A delicious flavorful aroma wafted through his small kitchen as the turkey cooked in the oven. Stainless steel pots simmered on every burner; Malan bustled back and forth to each one as he worked to prepare the mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy and green bean casserole for the Thanksgiving dinner he’d share with his fiancée, Lathal Harvey. He’d been busy preparing the various entrees since she’d arrived at his apartment early that morning.
There had always been something fun, magical and special about them spending their holidays together. He and Lathal had spent most of their holidays together during the past three years they’d been dating. Lately they hadn’t had a lot of time to be together, and this might be the last opportunity for the two college seniors to be alone together, especially with final exams and graduation a couple weeks away. Their nuptials were still six months away.
She’d looked forward to sharing this moment with him for several weeks. Remembering the fiasco she had with the turkey dinner their first Thanksgiving meal that had been a dinner at a Chinese buffet, the blonde journalist had asked him two weeks ago to take on the crux of the responsibility for preparing their holiday meal, claiming she didn’t really know how to cook that well. If she even tried helping him as he’d suggested, she feared she might ruin it and they’d end up having takeout for another Thanksgiving. He’d laughed thinking she was just exaggerating, but she insisted he handle most of the cooking leaving her to take care of the deserts. He’d agreed because it wasn’t a chore he really minded since he liked to cook. Her failure as a cook didn’t bother her because her prospective husband licked the pans of almost everything she baked.
There was something about food that brought and bonded people together, but with him, cooking wasn’t just sustenance to satisfy basic needs, it was in and of his heart. To him, his culinary endeavors were as much as an art as his career as an actor. Her man could have been as successful as a professional chef as he was on stage.
Bending over slightly, he opened the oven door and carefully pulled the turkey’s roasting pan from the oven. Lightly moistening her lips, she watched the fabric of his slacks tugged against his derriere; she imagined herself straddled his hips and her legs and hands gripped his posterior while they rocked to their own love ballad. Trembling with desire, she wanted to make him hers, but they’d both agreed to wait to become lovers until their wedding night; that promise was getting extremely difficult to keep for both of them.
As he spooned clear liquid over the bird, he glanced over his shoulder at Lathal who was intently watching him with her needs and wants apparent in her eyes. The hints of pleasure tugged across his lips at catching her dreaming about intimate escapades with him. Hell, he understood fantasies. He had them too. Right now he struggled to resist the urge to rip off her pretty orange and black striped dress off her and make love to her on the kitchen floor. After finishing the basting, he placed the bird back in the oven knowing she’d seen the same appreciative needful and wanting from him. “What?”
Using a whisk she stopped mixing ingredients in her mother’s famous pumpkin bar recipe in a steel bowl for a moment. Her warm smile broadened; her bluish green eyes twinkled as she meandered to her fiancé’s side. As he leaned into her, her lips brushed his in a tender kiss. “I was just thinking this is a trial run for what holidays will be like for us when we’re married.”
“Mmm,” he murmured appreciatively as he wrapped his arms around her waist. As their exchange quickly became passionate, his fingers brushed over hers curved over the top of the metal mixing bowl creeping slowly until he was able to dip his finger in the batter.
“Hey!” Her bluish-green eyes glowed with pleasure and a flicker of amusement. She’d counted at least six times he’d come over to stand beside her since she began working on their deserts of pumpkin bars and derby pies. “I love you, you crazy, silly, handsome man,” she teased softly, brushing her lips against his. “But any more taste tests and you’ll spoil your dinner.”
“So sue me,” he softly teased, savoring the taste of sweetness lingering on her soft petals. As he kissed her there wasn’t any of the warmth or passion that was usually in their exchanges and he sensed something was bothering her. “What’s wrong?” he whispered, caressing her arms.
Comforted by his gentle touch and the security she felt by being in his arms, she sighed, “I’m worried about my father. He called me this morning and said he’ll be back into the hospital for another angioplasty after the Thanksgiving holiday.”
He understood her concern. She’d been telling him about the heart problems her father had had in the past couple of years. During that time he’d had several trips to the doctor and hospital for stress tests, EKGs, cardiac caths and angioplasties. One of the few times he’d come to visit his daughter in Hallow Oaks that past fall, Stephen Harvey had been admitted to the hospital as a result of a suspected heart attack because he’d had chest pain and discomfort in the arms.
