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Day Seventeen – Dinner and a Movie

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THE DAY SPED BY QUICKLY as Tameka hung new curtains in the bedroom and at all the windows.  She completed the Mom chair, which sat by the fireplace along with two matching pillows for her chair and his.  Next was that ugly couch, but today was not the day to tackle it. Tonight, they were going to have dinner with friends. She looked forward to having an evening that seemed normal after everything she’d been through. Moreover, she wanted to see Sharon’s home.

Zeke, dressed casually in denim and a flannel shirt, double checking himself in the bedroom mirror, looked cool and rather sexy to her.  Last night, she’d slept in the bed with him as he held her close, sleeping contently. Never once did she fear that he would get ideas and she would wake up to find him on top of her or in her, but that she could rest the whole night, unafraid.

He, too, had slept well, holding her thin, warm body next to his, cuddling like a teenager on his first sleepover with a girl. The nightmares didn’t come last night, and for that, he was grateful.  It also excited him to head out to dinner with friends.  In his line of work, he didn’t have many of those, if any.  He had the job, other agents, and the constant movement of public engagements. Nerves always jittering as he entered a building, or stepped out of her car, preparing himself for the time when the bullet would come, or some zealot would want to make his point up close and personal to the First Lady. Always on the ready.

On the ready was also what he would be when Jimmy Don showed up with the Sheriff.  Stupid people always made stupid moves, thinking they had the upper hand.  That fool had no idea what he was going to walk into if he showed up on their doorstep looking for the woman or the child. Both belonged to Zeke now and were under his protection. A nice bullet was reserved for Jimmy Don and the Sheriff if either of them felt froggy and insistent upon making a jump.

I need my weapon.

He put on his holster, double checking the clip, sliding it into the holder.  The heavy jacket concealed it as he took a look at Tameka and the baby. She only had a lightweight jacket that Sharon had sent over and it wouldn’t be enough to keep her nor the baby warm in the cold evening air.  Removing his jacket, he opted instead to wear the hunting one which hung in the closet, slipping the coat he’d initially put on over his wife.

“Slip your arms in, Snook’ums,” he said with a grin at the stupid nickname he knew she hated.  As a preventive measure, he grabbed the quilt from the bed to cover them with as they rode through the back trails to Mann’s house.

“Zeke, we don’t have a gift to bring, you know, like a bottle of wine or anything,” she said, standing there, looking like a small child trying to fit her Daddy’s coat.

He held up a finger, going to the bookshelf, saying aloud, “Anna Karenina, Moby Dick, Tolstoy,” pulling down the books as if they would open a secret compartment. Instead, the three novels revealed a bottle of red wine behind each one.

“Mom hid bottles of wine behind the books she knew we would never read,” he said, grinning and blowing the dust off the bottle.  Sticking it in his pocket, he went out the front door to the ATV. It was old, but still worked like a charm every time each year they came back and cranked it up.

“Okay Wife, you have bottles, diapers, wipes, a small blanket, a change of clothes?” he asked, looking at the small bag she’d stuff Michelle’s items into.

“I put in everything I think she will need,” Tameka said.  “I’m just hoping it’s not too soon to take her out.  I mean, she’s had no shots or anything.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Nate didn’t have vaccines at his house.  Hell, he had two pints of O-neg, a catheter, and an IV bottle.  I really want to see this house of his,” Zeke said.

He asked her to wait for him in the house as he ran to the garage to get more fuel for the ATV. He wanted to top off the tank just to make sure there was enough gas to get them to Nate’s property and back. The last thing he wanted or needed was to run out of gas and have his wife walking on her feet which were still in the process of rehabilitating.

The hairs on the back of Tameka’s neck stood up as she went to the window, looking out into the darkness.  She spotted movement in the wood line as her heartbeat quickened. Someone was out there watching. Panic filled her as she fixed her eyesight in the darkened spot in the woods. He had found her. I am not your victim Jimmy Don.

I will never be your victim again.

