Babineaux Bléu

4

Black Sugar

Lyle decided the following day to take a stroll around the neighborhood. Though the seasons were changing, the Louisiana weather was mild for the November month. He knew where his feet would lead him eventually, but he took his time walking to Siani's house.

Their conversation yesterday played on his mind like a broken record. He was still trying to come to grips with the reality of his past and how it affected his present and future.

He stayed up most of the night thinking about it and even looked through their yearbook. He wasn't surprised when he hadn't seen her in it.

Siani was only one of few people that Lyle had come across during his days of rebellion, but she received the most flak from him. And no matter how much she tried to downplay the situation it didn't take away from the significance of it.

His conscience still ate at him, filled with an undeniable guilt.

While sauntering along the stone pathway of Siani's home, a petite, brown complected woman who appeared to be in her early forties with a fresh Caesar haircut, garbed in pale scrubs, opened the door. She saw Lyle walking towards her and greeted him with a pleasant smile.

"Good morning."

"Hi, good morning. Is Siani in?"

"Who's asking?"

"Excuse my manners, I'm Lyle. A friend." He smiled warmly.

"Okay, Lyle." She said, and then glanced over her shoulder, contemplating. "You can let yourself in. I'm sure Siani won't mind if she's expecting you."

"Okay, thank you, Miss...?" He trailed off, waiting for her name.

"Yolanda."

"Yolanda," He parroted with a smile.

"No problem," She said and left to her car.

Lyle waited until Yolanda pulled off before he walked up to the front door and let himself in. He was welcomed by the scent of lilac and vanilla upon entering, engulfed by its congenial atmosphere.

The style of the house was varied with an old-fashioned design: rustic wood accents and flooring throughout with modern finishes, decorated with seasonal colors and over-sized furniture that looked like it would swallow you up if you sat on them.

Quietly, he walked up a case of stairs and down a hall. He knocked on the first door and softly called for Siani, but no one answered.

Against his better judgment, he twisted the knob and opened the door. When he peeked his head in, no one was inside, but he knew it was her room. It wasn't filled with pink girly things. It was her scent. That fresh sweet melon scent that clouded his judgment.

With a soft click, he closed the door shut and passed another before noticing an ajar door at the end of the hall and moved towards it. He didn't knock. Just pushed it open far enough so that his head could fit through the inviting gap.

The sight before him instantly made his mouth go dry and blood rush to his core. Siani's bare back was to him. Her legs were crossed, sitting on a cushion, clad in a pair of peach colored boy shorts that cupped her plump bottom and nothing else, and her wild curly hair was kempt in two knots on top of her head.

She was stroking a paint brush strategically along the canvas bolstered on an easel in front of her.

A beautiful piece of artwork she was creating, but Lyle couldn't keep his eyes off her: the most beautiful piece of artwork he'd ever seen. A masterpiece.