The Army’s doctors had discovered her father had high blood pressure, high cholesterol and clogged arteries just as he’d retired from the military. She was a senior in high school when the family learned he had heart disease. Her father had told her his problems were augmented by the fact he’d been born with a small heart, and while she was sure that had an impact she suspected there were other factors that contributed to his condition.
Stepping away from him for a minute, she poured the pumpkin bars batter into a greased metal pan. “I know we’d talked about just spending the holidays with your mom and brother and his family in LA but maybe we should spend that time with my family in Wisconsin.”
He supposed she was right. They could always visit his mother and his younger brother, Bryce, and wife and their young son in Los Angeles after their honeymoon since they were going to be there a couple months.
After she’d put the desert in the oven to bake, she turned her attention back to him. He looked very handsome dressed in his Sunday best, a gray sweater, navy slacks and brown loafers. His stance was casual; his arms were lightly crossed over his chest. “Uh, remember how I went to LA to audition for Destiny’s Dream for the weekend around Veterans Day?”
Destiny’s Dream was a romantic comedy starring and directed by Hollywood superstar Sarah Ledman. Like many of the female celebrity’s pictures, most media and entertainment sources hailed it as a big hit even though the movie wouldn’t start production till sometime in mid June. “Yeah,” her unique drawl dragged out the word. “I wish I’d been able to go with you then because I really missed you,” she wrapped her arms around his neck as he silently agreed having felt the same. Just as she was about to kiss him she noticed his brown eyes danced with excitement. A realization dawned. Sharing his excitement, her fists shook; her eyes sparkled; her body trembled. “Malan Edward Hamel,” his grin twitched with amusement at her teasing, affectionate use of his full name. “You tell me right now. You were cast in the picture?”
“Yep, as Mrs. Ledman’s co-star.” His tone wasn’t boastful just casual and pleased. The Hollywood rumors he’d heard seemed to suggest the legendary actress and director preferred not to work with unknown or debut film actors; that was exactly what he was yet she’d cast him in a lead role. “She called this morning to tell me. She’d said I’d been her obvious and only choice for the role and then she asked me when I was going to sign.”
Enthusiastically hugging him tight, she showered wet kisses all over his face. “Oh, Malan, that’s wonderful!” In addition to the Hollywood superstar, some of Hollywood’s biggest names and brightest stars had already signed to work the movie. “I hope you told her this weekend because you and I can catch the earliest available flight to LA tomorrow.” He’d gotten awfully quiet and she looked at him with concern. “Malan?”
He said quietly, “I don't think I’m signing, Lathal.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “What? Why not? Malan, are you crazy?! Don’t you want this?”
He sighed. “I do and I don’t.” Most people believed actors, writers or artists had to go to California or New York if they wanted to be successful. He didn’t necessarily agree, and he knew his future wife shared that philosophy. “He didn’t see the wisdom of subjecting themselves, as newlyweds, to the corrupt, bright lights, fast paced Hollywood environment. If he signed a contract with Destiny’s Dream, he’d have to live in Hollywood – a place where he’d have no privacy. He didn’t want to Lathal to a life like that. He didn’t want to live like that. His personal preference was to stay and make his career in Hallow Oaks. He’d had some lucrative acting offers of Hollywood and Broadway caliber starting production after the holidays in Hallow Oaks and prayed they’d sign him soon.
“But Malan,” she protested, grasping his hand and holding it against her heart. ”Being in a major movie starring alongside a Hollywood superstar is the best any actor can have because only the best get that, and you're the best.”
“I know,” he squeezed her hand, “I probably shouldn’t have told you about Destiny’s Dream.”
She gently chided him, “You'd keep something like this from me, Malan?”
“No, I was going to tell you,” he said with a frown, “but I was going to wait to tell you when I’d made a more definite decision on the matter.
“I see.” She said quietly standing very still.
Suppressing curses, he silently kicked himself for the hurt and anger he caused her that he was now seeing in her eyes. “Lathal, you know that rejection is a constant in my profession.” His body was tensed with frustration. “I’ve had so many job offers, but I don’t know about any of them. I can’t be for sure about them until they have me sign a contract.”
"Malan, I love you,” she said meaningfully caressing his face, “But I'm not going to let you give up on something important like this because you think it’ll be a detriment to us or our future marriage.”
