Bleu, Grass, Bourbon

by Olivia Gaines

  “I would like to do a really cool mosaic tile on that backsplash with some copper elements in the kitchen and maybe even a copper sink,” Pookie said.

  “Copper elements, yes. Copper sink, not me,” she said. “It needs to be functional and cost-efficient. That sink can run nearly a grand. That’s a whole lot of pennies which financially don’t make much cents.”

  Pookie grinned at the pun. This one was smart. Bleu had made a good choice from what he’d seen thus far. They went downstairs and she found Isiah in the bedroom in a heated argument with Buster, who had torn out the ceiling, all the way to the flooring on the upstairs bedroom.

  “The cost is going to be astronomical to replace all of that,” Isiah yelled.

  “Boss, hear me out,” Buster said. “This guest bedroom is right under the master suite. I figured you wouldn’t want your folks or brothers hearing you and the pretty lady being intimate. That’s why I tore it out. We have some heavy-duty insulation in the warehouse, so I will bring it in.”

  “Buster, you will have to sheetrock it all over again,” Isiah said.

  “I had to sheetrock it anyway from the water damage from the leak to the roof. Plus, it smelled like cat piss or meth head piss. Either way, I wanted to make it nice for her and the baby,” Buster said.

  DeShondra stepped noisily into the room. This was Isiah’s employee and she would not overreach. She dragged Pookie behind her.

  “Great, this ceiling is down. Isiah, would it be possible to maybe do some tongue in groove woodwork in here? Since it is going to be a guest room, Pookie, I want to add color to this one, with homey touches, a large reading chair, and wall sconces,” she said. “I really don’t want this room to look like any other in the house.”

  Isiah’s mouth was opened wide. Since he took too long to respond, DeShondra continued. She stood close, rubbing his arm, giving him large I’m in so in love with you eyes.

  “Did you want the furniture in your man cave at your home to go in the bourbon room upstairs or down here in the great room?” she asked.

  “It can go in the bourbon room,” he said, cocking his head towards Pookie. “I get a room for my collection?”

  “Of course, you do, Isiah, and I’ve asked the designer to make something special for you,” she said with a smile. “Pookie, let’s plan to use my living room furniture in the great room, my dining room furniture in the dining room, and the dinette set at Isiah’s on the screened in back porch, which looks lovely. My bedroom suite will go in the guest room, the bed at Isiah’s will go into the master suite, and the guest bedroom set at my house, one of you guys can have.”

  Buster spoke up, “I sure could use it for my kid. He is growing faster than I can feed him.”

  “It’s yours, Buster,” she said. “You can come to get it whenever you want it.”

  “Sure do ‘appreciate it, Ma’am,” he replied sheepishly.

  “I appreciate the hard work you guys are doing here,” she said. “What is the timeline, nine months?”

  “No ma’am, we will be done in four weeks,” he said. “You need to move in, get comfy and organized before you bring a new life into this world. It would break my heart to have you stressed out trying to move, prepare for the arrival of your child and such. We got you.”

  She couldn’t help it. The hormones hit her and she started to cry. Before Isiah could move to her side, Pookie had an arm around her, Buster was patting her on the back, and he wasn’t sure where June Bug materialized from, but he handed her a clean handkerchief.

  “You guys are amazing,” she said, sniffling. “I’m not a crier but this baby, the hormones, the emotions...you know”

  “We are all parents here. Well, except Pookie there,” Scooter said, leaning against the door jamb. “You ain’t the first crying woman any of us have had to deal with. You won’t be the last.”

  “Leave it to your raggedy mouth ass to ruin the moment,” Pookie said. “Shoo, you old crow!’

  “Takes one to know one, grave robber,” Scooter said.

  “On that note, we are leaving,” Isiah said. “I am around until Monday morning, then I’m headed to Georgia. I should be back on Thursday at the latest and my cell is on. Thanks guys.”

  “Boss, we getting extra for the out of town travel and fuel?” Bubba wanted to know.

