Big Daddy SEAL

by Mickey Miller

  I lowered my head to the desk and tried to process everything that happened. How had everything turned to shit so quickly? Things were starting to make sense!

  Despite watching my livelihood and legacy fall to tatters, it was Kade that cut the deepest. He didn’t even let me say goodbye to Emma.

  Taking care of that adorable brown-eyed girl this week had become so exhaustingly comfortable, that it felt wrong not to have her. It felt as if I’d misplaced one of my arms. She was so much work, but the little games we played and the way she smiled at me stirred something in my soul that neither my business, nor even Kade came close to reaching.

  I knew that finding Emma a home was always the plan, but not getting to see her one last time before she was gone…

  It twisted me all up and crushed me into a fine powder. I felt rudderless, hopeless, adrift in a vast ocean of loneliness.

  How could you do that to me, Kade?

  “Fuck!” I stuttered in air and choked back a flood of tears as the office phone began to ring again. I reached out to tear the cord out of the phone and kill the line all together but the answering machine was quicker and started playing the message.

  “Genny, Mom again. Please pick up if you’re there, sweetie. I’ve been calling your cell but it’s off. We’re worried about you and need to know if you’re alright.” There was a long pause, as Mom struggled to find the words. “Your father and I just want you to know how proud of you we are.”

  Proud? I coughed and choked. How could they possibly be proud of me?

  “I failed Mom.” I grabbed the phone and turned off the answering machine. “It’s over. There’s nothing to be proud of. I haven’t had the business for a full year and now it’s going to get sold off.”

  “Failed? Mom asked with genuine curiosity. “Tell me. How many orders have you received in the past month?

  “Like a dozen.” I snorted darkly, feeling that pit in my stomach grow. “The soap sales are at a record low.”

  “No.” Mom paused, carefully navigating how she was going to continue. “With your other business endeavor.

  “You mean the sex lube?” I clarified bluntly. I was too depressed and defeated to be anything but upfront and raw with my not-so-secret-anymore project. “I don’t know, several hundred, maybe as much as a few thousand.”

  “A thousand orders?” Mom’s pitch raised. “Sweetie, that’s more than double our best month in the past fifteen years.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to have to refund all the orders anyways. I don’t have the product to fill them.”

  “I heard,” Mom said. “The Copa’s called us to see if we knew what you were doing with their aloe. Your father offered them more money to send you the rest of the shipment, but they rather aggressively turned us down.”

  “Wait.” My head cocked back. I wiped my puffy red eyes. “You don’t care that I’ve completely twisted the ideals of the Shepherd Soaps?”

  “Ideals?” Mom laughed. “Your great grandfather funded this business with laundered money from bootleggers during the prohibition. Just because we made soap doesn’t mean our family is squeaky clean.”

  “Really? Great Paw Paw was a criminal?” How had I never heard about that before? “Wow.”

  “Honestly, Sweetie, the fact that you’ve evolved and were starting to thrive in a new day and age is incredibly admirable. That’s why we’re proud of you! Don’t listen to all the prudes in that town.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” The corner of my mouth threatened a smile. One part of the weight on my chest had been lifted. It was amazing how a few sentences from the people I loved made me feel so much better. “But what do I do know? If you guys couldn’t get Copa to budge, what chance do I have?”

  “Genevieve, in your short time as owner you’ve already done much more than we could’ve. If anyone can find a way to pull through this it’s you.” Mom let the words stand on their own before continuing. “Listen, we’ll support you if you want to sell Shepherd Soaps but don’t let anyone else make that decision for you.”

  I chuckled weakly and thanked her again for giving me some stuff to think about. The conversation drifted through several topics like it always did, but afterwards when we said our goodbyes I felt so much better.

  At least better enough to turn my phone back on and stop running from my problems.

  While my phone booted and updated, I listened to and deleted all the office messages I’d received in the last few days. I used my cell for most of the business stuff so I was terrible at checking the machine.

  The last message was from the delivery company confirming my order, shipping address and amount that was going to be billed. Everything sounded correct, like it had when I placed the order.

  I knew I was right! So what happened then?

  At the very end of the message right before the dispatcher was about to hang up I heard a familiar voice.

  “Wait! Hi! This is Genevieve Shepherd,” Amber said. “I’m a complete airhead. I forgot to update you. Yeah we moved. I need all that stuff delivered to another address. Are you ready?” Then the message cut off.

  “Oh, you incredible bitch!” I shot up and shouted. Immediately it all became clear. She was actively sabotaging me so I’d have to sell everything. That way, as per our our parents contract, she’d get half. “That. Is. It.”

  The apathy and dourness that slowed me down drained from my body, my limbs became lithe with an adrenaline-fueled fury. It only took a few minutes browsing through Amber’s Twitter and Snapchat to realize that she’d be out all day shopping with her friends. I wouldn’t be able to confront her until later this afternoon, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to wait around doing nothing. The gears in my head turned so quickly that I was surprised smoke wasn’t pouring out of my ears. Before long, I knew exactly how to handle my conniving, two-faced sister. I raced out of the store and drove into town.

