by J. L. Leslie
“Tauren?” I whisper when his lips move from my mouth to the curve of my neck.
I gently push him away, but he doesn’t step back. Instead, he rests his forehead against mine, his breathing ragged.
“I won’t win the race for you,” he says. “I promise you that.”
“The race? What race?” I ask him, confused.
He leans back, his hands cupping my face. “I get that you need time to figure out how to be your own person, but I already know who you are, Helene. You are the person that lets others go first in line at the church buffet, even if it means you won’t get your favorite ham rollups Mrs. Pinkton brings. You are the person who sends out birthday cards to the elderly in town because you’re worried no one else will. You are compassionate, kind, and sweet, and you are the person who took a chance on me, the exact opposite of those characteristics.”
“Tauren, you are ki ‒”
“You are the person that I’m in love with, Helene. The woman who is going to be the mother of my child. The woman I want to marry, and not because of some notion that I need to do something honorable, but because I need to do something great with my life and being with you is it.”
I start to speak again, but I know I won’t be able to talk right now. A mixture of emotions are coursing through me, and what’s so amazing, is that not a single emotion is fear, dread, or anxiety. Not even when Tauren lowers himself down to one knee.
“My mama told me if I wasn’t on one knee with a ring then I didn’t do it right. I don’t have a ring, but I will get you one. You can win your own race, Helene. I only want to be part of your team. Will you marry me?”
I gaze down at him. He isn’t blurting out this proposal while drunk.
It’s real.
A real proposal.
A real proposal from the man that I’ve given everything to.
I can lie to myself and say that I don’t want to marry him. That I haven’t forgiven him and that we shouldn’t be together. But it would be exactly that. A lie.
“Yes,” I tell him, and his eyes go wide. “I’ll marry you, Tauren Holt.”
He leans forward and raises the hem of my shirt so that my belly is exposed. “You hear that, little one? Me and your mama are getting married.”
He kisses me right on the belly button and then stands, gathering me in his arms. I yelp when he lifts me and tosses me down onto my bed, climbing on top of me. For a moment, I’m lost in his kisses, his touch. I want this to happen almost as badly as he does, especially when he grinds his hardness against my center.
But I stop him.
Tauren stares down at me confused and then jokes, “You know, we can’t get pregnant again. That ship has sailed.”
“I want to wait,” I tell him. “Until we’re married.”
“For everything?”
I nod. “Except kissing. We can kiss, but everything else has to wait.”
“Okay,” he agrees, but I can hear the reluctance in his voice. “Are you busy Saturday? Say two o’clock?”
I furrow my brow and shake my head. “No, I have the weekend off.”
He gives me a quick peck on the lips and gets off me, heading to my door. He smirks as he looks over his shoulder at me.
“I’ll see you later. I have a wedding to get planned. Saturday at two is good for me also.”
I prop on my elbows. “This Saturday? It’s Wednesday, Tauren, we can’t plan a wedding that fast.”
“Fast is my specialty, baby,” he winks and leaves me there, engaged and confused.
Chapter Nineteen
Tauren
After I leave Helene, I’m riding on cloud nine to my parents’ house. Perhaps I should have waited, given her some time, like Jenna suggested, but I knew in my heart that time wasn’t what she needed from me. She needed me to step up and prove my feelings to her. So, I did.
I park and get out, almost jogging across the yard. I go inside and call out for my mama. I walk to the kitchen, but she isn’t in there. When I go back to the living room, she emerges from her bedroom, her face flushed.
“Lord, child, don’t you ever knock?” she admonishes and then my daddy exits their room buckling his belt.
Oh, dear God.
“I don’t even want to know what the two of you were doing in there,” I tell them both, shaking my head.
“Now, son, the whole town, us included, knows what you’ve been doing,” my daddy retorts. “Having a healthy sex life is the key to a good marriage.”
“And communication,” my mama adds.
“Well, let’s communicate about another topic,” I say. “Mama, I need some food for this Saturday. A small buffet type of thing, finger foods. Maybe fifty people. I have no idea. Can you and some of the church ladies pull that off?”
“My word, baby! Fifty people?”
“Give or take. We aren’t sending out invitations.”
My parents both look at each other, and then my daddy asks, “Invitations? To what exactly?”
“I asked Helene to marry me, for real this time, and she said yes. We’re getting married Saturday.”
“Holy Moses,” my daddy mumbles. “Hope the honeymoon stage lasts longer than the engagement.”
“And Helene is looking for a car,” I inform my daddy. “I know you get some that come through the shop, so keep your eyes peeled, please.”
“Baby, have you thought this through?” Mama asks. “Not that I don’t want you to marry Helene, because I don’t have an issue with that. But this seems really fast. Where will the two of you live? Is she moving in with you? Are you adding her to your insurance plan? Your bank account?”
“Insurance? Mama, we will figure all of that out,” I assure her, not concerned with insurance policies and bank accounts.
“These are things you need to have figured out pretty quickly,” she replies.
“Can you do the food or not? I need to know because I have to go buy a ring.”
Both of my parents sigh and then my mama tells me to come with her. I follow her down the hall to their bedroom, keeping my focus away from the rumpled bed sheets.
