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Buckeye and the Babe

Page 17

by Olivia Gaines


  Gabriel exhaled, pondering his words carefully. “Tameka, many people confuse the understanding of the words faith and faithful. I prayed with the understanding of my faith that my brother would be given meaning again in his life. The better question is, what did your faith tell you was coming to your aid?”

  “That is a good question,” she said smiling at him, “my faith told me to be strong and wait for the opportunity and that help was coming. I prayed every morning thanking Him for waking me and every night for deliverance.”

  “In your daily prayers, then you were faithful in your regime,” he said, reaching over to touch her hand. “I hope you have continued your daily conversations.”

  “I have,” she said with a smile.

  “Since your prayer was answered, I have the faith that you will take good care of your gifts,” he said with a warm smile.

  “I will do just that,” she said, leaning over to give him hug. “Please do the same with yours. The exterior is tough, but inside, she is all mush.”

  He didn’t respond to her words as he watched her walk away. The old door banged as it closed behind her and he made a mental note to tell Zeke to oil the hinges. It was time for them to depart, but he needed a word with his brother before leaving. He peered through the window watching his wife stare absently at her friend as she held the same cup of coffee she poured an hour ago. She too was ready to leave the mountain.

  The coffee grew cold in the crooked mug she held as she sat on the couch, watching Michelle as her mother took a shower in a puddle of water filtering through a nozzle in the bathroom. Gabriel and Zeke used the time wisely, and she watched her husband meticulously draw out plans for the expansion of the cabin. His rendering, nearly blueprint quality, provided schematics for every electrical outlet, door, and hidden closet.

  Each day, Gabe and Zeke walked the property, discussing new security measures, lighting, and the felling of one or two trees. Gabe held the other end of the measuring tape as they walked, measured, made notes, and added to the drawings. On Friday evening, both men were satisfied with the layout for the new home.

  Saturday morning, over coffee, they spoke absently about matters which were left unfinished. Gabriel wanted his brother to approach the topics in his own time, without any prodding. He entered the conversation with care.

  “I think you should add a loft,” Gabriel said. “It will provide extra storage and later can become a playroom for Michelle.”

  “I’m trying to scale back,” Zeke said.

  “Yeah, but you still have a house full of furniture in D.C.,” he told him. “When are you planning to come up and get it?”

  “Not until after the build is complete,” Zeke said. “I do have to come up soon to get Tameka’s things and her car. I’m going to stop by Bleu’s so he can meet my wife as well, maybe stay the weekend with him before coming up.”

  “I’m stopping by to check on him myself,” Gabriel said. “I want to be in my own bed tonight, so we are going to get moving.”

  “Thanks for all your help,” Zeke spoke softly.

  “All you ever have to do is ask, and I will be there for you,” Gabriel told him.

  “You’ve changed,” Zeke said.

  “No, you have softened,” Gabriel replied. “Life has always been black and white for you with no greys. You are purpose-driven versus process or spiritually driven. Finding new meaning in your life has softened your hard edges and made you less of a smelly butthole. I actually like you.”

  “So, you are telling me you didn’t like me before?” Zeke asked with one eyebrow arched.

  “I love you as my brother, but you have never been my friend,” Gabriel said. “I guess since we are so different that this cabin became our only common bond. Is that why you chose to stay here?”

  Zeke stepped out on the front porch. His eyes skimmed across the mountainous range, squinting out the early sun rays. The cabin did represent something for him. Happiness. Something he had known very little of until a pregnant woman showed up on his doorstep asking for help.

  “Coming here always made me happy. It gave me peace,” he said.

  “You deserve peace and so much more,” Gabriel replied. “I hope you and your family are happy here. Please call me if I can do anything at all to help you.”

  Zeke’s eyes were teary as he looked at his younger brother. The one thing he never asked him for he wanted Gabriel to do for him. He needed his counsel.

