Bleu, Grass, Bourbon

by Olivia Gaines

  Tomorrow would tell.

  Chapter 5 – This Bed is Too Hard

  It felt like he had laid down on a box of bricks. The bed was too hard and he knew he would have trouble sleeping on the medieval torture device. He also knew it wasn’t the ideal way to the new start of his relationship with his lady love, but tonight, he would more than likely sleep in the guest room. Immobile, lying flat on his back, he stared at the ceiling trying to find a way to explain that he wouldn’t be sharing the rock she called her bed. Rolling to his side, he looked at her, only to find she was lying on her side looking at him.

  “This bed is hard as a rock,” he said, not moving.

  Her hand slid low under the covers, going to the point below his navel, traveling lower, checking the temperature of his feelings. To her surprise, his body showed a lackluster interest in her efforts to get the party started. A bout of disappointment coursed through her. He was always ready. No matter if her hair was standing on end, or if she was undressing for a shower, she normally never got an opportunity to finish her intended task.

  “Surprisingly, you are not,” she said softly. “Is everything okay?”

  “No,” he mumbled. “This bed is too hard, plus I’m tired and sore already.”

  “Sore from what?”

  He rolled to his back, the soft lights from the lamps shining on his face as he pulled up the tattered wife beater. She spotted the deep, crimson bruises on his torso. Her hands touched each mark, followed by her lips as she placed soft kisses on the injured skin.

  Her hands ran through the dense hair on his chest, her heart full of concern. “What happened to you, Isiah?”

  “I got shot yesterday at close range by an angry gun runner,” he confessed. Maybe he shouldn’t have said it because she jumped up from the bed. “I’m okay, Baby. I had on my vest, but if he had aimed higher, it would have been the end of me.”

  Out of nowhere, the tears started to flow down her face. It was unlike her to cry, but a flash image of a life without him, raising their child alone, hit her hard. Had he not said anything, she would have never known. Her life would have altered again had it not been for bad aim and a bulletproof vest.

  “Don’t cry, gorgeous,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms. “He wasn’t trying to kill me, just slow me down, and it worked. All the air was knocked out of me and the only thing I thought about was getting here to you.”

  “Isiah, the new job...you don’t have to do field work do you? I’m sorry, it’s not like me to cry. I’m all hormonal and feeling imbalanced,” she told him.

  “Never be ashamed or afraid to show your emotions with me. I understand how you feel. I had a moment too, lying in that pile of leaves, but no more guns of that sort. I’ll be the Assistant Director of Operations. Very little field work, overseeing, hell, I don’t know what the job is and don’t care,” he told her. “It has regular hours, no one shooting at me, and it is safe.”

  “Good,” she said, snuggling closer to him, wiping away her tears.

  “Not so good,” he said. “I’m not sleeping in this bed. I’ll be walking around like it was legs day at the gym.”

  “The guest room bed is about the same. I got a deal for buying two sets,” she said.

  “Then the couch it is,” he replied, kissing the tip of her nose and pulling away.

  “You are seriously going to sleep on my couch?”

  “Have to,” he said. “Too much to do this week to be slowed down. Plus, I gotta drive to Georgia on Monday. You wanna come with and see the baby...check on your friend?”

  “You said they live in a cabin,” DeShondra spoke softly.

  “Yep.”

  “Then my answer is no,” she said flatly. “I am not about that life. I don’t want to shit in a camp toilet that I have to crank to make compost for the veggie garden or have to heat water on the stove to take a bath.”

  “It ain’t that kinda cabin. It has a flushing toilet, shower...,” he said.

  “Probably a rollaway bed that we have to beat the cooties out of before we sleep on it,” she responded. “Again, no thank you.”

  “The cabin has a pretty comfy Murphy bed,” he said. “It is not totally roughing it.”

  “Do they have Wifi?”

  “That would defeat the purpose,” he said.

  “There ya go,” she said, fluffing her pillow. “DeShondra ain’t interested.”

