No Weapon Formed (Boaz Brown)

by Stimpson, Michelle

  “Oh? When?” Her stay in Plainview schools had become a running joke. Every year she said she was retiring. Never happened.

  “At the end of this school year, definitely,” she informed me. I got the feeling she’d shout it from the rooftops if given the opportunity.

  Retirement. What would happen to my retirement? If I stayed off work until Zoe started pre-k, would I have to work until I was darn near seventy? Stelson and I hadn’t made it that far in our discussion.

  “Congratulations. We’ll have a hard time filling your shoes,” I complimented her, taking the guest’s chair. Her office décor hadn’t changed at all in ten years except to add more plaques, certificates, and family pictures.

  Dr. Hunt won’t be here when I come back! The next H-R director might not remember me so fondly.

  I swallowed. Replayed the video of Zoe’s life-saving cry on the big screen in my head. I’m okay. I’m okay.

  “Jerry Ringhauser called ahead. I’d like to hear straight from the horse’s mouth, though. What brings you here?” She laced her fingers and leaned forward.

  “I’m going to take some time off to be with my baby,” I said.

  She nodded. “Good idea. I had three of my own. I hope to be able to do with my grandkids what I couldn’t do with mine.”

  The sadness in her eyes dissipated the lump in my throat. I didn’t want to wait until the next generation to enjoy my offspring.

  “I’m sure your grandchildren will love having you around.”

  “Yes, yes. And when do you plan to return?”

  “Um…I guess late spring, maybe? Or next fall?”

  Dr. Hunt laughed. She cut her eyes at me and shook her head. “I’ll make note of it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you changed your mind and stayed home longer. Babies have a way of rearranging plans. You thinking about having another one?”

  “Oh, noooooo,” I quickly denied.

  Dr. Hunt laughed. “That’s what we said after the second one. Things happen.”

  No, ma’am.

  I completed the necessary forms and signed my name on the dotted line, so to speak. Dr. Hunt assured me that I wasn’t the first person to leave with no notice. “It may be better for them to start the year off without you. The new person won’t have to compete with your legacy. Start off fresh, you know?”

  “Got it.”

  Dr. Hunt pushed off the table as she stood. “Well, Mrs. Brown, if I don’t see you anymore before I get out of here, it’s been a pleasure.”

  “Same here.”

  I walked back to my car thinking, That wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I guess I thought they were going to bring me before a judge or something. Rake me over the coals. Maybe Peaches was right—nobody wanted me there if I didn’t want to be there.

  My current predicament would make me think twice about holding on to teachers who were ready to resign.

  I was planning to make the news of my leave a surprise for Stelson, so I hadn’t texted him. Instead, I cut a path across town to meet him for lunch. There was always the possibility that he wouldn’t be available or even present in the office, but I took my chances.

  Brown-Cooper Engineering occupied a good portion of the third floor of the Chase bank building. Stelson’s office, of course, boasted breathtaking views of the surrounding hills. Too bad I rarely got to see them, with my head buried in my own world.

  Not today.

  “Hi, LaShondra! How are you?” Stelson’s administrative assistant, Helen, asked.

  “I’m great. You?”

  “Great.”

  Sometimes, I felt like I talked to Helen more than Stelson. We fell into an easy hug. Her shampoo had to be straight up Prell. Old school all the way, with her polyester flower-print dress. I’m not trying to be funny, but she was precisely the kind of drama-free, wholesome, great-aunt-lookin’ secretary I wanted around my sexy husband.

  She flounced down in her chair again. “Stelson didn’t tell me you were coming by today.”

  “Oh, he didn’t know. I won’t be long. Just wanted to chat with him for a second. Is he available?”

  “I believe so.” She pressed the red conference button on the phone. “Stelson, your wife is here to see you.”

  Seconds later, Stelson rushed out of his office. “Is everything okay?”

  I scrunched my face. “Yes. Everything’s fine.”

  His shoulders fell an inch. “Okay. Come on in.”

