“Holdie,” she called to him, “I want to get this place painted and these peace signs removed from of the arms of the Mr. Tuddlestrom and his friends.”
“Okay, Mom, but I don’t know the name of all of these garden gnomes, so I have no idea which one is Mr. Tuddle...whatever,” he told her.
“Tuddlestrom, Holdie. You remember him. He was one of the sect leaders who helped us to move to Georgia,” Alice said.
Holden had no idea who that was and didn’t care. The only thing he cared about right now was a few hours in Tallulah’s embrace. In her heat. Feeling her power.
“Gotta go, Mom. Love you both,” he said as he made a beeline to his truck. On the way to the mall, he made three phone calls to get estimates on painting the worn old double wide. In the past few years, he’d spent a great deal of time working on it, repairing holes and rotted floors. A few months back, he’d had new windows installed when he landed the new contract for Jacques Smyth’s new building, a large job set to start next week and last him six months. He had some extra funds from the contract award. He was going to spend some of it on his new girl.
Tallulah called at three. He wouldn’t get there until six. It was going to be a long night for her. It was the lady’s turn to feel the depth of his power.
Chapter Ten – Flowing Current
Six o’clock! That’s three hours from now. What am I supposed to do for three hours? This is a tactic. Some kind of ploy to regain some control after I put it on him on Saturday.
Saturday.
I have not heard from him since Saturday.
He hasn’t sent one annoying text with a stupid emoji. There were no middle of the night phone calls trying to sneak in for a quick fix. I asked for my space and he gave it to me. Dear Lawd, what am I doing?
Tallulah admonished herself as she went to her car and cranked the vehicle, heading to her favorite specialty store. She had already purchased him one surprise, but she wanted to add something else to the pile of goodies. What am I doing with this man? Whatever it is, I like it.
My Holden.
My everything.
Holden arrived at six on the dot, riding a motorcycle with an engine so sweet it could barely be heard as he drove it into the garage, the heavy rolled door coming down behind him, sealing him inside the domicile for the night. From the saddle bag, he removed a small gym bag with a fresh pair of clothing that included a clean pair of undies, a rolled up pair of jeans, and a wrinkled tee shirt. The door barely closed before he hefted her in his arms.
“It seems like ages since I last held and kissed you,” he told her. Calloused hands ran over her body, touching every active receptor on her skin. The loose fitting shorts she wore crinkled under his touch while hot kisses rained on her face. Tallulah legs wrapped around his hips, and she rubbed her body against his excitement.
“I missed you too, Holden,” she said to him.
“I don’t want to be rude, but...,” he said, trying to kiss her and walk at the same time, carrying her down the hall to her bedroom. “...we’ll have to talk later.”
She clung around his neck like a frightened child not wanting to let go of her father the first time in the pool, which freed his hands to unfasten his pants. The legs of the jeans bunched at his feet when he sat on the edge of bed, the readiness of his desire for her poking in between them.
“Tallulah,” were his last words before they consummated their desire for each other. The soft cotton fabric between her thighs was pushed aside as he lifted her hips, lowering her over him, sighing, grunting and holding her close. Heavy breathing ensued as Holden, for nearly twenty minutes, worked his body like an instrument of pleasure. Several times she cried out as she found a pocket in the midst of a sweet release only to be pushed further than she’d ever gone. The leather strip that held his ponytail freed his hair and the locks hung loosely, matted by sweat to his forehead, and he quietly ended the coupling with deep powerful strokes that brought Tallulah to a hearty, satisfying fourth release.
“Wow,” she said breathing heavily, clinging to him.
“Don’t hurt me like that again, please,” he mumbled into her neck.
She thought he meant Saturday night.
“I’m sorry. I will not tie you up anymore,” she said to him.
“No,” he said, rolling over to stare in her eyes. “Don’t push me away like I’ve done something wrong and make me wait three days to see you again. It’s not fair to me. It’s not fair to us.”
