They called my name twelve minutes later.
“Oh, I’m sat, H-Town. Wow me.”
I got up slow and headed to the stage. Took the mic.
“This is for you, Sweet Tea.”
When the opening keys to Baby I'm Ready moved through the speakers I heard her from across the room before I even found her face. Not a laugh. Something that started like one and became something else halfway through.
She was shocked that I could actually sing. I found her in the amber light and sang to her straight. No performance. No showboating. Just Gerald Levert's words in a grown man’s mouth aimed at a woman who needed to be reminded that on any day that ended in a y, she was the prize.
A man that was ready. That was the whole song. That was all I had to say.
By the second verse, she wasn’t making a sound. Just watching me with both hands around her glass, her lips slightly parted, and her eyes lowered. I knew that look. I had been cataloging her expressions since that first day in Norwood’s office, and that one meant something had reachedher.
I handed the mic back. Walked to the booth. Sat down.
The table was quiet.
“That,” she said, “was not fair. You never told me you could sing.”
I shrugged. “You said I couldn’t outlove you, and I don’t plan on letting you be right about that.”
She looked down at her glass. A smile she was fighting. “Gerald Levert, Houston. You went and got Gerald Levert to help?”
“He said it better than I could.”
She looked up at me and the smile won. Then it softened into something else and she said quiet, “He doesn't mean anything to me. The man they sold the date to. I need you to know that.”
“I know.”
“My whole life people have found a way to make me useful without making me feel like I matter. And I keep showing up anyway because that's who I am, and I'm not going to apologize for it. Won't cry about it either.” She exhaled. “So I appreciate you Houston. You showed up and you showed out.” She pointed toward the stage.
“I did.”
She got still.
“I showed up because I haven’t had any other thoughts but you,” I said. “I went home and cleaned up and put on something decent because I wanted to show up for you the right way. You deserve that. I’ve been knowing it and moving too slow.”
She didn't say anything for a moment. Then she reached across the table and her fingers found mine and held on and I let them.
We stayed like that, singing along and talking low, until the room thinned out.
“Come back to my place,” I said as we made it out to the car. I let go of her hand to help her in and came around. She still hadn't answered, so I turned to look at her.
She turned her head and looked at me. “Okay. I'd like that.”
At my place, she kicked her heels off at the door, and I locked it behind us. The night had been perfect. A night I wouldn’t forget, and I hoped she wouldn’t either.
I crossed the room and pulled her into my chest.
“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”
“I did,” she whispered as I kissed her neck softly.
“Good,” I said, easing the thin straps of her dress off her shoulders. I took my time with her. All of it unhurried, all of it intentional. Learning her the way she deserved to be learned. Whatever she wanted she got. Her moans when I found her spot sent me somewhere I didn't want to come back from, and I had no intention of rushing.
I was just finally showing up the way I should have been showing up and letting her feel the difference.