Hurt and anger mingled with the passion in his eyes. Tenderly kissing her lips, he murmured, “Lathal, I love you and I’m looking forward to you being my wife.” Her eyes glowed with delighted pleasure at the future role she’d play in his life. “I want some privacy for us and in our marriage, but I have a feeling the media or Hollywood will be descending on us like pesky flies involving themselves in every aspect of our lives.”
“I know, Malan,” she said, feeling the same way he did. “But you can't not do this. That would be like me turning down a job at The Metro.”
The Metro, the premiere newspaper in America, was based in New York City. Excitement and pride danced in his brown eyes. “Do you?”
Her eyes twinkled like finely polished gems. “That doesn't matter.”
“Yes, it does.” He locked his eyes on hers.“Lathal Alais Harvey, you tell me right now.”
She sighed. She knew he wasn’t really angry with her for not telling him sooner about The Metro making her a job offer. This hadn’t been the moment she’d planned to tell him; they had similar job circumstances. Nothing was permanent until the newspaper told her she was hired.
“They made an offer at that journalism convention I attended here last weekend. It doesn’t make a difference because I’m going to tell them no.”
“Why?” Disbelief wracked his face. This was a big deal and she was turning it down. “Lathal, I can’t let you do that.”
Stepping away from him, she walked over to the table and sat down. “Oh, yes, you can because as far as I know my husband,” His eyes lit up with affection as he thought about the role he’d be playing in her life in the future. “Doesn’t have any offers to perform on Broadway. Do you?”
“Not at the moment but that’s not to say I couldn’t get some.”
She folded her hands on top of the orange tablecloth. “Would you be terribly disappointed, angry or think less of me if I asked you to stay here to start our careers and lives together?”
He was taken aback slightly. Had she been reading his mind? Joining her at the table, he laid his hands over hers. “I thought you believed living happily ever in one place where you had a house with a white picket fence, two-car garage and pets only happened in fairy tales.”
“I did until you.” Her fingers lightly traced his palm, sending pleasant tingling sensations through his body. “I’m tired of coming and going all the time like I did when my father was in the military. I want us to settle down somewhere. Maybe have some kids.” Under the table, she kicked off her dress shoes and her toes danced as a soft caress over his legs as they exchanged smiles. “I really like it here, and I was reunited with you here. I already have guaranteed jobs here,” She leaned forward and softly kissed him. “Tell me we can stay here.”
“I think that can be arranged,” he smiled. “How about a compromise? We come back here after I’m finished starring in Destiny’s Dream.”
“Deal,” she murmured, snuggling close to him. “The Record,” she knew he was familiar with the major LA newspaper, which also happened to be the top paper in the nation. “Was at the same journalism conference I attended last weekend and the editor guaranteed me a job. I’ll tell him yes.”
“Good,” he murmured as they tightly embraced and engaged in heated, passionate exchanges.
**
Later that evening. Her hands, submerged in hot, sudsy water, washed silverware, dishes, pots and pans from their Thanksgiving meal. Usually this mundane chore was one she despised, but that afternoon was different. Her fiancé had spent much of the morning and a few hours in the early afternoon cooking their fall holiday feast, and she felt it was only right and fair to clean their dishes.
Her mind drifted to the absent handsome actor she was marrying in the spring who sat in the den of his efficiency apartment. Smiling softly, she imagined Malan reclined on the couch, reading scripts and drinking cappuccino but he was probably busy studying for exams next week. After dinner, he’d changed into more casual attire. Now he was wearing old sneakers, a grey pair of sweatpants stamped with the university’s acronym and a hooded black sweat top with the words “North Central University theater department” trimmed in the university’s colors, crimson, gold and blue.
The murmur of conversation she heard came from the popular science fiction saga movie marathon on TV, but she knew his attention wasn’t on that. It was completely focused on his studies; when he wasn’t studying he was completely focused on pursuing his profession. She wished for once that they both could just relax and enjoy some free time; neither of them had much of that. He was in demand as a popular and top-notch performer on stage and screen; she as a journalist and writer. While they had their own beloved hobbies, they usually spent their down time together engaged in activities they both liked and enjoyed.
