Ten minutes later we’re still on the kitchen floor, going at it like rabbits. “Guess my dancing wasn’t all that unsexy,” she says between groans.
“It was unsexy, but then it changed,” I huff out, pounding into her.
“What changed?”
“Bouncing tits. That’ll do it every time,” I tell her.
“Wait until I start twerking.”
“Dear god, please, don’t do that. I’ve gotta get off now. That kinda talk gonna shrivel my dick,” I tell her, working even harder at it.
“We don’t want that, now do we?” she says and wraps her legs around my ass. Whoo boy. Pussy don’t get no finer than that.
Another five minutes and we’re both lying there in the floor, panting. “I know why we don’t get anything done,” I tell her.
“Yeah?”
“Because we’re too busy fucking.”
“Well, if I’m gonna waste time, I’d like to waste it doing that,” she announces and leans over to kiss me.
“Babe, any second I spend with my cock in that pussy is not wasted time,” I tell her as I kiss her back. “Not one second of it.”
* * *
There’s a flurry of activity in the apartment. Boxes are being moved around, drapes are being hung, bedding is being washed.
Carly is coming.
Rayanna is beside herself with joy. Trish and Sheila have been here for two days helping her get everything ready. At least we don’t have to put kid locks on everything, but we’ve sure done a lot of other things. I’m getting my work done, but barely, and Rayanna helping Cirilla has been put on hold.
When I get home, the place is quiet. I can hear the shower going, so I step into the little bedroom and look around.
It looks like a fairytale dream room for a little lady. Girly things are everywhere. The ivory furniture is beautiful, there’s a cute little fuzzy rug on the floor, and shelves and cubbies are everywhere. I’m really happy to see books on the shelves, and I also notice that the toys I’m seeing are mostly educational in nature. If I had to guess, I’d say Sheila’s responsible for all that. The decorating looks like something Trish got up to her earlobes in. No doubt Rayanna was so turbocharged by the whole thing that she was useless.
“What do you think?”
I jump about a foot. “I didn’t hear you behind me.”
“That’s because I’m quiet as a mouse. So?” she says, sweeping an arm out toward the room while holding her towel with the other hand. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful. She should love this.”
“Good. I thought we did good. Oh, and Trish let me drive her van and she said I did great.”
“That was really nice of her.”
She smiles. “Can we send them something for helping me? You know, like you did for Boone and Melina after my party?”
“Of course! Whatever you want to send.” She’s become an extremely thoughtful person over the last few weeks. I don’t think she was ungrateful before. I just think she was unaccustomed to anyone doing anything nice for her, and she didn’t know how to react. But when I let her pick out that huge basket of fruit and candy for the Lawsons, it really tripped something inside her. She’s been sending people thank-you notes ever since. It’s kinda cute, really.
“Can I find something on that big store on the internet and have it sent to them?”
“Sure. They have gift notes they’ll send with things. I think that would be nice.”
“Great. I’ll work on that tomorrow.”
“Isn’t tomorrow your GED test?” She nods. “Let’s just concentrate on one thing at a time, okay?”
“Okay.” As she’s heading back toward our room, she calls out, “I don’t think I’m going to have a problem.”
I sure hope she’s right.
She’s back in two seconds. Without a word, she wanders across the room, kisses my cheek, and walks back out. I know she found my note.
Dearest precious girl,
No matter what happens tomorrow, I couldn’t be prouder of you. You’re doing so much work in such a short time to meet your goals, and I’ve never seen anybody work harder. I know you’ll pass, but if you don’t, it won’t be from lack of trying! In a world where there are few real heroes left, you’re my heroine, baby. You’re a superstar in my book.
Yours truly and forever,
Lucien
* * *
She drove to the adult learning center, but she’s crying so hard that I have to drive back. “It’ll be okay, babe. You’ll just have to try again.”
“But I did try, Lucien! Two points! I failed by two points!” She’s wailing, so I just stop the car and pull her across the console so I can hug her tight. “Two points!”
