Thick Love

by Eden Butler

  “I didn’t know you could speak Creole,” he teased, stepping closer as we waited in line, ignoring everyone around us.

  “Just a few things my grann taught me. I can get by.”

  “You know,” he said, “I have some language skills.” I cocked an eyebrow at him and Ransom glanced at his parents. “Other than those…”

  “Jesus,” Keira cried, disgusted.

  “Don’t let him fool you, Aly,” Kona said.

  “Who’s fooling?” Ransom glared at his father but I knew the look was forced. “I can speak my language.”

  “Says the boy raised in Nashville.”

  He waved off his parents’ teasing, moving his attention back to me and licked his lips. “Pihaʻū oʻu mokukauaheahe i nā puhi,” Ransom said, all proud, as though he liked how big my eyes widened. It was an impressive mouthful, but then Kona laughed, and I spotted the way Keira rolled her eyes.

  “What?” I asked them, then looked back up at Ransom when they didn’t answer me. “What does that mean?” I asked Ransom.

  “Something very sweet and romantic,” he said, kissing me quick.

  “Oh lord,” Keira complained.

  Then Kona, as only Kona could, deflated the sweet moment. “How the hell is ‘My hovercraft is full of eels’ sweet and romantic?”

  We laughed at his expense and Ransom took it, immediately mouthing lines from Monty Python to connect the dots of that insane translation for me. His smile was easy and bright, and I held his hand to my mouth as the line moved. “You look happy today, sugar.”

  There was a hint of surprise in his expression then, as though he had only realized he was happy, then Ransom settled my hand on his chest. “Why wouldn’t I be? I got a beautiful lady on my arm and am about to devour the best gumbo in the world.” He moved closer, biting that lip again, because he knew every time he did it my breath caught somewhere in my throat. “But I really would rather devour the lady,” he whispered.

  “I bet you would.”

  He kissed me soft, slow and if I hadn’t heard Kona clearing his throat I probably would have let him continue on.

  “You’re holding up the line, brah.”

  “Sorry,” I tried but Ransom just shrugged.

  Around us the crowd separated, Rebirth Brass Band cracking the noise of the crowd with the ring of a trumpet. And then, the crowd turned and walked toward the music as the Second Line started up. There was nothing like it, nothing like this brass band and the Pied Piper way everyone followed. Funeral, wedding or just Carnival time, the music took the city, the traffic stopped, the chaos of any given day all paused and for just a few minutes as that music passed and the spirit of the city took over.

  “Perfect day,” I heard Kona say, holding Keira close. Like Ransom and me, he and Keira watched the crowd, and his smile, Keira’s soft expression, told me they were thinking the same thing I was—that nowhere else in the world was as magical as New Orleans.

  “Very,” she said.

  Behind me Ransom’s hold tightened on my waist and I moved back, my hips swaying as though I had no control over them. It often happened when a beat hit my ear. My body moved on its own, wiggled and shook like some old, ancestral part of me. Not thinking about how I moved, how I looked doing it, I danced where I stood, eyes closed as I let that rhythm climb inside my limbs.

  I’d only shaken my hips a little, shimmied as we watched the band pass by, but before they reached the bridge, Ransom let his hands rest on my hips as I moved.

  “You keep moving those hips like that and we’re gonna go find an empty alley.” Ransom’s voice was low, right against my ear, but his meaning clear.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, not really sorry at all. “I don’t even realize when I do it.”

  “I bet.” I stood still, as much as I could, only shaking my shoulders before I heard Ransom sigh. “Well don’t stop, baby.” He came closer, kissing my neck. “I like watching you move.”

  “I remember.” And I did, vividly, licking my lips when a quick flash of him on top of me, inside me shot into my mind.

  “You’re a fucking tease.”

  “Just a little bit.”

  “What was that ‘this is my…um…Ransom’ shit anyway?” There was a glint in his eyes I didn’t see often. It made him look as though nothing bothered him.

  “Well, what could I say? If I’d have called you my boyfriend that nosy old woman would have asked you a million questions and we’d still be listening to her yammer.” When Ransom’s mouth got a little tight I shook my head, laughing at that frown. “What?”

