Story Notes:
I apoligize whole heartedly to anyone who may be offended. I don't agree with the views of a certain character in this particular piece, being that I am Black myself, but again apologies in advance and please enjoy the reading.

It’s Valentine’s Day and Justin surprised me with a beautiful evening out. It was so unexpected. I was folding some of Taylor’s cute little footie pajamas when he came whirling into the laundry room.

 

“Hey baby.” He greeted smoothly. “Hey.” I sang to him as he enveloped my waist in his arms. I folded a Bob the Builder shirt and set it in the neat pile. “What are you up to?” I asked suspiciously. “What makes you think I’m up to something?” That crooked smile of his was a dead give away.

           

I shook my brown locks and went back to folding up the clothes. “Hey.” He said softly. I felt him nudge my chin up to look at him and he peered over my face warmly with those soft blue orbs of his. “Happy Valentine’s day.” I stretched on my tippy toes to plant my lips firmly on his. “Happy Valentine’s day to you too.”

           

 I smiled at him lovingly before picking up the stack of folded clothes and setting them in the basket. “So, do you have anything in particular planned tonight?” He rocked on his toes like a child and I turned to face him.

 

Well actually I had planned on cooking him a nice spaghetti dish, my own secret recipe. He usually only gets it on special occasions. Then I thought maybe I’d make him sit and watch sappy movies and let him deny that he’s getting all teary eyed until he finally gets so mushy that I can just take him upstairs and...well I won’t go into details.

           

“Maybe just a few.” I grinned at him before strutting toward the door with the basket. “Well I’m sorry babe, you’ll just have to reschedule.” I turned to gawk at him. Please don’t tell me Timbaland has called him into the studio tonight. I see him scarce enough as it is. And for him to actually have Valentine’s Day off, it’s like once every blue moon, he can’t go.

           

“Justin, if you have to go into the studio tonight-” “Rachel, babe, no. I don’t have to go into the studio tonight.” I sighed with relief at that news. “But, I think you need to go get dressed.” He grinned sweetly. “I am dressed.” I squeaked looking over my long summer skirt and button down lavender blouse. “No I mean, dressed.”

 

He wiggled his brows at me and I glared at him strangely. “We’re gong somewhere?” “I’m taking you any and every where you want to go tonight. I want you to beat me up. I am giving you total permission to think back to all those nights when I was on the road and you wanted me here. It’s your night.”

           

I couldn’t believe my ears. “But what about Taylor?” “Mom’s coming to get him in an hour; she’s keeping him for the night.” My chest sinks. Me and Justin, alone, for one night? I haven’t had that in forever. Usually it’s always his phone going off, something to do with album promotion, or we’re taking care of our son, which don’t get me wrong, I love every minute I spend with Taylor, but when we get to bed, I don’t know about him, but I’m pooped.

           

“Really? Are you sure?” “Babe,” He lured over me placing his hands gently around my jaw. “Its all you tonight.” I felt my cheeks blush and he kissed me deeply. “Now gimme those clothes and go get ready.” I headed for the door slowly. I still couldn’t believe it. “Go on.” His hand gave my behind a good whack and I stumbled out of the room to get ready.

          

  I had begun to get myself prepared, truly I tried, but then I thought of Taylor and what he might need when Lynn came to get him. “Rachel, what the hell are you doing?” Justin scolded as he stepped into the doorway of Taylor’s bedroom. I had his little Go Diego duffle bag on the bed and I filled it with all his favorite things. His spider man jammies, his night light, his Dragon Ball Z action figures, he had to have those.

           

“Babe, I’ve already packed for him, what are you doing?” “Justin you call that packing.” I’d seen the bag Justin had packed. A pair of pants, his batman shirt instead of his favorite incredible hulk one. His Bob the builder socks and not his blues clues booties! And there wasn’t a Dragon Ball Z action figure in sight, only his Gumbi man. Gumbi man was so last week! Be serious!

 

“Justin, no, I have to get his toothbrush.” “It’s already in there.” I pulled out a small yellow brush with a purple dinosaur. “Barney! Justin you know he likes the one that sings!” “Rach, put it down.” “But-” “Put it down.” I set the toothbrush in the bag sadly. “Now go get ready, you not anybody else.”

