by Ellen, Tracy
Laughing, I encouraged Tre J to take the whole bottle with her. When she left the kitchen I replied to my sister, “Ah man, do we have to talk about James Byrd?”
“Yes we do,” Jazy answered firmly. “Why won’t you hook up with him, Bel? Really, I think you should. He’s as great as they say!”
I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt that she wasn’t saying what I thought she was saying. “Jazy, why are you trying to push me and James Byrd to hook up? I don’t get it.”
Jazy’s grin was full of self-satisfaction. “He’s seriously got the touch, Sister. You would not believe what he’s done to me, it’s friggin’ amazing! I never believed a man could convince me to do half the shit James has, much less make me love it!”
Throwing my hands up in aggravated disbelief, I retorted, “Jazy, do you seriously think I need your advice on who to hook up with, for Pete’s sake? What about the limo? What was that all about?”
Jazy’s face wore a look of wary confusion at my tone and then her arched brows drew together in a slight frown. “Oh, the limo was just James’ unsubtle way of letting you know he’s interested in taking you on,” she shrugged and added with a flippant laugh, “and because he thought we’d enjoy the hell out of it. Hey Bel, why don’t you chill, I was only making a recommendation!”
I shook my head in dismay and crossed my arms. “Geesh, Jaz, the day I need you to recommend what man has the touch, especially after he’s touched you, is the day we’re both touched--in the freakin’ head! What is wrong in your brain that you’d think for one nanosecond I would ever be interested in such a thing? What do you think Luke would have to say if he heard you trying to hook me up with your leavings?”
Jazy now looked totally confused and then her face got tight. “My leavings? I haven’t left James. I told you he’s really fucking good and knows his stuff.” She got off her stool and grabbed her purse. “Fine, don’t take my advice on anything. God forbid the little sister should know anything in this damned family. What does Luke have to do with anything, anyway? Is he so great in this area, too? Are you so dick whipped you can’t make decisions now on your own?” Jazy grabbed her coat next and put it on with angry jerks. “Wow Bel, it’s been what--three days? Already you’re acting as brainless as every other woman around here because you’ve got a boyfriend. I NEVER thought I’d see this day!” She stalked off through the dining room towards the foyer and yelled back at me over her shoulder, “Even Charles Barkley says James is brilliantly talented!”
At the mention of my banker’s name, I was completely floored. I was sure that I’d lost my mind. Did Jazy say Mr. Barkley has an opinion, and a mighty positive one at that, on James Byrd’s sexual performance?
Then I burst out laughing. “Wait, Jazy! Just wait a minute, okay?”
I caught up with her in the dining room and threw my arms around her to stop her from leaving while trying to contain my laughter. She stood stiff with affront in my arms.
“You haven’t been talking about sex, have you?”
Jazy’s eyes bugged out at me like I was crazy which set me off again. I started hopping in place while holding my legs tightly together. I’d quaffed several glasses of water with our stir fry dinner. Crookie was a little heavy-handed with the Tamari.
I gasped out over my snorts, “Uh-oh, come with me to the bathroom before I pee my pants!”
Not giving Jazy a chance to leave, I held onto her and pulled her along while she fought to get away and shook her arm violently to dislodge me.
Distracted from his TV show, Crookie was watching us wide-eyed and inquired tentatively, “Did I hear yelling? Is everything all right?”
He looked at me hopping in place and laughing while holding onto a bucking, pissed off Jazy and turned to Tre J in bewilderment.
Grinning, she patted his shoulder and said, “Ignore them. They’re fine.”
I pushed the flailing Jazy ahead of me through the foyer. “Yeah, everything’s fine, we’re just going to the bathroom together!” To Jazy, I laughed and said, “Settle down, you’re scaring Crookie!”
Before the bathroom door had slammed shut behind us, I dropped my jeans and hit the toilet. Sighing with relief, I forced myself to be serious and explained, “Holy Crap, Jaz, since the second you opened your mouth about James Byrd, I’ve misunderstood what you meant about him! I’m sorry, okay?”