  “You didn’t explain what’s going on with us.”

  That surprised me. Ransom was the one that said he couldn’t promise me anything. I’d spent weeks just sticking to the rules. “Maybe because we haven’t discussed that.”

  “Do you want to?”

  My eyebrows went up simply because I couldn’t believe he’d brought any of this up. “I…I don’t need a label.”

  “You sure? None at all?”

  “Do you?”

  Ransom’s smile was subtle but it shifted and stretched the longer he watched my expression. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He hugged me tight, slipping his arms around my waist. “Let’s say we’re Fred.”

  “Fred?” I asked, unable to hold back my laugh. “Why Fred?”

  “It’s as good a name as any.” He kissed me, let his tongue brush about my lip. “You’re my Fred.”

  “And you’re mine, you insane bata.”

  He looked happy, eyes bright, smile easy and I realized it was the first time I’d seen him this open in months. My stomach fluttered when I thought it might be me that had made that happen.

  We stared at each other then and I was going to tell him I missed him, missed all of him. My resolve was running thin and I thought I might be ready to test the waters a little, get my feet, other eager body parts, wet. Then, Ransom glanced behind me and suddenly, all the color left his face.

  “What is it baby?”

  “I…”

  I turned around and saw a man near the crowd. He didn’t look like he fit in. He didn’t look at all like a Tremé local. He looked, in fact, like he belonged further Uptown in the Historic District where the “homes” were really “mansions” and the residents had gardeners and maids to keep their places up and drivers to get them around the city. This man had to be in his fifties, with pale skin, orangey red hair and long limbs. His cheeks were red, his eyes fiery and crystal blue and that hard rage in his gaze was centered on Ransom.

  When the man took a step toward us, Ransom pushed me behind him, with one hand still protectively wrapped around my hip. The gawking, angry man saw the motion, and my hand that had flown up to Ransom’s shoulder, and his thin upper lip curled into a snarl. He shook his head like seeing us together made him sick, like he wanted to pull us apart and keep us that way.

  “Ransom…who is that?” I whispered over his shoulder.

  I could guess, but Ransom didn’t answer and I could feel the hard tension pulsing through his body as Kona stepped in front of the man and blocked our view of him.

  “I have to go,” Ransom said, jerking out of Keira’s touch when she reached us. He didn’t look back as she grabbed for him.

  “Ransom, wait,” I said, following after him when Kona returned to Keira’s side. But Ransom didn’t wait, he barely paused when I grabbed his elbow. “Please.”

  “Go back with my parents, Aly,” he said, brushing off my touch with his gaze straight ahead. “They’ll take you home.”

  “What the hell is going on?” I glanced over my shoulder toward Kona who called after us. “Who is that man?”

  Ransom watched his father glaring at the man as he wove in the crowd, then looked away before he stepped back and toward the sidewalk.

  “Please tell me what’s going on…”

  “What are you doing with me?” Ransom asked, finally giving me a look. “Huh, Aly? What the hell do you want with me?”

  I frown
ed, a little stricken but didn’t hesitate. “Everything.”

  The play of emotions on his face told me so much. That instantaneous flash of pleasure at my honest answer, and then the fear, the disappointment took over. Like he thought anything he wanted, anything I wanted with him was hopeless. “That’s not…” He worked his jaw tight, the tension in his muscles moving over his face. Behind me, I felt Keira come up behind me, her fingers grasping my arm but Ransom didn’t bother to look at her. He kept his voice sharp and his words cruel. “I destroy every fucking thing I touch. You might as well get that into your head right now.” Then, he was gone without a backward glance at me or his mother, before his father could catch up with us.

  Kona approached, took a few steps onto the sidewalk to follow Ransom before he stopped and turned to stare back at Keira. “Wildcat, let’s go.”

  “Aly…” she started, holding my arm tighter, but I wouldn’t go with them to chase after Ransom. If he refused to take what I offered, then I wouldn’t chase after him. I did have some pride. But it hurt so damned bad.

