I Want Candy Read online

  Candy and her father stood close as the doors opened and exposed their visual splendor. The crowd stood up in the pews, and cameras immediately began to flash. Candy’s waist-length veil with Swarovski crystals was handmade and beyond impressive. Her gown flowed beautifully against her tawny skin, hugging closely around her hips, then swimming out like white ocean foam, tapering into a long train. Eric looked at her, his mouth dropping open. He felt his body temperature rising and his heart heaving, pounding so loudly within the confines of his chest he thought it may burst. He could only see her. Everyone else seemed to disappear. When the minister asked who gives her away, Candy’s father proudly answered and took his seat, leaving his daughter there to exchange her vows among family and friends. Candy stared at Eric, witnessing the glossing over of his sentimental eyes and the smile on his handsome face. When it was time to kiss, he squeezed her tightly as he closed his eyes and pushed his full, soft lips against hers for what seemed like an eternity. His eldest brother yelled out jokingly, “Get a room!” Everyone started laughing.

  “I now introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Eric Fields!” announced the minister, showing a bright smile. Family and friends clapped and whistled as bursts of shiny confetti, white and purple flower petals, and glitter filled the floral-scented air. Candy felt as if she were daydreaming. Eric had a soft glow, giving him angelic qualities as he stared at her in amazement. As they walked out of the church hand in hand, an ivory stretched limo with chilled Moet & Chandon Dom Perignon White Gold waited for them, framed between two champagne flutes engraved in gold with their names and the wedding date. Candy waved happily as she got into the limousine, Eric following close behind as he held her train. As soon as he closed the door behind them, he took his hand and gently cupped the back of her neck, bringing her towards him and passionately kissing her.

  After they both caught their breath, Eric traced her jawbone with his hand. “I didn’t think you could look more gorgeous, but I was wrong.” He gently dabbed lip gloss from his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “You don’t look so shabby yourself!” Candy laughed as she snuggled closer to him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Eric reached over and popped the cork on the bubbly. The bottle erupted like a frothy volcano. He took each glass and poured it to the rim.

  “Let me make a toast,” he stated as he cleared his throat. “To my beautiful bride, Candy Fields, may we have a love that endures the test of time. May you help me in my times of need, and I in yours.” He winked as their glasses clinked together.

  The white limousine pulled up to the elaborately decorated hall. Eric helped Candy out of the vehicle, then took her hand. Right before they entered, he kissed her cheek and said, “I bet I can Electric Slide better than you.”

  Candy laughed as the double doors slowly opened, revealing all of their friends and family members. “Pinch me, Jesus,” Candy whispered to herself as she was surrounded by loved ones, whisking her into the dining hall where the scents of decadent Southern delicacies awaited.

  * * *

  “How am I gonna be in Jamaica and not allowed to smoke one blunt?” Eric asked angrily as he firmly gripped his Red Stripe Jamaican lager and licked mango juice off the tip of his fingers.

  “Because it’s illegal!” Candy responded as her eyes shifted around nervously. “You better tell that hoodlum ‘no!’” She banged her hand on the table, causing her sparkling water to shake. “I can’t believe that this is even up for discussion. It’s our damn honeymoon!”

  “Exactly!” Eric responded as he placed his napkin back on his lap. “It’s our honeymoon, and you’re ruining everything. I know you don’t like weed, but that’s my only vice, and here I’m in ganja paradise, and you’re cock blockin’!’” He waved his hand in the air for a waiter to bring him another brew.

  “I’m cock blockin’, Eric, because I don’t want you arrested. These people think all Americans have money, and they’re just waitin’ for a tourist to slip up on some crap like that.”

  “No, they’re not. They need the tourism, Candy. I’ve been here before. I know how this works. Just chill.” Eric stood up and hot-tailed it across the outdoor restaurant lot until he reached the seashell-filled sand. Candy watched as he dug nonchalantly into his pocket, pulled out some bills, and brushed up against a tall, slender, dark-complected man with pocked skin. Eric quickly returned to their table, a sly grin over his face as he accepted the beer dropped off at their table. He started to cut into his fish, but was startled by the expression on Candy’s face.

