Sweet Love

by Lolah Lace

  “They give any ole body a key.” He grumbled.

  “I’ve always had a key. Why are you here? You begging for money?”

  Robert ignored my question and walked away from me and toward the family room. I took my shoes off at the door and placed them in the welcome mat. I walked into the dining room and placed my purse and my bag on the dining table. The house was relatively quiet.

  I ventured into the family room hoping to see my mother and father but it was just Robert sitting on the couch staring into the big screen TV— some reality show.

  “What are you doing here?” He asked with an entire unlit cigarette dangling from his purple crusty lips. If he lit that cigarette inside this house I already know I was going act a whole fool. Dad has bronchitis.

  I decided to ignore my brother’s question. He knew I came over to visit with our parents every Sunday after I closed up the shop. Robert had been into the store once to see me since I took over. I couldn’t lie. It kind of hurt my feelings. I only had one brother and we used to be close. Now I hardly recognized him. He was so trifling. He looked like a drug addict. But that didn’t stop women from putting up with him and taking care of him.

  “Where’s Mama and Daddy?” I asked, hoping he wouldn’t have anything smart to say.

  “In they skin.”

  Nope, I was wrong. My brother was still an immature idiot.

  “Mama!” I yelled out close enough to his ears to irritate the shit out of him.

  “In the kitchen.” I heard our mother say.

  “Wait. Did you bring my kids some candy?”

  Which ones? “Yes, it’s on the dining room table.” I shook my head and walked around him to get to our mother.

  “Mama got a surprise for you.” My lazy brother sang as I was exiting the room.

  I had no idea what he meant. My brother was one to always talk in riddles. I think it had something to do with him being the youngest. I found it better to ignore all his immaturity while I was in Galena. I swear I didn’t know how our parents dealt with him. I also didn’t get how his baby mama’s dealt with him. He only had kids with two women that I knew about. There could be a third baby mama but it was never proven so I’m going to go with two.

  I hurriedly left Robert in search of at least one of my parents. I needed to make sure my daddy’s sugar was okay. I had to give him a weekly lecture. I had to make sure he was taking his insulin shots. He was stubborn and he was always worrying the hell out of my mother. I had to do what Cherise did when she was here. That was paying the bills and making sure my parents stayed happy and healthy. I loved seeing my folks on the regular. My father was funny and my mother was the sweetest woman ever.

  I entered the kitchen and the first person I saw was my old boyfriend from high school, Nelson Deener. So this was the surprise. Jesus, Joseph, and Mary J. Blige. I wasn’t ready for this reunion. There was nothing wrong with Nelson but I wish I had a heads-up. I didn’t know this man anymore. I only knew the boy Nelson. After I went away to college we barely kept in touch. More accurately I didn’t keep in touch with him. He couldn’t have thought we were going to stay a couple after I went away. So we drifted apart without a real breakup.

  “Oh here’s my baby.” My mother noticed me. She sprung from her chair at the table where she was peeling potatoes.

  “Hey, Ma.” I meet her halfway and gave her a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Where’s Daddy?”

  “He’s around here somewhere. He’s not watching TV with Robert? “

  “No, he’s not in there.”

  “Look at who stopped by for a visit.”

  “Who?” I joked.

  “You know who.” My mother went back to her chair.

  “Hey, Nelson.”

  “Katrina.” Nelson was smiling at me and approaching. I knew I was supposed to hug him but I didn’t want to.

  He went in to embrace me and I let it happen. It felt awkward. I wasn’t sure why. We’d done much more than embrace in the past. I hadn’t seen him in years. The last time I saw him was at his father’s funeral and that had to be about twelve years ago.

  “Nelson, what are you doing here?” I was trying to act stupid. I was trying to act like I didn’t know my mother had set this whole meeting up. I knew he hadn’t just dropped by.

  “I, ah— ”

  Mama Sweets interjected. “He comes by and visits me from time to time.”

  “I took your mama to church today.”

  “Nice,” I said but that was hours ago so I’m not a fool.

  “I take her sometimes.”

  “Really?” I feigned a smile.

  I didn’t know Nelson was my mother’s own private Uber service. It was a clear indication of how far removed I was from the comings and goings of the Galena townspeople.

  “He sure did. Ya’ know he takes me to church sometimes when your father is too tired. Your father wasn’t feeling well this morning. I wish you could come to church with me.”

  “I have to work at the shop everyday Ma.” Plus that church wasn’t progressive enough for me.

  “I know, I know. But didn’t you hire a worker? He can watch the place for a few hours while you go to church.”

  “I don’t know him well Ma. I don’t trust him there alone.” That was a lie. I trusted Jason. He had proven himself by opening the shop for me while I was in my deep allergy medicine sleep. He’d also proven he was a great kisser. I’m still trying to block that out.

  Why would Nelson have to drive my mother anywhere when my brother doesn’t have a job? This nonsense was beyond me?

