“Headed back to work,” he said, touching Michelle’s tiny nose before slipping out the back door.
THE WORK PROGRESSED nicely and in no time at all, all the framing was up for the addition, the roof trestles cut and in place, and Thursday morning, Isiah was ready to roll out. Zeke wanted a word alone with him. He found his baby brother in the garage.
“Coming down and lending a hand means the world to me, Bleu,” Zeke said softly.
“Anything you need, I’m here for you,” he told his big brother.
“And what is it you need from me? How or what can I possibly do to repay you for this...all your help?” Zeke asked, feeling more emotional than he’d expected.
“Well, since you asked,” Isiah replied awkwardly. “I could use a best man for my wedding.”
Zeke couldn’t hide his surprise. “You want me? As your best man and not Gabe?” He paused, thinking about it. “Oh, of course! You are asking Gabe to perform the ceremony?”
“No, I’m not going to ask him to marry us. I am going to try to get DeShondra’s family pastor to do the honors, with you as my best man and Gabe a groomsman,” Isiah said. “Why would you think I wanted Gabe to marry us?”
“I don’t know, you two always seemed so much closer than me and you, I guess,” Zeke said. “You guys are the academics, much more in common.”
“On a broken hand, all fingers are equal,” Isiah said.
“I have no idea what the fuck that means,” Zeke said laughing.
“When it comes to you, let me know,” Isiah offered, showing off his handiwork on the toy box. “It’s sanded, it only requires a few layers of stain, then a clear coat. I added these latches to keep it from slapping down on her fingers. Whaddya think?”
“I love it, Bleu, thank you,” he said.
“It’s gonna look great in her new room,” he said. “Maybe I shoulda painted it pink or add some girly, frilly shit.”
“No, this is perfect,” Zeke said, reaching for a hug, but Isiah stepped back. “What’s wrong?”
“You wanting to hug me,” he said with his lip curled upward. “Kinda makes me uncomfortable. You’ve never been a hugger. What’s next, you want to hold my hand, pray with me, and then kiss me or some crap?”
Zeke laughed as he grabbed his younger brother by the shirt, pulling him into an embrace and planting a big wet one on his cheek. He held him close for a moment and Isiah didn’t pull away but hugged him back. A quietness came over the garage as they stood stepping away from the embrace. The silence was loud.
“Two inches higher on that gunshot and I would have been dead,” Isiah said.
“Had the gun not misfired, so would I,” Zeke replied.
“Life is fleeting. I need you to be my best man because I want you to stand beside me as a testament to second chances in life. Gabe can never understand what it is like, closing your eyes and hearing that gun click,” Isiah said. “For the rest of my life when I close my eyes, all I can see is him pulling the trigger.”
“That, I am familiar with,” Zeke mumbled, letting him go. “However, in less than six months, Isiah, you will have someone who depends on you. That child will need her father to be stronger than you have ever been. A fearless protector for it and its mother. Be afraid of battling your demons on your own time. Get help. Get counseling. But you have to be in the now.”
“The now hurts,” Isiah said.
“Yes, but the now is in your face, present and begging to be heard. Don’t silence it with bullshit or false hopes of being better one day,” said Zeke. “Be your best today and every day until you are well.”
“Okay, working on it,” Isiah mumbled. “I’m heading to Ohio next week. You two should come up. Things are about to get hot here really quick. This mountain is going to be crawling with law enforcement from every branch. You don’t need to be around when it does. Plus, the little lady is going to meet Mom and Dad.”
“That should be interesting,” he told his brother.
“Yeah, it’s going to be funny,” Isiah said, patting Zeke in the back. “Let me say my goodbyes to the ladies and then I’m out.”
“Drive safe and I love you,” Zeke said.
“Love you back, bro,” Isiah replied, heading for the cabin. Inside, Tameka prepared him a cup of coffee to go along with a few of her blueberry muffins that he planned to chuck out the window on the side of the road. He hoped they didn’t kill any wildlife or give them the blue shits. Those muffins, in his opinion, weren’t good for anything more than colon cleansing and he would be damned before he ate another.
