Stand Your Ground Chapter 1 There is nothing like being in love with a naked man. Now, I''m not saying that I didn''t love my husband when he was fully clothed. But right now, right here, all I could do was perch myself up on my elbow and enjoy as my husband strutted around our bedroom as if he were looking for something. He wasn''t looking for a doggone thing; Tyrone was just giving me a show. And what a show it was, ''cause there is nothing like a naked, carved, then chiseled to perfection, chocolate man. I sighed and my heart swelled with even more love than I ever thought possible. I didn''t know it could be like this. Didn''t know it could be like this after sixteen years of marriage.
Didn''t know it could be like this after the betrayal of infidelity. "What are you staring at?" Tyrone''s voice broke through my thoughts. He flexed his pecs and inside, I moaned. "What? What are you looking at?" he asked again. Really? He was standing there, full frontal, and he was asking me what I was looking at? Did he want me to describe the human statue of excellence that he was to me? I answered my husband. "Nothing. I''m not looking at anything." He busted out laughing, then leaned over and kissed my forehead.
I tugged at his arm, trying to pull him down on top of me so that I could do more nasty things to him. If our life were a book, it would''ve been titled Love and Sex. It had started with the marriage counselor that my best friend, Syreeta, had referred us to after "the cheating incident." "Stay in the bed," the counselor had advised. "You have to connect again with one another sexually. Once you get the trust back in bed, because that''s where it was broken, you''ll be able to get the trust back in every other aspect of your life." That had just sounded like some man talking at the time. And trust me, it had been hard on both of us.
But after a couple of months, we needed therapy to get us out of bed. It was like we couldn''t stop. And the counselor had been right. We connected again, in bed first, and everything else followed. But even though my husband was always down for second and third sexual helpings, this time he pulled back and I frowned. "Don''t worry," he said. "I''ll be right back." Turning away, he grabbed his bathrobe from the chaise.
"I''m going to check on Marquis. Make sure his homework is done and he''s getting ready to turn in." I bounced back in the bed and sighed. "Tyrone ." "Don''t start, Janice." "It''s barely nine o''clock and you''re sending him to bed? He''s seventeen! Come on, now. When are you going to let up on him?" The expression of pure pleasure that had been on my husband''s face just a minute before faded fast. "Let up on him?" Tyrone grumbled.
"We''re raising a black boy in a white world. I will never let up. I will never go easy. We''ve got just one chance to get this right." "I get that," I said, having heard this lecture so many times. But if he was going to give me his speech, then he was going to once again listen to mine. "It''s been a month since he was suspended. And he''s done everything that we''ve asked him to do.
All he does is go to school and then come home. He''s back on track." "See, that''s my point right there," Tyrone said, jabbing his finger in the air. "He''s back on track. He should never have been derailed in the first place and I want to make sure that he never gets derailed again." "But what else do you want from him? We''ve got to let him know that there is redemption after repentance. We''ve got to teach him that he can do something wrong, but then he can make up for it by doing something right." "He''s a black boy.
In this country, he won''t get a makeup opportunity. In this country, he won''t be given a second chance, and our son has to learn that lesson now." "That may be how it is in this country," I said. "But we''ve got to let him know that it''s not like that in this house. At home, he has to know that we trust him again." Tyrone shook his head. "It was one joint, Tyrone," I said for what had to be the millionth time since our son had received that three-day school suspension a month ago. "Don''t make it out to be any bigger than that.
" When Tyrone opened his mouth to lecture me more, I added, "Don''t forget you smoked when you were in high school." "Yeah, but now that I know better, I''ve done better. And I wasn''t at Winchester Academy when I smoked. I wasn''t at some highfalutin school where the people there were expecting and waiting for me to fail." I sighed as Tyrone went on and on about how our son''s mistake was much worse since he was at Winchester--one of the top college-prep academies in the country. It had been my idea to send Marquis there since I recognized his brilliance from when he was in my womb. Seriously, though, our son was smart and I wanted my only child to have the best opportunities, to give him a future that I could''ve never imagined for myself when I was growing up motherless, fatherless, oftentimes feeling homeless as I was shuffled from one foster home to the next. "You know I''m right, Janice.
" Tyrone broke through my thoughts. "Those white folks don''t want him there, and he goes around acting a fool." "He was acting like a seventeen-year-old ." I held up my hand before Tyrone could pounce on my words. "And yes, he was wrong," I continued. "But he''s learned his lesson and all I want you to see is that Marquis is a good kid. A really good kid who''s going to do great things in life." "I know he has that potential.
But if he''s going to be great, he has to understand that he can''t get caught up. He has to do everything right." "Everything right? Really?" It took all that was inside of me not to shake my head and roll my eyes at this man. Sometimes Tyrone spoke as if he were the only parent with dreams for our son, but I wanted the same, perhaps even more, for Marquis. While Tyrone focused on his academics, accepting nothing less than straight A''s, I focused on the fullness of the life that I prayed Marquis would have. I wanted him to be well educated, but happy, with a wife and plenty of children who called me Grandma. I wanted to see him grow up doing the things he loved, playing the saxophone and piano, writing poetry, and participating in amateur golf tournaments. But none of that extracurricular stuff mattered to Tyrone.
He was a strict disciplinarian who walked a straight military line. I understood structure and parental control; it was just that sometimes, Tyrone was so strict, even I felt stifled. "I am letting up a little bit," Tyrone said as if he heard my thoughts. "I let him go out tonight, didn''t I?" I couldn''t help it; I laughed. "You let him go to the library!" Tyrone grinned with me. "I let him go to the library . with Heather," he said, referring to our son''s girlfriend. While those words made Tyrone smile, the thought made me want to shout, and I wasn''t talking about shouting hallelujah! This discussion was going fine--why did Tyrone even have to bring up Marquis''s girlfriend? His white girlfriend.
She was the only thing that made me regret busting my butt, working those extra shifts at the post office so that we could send Marquis to Winchester. "I guess you don''t have nothin'' to say now, huh?" Tyrone chuckled. My husband was torturing me and he knew it. He knew how I felt about Marquis bringing that girl home when there were all these beautiful black girls that he knew from growing up in church, and even a few at Winchester. Every day, I brought up a new name to him, but Marquis could not be moved. I have no idea where I went wrong, but sometime after Marquis became a teenager, he suddenly and only had eyes for girls who looked like Snow White. It sickened me, though his son''s preference for girls with blond hair and blue eyes didn''t seem to bother Tyrone. I didn''t get that.
My husband was always talking about white people this and white people that and how he lived in this country, but he was not of this country. Well, why didn''t he have an issue with his son dating a white girl? "Okay, I won''t tell him that he has to turn in," Tyrone said, saving me from myself. Because thoughts of Heather were getting me riled up. Now that Tyrone had mentioned Heather, I was beginning to think maybe we should keep Marquis on lockdown (and away from that white girl) until he left for college in the fall. "Thank you," I said to Tyrone. "But I''m still gonna talk to him. Make sure that his head is on straight since I did let him go out earlier. And I''m going to talk to him about the suspension .
" This time I did roll my eyes. "Make sure he understands the seriousness of it." "He does." "Make sure he knows it could''ve messed with his scholarship to UPenn." "He knows." "Make sure he understands why he won''t be valedictorian now, even though he earned it." "He understands." "Well, if you can guarantee that he knows all of that, then he''s off lockdown.
" Tyrone shook his head. "You''re a softy, you know." He kissed me again as he tied his robe. "Our son better thank you, ''cause if you weren''t so cute ." I laughed, but then stop.