  I had a nice visit with my parents but all my visits were pleasant. I was by all accounts the favorite child. I was the educated one that moved away to the big city. I moved to the big suburb but my parents didn’t distinguish between the two.

  My mother made sure I got some alone time with Nelson. We had to play catch up and there was just too much to catch up on. I laughed a lot while we reminisced on the old times. Nelson made sure to remind me that he was my first. It was true. I hadn’t forgotten. It was just something I didn’t think about all these years later.

  Nelson was divorced. He married some girl that we went to high school with. After he told me her name I didn’t recall her. When he described her I still didn’t remember her. He said we should keep in touch. I didn’t know what that meant. After dinner with Nelson and my parents, I drove home.

  I relaxed with a hot bubble bath and a very fine bottle of chardonnay. I was alone and I didn’t know why it felt different this time then all of the other times I was by myself. I guess I just wasn’t used to being home alone.

  JAGGER

  Sunday was the only day in the week I had of freedom. By freedom, I meant I didn’t have to go to therapy and talk about my blubbering feelings. Sunday was the day that I wrote music, played my guitar and created things related to future recording projects. I had been experiencing an incredible amount of inspiration while being here.

  Many factors contributed to my surge of creativeness. I was completely smitten with Kat and she was a huge part, if not the single part of my creativity. She was my muse, my precious gem, my exquisite Faberge egg. Thinking of her made everything in my life appear better.

  It was getting more difficult to keep my hands to myself. I dreamt of touching her, kissing her and shagging from the first day we met. My loins had a bit of a tingle when I knew she was near. Being around her was maddening because I wanted to touch her so very badly.

  Sunday was also the day I took my weekly drug test. I thought it was complete and total rubbish to take a piss test weekly without any signs that I was slipping back into my old ways. But this was apart of the program and I had to be a model bloke to get back to my real life. If I could stay clean for ninety days everyone felt I was ready to get back out there. I didn’t know if I was ready. It wasn’t like all the drugs and alcohol would mysteriously disappear off the face of the earth just because Jagger was sober. I was a musician. Drugs were literally ev
erywhere.

  I probably shouldn’t have kissed Kat but I just couldn’t resist. Her lips were puckered and perfect. They were too large for her face and that made them all the more appealing. Her lip-gloss had these little specks of glitter in them that made me want to lick it off. I could tell she was a bit of a flirt. Every time I’d come on to her she’d give me some quip about her age or tell me to cut it out. My brain didn’t register any of these things as a hard no. Therefore I would trudge on with the hope that I would get to lick her lady bits sooner rather than later.

  I wrote another song today, an ode to Katrina Sweet. I stayed up all night trying to perfect it. . .

  I can be your bad boy toy

  I can give you so much joy

  I can put the Y in yum

  I can give you all this love

  Oop

  I can take you up so high

  I can make you touch the sky

  I can really bang it out

  Girl, you know what I’m about

  Oop

  I can make your legs vibrate

  I can make your tummy ache

  I can take you on my ride

  I can make you slip and slide

  Oop

  I can give you all my heart

  I can make you stop and start

  You’re the one I’m thinking of

  When I give you all my love

  I’d written three songs since I’d been in this town. My inspiration was the most beautiful woman ever. Katrina had a glow that set fire to my soul. I was so into her it almost felt unnatural. There was something pure and innocent about her not knowing who I was. All of our interactions were authentic. She wasn’t fake like so many other women. She was the realest.

  I couldn’t remember a time when I was just Jagger. There had to be a time, maybe when I was a tot. Kat didn’t want much from me. But I was willing to give it all. It felt good to be wanted for something other than my money, my voice, my talents, my clout, my social status, my industry connections, or my recommendations. Kat wanted me to ring up customers, unpack boxes and sweep the damn shop floors. Her wants were so minimal that I’d grown to relish them. In the world that wanted every bit of me, she only wanted a minor piece.

  I ate a late supper with David and Fiona. Our little trio had grown into a little family unit. It was odd because I’d never had a clear memory of a real family. I was an only child and my mother and father weren’t together much. Mum spent all her time running me back and forth to auditions. When I landed the gig on Kiddie Kingdom I had a full and strict schedule that kept me on the set more than at home. I rarely saw my father. He worked a normal job that had normal hours. Taping my television show didn’t leave much time for us to be a proper family. I felt like I missed something but I couldn’t complain about it. I couldn’t be one of those rich famous people complaining about being rich and famous. For everything I lost, I’d gained so much.

  Chapter 8

  KATRINA

  Monday was here and I couldn’t lie to myself. I had anxiety about what happened Saturday in the backyard. My mind had come up with all these crazy little scenarios that didn’t have anything to do with the actual kiss. What happens if Jason doesn’t show up to work? What happens if he tries that again? I couldn’t believe how I was acting. This young man had really gotten me flustered. I was being irrational and silly. I wondered if I did anything to lead him on. I didn’t remember flirting with him. I didn’t smile much if that’s what led him on. I was told I always had a permanent resting bitch face.