  “Now, why are you lookin’ at me like that? I won’t do it around you,” he said as he looked back down at his plate. Candy slowly stood up, threw her napkin on the table, and headed back towards their hotel. She could feel her entire body heating up. She felt the beginnings of a migraine to boot. Ten minutes later, she arrived at the hotel, removed her key from her purse, and entered their plush room. She slid her sandals off, sand still fresh on her feet, and slumped down on the festive-colored bed. She removed the coral clip in her hair, allowing her soft, sea-blown hair to fall along her shoulders. She sighed heavily, realizing she had not eaten anything but her Caesar salad. After a quick trip down the hall to the vending machines, she returned with a diet Pepsi, a bag of stale chips, and a large iced, Honey Bun. Tucking herself securely under the blankets, she turned on the television and channel-surfed past programs advertising property and pay-per-view movies. Not more than an hour later, she found herself being shaken awake. Eric stood over her, his eyes slightly bloodshot. She could smell the strong marijuana odor flowing from his perspiring skin.

  “I’m sorry if I upset you, Baby,” he said in her ear as he snuggled close to her.

  “Eric, get away, please,” Candy said, her mouth muffled into the crisp, white pillow.

  “Come on, Baby, don’t be like that. I said I was sorry. I mean, we’re in Jamaica. I told you this would be the first and last time on our honeymoon. It relaxes me is all.”

  “What the hell did you have to be uptight about? You’re in paradise on your damn honeymoon,” Candy responded harshly. “It’s our honeymoon, and here you are, high.” Candy snatched the covers from his grip, rewrapping herself. Eric moved her hair away from her shoulder and gently kissed her neck. Candy squirmed away from his grip.

  “Oh, so it’s like that?” Eric shouted. “How long are you gonna keep this grudge? I overlooked a lot of annoyin’ shit you’ve done. You kept pushin’ me away while we dated, and most of the time I kept quiet about it. During our honeymoon, you’ve been on your phone way too damn much, even checkin’ in at the office. I didn’t complain, I kept quiet. You were too tired to fuck this morning. I let that shit go, but then when you wanted it this afternoon when I was asleep, I woke up anyway and gave you some. It’s always your way or no way, but this one thing you’re gonna blow way outta proportion? This is bullshit!” He picked up her shoe and threw it against the wall before walking out of the hotel room, slamming the door behind him.

  Candy shot up quickly, her heart racing. She had never seen Eric that angry. She knew he had been drinking a lot that evening, and chalked it up to the alcohol. She rubbed her shoulders as the coolness from the air conditioning coated her flesh. Her sundress, now wrinkled and bunched, flowed forward as she sat up and stared at her cuticles. She tried to fall asleep, to push the horrible ordeal out of her mind, but woke up frequently at the slightest noise. Hours passed before Eric returned. It was three in the morning. He staggered into the room holding a half-empty bottle of booze. Candy heard him enter the bathroom and turn on the shower. She shook her head and fought back tears of disappointment. She rubbed her anxious hands together.

  “I wanted to make up with him, but now I can’t because he’s loaded.” She rolled her eyes and bit her lip as slow tears dripped from her sorrowful eyes. She slowly rose from the bed and slid her sundress off, letting it puddle around her ankles. Standing naked, she made her way into the bathroom. Seemingly unaware of her presence, Eric continued to l
ather up in the shower without noticing the sink water turning on. Candy carefully removed her makeup, then proceeded to wash her body with Victoria’s Secret pina-colada body wash. She plaited her hair into two sections and pinned them back with alligator clips before slinking out of the steamy enclosure.

  Sliding on a black silk, hip-length nightgown, she glanced at herself before sitting on the bed and retrieving a magazine she had brought along. As she turned the pages, she heard the bathroom door open, allowing a cloud of mist to roll forward. It smelled of freshness and masculinity. Eric remained silent as he walked past the television, semi-wet and naked. His chiseled chest and abdomen shined as he applied a thin layer of lotion before sitting on the side of the bed with his back towards her. She heard as he set the alarm clock and pulled the sheets over his body, laying his head down on the soft pillow and closing his eyes. Light snoring soon followed.

  Candy put her magazine aside, then turned off the television and bedside lamp. She forced herself to drift asleep but craved, hoped, and prayed he would put his arms around her – just acknowledging her presence. He didn’t. Eric stayed miles away across the bed, not one toss or turn. The dark room allowed the sliver of moonlight to offer her a glimpse of his outline. It grabbed his shoulder blade, highlighting the muscles and bones underneath his taut skin.

  She reached towards him to touch his thick, dark, illustrious curls, but pulled back and returned to her position.

  * * *

  When Candy awoke in the morning, she saw the covers were disheveled and her husband missing. Panic-struck her, she sprung to her feet, desperately rushing over to his side of the bed to ensure his luggage still remained. She sighed in relief as she saw his bag neatly packed, with only a T-shirt and pair of cargo shorts missing. She closed her eyes and meditated. Just then she heard the door click and swing open. Freshly brewed coffee immediately permeated the thick, island air. She turned in Eric’s direction and watched him set down two coffees, cream, and sugar.

  “Oh, you’re up,” he said cheerfully as he stirred one of the cups. Candy looked him over, down to his suntanned feet in their navy blue flip-flops.

  “Yes, I’m awake,” Candy yawned, stretching her arms. The feelings of anger resurfaced as she again became aware of the previous night’s events.

  “Good. I wanna tell you I’m sorry for last night, for messin’ up our dinner. I shouldn’t have done that. It was poor judgment and not fair to you,” he said matter-of-factly, avoiding direct eye contact. “It won’t happen again,” he assured. He took a sip from the cup and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

  Candy looked down at the bed and contemplated. She didn’t know what to make of his behavior. She walked sluggishly over to her cup of coffee and added a bit of cream and a packet of sugar. She slumped down onto the bed, looking off in a daze as the sun crept in through the partially-drawn curtains.

  Eric emerged with a white towel wrapped around his tapered waist. “I was gonna go swimmin’. You wanna join me?” he asked, his eyes a distant memory of the glossy pinkness they were the evening before.

  “Yeah, that sounds like fun,” Candy said softly. Eric leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for her to disrobe and put her bathing suit on. She was still shy being around him totally nude. The light continued to pierce the room, drawing attention to her taut nipples, curvy hips, and supple thighs. Eric licked his lips as he watched her quickly bend over to slide on her bikini bottom. Before she could stand up she felt his strong, warm arms around her waist. She stood straight, not daring to face him. Candy trembled as the moisture from his parted lips left a trace on her earlobe. Standing there, silent, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply as she fell into a trance. He slowly circled her breasts with the palms of his hands. He removed the bikini top, letting it fall to the floor as he guided her slowly down onto the disheveled bed. She gripped the sheets as she felt him abruptly tug at her bikini bottom, pushing it aside with one hand while guiding himself inside her with the other. He lie close to her face, hints of caramel and coffee lingering on his breath. She released the bedding and wrapped her arms around his back tightly. She rocked gently to his motion, meeting and greeting him with each thrust, never wanting to let go. They moaned quietly in unison, making music to the sound of the morning waves crashing. Eric had cracked a window while Candy slept. The scent of the beach always had a calming effect on him and sent his libido into overdrive. He balled up a fist-full of sheet in his left hand and rose slightly, his eyes clamped closed as he climaxed. After a few moments of silence, he slowly stood up, helping her rise from the bed.

  She looked at her new husband dreamily, but desperately wanted inside of his innermost thoughts. She heard him disappear to the bathroom once more as she put her bathing suit top back on. He came out, this time with a tube of sunblock and another towel.

  “You ready, Baby?” he said deeply.

  “Yes. Do you think we should bring a little money for drinks?” Candy asked as she canvassed the room for the large, wicker purse she had bought specifically for her honeymoon.

  “I have some cash on me. Don’t worry about it,” he said as he slid his sand-covered flip-flops back on. Candy nodded as Eric took her hand and led her out of the room back into the sweet, seductive island paradise.