  Isiah, still sitting on the side of the bed, wanted to know more about her relationship with Tameka. Cabrina, the other partner in the trio, couldn’t wait to get to Georgia to check on their friend. He was curious as to why DeShondra wasn’t interested.

  “I thought you three were tight,” he said.

  “No, Cabrina and she are tight,” she replied. “I met them in college. We are as unlike as probably you and your brothers. Aisha...or Tameka, or whatever the fuck her name is now, was always about saving the planet. Living a green life. Cabrina was all about appearances and being a carbon replica of her mother.”

  “And you?”

  “I’m about business,” she said. “In college, I partnered up, networked, and learned from those around me so I could make my business successful when I started it. There is nothing in me that desires to be anything like my mother.”

  “Odd. She seems like a nice lady,” he said.

  “She is a wonderful smothering mom who never worked a day in her life,” DeShondra said. “She married a dentist, spit out two children, and her life was about nothing but that. Bake sales, fundraisers, sewing costumes for plays and color swatches for redoing the tight three-bedroom home we grew up in.”

  “You say that with some distaste in your mouth,” he said.

  “She never had her own money. As a woman that is a tough life. She was always clipping coupons, recycling leftovers, and penny-pinching,” she said. “I hated it and the homemade clothes we wore.”

  “So you wanted to be the total opposite?”

  “I am the total opposite,” she said. “My home is neutral in colors and ideas. There are no random walls painted in red for a pop of color that next month may be pink. No zany colored pillows constructed from a scrap of fabric on sale in a remnant bin. Just so you know, coupons make me itch.”

  “Duly noted,” he said. “However, once that child is born, you may feel differently about leaving our baby in a stranger’s hands.”

  “Oh please,” she said. “My mother can’t wait for me to have this baby. I won’t need childcare. She is going to steal it. Spoil it and then give it back to us.”

  “She did that with your brother’s kids?”

  “No, those monsters she won’t let stay the night in her house,” DeShondra said. “You will see why. Their mother, Tisha, I don’t know about that chick. I can’t for the life of me comprehend what my brother sees in her.”

  Tiredness was overtaking him and he needed to sleep. In the morning he would introduce his fiancé to the crew, go over the plans for the house, and hope that she didn’t hate it.

  “Okay, goodnight,” he said, taking the pillow and heading to the couch. It was comfortable enough and soon he was out.

  DeShondra heard the soft snore from the living room and got up to take him a blanket. She covered the white, pasty, hairy legs with a cover, watching him sleep. He was handsome. Strong. Capable. I could do worse.

  I wonder what he looks like without the beard?

  DESHONDRA WOKE TO THE smell of food. Not food which made her want to bolt to the kitchen and chow down, but something bland, cooked in something healthy and served with a side order of what the hell am I eating? The only thing worse in her mind than bland breakfast foods was oatmeal. Oatmeal tasted like poverty to her.

  “Morning,” she said, scratching her butt cheek as she entered the seldom-used kitchen.

  “Hey, Gorgeous,” he said, handing her a hot cup of what she thought was coffee. One sip and she ran to the sink to spit it out.

  “What the hell am I drinking?”

  “A pre
natal tea to make my son all smart and shit,” he said.

  “Well, that is what it tastes like, a cup of liquified shit. Isiah, you made coffee, and I want coffee,” she said. “It’s bad enough I didn’t get any love stick last night and this morning, this. You haven’t even kissed me yet. Get out! Right now, get out of my house!”

  Isiah laughed, taking her cup and squeezing in a couple drops of honey. He encouraged her to try it again. She did, scowling at him.

  “Now it tastes like sweetened liquified shit with a subtle hint of bee vomit,” she said, looking at the skillet on the stove. The food too looked like yellow solid poop and she didn’t want any of it either.

  “Okay, you can have the coffee,” he said, pouring her half a cup and handing it her. DeShondra didn’t take it.

  “It’s decaf ain’t it?”

  “Yep,” he said with a toothy grin.