Finally finishing her task, Lathal dried her hands on a small wool towel that she hung on the refrigerator door. Quietly walking to the edge of the wall that separated the den from the kitchen, the young journalist watched her beloved who was unaware of her. A pink crescent was displayed on her lips because her future spouse was just as she imagined. His cell phone lay on the arm of the charcoal sofa he leaned relaxed against reading his black hard-covered copy of The Innocence, the first show he’d performed about a decade ago.
The tall blonde made her way across the carpeted floor and took her place beside her love. Lathal looked at her favorite popular science fiction movie that was muted on the screen and instantly knew the words. Stretching, the brown-haired thespian stuck a university library bookmark in his stopping spot and laid the play aside next on his lap. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“You didn’t disturb me.” His chocolate colored eyes drifted from his future wife’s hazel eyes, to her face to her lips. “I’m glad you’re finished doing dishes because I was beginning to miss you.”
“Oh?”
In answer, his lips caressed hers like a soft spring breeze. “You didn’t have to do the dishes, but I appreciate it.”
“My pleasure. It was the least I could do considering you did most of the cooking,” She savored the taste of him that lingered on her lips. His eyes darkened like marble indicating the effect her touch had on him. His smile spread across his lips. His woman knew him well, and that bond would only deepen when they finally knew each other in a biblical sense.
Happily snuggling against him, her finger repeatedly tapped the top of the familiar play. “Shouldn’t you be studying?”
“Mmm,” he groaned letting his tongue trace her sweet petals prompting her to bestow a soft, gentle kiss. “I am studying.”
Their kisses were hot and urgent; their arms wrapped around the other; hands explored each other’s body increased their needs and wants. The passionate kisses, groans and moans of each other’s names and declaration of love indicated the desire that they both were having difficulty suppressing and controlling. “Yeah, biology; chemistry maybe.” She bantered back as his mouth devoured hers.
“Lathal,” his voice was husky moan; his lips quivering against hers.
“Malan,” her voice was sultry, seductive; her lips feeding on his.
“I love you,” they declared simultaneously, their repeated passionate kisses quickly turned into an intense make out session on the couch which was what usually happened in the last three years they’d been dating.
From its spot on the arm of the sofa, his cell phone buzzed for attention. “Noo!” groaned not wanting to answer but in his profession, particularly with the number of job offers he had, he’d better answer. His phone hadn’t stopped its demanding ringing. “Why? It always seems I get these bothersome calls when I’m busy doing something I’d much rather do.” Still holding his future bride close, he shifted slightly as his finger accepted the call. To soothe himself, his fingers played with the long golden tendrils of her hair as he said evenly. “Malan Hamel.” Suddenly she felt his body tense and his tone turned angry and cool. “How in hell did you get this number?” Concern filled her; she put as much comfort and love in her touch as her fingers caressed his arm and face. “Who is it, Malan?” She whispered. “My father,” he quietly with a pained expression in his eyes. A finger tapped his lips as he listened to the man’s request. His hand fisted as he took her hand in his and he lightly kissed it. “I don’t really care what you want. I’m afraid I have other plans for the holidays.” He hung up abruptly.
Her head cocked to one side, and the surprise was evident in her eyes. Lathal didn’t remember much about Malan’s father. From what she recalled, the man had abandoned his wife and sons when her man had been a teen. “I thought your father was dead.”
His breathing sharp and heavy, he held her close to keep temper under control. “He is dead to me.”
The vehemence in his voice was unmistakable, and she understood his feelings. Robert “Bob” Hamel had been a good for nothing cheater who had never did much to financially or emotionally support his family. Lathal couldn’t really fault her beau for not forgiving or wanting to have anything to do with the man who biologically contributed to his life.
“What did he say?”
Old anger, resentments and hurt he believed he’d had dealt with in the past surged within him like a turbulent tempest. The Program and its 12 steps had taught him to get rid of resentments and that he wasn’t supposed to blame but forgive his father for past wrongs; while he knew it was “progress not perfection” living the way of life he had now still proved challenging and difficult.
What did Bob Hamel want from him? Love? How could he when his prodigal father hadn’t shown him any compassion? He said with disgusted displeasure. “He wants me to come to New Mexico to spend time with him and his wife for Christmas.”
She knew it wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but in her heart she felt making a quick visit to her beloved’s father for the holidays was the right thing to do. Bob Hamel was family after all. “Maybe we should. Just for a weekend.”
