by Jami Denise
"I'm not tired. I want to talk."
His lips on my neck were warm and tender but distracting. He reached over, pulling my leg over his hip and bucked himself against me roughly. I could feel his erection and my head fell back against the pillow as he started to grind against me. It was the smell of the beer on his breath that stopped me from enjoying his affection.
Was that what it was all about? He was drunk and horny?
Hell no.
"Royal, stop."
"Mmmm," he hummed as his fingers trailed down my hip and dipped down between my legs.
I pushed on his chest, angry and confused. Didn't he realize I was upset? Was he so drunk he couldn't determine that I obviously wasn’t in the mood for sex anymore? I was enraged and disgusted.
"Fucking stop! You're drunk! I can't go through this again." I heard my voice crack and cursed myself for being such an emotional invalid.
He pulled away from me, his eyes dark and angry. "Fuck you, Jenna."
I gasped, shocked by his hateful words. "How dare you! I want to talk, Royal, but I’ll wait until you’re sober. Just go to sleep."
Without another word, he did. The tenderness was gone, and in its place, coldness and silence wrapped around me while I tried to sleep.
Chapter 4
"I'm going down to see my parents today. Wanna come?"
I looked over at Royal, hopeful that he’d come along. My parents had a way of making everyone comfortable and happy. I’d be good for all of us to relax a little and let go of some of the tension. You couldn’t help but feel warm and happy around them. They were just goofy enough to blow away the worst kind of anxiety.
"No,” he said, not looking at me. “I promised my mom I’d build some planter boxes for her garden today. I’ll take Benji with me.”
“That’s fine,” I said. “We’ll probably be there most of the day. We’ll meet you at your mom’s for dinner, though.”
"Sounds good.” He grabbed his coffee off the counter without another glance in my direction, not that I expected anything more out of him at that point.
I’d tried and tried to open up communication, but he was being a dick. Not only that, I was still highly pissed off about Lana. Changes had to be made, but every time I tried to sit down and have a real conversation, he put me off. One step forward, two steps back.
He turned before walking out of the room. "See you tonight."
I sighed, watched him walk out of the room, and shook my head. Frustrated didn’t even begin to describe how I felt anymore.
* * *
An hour later we pulled up in front of the house and my mom was waiting on the front porch on her swing. As soon as she saw us she threw her book aside, smiled widely, and jogged down the steps to greet us.
She just couldn’t wait.
"There's my girls!" She gushed like she hadn't seen us in years. It didn't matter if it'd been a week or a month; she was always just as excited.
"Hi, Nana," the girls chimed in unison.
She kissed us all on the cheek and rushed us inside. "Your gramps is going to be so excited that you're here! Are you staying for dinner? I could throw something together."
I looped my arm with hers and laid my head on her shoulder. I loved my mom so much. The woman was too sweet for her own good. "Sorry, Mama. We’ve got dinner at Sarah’s tonight." I barely suppressed the urge to roll my eyes.
"Oh, I see. So, what are you making?" She giggled and gave me a little hip bump. My mom was a smart lady.
"She's cooking. I'm not sure what, but she insisted she wanted to do it this time."
"Well, that sounds very nice. However, I’d really like it if we could do dinner here next weekend."
I gave her a sad smile. "Sorry, Mama. It's Tara’s birthday. Maybe the weekend after?"
She held the door open for me and shook her head. "Guess I'll take whatever I can get."
She was kidding; she never got mad. It still made me feel guilty. "I promise the weekend after, and maybe we'll make it a weekend—the boys can go fishing, and we can take the girls shopping. That'd be nice."
The screen slapped closed behind us, and my father called out from the living room. “Who’s going fishin'? Roy come with you?"
He sat in his regular spot in front of the television, newspaper across his lap and TV table loaded with beer, the remote, his pipe, and his jar of peanuts. The living room was his planet. If he was home from work and not out fishing, he was sitting in his chair watching TV.
"Hi, Daddy.”