           

My shoulders slouched as I slunk passed him throwing him a pitiful look. “Go on.” He urged sternly keeping his eyes on me as I went. I moped to the stairs and when he wasn’t looking I took off running for the bathroom. “Rachel!” He hollered after me. “I HAVE TO GET THE ONE THAT SINGS!”

           

Well, in case you’re wondering I finally got myself dressed. I decided on a nice clingy black dress and heels. Not bad huh? I gave Lynn the long list of likes and dislikes, musts and must always, before she took him off to her house. She gave me the strangest look before she left. You don’t think maybe I was being too overprotective do you? Course not.

           

“Good evening my name is Marcel and I will be your waiter, may I start you off with some champagne?” “Oh no no.” I protest. “Not for me, I don’t drink thanks.” Justin smirks and tells the waiter to bring a bottle of his finest Chardonnay. “Fine choice sir, I’ll be back in a moment. Mean while why don’t you have a look over the menu.” Marcel hands us three menus and before Justin can correct him he’s off to get the Chardonnay.

           

“Justin you know I don’t drink.” “Babe, just for tonight, it’s a special occasion. Just try a little.” I’ve never had alcohol believe it or not. I’m twenty five and never even tasted a beer. I don’t know why. I’ve just never thought it would taste good. When I was in high school some of my friends used to hang out and drink Budweiser and it always left their breath smelling like vomit to me. Or maybe that was because they drank so much it made them vomit. I’m not sure. But either way it didn’t look too appetizing.

           

 “Here you are sir. Your Chardonnay.” “Thank you.” Justin smiles politely. He holds a glass up and let’s Marcel fill it for me. “Oh oh! That’s enough.” I cry after a small dose sloshes to the bottom. Justin chuckles at me and sets the glass by my plate. I swish the yellow bubbles around and watch them percolate in my glass.

          

  “Have you decided, or will you be waiting for your third party?” I glare at Marcel and then at Justin. “Third party?” Justin looks just as confused as I do. “Excuse me?” He says to Marcel. “Yes, I believe the restaurant got a call from a Mr. Timberlake four weeks in advance to make reservations for two.” Wow. I grinned at Justin. He’d been planning this for some time. But he still gawks at the waiter puzzled.

           

 “Yeah, for me and my girlfriend, did you double book or something?” Now Marcel looks confused, the wrinkles in his forehead showing all too clearly. “No sir, however we didn’t know that your personal assistant would be joining you tonight.” He gestures to me and I focus my eyes on Justin. Okay now I’m lost.

 

“Justin I thought you said,” “Babe yeah, it’s just you and me, sir I’m afraid I’m not understanding.” “Well, sir it’s no problem at all. If you’d like we can move you to a booth to provide more space.”

Justin cocks his head to the side and I graze the back of his hand gently. I can tell he’s getting a little agitated.

           

“Okay,” He says, positioning his hands as he prepares to explain. “I’m Timberlake, I did make reservations for two,” He pauses to nod making sure Marcel is still with him. “Yes sir.” The waiter nods back. Even I find myself bobbling with understanding.

 

“Now, what is this about my personal assistant joining us?” The waiter throws me a look. “Sir, is this not your assistant?” My eyes grow with surprise as he gestures to me. “No-no-no-no, this is my girl.” Justin corrects eying the waiter strangely. Marcel stares at him with a stunned expression and then turns back to me. “Oh…” Is all he can mutter.

           

Suddenly the waiter eyes me oddly as if I’m diseased. “Excuse me!” Justin hisses. Marcel quickly turns a smile to him and nods. “Yes well, sorry about the misunderstanding, I’ll give you a few minutes to decide.” And as if someone has stuck fire to the man, I watch his balding head disappear quicker than lightening.

           

 “What was that?” I whisper across the table to Justin. He looks very irked right about now and he just shakes his head irritably. “Baby?” I say taking his hand and rubbing my thumb over it soothingly. “Let’s just order.” He snaps and I get the feeling our romantic evening may have just suffered a small dent.

