Blackness Takes Over & Blackness Awaits

by Karlsson, Norma Jeanne

  “I’m HOME!” I shout into the house. I notice Finn isn’t with me and look outside, his car is gone. Huh? He must have gone home to get ready, I shrug. I walk into the great room and find the usual suspects still watching ball and still on the couch. I grab a couple slices, some iced tea and join them.

  “How’s Mia, Kid?” Cally asks.

  “Infection’s gone. Goal TENDING,” I scream the last part at the TV. “What club are you jackasses draggin’ me to tonight?” I realize this has yet to be discussed today.

  “Bar,” Sully explains. “It’s a new place in the Power and Light District. It’s supposed to be good. I got us bottle service.” Bottle service means no line, so I’m pleased with that revelation. I finish my pizza and take my dishes to the dishwasher.

  “Well I better go slut it up if we’re hittin’ a new spot,” I announce. “Never know, my future ex might be there.” I turn and head up the stairs.

  “No fights tonight, Kid,” Kavy yells up at me. I know what he means. He’s telling me not to look too good so I don’t get mauled by some handsy lush causing all of us to get into a brawl. That has happened before, a time or two, or more, I’ve lost track. After Kavy’s shit this afternoon combined with Finn’s mental lapse, I’m thinking about going all out. Not to fuck with them, but to show them that I’m not theirs. I love them, but I belong to me and no one else. I don’t respond to Kavy, but I do lock my door so I can get ready in peace.

  I crank up some ’90s top 40s and walk into my dressing room. I grabbed this dress a few weeks ago at a boutique on the Plaza that I think might be perfect. As “Whoomp! (There it is)” blares through the speakers I unzip the garment bag, and pull out the dress. Ahhh yeahhh! Perfection. This dress is to die for. Let me start by saying I don’t really do dresses. I think the last time I wore an actual dress was graduation from Stanford. I rarely will wear a skirt suit to the office. I don’t like skirts or dresses. You can’t move in them, I’m always afraid I’m going to give a free show to someone somehow. Also, I need to wear heels which make me even taller, and I tend to bring a lot of attention (usually unwanted) when I expose my legs. Tonight I’m abandoning my dislike of dresses and heels to embrace my girlytude. At least that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

  This dress is off the charts. It’s a good one to choose if I’m only going to do this twice a decade. It’s black lace; delicate soft lace, not trashy doily lace, with a nude underlay. It hugs my curves to a T. The neckline scoops down just to the top of my bust, barely showing any cleavage. The straps are wide and the back comes up to the base of my neck. There’s a cutout in the back between my shoulder blades that the lace flows around flawlessly. It’s really short, only hitting me mid-thigh if that. From far away you can’t tell there’s an underlay leading to the illusion of my being nude beneath. I’ll look totally fuckable, if I do say so myself. Next, shoes. Uhhhh.

  I’m tall and have big feet (11s sometimes 12s) so shoes are always an issue. Teaching me to walk in heels wasn’t exactly on Uncle Mick’s list of priorities when raising me. I have taught myself as an adult and can even run in four inch heels now if needed. I’m still not a fan and rarely wear anything over an inch or two. But this dress requires serious shoes, shoes that are named-by-their-designer kind of shoes. Thank God models are tall so designers make clown sized shoes. I have just the pair for this occasion, my Jimmy Choo Lang Sandals. They make my foot look like it’s dripping in bronzed silk. The four inch heel is going to put me up near Kavy’s height which I hate, because it cancels out dance partners for the evening. What is it with men and taller women?

  Strapless bra and barely there thong on, I grab my silk robe and head to the bathroom to get this process started. I’ve already deduced that walking downstairs in my outfit is not going to work. Sully will purposely spill a drink or two on me to stop me from exiting the house. I could put a coat over it and not remove it until we’re at Flannery’s but my shoes will give it away if they notice…and they will notice. The best option is to meet them there; once we’re already out they won’t/can’t do anything about it. How do I keep from leaving with them? I drag ass. They won’t want to be late to the pub, so I’ll move “slowly” and take a cab to meet them. Good plan Kid!

  I hear my door handle jiggle just as I concoct my perfect plan. They want to leave in fifteen minutes, I’m sure. I could be ready in that amount of time but I’m not letting them in on that. Now the handle jiggler is banging on my door like the police. I never lock my door unless I have company, if you catch my drift.