  “Sure thing. It will be in your check Wednesday,” he said, escorting DeShondra out the back door to see the beauty of the backyard from the screened in porch. She didn’t know it had a grill deck that led into the mudroom that sat off the kitchen. “We have loads of fruit trees in the back yard if your Mama is into making preserves.”

  “She is,” DeShondra said, looking at the wide-open space. “Is that a pond?”

  “Yep,” he said. “Planning to load it up with fish, maybe get a few chickens for some fresh eggs every day. We have loads of land to raise our family.”

  “Family?”

  “Yep. Only children are selfish and weird. Got to have some balance,” he said. “Plus, we had so much fun making this one, I look forward to making a few more.”

  They stepped off the porch hand-in-hand and walked around the house. He wanted to know what she thought and nearly burst at his seams waiting for her to comment. Helping her up into the vehicle, he started the monster truck.

  “So, what did you think?”

  “Of the six men, I think Pookie was the only one with a full set of teeth. The other five couldn’t make a full set amongst them,” she said.

  “Not about the men, the house,” he asked.

  “I loved it, surprisingly enough,” she told him. “I love Pookie’s design ideas, but I am worried about costs.”

  “No need. I got the house for forty, planning to sink in another sixty-five,” he said.

  “I can contribute half of that,” she said.

  “Nope, the house is my wedding gift to you,” he said squeezing her hand. “No mortgage and fresh eggs every day.”

  “Thank you,” she said, her bottom lip quivering.

  “Are you about to laugh or cry?”

  “Both. Where did you find that unlikely group of people, and how in the world did you make them into a team?”

  Isiah put the vehicle into gear, heading towards the outskirts of town for some bar-b-que. He began to fill her in on meeting Buster at a Home Depot, and how he hired the contractor to help with the old barn at his house.

  “He is a felon?”

  “Buster had a profitable construction company that the gangs wanted to get in on, do some shady dealings through homes he was renovating,” Isiah said. “He took a bribe from an undercover he knew was an agent, just to get free of the gang. The man lost everything, including his license. He now works under mine as my foreman.”

  “Scooter, the electrician?”

  “Bail jumping is a Class E,” he said.

  “Good grief! What did that Joker, the funny man, do?” she asked.

  “Witness tampering. He beat the hell out of his cousin who was set to testify against him. The cousin wanted Ray-Ray gone so he could have his woman, who in turn testified against them both, sending him and his cousin to prison,” Isiah said.

  “I’m scared to keep going,” she frowned.

  “June Bug loves grass, so much so, he grew some shit that made people see flying pink donkeys. The problem was he sold it to the mayor’s son, who ain’t been right since,” Isiah said.

  “Damn,” she said afraid to ask, but curiosity propelled her forward. “Pookie?”

  “Destruction of a cemetery,” Isiah said. “He went away for a design show and his man, who had pneumonia, died. The dude’s mom buried her son without even telling Pookie the man was dead. She also buried a lot of Pookie’s stuff in the casket, claiming her son died from the nasty man’s disease.”

  “I assume from the pneumonia that he was HIV positive,” she said, with one eyebrow arched.

  “Nope,” Isiah said. “The dumb ass had pneumonia and a high fever and turned on the AC and ceilin
g fan. He died. His Momma buried him two days later.”

  “That’s cold,” she said.

  “No, cold was putting Pookie’s stuff in the man’s casket. He dug up that damned grave to get his shit back, but that too is a Class E felony,” he said.

  “Okay, I have to know about the last one, Bubba, what is his story?”

  “Three counts of soliciting prostitution,” Isiah said. “Two were from his sister.”

  “What kind of backwoods shit is that? Why would he want to buy sex from his own sister?”

  “He didn’t. She’s a prostitute,” he said. “The first time, he was trying to get her to come home and see about her child. Then it turned into an argument on the street. He threw money at her, they got into a fight, and a cop arrested him for assault and solicitation. The second time, his sister got a new pimp, who put his sister in one of those hotels. He had to pay to get past the pimp, and Bubba called the police. The officers arrested him with all the other shady looking men in the hotel.”