“Hey, I made Michelle a toy box,” he said accepting the coffee. “It has safety hinges so her fingers won’t get smashed. One of you will need to stain and varnish the wood once all the glue dries.”
“Thank you for everything,” Tameka told him. “I can’t tell you how much it meant having you here.”
“No worries. Call if you need me,” he said.
“She’s lucky,” Tameka said. “DeShondra is a lucky woman to get you.”
“Just make sure you call and tell her that,” he said with a wink. Michelle, wide awake and reaching for him from her mother’s arm, made him step in closer to the baby. He had wood glue on his body and chips of wood, which hindered Isiah from taking her in his arms. Instead, he leaned his hair covered chin in closer for her to grab as he snagged a kiss from her cheek. Michelle giggled as he pried her fingers from his beard, again. Giving a mock salute to Tameka, he went to his truck, gave two toots of the horn, and descended the mountain. It was time to get home to his family.
Chapter 10 – Honey, I’m Home...
THE DRIVE TO KENTUCKY transpired smoothly with millions of ideas zooming through his head. The first was to call the little lady once he figured out what time she got up each morning. On the days she’d stayed with him for the weekend, she’d slept in, rising only after he brought her food. Isiah only spent two nights at her house, and again, she rose when he brought her food. Checking his watch, it was a little after nine in the morning and now was as good of a time as any to call.
“Morning beautiful,” he said softly, lowering the timbers in his voice.
“Hmm, please tell me you are on your way back to me,” she said softly.
“If I drove any faster, I would break some sort of record, or at least end up in a backwater jail for reckless driving,” Isiah said to her.
“I am going to hope you will at least be home by dinner,” DeShondra said, looking at the mound of papers on her desk.
“Can do,” he spoke softly as he hit his turn signal to stop for coffee and a bathroom break. A sudden urge for bar-b-que pork skins and an icy cold root beer struck him. “I’m going to need a set of keys to the house.”
“Got you covered,” she said. “I’m going to need a set to ours as well.”
“Sure thing,” he replied, “soon as I figure out what doors and locks to put on it.”
“I have a small warehouse of scrap doors, windows, fixtures, that kind of stuff,” she told him. “There are even a few antique pieces in my storage. You and Buster may want to check it out.”
“Sounds good,” he said to her, wanting the call to end so he could get to the house in London and on to her. “See you in a couple of hours.”
“Until then,” she said, hanging up the desk phone. Monica entered the doors with a large bouquet of colorful, fragrant flowers which DeShondra knew had come from Isiah. “This man and flowers.”
Taking the card from the arrangement, her wide smile faded into a turned down snarl when she saw the name on the sender. “That son of a bitch never gives up,” DeShondra said, passing the flowers back to her assistant.
“Who sent them?” Monica asked.
“John, that asshole. Even though I told him I was engaged, showed him my rounded belly, he is still sending flowers,” DeShondra said. “The nerve of that man. Take these and put them on your desk.”
“You have to wonder about his timing, DeShondra,” Monica said, holding the large vase. “Al
l of a sudden, he comes back into your life wanting to get back together.”
“It doesn’t matter, either way,” she softly said. “Even if I weren’t with Isiah, I would never go back to him. He nearly killed something inside of me and I nearly allowed it to happen. I gave him that power.”
“Girl, it is hard to imagine you giving a man any power over you,” Monica spoke honestly. They’d grown up as close as sisters. Her father, Javier Leman, Xavier Leman’s twin brother, raised the girls together. From the time they wore diapers, they were often found side by side. Monica invested in the first office DeShondra purchased to get the company off the ground. In return, DeShondra had promised her cousin she would always have a job. From her desk in the front of the building, the unassuming position Monica held nearly ran the company’s daily operations.
“It wasn’t obvious, Monica. The power shift happened subtly, so methodically, that I barely realized it,” DeShondra told her. “Until one day, I barely made an awards dinner honoring me, just trying to make it to the game where he was riding the bench. I felt so stupid.”
