Holden

by Olivia Gaines

  “Your dad called me to come fix the short in the wiring in the storage room as well as the blinking lights in the breakroom,” Holden told him.

  “Well, come on inside. We are burning daylight,” Orlando said as he yanked the truck door open.

  The yanking of the door was a bit more aggressive than necessary which pushed Holden to charge him an extra fifty dollars for being a human tool. Holden also waited for Orlando to cut him a check to pay for his services once the job was complete. Flynn, the father, he would have given 30 days net, but Orlando...no deal. It did little to make him feel better since three hours later, Tallulah still hadn’t called.

  “It must not have been that good for her electrical man or your little wire must have shorted out during your connection. You been checking that phone every half hour for the past three hours,” Orlando chided.

  “Don’t matter none – your wife has called me twice in the last hour and left me two reminders about Wednesday.” Holden said to him as he held up his phone to show where Jacquetta had in fact, called him twice.

  “I don’t like you,” Orlando said with squinted eyes.

  “Don’t matter to me none because again, your wife does. I like her, too,” Holden said with a grin.

  “Get out of my damned store, Holden Cimoc!” Orlando said.

  “Okee-dokee,” he said to Orlando.

  Holden held up his hands in mock surrender, waved the check, and left the hardware store. Self-doubt crept into him the next hour. At five thirty, he had given up. He drove home in no particular rush to shower, get comfortable, and spend an evening listening to his roommate Brandon pontificate on the parallelisms of video games versus modern civilization. After ten minutes of that mindless drivel, his plans included a fresh cup of tea, a couple of his mom’s lemon cookies, and a new book by Ruth Ware.

  Tallulah called a little bit after seven. His heart thudded in his chest at the sound of her voice. She wants to see me again.

  “She wants to see me again!” he yelled when he hung up the phone.

  “Cool for you, dude,” Brandon said. “Who wants to see you again?”

  “My future wife,” Holden said. “Lock up when I leave. I won’t be back tonight.”

  He turned around three times in the middle of the floor trying to decide what to take with him for the evening. Tonight wasn’t going to be about more sex. Tonight I want to spend some time with her. Better yet, I want to spend the weekend getting to know her and letting her get to know me. Holden packed two separate bags. One for tonight. The other for the weekend. He loaded his truck, heading first to his parents, then to spend the evening with a lovely lady.

  The truck was left at his parent’s home. He exchanged the work vehicle for one of his babies, the 1994 Alpha Romeo Spider. One hundred twenty horsepower of wind in your hair driving fun. He drove a little over the speed limit, in a bit of a hurry to get to her place, making a left and turning up Mulberry, he called Tallulah.

  “Open the garage for me,” he said into the phone.

  She didn’t question, but went to the kitchen, hitting the button and raising the second garage door. The engine hummed softly as the sleek red car rolled into the garage with no lights on. The garage door was lowered behind the car as he cut the ignition, holding the keys with the not so lucky rabbit’s foot, lifting himself from the seat, climbing out of the sports car, and walking over to the door.

  “Wow, that is a pretty sleek and sexy little number,” Tallulah said to him.

  His gaze was on her, “Yes, she is.”

  Tallulah blushed.

  “Come on inside,” she told him.

  She expected the moment he closed the garage door that he would swoop her into his arms, carry her down the hall, and make mad passionate love to her. Instead he asked, “Do you have a tea kettle?”

  “What?” The fantasy playing in her head for the last hour was shattered by an ugly reality of him making a cup of tea that was probably going to smell like dirty hippie ass.

  “A tea kettle?” he asked again, looking over her shoulder into the kitchen. “Perfect, you do.”

  A light kiss was placed upon her lips as he went into the kitchen and began opening cabinets, looking for cups, saucers, and utensils. It was all out of whack which made the left side of his brain itch. He exercised a modicum of self-control as he moved only the bottom shelf of cups and saucers around so that the handles were all facing the cabinet door when she opened it. He reached for the shelf with the plates which had saucers mixed in the stack, but Tallulah stopped him.