“I’ve been holding onto these rings, waiting for my boys to need them,” she explains as she opens her jewelry box. “Kaler didn’t propose to Brynn with the ring I had put away for him, but he did propose to Jenna with it. I always felt that him choosing to buy a ring instead of using a family heirloom was a sign that their marriage was never going to work. Now, saying that, if you wish to buy a ring instead, that is up to you.”
“Well, when you put it that way,” I tease. “I’ll take the heirloom. Wouldn’t want my marriage to be doomed.”
Mama holds out a ring to me, and I take it, studying it and knowing instantly that it suits Helene. The gold band is wide with intricate designs on it and the stone is an emerald, surrounded by small white diamonds.
“She’ll love it,” I manage, imagining Helene with my ring on her finger. With my last name. With our child.
“You just have to ask her daddy for his blessing.”
I frown and shake my head. “Screw him.”
“You will regret not asking him,” Mama warns me. “Every daddy deserves the right to walk his daughter down the aisle. Even stubborn jerks like Pastor Jacobs.”
Helene
I highly doubt Tauren was serious about us getting married this Saturday. There’s no way we could plan a wedding in only a few days. I don’t have a dress, we don’t have a venue, a caterer. When I think of what I want my wedding to be, I don’t want anything extravagant, but I don’t want a justice of the peace ordaining my marriage at the courthouse either.
“Here you go, Mr. Dellway,” I tell Parker, and place his food in front of him and motion toward his empty bottle. “I’ll get you another as well.”
Parker has been a deacon at our church since we moved to Chapelwood. He’s usually the first one to volunteer to cut the grass at the church, saying he loves outdoor work. I’ve learned that he also loves drinking beer and playing
pool at Happy’s. He’s in here nearly every night.
“Helene,” he stops me. “My wife has called, and she wants to know if you prefer chicken salad sandwiches or pimento cheese sandwiches for Saturday?”
“I’m sorry?”
“For the reception,” he explains. “She’s helping with the catering. Chicken salad or pimento?”
I stare at him, my mouth parted in shock. Tauren was serious and has apparently gotten to work planning our wedding for this Saturday. Three days from now.
“You know what, forget it, I’ll tell her to do both.”
I simply nod, unsure what to say, and go get him another beer from the freezer. When I return, he’s on the phone with his wife, discussing what foods she needs to make for my wedding.
I’m going to be sick.
I rush to the bathroom but I only dry heave. It’s nerves, I know it. I splash some cold water on my face and lean over the sink, watching the water go down the drain. I am seriously getting married in three days, and we haven’t really discussed anything. Aren’t we supposed to do that?
“Honey, if your pregnancy is affecting your job performance this early, how do you expect to work here when you’re blown up like a balloon?” Abby asks, exiting one of the stalls. I hadn’t even realized she was in here with me.
“It’s not affecting my job performance,” I inform her.
She goes to the sink beside me and washes her hands. “I hear you’re getting hitched Saturday.”
“Yeah, well, news travels fast in this town.”
Too fast. I only found out I was getting married this Saturday about an hour ago. Now, the whole town knows. How does that even happen?
“It sucks that Tauren has decided to settle down. At least there’s one more Holt brother still on the market. That Kipton is just as delicious as Tauren and Kaler.”
“Mm-hmm,” I answer, not wanting to engage in conversation with her.
“Wonder if he can fuck as good as he rides those bulls? Don’t you?”
“I, um, no, I don’t wonder that,” I answer, somewhat surprised at her brazenness.
“Of course, had I known I only had to get knocked up to get Tauren to put a ring on my finger, I probably wouldn’t have swallowed all his cum. He does love a good blow job though. It’s too bad.”
Abby licks her lips, letting me know just how much she enjoyed having her mouth on my future husband’s penis. I remind myself that she’s part of Tauren’s past. I am his future, and if I’m going to be with him, I have to get some backbone.
“Lick your lips all you want, Abby. Remember what he tasted like. Dream about him if you want. Because I can assure you, you will never get the opportunity to taste him again.”
I brush past her and leave her standing there in shock. I know she never expected me to say anything back to her, only to stand there and take whatever she was dishing out.
Tauren was right about who I am. I am compassionate, kind, and sweet, but I’m also strong and no longer afraid to stand up for myself.
Chapter Twenty
Tauren
I knock on Pastor Jacobs’ door for a second time and decide if he doesn’t answer when I know he’s home, then he can shove his blessing up his ass. I know it’s tradition to ask for him to bless our marriage, but if he denies giving that to me, it won’t stop me from marrying his daughter.
Finally, he answers, and he looks like shit. He put on a good show Sunday, all spiffed up and behaving as though he was not affected by what has happened. Clearly, it’s taking a toll on him.
“You’re not welcome here,” he gruffs.
“I’m here to ask for your blessing,” I tell him, clenching my jaw, and then I take a deep breath before continuing. “I’ve asked Helene to marry me and the wedding will be this Saturday.”
“The two of you cannot get married at my church!” he hisses.