           

 I go to crack open my menu and he quickly gives my hand a popping. “Ow! What was that for?” He motions for me to hand over the menu. “I don’t want you looking at the prices.” He demands. “Well, how am I supposed to order?” He takes my menu away and cracks it open himself. “What are you in the mood for?” I smack my lips animatedly as I think. “Seafood.” I grin.

 

His eyes roam over the menu quickly. “Got it.” He smirks flipping the menu closed. When Marcel comes striding back to the table Justin calls out something filleted for himself, “And the sautéed shrimp and mushrooms for the lady.” He grins. Marcel jots the request down quickly and turns his back to me as he goes strutting off again. 

           

 I gaze into my boyfriend’s eyes getting lost in the swirls of blue. “What is it?” He chuckles taking a sip of the champagne. “Nothing, it’s just, this is really nice honey. Thank you.”

 

“Rachel, baby let me tell you something.” He sets his glass down and picks up both my hands. “You don’t have to thank me for anything. I want to do it, you know I do, but” He looks off to the side and I can see the wheels in his head turning. “What?” I breathe. He hesitates for a moment collecting his thoughts.

 

“I know I leave you and Taylor at home way more than any man or father should,” “Justin stop it, we’ve already talked about this, it’s your job, I understand, and Taylor does too. He didn’t even cry the last time you left. And you know I just bought a new webcam for the computer,” “Yeah, but I mean,” He pinches his chin thoughtfully between his thumb and index finger.

 

“I wanna know that he likes the singing toothbrush over the Barney one. Hulk over Batman shirt.” I stifle a laugh and he raises a brow to me. “You’re laughing but I’m serious. I’m thinking about takin a break. I can’t keep doing this.” “Justin, that’s a little extreme don’t you think?” “Rach-” “No hear me out, if you really weren’t around enough do you think Taylor would even know what a hulk was?” His eyes flicker over to the side modestly.

           

“I don’t even know what the Hulk is! As far as I know he’s just a big green thing that runs around like a maniac smashing things.” A small snort grumbles in his throat and I feel a slight pang of embarrassment at my lack of knowledge about DC comic book characters, or was it Marvel? Anyway! “And I only know that much because he likes it, why? Because you were the one who taught him about super heroes. Not me.”

           

My favorite lopsided grin reappears and I know what that means. He only sideways grins on two occasions. That’s when he’s up to something, or when he’s just had a load taken off of his shoulders. “You feel me?” I jerk his hands playfully and it turns into a full fledge smile. “I love you.” He says leaning in to kiss me. I meet his lips mid table and I realize yet again just how much I love this man.

           

“Your food will be just a moment sir.” We break our lip lock to see Marcel peering down at us. His lip is slightly curled and he looks a little disgusted. “Thank you.” Justin says firmly, not bothering to serve up the polite smile this time. Marcel peers at me again and I feel very uncomfortable. His eyes prod up and down the side of my face dissecting it brutally. “Will there be anything else?” Justin inserts. Marcel quickly turns on his heel again and goes stomping back to the kitchen.

           

“I don’t think he’s a fan of public displays of affection.” “Yeah well his ass better get over it, he’s working in a fucking upscale restaurant on Valentine’s day. What the hell does he expect?” I look over Justin’s posture. He’s slouched grumpily with his back pressed lazily against the back of the chair. He’s biting his thumb irritably with his elbow propped on the table as he gazes off around the rest of the establishment with trouble on his brow.

           

“Babe, why are you letting him get to you?” He shakes his head. His lips murmur something much too low for me to make out.

           

 Finally our food arrives and I thank Marcel when he sloshes bowl of shrimp before me. He doesn’t even make eye contact and Justin narrows his eyes as the waiter sets his plate down in front of him. I tilt my head toward our server to hint hint and Justin spits out a thank you, but his rude tone was hardly worth the effort for courtesy sake.

           

 The food is delicious, although I know it all has to cost an arm and a leg, but Justin told me that if I asked one time tonight about how much any of it cost, he’d take me home and whoop my ass like my mama never could. So I’ll just keep my estimations to myself.

           

The portions are so small and tasty we nearly gobble them up in one bite. “Are you enjoying yourself?” He asks swirling the champagne around his glass rhythmically and I nod very content with my Valentine’s Day surprise. “Good.” He smiles and his eyes do that pretty twinkle thing they do when he’s genuinely happy.