“No.” The firm finality of how he said it left no room for discussion. “Lathal, I don’t want him anywhere near us.” He looked at her determined. “Besides we already we’re spending the holidays with your family in Wisconsin.”
“Okay, Malan.” She didn’t want to argue and she knew not to push the issue so she just dropped it.
**
December 16, the day of North Central Texas University (NCTU)’s winter commencement, dawned with unusual weather for that area. Despite getting in bed at midnight, she’d gotten up early and brewed coffee for herself and her eldest son when he got up; she didn’t expect that’d be anytime soon. The darkness brought on by the winter storm made it seem like night but that factor didn’t change the fact that Malan usually didn’t get up early. Yesterday evening NCTU’s Liberal Arts Department had a commencement ceremony; her son, Malan; his fiancée, Lathal Harvey; and their two friends, Tanya Johnson and Billy Markham had been celebrating their graduations so he hadn’t gone to sleep until 2 that morning.
Her hand pulled back the curtain on the balcony window noting the snow flurries and the sheets of ice on the sliding glass door as well as the rolling pastures surrounding her son’s apartment complex. According to her cell phone temperatures were in the teens and as she touched the frozen chill on the glass the prediction was confirmed. Holding the steaming cup of java , Clarissa Hamel drifted to her bed on her son’s couch reflecting on a myriad of memories of various moments, the highs and lows, in Malan’s life flashed through her mind. Tears misted in her eyes. Her baby had grown up so quickly and now the man he’d become had reached another milestone in his life, earning his bachelor’s of arts in theater.
The droning beeping of his alarm sounded through his dark bedroom; his arm slowly slid over and turned it off. Rubbing his face, he reached for his cell phone and saw the time and groaned, “Uhh. It’s much too early,” His mother chuckled softly as he rolled over on his side and pulled the covers over his head. “I don’t want to get up, I'm tired and need more sleep.” He was a grown man; Clarissa wasn’t about to chide him about getting up and getting ready for his graduation, which would be another long day.
An upbeat tune buzzed from his phone. “Malan Hamel,” he mumbled running his fingers through the layers of his disheveled hair. A smile spread across his lips. “Good morning, Asshole.” Sipping her coffee, Clarissa chuckled again knowing he was talking to his childhood friend Billy Markham who had also earned a BA in theater. Clad in same casual outfit he’d worn Thanksgiving evening and heavy wool socks, he shuffled into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. “I know. We did it!” He remarked enthusiastically. “It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?” He nearly slurped the coffee he’d been sipping as he laughed. “I suppose for you it’s unbelievable.” He knew his buddy had slept with his girlfriend, Jena Landon making some lewd comment about he could have had the same if he and his fianceé hadn’t decided to wait till they were married. “Fuck you, Bastard!” He said vehemently and then laughed. “No, I’m sure I’ll hear from her soon. That’s the plan for now. I’ll call you if that changes. Later.”
“There’s a plan?” His mother’s chocolate eyes danced with amusement as she regarded her son over the rim of the cup from which she sipped inky brew.
“Yeah, unless Lathal’s parents change it again,” he sighed sitting down to drink his coffee with his mom on the couch. “I don’t think they were too happy with our behavior last night.”
She didn’t comment but she’d noticed the tension and friction between the young couple and Lathal’s mother at the ceremony last night. She and Lathal’s father, Stephen Harvey hadn’t been bothered by or minded the plethora of passionate exchanges Lathal and Malan had shared most of last night; her mother, Andria Harvey, who was much more conservative hadn’t approved or liked their romantic displays. But what did the woman expect? The two graduates deeply loved each other and were engaged to be married. She wasn’t going to advise her son that the young engaged couple might want to cool it on the displays of affectionate passion but she couldn’t because she found it heartwarming and enjoyable to see the bright, promising future ahead for her son and future daughter-in-law.
The 25-year-old actor had showered and dressed in a warm, long sleeved gray Dream Theater top, jeans and tennis shoes he returned to the living room where his mother, who had showered and dressed earlier, was reading the morning paper. “You might want to save this. Lathal has a really good editorial in addition to her articles.” Pulling the black graduation gown from the closet with his honors cords and his other graduation vestments from the closet, he crouched down and pulled his 35 mm Nikon camera from its bag and slung the strap over his shoulder; then he turned back toward his mom. Shaking her head, Clarissa chuckled at his choice of graduation attire. “Really? Seriously Malan? What would Lathal say?”
