Bleu, Grass, Bourbon

by Olivia Gaines

  Several neighbors came out to look at the truck, assess him, and wonder what Isiah was doing. One lady, her curiosity getting the better of the nose attached to her face, decided to wander over to see if he was a contractor. After a laundry list of items that she needed or rather wanted to be done to her house, he listened patiently, the Devil on his shoulder whispering fun responses to the woman until he settled upon the right one.

  “No ma’am, not a contractor,” he said with a hangdog grin. “I’m her baby daddy.”

  The woman gasped. He jangled the keys, gave her a wink, and let himself into the home of one DeShondra Leman. It was worse than he imagined. It looked like a page torn out of Bougie Homes and Boring. Everything was beige. The walls, the carpet, and the couch were beige, and one poor plant sat in the corner, desperate for light, water, and some much-needed attention. He took care of it first, moving it closer to the window, opening the blinds and giving it a hearty helping of water.

  “There you go, my love,” he said to the plant, “Daddy’s home and going to make you feel all better.”

  His next stop was the kitchen. The fridge was loaded with takeout boxes, high fructose juices, and no fresh fruit, and the woman still had regular coffee in her pantry. She’s pregnant for Pete’s sake! Why is she drinking regular coffee? This had better be old. If it’s not, I’m keeping it for myself. He left the regular coffee for himself, emptied all the takeout containers into the trash, and then checked the freezer. It held a bottle of vodka, a few petrified ice cubes, and something he couldn’t discern from the sheer amount of freezer burn. That too, he chunked.

  “I need to go to the store,” he said, shaking his head at the lack of nutrition she was feeding his child. Curiosity propelled him to the garage where he found it to be clean as a whistle without a single speck of oil on the floor. He would have to pull his truck in at an angle for it to fit in the space, and he didn’t think it would be worth the effort.

  On his way out the door, he made a call to Pookie, give him the address, and asked him to meet him at the house at six pm. In the meantime, he needed to grocery shop, and find a farmer’s market and a diamond ring. Snapping his fingers, he went back into the house to her bedroom, which was also beige, to locate a ring for sizing. The jewelry box held loads of sparkling objects and he took his time to locate one he’d seen on her ring finger. “Bingo,” he said, putting the ring in his pocket. Going over the list once more in his head, he headed out to get all the items needed to make the evening special.

  THE GRILLED CHEESE had stayed down and the pudding as well, leaving DeShondra almost feeling like herself minus one major change: she was growing a small person. Her hand went to her belly, running across the fabric of her designer suit. Your Daddy came. He showed up and offered me that sideways proposal. He even bought a farm for us to live on and raise you. I’m sorry, Pumpkineer, but Mama can’t see herself living on a farm.

  Wayward thoughts distracted her from doing anything reasonable, plus it was Friday and she was ready to call it day. Due to her constant morning sickness that showed up at random times of the day, she’d scheduled other agents to take the weekend shifts in the office, rotating them out to give herself a break. The more pregnant she became, the less she was going to be able to do. Starting now by cutting her hours would give the staff a chance to go it alone without her when the time came. And it was coming, whether she wanted it or not.

  “Monica, I’m leaving for the day,” she said to the receptionist.

  “Very well, just make sure you call your mother before she decides to drop in on you this weekend,” Monica said with her bottom lip curled.

  “Good idea,” DeShondra said, waving farewell as she made her way to the shiny black Lexus.

  Monica issued the warning, thinking of the gigantic monster truck the Neary man had climbed out of and laughing at the sheer thought of her cousin’s reaction to the eyesore parked in her driveway. Better yet, she would pay good money to see the Dr. Leman’s and her Aunt Maya’s reaction to the bearded boyfriend who looked like he climbed down from one of the mountains to find himself a breeding woman. He seemed thoughtful, though, bringing lunch to DeShondra who had bad, if not weird, eating habits.

  “Maybe he is what she needs,” Monica said, signing off her computer and starting the shutdown protocols for the office.

