by Sienna Mynx
“Don’t remember inviting her to the party,” Pops said.
“I invited her Pops,” Brick answers.
“That so?”
“Yeah, that so. Because she’s my wife.”
Pops freezes. He stands erect and nails me with his piercing eyes. I’m terrified to lower my gaze. I squeeze Brick’s hand for courage.
“You did what, boy?”
“I married her. We went to the islands for Marcel’s wedding and fell in love again. So, we got married.”
Pops looks to his brother and then to Brick. He throws the pool stick on the table and his face turns red and tight with rage. He takes a step toward Brick and he’s snarling words in broken French. I don’t understand much of it. It would take a blind man to not see whats coming so I step in front of Brick. He tries to pull me back, but I speak.
“Can I say something? Please?”
Pops stops. His nostrils flare like a bull. His lips are pressed into a thin line. He towers over me and Brick. Which is something my fiancee doesn’t like. Brick moves me aside. I swear there is no man on the planet taller or meaner than Pops. Not even his sons. Still I hold my ground. “Please Brick, let me speak to Pops.”
“What you got to say?” Pops says with a deceptive smile.
“I want to thank you first, for letting me stay here all those years ago. Knowing my family and everything, you welcomed me into your home. Gave me and Brick a chance.”
Pops frowns and the bulk in his chest deflates a bit. His fists unclench. I hurry to continue. “I love Brick. I have loved him since this entire thing between us started. I was younger and he was too, but we loved each other.”
“That why you run off and marry some faggy boy?” Pops smirks. I hate the term faggy or faggot. Xavier’s homosexuality was never the issue for me. His cruelty and deceptive nature made him the monster. But I don’t correct a man like Pops. I’m sure when I leave the room he isn’t above using the N-word.
“You know my father,” I say.
Pops stops smiling and nods his head.
“Then you know my father felt like he owned me and my choices. Just like you think that you own Brick, and…”
“I do own Brick,” Pops snap.
I continue. “Brick and I didn’t have a chance between men like you both. I let my father tear us apart. It almost killed Brick. But that was then. This is now. I won’t let you do to us what my father did. I love him. I want to marry him. And I want you to let him go.”
Pops brows lower over his glare. “I thought you were already married?”
“We are!” Brick tried to interject.
“We aren’t legally married.” I confess. I know Brick wants him to think we are, but if Pops is anything like my father he’ll take a lie as a sign of weakness. Even a small one. I waited too late to stand up to my father. It’s not too late for Brick. If I push him in the right direction, which means Brick has to fight back against Pops with his mind not his fists. I think Pops sees through my plan. He stares me in the eye and that sly smile to his face is unnerving. I know he’s a killer, a criminal, a man to be feared. I know this. But I also know he’s a father. And if what Evangeline and Sheila once told me is true he loves Brick most of all.
“Bricks happy with me, Pops. He’s playing his saxophone again.” I announce to the room of men. I can hear Brick groan behind me— as if he’s embarrassed.
“I guess Brick wishes right now I would shut up. He thinks his way to get through to you is showing you he’s tough. Well he is, Pops. He’s taken the worst you’ve thrown at him and he’s still a good man. But you have to know he’s different. He isn’t the same Brick I left four years ago. Do you want him to be you, Pops, or do you want him to be Brick again with me?”
Pops glances at his son and then to me. “You love my boy.”
“He’s a man. And I love him to death. The same way Evangeline loves you. We Creole women have a hard time letting go.”
Pops brows lift with surprise and he smiles. He shakes his head and walks away. “Brick. You owe me, son.”
“Yes, sir. I know. I’ll work off that debt. But I want to open the club again to do it. Make some money my way, not your way. Pay you back, every dime, Pops.”
“You better,” Pops says. He wipes his jaw. “Welcome to the family, Coco. When’s the real wedding?”
“This week we go to the courthouse to sign our license and take our blood test. We will go before the justice of the peace. It would be good if you’d come. Support us.”