His brown eyes danced with amused pleasure. “She loves and accepts me the way I am.” Clarissa didn’t doubt or question that.
As far as everyone was concerned, the plan was still on to meet for a late lunch at El Sabroso Mexican restaurant close to the campus. The LA crew of Tanya, Billy and Malan as well as Clarissa and her youngest son, Bryce; his wife, Danielle and their 4-year-old son, Kenneth; Tanya’s husband, Bryant Johnson; and their 4-year-old daughter, Trinity arrived first. Billy and Malan had some crazy fist bump, hand slapping, thumbs up exchange before exchanging the appropriate kisses and hugs with everyone else. Just as the waiter had seated them at their reserved table, Lathal’s shapely long legs strode determinedly into the restaurant with her parents and two younger sisters, Yolanda and Bianca, close behind her. Illness and financial constraints prevented her other sister, Ginger de los Santos and her husband, Raphael, and their infant daughter, Vanessa, from attending the graduation.
Malan’s eyes brightened upon seeing his fianceé although he noticed the blonde journalist, dressed in the same sexy black dress she’d wore in their engagement pictures, looked angry and upset until she saw him. Her eyes glowed with pleasure as she immediately dashed to the handsome actor’s side and practically threw herself into his outstretched waiting arms. Unable to resist the desires they felt, their lips locked passionately. Her arms were interlocked around his neck as he spun her around as she giggled in delight their rain of kisses continuing with murmured names and “I love you.” Both Clarissa and Stephen Harvey and the couple’s friends smiled touched and awed by the exchanges; her younger sisters were glad, tickled by and pleased with what the future held for their sister and future husband.
But Andria Harvey didn’t like it. The conservative matron rolled her eyes in disgust and embarrassment. The behavior of her eldest daughter and her fiancé became totally inappropriate once the group had been seated at the table. Sitting in the same chair, the engaged couple straddled each other passionately kissing as they made out without caring who saw, much less what anyone thought about what they were doing. “Lathal,” rasped Andria harshly. “Stop that! You’re behaving like a cheap whore.”
She jerked away from him; hurt dominating her eyes. Malan saw it his body instantly tensing with anger and leaned forward to give her mother a piece of his mind; her hand covered his mouth to suppress his urges. “Andria,” a gentle note of warning in her husband’s voice. “Leave them alone. They’re engaged; they love each other, so they’re really not doing anything wrong.”
“But Stephen,” his wife protested insistently as the engaged couple picked at their lunches.
His cool blue eyes regarded the woman he’d been married to for 25 years. “I’m sure you haven’t forgotten what it was like to be in their shoes.” Andria flushed and held her tongue; the group finished eating.
After lunch, the graduates and their families went to the entrance of the campus with its large circular granite seal for pictures before that afternoon’s graduation. They donned their caps, gowns and other regalia. All four graduates had the blue sashes associated with the university’s liberal arts department but each had their respective degree on them. The two young men had theater on theirs; Lathal’s, journalism; and Tanya’s, dance. The young couple had numerous colored honors cords but Malan wore a medallion attached to a purple ribbon symbolizing he had the highest honors.
The young actor directed the action as camera raised to his eye he snapped various shots of the graduates and their families. Crooking her finger, Clarissa beckoned Lathal who instantly bounded over to her prospective mother-in-law. The two women exchanged warm hugs and kisses and then after a whispered request the blonde journalist took the camera from her future spouse. Snapping her fingers, she pointed to the spot she had stood and smiled at her man. “Get over there.” She took pictures of him by himself, with his mom, and then with his brother, wife and nephew. Their two friends also demanded pictures with their fellow graduates so Clarissa took over photography duties. Arms draped over each other shoulders, they took a couple serious shots before taking a couple amusing ones. Their longtime friends insisted the young couple take some pictures together. Hand in hand, they affectionately stared at each other as if they were at the altar about to say “I do.” That moment didn’t last long before they drifted together locking lips passionately, caressing each other’s arms while the camera whirled taking their pictures as their friends and most of their family cheered.