  “No, go after him,” I told Keira, nodding when Kona held out his hand to her. She hesitated and then the big man narrowed his eyes, looking at me like he expected me to follow them. “No, it’s fine, Kona. Go ahead.” But Kona was, at the very least, a protector. I could tell by his frown and that concerned dip of his eyebrows that he didn’t like leaving me here. He didn’t need to worry. I was around my folk and I’d always looked after myself even when they didn’t.

  “Ransom…doesn’t want me with you all right now and you can’t leave Keira. Go. I’ll be okay.” Kona’s mouth tightened but I shook my head. “Kona, I grew up here. I know people. I’ll get back to Metairie tonight, don’t worry.”

  Finally, the man’s mouth relaxed a little. “I don’t like this. You call when you get back, Aly, you hear me?”

  “Yeah,” I said, touched that he was worried about me, that he spoke to me like I was their daughter and not just the sitter. “I hear you.”

  “Baby, come on,” he told Keira. “Let’s go get him.”

  Keira kissed my cheek, brushing off her husband’s hand on her shoulder. “He didn’t mean it, sweetie. He’s a little…lost.”

  I nodded, but needed to satisfy my curiosity before they left. “Before you go, tell me. Who was that?” I asked Keira, glancing back toward the crowd where the angry man had disappeared.

  She sighed, her breath moving the hair off my shoulder. “Patrick Warren. Emily’s father.”

  22

  Time alone, that’s what I needed. Time to sulk without distraction.

  I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit how much I loved Ransom. He’d rescued me. He kept me under some sort of spell that made up the past year and a half of my life. I wanted him unlike I wanted anything else in my life. But I couldn’t be who I wanted to be, couldn’t completely dispel the predictions my father had made about me being stupid and pointless, if I allowed Ransom to dictate who that person would be.

  As much as I loved Ransom, I had to love myself just a little bit more.

  Me zanmi, it was so damn hard.

  Still, I didn’t need Ransom making attempts to barge into my place. Not as exhausted as the day had made me so I screwed that flippin’ laundry access door shut. It took twelve screws and a few minutes to figure out how to work the drill Leann kept in her office, but now I could keep Ransom out of my place.

  For tonight.

  Maybe forever.

  “I’m home,” I’d told Keira when I called to let them know I’d finally made it back from Tremé—Millie’s granddaughter had taken me to the bus station and twenty minutes later I was back in Metairie.

  “Good, sweetie. You lock your doors, now.” She sounded tired, and the night, maybe, the worry over Ransom, had her voice cracking when she spoke. “I wish you would have come home with us.”

  “Don’t worry, Mama,” I teased, hoping the affection in my voice wasn’t obvious. “I can take care of myself.”

  “You’re full of shit.”

  “Maybe,” I said, laughing. Keira never minced words. Then she yawned, and I laughed despite myself. “Go get some sleep.”

  “You don’t wanna know what happened with Ransom?”

  Keira was fierce, she didn’t sugarcoat a damn thing, and she could be a little pushy. But I knew it was because she cared and that she thought I was what Ransom needed. Still, I didn’t want Keira or Kona in my business. “Keira, if he wants me to know, he’ll tell me.”

  “Don’t give up on him, Aly.” She took a breath as though it was more than the day or her pregnancy making her exhausted. “Ransom was born old. And he kept getting older. I guess I depended on him more than I should have and with everything he’s been through, all that damn struggle, he sees the world a lot differently than most kids his age.” Another breath and Keira’s voice went soft. “You can relate, I know. Please just remember that you matter a lot to him.” She paused. “You matter a lot to all of us. We love you.”

  When I’d come back to the lake house after Ransom and I got all the fighting out of our systems, I’d seen the quick relief on Keira’s face. Her world had changed so quickly in three short years. She’d gone from being a single parent for sixteen years, to marrying her college sweetheart, to having another baby and she’d admitted to me that it had taken her way out of her comfort zone. “Sometimes I can’t keep up. You help with that.”