“I might do that. Stay for dinner. We need to celebrate. Beau, go tell the others. Our little tadpole done become a man. A married man.”
Brick’s uncle chuckles and comes over and hugs him. I smile at Brick. And he smiles back.
Chapter Thirty-One
My wife is remarkable. She makes an effort to understand my family. And I actually see my sisters make an effort this time to welcome her. Pops has cleaned up and showered. I’m sitting with him and my uncles on the third floor deck to the back of his house in the trees. I can see out to the swamp and cabins on wooden stilts that belong to the family. Everyone in Golden Meadow has come to congratulate Pops on my marriage, and get a peek at Coco. For Cajuns, weddings are rights of passage and a big reason to celebrate. We do it with what we call La Bal de Noce. Right now, the women are setting up for the ceremony while the men eat and drink.
I look over to Pops who is laughing at some hunting story my brother is sharing. Apparently, the inexperienced hunter on the trip shot a hole into the bottom of the boat after being scared by a gator before they made it out of the marsh. Pops is tickled to the point of falling over in his chair. And Pops laughter is contagious. All of the men are laughing to the point of tears. The story is funny but not that funny. Pops seems to be in a good mood.
“It’s your wedding day, boy and you look like you going to a funeral, yeh.” Pops passes me his jug of homemade liquor his brothers still brew deep in the bayou. I shake my head no to the offer.
“Sticking to it, I see. Good. Good. I wish I could.” Pops says. All of him, his brothers and sons are hooked on hooch. I guess we come out of the crib with a taste for it. Except my taste for alcohol makes me self destruct. So, no thank you.
“Can we talk, Pops?” I ask.
“I’m listening.”
“Alone,” I ask.
Pops waves his hand at the men all gathered around him. My cousins and uncles all leave, including my brothers. Everyone goes except for Uncle Beau. He doesn’t leave Pops side for any conversation—not even with his children.
“I know you heard about the work that Coco does in New York. The musical that got her the awards and stuff. Jessup called me and said reporters were calling and one tried to meet with you.”
“Yeah, I heard about it. Beau told me about it. Showed me some pictures on the computer. They got some scrappy playing the flute in the play. He suppose to be you?”
“Saxophone. Yeah, Pops. He is.”
“So you knew about this eh, musical? You say nothing to me?”
“I went to New York to check it out. It doesn’t name me or you. Doesn’t really share anything about the family.”
“Then why they coming for you out here in the Bayou?”
“I… it came out in an interview. Her father named me. And with me marrying her the press will know all about me, about us.”
“Didn’t see the interview. Evangeline tells me about it. Says it was bullshit.”
“Coco didn’t approve of it Pops. They did it behind her back. You angry?”
Pops laughs. “I was angry. For a bit. That’s why I called you home. But that girl of yours has a way of explaining things.”
“She’s told her family to cut the interviews. And she won’t be giving any either. I just want you to know Pops that our marriage, none of it, will cause you problems.”
Pops smiles. “We’ll see. If it does, you know how I deal with problems. Don’t you, boy?”
I nod. Pops smacks me o
n the leg. “Enough of the explaining. I didn’t bring up the musical, so you shouldn’t either. I like her. She’s made of the right stuff. And that little dig she made about Evangeline?” Pops chuckles. “Yeah, you get it from your Pops. Adieu la fleur de la jeunesse. Let’s go get you married.”
I smile and agree.
We leave off the deck and descend the stairs just in time for the ceremony. The bottom floor of the house has been cleared of furniture. I pull my shirt out of my pants and roll up my sleeves. I don’t see her yet. But I know the women will have her ready soon enough. The band (family members who brought over their instruments) is playing ‘La Fleur de la Jeunesse’ . We Cajuns know how to have fun with each other. And before the festivities begin there’s some loud singing and cheering. Pops starts to dance in the middle of the floor and the kids all rush to dance with him. He picks up Moonstar and spins her around. While the other little kids grab his legs and try to climb him. My family laughs and claps, a clear sign that Pops is in a good mood so everyone else should be. I shake my head at the spectacle he is making of himself. He’s got at least eight small kids hanging off him and clinging to him but he’s still standing.