The graduates quickly dispersed to meet in the atrium of the university’s enormous event center to line up for commencement. NCTU president Jayne Lerm; her husband, Paul Lerm, theater professor and theater department dean; Carl Emerson, journalism professor and communications dean; and other deans had made special arrangements for certain graduates to be together during the ceremony out of love, affection and friendship with the beloved young adults.
The orchestral music swelled dramatically and President Lerm and the deans of the respective departments, garbed in their doctorate regalia, marched into the arena packed with families welcoming the graduation party with thundering with chants, applause and cheers as they made their way standing by their designated seats on stage. Soon the music faded into “Pomp and Circumstance” and the graduates slowly started processing inside the arena.
Since they were among students with H as a last name, Billy and Tanya smiled as they watched their happy friends passionately kiss while they waited their turns to join the procession. When it became their turn to enter the arena, Malan and Lathal were too lost in each other to notice. The camera focused on them in the back of the room, in a tender lip lock; their fellow graduates cheered for the campus’ “most romantic couple.” Their friends smiling as they gently nudged them; their fingers touched their swollen lips as they regretfully disengaged. Deafening cheers, applause greeted them as hand in hand they strolled into the arena followed by several shouts of “We love you, Malan and Lathal!” echoing throughout the arena. The couple smiled and waved in appreciation as they exchanged looks and once again wrapped in an embrace, they were passionately kissing in the middle of the aisle. The camera focused on the couple again and their picture were on the JumboTron for all gathered to see. His fingers brushed her diamond engagement ring glittering in the light during their heated, intense romantic exchange. The roar of approval from the graduates and much of the audience was deafening. President Lerm; theater professor and husband, Paul Lerm; and journalism professor Carl Emerson, all smiled, shook their heads, and chuckled delighted for the young couple they knew and loved so well.
After the graduates were all seated, the graduates started yelling at each other to see which department could be the loudest. The College of Liberal Arts had the most vocal graduates drowning out graduates in the other colleges; its departments still competed for dominance. Dancing and singing, Tanya, earning a dance degree, along with Lathal and fellow graduate and journalist Kurt Blackenridge were soon overpowered by the exuberant theater department comprised of Malan, Billy, Lena Pearson and others as the victors of the most enthusiastic graduate competition. Once the graduates settled down, the graduation began; the young couple didn’t pay much attention to the ceremony or speeches because they were too engrossed in each other. Lathal had vacated her seat next to Malan, more content to sit in his lap. Their friends, still kissing, heard husky groans and quiet moans from the couple as they tenderly said each other’s names quietly declaring their undying love for each other. It was a beautiful sight. The engaged couple was on the JumboTron again and beneath their picture read Malan and Lathal Hamel; graduates shouted that they weren’t married yet but showed they enjoyed and pleased with the couples affectionate displays with cheers and applause.
Finally it was time for the graduates to receive their diplomas. As the eighth row, where the four friends sat, rose, they huddled excitedly hugging each other excitedly almost knocking off each other’s regalia and mortarboards; they had to fix themselves as they followed the line making its way to the stage. Billy was first; followed by Tanya; Malan; and lastly Lathal. When President Lerm called the dark, curly haired thespian’s name, his hand shot up in the air and he did a funky flamboyant dance across the stage; at the other end, Paul was nearly dying with laughter as the teacher and student did the same elaborate exchange that he and his buddy had done at the restaurant earlier. During her turn, Tanya did a graceful elaborate shuffle and President Lerm congratulated the beaming African American who blew a kiss to her husband and daughter in the audience shouting. “I love you, Bryant and Trinity!” The African American businessman and videographer yelled back. “I love you, Baby!” and their toddler stretched out her arms toward the black graduate. “Mommy!” Their friends applauded. The camera focused on President Lerm as she looked to the young couple who was next and her eyes teared. “Malan Hamel, summa cum laude, and Lathal Harvey, magna cum laude,” she announced in a choked voice. “Wait a minute!” Her husband and Dean Emerson said simultaneously rushing forward. Both professors and deans leaned against the podium as her husband said, “I don’t think we should let the two of them graduate.” His friend and fellow professor nodded in agreement.
Tears filled her eyes. “Dear, Dean Emerson, I didn’t want them to grow up and leave us but here they are because they have and are.” She affectionately gazed at her husband of 20 years. “Both of them have exceeded all academic standards and requirements and deserve their respective degrees. Besides, Malan is making a major motion picture with Hollywood superstar Sarah Ledman and Lathal’s a top notch reporter at The Record and her debut novel is being released.”