           

 “Ah, I hope everything was to your liking sir?” Marcel grins with his hands clasped together. He always walks up to the table so smoothly that I barely ever notice when he stops to check on us. “Why don’t you ask the lady?” Justin gestures to me.

 

I have noticed something odd about our waiter tonight. It seems that if he isn’t gobbling up my face with his pupils in a very repulsed manner, he doesn’t seem to notice me at all. Every time he comes to the table the only communication made is between him and Justin. Once I tried to halt him for another fork, after I’d clumsily dropped mine on the floor, but he acted as if he didn’t even hear me. So I had to use the five second rule and wipe off my utensil with the napkin. Justin refused to let me eat with it though and offered up his own, such a sweetheart, but still, it’s sort of like I don’t exist.

           

Marcel with his grey eyes, develops a slight twitch in his cheek when Justin turns the conversation over to me. “Very well then.” He says in an uncomfortable voice. He turns to face me and I smile brightly. “Everything was absolutely wonderful.” I commend. He quickly snaps his neck back in Justin’s direction and I begin to feel uncomfortable again.

           

“Will you be having dessert?” “Babe?” Justin gestures back to me again. I could go for something sweet. I request another menu and once again Marcel disappears so fast I nearly see streaks of light flashing behind him. It’s like a ‘beam me up Scotty!’ type deal.

           

“Bitch.” Justin spits viciously and I turn to gaze at him, shocked. He looks pissed. “And what’s the matter with you?” “I don’t like him.” “Clearly.” I chuckle. Marcel seems to take longer returning to our table than he does leaving it. But I am glad to see him finally bounding toward us with a small book of menu desserts. “Thank you so much.” I say as he flops the book in my hand and marches off without saying a word.

           

 I clear my throat as I look over all the cake and pie and ice cream and whatever that is in French. “It all sounds so good, Justin what are you having?” He shakes his head at me. “I don’t want any.” He grunts. “Sure you do! Look they’ve got Double Decker cheesecake and hot fudge brownies.” I even point out the peach cobbler.

 

Lynn told me when Justin and I first met, that he was a grade ‘A’ sucker for some peach cobbler. And I believe her whole heartedly now. He makes me and her fix two a piece every big holiday. “C’mon, who says no to cobbler-” “Baby-” He says giving me a serious look. “I don’t want any.” I place my hands up to show him I’m backing off. “Okay, okay.” I mumble.

          

  Finally I decide on something with lots and lots of chocolate, and I mean smothered in fudge and drowning in mocha syrup. Boy that would hit the spot. Oh and don’t even think it, it’s not all for me, of course not. I’ve got self control. Really I do. I’m taking half of it home for Taylor…well, maybe some of it. A corner piece. It really is about time for him to start practicing healthy eating habits. It’s too late for me. I’m already a victim.

           

 It takes Marcel thirty minutes to return to our table and even so he seems a little reluctant to take my order. In fact, he’s all ready printed out the bill. “I hope you had a lovely dinner sir, please come back and join us.” He rolls his eyes at me hard and I guess I’ll be taking my dessert to go then?

 

“Hey! Marcel!” Justin barks as the waiter gets ready to do his disappearing act again. “Yes sir?” “Why you being cute?” The waiter glares at him confused. “What do you mean sir?” “You know what I mean.” Justin growls. “Was your dinner not to you liking?” “Oh dinner was fine, but your stank ass attitude-” “Justin!” I scold and he bites his tongue. His left eyebrow is cocked and I can tell there’s about to be a problem. “Babe, I’m kinda full now anyways.” “No!” He protests. “Take her order and it better be out in less than ten minutes.” He demands.

           

“I’m so sorry.” I apologize to Marcel for my boyfriend’s temper. The waiter glares at me not too thrilled and I meekly point out my chocolate fest on the menu. “Right away.”  With that Marcel stomps off again and I immediately throw Justin my evil eyes. “Don’t you even give me that look Rachel, he’s being an ass and you know it.” “I know, but losing your temper is only going to make it worse.” “No, you haven’t seen me lose my temper yet. Let his little preppy ass come twitching back to this table a minute pass 10:32,” He glances at his watch to be sure he’s clocking Marcel correctly. “When you see me break my foot off in his ass, that’s when I’ve lost my temper.”