  In the car, DeShondra put in the call she often dreaded having–the weekly conversation with her mother, a homemaker, who never worked outside of the house. Maya Leman didn’t understand DeShondra’s drive let alone her lack of desire to marry, settle down, and have a family. As many times as DeShondra tried to explain to her mother, that baking cookies, and sewing home crafts weren’t her thing, Maya didn’t hear her daughter’s words. It was not in her nature to have color coordinated anything other than shoes and purses to match her suits. DeShondra Leman didn’t care about pops of color or transitional patterns to break up a line in a room. Couch, chair, rug. Half dead plant. It was all good. The phone call, not so much.

  “Hey Mom,” she said into the line, “just touching base with my weekly Friday call.”

  “Oh Sweetie, I’m glad you phoned,” Maya Leman said. “What are your plans this weekend? I am trying a new recipe for spicy chicken and sausage over polenta that you must come and sample.”

  “I have a friend in town this weekend, Mom. I’m sorry. I can’t,” she said truthfully.

  “I hope it’s a man friend. You aren’t getting any younger, and those eggs in your ovaries are going to start to ferment, then before you know it, when you do give birth, it is going to be a replica of Cousin Bobby,” Maya said. “That man is as special as his hair is curly.”

  “Do you realize that every conversation you have with me you say the same thing, Mom?”

  “Well, repetition is the best teacher,” Maya said, smiling in the phone. “Cousin Bobby is proof of my lessons.”

  “Okay, fine,” she said as if she were acquiescing to her mother’s demand.

  “Fine what? You are getting married and having children?” Maya asked.

  “Yes, both real soon,” she said. “I started the children thing first and need to work out the details on the marriage. Headed home to do that now.”

  The phone line was quiet. DeShondra continued to drive until she had reached home and spotted the monster truck in her driveway. Initially, she thought maybe it was a mistake until the pink Cadillac pulled in behind her.

  “What in the monkey nuts?” DeShondra asked, looking at the large flamboyant black man getting out of the pink car. Her mother was still on the line and quiet.

  “Mom, if you are still conscious and can hear me, I will call you back,” she said into the speakerphone in the vehicle, ending the conversation and rolling down her window. She addressed the tall stranger coming up her walkway. “May I help you?”

  Pookie jumped at the sound of her voice, his eyes wide and rolling in his head as he peered into the car at the attractive black woman. He blinked several times as if he were seeing things. He drew back his head, making triple chins under his neck.

  “My word, aren’t you just adorable? And you are black!” he said, with a touch more flair.

  “My word, aren’t you just gay as hell and also black. Now that we’ve both stated the obvious, what are you doing at my home?” DeShondra asked him.

  “Oh, my bad. I’m Pookie Jenkins, the designer from the Bleu’s Crew and I will be working on the design of your new home. Isiah called me to meet you here, so I can get an idea of your style before setting to work on the farmhouse,” he said.

  “Isiah hired you as a designer...for him...,” she said, looking at the flamboyant man in disbelief.

  “Girl yes! I have been on his crew for six years, designing homes, staging and the like for him. The man has a really good eye, but I must confess, if I knew that bearded bronco was down with the swirl, I would have offered him some of my good-good. Not that he would have taken it − I don’t think he likes man pussy,” Pookie said.<
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  “Ewww! Yuck and shut up before I find something heavy to cluck you in the head with it,” DeShondra said, climbing out of the car. This would never do. The stupid truck and whatever in the hell Pookie Jenkins thought he was coming to do was not going to work.

  She stormed up to the front door, even angrier that she had to ring her own doorbell since Isiah had the keys. Before one foot got through the door, she heard the skidding of tires and looked up to see her mother’s blue Subaru barreling down the street. “God, I live too close to my parents,” she mumbled, entering the house.

  The scent of seared meat hit her nose first, making her mouth water to actually ingest something versus watering to make room for the contents of her stomach to backtrack their way up her esophagus. Pookie was walking through the living room with his nose turned up in the air, and her mother barely made it into the house before she stopped, staring at the monster truck and the pink Cadillac and Isiah, in a pair of shorts, a white wife beater with a hole over his left nipple, and a pair of camouflage Crocs. All of it made DeShondra want to collapse in the floor from sheer exhaustion.