“Well, at least call a preacher to marry them,” suggested Paul smiling broadly; the audience again roared its approval while the engaged couple kissed.
“All in good time, Dear. May 4th will be here before any of us know it.” Jayne turned her attention back to the couple. “Malan and Lathal.” Hand in hand, the two couple danced in a circle as Jayne cried handing them their diplomas. Paul hugged his beloved student first and then affectionately kissed Lathal’s cheek telling her he loved her like a daughter. Her beaming smile outshone any star. Her hand affectionately touched her cheek. “Oh, Paul, I love you too.” The British actor/director and professor did a happy dance on stage while his fellow professor and friend laughed. “Yes! I knew I’d get you to call me by my first name one day.” Dean Emerson beamed at his prized pupil. “I’m so proud of you, Lathal. Congratulations on your job at The Record and publication of your debut novel.” Lathal’s eyes misted as she affectionately hugged her professor and mentor. He turned to shake her future husband’s hand. “Malan, what can I say but ‘Wow!’ Your future – both of your futures are very bright.”
“Thanks!” He replied quietly and holding hands the two of them skipped together tackling each other again, the ring sparkling; as they both laughed and kissed and the graduates and audience alike gave them a standing ovation. “Thank you,” they replied together as held hands and took a bow before leaving the stage. As they walked down the stairs together, the graduation photographer was waiting for their tickets. The hired university photographer was supposed to take individual shots of them but they couldn’t and wouldn’t stop kissing or stay apart long enough to allow that, so he just took their pictures together.
To conclude the graduation, President Lerm asked all the graduates to stand, confirmed their respective degrees and told them to turn their tassels. Looking at each other with excitement, her teeth biting the top of her lip as he grinned, they turned their tassels simultaneously and then tossed their mortarboards in the air. Enfolding each other in an affectionate embrace, they kissed passionately as black caps rained about them. “I love you, Lathal” he murmured breathless as they parted after a long moment as the graduates began to leave the arena. “I love you, Malan,” she returned her teeth scraping the taste of the lingering sensations of his kiss on her mouth; they too turned to depart with the rest of the graduates.
Side by side, holding hands, he turned his head to her. “I suppose our parents are really looking forward to taking us to dinner to celebrate.”
Her eyes twinkled. Had he read her mind? “What else did you have in mind, Malan?”
He grinned broadly. “I was thinking you and I could go out to eat alone and then afterward go for a romantic strolling chat in Batley Park.”
Their families found them. Bryce and his wife had taken their 4-year-old son back to their hotel since the youngster had fallen asleep hours ago. Bianca and Yolanda were toying with their eldest sister’s cords and sashes and playfully nudged their future brother-in-law. The two teenagers had a lot of energy compared to how tired the Harveys and Clarissa Hamel looked.
“Mom, Dad,” Lathal pleaded with her parents. “Malan and I want to go out and celebrate tonight but you all look beat so why don’t you go back to the hotel and get some rest. We can celebrate with everyone by going out to brunch after church tomorrow. Please.”
“I don’t know. I think you should come with us,” Andria said pointedly as the couple exchange disappointed looks.
“Andria, what did I tell you earlier?” Stephen remarked miffed. He waved his hand at the young couple. “Go, with our blessings. You two have fun.” After affectionately hugging and kissing her father, the young woman did a happy dance.
Malan glanced at his mother for approval. Her consent was automatic. Clarissa kissed her son, whispering, “I know you both want to and are having a hard time not to but no sleepover at your apartment, Son, not yet, not till you two are married.”
“Mom!”
“Promise me, Malan, that you’ll just give her a good night kiss when you bring her home to the Johnsons whatever time that is.” He nodded his consent.
It was 2 the next morning when he finally dropped her off at their friend’s, the Johnson’s house where she had been renting a room for the last couple years. The light burned casting them in a soft glow as they stood their faces touching, their hands caressing, neither one wanting to see or let the other go. Their lips brushed gently before they engaged in a passionate lip lock for long moments as the deep love they obviously felt for each other flowed never ending before they fondly bid each other good night with promises of “see you tomorrow.” The hope and promise of their future of their relationship was strong, lasting and bright.