  Whatever it was. I had a plan. I was going to act like nothing ever happened. The problem with that plan was it did happen and that kiss was spectacular. It was Florida Evans damn, damn, damn, good. It was Jay Jay Evans Dynamite! I should stop feeling so ashamed. He was legal and he kissed me. I didn’t kiss him. I needed to cut myself some slack and act my age.

  On-time like always, Jason showed up. He knocked on the back door and I let him in five minutes before it was time to open the store. He was wearing dark blue Levi’s, a plain gray short sleeve t-shirt and orange tennis shoes. I could tell his hair had been wet from a shower. It wasn’t combed in any particular way. It had grown in the few weeks I’d known him. His hair was in all directions but still very fashionable.

  “Hey.” I greeted him while wiping the glass countertop.

  “Morning.” He grinned. He was so alert and wide-eyed. He never looked tired. He was the epitome of bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I had to attribute this to his youth. I couldn’t come up with any other explanation.

  “How was your day off?” I asked.

  “Boring without you.”

  “I doubt that,” I smirked.

  “Why would I lie?” Jason tossed his backpack on the floor behind the counter. He inched behind me and touched my waist as he exited the space.

  Jason’s eyes roamed my body. “You look sexy this morning.”

  “I look like a normal woman. I think you go out of your way to make me feel uncomfortable but it’s not going to work.”

  “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. Why would compliments that are true make you uncomfortable? You are sexy, beautiful, smart, funny.”

  “Thank you. Unlock the front door and charm the little girls and leave the old ladies alone.”

  “I can’t charm everybody?” Jason walked to the front door and unlocked the door.

  “It sure seems that way.”

  “Well, what about if I just charm you.”

  “Your charm doesn’t work on me.” I twisted my lips.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “It’s true.”

  “That kind of truth hurts my feelings. Look at my face.” Jason walked up to the countertop. He pushed my bottle of Windex to the side and leaned over to peer at me.

  “I’m looking at your face.” I could stare too. There was no way I was going to back down. He did this all the time. He was trying to rattle me. This kid who couldn’t even buy alcohol wouldn’t get me frazzled.

  “What do you see when you look into my eyes?” He asked.

  “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  “You want me to tell you what you’re supposed to see, when you look at me?”

  “Yes, Jason. Jesus. Tell me now before another gray hair springs from my scalp.” He was frustrating.

  “Okay, you ready?”

  “I was ready back in nineteen-eighty-five.” When Ronald Reagan was president.

  “You have such nice lips.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Jason, stop giving me the dreamy eyes. They’re a waste of time.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Stop staring at my lips.”

  “They’re so tasty.”

  “And you should’ve never tasted them.” I snapped. This boy was too much.

  “Why not?”

  “You know why?”

  “Are you still hung up on the age thing? I thought you were over that.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “You know that I’m a talented kisser. I’m well-traveled. I know more Stevie Wonder songs than you do and can play them on the guitar.”

  “Those are all lovely qualities that a beautiful nineteen-year-old girl would be very impressed with.”

  “Fuck them. I want to impress you. Tell me, boss lady. What are you looking for in a man?”

  “First, I’m not looking for a man. Second just gone right back to the first.” I shook my head no.

  “Don’t be difficult. You know what I mean.”

  “You really want to know?”

  “Yes Kat, I really want to know before I’m old enough to grow a full beard.”

  Jason walked around the counter and took the highchair behind me. I turned to face him so he wouldn’t have a direct line to stare at my ass. He did that quite often but he wasn’t going to do it now. I wasn’t having it.

  I leaned back on the glass. “If I were looking for a man he would be around my age, maybe a year or so older. So
we could talk about things that happened in our lives that we were both around for because we were both born more than two decades ago.”

  “So basically things that could be read in a history book.” He brushed his hair back and his muscle popped out but he didn’t see me notice. “What else?”

  “Tall, dark, handsome. He doesn’t have to have a perfect body. He can have a few pounds on him.”

  “I’m tall and handsome and I can get a spray tan. I’m not risking skin cancer for anybody. I’m joking. I don’t fear skin cancer. What else?”

  “I prefer a man without tattoos. I don’t have anything against tattoos but I find them distracting. You have two tattoos.”

  Jason looked down at his inner wrist tattoo. “I have more than two tats.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, I would have to be naked for you to see all of them.”

  “Well, that’s not necessary. I’m not into tattoos.” I grimaced.

  “So you don’t have any?”

  “No, I do not.” I couldn’t help the sass in my voice.

  “Religious reasons?”

  “No.”

  “Why do you hate tats?”

  “I don’t hate tats. People get them and they have no meaning. They just get random things on their bodies forever. Or worse they make up these reasons for the tattoos that are just shallow and lame.”

  “You are certainly judgy this morning Ms. Sweet.”

  “Okay, tell me. Why do you have that heart with a V on the inside of your wrist?”