  “Honey, that’s a lot of beige,” Pookie said, looking about the house.

  “Isiah, what in the entire hell?” DeShondra started to say as the front door flung open wide with Maya barreling through the entryway and stopping short. Her eyes went to Pookie in his lime green pants, matching lime green Pashmina, and orange crocodile boots.

  “Hey Baby, I made dinner,” Isiah said, showing off pasty white legs. “I see you met Pookie, the designer for the farmhouse. Who is this lovely lady?”

  “My mother,” DeShondra said, suddenly feeling tired as she flopped down on the couch.

  “Well, this is a pleasure,” Isiah said, throwing the dish towel over his shoulder to cover the peekaboo tee shirt and reaching to shake Maya’s hand. “Please forgive me, I just got to town today and haven’t had a chance to get with Shondra to set a time to come meet her folks formally. I made dinner. Would you care to join us?”

  “You...and my daughter...you made dinner...she said baby...you the baby’s father?” Maya said, looking at the bearded man who drove the monster truck and was dressed like a stereotype from a trailer park.

  “I know it’s a lot to process, but let me get the little lady settled, get some tea in her, and we can talk,” he said. “Hope that’s fine with you?”

  “Uhm. Okay,” Maya said, taking a seat on the beige couch. Isiah’s attention was on DeShondra as he removed her high heels and rubbed her swollen feet. Those, he knew, would need to soak a bit to bring down the edema.

  “Let me get you some tea to settle that stomach before dinner. Mrs. Leman, would you like a cup as well?” Isiah asked as if he lived in the home.

  “That would be lovely,” Maya said, admiring the delicate way he handled her daughter’s swollen feet.

  “Coming right up,” he told her, mentioning the kettle was already hot. His attention turned to the designer. “Pookie, you can go ahead and get started with her closet, factoring in her shoes, handbags, and the like. I want something for just those items in the second upstairs closet in the master bedroom. Take a good look at the colors of clothing in her wardrobe which will give you a better sense of her style because this house is bland as hell.”

  “On it, Boss,” Pookie said. “What about the kitchen, any special details there?”

  “She doesn’t cook, so design the kitchen for me,” he said.

  “Anything else?” Pookie asked.

  “I think the downstairs library will be perfect for her home office,” Isiah said. “She’s a bit of a minimalist, so keep in mind function over fashion.”

  “Got it,” Pookie replied as he removed his tablet from his beaded red leather bag and set to work.

  Maya watched her daughter’s face as the two men parted ways with the large black man headed to the bedroom and the bearded white one going to the kitchen. Isiah returned moments later with a small tray, a teapot, three cups with saucers, and tea cookies. It didn’t take much for Isiah to realize her mother must have given her the set because the lady’s eyes sparkled at seeing the tea service being put to use.

  “Let’s start over,” he said to Maya. “I am Isiah Neary.”

  “I’m Maya Leman and happy to meet you,” she said, looking at her daughter who had not moved. “DeShondra told me she is expecting and you two are getting married?”

  “Hopefully, once I speak with your husband and formally ask for her hand. The wedding will have to be soon though, considering her daily changing condition,” he said. “I have to head to Georgia on Monday for a few days, but should be back by Friday, so maybe next weekend?”

  “I will check with Xavier, that’s my husband, and his calendar, but Saturday may work out,” she said.

  “Mrs. Leman, I would appreciate it greatly if you kept the pregnancy part from your husband until Shondra is ready to tell him,” Isiah said. “I mean, I don’t want to meet the man with him knowing, well you know, and then asking to borrow his horse when he can see I have already climbed the fence and worked the animal up.”

  Maya placed her hands over her, lips giggling at the analogy. DeShondra didn’t find any humor in any of it. She was pissed. Her facial expression told him as much.

  “Baby, are you okay?” Isiah asked.