  “Yeah,” I sing song yell.

  “Kid, why the fuck is your door locked? You and B.O.B. havin’ a date?” Sully yells through the door. I’m up and at the door in record time. I fling it open and glare at my agitator. He’s staring at my tits…which are now fully exposed in my bra as my robe fell open in my pace to confront him.

  “Eyes up, O’Sullivan,” I snarl. “I have the door locked because all of you seem to have a goddamn screw loose today and I wanted to get ready in peace. If I wanted to rub one out I have two hands that do a better job than anything with batteries could even begin to offer.” I wiggle my fingers in his face. “Now if you will kindly fuck off, I can finish gettin’ ready so I can go attempt to meet some normal human beings since my boys have obviously all gotten lobotomies in the last twenty-four hours.” I’m dripping with sarcasm. “I’m not gonna ride with you all anyway. As you can see,” I motion to my state of undress, “I won’t be ready when you all head out. I’ll cab it and meet you there.” Now the rest of my entourage (including Finn) is topping the stairs. All eyes on the girls. You’d think they had never seen me in a bra. I pull my robe together and tie the sash tightly in dramatic fashion. Kavy’s eyes pop up to mine first.

  “She’s not goin’ with us,” Sully says over his shoulder, suspiciously to the guys.

  “Why not?” Finn asks incredulously. My eyes roll so far back they could get stuck. I want my normal guys back!!

  “She’s not ready yet,” Sully motions at me like I had to him earlier.

  “Go throw on your pants and a sweater real quick Kid, we’ll wait for ya,” Cally says brightly. He’s always the sweet one trying to help. If we were just going to Flannery’s like usual that would be a fine suggestion, but that’s not what we’re doing. I can’t say that though or they’re going to get more suspicious. All this work for a thirty-year-old woman to go out looking good is fucking ridiculous!

  “I need to put on my face and deal with my hair boys. I need more than ten minutes,” I’ve been able to waste five talking to these jackholes. “I’ll just cab it and then ride with you the rest of the night, ’kay?”

  “I got a driver tonight, Kid,” Kavy tells me. “No one wanted to DD. I’ll send the car back for you.” That was an order, not a suggestion. No cab for me.

  “One of us can hang back with you, if you want.” Sweet Cally.

  “No, you all go ahead. I’ll be right behind you. Get my drink for me and sign us up for the quiz. I’ll be there before we start, promise.” I give them my panty dropping smile. They bought it. Shrugs and nods all around the group. They all turn to go down and leave, Finn hangs around. Will it ever end today?!

  “I just wanted a quick word, Kid.” He grins sheepishly. He looks yummy. His blond hair is slicked to the side and his blue eyes are all sparkly. He’s got on perfect dark wash jeans that glide over his thighs and crest his dress shoes impeccably. On top is a crisp textured light blue button down, top two buttons open, covered with a grey blazer. His shoulders are wide, his chest is framed like a painting, his waist is slim and I know the man V is lurking just above it. Tasty. Oh yeah he wants to talk to me. I’m just as big a perv as the boys…nice.

  “What’s up?” I ask nonchalantly.

  “I’m sorry about earlier. Not just here, but also in the car. I’m havin’ an off day and takin’ it out on you.” His eyes show remorse. He feels like a dick. That’s good enough for me.

  “No problem, Finn. It
happens even to perfect people like me,” I say to lighten the mood. He laughs and wraps his arms around my shoulders. I grab around his waist and give him a squeeze and a sniff, yum. He’ll get laid tonight, I’ll find him someone.

  “See ya in a bit,” he says before he turns and leaves. That feels a million times more normal. There’s hope!

  I head back to the bathroom and get the show on the road. Tonight is a smoky eye night if there ever was one. I don’t do girly but my one caveat is makeup. I’ve always loved makeup. One thing to credit my mother with I suppose. I have large almond eyes and can wear pretty much any style of makeup I decide on, it’s a luxury I appreciate. I pull out my MAC palette and get to it. Once I’ve smoked up the eyes the rest of my face is low key, bronzy blush and a nude shiny lip.

  My hair has to go up. Dancing in a hot sweaty club with my hair halfway down my back is not pretty. I pull it up into a loose bun type something. I don’t know what to call it, but it looks good and like I intended for it to happen this way (I didn’t). Now, dress and shoes and I’m outta here.