“Holden, I wasn’t trying to punish you.” Her fingers toyed with the hairs on his chest. “I needed time to sort through my own shit, clear my head, you know, and understand what this is....”
“It is a man and woman loving each other. I waited for you to come into my life. The moment I first saw you in your brother’s bookstore, I knew. I will give you as much space and time as you need, but don’t send me away like some child, sitting and waiting for you to call me to come over and play,” he said firmly.
“That wasn’t my intention,” she responded.
“That’s how I felt. Three days, Tallulah. I almost got fired from a job because of you,” he said with a half-smile.
“How is your inability to do your job my fault?”
“I was working on a home security system over the inside front window for Mrs. McGillicutty when my mind wandered. She was outside working in her flowerbed when my boner poked through the curtains in her living room. All I heard was her yelling and praying for me in whatever language that was...”
Tallulah burst out laughing.
“It’s not funny,” he told her. “My reputation is everything, especially when I have to go inside women’s homes. I don’t want to be listed as some perv. It’s a small town. You never live things down here. Small incidences will follow you like a pack of cats when you leave the fish market.”
She slowly pulled away to stand on the side of the bed. “I don’t know anything about being followed by a pack of cats but I have a surprise for you Come...” she said, holding out her hand. In the guest room, she opened the closet door to reveal six light blue polo shirts embroidered with “HOLDEN” in block navy blue letters. A lightning bolt was stitched between the L and the D.
He stood quietly, looking at the closet. There were also six pairs of jeans, two dress shirts, two pairs of dress pants, and a pair of black and blue khakis.
“But...wait there’s more,” she said in her game show voice. In the chest of drawers, she opened the top two drawers, which we filled with socks, underwear, and tee shirts. “I don’t plan to send you away anytime soon, Holden.”
His reaction wasn’t what she was expecting. He immediately rearranged the drawers separating the socks individually, rolling them military style and putting the drawer in an order which was aesthetically pleasing to his brain. The way Tallulah had set up the drawers made the right side of his brain itch.
“Wait, I have something for you, too,” he told her. From the rolled up pile of clothing in his bag, he removed a green box. “For you my lady.”
She opened it to find a beautiful emerald cut ruby, flanked by two small diamonds. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, “but why?”
“Beyoncé told me to get it,” he said.
“What?”
“I was driving, she came on the radio said if I like it...so I got a ring. I’m putting a ring on it,” he said.
“The song means a wedding ring, Holden. She meant a wedding ring,” Tallulah said softly.
“Only when you are ready, Doc,” he told her. “Right now, I just hope you’re ready for round two.”
A grin covered her face as she reached in the top drawer and removed a penis ring. “I like it, so I’m putting a ring on it as well.”
“Okee-dokee,” he said with a smile, chasing a giggling Tallulah back to the bedroom.
Chapter Eleven – Static Electricity
The grand opening of The Roxy: Books, Comics and More looked more like a red carpet affair in Hollywood. Everyone who was
anyone arrived to help break in the new store that was opened by Ethan and Janie. Alice descended the stairs with a platter of freshly baked wares.
“I have cookies!” Alice said as she tried to set the tray on the table for the new arrivals. She pulled back the cover and like ants, children began to materialize from everywhere. Parents did drive-bys, unloading mini-vanfuls of kids, along with loads of crumb snatchers from station wagons, BMWs, Fords, Mercedes, and everything else, including kids riding bicycles through the door at ten minutes of six. A kid who enjoyed cosplaying as Sméagol slid in the door sideways, dragging his right foot, climbing the stairs to the stage to follow Gandalf. He reached up to grab a cookie from the passing tray that Hester carried, called it ‘my precious,” and took his place on a stool on the stage.