           

 I glare at him as he bites his lip with frustration. Please let Marcel hurry. Thank goodness it’s only been five minutes when he comes bounding back to our table. He sets a chocolaty delight in front of me that looks far better than the picture on the menu. “Thanks!” I grin grabbing my fork. I’m fully ready to do some damage when I notice Marcel staring at me again.

 

I pause before attacking my dessert and I lift my green eyes to him questioningly. “Pardon me for staring; it’s just that you have exquisite eyes.” I grin embarrassed at his compliment. “Thank you.”

 

He crosses his arms in front of him tightly and stretches on his toes. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a colored with eyes like that before.” I choke on my first fork full of chocolate delight. “I’m sorry?” I ask. I’m not sure if I heard right, but something tells me I did by the wild look on Justin’s face. His eyes are large and they’re burning a hole in the side of Marcel’s head.

           

“I said I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone of your sort with eyes like that before.” I begin to feel slightly uncomfortable with the subject and wonder if I should shove another piece of dessert in my mouth to kill the talk. “Are you a mix?”  His lip sneers slightly at the question and I cough nervously. “Mix?” I question. “You mean am I-” “I mean are you two in one or what; just what exactly are you?” He inserts much too aggressively.

 

I watch his eyes narrow at me and I clear my throat again. “No, no sir I’m not biracial if that’s what you mean?” He makes a hideous face. “So you are Black then?” I glimpse at Justin who’s twirling his spoon around on its tip. I can see he’s trying hard to control himself. “Yes sir,” I say hesitantly. “I am.” I’m not sure if it’s really any of his business. “And the two of you are together?” He says sharply.

 

I peek at Justin out the corner of my eye, he looks like a volcano ready to erupt. Marcel glares at me with fiery eyes, I can see the anger lingering in them. I feel extremely out of place and my eyes shuffle nervously.

 

Slowly my hand falters across the table and Justin cuts his eyes to me. I wrap my fingers gently around his palm and I know he feels the tiny convulsions pulsating from me to him. My nerves are definitely on edge now and I weakly gaze up at our waiter.    

 

Marcel, with his cold eyes, throws Justin a wild look. “I see; that’s interesting.” “What is?” Justin snaps whipping his eyes to Marcel furiously. “Just that the two of you would be so close-” “And why wouldn’t we be?” The waiter jerks a shrug and I feel Justin’s palm grow hot in my hand.

 

Marcel cuts his eyes to me sharply and I feel them scanning over my cheek bones again. “She’s very pretty.” He spits the words out like venom. I gaze at him as he looks very disgusted by his own statement. “Too pretty for a Black girl.” He grunts with distaste.

 

I cringe as his mean eyes cut through me like swords. The fork in my hand goes clinking over my bowl splattering a huge blob of chocolate over the table. Another reason for Marcel to grimace at me and quickly I grab my napkin to clean it up. “What the fuck did you just say?” Justin hisses in a low voice. “Babe, please, just let it go, for me.” I plead.  “No, fuck that! What the FUCK did you just say?”

 

Marcel turns his slits over to him. “You heard me. I would think someone as world renown as you, Mr. Timberlake, would have no problem finding yourself a nice decent girl. But apparently not-” He looks me up and down as if I’m filthy and I work quickly to suppress my own anger. “I have a decent girl,” Justin counters quickly. “In fact I think she’s pretty got damn classy, don’t you.”

 

The sudden base in his voice attracts attention and I gaze around the restaurant at all the people. I hadn’t noticed before. I’d only saw people, just random people, when we first came in. I’d paid attention to the beautiful paintings on the wall and romantic dim lighting. I listened to the sweet music rippling through the air and smelled the pretty flower pieces nicely arranged throughout the restaurant.

 But I hadn’t noticed until now, that I was the only one dining tonight that looked like me. I was the only one with a soft creamy light caramel complexion. I glanced about as more and more faces turned to our table.

           

Everyone else, some pale, some tanned orange, some a natural ivory tone. But never the less I hadn’t noticed until this very moment that everyone around me was white. And they were all staring at me and Justin who was now rising to meet the waiter eye to eye.