“You never told me any of this,” Monica said.
“I was ashamed that I allowed what I thought was love to control me,” she said.
“And beard boy, what’s your story with that guy?”
DeShondra asked her to come inside and close the door. The words she planned to speak, she didn’t want anyone else to hear, in case of a misunderstanding about the metaphors she was about to use. These words needed only to land on Monica’s ears.
“Monica, you know when you go shoe shopping and find that one pair of killer heels that make your legs look like they go on for days?” DeShondra asked. “The shoes are sexy and they make you feel girly, like a woman in charge.”
“Yeah, I have a pair of those I wear on date night,” Monica said with a smile.
“When you take them off, no matter how fantastic they look on your feet, you pay the price. Your toes hurt, your back aches, and the legs cramps seem to never stop,” she told her cousin.
“Is that what you are saying about you and beard boy?”
“Goodness no,” she said. “That was me and John. On the outside, it was such a good fit and we looked good together, but what I really wanted was to put on is a nice, open-toed wedge. I get the height, but not the pain. I look sexy and feel good, and it is a great fit.”
“That is an odd way to describe a relationship,” Monica said with a scowl on her face.
“No, for me and Isiah, it is the perfect description,” she said grinning. “It looks good, it feels good, and it fits without the pain.”
“Sounds like a pair of old comfortable slippers if you ask me,” Monica chided.
“Honestly, you would be lucky to have that man wrapped around your anything,” she said with a huge grin. “Monica, I feel...what’s the word...cared for, loved, even adored, like anything is possible with him. I can’t wait until he gets home tonight. I’m not sick, he doesn’t have to run off and we can actually spend some time talking, loving, and getting back to us.”
Monica stood, walking around the desk to touch DeShondra’s forehead. She used the back of her hands but resulted in going old school and using her lips on the forehead to check for fever.
“Stop it, Monica,” DeShondra said, laughing. “I’m not sick. This just feels good. He feels so good and for the first time ever in my adult life, I am looking forward to going home to my man.”
“Well, make my money so you can get home and play the little lady,” Monica teased. “Don’t forget, you need to get him to sign the prenup. You can play Suzy Homemaker all you want, but you have to protect this company.”
“Suzy Homemaker is not me. I ain’t cooking shit and I’m not washing his drawers or matching his socks,” she said grinning. “I will handle the prenup and I’ll give the housekeeper extra to do that for him.”
“As long as she ain’t trying to slide in the bed and do something else for him!”
“The woman is almost 70! Suggesting such a thing is just nasty,” DeShondra said with a grin.
“Speaking of nasty, you got an appointment to get them feet scraped today,” Monica added, tapping on her wrist.
“I am sick of you and Mae Laun talking about my feet. Get out of my office and out of my business and get to work,” DeShondra said with a chuckle. She had projects to tackle, properties to inspect next week, and homes to list. More importantly, she had to figure out which sexy lingerie to sport tonight for his arrival and a true welcome home.
THE DOORBELL RANG AT a little after six pm, and wearing high heel mules and a silk red robe over equally rambunctious red undies, she peered through the peephole, hoping it was her hairy chinned hunk, only to find her mother standing on the doorstep. The disappointment on her face was evident when she opened the door to find the black Betty Crocker with foil covered dishes. Exhaling loudly, she hid behind the door as Maya Leman waltzed in, heading for the kitchen.
“Good to see you as well, Mom,” DeShondra said, closing the door.
“Hey, Pumpkin. Is your man here yet?”
“No Mom, he will be here any moment,” DeShondra responded. “What is all this stuff?”
“My stuffed chicken with sautéed spinach, steamed candied carrots, warm yeast rolls, a salad, and a pint-sized lemon pound cake,” Maya said with pride. Pots and pans clattered in the kitchen as she arranged the food so it would appear that her daughter had cooked dinner.
“Mom, please, none of this is necessary,” she pleaded.