She looked about, spotting Zeke’s phone. Picking it up, she punched in a number she’d called each day and texted each night.  Eleven months had passed since he’d heard from her, but today, he would know what happened. Harley would know why she did not show up to marry him. She composed the text in four words which would explain it all.

“Jimmy Don hurt me. - Cuddlebunny.”

She hit send then cleared the message cache. She put his phone in her pocket so that when Zeke came from the garage, she was ready.  The hairs on the back of her neck no longer felt prickly and she was ready for an evening of fun.

“I’m ready for a fun evening,” Zeke said waving for them to come out of the cabin.

“You and me both, Hubby,” she told him, coming out the front door.  Michelle was swaddled to her body as she zipped up the coat.  As a preventative measure, he seated her on the ATV and wrapped her and the baby in the quilt, sliding into the seat in front of them.

“Hold on,” he told her as he cranked the motor, startling Michelle, who began to cry. Tameka bent her head inside of the jacket, humming to the child while she gripped his sides when the vehicle began to roll.

Zeke followed Mann’s instructions to the letter, staying on the back trail, coming around the old fish pond up the back side of his house.  The trailheads were clearer than he’d expected, making the fifteen-minute drive to his friend’s house a snap.  He pulled in under the porch like instructed, helping his wife off the vehicle and through the walkway, coming under the house, around to the front door.  Tapping lightly, he was in awe when the front door opened to a spacious living area.

“Hey guys, welcome, come on in,” Sharon said.

Roasted meat hit his nose first, followed by the smell of freshly baked bread.  Mann stood over the stove, stirring a pot, looking up to offer a brief smile. Tameka, bundled up like a hobo, was helped by Sharon with the baby. 

“Wow, this is some house,” Tameka said.

“From what I understand, it started out the same size as what you guys currently have. Over the years, Nate added to it and this is what it is now,” she said. “Come on and warm yourself by the fire.  I have a bassinette to put little Michelle in as well.”

The bassinette was simple and white, and the perfect size for Michelle’s little body. Tameka wanted to take it home since Sharon had no use for it, based on the size of little Nate.  He looked like a mini Michelin man with rounded cheeks and rolls of baby fat.

“The bassinette is yours. We just haven’t had a chance to bring it over with all the rain,” Sharon said.

“Zeke, we are taking this with us,” Tameka exclaimed.

“How is that going to be possible, Honey?” He said, taking the beer offered to him by Nate.

“You put it in a garbage bag, take it home first, then come back for us. If I have to tie it to my waist and hold it in one hand, I will get it back to our house,” she said adamantly.

“No need for all of that,” Mann said. “I will bring it if need be.”

“Good. Now that we have that all settled, the food smells amazing and I’m tired of eating my own cooking, plus, I brought wine,” Zeke said, holding up the bottle.

“A gentleman after my own heart,” Sharon said.

Tameka admired the home, the state of the art appliances, and the gas-powered stove. The furniture all looked handcrafted as she admired the joints. The chairs were simple, but well-formed and sturdy.

“Admiring my work?” Mann asked.

“Yes, this is quality craftsmanship,” she said, looking about the house. 

“Most of this I did myself over the years, when it was just me and my Mom.”

“You have all the tools to make this stuff?”

“Yep, I have a workshop out back,” he told her. “I’m willing to teach you how if you’re interested.”

“I know how already, I just need to wait until the dust settles in our lives a bit, but this summer, you can expect to see me.  We are going to need some new pieces,” she told him.

“Or you can select some of the ones I’ve already made that are sitting out there collecting dust,” he said.

Her face lit up and she smiled.  The green teeth were gone, and her eyes had a fire in them he didn’t notice before.  She was stronger than he’d initially thought. A craftiness sparked in her eyes and he considered her to be quiet formidable in her own way. Nate shifted his eyes to his friend, “Come on, Zeke, let me show you around.”

Tameka looked at Sharon, waiting for her to offer a grand tour as well.

“Girl, that was his way of moving the men off so we could talk,” Sharon said to her. “Rocky, that’s my son, is at a sleepover. Since Michelle hasn’t had any shots yet, I didn’t want that little walking germ factory to get too close to her.”

