Paxton's Peace

by Bailey West

  “There were some poor areas in South Africa, but there are also some very rich areas. I didn’t see any of those little ‘Save the Children’ kids, but a lot is going on there.”

  “Yeah, the documentary talked about the differences in the class structure among Black Africans and White Africans. I thought it was so interesting to see how the end of apartheid has affected both groups of people.”

  “You like documentaries?”

  “Yes, I do. I love learning about interesting things. The documentary I watched talked about the white Africans who struggle to find work due to affirmative action.”

  “I saw something about that on a documentary that I watched too. It showed some white Africans living in a park due to poverty.”

  “That’s so interesting. What about the military? What branch were you in? Did you like it?”

  “I was in the Army. I enjoyed it for a while. When it was time to get out, I was ready. I got out and went to college.”

  “Did you go to any of the active conflict areas?”

  “Yes, I went to all the conflict areas, Iraq, Afghanistan, West Pakistan and places that most people don’t even know about.”

  “Why did you have to go to so many bad places?”

  “It was my job. They told me to go, so I went.”

  “Were you afraid?”

  “I wouldn’t use afraid, but I was very cautious and aware at all times.”

  “I’m glad you made it back safely.”

  “I’m grateful I did too.”

  “You didn’t tell me about your day.”

  “I picked BJ up from school, and we had a bachelor day. We lounged around, ate pizza, smelled our armpits and watched action movies.”

  “Which movies did you watch?”

  “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.”

  She laughed, “Sounds like fun. I don’t know about the armpit smelling part.”

  “That’s what guys do when we have sleepovers. You didn’t know that?”

  “No, I didn’t know that,” she laughed. “Where is BJ now?”

  “He’s asleep. On the days that I pick him up, he usually spends the night with me to give his mom a break. Roman and Zanetta do the same thing.”

  “Wow, that is so nice. I love the way everyone pitches in to help. He’s a lucky kid.”

  “We are the lucky ones. He’s such a smart kid. He brings a lot of joy to our lives. Today he told me that math was the nickname for mathematics, and then went on to give me the definition of addition and subtraction.”

  She laughed.

  “Will he be joining us tomorrow for dinner?”

  “No, I will take him home in the morning. He doesn’t like being away from his mom too long. She’s expecting, and he feels like he needs to be around to help.”

  “Congratulations. You are going to be an uncle again.”

  “Yeah, we are all very excited about it.”

  “So, I will see you tomorrow at six, correct?”

  “I will be there. Do I need to bring anything?”

  “No, just your appetite.”

  “I always have that.”

  “See you tomorrow. Good night, Paxton.”

  “Sleep sweetly, Olivia.”

  Olivia

  “Hi Zanetta, this is Olivia. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

  After changing my mind at least ten times, I’d decided to call Zanetta.

  “Hi, Olivia. No, I’m not busy. Just cleaning up after breakfast. How are you? Is everything okay?”

  “I’m fine. Thanks for asking. I need to ask you something. Please let me know if this is inappropriate and I will totally understand.”

  “Okay…”

  I took a deep breath and said, “I, um…I invited Paxton to dinner, and I was wondering if you could give me some suggestion on dishes that he likes.”

  “Wait, what? My brother Paxton? I mean of course my brother Paxton…you asked him?”

  “Yes. We’ve been to dinner a couple times, and I told him the next time we went I wanted to treat.”

  “He said no to you paying, didn’t he?” she laughed.

  “Yes, he said no, so I said I would cook, and he agreed. Now I don’t know what to prepare.”

  “His menacing demeanor didn’t scare you away?”

  “I never noticed his mean scowl until yesterday. He was here at my house while a crew of repairmen were doing some work. He scared them pretty bad, and he didn’t really say anything.”

  We both laughed.

  “That’s my brother. So, is this a friendly dinner or more than friendly…wait, you don’t have to answer that.”

  “No, it’s fine. I think he is amazing. I mean what I know of him so far.”

  “He is amazing. He’s an open book so what you see is basically what you get.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  “Okay, so you need dinner ideas, right?”

  “Right,” I replied as I picked up an ink pen and a piece of paper.

  “Paxton is not hard to please. He eats a lot but, if you’ve been to dinner with him, you already know that.”

  “Yeah,” I laughed. I was relieved that Zanetta was willing to help me. I’d sat up nearly half the night trying to decide what I wanted to make for dinner. It felt a little awkward calling Zanetta since she is his sister and my boss’ wife, but since the conversation has started, she’s made me feel comfortable with my decision to call.

  “Anything that you cook, he will eat. I’ve never seen him refuse to eat something.”

  “I was thinking about putting something on the grill.”

  “Now, if you want him to ask you to marry him, then grill him something. He loves anything grilled.”

  “Okay,” I laughed. “I got it. Is he allergic to anything?”

  “No, not that I know of and I have cooked him all sorts of things.”

  “What about dessert?”

  “All Bluette men have a thing for ice cream. They love it. Any ice cream dessert will make his day.”

  “Any particular flavor?” I asked as I started jotting down my grocery list.

  “Nope. He will eat them all.”