  “The third time?” she asked, almost afraid of the answer.

  “That one was on him,” Isiah said. “He was waiting for his sister, who had a client. A pretty little thing walked by, and well, he figured he had some time to kill. She was an undercover.”

  “I’m sorry, but that is just a whole new level of stupid,” she said.

  “Stupid is these very talented men, who mentally made some snap decisions, which caused each to lose their livelihoods. The only jobs a felon can get are the ones no one else wants, so I hired them. We flip twelve to fourteen houses a year, and they get a decent salary with benefits and a say in what we do,” Isiah told her.

  “That is good to know,” she told him, suddenly feeling hungry. “I could use something to eat.”

  “Already ahead of you both, my dear,” he said, pulling into the bar-b-que joint. “After lunch, I want to head to the house and get me some pie.”

  “Pie?” she asked as he snarled his upper lip and flexed his muscles to show her his Daddy’s home face. DeShondra blushed at the tell-tale face. She knew that face. That face got her pregnant and also dehydrated on several occasions. She loved that face. Shimmying her shoulders, she happily let him know, “And pie you shall have, Daddy.”

  DESHONDRA ATE EVERYTHING on her plate and part of what was on Isiah’s. The tea that he’d given her for breakfast indeed settled her stomach. Breakfast was gone and she felt like she could honestly eat the table if she weren’t afraid of the splinters.

  “I need to make a stop before we get back to the house,” she said, looking at him out the corner of her eye. Giving him directions to the nearest big box store, he pulled in, finding a large parking space, slightly away from the crowds.

  “Silly me,” she said, opening the door, “I don’t know why it never dawned on me to check the garage at your place to see what you drove. Never expected it to be this.”

  “I have other vehicles,” he said. “Let me come around and help you.”

  “Naw, I got it,” she told him, opening the door to get out. The ground looked miles away as she placed her wedge heel on the rung to step down. If she fell, it would be totally embarrassing, which prompted her to roll to her side, holding the seat belt as she slid out of the truck, ass first.

  A gentleman, observing Isiah, the beard, the truck, and the way DeShondra was dressed, asked if she needed help or in danger.

  “No, I’m fine, thank you,” she responded to the good Samaritan.

  “I’ll come with you,” Isiah said.

  “No need. I’m only getting one item. I’ll be back in a jiffy,” she added with a smile. The man, who offered her help, stood in front of the truck giving Isiah the stink eye. Isiah wanted to pull his gun out and wave at the old man who looked like a Southern black preacher, but instead, he blew a kiss to his woman. She, in turn, blew one back. Isiah shrugged his shoulders at the old man, who toddled off behind her, at a safe distance.

  He sat in the truck quietly, knowing, it would probably be an hour before she came back. It was the perfect time to go over the supply list he needed for items to take to Georgia. Less than 15 minutes later, she returned with one bag, hefting the item over into the back of the truck and climbing in.

  “Home, Garçon,” she told him.

  “Just one thing?”

  “One thing was all I needed,” she said, giving him that smile that made his Daddy maker want to play. As he drove, in his head he mentally cataloged her house and the different places they could make love since he had no intention of sleeping in that bed.

  Arriving at the house, he parked in her driveway, the truck sticking out like a pimple on prom night, and neighbors came out to take a gander at him. Stepping up on the rear tire, DeShondra pulled the bag down, nearly clucking herself in the face and losing her balance, but Isiah caught her.

  “Easy there, little Mama,” he said, his arms around her waist.

  “Come on, I have a surprise for you,” she said with a wide grin. She was excited to show him what she’d purchased in the store. Disarming the security system, she let them into the house and made a beeline for her bedroom. By the time Isiah arrived, she had stripped down the bed and opened the package to reveal an egg crate mattress cover along with a down mattress pad.

  It was his turn to grin. “You bought this for me?”

  “The idea of you being in this house and not in bed with me messed with my head. Plus, I want you to be comfortable as well,” she said with a smile.

  “Will you be able to sleep on this as too?”

  “I can sleep on a rock,” she told him, reaching for the sheets.