  “I am out of my depth here and coming up on a milestone with my wife,” he said. “We are approaching the six-week mark, but I just don’t know if she is ready...I’m ready. Boy am I ready. This part I know how to do, it’s just the part that comes after that I am afraid I will fail miserably.”

  “I highly doubt that woman in there feels you could fail at anything Zeke,” he said, noticing the pronounced shake of his right hand. “Let me ask you this. How many babies, including Michelle, have you delivered?”

  “Including Michelle? Just her,” Zeke said, the threat of tears stinging his eyes.

  “The way you tied off the umbilical cord, sewing up Tameka, taking care of her and getting her on her feet, and introducing her to friends, Zeke, tells me you seemed to handle it all very well,” Gabriel said to his brother.

  “Yeah, and I’m scared shitless,” he said. “I want to pack them both up and start driving for DC to keep them safe. Staying on this mountain is stupid, but I don’t want to leave, yet I am more terrified of being a husband and father to them than I was with a gun pointed point blank at my face. I was always happy here. I am happy now and it...the thought...”

  Gabriel walked onto the porch, standing beside his big brother, his hand on his shoulder. “Would you like me to pray with you, Zeke?”

  The tears came on suddenly from the man who had always been a rock. A rock for the those he protected and a solid rock when danger was near. The pressure of dealing with so much in such a brief period crushed him as he turned to Gabriel, flinging himself into his brother’s arms, breaking down, his body wracking with sobs.

  Trying to remain strong, Gabriel held Zeke as he got it all out. He didn’t pat Zeke’s back or offer words of consolation but lent a pair of sturdy arms which yielded more than his words ever could. Gabriel helped his brother take a seat in the old rocker on the front porch. Zeke’s right hand trembled more as he placed it inside of his Gabriel’s warm touch. The prayer was not long, winded, or full of pomp, but simple in encouragement while requesting power for understanding. Before he left, the journal in which he’d been making notes in was given to his brother.

  “I’ve been working on this for you,” Gabriel told him. “This is my wedding gift.”

  Zeke opened the journal, his eyes scanning over of the Bible passages, scriptures, and life lessons Gabriel had written inside of it, chronicling instances from their childhood. His brother had left room for personal notations on each page, and there were sketches on the bottom of the alternating sheets of him, Gabe, or Isiah.

  “This means a great deal to me,” Zeke told him, holding the book to his chest. The sketches coincided with the memories of the brother’s fishing, riding the ATV’s, the first cold beers with their father or having story time in the cabin with their mother. Zeke’s hand went to his face, wiping away the doubts that had trickled down his cheeks.

  “Zeke, you mean the world to me,” Gabriel responded. “We will see you soon.” He called for his wife, who had been inside the cabin saying goodbye to her friend.

  CABRINA WAITED INSIDE the cabin for her husband to have prayer with his brother. In some ways, she wished her relationship with the Almighty was stronger and she could do the same for Tameka. Her only thoughts were getting out of the one-bedroom cabin and seeing where she was going to spend her life with Gabe and moving forward. We are going to need new friends. My course has run the distance with this one. I also have to explain to my parents that I married a man I didn’t know. No, I don’t. I just have to introduce them to my husband.
/>   Tameka moved closer to her friend, taking a seat on the couch. She didn’t want to leave things as they stood between them. The energy was different and she was uncertain if it was in a good way or otherwise. She cleared her throat.

  “If we were home, I would be on my way to the post office to drop off this week’s sales from your Etsy store. I assume your business is doing well?” Tameka asked.

  Cabrina only added a smile, a nod and a glance out of the door. She was ready to leave. Get moving. Get the hell out of the little house on the mountain.

  “I’ve never seen you so quiet, Cabrina,” Tameka said. “Normally, you have an opinion on everything and everyone.”

  “If you are happy, then I am happy for you,” she told her.

  “Just like that?” Tameka asked. “No smart remarks, I told you so, or when are you going to give that poor man some sex?”

  “If it is all the same with you, I don’t need any details on your sex life,” Cabrina said with a smile. “However, he is a looking a bit dry around the mouth. Every time you pass by him, he watches your ass like he wants to take a bite out of it or he has to touch you or kiss you. You might want to hook that man up.”