  No panty lines. Check. No deodorant on dress. Check. Legs lotioned and smooth. Check. Clutch with cash, card, ID, lips, phone and gun. Check. I’m good to go and the car is waiting in the driveway. I forgo a coat, because if I have one Kavy will make me wear it all night. I’ll get dropped off at the curb, so I won’t freeze but for a moment. All right, I’m out the door.

  “Miss Kelly,” the driver, an older gentleman with grey hair and kind eyes nods and opens the back door of the SUV for me. I smile and climb in as elegantly as possible, so as not to cause this guy a heart attack. Success!

  He climbs in the driver’s seat and glances in the rearview mirror at me.

  “Would you like me to turn the heat up Miss Kelly? It’s chilly out there tonight.” He’s genuine and sweet…I like him.

  “Shannon, please. Mister?”

  “Carmichael, but please call me Rodger.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rodger, a little more heat would be great,” I smile at him. I’m getting his card so he can drive me around more often. It’s like having Uncle Mick drive me around. The thought makes me grin.

  We ride in comfortable silence. The closer we get to the pub the more excited I’m getting. I should be nervous, but I don’t panic so I don’t really do nervous either. I can’t wait to see their faces. I wish I could film this…it’s going to be epic. Rodger pulls up in front of Flannery’s and hops out to escort me from the SUV. He stands just in front of me and takes my hands shielding me from any mishaps. I love Rodger. I thank him and hurry to the door. Cian the doorman and owner’s son takes one look at me and stumbles. I realize he doesn’t recognize me though, he’s stumbling at the hotness. I glow internally. He pushes the door open to let me in and I breeze by him avoiding eye contact, so he doesn’t figure out that he spends two evenings a week with me in jeans and a T-shirt talking sports.

  The pub is packed. It’s a classic pub, wood everywhere and walls covered in various Irish sporting memorabilia. The bar is just to the left when you walk in and the tables are to the right. Pool and darts at the back, with a stage beyond the tables. It’s a pub. I walk over to the bar where Johnny and Jack are tending. Jack owns the place and Johnny is his oldest son. Jack notices me first and does a double take. He recognizes me and smiles from ear to ear. I return the gesture.

  “Shannon, you look stunnin’,” he coos at me in his broad Irish accent.

  “Thanks, Jack. Where are my boys?” He hands me my usual Long Island Iced Tea and I go to open my clutch to pay. He smacks the air at my gesture.

  “S’on me, Love. Boys er jus o’er dare.” He nods behind me and winks. I nod a thank you, and make my way toward them. They’re all huddled together, no doubt strategizing for the quiz. They all have on versions of Finn’s outfit, yet they all look a bit different with a variation in shirt or jacket color. I’m a lucky girl to spend time in their company. I smile as I cross the room. I’m being stared at by every male in here and some of the women too. I move through the room like I don’t notice or hear the silence that is following the stares. I get to the table unnoticed by my boys and come up behind Kavy’s back.

  “Is this seat taken gentleman?” I ask seductively. They don’t look up.

  “Sit down, Kid,” Sully says, still staring at the quiz sheet in front of them. Okay this is going to take some effort.

  “Kavy, can you move your chair over so I can slide in?” I ask coyly. He pushes back and stands up to move his chair. His eyes start at my feet and move swiftly up my body and stop on my eyes. I smile at him my panty dropping smile. It doesn’t work on his panties, but it works on his beer. Score: one Kid, boys zero!

  “What the FUCK, Kavanagh?!” Sully yells. They’re all moving back from the table to avoid the spill and save their phones. A domino effect of eyes hit me, starting with Cally, Sully, and ending with Finn. No one is saying a word. I keep my smile plastered to my face like a beauty queen. Matthew, Jack’s youngest son, comes running to clean up the spill. He’s eighteen and has no filter.

  “Holy fuckin’ shit, Shannon.” His jaw is on the floor. “Will you please go out with me? Marry me? Let me smell your hair? Anything?” I let out a huge chortle at that.

  “Call me when you graduate high school Matty and we’ll see about the hair sniffing,” I gleam at him. He cleans up the spilled pint of beer and pulls out my chair for me to sit down. This high schooler has better manners than my boys. I sit down again carefully, Matty is more at risk for a heart attack than Rodger at this point. My boys are still staring, not moving, jaws on the floor. Matty brings over new quiz sheets which I take. Okay the weirdness is getting to me now.