“Uh, so I gathered.” Jazy replied huffily and then couldn’t hold onto her mad any longer. She relaxed back against the door in the small bathroom and started laughing, too. “Did you see Crookie’s face out there just now?”
We snorted and snickered, and I answered, “Let’s just say Crookie’s had an interesting time of it these last few days while staying here with all us women. I think he’s traumatized.”
Finishing my business and then standing at the sink to wash my hands, I observed my sister cracking-up and interrupted to demand, “If you’re not trying to get me to make beautiful love with James Byrd, then what do you want me to do with the blasted man? I hope to God it has something to do with finance since you invoked Mr. Barkley’s hallowed name.”
Jazy laughed harder. “Give me a minute here. I can’t get your face out of my mind either. Now that I know what you’ve been thinking all along and remembering what I said…” She rubbed her face and got her breath. Then she glared at me and sniffed in a righteous tone, “Hey, that’s some messed up shit you accused me of doing, Bel. Against the record, I’ve never slept with James Byrd. I should smack you for even thinking such rotten things about me.”
“It’s for the record, not against, and I’m astounded to hear you’ve passed James up. Isn’t he some kind of super-stud with a dong-a-long of impressive proportions?” Right after the words left my mouth; I shook my head in dismay and quickly held up a hand to stop her from answering. “Never mind, please don’t say one word. I really don’t want to know about James Byrd’s sex life or his anatomy. It’s those Florida girls. All their penis talk was a bad influence on me this weekend.” I tugged on the bathroom door knob and Jazy stood up straight while I went on, “And of course that’s pretty messed up shit to accuse you of, Jaz. That’s why I got so weirded out. The idea you would ever think in a million years your favorite middle sister would want your leftovers is just sick!” Stepping into the hallway, I shuddered. “I don’t get why would you want to smack me for what you were thinking? You should beat yourself up, if you feel the need to hit something.”
My tough little sister’s nostrils flared and I smirked. “Dick whipped, am I?”
When I saw her arm twitch, it was my signal to run. Hurling threats, Jazy chased me down the hall, past my lovestruck and useless bodyguard on the sofa, twice around the dining room table, and back into the kitchen. Laughing from across the island, I called for a truce and Jazy must have been feeling off her oats because she agreed. Fanning her rosy cheeks, she took off her jacket and sat back on her stool. I poured us each a glass of chilled Riesling.
Jazy took out her spite by informing me the rumors concerning the freakishly handsome James Byrd were true. He was a super-stud with a super-dong. Against my will and with way too much relish, Jazy named names and gave me in-depth, second-hand testimonials regarding his sexual expertise. She used sex slang I’ve never heard of before to describe sexual techniques and gymnastic maneuvers I’ve never dreamed of before. When she ran out of fingers and toes to count out women’s names, I didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. I was definitely impressed with her total recall and attention to detail.
Snorting at my dazed, round eyes, Jaz ended by saying, “I’m practicing one of your rules, Bel. Never mix my business with my pleasure. That’s the main reason I can’t give you a first-hand account.”
“Holy Moly, thank you for small favors!” I fanned my own pink cheeks.
I’d only recently discovered for myself the first-hand joys of a super-dong and I took a long drink of cold wine to wash away the hot thoughts of my absent boyfriend. Listening to
Jazy regale me with twenty of James Byrd’s unique sexual encounters that qualified him as a super-stud, I was feeling gauchely inexperienced and somewhat dizzy. Yes, some of the acrobatics Jazy mentioned sounded very uncomfortable. And I’m also pretty sure there was no way I’d willingly go sit in a closet to wait for any man while he leisurely drank a scotch and decided whether or not he was in the mood to fuck me. But all in all, I was still transfixed by Jazy’s recounting.
Feeling a little bitter for what I’ve been missing by not being attracted to a man for years and years, I wondered if I should have read more hard core erotica.
‘No more excuses for you, Miss Pitiful!’ I warned the sex kitten in me.
I had that attraction to a male now and I was surrounded by books, so I just needed to make up for lost time. From now on, I was hard core. Who knows, maybe erotica won’t bore me like it has in the past now that I can envision Luke as the man. Regardless, I obviously needed to add Sex Ed to my current curriculum of training lessons and I wished Luke would get his privates home soon, so I could practice.
