No One in New Orleans Will Die

In his newly renovated apartment, Lance knelt on the floor, unpacking
the last of the boxes. The easily maneuvered box was carefully labeled,
"Delicate," by his wife. He could still hear her crash and bump in the distance
as he vigorously attempted to settle in the apartment. He thought about his
wife's delicate features. Her caramel skin was silk in his palms whenever he
touched her. The auburn strands of her hair were purposely highlighted by
the sun's rays which barely compared to her smile. Her delicate nose was the
perfect measure between pointy and rounded. He loved to lose himself in
her gaze and felt absolute warmth when her dark eyes fixated on him.
Lance soon stopped wrapping the boxes and noticed a beautiful woman
staring at him in the doorway. She stood 5'7, shapely, worn tight fitting
blue denim jeans and a gray tee-shirt. She immediately pulled her hair back
into a ponytail and approached Lance. Her body swayed towards him and
he remained intrigued with each curvature.
"Babe, what are you doing?" He asked.
"Well, Babe," she begun, "I am getting ready to help you unpack our
boxes."
"I'm almos' finished." He stated as he threw the last empty box across
the room.
"Dang . . . I feel so bad about you doing all of this by yourself." She
said while giggling.
"Destiny, don't play wid me."
"I am not trying to, Booby. I am jus' saying that you shoulda called me
in or somethin'. I really coulda helped you with this."
Lance stared lovingly at his wife as he moved gracefully in front of her.
He stretched out his arms and soon placed them around her waist. He kissed
her on the forehead and quickly took one step back.
"I love you." He smiled.
10 J.S. Greene
"A I love you too," Destiny paused, "what made you say that?"
"I jus' know that I'm a lucky man."
"Ok then . . . I am a lucky woman." She replied.
The newlyweds continued to embrace each other in the living room of
their home. The softness of his wife's skin aroused Lance, prompting him to
caress her back. He gently dragged his finger up and down her spine as she
placed her head against his shoulders and slipped her narrow fingers into
the back pocket of his pants. She clutched his flesh through the fabric and
began pulsating her fingers, further enticing her husband.
He lifted her body over his shoulders and headed into the adjacent
bedroom. Inside were Audrey Hepburn paintings Destiny bought a few
days ago, and an enormous picture of the Superdome that nearly covered
one of the walls in their bedroom.
Only the bed was coordinated within the room with fabric prints of the
galaxy and the black and gold shear window treatments to match. Lance
dropped his bride in the middle of the bed on top of large goose down
pillows and Egyptian cotton sheets. He continued to remove her clothes as
she lay giggling amongst the stars. Soon, he began to undress in front of his
wife in which she lifted her upper body and rested her weight onto her arms.
She pleasantly watched her husband remove all linens and anticipated his
body becoming one with hers. She removed her ponytail holder and Lance
began to tousle her hair with his fingers. He lowered the tip of his tongue
and slid vertically on the side of her brown neck while squeezing her breasts
with his hands. She commenced to write her name in his upper back with
her finger nails. Without hesitation, Lance accepted the invite and found
himself lost in Destiny. The two made love without any interruptions except
the occasional phone call by a solicitor-they never noticed the figure in
the window, watching them and lusting.
The next morning, Lance awoke in Destiny's arms as the alarm clock
obnoxiously announced a new day. He stretched his arms as he sat up in
the bed. He leaned over and gazed at his wife's body. Her skin was exposed
to the first light as was his hands. He then began to message her thighs and
kissed them softly. Groggy, Destiny awoke. She turned to face Lance.
"Good mornin', Babe." She spoke softly.
"Morning my sunshine."
"Why are you sittin' up, staring?"
"I'm admiring my beautiful wife." Destiny sat up, covering her breasts
with her hand. "What time is it?" She asked.
No One in New Orleans Will Die 11
"It is about 6 o'clock. You ready?"
"Ready for what?" She asked confusingly.
"Our first day of work together." He responded excitingly.
"Can I stay in bed and be a house wife?"
"Yeah if you don't want to eat and have clothes."
"Other women do it." She smiled.
"And one day, you will too, but we both quit our jobs to come to New
Orleans. We both have to work to get by. I wish I made enough money,
but I . . ."
Destiny interrupted. "Whoa, I was just playing. Sup with all of this?"
Lance hesitated. He placed his arm around his wife and hung his head.
"I know I took you away from your job at the bank."
"And my beautiful office . . . I'm just playing baby."
"I know," he sighed. "But it is the truth. You were comfortable and
happy and now you here with me digging through the muck and grime of
these abandoned homes-it may even be dangerous here."
Destiny quickly grabbed Lance's chin and positioned his face in her
direction.
"You act as if I didn't make this choice. I knew what I was getting into
and yes, it is not what I'm used to-this isn't the New Orleans I remember,
but I am also not used to being married, and look, I am! Not everything is
going to be easy, but as long as we have each other, that is the most important
thing. Everything will work out and if not, I have a couple of thousands
stashed away for a rainy day, ok?"
"I don't want you dipping into your money."
"It's our money now."
"No. I should be providing you with everything that you need, want,
and desire. Trus' me, it will not be like this always."
"I know. I just said that, genius."
"Come here you shit!" Lance screeched as he pulled Destiny's head under
his arm and vigorously rubbed the crown of her head.
"You jerk! Stop it! Stop it!" She laughed and yelled. The two continued
to "play" wrestle for a few minutes. Lance spied the clock in their bedroom.
"Come on kid, we need to get dressed."
"Aight, dude. I jus' got to find my ponytail holder and I'll be ready to
go."
"Well, I'm going to shower." Lance yelled as he walked into the
bathroom.
"I'm going to make breakfast once I find my holder."
12 J.S. Greene
"Skip it baby, I am going to take you somewhere for breakfast this
morning."
"Really?" Destiny inquired excitingly.
"Yeah, there is a place near the apartment we can go to."
"Ok. Look, talk to me when you are out of the shower." She bellowed.
The next sound she heard was the running water from the shower.
"Got it!" Destiny exclaimed as she held her pony tail holder with
a sense of accomplishment. She then walked inside of the closet. She
stared at the business suits, slacks, and blouses she used to wear to go to
work. She opted for baggy blue jeans and an old college tee-shirt. She
grabbed the bra and panties she left on the floor next to the bed and slid
into her work gear. She placed her hair into a ponytail and walked into
the bathroom.
"Hey, you lettin' that cold air in!" He exclaimed.
"Shut up! I have to brush my teeth and besides, why are you even
showering when we have to get stinky at work."
"I rather get stinky at work than being stinky going to work . . . wait . . .
don't' tell me you are dressed." He pushed back the shower curtains, "Eew
you stink booty lil' girl, you did get dressed!"
"I don't stink! Trust, I would smell myself first."
"You need a shower. We did things!"
"Watcha you saying, you stink?"
"Hell no! Especially now."
"When we get home tonight, I'll shower."
"Damn, I never thought that lil' Miss Priss would go to work without
showering."
Lance proceeded to get ready for the day, towel drying his body while
Destiny fumbled around, watching her husband getting dressed. He decided
to put on a faded blue tee-shirt and oversized gray jogg