I moved through the house and gave him a big kiss on the cheek and then patted the bald spot in the middle of his skull.
He lowered his glasses and smiled up at me. "So? You bring Roy along? Where's my little pal? I didn't hear him."
I gave him a small pout and shook my head. "Sorry, Dad. They're at Sarah's today. She needed some work done around the house. You’re stuck with me and the girls instead. I was making plans with mom for a couple weeks from now. Are you going to be around then?"
I almost laughed at the disappointment in his face. "Well, guess that's okay. That woman doesn't have anybody but Roy to help her. Yeah. I should be around." He went back to his newspaper, and I took that as my cue to leave the room.
The rest of the day was spent with my mom working with Laney on the costume she needed for school. I was worthless with a sewing needle, but my mom was an expert. I made lunch while they worked, and then the other girls and I spent some time in the garden, pinching off dead roses and pulling some weeds. Mom had arthritis in her knees, so she had a hard time dealing with the garden most of the time, but it was a beautiful garden. Exceptional. My love of gardening and flowers came from working in that same yard with her, and the girls enjoyed it just as much.
Too soon, we were back on the road and on our way over to Sarah’s. I was tired. I hadn’t been sleeping well and after working in the sun all day and the drive there and back, I would have rather gone home and soaked in a bath. But this was tradition, and with all things considered, I guess it was necessary to keep things the way they’d always been. At least for the kids.
I couldn’t help but think about my mom as I drove. I’d caught her several times, looking at me like she had something to say, and then she’d shake her head and look away. She knew something was up. I was just glad she held her tongue in front of the girls. I wish I would’ve just stayed for dinner instead of going to Royal’s mother’s house. She drove me up the damn wall, for one, and for another, I felt like the monkey on my back was clawing me bloody. I had to get it off my chest.
* * *
After a painful dinner with Sarah and her passive-aggressive crap, I’d officially had it. I’d been running on fumes as it was, and she always wore me out with her nitpicking.
Benji fell asleep, so we decided to leave him for the night. He slept over with Sarah regularly, and honestly, I was ready for the break. I carried him upstairs and got him tucked in before I left.
When I got back downstairs, Royal and the girls had already gone home. I didn't mind driving home alone. It'd give me a little while to unwind and relax.
I was relieved to find the house dark when I pulled up. Royal left the porch light on for me, but it looked like they’d already gone to bed. I wasn’t surprised. The girls were nodding off at Sarah’s.
Once inside, I set the alarm and went to the laundry room to start my first load. The girls usually took turns helping with the laundry, but they’d been so busy with school and events, things had started piling up. With four kids that tended to happen. I’d let it pass during the school year. I’d rather have them concentrate on studies and being kids. But come summer, I was going to take advantage of them being home.
I started with a batch of Royal's socks because they took the longest. His feet smelled like rotten hamburger, and his socks were so putrid I almost couldn't stand them. I loved the man, but those feet of his could knock a grizzly on its ass. Gingerly, I tossed them in the tub, threw in some soap and bakin
g soda and stated a soak cycle before going to bed.
Usually, I’d try to get more done, especially on Sundays, but I was too tired to get anything else done.
I crept up the stairs, careful not to wake anyone, but was surprised to find Royal in his office. I stopped in the doorway, leaned against the door jamb unseen and watched as he smiled and tapped away at the keyboard. The lights were off, but the glow from the monitor lit up his face.
I stood in the doorway, unseen and watched as he smiled and tapped away at the keyboard. The light was off, but the glow of the monitor lit up his face.
"What has you so tickled?" I asked, stepping into the room.
He lifted his head and his smile fell. I stopped mid-step and crossed my arms over my chest. It felt like I’d been slapped in the face. I hadn't meant to intrude on him, but I couldn't help but wonder what had him smiling that way. He was never on the computer unless he had work to do and never on the weekends. I just found it odd.
"Nothing. Glenn sent me this email."
He clicked the mouse a few times and then turned off the monitor before spinning in the chair to face me. "Some stupid video."