  DeShondra took off the ring and handed it back to him, shaking her head no. “This ain’t gonna work out. Here, take your blue diamond along with my blue balls and go on over to your farmhouse. We are over,” she said with a straight face, inhaling the aroma of the coffee.

  “Fine, if you feel that a cup of caffeine in the morning on an empty stomach is not going to make you give birth to a twitchy, crying, howling child, then go ahead,” he said. “I’m not getting up at night to calm him down with a hit of caffeine.”

  She thought about her sugar and caffeine hyped up nieces and nephews. “Whatever, I’ll drink your poop tea. What did you cook?”

  “A veggie frittata. You should be able to keep it down,” he told her.

  “I’m going to eat it because you made it, but it doesn’t mean that I’m going to like it,” she said.

  “Fair enough,” he replied, as he watched her scarf down half the skillet and wash the meal away with the cup of tea.

  “Thank you,” she said. “That was pretty good and no nausea.”

  “The tea helps,” he told her.

  “I’m grateful for all the help I can get,” she said, picking the ring up off the counter and slipping it back on her finger. “I’ll shower and get dressed so I can see this farmhouse. I need to smear on some makeup to look presentable. What are you planning to do?”

  “I’m going to come and watch you do all of that with your sexy self,” he said with that smoldering look which led to the shift in the condition of her uterus. She knew what that look meant. His lip snarled upwards as he moved towards her. The man meant business when he looked at her that way. No talk. No explaining. Just the two of them in a tangled heap of arms and legs.

  She liked that about him. She liked that part a whole lot.

  Chapter 6 – Baby, Meet the Crew

  She knew the house. She knew the property. She also knew it used to belong to a bunch of meth dealers and now this man wanted her to call this home. The house would have to be gutted down to the studs and even the studs would have to be treated to remove the years of drugs seeped into the wood framing. It would take almost six months to get the house in a livable condition, and the cost would be worth more than the property. This she knew because she’d been offered the listing.

  “Welcome home,” he said, pulling into the driveway. An open dumpster sat beside the house, and materials came flying out of the windows. Isiah blew his horn three times to let his team know to find a stopping point on their work to come to meet the lady of the house. One by one, they filed out of the farmhouse like orchard workers coming to read the cider house rules.

  “It looks like the meth dealers are still occupying the property,” she mumbled under her breath. “Those men, outside of Pookie, look like felons.”

  “Former felons and damned good workers,” he said, parking the monster trunk. He walked around the truck to help her down. Wearing a pair of well-fitted jeans, he noticed she still had on a wedge heel with a matching designer bag. Damn, she is sexy as hell to me. His chest puffed out a bit as he turned her to face his team. “Baby, meet the crew.”

  He started from the far end with June Bug. “June Bug is the landscaper. The man can grow grass anywhere,” Isiah said with a twist of his lip.

  “I assume that is what earned him a felony,” she whispered.

  “You are catching on,” he said.

  “Scooter, over there is one of the best current finders you will ever meet,” he said. “He’s my electrician.”

  “Pleasure ma’am,” Scooter said.

  “You’ve met Pookie. He is ready to get to work on the design of the home,” he continued. He introduced Bubba, who did drywall and insulation. “That there is Ray-Ray, he does floors and paints.”

  “Speaking of colors, your lady friend is black and you are Bleu, which is going to make your baby black and blue,” Ray-Ray said.

  “Just like your right eye,” Isiah chided Ray-Ray.

  “My eye ain’t black and blue,” the man said defensively while the other men shook their heads.

  “Keep talking, buddy, and I can get you there,” Isiah said, pointing at the last man standing at the head of the line. “This here is Buster, my right-hand man.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Ma’am,” Buster said. “We have a clear path through the house, but I caution you to step lightly in those wedges. The house is ready for your pre-inspection.”

  “Thank you all,” DeShondra said. “I look forward to spending some time with each of you so that we are all on the same sheet of music. I appreciate all the work that you are going to put into this to make it a lovely home for our family.”

  “I think you are going to love this home and raising your family in it, and we will do everything we can to bring your vision to fruition,” Buster said.

  “I like you,” she said to Buster, who blushed crimson under her gaze. “Lead on, right-hand man.”

  DeShondra had prepared herself to hate the house before she even stepped through the front door, but after nearly two hours with the Bleu’s Crew, she couldn’t wait to move in. She was even excited about the colors Pookie picked out, fabric swatches and color palates that she’d never considered mixing, let alone thinking they matched.

  Entering the foyer, she loved the staircase to the second floor. “Ma’am, we can replane the wood on the staircase or carpet it, whichever you prefer. I personally would like to maintain the natural wood in the house,” Buster said.

  “Planing the wood would be labor intensive. If you remove the current stairs and get a few new landings from the local home improvement store which closely matches the original in wood, it will save time and dollars,” she replied to Buster, who seemed to be impressed. He pointed at the next stop.

  “To the left, we have the library, which we are looking at making your new home office,” Buster told her.

  DeShondra walked into the 12 x 14 space, spotting the natural wood fireplace, the built-in bookcases, and two storage closets. Ray-Ray moved forward to discuss the floors.

  “These floors are all-natural hardwoods. I can strip them all down, give them a fresh coat and make them all look like new,” Ray-Ray said.

  “I like that idea, Ray-Ray,” she said. “Let’s go with a warm, honey-toned finish. I would like tiles in the bathrooms, though, and something durable in the kitchen. If you can match the tone of the wood with a laminate for the kitchen, I’ll throw you in a bonus.”

  Ray-Ray was all teeth. Well, the few that he had, giving her a salute and wandering off. He came back a second later. “Pookie will let me know what colors you want the walls painted.

  “I want them all neutral,” she said. “Which will make painting easy.”

  He grinned again.

  “Let’s head up the stairs to the rooms there, and we will make the kitchen and downstairs living to space your last stops,” Buster told her. Isiah, to her surprise, had stepped away, leaving her in the hands of his crew.

  “Very well,” she said, following Buster up the stairs with Pookie in tow behind them, who took over the lead starting with the master suite.

  �
��Girl, I love this master bedroom. Let me show you some ideas I have for your suite,” Pookie said, taking out his tablet. He showed her the design for her shoe and walk-in closet as well as a few designs for the bathroom and tile patterns. The colors Pookie chose wouldn’t have been her first choice, but she would be sharing this home with Isiah.

  “Looks good,” she replied.

  “Come on across the hall,” Pookie said. “This will be the starter nursery for the baby. I do want to do a Murphy bed in this room, for like holiday seasons. If Bleu’s brothers and parents come down, the crib will move to your room, and this becomes an additional bedroom for guest.”

  “I love that idea,” she said, surprised.

  “Great! In the back room, I was thinking of making a transitional bedroom,” Pookie said to her.

  “Transitional?”

  “Yes, we start it with a full-sized bed so when the baby gets older, he can move right into it without a change of furniture. Through the bathroom there is a little cave, which would make an ideal playroom,” Pookie said. “That way, there are no toys scattered all over the place.”

  “I would like it to be neutral, if at all possible, maybe a yellow,” she told him.

  “What if it’s a girl?”

  “Yellow will work for a girl or a boy. If it is a boy, we bring in blue curtains or something simple,” she said.

  “I’m feeling you,” Pookie said. Moving to the next room, he said, “This bonus room here, not sure what you want to do with it.”

  DeShondra walked inside of the space, which was larger than she’d imagined. It had a very large walk-in closet, and she had an idea.

  “Pookie, gut this closet and make it a three-sided display with glass doors for Isiah’s bourbon collection,” she said. “You can grab some frosted closet doors from Ikea. This will be his space. Leather chairs, big screen tv, and extra vents for the cigars he likes to smoke.”

  Pookie was smiling. He was liking Bleu’s lady and her unselfishness on the design choices, which included Bleu. Down the stairs, she entered the great room, where a formal dining room sat in an alcove that led into a large kitchen.