  “No! No! No, I am not. There is a monster truck in my driveway! A big black gay man in is my closet and my mother, who just broke the street racing record for driving six blocks, is sitting here discussing my future with a man I have yet consented to marry,” DeShondra said.

  “Oh, you haven’t consented because I haven’t asked yet,” Isiah said.

  “Either way, I am not moving to live on a farm,” she replied.

  “That’s because you haven’t seen the house yet,” he said, wiping the carefully crafted chin hair. Pookie appeared in the kitchen, sampled the selection for dinner, and spotted the dining room. His eyes grew wide as Isiah put his finger to his lips, which prompted Maya to bound to her feet and run into the dining room to see what the big guy was surprised to see. Her mouth was wide as she looked at what the man had done for her baby.

  “You!” she said to Pookie. “Are you all done with whatever it is you do?”

  “I am,” Pookie said, collecting his things.

  “Then let’s get out of here to give them some privacy,” Maya said. “Pleasure meeting you, Isiah. I will be in contact about next weekend. Enjoy your evening, Sweetie.” Placing a small kiss on her daughter’s head, she pushed Pookie out the door.

  “What did she see?” DeShondra asked, getting to her feet to go to the dining room. She gasped at the transformation of the formal dining room that she never used. Tears came to her eyes when she spotted the romantic setup of candles, sparkling cider, and four dozen of red roses in each corner of the room. “Isiah...this is...amazing.”

  “So are you, DeShondra Leman,” he said, pushing her to take a seat in the dining room chair. “This didn’t go the way I planned, but we are here. Together. I would like to make it a lifetime of together as we start our family. Take my hand, look me in the eyes, and tell me you have enough love in you to trust me to take care of you and our children.”

  “I trust you,” she said.

  “Yes, but do you have it in you to love me enough to make me even happier than I am at this moment and agree to be my wife? I am on one knee with my heart in my hand and I’m offering it to you. Will, you marry me, DeShondra Leman?”

  She searched his face. She had no idea what he looked like without the beard, his allergies, or what he did in his spare time. Thus far, they had had a great deal of sex, shared a few meals, and loads of laughs, and she hadn’t even had an official date with him. Well, outside of the first one set up by that matchmaking mail-order bride woman in Vegas. Yet, true to his word, he said he would be there for her and the child if one were conceived based on their inability to stop screwing each other on that same first date in Vegas. He had changed jobs, bought a
house close by, and cooked her dinner. The bearded butt buddy had morphed into something more. He was asking her for something more. This was the life raft. It was in range.

  I’m tired of drowning.

  “Yes,” she said softly while he dug around in the pocket of his shorts and extracted a black velvet box. He opened it to reveal a blue diamond ring, flanked by small white stones. DeShondra’s bottom lip quivered as he slipped the ring on her finger.

  “It took a minute to figure it out, but blue is your favorite color,” he said, kissing her hand. “A blue diamond seemed like the only way to go.”

  “Isiah,” she said, looking down at the ring. “I don’t know how this is going to work out, but if we are trying this for the sake of the child, I guess it’s a good thing. I’m all in.”

  “I’m not doing this for the sake of the child or your image. We are doing this for us, which is a good thing,” he said, with his head cocked.

  “You’re a good thing, too, plus you can cook,” she said, looking at the table setting. “I’m starving.”

  “Good enough. Let me get the two of you fed because we have a full day tomorrow,” he said to her. “And just so you know, there is nothing I won’t do for you and my child!”

  DeShondra sat quietly as he plated the steaks, beans, and rice for her to eat. He was leaving again for a few days, then he was going to meet her father. And her brother and his insanely lazy breeder of a wife. And her brother’s hellions. Her brother’s kids were the reason she never wanted to have any, but Isiah made her feel differently.

  I can do this. We are going to do this. For the first time in a long time, she felt hopeful about sharing a life with a man who wouldn’t suck the marrow out of her or the bones in her body or the dreams she had for her future. Her life was not just her job anymore. Maybe her mother had been on to something.