He seemed perturbed with me, so I gave him a tight smile before turning slightly to walk out. "I didn't want to disturb you or anything. I'll leave you alone. I'm just going to get ready for bed. Good night."
Screw that. He didn’t want to talk to me, obviously, but I couldn’t help but feel like he was hiding something. The whole thing was strange.
"I'm coming. I was just waiting for you."
“Whatever.” I turned without another word and went to our room. I had nothing left for the night, and a fight would send me straight over the edge.
He was right behind me as I entered the room, and when he shut and locked the door behind us, I had to control the urge to roll my eyes.
That was one of his tells, the hint that he was in the mood. That made my head spin even more. His abrupt, asshole reaction to me coming into his office was not a signal that we were heading in that direction.
I ignored it and him. Instead of dealing with his up and down crazy behavior, I grabbed a tank top and a pair of sleep shorts from the dresser. I could hear him taking off his clothes behind me, but he didn’t make a move thankfully.
He climbed in bed, and I peeked over at him. He’d just pulled the sheet over his legs and caught my eye.
"Are you coming?" His voice was slightly teasing, but it put me off.
"Yeah, just give me a sec."
As fast as I could, I shed the rest of my clothes and slid into my pajamas. He was watching me—I could feel it. For once, I didn’t want him to. I wanted to crawl in a hole and disappear.
I climbed in next to him, turned off the light, and snuggled into the mattress like it was heaven. My body ached and my brain hurt. I just wanted sleep. A lot of it.
I felt his touch on my shoulder and sighed. He wasn’t going to let me sleep, but there was no way I was going down that road. Sex was so not on the table. I could barely keep my eyes open.
I turned over and faced him and found him staring at me with the strangest look on his face. It woke me right up.
"What's going on, Royal?" I tried desperately to keep my voice from shaking but failed horribly. I could feel my chin quiver—something that always happened when I was ready to cry.
"I'm just fucking tired. Don't worry about it. I'm fine. It's all good." He gave me a weak smile that I didn't buy at all.
"I don't understand why you can't tell me what's going on with you. Is it me? Did I do something? Work? Is it work?"
He huffed loudly and fell onto his back, his arm going over his face and covering his eyes. "Fuck, Jenna. I just said everything’s fine. Maybe if you'd stop nagging me for five minutes, you'd hear what I'm saying. I just have some shit on my mind. If something was wrong, I'd say so."
I couldn't believe he was being such an asshole. I only wanted to help. He had been the one flipping back and forth all night. Hot one second, cold the next. Sex on the brain to leave me the fuck alone. My nerves couldn’t take it.
Was I concerned? Absolutely. We’d always been a team—one unit. Always had been. The distance was killing me, and his mood swings were so confusing I had whiplash.
I hated seeing him upset, but God, I was so tired.
"Whatever. I'm sick of fighting about it. I'm tired. I have to work tomorrow, and then I'm stopping at the cemetery." As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I felt his body tense up.
The cemetery was always a sore subject, and maybe somewhere in my subconscious I wanted to hit him in the gut the way he’d been hitting me for weeks.
"Why even bring it up, Jenna? I know you go every Sunday. Every Sunday I tell you the same thing. I'm not going with you."
His attitude towards Teddy was hurtful. I never understood how he could be so callous and cold about it.
"I didn't ask you. Make sure you let the dog out before you go to sleep. Good night."
I turned over and let silent tears fall down my face while I thought about our little angel.
November, 1991
"Baby, you have to breathe," Royal said, brushing the hair off my face. "Deep breaths, remember. Just relax, you have to relax."
The pain started that morning. Unrelenting, bone-breaking pains. I wasn't ready. I was terrified of giving birth. I thought I was prepared, but once the pain started, I didn’t feel strong enough.
"I'm trying, dammit!" Just then, a wave of pain shot through me, and I hunched over with my arms around my belly. I was sure it wasn't supposed to feel like that. There had to be something was wrong. "Where the hell is my dad? We can't wait, Royal. Take me to the hospital now!"
