Bleu, Grass, Bourbon

by Olivia Gaines

  “I had planned to get me some pie,” he said, chuckling.

  “What is with you and Zach and the pie?” she said.

  His hand went low, touching the spot he’d just disconnected from which was still slick from their lovemaking. “Pie,” he said.

  “Oh, my goodness! That is what he meant,” she said. “Well, he must be getting his fair share, he’s been a different man, all week.”

  “I feel different too, Shondra,” he said. “It feels good to belong to someone.”

  “You are mine, Isiah Neary, and I am all yours, swelling belly and all,” she said.

  “Good, because Honey, I’m home,” he said, kissing her fully on the mouth. “I’m hungry, too. You made me dinner, so I am ready to try that shit out.”

  “I should have lied and said I did it, but my mother cooked and brought it over,” she said.

  “Bless that woman,” he said, shifting his weight to sit up and adjust his clothing. Thinking better of it, he kicked off the pants and boots and decided to have dinner in his drawers. He complimented her mother’s cooking, saying the meal was pretty tasty.

  DeShondra agreed with his assessment. The meal was just as good as she remembered eating it as a child. It was her mother’s go-to recipe for looking fancy on a tight budget. The simple dress worked as she watched a happy man eat a meal at a dinner table next to the woman who carried his child.

  In that instant, her entire perspective on relationships shifted. It didn’t take much to make him happy. Suddenly, she realized, her life didn’t require much to meet him in the middle and make the marriage work. Their life together didn’t mandate that she needed to change everything about her world to accommodate Isiah into it; she only needed to include him and show him how important he was to her. A good life was sitting across the table from her, sporting a beard, eating chicken, and floating on a life raft that suddenly reached a new level of buoyancy.

  It felt good to float.

  Chapter 11 – And You’re an Asshole

  SHE DIDN’T HEAR ISIAH’S truck start up but the bed was empty. The tangled covers around her legs generated more heat than she cared to experience first thing in the morning and her hair was an absolute mess. Isiah Neary was rough on a sister’s hair. The surge of hormones didn’t help either. A second and third round of lovemaking kicked off just as intense as the first round with the two of them going at it like rabbits during mating season. No wonder I’m pregnant. I’ve agreed to marry him and I feel like I don’t really know the man. I plan to get to know him before we walk down that aisle.

  The nightgown also bunched around her waist; she didn’t remember putting on. As a matter of record, she didn’t remember getting into bed. They had dinner in the kitchen then made love on the counter. A feeble effort was made to watch a movie from a streaming service which led to more lovemaking and now, she was in bed, in a nightgown she never wore. He dressed me and put me in bed?

  Struggling, she sat up, her back screaming in pain along with her tender inner thighs from the beating he put on her body. It was good. Good loving. He was a good man.

  Stumbling her way to the kitchen, she found that the kettle was still warm. A plate with a veggie omelet sat under a plate cover with fresh slices of orange, apple, and a handful of seedless grapes. A note sat beside the plate which read: “I’ll be back before the tea gets cold.” The cup in which she drank her tea in the morning sat next to the plate, the tea strainer filled, with just a bit of honey drizzled in the bottom of the cup. DeShondra added the hot water, allowing the tea to steep as she looked out the front window. Isiah’s truck was still in the driveway, but her car was gone.

  “What in the hell?” she asked as the sleek black car pulled into the drive. She ran back to the table, taking the plate after holding the mug. In her mind, she tried to look as if his absence hadn’t been noticed, but taking her car was an issue.

  The front door opened, the keys didn’t jangle since there were only two on the ring: home and office. The fob in her car disarmed the home alarm and he entered, seeing her sitting at the table, and he smiled as if he hadn’t seen her in years, although he had spent the better part of the night making sure she knew his name. “Good morning,” he said with a grin.

  Isiah made his way to the table, placing a warm, loving kiss on her lips. “I hope you slept well,” he said.

  “Like a rock,” she replied. “It seems as if you didn’t sleep much at all.”

  “Yeah, bad dreams keep me up most nights,” he said.