  “I’m going to lunch,” Helen told him. “Take care, LaShondra.”

  “You, too.”

  She grabbed her fanny pack and left.

  Stelson led me into his office. The green trees and clear sky peeking through the vertical blinds gave me an appreciation for God’s handiwork. If only I’d had this landscape to gaze upon every now and then, my job would have been easier to bear.

  The spacious room housed his desk, a full couch, a conference table for eight, and a wall full of plaques and certificates attesting to the company’s excellence.

  Stelson shut the door behind us. “What’s up?”

  I twirled to face him. “I did it.”

  “Did what?”

  “Took a leave of absence.”

  The residue of anxiety drained from his countenance, replaced by a full grin as the corners of his eyes softened and lifted. He snatched me into an embrace and kissed my forehead. My cheeks. Finally, my lips. “Thank you.”

  I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the Zoe incident. Frankly, I was too embarrassed. I wished I hadn’t told Jerry, either.

  “You’re welcome, baby.”

  He tilted my chin up with an index finger, kissing me more deeply than before. A surge of fire ran from my head to my feet and back up again. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d kissed. Really kissed.

  “I’ve got a present for you.” His warm breath swept my nose.

  “A present? How’d you know I was going to quit my job today?”

  He walked to the office door and pressed a gold button to lock it. “I didn’t. I just knew that whenever, wherever my prayer was answered, I’d have a special thank you ready.”

  I squinted. “A thank-you gift?”

  He twisted the plastic rod that closed the blinds. “Yep.”

  I whispered, “Stelson, what are you doing?” though I already knew the answer. Somewhere in the hustle and bustle of becoming a new mom, I’d forgotten how marvelously spontaneous my husband could be.

  “I’m preparing to give you a big thank you.” He loosened his tie. Threw it on his laptop.

  My eyes popped open wide, looking around the office. “Here?”

  “Yep. Wouldn’t be the first time. Remember?” Stelson said as he started on my neck.

  “But we haven’t done it here in a very long time,” I croaked.

  “Unfortunately.”

  I dropped my purse. Hopped up and wrapped my thighs around his waist as he lifted me. I could only hope that the conference table would hold as sturdy as it had before I’d gained twenty pounds carrying two kids.

  He set me on the surface, teased my lips with his tongue as we both scrambled to remove only the necessary clothing.

  He stopped. Put a finger on my mouth. “No screaming.”

  I giggled. “Same goes for you.”

  Chapter 8

  Benefit #1: mo’ sex. Benefit #2: better sex. Benefit #3: #1 and #2. We hadn’t quite figured out exactly how we were going to reorganize the family budget, but intimate time with Stelson definitely added to the bottom line that first week I was home from work.

  Once we’d finished with the kids’ baths in the evenings, you would have thought we were newlyweds who had just recently discovered God’s bonus perk to being married.

  We finally came up for air on the weekend. Stelson served me breakfast in bed that Saturday morning.

  “Where’s Mommy?” I overheard Seth asking my husband in the kitchen.

  “She’s resting.”

  “Resting?” Seth asked as
though it weren’t humanly possible.

  “Yes. She’s resting in bed.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “Yes, when she’s ready.”

  Since Zoe was only good for about twenty minutes in her swing and Seth wasn’t the type to sit in front of a television without finding some other way to entertain himself, I scarfed down the toaster waffles, turkey sausage and orange juice.

  Plus, I wanted to see my babies. I couldn’t have Seth feeling I’d all but abandoned him.

  As I showered, washed my hair, and blow-dried my straight, brown mane, I wondered how my appearance would change with thick, curly coils like Peaches’ hair. I pulled my bangs back and took inventory of my forehead. Head-on, it was fine. But the profile. Nuh-uh. Too big. Besides, people said natural hair was way more work than permed hair. The whole point of me leaving my job was to gain more time, not reallocate it to caring for my hair.

  My little ones both squealed when I joined the family in the living area. “Hi, Mommy!” Seth threw his arms around my neck.