  “You do,” he mumbled, as he tucked his side of the bed with the deep pocket sheets. The bed appeared to be a great deal more comfortable and he tried it out. “Oh yeah!’

  He gave her the Daddy face, causing her to giggle as she dove into the bed beside him. Isiah started with a sensual kiss which left her breathless and clinging to his body. Strong hands roamed over her hips and abdomen, resting on her belly that held their child. I’m going to be somebody’s daddy. However, his first thoughts were in being the lady’s lover.

  “Always start at one,” Josiah Neary frequently said to his sons. Isiah would start at one and work his way down the list of 12 things he needed to check off on her body. A slice of pie was midway on the list. I’d better get started.

  Chapter 7 – Georgia on my Mind

  “I don’t want you to leave,” she said softly, the words sounding foreign to her ears. He had just arrived and already he was leaving her for a week. A weekend wasn’t enough.

  “I’ll be back in a couple of days, and then you won’t be able to get rid of me,” he said, pulling her close, nibbling on the side of her neck.

  “It’s just, I dunno, feel better when you are here. I can eat and sleep all night and don’t worry as much,” she confessed, holding him tight.

  “Four days tops. Then I should be back by Friday,” he told her. “I have my cell if you need anything. You want me to have Pookie stay over at the house with you?”

  “Hell no,” she said. “I’m not feeling that bad to deal with all of that drama.”

  “Go easy at work. Take the needed breaks, and I will be back soon,” he said, kissing her as if he were going off to war.

  Her fingers trailed over his chest, wanting to yank him back in the front door, but he needed to get moving. She needed to dress for work, eat some breakfast, and make sense of her day. Meandering her way to the kitchen, she found that he’d set the table for one, with a single red rose from the dining room, her cup of WTF Tea, and scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon. Sighing, she sat at the table feeling lonelier than she ever had in her life until she felt a flutter in her stomach.

  “What the hell?” she said, touching her belly. Then she felt the flutter again. The damned tears were back as she caressed her tummy. “I miss him already too little one.”

  ISIAH DROVE THE MONSTER truck back to London, Kentucky first, to grab supplies and
more clothing and to pick up the utility truck with his supplies. A tightness in his chest made him go slowly, but he knew the faster he got to Georgia, the quicker he could get home. Home to her. Home to his family, but again, first things were first. He needed to help his brother and his family.

  Driving at a moderate speed, he arrived in less than four hours with one thing on his mind: pot roast. It was Monday. On Monday’s, Ms. Ethel made pot roast, cornbread with corn kernels inside, and collard greens seasoned with just the right amount of pork. Unlike his brother Gabriel who enjoyed fine dining with a good bottle of wine, he preferred good ole Southern home cooking with a cold beer or a swig of good Bourbon to wash it down. He didn’t care what Gabriel said, beer went better with cheese any day.

  Parking the white unmarked utility truck next to the Sheriff’s cruiser, he made his way inside the diner. The smell of slow-simmered beef made his mouth water from the moment the door opened. Locals sat at tables dining in delight over the large chunks of carrots, potatoes, and pieces of celery. He hoped he’d arrived in time to place a large order.

  “Afternoon, Ms. Ethel,” Isiah called out. “Can I get four orders of your pot roast to go, with an extra order of those mouthwatering muffins, a strawberry soda, and a root beer?”

  “Is that you, Isiah Neary?” Ms. Ethel yelled back. “Lordy, as I live and breathe! I can almost tell the day of the week by which of you Nearys show up.”

  He loved Mondays and Ms. Ethel’s pot roast almost as much as he loved Fridays with her hot catfish and cornbread waffles. The thought of staying until Friday to get a hearty serving had crossed his mind, but he needed to get back to his lady and his growing son.

  “Good to see you, Ms. Ethel,” he said, noticing the bulge of the belly from the Sheriff sitting in the corner on his usual stool.

  “Did you say Neary?” the Sheriff asked, getting up off the stool to walk over to where Isiah was standing. Isiah didn’t move or shift his stance.