  When I got back from the hardware store I changed all the locks of the attached apartment upstairs, then I moved all of her stuff outside into a big pile. Amber needed everyone to know where she was at all times when she was out shopping so I knew exactly when she was wrapping things up. When she was done for the day I poured myself a milkless bowl of the cereal she’d stolen from me and I waited.

  Amber stepped out of her car wearing an expression of angry horror at seeing all her possessions in a pile that clashed terribly against her cute pastel outfit. She lowered her oversized sunglasses and sneered at me. “What the fuck is this?”

  “Was I being too subtle throwing all your shit out onto the road?” I crunched on my cereal casually as I made my way down the exterior stairs that led up to the apartment. “You don’t live here anymore. I’m evicting you.”

  “You- You can’t evict me, you cunt!” Amber screamed, dropping both armloads of shopping bags. “I live there! Our parents-”

  “Gave me the building.” I completed the sentence for her and finished my cereal, then put the bowl down and wiped my hands. “So that makes me your landlord. You have the last eight-months worth of rent and utilities?”

  Amber paused, fuming, and decided to change the subject. “Mom and Dad are going to be so pissed when they hear about this! They’re going-”

  “To what exactly?” I answered, getting a flashback to my conversation with the Copas. So, THIS is how it feels to be on this end, huh? “Even if I hadn’t told them how you’ve been sabotaging the business at every turn, which I totally did by the way, they signed everything over to me when they retired.”

  “This is against the law!” Amber’s voice boomed with impotent rage and indignation as she stomped the ground. “You can’t just kick someone out, you have to send them some notices or something.”

  “You really didn’t listen to a thing our parents said did you. No wonder they gave everything to me.” I smiled. “I’ve been the one to let you live here, not them. I felt bad for you. I don’t anymore.”

  “I live here! I’ve got like squatters rights or wha
tever.”

  “Do you live here?” I asked, walking over to the pile of expensive designer clothes and handbags. All of which was bought for her by boys she’s been leading on or by fans of her channel. I picked up a red plastic, gallon tank. “You don’t get your mail delivered here. You never bring any friends over. You never mention this place in any of your videos. It’s almost like you’re ashamed to live rent free above your parent’s modest soap making shop?”

  “Tell me,” I poured the gasoline over the pile of her belongings. “Does anyone know you live here?”

  “Stop!” Amber’s already shrill voice went up several octaves. “Are you fucking insane you stupid, mega-cunt? I’ll-I’ll-” Amber rage diffused into sheer panic. “I’ll call the cops!”

  “I already did.” My smile broadened. “They’re on their way to escort a crazy trespasser off my property.”

  All the makeup in the world couldn’t keep Amber’s face from turning as pale as a ghost when I lit the book of matches and threw it on the fuel-soaked pile. The beautiful flash of bright orange fire consumed the fine cottons, blackened the exotic wools and melted through the plastics, and silks. Thousands of dollars worth of manipulated appreciation gone in an instant.

  Now all I had to do was get my damn shipment of aloe back and save my business.

  13

  Kade

  My mind swirled with a thousand--mostly depressing--thoughts, as the town landscape flew by. It was a grey day and my mood certainly matched the grimness outside.

  On the way to the Houston airport I found myself wondering what life might have been like if I’d stayed here after high school and not joined the military.

  I tried hard to stop my trail of thoughts, but it was incredibly difficult.

  They say anxiety is thinking too much about the future, and depression comes from thinking too much about the past. Well, the way I was thinking, I was definitely heading down depression road.

  The crazy thing was, although I could see my thought pattern, I couldn’t really stop my mind from wandering.

  I could have had a little baby like Emma with Genny.

  Sure, Emma cried a lot and staying up all night taking care of her would have been tough. But when Emma giggled, her laugh made the hardships worth it.

  What about Genny and me?

  I couldn’t help but crack the slightest smile thinking how we’d get a little bit angry at each other. Maybe have some crazy make up sex.

  Ah yes, make up sex, and then we’d fall asleep right next to each other in the same bed in each others’ arms.

  I tightened my grip on the steering wheel as I pulled up to a red light. It was only a few more miles until I would be at the interstate, and then in a couple of hours I’d be at the airport.

  I barely even said goodbye to Genny, but I knew if I said goodbye in person--shit--I was gonna have a hard time leaving her.

  My eyes unfocused as I pulled up at a red light. I turned to my right and a family of three rode in front of another vehicle. A middle aged man drove his truck, with his wife to his side in the passenger’s seat. The little baby was crying in the middle.

  The guy gave me a tip of his cap and I nodded back to him then refocused on the road, staring at the back of my palm. I cocked my wrist and stared at my watch as I waited for the light to turn green. That fancy-ass watch was really the only possession I had left to remind me about my brother. I threw it on in such a frenzy the other day, I hadn’t even really examined it.

  I heaved a sigh. Once I left this town, I could feel that this would be “it.” My brother--and Genny--were really the only connections I had left to my small town upbringing. Sure, I had my military buddies and they were great. But I’d met them all after the age of 18.

  Genny was my only real anchor. Well, Genny and Emma were my anchors.

  I liked having them both.