  HONEYMOON GUMBO

  Cooked white rice – your sand

  1 yellow bell pepper – your sun

  1 red bell pepper – your heart

  Add shrimp – her “pink” love

  Add sausage – his “elongated” love (don’t chop, this isn’t a Bobbitt recipe)

  Cook in large pot with boiling chicken broth, slowly…so slowly that you may not even notice the hot water you’re in.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 8

  “This is really strange,” Candy said as she watched Eric finish putting his dress pants away in the large master closet of her bedroom. “I’ve been so accustomed to livin’ alone and not sharin’ my space, that to see men’s clothin’ in here is messin’ with my mind.” She laughed as Eric unpacked the final boxes from his home.

  “I always kept a couple shirts over here, though, to break you in,” he teased. Candy smirked and rolled her eyes as she watched his meticulous ritual of folding his socks just so.

  “Can you believe it has been a month? It seems like we’ve been married for years. I don’t mean that in a bad way!” Eric added quickly.

  “To me, time’s going so slow. It seems like only a day or two.” Candy turned around and slid back under the covers as she waited for Eric to join her for freshly popped popcorn and a new DVD. He stood with his back straight, looking over a pair of burgundy boxers he had just purchased before folding them in half and placing them in his underwear drawer. In the darkness of their now shared bedroom, he made his way to the bed. He slid under the sheets and reached for his ice-cold bottled water while simultaneously dipping his free hand into the bright yellow bowl filled to the brim with buttery popcorn.

  “Candy Cane, this is a chick flick,” he mumbled while chewing.

  “Yes it is. It was my turn to choose. You got to pick last time, remember?” Candy said as she jabbed him playfully under the sheets with her foot. “You just may like it.”

  “I doubt it. What is this shit, ‘The Joy Luck Club?’” Eric asked as he reached for more popcorn. Candy ignored him and took another sip of her diet green tea. As the beginning credits rolled, the phone rang. Eric quickly picked up the receiver.

  “Saved by the bell!” he laughed before saying, “Hello? Hey. What? She did what?” Eric sat up. Candy immediately paused the movie and looked at her husband with concern as she touched his wrist.

  “Man, that isn’t true! I know you know, but what’s everyone else gonna think?” Eric leaped out of bed angrily and stormed out with the phone in his hand. Candy immediately followed, listening as Eric raced down the winding staircase and paced back and forth angrily.

  “When did you find out?�
� Eric asked eagerly. “No, she hasn’t contacted me because it’s all a lie. I can’t believe she’d stoop this low. I haven’t…” Eric suddenly stopped talking and looked up at Candy who was coming slowly down the stairs. Once she reached the bottom, their eyes met in the dimness of the living room. He was telling her something, something he didn’t have the courage to utter. Candy gripped the top of her nightgown, reading his eyes. She felt the sudden urge to cry, but wasn’t certain why.

  “OK, Man, thanks for letting me know.” Eric slowly hung up and stood in the hallway, looking at Candy who was now standing ten feet away. Her long, pink nightgown swayed slightly as she shifted her weight nervously from foot to foot.

  “What’s goin’ on?” Candy finally asked. Eric took a cavernous breath and turned away quickly before facing her again.

  “I wanna first tell you what I’m about to tell you isn’t true. Please, sit down.” Eric pointed to Candy’s comfortable couch that had been the center of girlfriend pow-wows, family get-togethers, and her sleeping body surrounded by assorted take-out foods and neatly folded empty Ho-Ho wrappers. This couch had welcomed Eric back into her life, gave her a platform to self-soothe, and had heard conversations that would make a Playboy bunny blush. Candy slowly sat down, crossing her ankles and folding her hands in her lap. Eric sat close beside her, lowering his head and holding his forehead in his hands.

  “Remember when you were at my mother’s house and Sanye approached you?” Eric asked, his voice cracking. Candy hesitated to respond. She now wished she had a magic wand to wish this entire conversation away before it even took place. “Yes,” she answered stiffly.

  “Well, she told my sister, and it got back to my brother, that she’s pregnant…and that I’m the father. Candy, I swear, I haven’t been with her like that in forever. I can’t believe she’s doin’ this to me. She took our marriage really hard and tried to call me, but I never called her back. She’s lyin’, Baby. My brother said she’s gonna file child support papers and that I’ll need to take a DNA test from the county when the baby’s born.”