“We didn’t ask to,” I smart. “I came to ask for your blessing because I know it’s important, not only to my parents, but to your daughter. You can try and tell yourself all you want that Helene isn’t part of your life. That’s your doing, not hers.”
“It was her doing the moment she laid with you!”
I shake my head. “Are you so blinded by your hatred for me that you’re willing to miss out on your grandchild’s life? Because if you can’t accept us, then you can’t accept our child.”
He seems to ponder that thought, and for a second, I think he’s going to come to his senses. I should have known better.
“I will never give you my blessing,” he states and slams the door in my face.
I guess that means he won’t officiate the wedding either. I almost laugh at that thought. At least he cannot say I didn’t ask him.
I go back to my car and call my mama as I pull off. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Geez, child, another one?”
“Can you find me a phone number for Helene’s grandparents in Tennessee? Her mama’s parents?”
I hear some rustling on the other line, and then my mama comes back on. “I can give it to you right now. I had their information tucked in the church calendar from way back when Mrs. Jacobs passed.”
“Text it to me.”
“Aren’t you driving? You don’t need to be answering texts while you’re driving. I don’t know how many times I’ve told you that.”
“I won’t answer it until I stop. Just send it, Mama.”
I hang up with her, and a couple of minutes later, I hear the notification that I’ve gotten a text. Yes, I open it while I’m still driving, and call the number she gave me. A woman answers, and I’m relieved that her grandfather didn’t. I’m much better at dealing with females.
“Ma’am, you don’t know me, but my name is Tauren Holt.”
I hear a light laugh on the other line. “I don’t know you, Mr. Holt, but I’ve heard a lot about you. Seems you’ve made quite the reputation for yourself in Chapelwood. My son-in-law has told me all about you.”
My stomach fills with dread. “Please don’t believe everything you hear from Pastor Jacobs, Mrs. Hobbs.”
“Oh, dear, I never do,” she laughs again. “Abraham has choice words to say about all the young men in that town. I told him my granddaughter would never settle down if he didn’t allow her some breathing room.”
“That’s actually why I’m calling,” I tell her. “Helene and I are getting married Saturday at two o’clock.”
“Married? My goodness, when did all of this happen? Abraham told me nothing of this the last time we spoke.”
“Um, today actually. The reason I’m calling is that Pastor Jacobs does not bless our marriage, so I know I can’t ask him to provide us with anything. The thing is, I feel confident that Helene would want something that belonged to her mama there. A necklace, earrings, anything like that. If you can make it to the wedding and bring her something, I know she would love that.”
“I’m sure I can find some of Nora’s things.”
“Anything will do. I want her to have something of hers there,” I explain. “And if you have any of Helene’s old baby clothes or items, we would like to have that for our baby.”
“Baby? Dead Lord, what is going on?”
“Pastor Jacobs didn’t tell you? Helene and I are pregnant.”
“I see.” Her tone is clipped, not the lighthearted voice I was hearing only seconds ago. “I suppose we have missed out on a lot being here in Tennessee.”
“I’m certain Helene would have told you, but she doesn’t have a phone at the moment.”
She mumbles another ‘dear Lord’ and then asks me if there’s anything else she can do. I can tell that she’s still taking it all in. It must be hard to hear it this way, but I didn’t know who else to call.
“Honestly, if you just bring her something of her mama’s, I will be forever grateful,” I answer her. “And I don’t mean to rush off, but I have to call the other church in town to see if their pastor can officiate and I have to run to apply for a marri
age license too.”
“It sounds like you’re getting everything put together,” she comments. “I’ll get her mama’s things there and see what I can find of her baby things. I might have to mail those later.”
“Thank you, and I’m doing my best,” I reply. “Your granddaughter deserves it.”
“I will admit, Mr. Holt, you’ve given me quite the shock with your telephone call. I wasn’t expecting to hear that my granddaughter is pregnant and getting married,” she says. “But if she’s happy, then I am happy, and I support the two of you. My husband and I will make the trip because there’s no way we would ever miss it.”
“Helene will be happy to see you there.”
“And don’t worry about calling that other church,” she lets me know. “My husband has been preaching for over forty years. He’ll marry the two of you.”
“Thank you. That will be great.”
We speak a few more minutes, her letting me know that she’ll contact Pastor Jacobs parents in Georgia. We both mention that they probably have no idea what’s going on.
So, I have the reception covered, the preacher, and Mrs. Hobbs is bringing something that belonged to Helene’s mama. Now, I just need to contact Kaler about the location I have in mind. Might as well get married where it all started.
Helene
The few times that Jenna has been home, I’ve learned that she’s not a morning person. So, when I hear someone knocking on our door at half past eight, I hurry out of the bathroom and go answer it before the knocking turns into banging.
The moment I answer the door, my eyes water up. My grandpa and grandma Hobbs are standing on the porch and I had no idea they were coming.
“Sweetie, don’t just stand there. Let us in,” Grandpa says, and I hold the door open for them.
As they come in, they both engulf me in a hug. I cry on my grandma’s shoulder, so happy to see them both but also emotional from being so overwhelmed by everything lately.
“Apparently, your fiancé thought you might need a little something for Saturday,” Grandma tells me, and I realize that my grandpa is holding a box.
