The Most Amazing Man Came Into My Life When I Needed Him

I was left orphan at 13, and went to live with my maternal grandmother. She was, although I didn't know then, a bitter old lesbian. My grandfather, her husband left her soon after they were married. Those years when I lived with my grandmother were the worst years of my life. At 18 I left, that day, went to stay with my best friend from school. I never spoke to my grandmother again. I only found out of her lesbian bitterness after she died. She left me her house, as her only heir.

I used the money from the house to go to college, I went to work for a Global CPA firm after graduation, became a CPA, moved on to a job in industry, bought a small townhouse, lived alone. I was accused of being a lesbian, for befriending a girl in my department.

Out of the blue, left field, a man stepped forward and quashed that line of accusation. He, a man of overwhelming influence, came to my side. I met him later, at a lunch. He was the most impressive man I had ever met. He drew me into conversation, I assured him I was not a lesbian. I was seeing a man, a black man.

In the car he turned to me, asked if I really meant for a black man to penetrate me, to leave his seed in me. I forbid it, he told me. Do not fail me, he said. A woman's virtue is her obedience, he told me. If I was lesbian? I asked him. I will take care of you, he answered. So I can be a lesbian? I asked him. If you must, he said. Nevertheless you will carry my children. I carried his children, cared for him and his children. Made a home for him and his children.

He never interfered with my relationship with my girlfriend. She was protected, she grew in her career. He oversaw her personally for a few years before putting her in a position where he needed her. If it happened that she joined us for dinner, or maybe went with me and the children on a long weekend, or he saw we needed a few minutes of privacy in the kitchen, he looked the other way.

He is retired, he has his following, important people looking for his opinion. I think about my grandmother, why was she so bitter? What she was didn't fall far from the tree. Maybe her husband didn't allow her, maybe she couldn't face him, maybe somewhere she disobeyed him. The person in her diary, her letters, kept her distance. He left her, never divorced her. When he died, she was his widow.

My husband, he is different, still the most impressive man I have ever met. He knows, knew that day in the car, there was never a man, except him.