“I appreciate that, but do you have a medical doctor in town?”

“Yes and no,” she said.  “We are self-sufficient here, and Mann has vaccines and everything else in his office.”

She pointed at the room off the kitchen, which made Tameka go and peer inside the door.  It was a very masculine room with an old fax machine, but she noticed there were no file cabinets, folders on his desk, or anything else which would denote a home office.

“What does Nate do for a living?” she asked curiously.

“He is contractor,” Sharon added, trying to change the subject.  “A better question is, how are you doing?  No, not the answer you give to your husband to appease his worrying, but honestly, how are you holding up?”

“Girl, I’m fine,” she said as Sharon raised her eyebrows in disbelief.  “No seriously. Jimmy Don held my body captive, but he never touched me or my mind.  In my mind, I hid and enjoyed making furniture, biding my time to get away.  My life was not forfeited to him.”

“Your life was not forfeited?”

“Yes, it was something my mother instilled in me, that no man would ever make me forfeit my life to him to be controlled.  Jimmy Don chained me, but he didn’t control me,” she said.

“But the baby...?”

“He made me a mother by drugging me. Three times that I know of, but in my mind, I wasn’t present when it happened, so my child is a gift which gave me hope and purpose.  She kept me company as I sat in that shack and when it was time to leave, her impending arrival provided me with lube to get the chain off my leg,” Tameka said with bright eyes.

“You are so optimistically positive, in an eerie kind of way,” Sharon said to her, stirring the pot.

“No, you are pessimistic.  It would be easy to sit in a corner slobbering over what happened to me, being his victim for the rest of my life, or I could stand up and be present, be in the now,” she told her. “I prayed every morning, thankful for waking up each day, and I worked out in front of that pot-bellied stove, partially to keep warm, and the other to have the strength when it came time to run.  Every night, I prayed for help while in my mind imagining my little cabin with the yellow wall filled with black and white photos in black frames with white mats. When the time came, I was ready. I ran through those woods, barefoot, wearing nothing but a holey rain slicker while in the throes of contractions.  So, looking at me like I’m crazy is silly.  I was delivered to a nice man with a wicked sense of humor, who loves that child as if she is his own. I have nothing to be sad about, and I’m not going to be.”

“Well, when you put it like that...” Sharon said.

“It is like that,” Tameka told her. “I’m not overcompensating to hide from a bad thing. I’m just not going to let that bad thing define who I am. Three weeks ago I was a prisoner, today I am free.”

Sharon came around the counter and hugged her tightly. For reasons she was unsure of, she wanted to share a bit of her life with the woman, to let her know she too believed in the happily ever after. However, there has to be a reckoning, which Tameka was postponing with her dance with optimism.

“My real name is Shanice. Nate and I were also married by Gabriel after he, I guess, stole me away from this small town south of Atlanta called Venture, Georgia.  He took my son Rocky as his own and immediately had my boy calling him Pops,” she said, taking out plates to set the table.

“What?” Tameka said, heading to the open faced, glass cabinet for wine glasses.

“I was a contract,” she said softly. “Rocky’s father felt I was a structure that needed to be taken down. When my image came over that fax, it didn’t feel right to Nate, who arrived prepared to do the job, but he didn’t know about the child.”

“How did he find out about Rocky?” Tameka asked, adding wine glasses to the table setting. The plates were brightly colored with matching napkins, and delicately carved woodened napkin rings.  All of the details to make the simple meal of pot roast and mashed potatoes seem like a four star dining experience.

“Nate pretended to be my blind date.  See, I was supposed to go out with this dude named Roger Flynn, but he knocked him out and showed up in the man’s car, with his credit card and all.  Tameka, I tell you, it was quite possibly one of the best dates I’ve ever had in my life,” she said, shimmying her shoulders.

“And now here you are in this wonderful house.  Then you do understand what I am saying,” Tameka said.

“Yes, I do, but it is important that you don’t sugarcoat a shit sandwich to make it more palatable,” Sharon offered her.