“What was the problem?”
“They won’t let us have a calculator. There’s this calculator on the website and we have to use that, but I couldn’t figure it out! I just kept putting things in and it said suntax error,” she whines.
“You mean syntax error?”
She nods. “Uh-huh. Syntax error. I don’t even know what that means.”
“It means something’s out of order somewhere. Didn’t they give you instruction on how to use it before the exam started?” She shakes her head. “I think I’ll make a couple of calls.”
“No! Don’t! I need to do this myself!” And then she starts to bawl again.
“Babe, if the reason you messed up was because there were no instructions given for the online calculator, that’s not your fault and somebody needs to know that. If you don’t learn how to use that, you’ll fail it again.”
“I can’t fail it again!” she cries, and I feel so bad for her. She’s done extremely well in the prep work and both of us were sure she’d pass it. And two points? That’s hardly failing. I make up my mind I’ll go by the testing facility one day and ask them to show me the thing. If I know how to use it, I can easily show her.
My arms are long enough that I can reach into the back seat, and I grab the box of tissues I keep there. “Here. Wipe your eyes and blow your nose, and we’ll figure this out together, okay?” She just nods. “And pull yourself together. Carly will be here later, and you have to be ready when she gets here.”
“My only bright spot,” she murmurs through her tears.
“What, I’m not a bright spot?” I say with a chuckle.
“Yes! You are! You know what I mean,” she says, sniffling.
“I do. I’m not making fun. I’m just trying to give you some perspective. Let’s go over to Anderson’s Deli and get one of those sandwiches you like before we go home.”
She takes my hand, lifts it to her face, and kisses the back of it. “Okay. I love you, Lucien,” she says when her lips leave my skin.
“I love you too, Precious. Let’s go.”
* * *
She is absolutely, positively adorable, all three feet of her. Her hair is a medium brown and almost waist length. She’s got that tiny bit of roundness about her eyes like Rayanna’s, the only hint that there’s any Asian heritage in her background, and a huge smile broken only by a gap here and there where she’s lost a baby tooth. I just stand there and grin at Reagan and Terry as we watch mother and daughter at our front doorway, Rayanna on her knees, clutching the little girl to her. Neither of them make a sound. It’s like they’re afraid to, like that will break the spell that’s brought them together.
After they’ve had a chance to cling to each other for a minute or two, I quietly say, “Would you like to come in and have some coffee? Or tea? Or something else?”
“Would that be okay? We don’t have to be at the airport for another hour,” Reagan says.
“Sure! Come on in.” I lead the way to the living room. “Have a seat and tell me what you want.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Rayanna announces and hustles into the kitchen. “Carly, baby, do you want anything? We have some Fruity Juice.”
“Yeah! Fruity Juice! I love that!” the little girl cries out.
“Okay. Everybody else give me their orders,” Rayanna sings out and busies herself grabbing glasses and such.
“This is a nice place,” Reagan says, glancing around.
“Sure is,” Terry adds.
“Thanks. I’m buying a house, but this is pretty nice for now.”
“Buying a house! That’s great!” Reagan is a pretty woman, not as pretty as Rayanna, but pretty in her own right. She’s taller with broader shoulders. Terry is a striking guy and just from appearances, I’d say he’s at least fifteen years older than her. His hair is snow white. “But I have to say, I’m a little surprised.”
“Oh? How’s that?”
“I had no idea you were black. You don’t sound black.”
I have absolutely no idea what to say to that. What I really want to do is ask, And exactly what does a black person sound like? Instead, I say, “Um, I grew up in France. Maybe that’s why.”
“Oh! Well, maybe that’s it.” Funny thing is, she seems oblivious to the fact that she just offended me. I want to like the woman. I really do. But now I think I don’t like her very much at all.
As soon as Rayanna has delivered all the drinks, she asks, “Would you guys like to see Carly’s room?”
“I have a room?” the little girl asks, her eyes wide.
“You sure do! You should thank Mr. Lucien for that.”