  “Is this something you’ve sought help with, I mean to get you through the rough parts of the ugliness you’ve seen on your former job,” she wanted to know.

  “I will,” he replied, taking a seat at the table.

  “Good,” she said, cutting into the omelet with her fork. “Did you get your errands done this morning?”

  “Not errands,” he said, getting back up to make himself a cup of coffee. “I had your car detailed, checked the fluids, tires, and filled up the tank; it smelled like French fries and dirty feet. I know you have a busy week ahead −you know, a few less things for you to worry about.”

  “Thank you,” she said, shocked at the thoughtfulness, “that was really considerate of you.”

  “No biggie. So, what’s the plan for the weekend?” he asked, placing coffee into a coffee press that he must have brought from home. She didn’t own one.

  “We have to be at my parent’s by two today. Tomorrow, I have an open house from one to four, plus two properties to review for a potential listing, maybe church, if I can get out of bed,” she said.

  “Church sounds good. We need to speak with your pastor, set a date for the wedding,” he told her.

  “I would rather run off to Vegas before dealing with all that nonsense. Bridesmaids, flowers, bridal shower, bah,” she said. “Plus, I don’t have the time to plan it, oversee it, or deal with the meltdowns of women who want to make it about them. I’m pregnant, feeling pissy if not actually pissy, and have a company to run.”

  “You think Zach is ready to step up?”

  “That man can barely keep up, let alone step up to anything. His wife is doing a number on his head and I can’t trust him like I used to,” she said.

  “Truthfully, you can’t afford, for your health and that of our child, to continue to work at the pace you do. It will prove detrimental to one of you,” he told her.

  “Understood, but I built this company with the sweat of my brow and at times, the steam of my sheer will to not fail. My business is my world,” she said flatly.

  “Your world is expanding each day as a life grows inside of you,” he replied in the same dry tone. “None of this you are going through alone. I am here with you to help support your vision.”

  “And in return, what is you want? Half of my company?” she asked, feeling defensive.

  “Naw,” he said. “That is yours. I am not a part of that world. Our world starts at the front door. Outside of the door, we will decide as we go along. Please know that whatever I can do to make this pregnancy, our life together easier, I’m willing to do.”

  This was her moment. To bring up the subject of the prenuptial agreement. Fear hit her low in her gut at the thought of having to ask him to sign the documentation. There was no other way to remove the bandage, Grip. Yank. Holler. She asked the question.

  “Are you willing to sign a prenuptial agreement?”

  “Sure,” he said without hesitation. “I looked you up. I know you are worth a few pennies, but I’m not a pauper by any means.”

  “I take it that you’re telling me, you are okay to sign the agreement which states that if we get a divorce, you will get nothing from me?”

  He poured himself a cup of the coffee and joined her at the table. He took it black, no cream nor sugar as he reached across the table to hold her hand. His eyes filled with warmth as the little crinkles formed at the edges when he smiled.

  “You are all I ever need, DeShondra. I am only marrying once, s
o you can forget about getting rid of me,” he told her.

  “How many broke people have said that before?” she wondered.

  “I am saying it because I mean it,” he told her. “If I don’t mean it, I don’t say it. Marriage is a partnership. You help me be the best man I can be and in return, you will be taken care of, treated like the sun rises in your eyes and our children will be happy, well adjusted little people. What I am asking you to do is to meet me halfway. I’ll do my part if you do yours and we can live a long, well-balanced life.”

  “Tell me that again after you meet my family,” she told him.

  “Lady, I will say it again after I meet your family and you meet mine, which we need to do as well. My folks will be in Ohio this coming week as well as Zeke and Tameka. Can you get away on Thursday so we can drive up?”

  “I can work it out,” she said.

  “Good,” he replied. “Speaking of working it out, as far as the wedding is concerned, between your mother and mine, there will be nothing for you to do other than show up and look beautiful.”

  “Isiah, I would be lying if I said this didn’t worry me. We have great sex, so great in fact we made a child, and now we are engaged to be married. You bought us a house and I don’t even truly know you,” she said.