 

“She’s a fucking Black!” “FUCK YOU!” Justin belts out loudly. More and more faces turn toward our table as a slew of curse words fly over my head.

 I may be Black, but my skin is fair enough for me to exude a visible blush and I can tell you that my face is as bright as a ruby right now. I sink into my seat humiliated as everyone in the restaurant watches Justin go off exchanging nasty words with Mr. Marcel.

 

“Look! I gave her a compliment didn’t I, I said she was pretty enough.” Marcel hisses. “Fuck your compliment!”

 

My eyes lock on the plate of dessert in front of me. A few bubbles gurgle through the runny syrup and I can see it melting before my eyes.

 

“Is there a problem Mr. Timberlake?” I cut my eyes to see a slim man in a tuxedo appear at our table. And there goes the manager. “Damn straight, this racist fucker over here is disrespecting my fiancée!”

 

I feel the whole room target their eyes to just me and I slide even deeper into my chair. “Racist!” Marcel protests. “I’ll have you know I’ve gone to great lengths to donate to her kind and their slums! Do you know how many ghettoes are ruining this country! And why? All because of people like her!”

 

Justin balls his fists and I wait for the impact. I’m expecting Mr. Marcel to go toppling to the ground at any minute now with Justin’s knuckle prints in his jaw. “What the fuck makes you think she has anything to do with a got damn slum!” Justin hollers, his voice booming through the room. “You’re such a worthless piece of shit you know that!”

 

“No one asked you and your little gold digging darky over there to come in here ruining our perfect atmosphere!” Justin balls his fists so tight the blood disappears from his knuckles and the manager steps in between the two. “Mr. Timberlake, I apologize whole heartedly to you and your guest.” I see the manager motioning to me and I don’t think I can take much more of the eyes that are drilling into me right now.

 

"Mr. Marcel! In my office right now!” “But sir it isn’t my fault!” “Now!” The man in the tuxedo goes storming off. My guess is he’s headed to his office where he can really lay into the waiter. Mr. Marcel glares at me and then at Justin. He looks as if he could spit on us both. “Next time you decide to traipse your little nigger out to dinner somewhere, why don’t you try the Burger King down the street or better yet, Africa!” He barks over me.

 

I cut my eyes to him, the hurt stinging my insides cruelly. I feel the hot tears welling up and they go flowing over the brims of my eyes. Through my blurred vision I see him reach out for my glass of Chardonnay, fully prepared to sling it on me.

 

A few drops sprinkle over my dress and a chorus of gasps sound through out the restaurant as Justin shoves the waiter so hard he tumbles over himself and falls back into a table hosting an elderly couple. The Chardonnay goes sifting through the air making a mess all over the floor.

 

The elderly couple swats him away with disgust and he apologizes quickly to them. Sloppily the waiter bumbles to his feet. Justin closes in pointing his index finger heatedly in his face. “If I ever see you come at her like that again make no mistake bitch I will fuckin murder your ass.” “Marcel!” The manager roars from a distance and the waiter throws Justin a hateful look before he goes scrambling back to his bosses office.

 

It feels like a million scrutinizing eyes have settled on me, burning holes through my flesh and I cringe with sheer humiliation.

 

Justin stands stiffly. His fingers massaging the flesh between his eyes. I glance around to every one else. Some look at me blankly. Some are giggling as they whisper to each other. Some are glaring at me with sympathetic eyes. I can feel the old couple from the other table peeping at me and I drop my gaze.

 

“Babe?” Justin sighs apologetically. I blink and more tears go streaming down my face. He turns to glare at me and I flicker my eyes up carefully to see the hurt reflecting on his face too. He looks me over, a strong intensity burning in his eyes.

 

 

Slowly, I grab my purse and slide out of the chair. An awkward silence floods my ears as everyone continues to stare at me. Desperately, I try to wipe away the wet patches of champagne that have soaked into my dress. Justin reaches for his napkin to help, but I wave it away. “Baby?” He says in a low pleading voice. “Please.” I glance around one last time at all the onlookers glaring at me and slowly I turn to head for the door.  

 


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