And then the music stops. Pops shrugs off the children to a round of applause. Only Moonstar refuses to let go of him. So he carries her in his arms and comes over to me. “Showtime son. Not to late to turn back?”
“I’m ready,” I tell him. My new bride and I must make a showing. And she soon appears. She walks out from the left hall with Evangeline and my sisters. They have decorated her hair with flowers and she’s changed into a white chiffon dress that has multiple layers around the skirt—and was probably hand sewn by Evangeline. There are plenty of wedding dresses here with all the marriages we have. Whoever gave her the dress found a perfect fit.
She walks over to me. I extend my arm to encourage her to take it. She does. We walk slowly around the room and the band plays a special song for the wedding march. It’s by a Cajun artist that we all know and love. Pops is the only one given a seat while I present my bride to everyone in Golden Meadow that has gathered. Moonstar sits on Pops lap and claps. Evangeline stands at his side. We stop our wedding march in front of them. Coco looks at Pops and then so do I. He gives his seal of approval for all to see with a nod.
I then take her by the hand and lead her out to the middle of the room while everyone watches I pull her into my arms and we dance something similar to the Waltz. I lead and she’s good at following without stepping on my feet. I’m so proud that she has come back to me. We dance until the song concludes, and another starts. Pops and Evangeline approach. I take Evangeline, Pops takes my woman. She smiles for Pops. My father has put on a pressed shirt and clean pants. He even shaved before the festivities. He waltzes Coco around the room and I keep my eyes on them.
“Relax, he likes her, cher, or else he would have never allowed this marriage.”
“I don’t need his approval, Evangeline. I’m a grown man.”
She chuckles. “Bien sûr que oui, you his boy, his favorite. You know his approval is what you need. Look at them. Looks to me like he approves.”
Evangeline is right. Coco’s laughing and I’m not sure who is charming who. “Pops isn’t all bad, Brick. Yes, he has done some bad things. But he loves this family and he loves you. Every time you fall he’s right there for you. It was a good thing you brought her here. Gave him respect. It’s how you earn it.”
I look down into Evangeline’s hazel green eyes. I’ve never held her this close. Never saw her beauty. Never really liked her enough to try. But if I had to be honest then I’d have to admit she has taken care of this family well. Maybe not in the ways I often approved. I remember how she fanned the flames of rage with Pops over Sheila’s rape after the young girl confided in her, and then took her baby from her and claimed her as some reward. I’ve seen her do things in the bayou that would turn a young man’s hair grey. She’s as vicious as my father, and as loyal. They make a strange pair. But she’s perfect for Pops and she loves him, the way he needs to be loved.
“Merci,” I say to her.
Evangeline chuckles and dances with me. The music switches and the family joins in on the fun. I go for my bride and we dance to the folk music. She’s spinning from arm to arm and swinging around the room. The party goes on for the rest of the night. And I’m with her at my side.
“Oh my God! Oh my God!” Coco runs in through the cabin door. Before I close it she bolts straight for the bathroom and I can here her on the toilet peeing. She doesn’t close the door. I told her not to drink the hooch they were scooping cups in and out of a barrel. But the festivities went to her head. A novice like her won’t last long. Yes, she charged and giddy, but soon disaster will strike. I brace for it.
“I love yooooooooouuuuuuuuuu truuuuuullllllyyyyyyyyyy!” she sings. I smile and walk over to the sofa to sit down. It’s the longest pee from a woman I ever heard. We decided to stay the night. I’m glad. I’m too tired to drive home now.
I hear her flush the toilet, turn on the tap, and wash her hands.
“I loooooooooove youuuuuuussssss trulllllleeeeee ma deeeeeaaaarr!” she sings.
“Bae-bee, it might be best to sleep it off.”
“Noooooo! Cause I want yoooooooouuuuuuu trullllleeeeeeee!”