  Goddamn, Genny tasted so sweet. She tasted like--

  Fuck, I needed to stop thinking this way.

  Anxiously, I flipped my watch on my wrist. I took it off for a moment, then turned it over.

  This was one hell of a long red light.

  When I peeked at the silver underside, something caught my eye. There was something written scratched in tiny letters visible. I hadn’t even noticed it before.

  09-23-89

  I furrowed my brow.

  What the hell did that mean?

  I smacked myself in the head when the realization dawned on me.

  This had to be the combination for the safe.

  All at once I felt like life had just been breathed back into my body, and like the grimness I’d been feeling had hope at the end of it. I quickly turned on my left turn signal, then waited for the cars going in the opposite direction to pass as the light turned green. I took off, flying back to Douglas, Texas. I needed to see what was in the safe.

  When I got home, the house of my brother seemed brighter somehow. The white siding was cheery almost, as the sun went down on the horizon.

  I got out of my truck, noting the calm. The wind seemed to have died down.

  I rushed inside, into the back of his office where the safe was. Sure enough, the numbers clicked. I wondered what I would find inside as I turned the last number. What would it be?

  Gold bars maybe, a gun. What kind of stuff was my brother into?

  I opened the safe and a big stack of papers nearly fell out. I picked up several envelopes and looked at the outside. They were unsealed, but filled with parchment paper.

  My chest swelled when I saw the name they were addressed to: Kade Houston.

  Chills went down my spine as I fingered the envelopes. My hands started trembling and I swallowed hard.

  Why would my brother have letters here addressed to me? I pulled one of them out of the envelope and start reading it:

  Dear Kade,

  Jessica is 6 months pregnant. Isn’t that something? Geez, she got even hornier during the pregnancy. Which has been nice. Shit, is that inappropriate to mention? Or is that something brothers can talk about? I don’t know. I wouldn’t know. I haven’t spoken to you. God damn it Kade, it’s been two fucking years since I’ve even heard a peep from you. You don’t answer my calls. Or my letters. Anything. So, I stopped trying years ago. Anyways, I’m gonna continue with this letter, even though I’ll probably never mail it. Yeah, that’s right. Therapist said it’s good for me. Yes therapist. I said therapist. Hey, don’t judge.

  Look, I know you might not have read my last letter (because I didn’t send it) and probably didn’t see the one before that, but I’m really sorry about how things panned out. I still am. I get a weak feeling in my gut thinking about how everything went, and not the good kind. It’s not a feeling like my brother playfully punched me. It’s the bad kind of gut-wrenching. Like I just lost something I will never get back. Anyways man, shit. I’m on glass number two of whiskey right now, so I better call it a night. I’ve only got so much more time left till I can enjoy drinking. I’m gonna give up once we have the baby. Anyways brother, hope you’re well. And remember--you can’t get the the time back that’s gone. Always look ahead.

  Love,

  Jax.

  Holding the letter tightly in my hands, I walked out to the back porch; my boots feeling extra heavy as they struck the hardwood.

  A cool breeze came across my skin, and suddenly my body felt so damn cold. My chest ached. My arm began to shake uncontrollably with the letter in it.

  I walked down to a grassy part of the backyard that extended into the forest.

  “What the fuck, Jax,” I muttered aloud, to absolutely noone.

  Hate and bitterness had consumed me for so long over how he left the family high and dry. But, had my feelings been totally misguided? Jax was so right, I’d never truly given him a chance to explain himself.

  I needed to read the rest of the letters. But from the tone of that one, it surely seemed like he wanted to make up, and I was the asshole.

  I put my hands to my hips, inhali
ng deep the fresh outdoor air.

  I noticed some flowers in the backyard. Hmm. Odd. Seemed out of season to have bluebonnets in December--though it was still well above freezing.

  Just then, something caught my eye giving me pause.

  A blue throated hummingbird hovered between me and the flowers. My lips parted in disbelief. The beautiful bird immediately brought back a childhood memory of Jax and I--one of my few good memories before the hate and the bitterness had set in.

  We used to wait outside in the back for hours, hoping to catch a glimpse of any hummingbird at all. We saw a lot of them--but not once did we see the blue-throated hummingbird. In fact, it became a running joke between us.

  Where we gonna see the hummingbird with a blue throat?

  One year--I must have been eight or nine--we spent learning and tracking the migrant patterns of the different birds. The blue throated hummingbirds arrived in March and April, then left in September and October.

  We never saw one. And now here I was in December. So, what the heck was this bluebird doing in my brother’s backyard? It was crazy and maybe, I was reading too much into it.

  My hand trembled and a breeze took the letter, blowing it out of my hand.

  I was about to pick it up when the the hummingbird hovered just above part of it, it’s little feet landing right in the middle of the piece of paper. All I could do was part my lips, staring in disbelief.

  A chill started in my toes and spread all the way to my spine, until I felt the hairs on my neck standing up.

  I became less and less religious over the years but seriously:

  What the fuck was going on.

  Was my brother...trying to tell me something?

  Nervously, I ran a hand through my hair and finally watched the bird fly away.

  I picked up the letter, and the bird had left a little indentation in the part where Jax had wrote: