by Love Belvin
Once upon it, I heard a nicker. Of course, I would; I was at a damn barn. But what animal did it come from? I slipped my phone in the pocket of my coat to focus on the mystery at hand. As I continued, a whinny sounded. I met a window and decided to see what was inside.
“Shit!”
I leaped back, nearly falling on my ass. I clutched my chest, feeling my heart beat violently against the wall.
A horse. Like… A real ass horse was in there!
“You okay?” a man’s voice further startled me and I shrieked. “You okay?” he repeated.
He stood with a plaid wool jacket on and denim overalls with rugged boots. At first glance, I could tell he was a… Farmer?
No…
“Oh! It’s you!” he shrieked excitedly and followed it with a toddler style leap in the air. “You finally came to see me!”
What have I gotten my nosey ass into?
He started toward me with zealous eyes and I began to back away. In my horror, I couldn’t coordinate my brain and arm to grab my phone. No way was one of the grounds people going to “happen” to be all the way back here. At one point, either I had to haul ass or stay still and face whatever I’d stumbled upon. He clapped his hands and laughed with child-like innocence.
Run for your fucking life, Wynter!
“Hey, Wynter!” he stopped abruptly, expression falling as well as his arms in a graceless manner. In fact, I quickly realized he moved without an ounce of elegance or pride similar to a…kid.
“How do you know my name?” I demanded.
He scratched his head, smiling shyly as he peered over his shoulder, embarrassed. “Because you’re my sis-in-love!” At the sound of his words, he leaped in the air again and clapped.
Again, his movements lacked refinement. And that’s when it hit me.
“What’s your name?”
“My name is Arnold Michaels, but friends and family get to call me Arnie.” Michaels… Michaels… Where do I know that last name from? He pointed to me with a high, bashful shoulder gesture. “You are my family.” A slow smile spread on his face.
It hit me.
Kevin. Kevin “Upper Cut” Michaels!
Then I thought what that meant.
Nooooooo…
The features in his face were familiar, and quite honestly, stunning. This man, who was clearly…different, resembled Ragee. Suddenly a flash memory of Pastor McKinnon hit me.
“That nice Earl made me oatmeal. Now, I’m going for a walk out back. Maybe see Arnie.”
I swallowed hard, my mind racing to pull it together. Arnie was good looking as hell, built with masculine height and width. He was arguably better looking than Ragee. While Raj was desirable with his rugged sculpted features, Arnie here was a pretty version of him. Like…damn good looking. So much that it immediately felt wrong to admit it considering there was something developmentally off with him—clearly. Guys with features and a build like his at this point in their lives knew they were the shit. Had been told by enough thirsty women they were Man Crush Every Day worthy.
Arnie removed his hat, bringing it humbly to his chest, and his face grew long. He’d picked up on my hesitation. And I also noticed he was graying. This was an older man.
What the entire hell…
“How are you related to Ragee?”
“I’m his big brother!” he claimed proudly, even stuck his chest out.
Brother?
No one had ever mentioned a brother. Not my research nor Myisha. I had no idea Raj had siblings. I guess I hadn’t searched hard enough to learn everything there was to know about my husband. Either that or this was one of many things he didn’t want the world to know, including me.
“C’mon!” He skipped toward me before I could process that demand, taking me by the wrist, and pulled me along. “You gotta see the horsies! Gee-Gee said he was gonna bring you back here and he was right!”
Flopping behind him, we entered a small doorway into what had to be the smelliest environment I’d ever experienced. I tried holding my breath until I realized I needed to do it to live. But it was fascinating. Horses, big and small moving about the building.
“This is the McKinnon-Michaels stable!” Arnie turned to me and pointed to my sternum with the hand not being used to hold me near to him. “That means it’s yours, too, now because you married Gee-Gee. Look over here!” He pulled me behind him gracelessly, but without pain.
“Ummmm…” I croaked. “Arnie, how old are you?”
He stopped and faced me, his expression lit with delight. “I just had a birthday on January seventh. That made me fifty-one years young.” His smile was bright.
It took a minute, but I fixed my features to match his. “Oh, nice!”
What a coincidence…
“And let me show you what Gee-Gee bought me!” He tugged at my wrist again and we were on our way.
We headed back out the barn, but through the main set of doors held open by fancy stoppers. Arnie pulled me onto a cart of sorts, similar to what you’d see on a golf course.
“Hold onto the bars. Okay?” he ordered, more like shouted in the manner an instructor would a class.
Then he started the engine and we were off. The first accelerated push was rough, but Arnie let up on the gas enough to smooth it out. My mind continued to race with what exactly was going on. What had I gotten myself into? I felt like I’d stepped into an alternate secret universe the moment I stumbled upon this gorgeous horse stable. And Arnie…
Oh, my god!
The boyish menacing expression he made while zooming us down a path that defined the outside of the structure, an off-set of the main property, confirmed his condition. He hunched over the steering wheel and squinted his eyes with the tip of his tongue peeking from his lips. Arnie was concentrating on the task.
This is Ragee’s brother…
We came to a curt stop that was just as rough as our takeoff. That unbridled smile opened again on his handsome face and he stretched his arms wide—too wide for the little motor vehicle.
“Ta-da!” he shouted. “This is one of my birthday gifts. Gee-Gee promised me a cart to help me get around the property faster.” Wistfulness lined his gorgeous brown eyes.
My eyes bulged and mouth dropped. Again. “Oh! This is…great,” I tried. “Really cool!”
“I know! Right? It zooms fast.” He turned and pointed to the left of him. “This is our dry lot. I make sure to keep up with it.”
I gazed at the large fenced-in area. “What’s a dry lot?”
“You don’t know what a dry lot is, Wynter McKinnon?” The fact astounded him. I shook my head with pinched lips. “It’s where the horsies go when it’s a little flooding or when they need to exercise.” He shrugged. “It’s their chill spot.”
I swallowed. “O—okay.”
Without warning, he hit the accelerator again and we were off until the next curt stop: a fenced, round enclosure at least six feet high.
“This here’s the bull pen. Gee-Gee likes to call it the round pen,” he shared before shouting to a woman leading a horse in the circular enclosure. “Hi, Mindy!” She’d already seen us and smiled in greeting. “I’m showing my sis-in-love around the McKinnon-Michaels horsie house!” He clapped, excited again.
“Cool thing, Arnie.” The short woman with a dark silky French braid running down her back tipped her hat. “Almost done with Roger here.”
“Okay!” Arnie trilled, and we were off again.
Arnie gave me a tour of the entire horse, or horsie property, as he’d called it. It wasn’t as big as the main structure where the big house was, but I reasoned it was just the perfect size for this man, who developmentally was no more than a child. I even met the six horses the McKinnon-Michaels family owned. I learned the names of them all, including their personality traits. There were about three other people on the property with Arnie, and although each one I’d seen had been busy with some form of work, I easily got the impression Arnie had the knowledge to care for the
animals himself and took lead on most. But it was also clear he couldn’t do it alone. Arnie had limitations, mental ones keeping him from being totally independent.
We arrived back at the barn, and just when I thought he’d invite me to see his ranch styled home, I learned he wanted to continue his time with me in another way.
“Are you going to have dinner with me?” He bounced on his toes, rubbing his hands together. Before I could speak, he pushed, “Supper is on the way by the chef at the main house.” Arnie neared me, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “You know he a lil different? He ain’t holy.” He waggled his brows, but not in a salacious way, though he was definitely implying something scandalous. Did Arnie understand Earl was gay? “Don’t worry. His food still good, though. Let’s go wash our hands—”
He was interrupted by the sight and sound of a shiny deep blue pickup truck pulling around the graveled driveway. I almost swallowed my tongue when the driver stepped out, looking as though he owned the place.
Because he did.
“Oh, Gee-Gee!” Arnie jumped up and down in his non-graceful form. “You kept your word. You brought my sis-in-love to see the ranch!” Then his face fell. “But you came late!” he growled.
Yeah, Arnie definitely had a problem with perception because he didn’t catch his brother’s face damn near blanch in mortal shock. Though frozen, I was immediately reminded of how similar his features were to those of his brother. Raj’s beauty was more rugged, but the muscles around his eyes and lips worked to make him more appealing. Arnie never used his, which was telling of his condition—whatever his condition was.
Arnie trekked over to the passenger side of the pickup and pulled out a large white shopping bag with a silhouette of Raj’s face on it. It was clearly a media bag for his business.
“Wynter,” Arnie called me as he headed toward the barn, “are you having supper with me? I have enough for you. And I have an extra chair in my office.” His steps choppy and not very coordinated, similar to a toddler’s.
But I didn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Not with Ragee glaring at me like he’d just caught me in his safe. I heard the door slam as my eyes were fixed on him. Finally, I could speak.
“Thanks for telling me you have a brother.” I swallowed nervously. Raj was always so serious. “I’ve been living here all this time and didn’t know I had a brother-in-law.”
…in-love, as Arnie declared.
Raj switched stances, his head angled just a little as his eyes narrowed. “That’s because this is his private nirvana. I had his dream environment built to keep him safe, happy, and protected from vultures.” He switched hips again. “The bullshit.”
“Well, lucky for you, I ain’t a vulture and not about the bullshit.”
His eyes roved down my body. “Really?”
“No. I’m not.” My tone was firmer. Nastier.
“Sister-in-love…” Arnie called from behind. “You going to have supper with me? That chef made a lot of food. There’s enough for us!” His child-like excitement thawed the steely resolve his little brother had just worked up in me.
“Nah, Arnie,” Raj answered then snorted. “Wynter don’t wanna eat with you. Just leave it alone.”
“Okay. Thank you for coming. Bye-bye!” Arnie shook it off and pit-pattered back into the barn.
“Who are you to speak for me?” I spat defensively. Raj cocked his head to the side, looking awfully handsome and I hated it. “Quite honestly, if he invited me to his dining room table and not near the awful smell of livestock, I’d take him up on his offer. I wouldn’t mind having dinner with Arnie. I actually think he’s cool and sweet.” My eyes rolled below. “He’s been more inviting and hospitable than the gatekeeper of this place.”
Super annoyed, I took off in the direction I happened upon this place.
“Hey!” He called after me.
With my back to him, I assured, “Don’t worry. I won’t be going to the media with the fact that you have a special needs brother. I’m still not that girl.”
“Nah.” His voice was so casual it had my steps falter. “I ain’t worried about that at all.” His tone wasn’t assuring, it was haughty, cavalier. I turned to face him. Raj shrugged. “I was just gonna remind you it’s getting dark out and offer to drive you back to the main house.” He tossed his chin to the sleek pickup. “By the time you get there on foot, it’s gonna be pitch black, and I don’t know all my neighbors yet.”
That justification was glib. Raj was being an ass again.
But that wasn’t enough for me to not heed his caution. I turned for the pickup.
12
I watched wildly fascinated as she smeared the last of her roasted sweet potato and arugula salad against the homemade salad dressing left on the plate. When she started chewing it and her eyes mindlessly came up, I moved mine to my grandmother at the end of the table, humming as she wiped her mouth and chewed the last of her food.
“Thank you, Lord,” she whispered privately.
My eyes swung over to Wynter, who was looking at me already. Again, I found myself attempting to “get her.” What was her angle? I’d seen her snappy and annoyed, but this mood she was in now, the one after having weaseled her way back there on my property… I expected her to judge me for having Arnie back there and ask why he wasn’t in the main house, or to be overly-sympathetic about me having a brother, who’s different and using that discovery to forge a “deep” relationship. But…no. The ride back was quiet, other than the engine and crackling road beneath.
She’d been reacting the same way she did when she met my—what had to be to her—peculiar grandmother, who liked community prayer, praise and worship, and Bible study. Wynter had given no reasons, over the past two weeks, for me to believe she was religious or a believer. But she sat respectfully through every “spiritual” session she had been invited to since the first night grandmother pulled up to the crib. She didn’t laugh, snicker, or wear any reaction on her face but kindness and acceptance.
So it seems…
Before meeting them down here for dinner, I went to all her social media handles and saw she only posted pictures of my wooded property, toward the back of the estate, before Arnie’s stable. She used the caption, #BlessingsAllAround, referring to the trees towering over her. On another she wrote, #HesTurningMeInToANatureGirl #McKinnonGirl. That one had me wiping a growing smirk from my face. I had to remind myself Wynter was just playing her part. There were no pictures of my brother or hints of her meeting him, and that made me happy.
“Wynter, baby, you look tired,” my grandmother observed.
Wynter pushed her plate up and exhaled, stretching out in her seat. “Because I am, Pastor McKinnon.”
Damn…
If she didn’t look…sexy explaining that on a moan, her arms in the air and chest pushing out. Why did that appeal to me? Why did my mind race to our workout sessions when she spoke little, but attempted every task I charged her with, without much complaint?
“You’re family, daughter.” My grandmother smiled shyly. “You can call me grandmother.”
Wynter’s eyes popped and she hesitated before speaking. “Oh, wow. Thanks. I’d prefer Grandmother McKinnon; at least…that’s close to what Raj calls you.” She looked across the table to me.
“It is, ain’t it,” Grandmother didn’t pose as a question. Her smile deepened. “You know…” She took a deep breath and tossed her head back, looking up at the ceiling. “The Lord has been dealing with me concerning the two of you.” Slowly, I looked over to Wynter and saw her eyes just as nervous as mine. “You know, He said, ‘The Lord your God chose you from among all other people on earth to be His treasured people. The Lord your God chose you from among all other people on Earth to be His treasured people.’” She rocked in her seat, face tight, and eyes still to the chandelier above. “It was over and over again, you know. And I asked Him, ‘Lord, what are You saying? I don’t understand. I know I’ve been staying in their lovely home and I’m sensitive to
their spirits and what’s attached to them, but what does this mean?’”
My heart began to pound at that. What was she about to say?
“So…” She crossed her arms, grabbing her chin, studying my expensive ass ceiling lamp. “…about last night when I was in meditation, He said even though it don’t seem like it now, He’s going to use you two to change the world! He said what started out as unpure and full of confusion is ordained to be a powerful partnership and addition to the Kingdom of Christ! Aye!” she shouted, clapping her hands.
This time, Wynter did have a reaction. I could almost read, do something right now! on her expression. Faintly, I shook my head. She needed to chill right now. You don’t object during a prophetic word being given—even if there is a load of bullshit involved.
“Yes, baby.” My grandmother leaned into the table. “No matter what order you did things in to get here, God is going to turn it for His good!” The authority in that declaration was unshakeable.
Grandmother was confident in her Word from the Lord.
“Au—are you suggesting I had premarital sex?” Wynter’s voice was unrecognizable.
“No, baby!” My grandmother shook her head guiltily because that was exactly what she was implying. “I’m not here to judge you. I’m just telling you what sayeth the Lord our God. The past is in the past! Hallelujaaaaaah!” she singsonged.
Here it is…
This was the time where Wynter would snap, lose it on my grandmother and all this shit building since October was about to blow.
This bat shit, crazy ass woman is telling me God told her I fucked her grandson?
I fought hard to school my expression. I knew how to do it. I had learned to work effectively with hardened criminals. This shit was getting out of hand. It was clear Ragee had the ultimate level of respect for this woman and she was highly respected in her church and family, but I couldn’t have false psychic readings. I wasn’t religious, but still didn’t play with God.
And neither did Raj, so I thought…