I’ve been practicing shooting the Ruger at the gun range with Jack Banner, I’m stepping up my morning workout at home, I’ve joined a kickboxing class three times a week, and my bedtime reading now consists of various how-to books. These books span a broad spectrum from “The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Private Investigating” to a translation of Sun Tzu’s “The Art of War”.
Luke was adamant that he be the one to teach me self defense. My sexy sensei cocked an eyebrow and explained this way I won’t learn any bad habits that he’d just have to turn around and make me unlearn. That’s great and I wanted Luke to teach me the sneaky good stuff, but I haven’t even had my first lesson yet. A girl can’t wait around forever. I’m pretty sure he also wouldn’t appreciate me getting any practice on my Sex Ed lessons from anyone else. This made me giggle when imagining Luke frowning at me while he directed me to unlearn some bad habits on that front.
Reluctantly, I abandoned this amusing line of thought when Jazy started talking about James again.
Upon Charles Barkley’s advice, Jaz approached James to help her financially and they’ve had nothing but a platonic business friendship. I was flattered that my baby sis took to heart one of my most sensible rules, and also relieved. At least this was one piece of life’s many puzzle pieces falling into place. It explained so much about the lack of intimate personal interaction I noticed between Jazy and James the couple of times that I’d met him. James Byrd isn’t her boyfriend, but her friendly financial genius.
Jazy smiled at me. “There’s no denying he’s a damned fine specimen of a male animal, but I’m actually okay with just being friends.” Both dimples winked when she went on, “Now his cousin, Max Byrd, is another story. There’s no way I’m doing business with that man. You should see him on a horse. He’s a Senator!”
Surprised for a moment, I then grinned. “You mean a centaur?”
Jaz tossed her head and shrugged dismissively. “Potato, Patoto…”
A snort escaped, but then I attentively listened while the words tumbled out of Jazy’s mouth. She was very excited to tell me all about the stupendously brilliant James Byrd. After she finished explaining everything he’d accomplished on her behalf, I admit my interest was piqued.
Teasing aside, Jazy was by no means slow. She did well in school and loves a good paranormal romance novel, if the heroine was kick-ass, but she’s the ultimate outdoors woman. There’s no denying she’s much more comfortable with animals and action, and that’s where her heart lies. In the past, you’d have to tie Jaz to a chair to coerce her to sit still and deal with financial investments.
That night, Jazy was full of shy pride when she explained how James got her interested in her own financial affairs. He took the time and patiently worked with her until she comprehended the basic language of finance. I could tell this was true because she was able to explain to me how he’s restructured the majority of her financial affairs. Thinking over what she told me, I could find no flaws in his planning. When I had time, I’d be looking up a couple investing ideas she mentioned for further research.
In the meantime, I was feeling a soft spot for James Byrd. He’s the man responsible for this new facet of self-respect I saw proudly reflected in my sister’s dark blue eyes.
Actually, between Jazy’s inherent good judgment of a person’s character and with Charles Barkley’s endorsement, I didn’t doubt for a moment James Byrd was the modern Midas with the golden touch like she claimed.
I had only one niggling doubt refusing to be stilled. “No offense Jaz, but this all begs the question. Just why is Mr. Magnifico willing to spend his time and energy on a small potatoes portfolio like yours?”
Jazy leaned forward and spoke eagerly, “I hear you, and I wondered the same thing. From what I’ve found out, James’ father split when he was a newborn and left his mom high and dry. James belongs to the Anishinaabe tribe and grew up on the White Earth reservation.” She added facetiously, “That’s up northwest somewhere in Bumfuck, Minnesota, in case you were curious.”
“Appreciate that helpful detail, thanks so much.”
Jazy grinned widely, but then her voice got serious when she went on, “Most of the White Earth Nation, which I’ve learned has over twenty thousand members, was living way below poverty level. The tribe didn’t have casino money back then to improve their quality of life on the reservation. I’m ashamed to say I don’t know too much about what life is like for Native Americans, but I about died to hear most of the houses there didn’t even have electricity or running water when James was a boy! Can you believe that shit, Bel?”