  They shared a laugh.

  “Cabrina, I’m sorry I left you, but I had to in order to grow. I mean, the past year isn’t the Rumspringa I would advise to any woman, but I truly feel like I am a grown woman now. Michelle is my beacon of light, Zeke is whew, a helluva man and I’m happy,” she confessed.

  “This past week has been life-changing for me as well,” Cabrina replied. “I am married, and I also found out from Sharon that I have a bad case of sarcastic bitch face. That, I am working to change.”

  “Initially, when you walked in the door, I was dreading it. I felt like I was going to have to explain myself all over again to you.”

  “You have never been required to explain yourself to me, then, now or ever,” Cabrina said. “It’s time for me to let go. I love you, but I am letting go.”

  “Please don’t let go of me. I still need you, but not in the old way. Can we make a new way, a new friendship ‘Brina?”

  “We have no choice,” Cabrina said. “This past year has made us both two totally different people.”

  “I will admit though,” Tameka said giving her friend the side eye, “I want to be a fly on the wall when you tell Pops, ‘Daddy this is my husband.’ He is not going to handle it well at all.”

  “He will have to accept what is done,” she said with a double meaning.

  “Please send them my love and my thank you for everything,” Tameka added.

  “Of course,” she said, looking about the cabin one last time. Cabrina stood up, looking out the window for her husband, who stood on the porch with his brother. The words spoken between them were inaudible but the body language whispered volumes. She hated to pry, but she grabbed her phone and snapped two very significant photos. One of Gabriel holding his brother. The other of her husband having prayer with his parishioner.

  Cabrina was ready to leave. It was time to go to her own home to nest and plan for her life without Aisha. She wanted to see the house to decide which room would serve as a playroom for the children she would bear for her husband as well as how many guest bedrooms, bedding, and dishes she would need to bring to make the house her home.

  In the last week, she’d learned a great deal, not only about real life but also about herself. Even if Sharon believed her husband to be a puppet of the CIA, the man she knew was more than that. Each tree is known by its own fruit, her father would always tell her.

  “A good tree doesn’t bear bad fruit,” Nelson Robinson told her. She felt the same way about her husband. No matter what had been thrown at them, he managed to blend in or add to the conversation. Leaving the confining living room, she shook Zeke’s hand, but instead, he offered her a hug and whisper in her ear to take good care of his brother. She hugged Tameka, kissed Michelle and promised to send gifts.

  The car felt like a safe haven after three days in the cabin. Gabriel tooted the horn before making the descent down the mountain starting the last leg of their trip. So many conversations were being had yet she wanted, no needed to get out her head and add to the script.

  “I want to add to the dialogue,” she said aloud.

  “Are you okay over there, Mrs. Neary?” He asked as the car rolled down the mountainside.

  “Yes, Mr. Neary,” she said. “I’m ready to go home.”

  Chapter 19 – Bleu, His Damned Grass and Those Shots of Bourbon

  The drive to London, Kentucky had gone smoothly, making the four hours drive a refreshing break. The lush, blue-green grasses of Kentucky filled the air as they pulled into the driveway of a beautiful white farmhouse trimmed in red with real shutters. Two over-sized rockers sat on the front porch, with cushions that welcomed any passerby to stop in for a cool glass of lemonade and a freshly baked cookie. The brother she’d met in Las Vegas didn’t look like he would live here.

  The grass was cut so perfectly that it appeared as if someone had gotten on their hands and knees to ensure each blade was evenly snipped. The white fence went all the way around the house and two broodmares grazed in a far-off field. Cabrina, almost mesmerized by the grass, kicked off her shoes to walk barefoot through the front lawn. She had only taken three steps when Gabriel grabbed her around the waist, lifting her body high and setting her feet back on the driveway.

  “My brother is worse than Rand Paul’s neighbor about his grass,” Gabe told her. “Don’t step on his grass or touch his Bourbon, unless he offers first.”