“Come on in; come on in,” Ethan told the customers. It was Thriller Thursday and the book club was headed up to the balcony to meet. On the stage, Gandalf the Grey read to the Hobbits while the overhead projector layered the map onto the stage of the Shire. Ethan came up with the idea that instead of having a tabletop display like the one in Janie’s old comic book store, they would use the stage and project Tolkien’s map of Middle Earth onto the stage floor. As the action moved between locations, so did the map.
Jem, Meg, and Marta still manned the counters, with Henry manning the coffee maker on Thursdays. Hester worked alongside Alice in the upstairs kitchen, bringing down trays of freshly baked goodies. Holden, in black slacks and dress shoes, stood at the counter, leaning back on his elbows said nothing as he watched the turnout of well-wishers. He remained stoic. Observing.
Seldom did he wear his hair loose, or have it down on his shoulders, but tonight was special. It would be the first time he and Tallulah were out in public. Together. Secretly he was hoping for an open display of affection towards him that would let others know they were together. In three months’ time, they had never been to a movie, out to dinner, or shared a meal with friends. He didn’t even know her friends.
“What you doing lazing about with your hippie hair down?” Orlando Flynn asked in an accusatory tone.
Holden pointed to the floor and changing maps. “Admiring my handiwork,” he said.
“So what’s with the hair being down? Was it someone’s turns to pick the bugs out of or something?” Orlando jibed.
“Or something,” Holden said.
“I hope you aren’t thinking that having your Rapunzel going on over here is going to be some kind of catnip for all the cool kittens,” Orland said to him
Holden frowned at him. Normally, Orlando never got a rise out of him, but this evening, the man was being more than irritating.
“What are you talking about, Flynn?”
“Your hair, you limp wristed hippie!”
“Your wife likes it,” Holden said quietly, looking over Orlando’s shoulder, indicating someone was approaching them.
“Hey there, electrical man. I have never seen your hair loose. It is beautiful. Can I touch it?” Jacquetta asked him.
“Sure thing ‘Quetta. Feel free to run your fingers through it,” Holden said as he leaned forward. The thick mass of strawberry blond hair had more body than a professional wrestler.
“It feels like corn silk. It smells wonderful! What do you use?”
She asked him as she fondled his hair. Holden’s eyes remained affixed on Orlando.
“It’s a special shampoo I make from cucumbers and lemon extracts,” he told her.
“Jacquetta, get your hands out of his damned hair,” Orlando said through gritted teeth.
“Stop being such a bear, Orlando,” Jacquetta told her husband.
Holden was enjoying Flynn’s discomfort. “Would you like a sample of it, ‘Quetta?” he said with a wry smile. “The shampoo...would you like a sample?”
Jacquetta was happier than a snail in snot. Orlando Flynn was not amused. He didn’t find young Holden Cimoc to be particularly funny, but most of all he found his wife’s behavior to be ...he didn’t know what her behavior was, but he didn’t like it either.
“Jacquetta, my Mom is calling you over,” Orlando said, pushing his wife in the direction of his mother. Maggie Mae Flynn sat next to her husband Harlan, watching all the children coming in and out of the shop. The little boy dressed like a troll nearly made Maggie jump three feet in the air, only to be caught by Jacquetta.
Orlando’s eyes were still on Holden when his brother Woodson walked in the door. Woodson made a beeline for the two men, patting his brother on the back, then taking in Holden’s very clean appearance.
“Who are you stalking tonight, Hippie?” Woodson Flynn asked.
“Well, I think I’m going to wait for Christopher to get here so I can give all three of you Flynn boys the same answer, or can I tell you now since you all share one brain?” Holden asked.
“I don’t have a problem beating up hippies with pretty girly man hair or goat milkers, either,” Woodson said, but stopped. “Hey you fit in both categories don’t you, Holden?” Woodson gave him a twisted smile and walked away. Holden exhaled deeply because Orlando was still standing there.
“I take it you don’t have anyone else to mouth breathe on this evening, Flynn?”
“You think you are so clever with your prissy teas and fancy long hair. No woman is going to want to go to bed with a man that has nicer hair than she does or is prettier than she is, you hair-brained hippie,” he said to Holden.