  “Scoop your jaws off the floor and sit down boys.” I don’t look up at them from the quiz. “People are starting to talk about you.” I did just hear a guy ask how he could be on our team, that’s kind of talking about them.

  “Uhhhhaaa,” a laugh breath bursts out of Cally’s mouth. “Spank bank full to the mothafucking brim, Kid.” He rips his seat back, plops down, slams his pint, jumps back up, and heads over to the bar. I snicker.

  “Kid, are you trying to get me killed?” Kavy sneers, as he takes his seat next to me.

  “No shit! Where the fuck did that dress come from and where’s the rest?” Sully adds to the inquisition.

  “Dress? I thought she had on a shirt and forgot her goddamn pants!” Finn finishes the diatribe.

  I look up at them, a sly smile pulling at my lips.

  “I’ve seen each and every one of you bring home, fuck, and dismiss girls wearing a quarter of what I am. Don’t you dare try to give me shit or I’ll get goin’ on each of you. I’ll win.” I glower at each of them. “And no Kavy, I’m not trying to start shit. I wanted to dress up to go to the club, so I did. I can take care of myself.” I pat my clutch knowingly. “I plan on having a really good night. If you four,” Cally just sat back down, “can’t handle a fun evening then go fuck yourselves. I’ll go out with Matty.” Matty hears me, puts his hands in a prayer position and mouths “please” at me.

  “All right, Kid,” Kavy concedes. “We’re sorry and outta line. Let’s win this quiz and go watch you shake your money maker. In that dress you’re gonna be makin’ it rain at the club.” There’s the Kavy I know and love, smiling my smile at me.

  “Uh, last I checked I’m not a peeler.” I nod at Sully. “That’s more Sully’s game.”

  “Don’t hate on me, Kid.” Sully smiles a Cheshire grin at me. “You know you like my skills.” I do indeed. Stripping had become a good money maker for him when we were at Stanford. I got to be his guinea pig when he practiced. Talk about spank bank filling.

  “You look gorgeous, Miss Kelly,” Finn coos at me. “We’re lucky to be seen with you tonight.”

  “Here, here,” Cally pipes in, “let’s drink to that.” We grab our glasses. “To the best arm candy a man could hope for. To Kid,” Cally chants.

  “To Kid,” they howl in unison
and we all touch glasses. We all drink just as a hand appears on my shoulder. I look over my shoulder at a hard six maybe eight pack stomach covered by a beautiful bright blue soft cotton shirt and a charcoal jacket. My eyes scan up and stumble at man boobs that have been expertly sculpted. Attached to this unbelievable torso is a face to make all other faces look like puppy chow: angular jaw clean shaven, soft pillow pouty lips, straight nose, perfectly styled over to the side hair, and teal eyes. Kellerman.

  “Kel,” I breathe and push my chair back to stand and greet him, “you made it.” No shit Sherlock, he’s standing in front of you.

  “Your boy, Finn, convinced me.” He nods in Finn’s direction. His eyes haven’t left mine, not even now that I’m standing. Check the dress dude, it’s good. Nope just eye contact. This is getting awkward and I don’t know what to do. I break the eye contact and start the introductions.

  “Dylan Kellerman, this is Aaron Kavanagh.” I indicate with my hand as I go around the table. “Ryan Callaghan, Brian O’Sullivan, and of course you’ve met Finn. Boys this is Dylan Kellerman, Mr. Kellerman’s son.” He’s getting sized up. He doesn’t seem to give a shit either. This man is impenetrable. Okay time to fill the silence.

  “They all go by their last names like you,” I smile at him. “You’ll fit in just fine.”

  Finn, thank God, stands up and shakes Kel’s hand and pulls up a chair next to him (not next to me, pout). “Have a seat, man. Glad you decided to come.” He’s being nice to Kel. Weird…but nice.

  “Thanks for invitin’ me.” He walks over to the provided chair and sits down with his pint. Finn holds my chair for me to sit back down, but I need a drink so I wave him off.

  I point to my glass, “Round two.” I’m leaving Kel with the wolves, but that’s how it has to be. If he’s there when I get back, he’s got what it takes. It’s the best test I can put a guy through, not that I usually get a choice in the matter of said test. I turn on my heel and head to the bar. Cian is inside and spots me again, this time recognizing me.