vast property. I had not taken the time to ask anyone about the property and admit that I had forgotten it was back here.

  The closer we moved toward our destination, I saw just how beautiful the home was. Deep red brick, lined by fresh white paint, and tall, slim clear paned windows that lined up around the front and side caused the building to stand picturesque and genteel against a rolling green background that was capped by mighty mountains and bordered by a thick forest.

  When we came to the wood logged fence surrounding the spacious property, Jackson unlatched the hook that bound the gate to the rest of enclosure and pulled it back so that I could step through. We walked the rest of the way toward the house, hands clasped together, with my mind restless about who was waiting for us inside that home.

  Once we arrived at the grand entryway, a laced white lattice arching over a pecan colored thick oak door, my palm started to moisten.

  Jackson tugged at my hand.

  “It’s alright, Janay, she’s gonna’ love you.”

  She?

  Forget moistened, my hands had become flat out sweaty.

  Jackson turned the brass knob and pushed the door open.

  “Ma, are you in here?” he called inside the silent interior.

  When he said the word Ma, I thought I would faint dead away. I wasn’t even halfway dressed to meet a man’s mother. My hair was still flying loose, I hadn’t put a layer of lip gloss on in days, my clothes were all wrong, and when I looked down at my white sneaks, the fresh grass had turned the top and edges lime green – lime green! If Jackson hadn’t been holding so securely to my hand, I would have turned and ran in a heartbeat.

  A flash of hope crossed my mind. Maybe she wasn’t here yet. Perhaps there was still time to head back in the other direction before she had a chance to sneak up.

  “I’m back here, Jackson!” a woman’s voice sounded out from a short distance away.

  Damn.

  Jackson’s pace quickened as he pulled me by the hand through the doorway and across a carpeted and beautifully decorated foyer, connected living and dining rooms, and finally stopping at the rear of first floor in the white tiled kitchen.

  A slim woman, who was significantly shorter than Jackson, with curly reddish brown hair was chopping onions on a cutting board next to the stainless steel sink.

  When she turned to face us, I was a bundle of nerves. What would she think of her son – I’m supposing her only child – bringing this peculiar black girl into her home unannounced? Would she be upset, hostile, or maybe eerily silent? All of the above?

  Once my eyes landed on her fac
e and gazed at her features, the woman was familiar to me, though I couldn’t quite place where I had seen her before today.

  The older woman, probably mid-forties, but with smooth and creamy peach colored skin smiled, a warm and welcoming smile. A smile that put a big chunk of my worries to the wayside and reminded me of someone else that I knew – Jackson. He had his mother’s heart melting grin and also her unique and serene ice blue eyes. He must have gotten his height and brawny body from his father.

  “It’s so nice to meet you again, Janay.” Her voice was soft but rich, with a slight twang, and gave me a cozy and relaxed feeling.

  When she said again it suddenly dawned on me who she was. She was the same woman who had greeted us the first day at the front desk. The bright smile and kind face were one and the same as before.

  My mind floated back to when Jackson had said reintroduce when we spoke over the phone yesterday. I had thought maybe he merely used the wrong terminology, it does happen to even the brightest of us from time to time.

  I was a little heated at his subtle, but ingenious, play on words. I cocked my eye up at Jackson, feeling as though he had been playing a huge practical joke on me. Never once had he mentioned that his mother was co-owner and hostess of the residence that I was lodging at. And though he still had not confirmed his ownership of the Crystal Springs bar, I was now convinced that this was an undeniable fact.

  A sudden buzz of laughter caught my ear and softened my gaze.

  “I know this must come as a bit of a surprise, dear,” Jackson’s mother mused. “The look you just handed my boy was enough to slap a grown man down.”

  I fixed my mouth to apologize and his mother waved the unspoken statement away, her mood was full of jolly cheer.

  “No need, dear, no need. Jackson had it comin’. I told him to tell you who I was the very first day he walked through that door with his eyes all bright and talkin’ about this beautiful girl he had met up with the previous night.”

  Jackson had told his mother about me the day after we met. I wondered how serious his feelings for me really were. How deep did his emotions for me run after less than a handful of days? More than that, did I share the same intense connection and dedication to him?

  As if reading my thoughts, Jackson squeezed my hand while his mother continued on, and I felt his passion for me flow through his touch.

  “But, Jackson here insisted on doin’ it the proper way and bringin’ you to our home so that he could make the introductions in person. Though, at the moment, it seems he is bein’ somewhat tongue tied.”

  His mother’s last words pulled Jackson out of whatever hypnosis he was in. When I angled my head to look at him, I saw that he had been staring at me with a twinkle in his eyes.

  Jackson’s easy timbre spoke up without him ever taking his gaze off of me.

  “Janay Parker,” my name resounded tenderly from his lips, “I am so pleased to present you to my mother, Annette Bryant.”

  My face was flushed when I extended my free hand shyly to Jackson’s mother.

  “It’s so wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Bryant.”

  “Oh, stop that,” she opened her arms wide, “I’m sure my sister, Bea, already told you there are no handshakes in this family, only hugs all around.”

  Jackson reluctantly released my hand so that I could move forward and accept his mother’s embrace. She pulled me into her thin arms and hugged me tight. It was funny – but not really – how a woman whom I barely knew was so much more affectionate toward me than my own mother had ever been.

  She patted me on the back once more before letting go.