“Thank you, Mr. Lucien,” she says obediently, and her voice is extremely soft, a complement to the shyness I see on her face.
“You’re quite welcome, and you don’t have to call me Mr. Lucien. Just Lucien will do.”
“Okay. You’re tall,” she says and grins.
I smile back at her. “So I’ve been told!”
Thirty minutes later, Reagan and Terry are out the door. They’ll be back on Tuesday. Until then, Carly is here with us. Surprisingly enough to me, I’m excited about getting to know her. She’s a cute little thing.
The rest of the afternoon and evening go well, even though I know Rayanna’s still upset about the GED test. When we go to bed, she’s afraid to have sex because she doesn’t want to wake Carly, and I’m not going to push the issue. It’s one night, and I understand her fear.
I get up on Saturday morning, go for a run, and pick up pastries on my way back. By the time I get there, Carly and Rayanna are up, Carly watching Saturday morning kids’ programming while Rayanna sits on the sofa with her. “Do you like your room?” I ask as we eat.
“Yes! It’s so pretty! Thank you!” she says, then puts her pastry back on her plate and looks up at me. “Can I hug you?”
“Of course.” I’m sitting on the sofa too, so she steps up in front of me and wraps her arms around my neck.
In that moment, I have an epiphany like no other I’ve ever experienced. When that tiny body steps into my space and those arms encircle my neck, I understand why people say there’s no love like the love of a child. It’s pure and unashamed and sweet. There’s no guile there, and there’s no hidden agenda. She doesn’t want anything from me. She just wants to thank me in the only way she knows how, and it’s more than adequate. It’s revelatory. Then a pair of sticky lips touch my ear and that bird-like voice whispers, “Thank you for being nice to my mommy. My daddy was very mean to us.”
“I’d never be mean to your mommy,” I whisper back.
“I can tell. You don’t have a yelly voice and your lips aren’t squeezed up and your eyes aren’t squinty,” she says.
“Thank you. Now eat your pastry,” I tell her and pat her back as I squeeze her one more time.
“Yes, sir. Thank you for the thingies,” she says and points to the plate. “They’re very good.”
“You’re very welcome. That’s baklava you’ve got there.”
“I’ve never had baklava before,” she says, happily taking another bite out of it. Rayanna looks like she’s going to explode with joy.
We spend the rest of the day going to the Woodland Park Zoo and the Seattle Aquarium, and when Rayanna finds out about it, the Seattle Great Wheel. I care nothing about that, but they won’t ride it without me, so the three of us climb aboard and up we go. At first, Carly is terrified, but after the first time around, she’s mesmerized. Rayanna’s never been to the Pike Place Market, so we go down there to a restaurant I’d heard about from somebody at the club. It’s Thai cuisine, and I love the idea that I’m getting to share something with them that they’ve never experienced before. We’ve been finished eating for about ten minutes, just sitting there people-watching and talking, when Carly says, “Mommy? I’m tired. I want to take a nap in my new room. Can we go home?”
Home. That’s the first time I’ve thought of that apartment as really being a home, but that’s how this little girl sees it. Before Rayanna can answer, I chime up. “If you’re tired, of course we can go home. Babe, anything else you need while we’re out?”
“Can’t think of anything,” Rayanna answers, her eyes soft and misty.
“Good. Let’s go.”
By the time we pull into the parking garage, Carly is sound asleep in the back seat. I carry her in and put her on the bed, and Rayanna takes her shoes off and covers her with a little poly throw that’s been hanging on the back of the rocking chair across the room. We both tiptoe out and pull the door almost closed behind us. As soon as we step into the bedroom, I toe my shoes off and swing my gaze to the beautiful woman on the other side of the bed. “You look as tired as I feel.”
“I’m exhausted. It was fun, but I’m really tired.”
“Want to take a nap too? Won’t hurt my feelings.”
Three hours later, I crack open an eyelid to see a small face looking down into mine. “Are you asleep?”
“Not anymore,” I say and smile at her.