“Thank you. I’m glad you think I’m pretty, but you’re not my type,” Holden said to him. Holden’s eyes were on the door, waiting for Tallulah. She should have been here by now. Orlando opened his mouth to say something else to Holden, but the door jangled and he watched the young man’s body language go from not even interested to full alert.
Orlando turned to see what had gotten the young man’s attention. Dr. Tallulah Strom walked in the door in crisp white linen pants, high heeled red bottom shoes, and a crisp pink blouse with her hair hanging loose. The perfect shade of red lipstick covered her lips and Holden’s heart pounded in his chest.
“Don’t even think about it, goat milker,” Orlando warned. “She is way out of your league. You need to put your little wire back in your pocket before you blow a fuse.”
Holden dismissed Orlando’s ribbing and walked toward the stairs to the kitchen to help his mother. He looked back at Orlando. “Two things. One, never underestimate the man standing in front of you, especially when you don’t really know very much about him. And two, you are an ass, Flynn.”
He walked past Tallulah, just close enough for her to catch a breeze of him, yet he was holding on to Flynn’s words. In his heart, he knew tonight would not be a coming out party for them. When she walked in the door, she didn’t even search the room for him. Instead, she looked for her parents and her brother. She didn’t look for me. I walked right past her and she didn’t even reach out to touch me to say hi. I’ve shared her bed and woken up with her for nearly three months. I am still only a sex toy.
His feelings were hurt. The pain came not only from the truth in Flynn’s words but also Tallulah’s actions. As obtuse as Orlando Flynn was, if he could see she was out of his league, why was he even bothering? I will only be a mild diversion for the woman until some black doctor she meets at a conference of black doctors or some shit with a bunch of alphabet behind his last name steals her away from me. He was sulking like a child when Tallulah walked up on him.
“Penny for your thoughts,” she said.
She laid out a ten spot on the counter.
“Lost in my own head, I guess,” he lied to her.
The doorbell jangled, ushering in a strong wind, too much cologne, and the tall black man wearing it. He was the good looking type with broad shoulders, brown skin, square jaw and a thousand-watt smile. Tallulah’s breath caught. So did Holden’s. I guess my time is already up.
“I don’t believe he had the nerve to walk in here,” she whispered.
“Is he your ex or something...”
/> “Hell, no! That’s nasty bastard can’t even come anywhere close to me. He is Tawny’s ex. That’s Buster Malone – the serial shitter,” she said with a frown.”
“The what?”
Her voice was lowered like she was drinking the cup of coffee she was handed. “He dated Tawny for over a year. He is Malone’s son. You know Doc Malone, the black dentist in town. Anyway, they broke up. A few months afterwards, Tawny kept finding poop in her front yard. She thought some stray dog had gotten out, but each time, it was getting closer and closer to her front door. Tawny had some camera thing installed and guess what?” she said with wide eyes.
“What?” His eyes were wide, too.
“It wasn’t a dog. It was Buster. He was coming by every morning in the wee hours and taking a dookie on her lawn,” Tallulah told him. “Do you know how much you have to hate someone to drop your pants and dookie in their front yard?”
“No, I can’t say I have ever experienced that kind of hate before,” Holden mumbled, trying to tamp down the laughter.
“I’m just saying,” she told him.
“Tell me what you are saying...tell me what you mean, Tallulah,” he asked. His blue eyes looked at the counter top out of fear that if he looked up, everyone in the room would know he was in love with her.
“I’ll be happy to tell you when we get home,” she said.
“To your home,” he said with a stern voice.
“If you have clothes in the closet and things in the drawer, it means it is your home, too,” she said to him.
An invisible home that no one knew where he lived. It was neither the time nor the place to bring it up, so he allowed the sleeping dog to lie in the floor. Fleas and all. He only hoped it didn’t get up and take a dookie in the yard. That would be plain ugly.
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