“Yes, I can believe it, all right,” I commiserated softly. Sometimes it’s no fun being a history buff. In most wars, there’s eventually a winner and a loser—at least until the next war. Losers always pay a price to some degree for the waging of that war. Still, the brutally sad reservation life forced on the majority of the conquered indigenous natives of America, and the scope of the damage that life has done to them as a people in the last century, wasn’t easily forgotten once learned. I’m no bleeding heart liberal, but facts were facts. The First Nations really got the shaft.
“Yeah, James doesn’t say too much about living there. His mom moved them to St Paul and worked herself to the bone cleaning houses. They were still poor, but at least life was a little better. Then she got a client, a rich man who owned an investment firm.” Jazy smiled and tapped her temple. “I can see the gerbil wheels spinning in your head, Sister, and you’re sort of right. This rich dude ended up being James’ mother’s Prince Charming, but not with any hanky-panky angle. He was impressed with Mrs. Byrd’s work ethic, took her and the nine-year-old James under his wing, and gave her a full-time position as his housekeeper. After that, he helped James’ mom invest every cent she could spare from her decent salary.” She laughed and apologized, “Sorry, but I can’t remember the rich guy’s name for the life of me.
“Hey, my gerbils are still impressed you could spout off all that sex stuff about James.” I chuckled, shaking my head. “PC works for me.”
Jazy grinned back over her wine glass. “Okay, PC took an interest in James when he realized he was a brain. PC wasn’t a hugs and kisses type of man, but the opposite. He was very reserved and old school. He was also filthy rich, but he never handed them over any cash. Instead, he made them both earn their money and then taught them how to make their money work for them. PC’s philosophy was that people can always take care of themselves and eventually prosper, if they follow those two basics tenets in life.”
Jaz and I traded wry glances at this familiar litany. PC sounded a little like a male version of NanaBel, just minus the hugs and kisses. Under the circumstances, that was probably a good thing.
She asked, “Do you want to hear about James’ schooling and stuff?”
Interested in hearing the complete fairy tale and not having anything else pressing to do, I asked her to wait while I quick
ly made us a bag of microwave popcorn to go so elegantly with our wine.
When the microwave dinged, I slit a small hole in the bottom of the bag. I then shook out all the old maids into the garbage so we wouldn’t break our teeth.
Jaz burst out in admiration, “Bel, what a great idea! I lost part of a filling a few months ago on a date at the movies and it really hurt. I’ve been afraid to eat popcorn ever since!”
“Pretty cool, huh?” Laughing, I added a dash of salt to the steaming bag and shook it. “Thank Chef Crookie. He showed me that nifty trick this weekend.”
I got out a bowl for our half of the popcorn, and then after thinking for a second, I grabbed a lunch-size paper bag from a drawer.
Jaz saw my smile. “You look evil. What are you doing?”
“Speaking of dating, I’m getting into the holiday spirit by spreading goodwill among men and women.”
I nodded towards the living room and raised my eyebrows suggestively. I shook out the hot popcorn until it filled about halfway up the paper bag. Catching on, Jazy’s frown cleared and she clapped a hand over her mouth to stop her erupting laughter.
She spread her fingers and hooted, “Oh my God, I forgot about that stupid boy trick!”
Suppressing my giggles, I carried the popcorn in its flimsy bag to the living room. I deposited it carefully on Crookie’s lap. He automatically reached to hold it in place, looking up from the TV in smiling thanks.
Smiling back, I said, “Here you go, guys. Now Crookie, be careful because this popcorn is super hot. Make sure you hold the bag like that to keep the popcorn steady, so poor Tre J doesn’t burn herself.”
He blinked, but gallantly agreed, “Oh, okay.” He turned to Tre J with a shy smile. “Want some popcorn, Tre?”
Tre and I shared a brief look while she bit her lip and I grinned broadly.
Reaching over and taking her time digging around in the bag on Crookie’s lap, she smiled beatifically a few inches from his face. “Thank you, Crookie. I just love popcorn.”