“Baby, I was just saving you our weekly phone call by coming in person,” Maya said, turning on the burners to warm the meal. “Besides, when a man comes home, either the pots or the puss needs to be hot, and you are no cook.”
“Hello, Mom, have you taken a look at what I’m wearing?”
Maya looked up to see her daughter dressed like a bad act from a porn movie. Frowning, her disappointment show. “You really need to learn to cook,” she said.
“Which leads and begs the line of inquiry as to why dinner was always hot and ready by six for Daddy,” DeShondra said, now frowning herself.
“Yes, the pots were always hot and so was I,” Maya said shimmying her shoulders.
“Oh Jesus, I just threw up a little in my mouth,” she replied.
“Stop being a prude, and get some plates to set the table,” she said. “And that outfit is horrendous. Go change into a simple dress, plain cotton undies, and a push-up bra. Trust me, it works a helluva lot better than that come-hither big boy get up you have on.”
“I don’t need sex advice, Mom,” she said, giving her mother’s words some thought.
“Take my advice, go change and trust me,” she said to her daughter, who reluctantly gave in, doing as her mother requested. In her closet, she thumbed through rows of designer suits, expensive dresses, and haute couture clothing until she came to her second closet and found a simple maxi dress. Changing quickly, she returned to the kitchen to find her mother waiting with a smile.
“Perfect,” she said embracing her daughter. “Enjoy your night.”
“Mom?” DeShondra said, trying to understand what just happened.
“Baby, you are always thinking of how to conquer, build, and expand. Men are not that complicated. They want to come home to a woman who is happy to see them, have a good meal, and get treated as if they matter,” Maya said. “He doesn’t need all that rigamarole, he just wants you.”
“I like the rigamarole,” she said, with her bottom lip poked out.
“Anniversaries, nights away from home, and special occasions call for the fancy stuff. Friday night closes out the week,” Maya added. “Closeout his week by giving him a place to call home – you.”
The sound of the loud, stupid, camouflage truck coming down the road was Maya’s signal to leave. Placing an affectionate kiss on her daughter’s jaw, she hugged her tight, touching her belly and fighting back tears. “You are going to make an awesome mother,” Maya said, sliding out
the back door as Isiah walked up to the front entrance.
She greeted him at the front door as the timer on the stove went off. “Hello there, handsome,” she said, turning quickly to check the items on the stove.
“Hey,” he said, stepping into the living room with his arms loaded with a case of Bourbon. Her hips swayed in the loosely fitted dress which covered up all the things he loved to snuggle beside at night or put in his mouth. Seeing her standing over the stove stirring the pots of whatever smelled wonderful made his man parts tingle with the need to remind her how they made that baby.
“Long day? How was your drive?” she asked, turning off the skillet and moving it to an empty burner on the stove.
Isiah didn’t hear any of it. Last week he’d been too sore, too stressed, and too worried. Along with that, his lady had been sick and unable to hold down food. She appeared to be just fine this evening and the food on the stove wasn’t the only thing smelling fantastic.
“I just wanted to get home to you,” he said, setting down the cases. “The whole time I was driving, all I could think about was being in your arms.”
“Well, get over here and let me make that happen for my man,” she said, opening her arms.
“Your man? I like that,” he said, moving to stand in front of her. The push-up bra sent his brain into overdrive and his body part ready to tango. “Show your man how much you missed him.”
DeShondra opened her arms to embrace him and before she had a chance to exhale, his pants were down, her panties were off, and he was waiting for her to say yes. She nodded her head, and he impaled her in one motion as he stared deep into her eyes, connecting, moving, and feeling a new level of joy. He moved slowly, lifting and lowering her body as he stumbled down the hall towards the bed, falling on his side, still connected, kissing, touching, loving her as she clung to him. He increased the pace of his movement until she cried out his name, collapsing on his chest. Isiah finished closely behind her, gripping tightly to the dress, her thighs, and anything else he could hold onto.
Bleu, Grass, Bourbon Page 9