  “Okay,” she said, slipping her shoes back on her feet.

  “He might be out back,” Gabriel said. “I didn’t give him an exact time for our arrival.”

  His keys jangled as he placed a shiny silver key into the locked glass storm door and opened it. A different key was used to open the main door, painted in a shiny black trimmed in red. She loved the contrast between the white house, the red trimmings, and the black door.

  “Gabriel, shouldn’t we ring the doorbell? I mean, although you have a key, you don’t live here,” she said. She followed close behind him as he let himself into a fashionably decorated living room and saw a pair of high heeled red shoes on the floor. The shoes were the first sign Isiah had company. The other pieces of clothing which trailed to the bedroom were the others.

  “Gabriel, we should leave,” Cabrina said, backing up.

  “Nonsense, he is expecting us,” Gabriel said as he turned, spotting a flash of metal. One hand pushed Cabrina to the couch while he rolled low across the floor, sweeping his leg and taking down the man with the gun. He did it all in two moves and his third move left Gabriel on top of the man, the gun in his hand pointing it at Isiah’s face.

  “You’re getting slow, little brother,” Gabriel said, getting to his feet and lending Isiah a hand off the floor.

  “And you should ring my damned doorbell,” Isiah grumbled. “Next time I am going to shoot first.”

  Isiah rolled to his side, looking at Cabrina through his brother’s arm which pinned him to the floor. “Welcome,” he grumbled, pushing Gabriel off of him. “I’ll make lunch.”

  Her eyes were wide as she tried to process how fast and fluidly her husband moved. Like a cat. A ninja cat. A ninja cat assassin. Is it true? Gabriel is a covert assassin for the CIA.

  “What are you two, Cato and the Pink Panther?” DeShondra asked, coming from the back room, “rolling around on the floor like a bunch of fools.”

  Cabrina was so busy thinking about Gabriel’s moves that she didn’t pay much attention to the lady who had come out of the back room wearing what she assumed was one of Isiah’s shirts.

  “Hey, DeShondra,” she said absently.

  “Girl, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” DeShondra said. “How is our friend Tameka doing? And the baby?”

  Cabrina blinked several times, looking at DeShondra but not seeing her. After a few finger snaps from DeShondra, Cabrina came
out of her fog. Wanting to question, but the signs of the pantyhose and other items on the floor answered the other visuals she was processing. She fixed her face so she didn’t appear to be in judgment, standing to give her friend a hug.

  “Tameka and the baby are doing well,” Cabrina said. “The lady even got her yellow wall with happy family photos. Michelle, that’s the baby, is adorable. I fell in love with the little darling. Tameka is happy in her new life as a mail-order bride.”

  “Hell, so are you it seems. You have a glow about you and are relaxed,” DeShondra said. “You have even managed to rid yourself of Resting Bitch Face 3.0. Good for you, Boo!”

  “You and Isiah seem to be hitting it off,” Cabrina said, following DeShondra to the kitchen.

  “No, that man knows how it to hit it and get me off. I swear, I did not know a woman could cum that many times in a row and not die or at least get dehydrated,” DeShondra said.

  Cabrina frowned, responding, “Sometimes, you share entirely too much.”

  “And you, my sister, don’t share enough,” she replied while removing two bottles of water from the fridge while Cabrina froze in her tracks, mesmerized by the entire wall of bottles of Bourbon. Shelves from one end of the kitchen to the other, in varying heights, displayed years of a collector’s obsession. One special bottle sat in the middle of the rows of shelves, gently lit, which looked older than the sands of time.

  “Wow! That is some collection,” she said. “The one in the middle, what is that?”

  Isiah, entering through the back door, minus a shirt, grunted. “That is a bottle of Michter’s Celebration Sour Mash Whiskey, bottled right here in good ole Kentucky,” he said with pride.

  “Isn’t that like a four-thousand-dollar bottle of whiskey?” Gabriel asked.

 

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