  “That my love, is what makes this oh so delicious,” he said. “Every day I wake up, I get to learn something new about you.”

  DeShondra blushed. The more she talked to him the more she liked him. Usually, at this point in the relationship, she’d get bored out of her mind. The few men she’d dated wanted to get into her finances, but he merely called them a few pennies when she was, in fact, worth millions. If it was a ploy, he was good. Meeting her father, who had a built-in bullshit detector, would be the deciding factor.

  “Delicious?”

  “All the way down to my fur pie,” he said with a wink. “I need a shower. Hey, are you dressing me for this shindig or do you trust me to pick my own clothes?”

  “Isiah Neary, I never want you to be anyone other than who you are. Therefore, I don’t need to pick out your clothes to dress you up a certain way to meet my insane family. Be yourself,” she said.

  “I’m good at that,” he said, taking his coffee with him to the bedroom to shower.

  The omelet was cold. The tea had become bitter and the butterflies in her stomach seemed to wake up and want to play. “Calm down, little one, I’m going to eat,” she said as she rubbed her stomach. Each time the child’s father spoke, the bundle of DNA got to work inside of her belly. She could only imagine what it was going to do as it got bigger. DeShondra understood the fetus’ excitement. She felt the same way every time the man spoke as well.

  MAYA LEMAN HAD THE patio decorated as if her son was returning home from the war. Her husband was on the grill burning more meat than he physically cooked, leaving very little which was edible, a point of contention for Maya, who saw it as a waste.

  “Xavier, if you want to socialize, then let somebody else take over the grill,” she warned. “I don’t want our son-in-law to be having to eat burnt meat.”

  “What about the rest of us?” DeAndre Leman asked. “We don’t want to eat burnt meat either.”

  “Them little monsters of yours are lucky I feed them at all,” Maya said. “Go check on them to make sure they aren’t peeling off the wallpaper and eating the lint out the dryer.”

  “My kids are not that bad,” DeAndre said.

  “Yeah, but that wife of yours has not moved off that couch since she arrived. Those kids could burn down the house around her and she wouldn’t move,” Maya said. “I really don’t know what you see in that woman.”

  “The sex, Maya,” Xavier said. “You see the product of it.” His attention was now drawn to his grandson, who picked up a burned wiener out of the trash can. “Rafe, put that down, boy, and get that out of your mouth.”

  The sleek black car pulled into the driveway of an adorable, three-bedroom ranch home with perfectly manicured grass, loads of color, and a bright teal door on a gray house. To Isiah, the house looked like fun people lived inside, and he was anxious to go in. He wanted to meet the people his lady called family.

  “My brother is DeAndre, his wife is Tisha, and those kids, I don’t keep up with their names. I just give them gift cards on birthdays and Christmas,” she said.

  “That’s kind of like...awful. You’re a bad aunt,” Isiah responded.

  “No, the kids are awful, wait until you meet them,” she said, exiting the car. He followed along behind her, carrying sodas around the back of the home. Music blared loudly as kids ran in and out of the back door, and two men, similar in height and weight held beers as one failed to tend the grill, allowing the fire to get too high. Maya spotted DeShondra and Isiah first.

  “They are here, they’re here,” she said, coming over to greet her daughter and the man she was going to marry. Maya wore a 50’s style dress with matching ballerina slippers and an apron. “Welcome, Isiah.”

  She hugged him as if she hadn’t seen him in twenty years.

  “Dinner last night was amazing, thank you,” he said. “I enjoyed it very much.”

  “Glad to hear it. Come on over and meet everyone. Allow me to make the introductions.”

  With a flourish of her hands, she made the introductions, taking special care with the titles. “This is my husband Dr. Xavier Leman, his twin brother Dr. Javier Leman. My son Dr. DeAndre Leman, he’s DeShondra’s twin. That’s Javier’s wife Millie Bowles Leman, attorney at law, and the hellions that keep running in an out of the house are DeAndre’s children,” Maya said.

  “Mom, they are your grandchildren,” her son corrected.