  “Hey, Seth!”

  Still a bit protective of my toe, I tucked it safely underneath the rim of the couch.

  “Daddy said you were resting. Are you sick?”

  “No. I’m feeling great.”

  “Then why were you resting?” His long eyelashes fluttered as he questioned me.

  “Can’t mommies rest?”

  “No,” he insisted.

  “Well, this mommy does.” I tickled his stomach.

  He backed away, laughing.

  I hoisted Zoe from her swing and smooched on her neck until she burst into gurgling giggles. I cradled her in my arms as I joined Stelson and Seth on the couch again.

  And there we were: the picture-perfect all-American family. Dad, mom, and son, and a baby daughter. All we needed was a dog, which Stelson and I had both agreed wasn’t going to happen until Seth was old enough to assume the responsibility.

  “Who wants to go to a movie?” Stelson asked, though he must have already known the suggestion alone would drive our son bonkers.

  “Me! Me! Me!” Seth jumped, raising his hand in the air.

  “Okay. Let’s make it happen.”

  The theater hadn’t been on my agenda, but how could I resist all this delicious family time? This was my new identity, right? No longer super-every-woman. I could whittle it down to super-wife and super-mom.

  With the promise of movie plans, Seth hopped on his Saturday chores—straightening up his bedroom and picking up trash in the back yard—while Stelson and I had our monthly budget meeting at the kitchen table while keeping an eye on our son.

  My husband presented a Dave Ramsey disciple, a spreadsheet with color-coded categories and clearly labeled dollar amounts. Most of the time, I came to the budget meetings and simply listened. Really, I didn’t care what Stelson did with the money in our joint account so long as the bills got paid and money was both given and saved.

  The only account I watched like a hawk was my personal account, which was separate from what I put in the family pot. Stelson didn’t mess with my personal account. I didn’t mess with his, either. We could both view each other’s account activity online, but I had learned early on not to even click on his links if I didn’t want to get upset about how much he’d spent on a pair of cufflinks.

  “So,” he started, “in order to stay on track with the kids’ college funds and our retirement accounts, looks like we’re going to need to renegotiate some of our existing contracts and cut back on several non-essentials.”

  “Like what?” His definition of non-essential was usually different from mine.

  “First, the cell phones. With you working at home, your data plan can be reduced because you’ll have your phone tapped into the house’s Wi-fi.”

  Made sense. “Okay.”

  “I estimate lower gas expenses as well.”

  “True,” I said as I continued perusing the charts. “Wait. Zoe’s daycare.”

  “What about it?”

  “I wanted to keep her in two days a week.”

  He shrugged. “Why would we pay for daycare when you’ll be home?”

  “So I can get stuff done around here,” I said.

  He sat back in his chair. “Ummm…I’m not following you.”

  “I need some transition time.”

  “For what?”

  “So I can get the hang of being a stay-at-homer. I want to practice doing it the easy way first.”

  “Why would you practice the easy way when you’ll be doing it the hard way in the future?”

  I couldn’t think of a good comeback.

  “I’m not saying no,” he clarified, “I’m saying it doesn’t make sense to me.”

  Now that he’d destroyed my whole practice-easy theory, it didn’t make sense to me, either. If this was the way he dealt with contractors, I felt sorry for them. My husband didn’t play when it came to numbers.

  He shrugged, “If you want to pay out of your personal account, knock yourself out.”

  Not gonna happen. “You’re right.”

  The clothing budget had shrunk along with the car insurance. Both were highlighted in green. “What’s the deal with these?”

  “Seth wears uniforms and you’re working from home now. Clothing expenses, dry cleaning should go down, right?”

  I breathed out. “I suppose.” Now, my eyes were scanning for a decrease in any category related to him. Nothing.

  “What about this digital TV bill? Must we have so many channels?”

  “No. If you can get us a better deal, let’s do it.”

  “What about my mad money?” I asked.