  “Okay, I think I have a game plan. Thank you Zanetta. Thank you for not making this awkward.”

  “Girl, please. I wish I would have been able to phone a friend when I first met my husband. I was just like you trying to figure out what he liked and didn’t like. It all worked out though. Good luck, have fun. Let me know how it goes.”

  “Thanks, Zanetta, I will.”

  I finished my grocery list then got dressed and went to the open-air market. I found everything I needed to include the perfect dessert option. I arrived back at my house a couple hours later and started prepping my food. My phone rang. I grabbed it and answered it without looking at the number. I rested it on my shoulder so I could continue my prep.

  “Hello, this is Olivia Callahan.”

  “Callahan?” I recognized his voice immediately causing a wave of nausea to wash over me. I put down my knife and pulled the phone from my ear to look at the number. I put it back to my ear in enough time to hear, “you are a hard woman to catch up with, Miss Callahan.”

  He said Callahan like it was a dirty word. I took a deep breath but still didn’t respond. “You don’t want to talk to me, sweetheart? Your first love, your first everything?”

  “I’m busy, Mason. How did you get my number and why are you calling me?” I worked very hard to control the tone of my voice. I didn’t want to sound like I was shook, despite the visible shaking of my hands.

  “I’m calling you because I want you back. I miss you Livi.”

  Olivia, this part of your life is over. This man has no more control over your life. You took your power back. Don’t let him take you back to that place of fear. You control everything around you.

  “Mason, I haven’t heard from you since the divorce. Why are you calling me now?”

  “I just said I miss you.”

  “Is ther
e something that you have to say that makes sense, because this conversation is a complete waste of my time.”

  “Okay, how about this. I’m going to get my wife back.”

  “Where is she?”

  “She’s in Houston.”

  I never told him that I lived in Houston. He could have only gotten that information from one person.

  “Oh, do you have a wife here?”

  I switched the phone from one shoulder to the other one.

  “Come on Livi, I’m talking about you. You know that you are the only woman for me. I’ve given this a lot of thought. I feel like with a little bit of counseling and time, we can make this work. Let’s have that family that we talked about, huh? Remember we wanted a boy and a girl? We were going to name the boy after me, and the girl’s name would start with an O, like your name?”

  “That’s not quite how that conversation went. You said you wanted your son to be a junior. When I said the girl could have an O name like me, you said there are no pretty names that begin with O to include Olivia.” I thought I always wanted a family with Mason, but after he made me lose my baby, I knew that I never wanted to procreate with him. Once he dies, that should be the last of his kind. “But I was pregnant, remember?”

  He was quiet for a minute. I held the phone closer to my ear, checking to see if he was still there.

  “Why are you bringing up things from the past? I want a fresh start. Come on. I know you still want that with me.”

  “Mason, like I said before you went on this happily ever after rant, I’m busy. I don’t have anything to discuss with you, ever. Please, lose my number and forget my name. You have no reason to contact me.”

  I disconnected the call, and my phone rang again immediately. I answered it knowing it was Mason being his same old persistent self.

  “WHAT DO YOU WANT!”

  “Olivia?”

  “Pax…Paxton? I’m sorry! I thought you were someone else.”

  “Someone like who?”

  “My ex-husband. He just called, and I hung up on him. I thought you were him calling back. I haven’t heard from him since the divorce. I’ve never given him my phone number or told him where I live.”

  “How did he get your information?”

  “Most likely my mother.”

  I sat down, closed my eyes and touched my finger to my temple.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” I looked down at my hands. They weren’t shaking as hard as they were but they were still shaking. “I didn’t think that he still could ruin my mood, but apparently, he does. Ugh…anyway, I’m sorry for yelling. You are not calling to cancel, are you?”

  “Absolutely not, I was calling to make sure you didn’t need me to bring anything, desert, something to drink?”

  I had everything covered, but after that call, I was going to need something stronger than the iced tea I currently had brewing.

  “A bottle of a decent Malbec would be great.”

  “Malbec got it. Anything else?”

  “Oh wait, do you drink? I don’t want you purchasing liquor, and you don’t drink.”

  “I don’t, but I don’t mind picking it up for you. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m good. I will be better when I sit down with you for dinner.”

  “Then I will be early.”

  “Okay, see you soon.”

  I disconnected the call and dialed my mother’s number immediately.

  “Hello?”

  “Mommy! Did you give Mason my telephone number?”

  “Listen, Sweetheart, he came over here almost in tears. He told me that he was not making it without you. He said your leaving nearly destroyed him. He’s a changed man. I believe him. You should give him another chance.”

  It was moments like this where I could really see the differences between my generation and my mother’s generation. She was raised to be with a man no matter what. My generation knows that to be with a good man is a blessing but we don’t have to be with one to be whole or happy.

  “Mommy, please, don’t give him any more information about me, please?”

  “I just want you to be happy, Olivia. Is that so wrong?”

  “Mommy, I was never happy with Mason. I am making friends here, and there’s a…” I stopped short of telling her about Paxton. I wasn’t ready yet. “…a great community of people here that are very helpful and nice. I want you to come down soon and meet them, okay?”

  “None of those good friends can keep you warm at night.”