He was on his feet and running down the stairs to get my mom before I finished the sentence. His face was full of fear and the unknown. I heard two sets of footsteps running up the stairs and seconds later saw the horrified look on my mom's face. I knew she could see something wasn’t right.
"Royal, call 911. I don't want to try to get her downstairs alone. Joe is nearly an hour away. We can't wait. I thought we had more time."
She stayed with me while Royal called 911. His voice shook, and his eyes were full of agony, but they never left mine. We both knew something was wrong, but neither of us could say it out loud. I could see it all over his face. He was terrified.
Minutes after he hung up, I heard the sirens coming down the street. My mom scampered around the room gathering my bags and things I'd need in the hospital, while Royal wrapped my robe around my shoulders.
The pain was so intense I was numb. Everything was a blur as we made our way toward the hospital. Sometime between my parent's house and the hospital, everything went black.
* * *
Two days later, I was still in the hospital recovering after giving birth to our son. Two days of mourning the baby I’d never again get to hold in my arms. Two days earlier, we’d set up a tiny nursery in the corner of our room at my parents’ house.
I could picture every inch of the room as I lay there: the changing table against the wall stocked full of disposable diapers, rash creams, and wipes. The stack of soft cotton outfits folded and settled inside a drawer in my dresser, and the colorful blankets that sat on top. Every minute I spent shopping for exactly the right print, the perfect color, the cutest outfit. Every second I spent choosing the right things to eat, drink, vitamins to take. Hours and hours spent thinking about what to name him, and the day we decided on Theodore. Teddy, for short.
I couldn't fathom going back to that house just to see it suspended in time, waiting for a baby that would never come home.
Royal, with the help of my parents and his mother, planned and attended Teddy's small funeral. I couldn't get out of bed. Royal took the brunt, and in a lot of ways, I felt like he resented me for it. I escaped—hid in my bed in denial and cried. He had to be the strong one for both of us. I failed my son twice—before coming into the world and again after. But Royal stayed calm. He let me grie
ve, he moved us along, and with his unwavering love, he pulled me out of the worst moment of my life.
It was a rare occasion when I'd hear Royal talk about Teddy. It was always brief and would leave him despondent and unhappy for days. I tried to be sensitive to his pain. There were several gentle reminders throughout the house, but I also didn’t shove the pain in his face. I knew that he loved his son more than anything; it was just too painful for him to remember.
* * *
The next morning, I woke up with a renewed outlook. Fighting would get us nowhere. We were going at each other constantly, and I knew it was mostly due to frustration on both sides. There had to be a way to chip away at the walls he’d built up, but bitching at him wasn’t the way to do it.
I was still dumbfounded by his weird behavior. The ups and downs left me dizzy. He’d always been a stubborn man, so I had to go into it with a strategy or he’d just continue fighting me tooth and nail.
Sunday’s were a busy day for me, so I snuck out of bed early, showered quickly, and got ready for my day.
I always opened Sunday, but I never left without fixing breakfast for everyone before I left. Royal wasn’t real big on cooking, and since he seldom had a hot breakfast during the week, the weekends were it.
Once I had the eggs and potatoes done, I started coffee and went back upstairs to finish getting ready to go.
When I got to our room, Royal was just waking up, stretching his arms over his head.
"Morning," he mumbled.
I looked him over and sighed. Not once in the more than twenty years we'd been together had I ever lost the lustful draw to him. He was a gorgeous man. Rugged, strong, and classically handsome. His broad shoulders, thick, muscular arms, defined chest, and impeccable ass were drawn straight from sin. Even though his age was beginning to show, it only made him more attractive.
There were more creases and lines on his face, his hair salt and pepper, and he didn’t have the slim, six-pack abs he’d had when we met, but none of that took one thing away from him. Instead, he was more handsome, seemed more manly and distinguished to me, like he’d lived a life full of happiness and laughter to cause those lines.