I chuckle and close my eyes. My shirt is unbuttoned and I’ve lost my shoes somewhere in the house. She danced them right off my feet. I have to admit seeing her full on the hooch was fun.
Coco comes out of the bathroom. “Brick?”
I look back over my shoulder at her. She’s holding her stomach.
I frown.
“I don’t feel good,” she says and burps. Here comes the disaster. If she’s sick my lust for her is on hold for the night. She takes a few steps forward and stops. Right then and there she pukes. She turns and runs for the bathroom gagging. I sigh. I take off my shirt and get ready to care for her.
“Brick!”
Coco sits straight up in bed screaming my name. I’m startled awake. Outside the cabin we can hear the families partying. Typically a wedding celebration doesn’t end to dawn.
“What is it bae-bee?” I ask.
“Huh?” she says and weakly falls over on my chest. She burps. She’s still juiced. I rub her back. It’s taking its toll on her, and probably giving her nightmares. This will teach me to let her loose around here. I have to take better care of her.
“Sorry Brick. I didn’t know where I was,” she says and chuckles.
“Sleep it off, Coco.”
“I don’t want too,” she groans. And then she rolls her body up on top of me before sitting up and straddling me. I hope she can feel how hard my dick is. Because she’s killing me. After her sickness I cleaned up the place with bleach and lysol, while Coco lay on the floor burping and passing gas. I took the time to clean my wife. That, too, gave me an erection. I’m a man. I can’t control it. You know you love a woman when you can take the good and the bad. So, of course, I put her in bed, naked. And I made sure I was naked too. I held her, but the more I held her the more my dick hurt. I had to force myself to mentally retreat. Now she’s awake and tempting me.
I’m lying flat to my back with my intoxicated wife gyrating on my lap.
“What are you doing?” I sigh and try to move her off me.
“It’s my second wedding night. The first one didn’t go so well.”
I have to smile. I don’t need her cherry. I have her heart.
“Wanna try again? I can take it this time. Your dick is so thick though, Brick, it hurts and…”
“Hey, it’s cool babe. I’m good. I would like to sleep.”
She rubs her hands up and down my chest. “You still want me?”
“Not unless you brush your teeth.”
Coco laughs. She gets up from my lap and stumbles around the room. I roll my eyes, prepared to help her.
“No! You stay right there, husband. I…” She burps. “Will be right back.”
I l
ie back down. She goes in to the bathroom and starts to brush her teeth with one of the extra toothbrushes I have in there. I have to smile to keep from laughing. Her bumping around in the dark is hilarious.
“Babe? Let me help you,” I sigh and get up to go after her. She runs out of the bathroom grinning and tackles me back to the bed.
“Put it in me, Brick!” she says and bites my chest. I roll her over to her back to force her to stay still. She laughs out loud and bumps her pelvis up against me trying to lick my mouth.
I kiss her and taste the toothpaste on her lips. At first she’s thrashing to get her hands free, but I calm her with another kiss. Soon, she’s relaxing. The crazy is subsiding. Lying between her soft thighs with my chest to her chest I can feel the rapid beat of her heart. It’s so damn sexy to me. I ease into her like an expert and once again we prove to be a perfect fit. And it’s nice. Slow and easy goes my first few thrusts and she moves her hips beneath me in a sexual circle that makes toes curl. I keep her arms pinned down. She’s tame and compliant. I hold her in that special magic of ours with my kisses but I’m loving my woman my way. Before long my thrusts go harder and faster than my usual love strokes and I’m breaking down too soon from my own sexual euphoria. I have to release one of her wrists to make sure she climaxes with me. The minute I do she’s pushing at my shoulder and wanting to throw me off to take control. I struggle with her. I ease my hand between us to tease her clit and she stops her play fight with me that is killing our groove. I tickle her clit and fuck her, and let go of her other wrist. She’s moaning and groaning and crying out in distress. My climax is timed with hers. And soon she’s purring for me with pleasure.