Rhythms of Love: You Sang to Me / Beats of My Heart. Beverly Jenkins
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flowed freely enough for her to be comfortable in. On her feet were her black, high-heeled boots, and around her neck, her mother’s pearls. It was the dress she also wore to funerals, graduations and sometimes to church. Tonight it was concert attire.
Most of the kids were already in their seats. The others had ten more minutes to show up and she prayed no one would be late.
When Jamal arrived, there were only a few open seats left in the dimly lit gymnasium. He had no idea how many students attended the school but it appeared that families and friends had turned out in full force. He spotted Trina waving at him from across the room. He’d called her earlier to let her know he’d be attending, and she’d promised to save him a seat.
As he made his way, he could feel the eyes. His expensive clothing and bearing pegged him as an outsider, but he shrugged it off and nodded polite greetings to some of the older ladies as he passed by. They smiled back and nudged each other, whispering and giggling.
He took the open seat next to Trina. She introduced him to the woman seated beside him. She was older and sported beautiful gray dreads. “Jamal Reynolds. Reggie’s grandmother, Crystal Vaughn.”
Jamal paused. Leave it to Trina to catch him off guard. “Hello. Nice to meet you.”
“Same here,” the woman politely responded.
Her grandmother. He remembered Regina referencing her while they were walking home last night. He wondered how much Regina had told her about him. Knowing her, probably nothing.
But the question was set aside as the children filed in and took their places on the risers. Some were dressed in suits and Sunday dresses while others wore jeans and T-shirts. Ringing applause greeted their arrival. When the smiling Regina entered next, the applause increased in both volume and enthusiasm. Jamal took it as a signal of how much she was appreciated. The sight of her with her hair down and makeup on, and all dressed up in the figure-skimming black dress with jewelry around her neck made him sit up straighter so he could get a better look. The first time he met her, she’d been wearing a shapeless gray housekeeping dress. Yesterday, jeans and a coat and hat that made her look like a brown-skinned Inuit. Tonight, she was hot. Her beauty was on full display and he couldn’t decide where to look first. The gleaming shoulder-length hair grabbed his attention as did the soft lines of her shoulders and arms. He found the sultry sweet curves of her breasts and hips captivating, but her mouth, highlighted with a muted toned lipstick, looked ripe enough to eat.
Her grandmother whispered, “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am,” he heard himself reply. Every fiber of his being was focused on Regina in a way he’d never focused on any woman before. Watching her gracefully take her seat on the piano bench, he realized he was rock hard. He shifted his folded coat over his lap to cover the evidence, but never took his eyes off the cause.
For the next hour, the audience in the gymnasium was treated to an outstanding performance. Some of the selections were slow and pure, like “Peace Be Still,” while a few songs by Kirk Franklin rocked the house. During the intermission, the school principal, a short brown woman named Dr. Baldwin, came out and made a poignant plea for financial support. She pointed out the lack of books, instruments and even working lightbulbs in the ceiling above their heads. She also spoke of all the academic awards the students had achieved in spite of being taught in a building that on some days seemed to be on the verge of crumbling. Her words were so moving and so passionate Jamal just wanted to know who to write a check out to. Music was his love and his life. Helping out a place that nurtured and celebrated that art was a no-brainer. After that he’d ask Dr. Baldwin how he might help in any other ways. He also planned to research Madame Sissieretta Jones, the woman for whom the school was named. He’d never heard of her, but she was a musical legend he needed to know.
He wanted to know Regina Vaughn, too; not intimately, although seeing her tonight made that statement a lie. For now, he chose to focus on knowing who she was inside. She was tough, intelligent and most of all intriguing, but what made her tick? Did she have a man? Children? Were her parents still living? There was so much he didn’t know. Watching her leading the choir in the last selection, he thanked the fates for bringing him to Detroit.
After the program ended Reggie toured the gym, praising her students and receiving praise in return from their families and friends. People were talking, taking pictures and setting up the table for the potluck. In the midst of the noisy madness, she took a moment to try to spot her grandmother in the crowded gym. She saw her over by the buffet table. Trina was with her and in between them stood Jamal Reynolds. As if cued, he looked up and into Reggie’s eyes. He held her there as if by magic and she swore she couldn’t have moved had she wanted to. Her grandmother called him a door, but Reggie had the overwhelming sense that if she turned the knob, there would be more inside than music. He exuded a maleness that was as charged as a downed power line and it filled her with the current. Just looking at him made her warm and want. Mentally shaking herself, she broke the contact. Praying he’d stay on his side of the gym, she turned her attention back to the students and parents.
He didn’t of course. In fact, when she looked up, he was walking toward her carrying two food-filled plates. Everybody in the place was watching. He, however, had eyes only for her, and the depth she read in them made her heart pound.
When he reached her side, she told him, “There are stalking laws in Michigan.”
He gave her a muted smile. “Really.” He handed her the plate.
She took it and the silverware. “Thought you were taking the red-eye.”
“Changed my mind.”
In his intense gaze, Reggie saw everything a woman could ever want to see in a man’s eyes, and the knowledge that he wasn’t hiding it scared her to death. She noticed her grandmother and Trina watching them, too. When her grandmother smiled approvingly and raised a forkful of greens in silent salute, Reggie playfully shook her head and refocused on Jamal. “How about we find a seat.”
“Lead the way.”
She chose two empty chairs near the risers.
Once they were settled, they started in on their plates. The food was good and Reggie was famished.
“Did you have to work today?”
“I did, and I’m looking at a six o’clock start in the morning.”
“Hardworking lady.”
“Tell me about it.”
“If I want to write a check to help out the school, who should I make it out to?”
“The school. Why are you writing a check?”
“This is a fundraiser right?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
And before she could ask, he said reassuringly, “And I’m not doing it just to impress you.”
“You knew I was going to ask that.”
“I did.”
“Smart and cute. Who’d’ve ever thought?”
He laughed. She did, too.
“I want to do it because music is my thing, and if I can help a school with kids that love it as much as I do, I’m all over it. I mentor a couple of schools in L.A.”
Reggie studied the serious set of his features and responded sincerely, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
With the current humming in them both, they went back to eating.
An hour later, the food was packed up, the gym cleaned and everyone said their goodbyes. Trina hurried off to meet Brandon, leaving Reggie outside with her grandmother and Jamal. It was 9:00 p.m. and just starting to snow.
Crystal asked, “Mr. Reynolds, would you like to stop by for coffee?”
“Thank you, but I know Regina has to work in