  “Mad money?”

  “Yeah. Money that I can just blow on whatever.”

  “Don’t you have some money in your personal account?”

  “Yeah,” I concurred peacefully, “but it’s not going to last forever.”

  Stelson laid his paper flat on the table. He took my paper and repeated the action. “What’s on your mind, Shondra?”

  I sighed and told my husband the truth. “I feel like I’m losing my independence.”

  “Welcome to the club.”

  “What club? You’re not in the club. You’re still working, still bringing in a paycheck.”

  “Babe, Cooper and I realized a long time ago that every penny that comes into our business came from the hand of God Himself. We all depend on Him.”

  “Well, I mean, yeah,” I agreed, “I know He takes care of us. But I don’t like the idea of me having to justify everything, explain every single purchase. It would make me feel like a child. Not a child of God, a child of you.”

  My husband poked out his lips and, immediately, I realized I’d hurt his feelings. “I’m sorry. That came out the wrong way.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Of course I do,” I replied. “Stelson, this is not about you. It’s about me.”

  “No. It’s about us. We’re a team. We need you on board.”

  Staring into his blue, sincere eyes, I surrendered. “You know I can’t resist you, right?”

  He stole a kiss. “Big Daddy’s still got it.”

  I smacked his arm. “No you didn’t!”

  We tweaked the grocery budget and added a few back-to-school expenses to the bottom line. Stelson adjourned the meeting in prayer and we were off to the movies.

  My husband let Zoe and me out at the ticket booth while he and Seth found a parking spot. After the restroom and diaper-change run, we got our popcorn and drinks. Seth begged to visit the arcade. When he whined at my ‘no’, Stelson told him if he didn’t stop crying, we’d give his ticket to a grateful child.

  Seth straightened up.

  We found three seats in a row smack dab in the middle of the theater. I hoped Zoe would sit still through the entire show, but she ran out of patience about a third of the way through.

  I took her out and gave her a bottle, which ended her fussing and sent her off to dreamland.

  By th
at point, I’d missed the most important part of the movie, apparently, because two cats who couldn’t stand each other had become best friends.

  I squirmed back to my seat. Stelson held out his arms for Zoe, so I passed her off and straightened out my shirt again.

  I scrunched down and asked Seth, “What did I miss?”

  “They had a fight and Pumpkin won but he didn’t really want to hurt Stripes real bad so then they liked each other,” he gave me the run down.

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Ten minutes later, Seth’s foot began bouncing on the edge of his seat. I already knew what was coming next.

  “Mommy, I gotta go use it.”

  Since Zoe was snuggled up with Stelson, I grabbed Seth’s hand and apologized profusely for making a third trip past fellow movie-watchers.

  We made a trip to the women’s restroom, where the atmosphere alone caused me to have to go, too.

  “Wait for me when you get finished, Seth,” I instructed him since his stall was two doors down from mine.

  I heard him flush and listened to his feet pounce away. I assumed he had taken it upon himself to wash his hands, which would be a sloppy wet mess probably, but I was learning from Peaches: Making messes is what boys do best.

  I finished my business and stepped outside of my stall, expecting to see my son.

  But he was nowhere in sight.

  “Seth?”

  No answer.

  I asked the lady at the hand dryer if she’d seen a little boy leave.

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

  A quick inspection of the feet under the stalls yielded no sign of his green Toms boat shoes.

  “Seth?”

  I doused my hands in water and left the restroom, my heartbeat quickened at thoughts I didn’t want to consider.

  Outside the restroom, I visually searched the main lobby, sidestepping through the popcorn lines. No sign of my child. I could feel the blood rushing through my veins. God, where is my baby?

  Quickly, I ticked off the other options: Maybe he went back into the theater. Or outside. But why would he go outside unless somebody…

  A loud ringing sound caught my attention. The arcade.

  I ran to the carpeted area and pushed past a horde of teenagers. Sure enough, there was Seth sitting in a racecar pretending to drive.