  “Uhmm, what are we doing?” Seriously, I want to know. I want some more of what I had last night. I want you to slap my ass and have me call you names that don’t match your race.

  “I’m making us some tea. I brought some of my Mama’s lemon cookies,” he said with a smile. “They are so light, they almost melt in your mouth like macaroons.”

  Tallulah frowned at him like a spoiled child upset that she wasn’t able to play her favorite game of hide the snake in the kitty. Confusion was on her face when she gazed up at him, “So, no sexy time tonight?”

  The stove burner was set on high with the kettle nestled on the iron grate and blue flames caressing its bottom like a late night lover. The contents heated until it erupted into balls of steam, forcing the kettle to cry out from the pressure. He felt like the kettle, but more was at stake here.

  I have discipline. I am a man of discipline.

  “I spent time getting to know her last night. I would like to spend some time this weekend getting to know her owner,” Holden said.

  Gas stoves worked so much faster than the electric ones he was accustomed to using and within minutes, the 16 ounces of water were ready. His favorite lemon ginger tea was placed in a small tea pot he’d brought with him. He also added pineapple chunks, celery stalks and melon wedges to small plates separate from the cookies, which were placed on the saucers, and he carried the items to the living room, arranging them neatly on the table.

  What kind of bullshit is this? Tallulah stood back watching him, his strong thighs bent low as he opened his overnight bag to remove a hardbound book.

  “I would like us to end our week quietly. I didn’t get much sleep last night...so humor me?” he asked her.

  “I see nothing humorous about this,” Tallulah told him.

  “Come, sit next to me,” he said to her. He laced her fingers into his as he took a seat in the corner of the couch. He let go of her hand to pour first a cup of tea for her, then himself, passing hers as he leaned back. His cup rested inches from his fingertips on the end table.

  “Lean back and put your feet up, Tallulah,” he told her. He opened the book.

  “Hold up! Are you going to read to me?”

  “Yes, unless you prefer to read to me instead,” he responded.

  “Is it erotica to put us in the mood for some more of what we had last night?”

  “No, it is a best-selling novel that I have been anxious to read,” he told her. “I thought you’d enjoy this book as well.”

  This was not what she had in mind.

  I don’t want to read.

  I want to chew on my pillow some more.

  “Chapter One. The First Inkling...,” he began reading. The calmness of his voice laced with the heavy southern drawl was soothing as he read the words to Tallulah. The tension in her shoulders ebbed as the syllables flowed from his smooth tongue. Each sentence drew her deeper into the story. He moved on to Chapter Two as she nibbled on a cookie, sipping at the tea while listening to the section unfold. By Chapter Three, her eyes were drooping. Tallulah was two steps from sucking her thumb while twisting on a lock of her hair. At the end of Chapter Three, he used a string to mark the page.

  “Time to turn in,” he told her.

  “Oh, okay,” she said to him.

  “I’ll use the guest bathroom to keep from getting in your personal space,” he said to her.

  Tallulah, already dressed in something he could easily
remove, lingered in the hallway listening to the sound of him brushing his teeth in the hallway bathroom. Her ear was pressed against the door like a small child waiting on a decision from her parents about her punishment for breaking a rule. The sound of the water running as he rinsed out his mouth and spit into the wash bowl seemed so normal, yet odd by the same token. Of course he brushes his teeth. Her ear remained stuck at the door as she listened to him relieving himself, flushing the commode, and washing his hands. The handle turned on the door, startling her. Tallulah took off running down the hall in bare feet, springing to the bed and lying across the foot as if she had been there all along, waiting for him to join her.

  “If there is no preference, I’ll take the side of the bed closest to the bathroom,” she said.

  He wore plaid pajama bottoms and a tanked tee shirt as he pulled back the covers and climbed into the bed. Tallulah hesitantly climbed in next to him.

