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Scent From Heaven - A Journey For Love, by Crysta Fox ...................................................an excerpt
When I was a young girl, just
barely tall enough to reach the top of the oak kitchen table, my grandmother
Libby Jean used to bake cookies with me and my older brother, and would
tell us stories about some of the White families that she used to care
for when she was younger. She talked about waking up at four o’clock
in the morning and preparing bread, grape jam, and milk for her three
children and husband to eat for breakfast, along with ham sandwiches
for lunch. She talked about the hour-long bus ride on a dusty road she
endured, traveling over to the fancy side of town where the roads had
been paved smooth. She spoke about the times when she was called to
be more than the cook and cleaning lady for some of these families.
Nana Libby would often find herself bathing their children, cutting
hair, fixing leaky faucets, and even being a shoulder to cry on for
whoever needed it. Then after eight hours of dealing with the issues
of the families who employed her, she’d take that hour-long bus ride
back to her side of town to deal with the issues of her own family:
cooking dinner, settling arguments, listening to each child read a bible
verse, making clothes, and ironing grandpa Earl’s postal uniform so
it’d be ready for him in the morning. I used to think God must’ve given
Nana Libby an extra scoop of energy because she was doing so much for
so many people. At the end of each of her stories though, she’d always
tell us "As long as I’m movin’ and God is gettin’ the glory, I won’t
complain." At the time, I don’t think I quite understood what she meant,
yet somehow, I believed her.
~ ~
I got home from church a little while ago and threw on my Tennessee
Titan’s jersey to get ready for the game, even though my favorite daydream
candidate Eddie George isn’t playing for them anymore. I’m making some
turkey bacon-wrapped shrimp just the way Quincy likes, but I should
probably go mist myself with one of those girly sprays so I don’t smell
like bacon grease when he gets here; not that he’d actually care what
I smelled like. For my own peace of mind though, hot grease is not the
scent that I’m going for today. He’ll probably come in and make fun
of my Titan’s jersey before anything. Mm… Quincy… What can I say about
that man?
Quincy is one of the coolest and most handsome friends that I have ever had. We met last year at a bar-b-q. It was one of those gorgeous September days with amazing blue skies, cool breezes, and a rare non-traffic day on the 405fwy. Most folks had left town early to take advantage of the three-day holiday. Back then, my hair was long and had lots of body and movement, so we - my friend Kayla and I - opened the sunroof on her car and let the wind have its way through our newly permed tresses. Along with my spaghetti-strapped dress that hung a little and clung a lot, open-toed clogs and two silver toe-rings; that day I was looking too cute to care! So, we’d been there about fifteen minutes, mingling as best we could since Kayla only knew one other person there and I only knew her. I’d just finished adjusting my dress around the cleavage area when Quincy Brooks strut all 6’2” of his manly self into the backyard. Now, because I’d faithfully studied athletic men’s bodies during football season for so many years, I was able to immediately estimate that he weighed a hundred and ninety-five pounds, with about seven percent body fat. He would later confirm during the course of our friendship that I was correct. That being said, when I saw him, I swear my jaw dropped so fast to the ground that it shook the earth about a 3.5 on the Richter scale! While watching him seemingly glide across the grass, it was as if the world stood still for about the length of three Spike Lee movies. Now, I’m a Texan with a bit of a sweet tooth, and the moment I saw that fine man entering into the atmosphere of smoked ribs and honey baked beans, my tooth started aching for some of that chocolate-coated Adonis! Quincy was thee finest man I’d ever seen, and I do mean ever! He knew he had it going on too, but you couldn’t be mad at him for that. There was something about him that made even his cockiness attractive. He was having a Tylenol PM kind-of affect on me: strong and immediate satisfaction. His style was Ralph Lauren mixed with Sean Jean: urban sophistication. He was wearing khaki-colored loose-fitted pants - linen I think, a tucked in white short-sleeved shirt, and a silver herringbone that illuminated against his smooth, chocolaty chest. He also wore a small silver hoop in his left ear and a white leather visor around his mini Afro. He capped off his stylish look with brown leather sandals and belt, and a pair of two-toned glasses. He ignited my sweet tooth something crazy that day, and I just knew the fillings in my teeth were going to pop out of my mouth, land in front of him, and spell out: M.A.R.R.Y. M.E. “Oh-my-God! Kayla, who is that guy?” “I don’t know, Jasmine. Mm! He must be that new model of sexy that I keep reading about.” Kayla replied as she checked him out with the same curious head-tilt that I had. I’d say that Quincy and I must’ve talked for over two hours straight that afternoon, and it was more than obvious that something special was developing between us. It was something stronger than the scent of those hickory-smoked ribs that we’d been smelling all day, something cooler than the bottles of beer being passed around, and something more magnetic than the flies circling ‘round the potato salad bowl. We teased each other and laughed hard like we were in the front row at Def Comedy Jam. The way we clicked in those two hours was like we had known each other for years and years, and it was by far the best time that I’d shared with a man in a good while. I know that sounds pretty pathetic but it’s true. Little did I realize that meeting Quincy on that specially tailored September day might impact my life as quickly as it would and as much as it did! It’s been a year and darn-near a hundred some-odd outings later and Quincy and I are still great friends and running buddies. We still flirt, crack jokes, and occasionally cuddle with each other, minus the kissing. Up until about two months ago, everything was cool with how I viewed my relationship with him but then dilemma entered my life and forced me to start reevaluating everything. Isn’t it just like dilemma to show up when things are seemingly good? Most of my relationship apprehensiveness stems from the fact that I went through a lot of mess with men back in the day, and I’m still recovering from them. Plus, with dating in general, we Christian women have to be so darn cautious and selective nowadays. In the past, we really only asked about a guy’s marital status, but things have changed so much and we better know all the extras: criminal, medical, and/or mental issues, is he even interested in women, and what’s his religious or spiritual maturity looking like? Is he saved and trying to live righteous or have he and the devil become homeboys and cut-buddies? I don’t want to mess this up if he could be the one for me and I don’t want to wait too long on making a decision concerning this. I just have so many questions and maybe I should’ve thought more seriously about these things two months ago. Maybe I should just be silent and lift it up in prayer. At any rate, my answers are coming so I guess we’ll see. ~ ~ Excerpted
from Scent From Heaven, A Journey For Love by Crysta Fox Copyright ©
2010 by Crysta Fox. Excerpted by permission of SavvyWorld Enterprises.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted
without permission in writing from the publisher.
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