  I wonder if Paxton is up for the job…

  “Okay, Mommy.” I agreed because I didn’t feel like having this conversation with her right now. “Remember, no more information sharing with Mason, okay? No matter what sob story he gives you. He is the enemy.”

  I understood why my mother would feel sympathy towards him. I never told her all of the damage that he’d done to me. I never told her about the miscarriage. I didn’t think she would understand.

  “Alright.”

  “Say it, Mommy.”

  “Okay! No more information to Mason.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he is the enemy.”

  “Correct. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Livi.”

  After our call, I navigated to the recent call log on my phone and found the number Mason called me from. I saved it to my contacts under Never answer this call, then I blocked it. I don’t ever want to hear from him again. I wish I could change my number but I’ve already given it out for business so I can’t.

  I had to remind myself: Mason is the past. He isn’t your future. You don’t owe him anything including your time or energy.

  I sat still for about fifteen minutes before I felt better. I navigated to my music app on my phone and let Lil Sean and E-40 say everything I was thinking…the explicit version.

  Paxton arrived an hour early. When I opened the door, he walked in and placed a bottle of wine on the table near my front door.

  “Come here.” He opened his arms, and I walked right into them while he pulled me into a tight hug. I didn’t know that I needed a hug until his arms were wrapped around me. His chest was hard, but it felt like a soft pillow. He used both hands to rub my back. His cologne pleasantly added to the experience. I felt safe. Content. Protected. I held on tight and didn't plan on letting go anytime soon. We stood for several minutes before he pulled back so that he could look in my eyes.

  “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, “I'm better now.” I honestly felt better. “Come on in.” I turned and walked toward the kitchen. “I'm almost finished with dinner.”

  He grabbed the bottle of wine and followed me into the kitchen.

  “It smells good in here. Did you grill something?”

  “I did. I have steaks, chicken and cedar planked salmon.” I opened the oven door to show him the pans covered in aluminum foil. “I also grilled corn on the cob and veggie kabobs. I'm finishing up my signature sweet tea, and we can eat.”

  I'm so glad I was finished grilling and had taken a shower. I wouldn’t have wanted to smell like charcoal when he hugged me.

  “Oh, and I have one more thing. At the open-air market, I found a company that makes homemade, hand-churned ice cream.”

  “What? I love ice cream.”

  Thanks, Zanetta.

  “Good, that will be our dessert. Have a seat. I will fix your plate.”

  “Okay, let me wash my hands first.”

  He came back from the bathroom and sat down at the table. I finished adding sugar to my iced tea and then prepared our plates. I put a porterhouse steak, two chicken drumsticks and a small piece of salmon on his plate along with two veggie kabobs and a whole ear of corn. I didn’t put the entire steak on my plate because I knew I wouldn’t be able to finish it. I placed our plates on the table and then went back for the sweet tea and glasses. I sat down across from him and smiled when he bowed his head and said a quick prayer. I waited until he was fini
shed before I cut into my steak. He cut into his steak and placed a piece in his mouth.

  “This steak is delicious. Did you use a rub?”

  “Yes, I created my own rub. I let the rub sit on them a couple hours before I put them on the grill.”

  “I can taste the sweet and the salt in the rub. It delicious.”

  “Are you one of those people that give compliments to make people feel good or do you really mean it?”

  “I don’t lie. I don’t have a reason to. If I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t say that I did.”

  “Is that with everything or just with food?”

  “That’s with everything.”

  “Good to know. Thank you for the compliment.”

  “Why do you think your ex-husband decided to call you?”

  “I have no idea. He said something about he was coming to Houston to get his wife. I said I didn’t know he had a wife here.”

  “Is that something that you would consider, getting back with him?”

  “Not if Jesus became flesh knocked on my door, introduced himself, turned some water into wine just so I would believe he was who he said he was and then told me to go back with him. I would tell Jesus to go play in traffic. Get lost in the forest or jump off a bridge. That’s how serious I am about never, ever getting back with him.”

  The mere idea of getting back with Mason made me angry.

  “The marriage was that bad?”

  I stood up from the table, feeling the need to have a glass of wine. This was not a sweet tea conversation. I grabbed one of my wine glasses, the corkscrew and the bottle of wine and went back to my seat at the table.

  Paxton took the bottle and the corkscrew and opened it for me. He poured me a glass and sat the bottle down. I took a generous gulp before I continued with my story.

  “Mason, that’s his name, was very abusive, mentally, emotionally and physically. At first, I thought he treated me bad because I was from a lower class than he was. He was born into money. Both of his parents came from rich families. My mother worked for every penny she had, and that still was nothing. My grandparents worked hard and had very little. My mother has never owned a home or driven a brand-new car. His family had several homes and multiple cars. I realized very early in the relationship that he was just a jerk. It had nothing to do with my pedigree. The first time he hit me was before we got married. We disagreed about the way his mother treated me. He slapped me, and I cried. He apologized and said he would never do it again. I believed him and married him. Well, he did it again and again. It progressively got worse. I learned how to cover bruises like a pro. Eventually, I got tired of being his punching bag, and I left but not before he did a lot of damage.”