  “This feels weird,” she mumbled into the darkness.

  “No, it feels normal,” he said. “I don’t need to be inside of you every night. That is your power. You should never forfeit it to any man unless you want or need to. You make love to me when your body tells you it’s time. Last night it was time. Tonight you should heal and recover from my invasion and assault. When it’s time again, I’ll be ready when you are.”

  “Who are you?” she asked, looking at him in the darkened bed chamber.

  “I am your everything,” he told her. “Goodnight, Tallulah.”

  Tomorrow she would discover that he’d rearranged the linens in the hallway bathroom. He sorted the towels by color and then thickness. In his head, he was thinking of the best way to re-organize her pantry. He drifted off to sleep with visions of spices all in a row.

  Chapter Eight – Charging Stations

  Talullah only had Saturdays and half a day on Wednesdays off. Sunday mornings she went to church, then had dinner afterwards with her parents and her brother Ethan. On occasion, Ethan’s new wife would join them, but Ethan encouraged his wife to institute something similar with her family. It had all become a bit too incestuous for Tallulah’s taste. Alice Cimoc, Holden’s mom and serial cookie baker, enjoyed the wedding ceremony at the church so much that she joined the congregation.

  Alice was one of three Caucasian members. The other two were the secretary and the bookkeeper. Sunday evening was Tallulah’s recovery period before starting all over on Monday caring for sick children, injecting babies with needles, and wiping some form of human waste from her clothing or shoes. Saturdays belonged to her. She didn’t share her Saturday with anyone and she wasn’t about to start.

  “I brought the Spider because I would like to take you somewhere special today,” Holden told Tallulah.

  “Oh yeah, where?” she said with attitude as she made her Saturday morning coffee.

  “It’s a surprise,” he said with a smile.

  Tallulah wasn’t smiling back.

  “I think you will like it,” he said to her.

  “No. What I would have liked last evening was some of what you gave me Thursday night. Today is my day. I only get Saturdays off and I don’t want to share them,” she said firmly.

  “So what are you planning to do, order something greasy and sit in that dent on your couch while the television keeps you company?”

  “Yes, and use the dildo in my drawer to pleasure myself during commercials,” she said with a straight face.

  Holden burst into laughter. “You are nothing like I imagined you to be,” he said softly. “I like that.”

  “Oh yeah? Well this is the real me. I am not some trophy for you or any of these other yahoos to collect. I am not going to be your fancy, well dressed arm piece so you can go about town bragging that you bagged the black doc,” she said.

  He shook his head slowly as his smile widened. Holden spoke softly, “No, I have no use nor desire for an arm piece in my life. It is refreshing to see you be yourself. I imagine that is not something you get to do often. You are always so guarded. No...I’m liking you more and more each minute.”

  “I was liking you until you walked in my house with a teapot and some damned cookies,” she said with a frown. “I need coffee.”

  “No, you need to get out of this house,” he said. “Get dressed or come as you are, but I need you to come with me.”

  “And if I say no,” she said.

  “I will respect that, but,” he paused, “if you do decide to come, you will thank me. Your body will thank me and you’ll feel the difference about what I am trying to explain to you about your power.”

  Her arms were folded across her chest. She wore no bra as she stood in front of him in a tee shirt and pajama shorts with no underpants underneath. Eyes, which remembered the look she gave him the moment before her surrender, stared at Holden as she loosened the string and the shorts fell around her ankles. His body reacted quickly with his maleness growing hard, rising up in his pants. Her nipples grew taut, forcing him to touch himself.

  “Wow,” he said as he tried to push down the erection. “You did this to me with one look.”

  “Well, let the doctor make the pain go away.” She reached for him.

  “No,” he said calmly and stepped back. “I don’t want aggressive lovemaking with you. Thursday you were tense. Now, you are tense. If you come with me, when we return if you are still edgy, I will go with it. However, I want you to experience how powerful it can be when your body is in a relaxed state and in command.”