  “Tomato, potato,” she replied. “Please tell me you know how to man a grill. My husband has burned every hot dog, burger, and drumstick he’s placed on that thing.”

  “Ma’am, you don’t come between a man and his grill,” Isiah said, walking towards the three men in his lady love’s life. “Isiah Neary. Pleased to meet you all.”

  Xavier Leman stood motionless as the flames rose high around the meat. His attention was completely attuned to the six-foot-tall bearded white man in a plaid shirt and faded blue jeans with a pair of camouflage plastic slide in shoes on his feet. This man was nothing like he imagined his baby girl would date, let alone marry. The bearded boyfriend was the opposite of everything he’d known her to appreciate in a partner.

  “You have a beard,” Xavier said to Isiah.

  “Daddy, did you miss the fact that the man is white?” DeAndre wanted to know. The new boyfriend looked like a joke that his sister was playing on the family. He immediately disliked Isiah.

  “I saw that,” Xavier said. “I am looking at the beard.”

  “Sir, you are seriously burning that meat,” Isiah said. “It would be a shame to waste so much food.” The sizzle of the fire mingling with the smell of seared animal flesh turned his stomach at the lack of respect for the art of being the grill master.

  “That’s what I said,” Maya yelled.

  Javier, who rose as well, walked around the side of the house, looking for the car the bearded man drove. He only saw his niece’s vehicle, which made the protective uncle in him come out. The last thing she needed was a ne’er do well riding her dress tails.

  “You don’t have a car of your own?” Javier asked.

  “Well, my truck is a little big and noisy, so we drove DeShondra’s car,” he said to the nosy uncle.

  “What kind of truck?” Xavier wanted to know.

  “It’s a monster truck, honey. A big one too,” Maya interjected. DeShondra took a seat out of the heat, watching two of her nephews scurry about. Rafe, the second youngest at six years of age, changed the MP3 player to loud rap music which sounded like a group of wolves with a mouth full of peanut butter. Xavier ignored the children and the loud music, focusing instead on the type of truck the bearded man drove.

  “No shit? Do you drive a monster truck? Can I drive it?” Xavier a
sked.

  “Sure, if you can drive a standard, you can take it for a spin,” Isiah said, reaching for the tongs in Xavier’s hand. A spray bottle sat on the grill which he picked up and sprayed the flames. He adjusted the meat to the outer edges of grill, taking it from the direct heat.

  “You and DeShondra. I just don’t see it,” Xavier said.

  “See it, Sir. I plan to make us permanent with your blessing,” Isiah said, flipping the burgers.

  “Hmm, that would be interesting,” he said. “My baby is trying to conquer the world. She ain’t nothing like her Mama. Homemaking ain’t in her wheelhouse. If you are expecting to come home every day to a hot meal and the little lady waiting for you, then you’re mistaken. If you understand that and still are willing, then I wish you the best, but I need to hear that you understand she has a vision, a plan, and a goal she has every intention of hitting.”

  “I understand it just fine,” Isiah replied. “She can run the world if that is her wish and I will do everything in my power to make sure her vision comes to completion, but she has to understand, as well as you, that when she walks through our front door, she is nobody but my wife and the mother to our children.”

  “Listen to you talking all tough,” Xavier said.

  “I speak my mind, Sir,” he responded.

  “What is it that you do?” Javier wanted to know, looking Isiah up and down as if he’d ask to get the pin code to his ATM card.

  “I am the Assistant Director of Operations for the Department of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms,” Isiah said.

  “No kidding!” Xavier said. “I have got to hear how you two met.”

  “I look forward to filling you in on it,” Isiah replied, taking the hotdogs from the grill.

  The father was the easy win. It was her brother who was the hard sell. DeShondra mentioned she had a brother, but she never thought to tell him they were twins. Her father had a twin and so did she. His eyes went to her belly. What if?

  DeAndre saw the subtle shift in Isiah’s eyes to his sister’s stomach from eye-balling his father and uncle, then him. She is expecting the bearded man’s baby. They were getting married because the bearded bastard had knocked up his sister. It didn’t sit well with him.