“I’m hungry. Do we have food?”
“Yes. Always.”
“Should Mommy get up and get it for me?”
From where I sit I look back at Rayanna. Her face is peaceful and her breathing soft and steady. “Nah. I’ll get it. Come on. Let’s see what we can find.”
Sleeping Beauty steps into the kitchen thirty minutes later to see Carly and me eating macaroni and cheese. “What’s going on in here?”
“She was hungry so I fixed us something to eat. Want some?” I ask as I hold out a fork with three pieces of macaroni stuck to it.
Rayanna leans down, closes her mouth over the fork, and pulls back. “That’s pretty good!”
I chuckle. “Hey, I cooked for myself for years. I know how to boil water, babe.”
“Then as long as there’s macaroni and cheese or ramen, you won’t starve,” she says and strokes my hair as she walks by on her way to the refrigerator. From the fridge she draws out a container of cottage cheese and drops a big dollop in a little bowl. We sit there, chatting and nibbling, until Carly sighs. “Something wrong?”
“I’m just tired. I don’t get to do much stuff at Aunt Reagan’s. We live in the country so there’s nothing to do but play outside. This was fun but I’m pooped.”
That makes me chuckle. “Okay, well, maybe it’s your bedtime. We’ll do some other fun thing tomorrow. Want to head to bed?” She nods. “So goodnight then. See you in the morning.”
With no hesitation, she comes straight to me and wraps her arms around my neck, so I hug her tightly. “Nitey-nite, Lucien. Thanks for the fun. I love you.”
“You’re welcome, baby. Go on to bed.” When she turns loose, she grins at me with that gap-toothed smile before she wanders off down the hallway. Rayanna stops for a second and looks back to me, then pulls a piece of paper from her pocket and hands it to me before following Carly to the bedroom.
Dear Lucien,
I know you’re disappointed in me for failing the test, but I did all I could do. I’ll do better next time, I promise. I’ll pass it. But it hurts to know you’re disappointed in me. You must be. I’m a failure. But thank you so much for letting Carly come here and for being so nice to her. She’s a good kid and she loves you becaus
e she knows you’ve helped me. I hope someday you can love her too. Thank you for everything you do for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.
Yours truly and always,
Rayanna (Precious)
I’ve rinsed out her bowl and our dishes and barely made it to the bedroom before she steps in. “She’s finally asleep―so keyed up and excited that she had trouble getting still, even though she’s exhausted.”
“Rayanna?” The eyes that meet mine have a fair amount of fear in them, irrational fear, fear that makes pain shoot through my heart. “Babe, I’m not ashamed of you or disappointed in you. I’m so, so proud of you. I mean, two points, baby―two points. I know a quarter of those questions were math, so just think what your score would’ve been if you’d known how to use that online calculator! You can do this. You just have to figure that thing out and you can do it. And I think I know a way to fix this.”
Now I’ve got her full attention. “Yeah?” I pat the bed beside me and she drops onto it like a bag of spuds. “What?”
“So I’m guessing there was a plus and minus sign on that calculator, right?”
“Yes.”
“But what about multiplication and division?”
“No.”
So that’s what was wrong. “Was there an asterisk?” She gives me a blank stare. “Like a little star?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s multiplication, babe.” Her eyes go wide. “And for division, you use a slash mark. Was there―”
“Yes! Oh my god! I didn’t know!”
I nod. “After I had a little while to think about it, I kinda figured that might be it. And for exponents―”
“You mean like powers?”
“Yes. So was there a little ‘v’ thing?”
“Yes!” Now she seems pretty excited.
“So you put in your number, then press that and put in the number of the exponent. It’s an up arrow because you’re raising a number to the power of whatever. And there should’ve been a little check mark. That’s for roots. Get it?”
“Yes!” Her shoulders drop and her eyes pitch upward toward the ceiling before she sighs loudly. “I thought I was a real idiot, like really stupid. I didn’t know any of that.”
Eternally Yours: Bliss Series, Book Six Page 22