  “Holden, I don’t want to hear any more of this hippie, chakra, moon aligning with my fifth house bullshit. I want some dick. I want you to take me in that bedroom and fu...,”

  “Tallulah, stop it. This is unseemly,” he said gathering his belongings. “I will leave you to your drawer toys so you can enjoy your Saturday.”

  She sat sulking like a spoiled child while he gathered his few items. She was still pissy when she got dressed and walked him out to the garage. Using her keys, she took her garage fob out of her vehicle, along with her purse, then climbed into the passenger seat of the Spider.

  “You are going to love this,” he said with a huge grin at her change of heart.

  “Whatever,” she said, leaning back in the seat and putting on her Chanel shades, which matched the Chanel carry case that came from inside the limited edition Chanel bag.

  “Trust me –you are going to love it,” he told her, backing out of the garage, giving enough space to let down the bay door before pulling away and cruising down Mulberry.

  Loving it was an understatement.

  Holden handed her a bandana to tie over her hair as he left Venture, taking Hwy 221 up to where the Little River joined the Withlacoochee River flowing south and forming part of the boundary between Lowndes and Brooks counties in Georgia. The top was down on the Spider with tunes from Woodstock coming through the speakers loud and crisp. The wind whipped her hair while classic rock tunes swayed her body to the sounds of Sly and the Family Stone, The Rascals, and The Mamas and Papas.

  “They don’t make music like this anymore,” he said to her as they turned onto Blue Springs Road driving down Old Quitman Highway. He pulled up to the side of the Withlacoochee River and parked the car next to a large tree. Holden cut the engine and looked over at Tallulah with her wind-kissed cheeks. Her hair was out of place and this time he didn’t see a need to fix the wayward strands.

  “You look so beautiful,” he said as he leaned over, pulling her into his arms. He kissed her passionately, his mouth slanting over hers again and again, and his hand fisted her hair, holding her in place as he tasted the woman who was stealing his heart. Crickets chirped in the background, making music of a natural sort as he let go of her and grinned.

  Tallulah was out of breath.

  “Come,” he said.

  He popped the trunk open and pulled out a picnic basket and large blanket. The checkered cloth that he spread on the ground covered a good amount of space. It was followed by two firm pillows.


  “What are we doing?” she asked again, as if she couldn’t tell.

  “We’re having a day away from it all to lie back on the grass, dream, discuss what-ifs and learn about each other,” Holden responded. He pulled a garden gnome from the trunk to hold the edge of the blanket.

  “Oh, hell. You brought a gnome. You brought a peace sign holding gnome,” she mumbled as she eyed the red capped, surprised face little brownie.

  “I thought you would panic if I pulled a brick out of my trunk, especially after I have driven to the middle of nowhere,” he said with a crinkle in his forehead.

  “Ok, you have point,” she told him. She eyes him sideways. “Technically, you can still knock me unconscious with the gnome.”

  “It’s made of hollow clay,” he said.

  “So? Technically, since you drove your car into my garage, you could have bought your own damned pillow,” she reminded him.

  “If I had done that, how would I know you cared?” He winked at her. “Technically, I did buy it. You only went to pick it up.”

  “You are quick on your feet,” she said.

  “Yes, but I am not very quick in the other things,” he told her with a smile that loosened the rubber in her panties. It wasn’t true, but in her head she felt them sliding off her hips to give Holden access to whatever he wanted.

  Holden turned on a small transistor radio, which piped out classical music as he lay back on the blanket, staring up at the sky. “This is one of my favorite places to come and just be... did you know that the Withlacoochee River is undammed. It is one of the few undammed rivers left in the United States. It flows freely with its untamed black water. It kind of reminds you of a time when there weren’t so many expectations and you could simply live.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” she said to him.

  “Today Tallulah, there are no expectations of you. Today, you can simply be,” he said to her. “You don’t have to be the doctor, the perfect daughter, the wonderful big sister...none of those things. Today you can simply...be.”