  In her voice just then, I heard the worry that that Ransom’s dismissal would have me running out on them again. But I wouldn’t do that to her. Not just because he was retreating to the past again—I couldn’t abandon them again.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Good,” she said through an exhale

  “But your son pisses me off.”

  That laugh was relieved and totally unsurprised. “Oh, honey, he pisses off the world. You’re in it.”

  “Not tonight, I’m not. Tonight I’m on planet sleep.” I was already making sweet eyes at my bed. The day had taken its toll.

  “Come early tomorrow, okay sweetie?”

  “I can’t,” I reminded Keira. December loomed and with it came the recital. Leann was gearing up for some military-level rehearsals. “We’ve got to rehearse, remember? Kona’s doing remote office hours tomorrow.”

  “Damn, that’s right. Okay. Well, I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

  I hung up with an offer to bring her beignets on Wednesday morning and was just crawling into my bed when I heard the soft tap on the door outside.

  That man was stupidly stubborn.

  I didn’t run to that door, wasn’t willing to fling it open and let Ransom make his apologies. Some other day, maybe, but I was just too damn tired for that.

  “Aly?” he asked, voice low and a louder knock sounded against the door.

  For a moment, I listened, waiting to see if his voice would get louder, if he would put up some sort of fight, demand I let him in. Ransom had a temper, but he wasn’t the pounding-on-the-door, aggressive asshole type. Not that I had seen.

  He knocked again and I swore I heard his sigh from across the room. “I know you’re in there.”

  One tiny thump, as though he rested his head against the door and then he went quiet. Locking up the access panel had been pointless. He wouldn’t try to get in. Not tonight, not when he was the one who had pushed me away. Not when it was me that got the brunt of his endless punishment.

  He knew better than to insist and so Ransom just stayed on the other side of my door. His shadow moved on the stairway, standing like some sort of vapor against the street light.

  When I came closer, that shadow had lowered as though Ransom leaned against the door and because I couldn’t stop myself, because having only a thin, wood door separating us was as close as I would get to him, I leaned against it too.

  “I don’t want to be this way,” he said through the door, as though I hadn’t heard it from him before. “This weight, Aly, it chains me to the past and I know
what you think about me, but it’s not true…I don’t want to be there. I just can’t seem to break away from it. I’ve…I haven’t ever had the nerve to tell that man I’m sorry for killing her. Sometimes I…well. I guess it doesn’t matter, does it? I’m a coward.”

  My eyes squeezed tight, I fought with that voice in my head, the one that sounded like the Logical side of my brain. Love wanted me to open the door, but Logic stood blocking it. Instead, I moved my palm to the door imagining the feel of his shoulders, that warm strength he poured into my skin anytime I touched him.

  “I’m a selfish bastard. Especially when it comes to you. I don’t want to push you away but I’m petrified I’m gonna hurt you and the last damn thing I want is to hurt you, sweetheart.”

  On the other side of the door the wood planks on the steps shifted and when Ransom spoke again, he sounded closer, his voice deeper. “You make everything quiet, give me such peace. You make me want to protect you because you fill my heart up, even though I know you can cover your own ass. You’re stronger than me, braver and I envy you. I wish to God I could be like that.” He got quiet again, voice coming out a little gruffer. “You’re my Fred, baby. Even though I know you can do better. Even though I know you should. But…I want to kiss you.” His fingers slid down the wood, that’s what I guessed that noise was, like he needed to touch something. “I want to sink inside you, get lost, let you get lost in me. Over and over again, until we’re both numb. Until that ache stays in our bones. I want you to feel me so bad that when you walk away from the bed, when you wake up the next day, you still feel me in your hips, in that sweet, sweet pussy.”

  I closed my eyes, letting my mind illustrate all the things Ransom said he wanted. They matched what my instinct pushed me toward, what Logic told me I didn’t need.

  “I shouldn’t want that. I should just leave you alone and keep out of your head, but fuck I don’t want that. I just…my head tells me it’s the right thing to do. My head tells me that you don’t need the heartache I bring, but fuck, sweetheart, I don’t know if I can stay away. I told you, I’m a fucking coward.”