  “And as for the Mrs…you can just call me Annie, everyone else does.”

  “Okay,” I said with a smile.

  “So where are you two kids off to this afternoon?”

  “I was gonna’ take Janay over to the spring,” Jackson said and tossed his head toward the open window.

  “Well, well,” Annie’s grin spread out wide, “that sounds lovely. You better get started now so you can be there before dark fall. It’s a beautiful day to take that walk.”

  Annie’s eyes dropped down to my feet and embarrassment washed over me.

  “Those are cute shoes, dear, but they won’t get you ten feet further up that trail without you comin’ back with some serious calluses.” She walked over to the closet embedded in the wall nearest the screened back door and cracked it open. “You look like you’re about the same shoe size as me…let me see what I have down here.”

  In an instant, she pulled out a pair of tan hiking boots, with thick rubber soles.

  “Try these on while I go get you a pair of clean socks from the laundry. Those should fit you just right. If they don’t, you let me know and I’ll hustle up something to at least give you some extra paddin’ in your own shoes.”

  She walked back to the other side of the whitewashed kitchen and opened up the sliding door where the washing machine and dryer were placed in a tight cutout from the main room. It didn’t take Annie long to produce a starched white pair of freshly washed socks and then she handed them over to me.

  “Ya’ll take your time and be safe. Cliff and his friends think they might have seen a bear passin’ through,” she said while hugging me one more time. “Dinner should be ready by the time you get back.”

  All the while, Jackson was leaning one elbow on the marble countertop. I could tell by the pleased look on his face that he was absolutely ecstatic that his mother and I were already getting along so well.

  The boots fit perfectly and Annie was a Godsend to lend them to me. She was right about the terrain being too rough for the type of sneakers that I was wearing.

  The lush grass of the flat plane surrounding the house was heavy laiden with pebbles and other larger rocks hidden below the tall blades of green. Once Jackson and I entered the forest that was at the edge of the property, the land continously sloped upward at a steep angle the further we moved inward. Jackson led the way and, at regular intervals, would turn to take my hands and guide me over a rough patch up land or lift me up over a large rock outcropping. The air was ripe with the sounds of nature – birds, bees, squirrels, and other wildlife – carrying on with the cycle of their day as we journeyed forward still.

  As we walked along, Jackson explained that his dad had passed away last summer. Jax’s father, Jackson Bryant, Jr. worked long hours at the family owned bar and still made time to help out his father, the original Jackson, at the country suites as well. One hot summer night, his body overly exhausted from the double duties, Jackson Junior fell asleep at the wheel and slid off the road and into a steep ditch. Another car passing by heard the blaring of the truck horn as his father lay unconscious against it. He clung to life for a few more days after the accident but his body was too weaken to recover. Jackson didn’t say this aloud, but I heard the guilt in his voice. He had been away at school, finishing up his Summer Session when the tragedy had occurred. Afterward, he added a few more courses to his fall semester and completed his degree ahead of schedule so that he could help his mom and grandfather handle the family businesses. By some sad misfortune, the bar’s finances had strank and Jackson was struggling to raise capital to pay off the debt his father had left outstanding on the property. I listened in silence and offered comments only when I sensed they were necessary. Jackson was still working through his grief and my best support was to be his open ear not his judge or financial advisor. I countered the conversation by sharing details about my life, my work, and my dad who had passed away a few years ago from a congential heart defect that no one had ever known he had. I told Jackson about how much I missed my father’s presence, because he was my closest link to what a real family was supposed to feel like.

  When we exited the back edge of the forest, the land mounted up high as giant boulders loomed ahead and a sharp cliff dropped down low on my righthand side. I jumped away, startled at the sudden change in scenery, overcome by its colossal appearance and possibility of danger.<
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  Jackson took my hands and guided me forward again.

  “Easy, sweetheart, I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise. It’s only a little farther to go.”

  With each new step, I placed more of my life and my safety into this man’s hands. I was thankful for his bravery and patience because, without them to find comfort in, I would not have inched one more foot in any direction. Another survey of our surroundings and I realized that we had entered the lower half of the grand mountain range I had spied out before.

  We traveled another fifty feet through jagged rock and then passed through a slim passage cut between two monolithic sized boulders before the land finally opened back up into a flat green plane again. The sound of cascading water drew my head to the right and a free flowing stream, about ten feet wide, was gushing from a source further up the next heap of mountains. The rushing force of the water had cut a path back down straight through the mass of rock we had just passed by.

  Jackson stepped up behind me, circled his muscular arms around my shoulders and laid his hands over my stomach.

  “Welcome to Crystal Springs,” he whispered to me.

  We stood in silence, taking in the majesty of the serene scene. After a few moments, Jackson walked over to a flat patch of grass and rolled out a blanket. His mother had given him specific instructions that she didn’t want me getting all dirty from the dew on the grass or from the wet dirt beneath.

  “Go on over and have a look,” he called out to me.

  For the first time in about an hour and a half, I wasn’t afraid to take a step without his supportive hold. And what I saw was beyond any accurate description.

  The water flowed clear and the sunlight shining down on the glistening and churning liquid caused the surface to sparkle like tiny diamonds or crystals. The effect was so life-like, the urge to reach down and pluck one from the water was nearly overwhelming. Below the surface, multicolored stones sat stationary while miniature fish swam in circles amongst the tiny pebbles.

  “It’s amazin’, isn’t it?”