“No, Zeke is pretty tasty all by himself.  I have no doubts in my mind that he was sent here to not only help me, but to be the husband I prayed to have. It was a roundabout way of getting to him, but all the cosmos had to align to get us together, and we are,” she said smiling.

“You are and I are going to be great friends,” Sharon said, as both babies began to squawk at the same time. “I guess they smell this food and want to eat.”

“Let’s get them fed so we can enjoy the evening,” Tameka offered.

****

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ON THE BACK PORCH, Nate and Zeke stood looking over the valley. They could see the road from the house and the gaping hole left by the rain. The hole cut off Zeke’s place from the main line as well as the three other homes west of his place. Nate had access to the road and into town.  The back paths weren’t wide enough for an actual vehicle to get through, and for that Zeke was grateful. It would be at least another week before it was repaired enough for traffic to drive through.

“How is it going?” Nate asked.

“Slow, weird, and beautiful, if that makes any sense,” he said. “Jimmy Don had no idea what he was dealing with in her.  Shit, to be honest, neither do I.  The weird moments are unsettling.”

“Weird? You said it twice.”

Zeke stuck his hands in his pockets, his head lowered. He never really talked about his love life even with his brothers, but for some reason, he trusted Nate. It felt as if he were an ally in a secret mission only the two of them held the specific details to in order to survive the oncoming assault.

“Yeah. She disappears in plain sight in front of me. Her body is there, but she’s not, then suddenly, she comes back in the moment, humming away as if nothing happened,” Zeke said.

“It’s probably how she coped with her captivity, finding a place in her head to hide from the ugliness of Jimmy Don,” he said. “Does she have flashbacks?”

“Not that I can see, but she told me the child was created while she was drugged,” he told Nate.

“Oddly enough, that should be a comfort to you both. Mentally and physically, she knows it happened, but she doesn’t have to keep reliving it over and over again,” he said. “Long term, it shouldn’t impact your sex life too much.”

The words sex life made Zeke chuff. Nate was married and they had a new baby.  He didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know.

“If this is too personal, I understand if you don’t want to answer, but the other day, and this is why I also say weird, she came at me,” Zeke said.

“Came at you?” Nate asked, looking at his friend’s profile. He imagined a crazed woman with a butcher knife in her hand trying to cut off his dick.

“Yeah, came at me. Her pupils were dilated, she was all sweaty and hmmm, ready,” he said, almost swallowing the last word.

Nate threw back his head in laughter.  He knew exactly what Zeke was talking about. Sharon had done the same thing to him nearly four weeks after giving birth to little Nate.

“Oh yeah, I experienced that as well, but I couldn’t get away from Sharon.  I truly felt violated when she finished with me,” he said, laughing. “I was clutching the bed covers and felt dirty when she was through riding me like a field hand on loan to pick peas for the harvest.”

“Oh so you actually... was she healed from childbirth?”

“Hell no!  She nearly ripped herself apart. I think it was a hormonal thing, you know, everything trying to go back to its normal shape, like the body trying to right itself,” he said.

“Does that happen often?” Zeke asked, concerned.

“It was just that one day so far, and Nate is nearly six months now,” he said pausing. “Does Tameka need fresh stitches?”

“No, no, I didn’t. I didn’t think her body was ready...so well, anyhoo,” he said, finding himself blushing.

“Oh, you’re blushing. That is so cute,” Nate said, pinching his cheek.

“Yeah, fuck you, too,” Zeke responded, slapping his hand away. He could hear Sharon calling them in for dinner. “Hey Nate, where is your other son?”

“Rocky? He is at a sleepover,” Nate said, touching Zeke by the arm to slow his entrance into the house. “He’s not mine by blood, but in my head and heart, that is my son. They both were a contract that I risked everything to protect, and I have not regretted a single day of making the call to take her as my wife and give that boy my name.”

“I hear you,” Zeke said.

“If you are having any doubts, Zeke...”

“I have none.  She is meant to be my wife and that little girl is my angel. I’m the only father she shall ever know, even if that means having to pull this trigger more than once before turning in my badge as an Agent of our government,” he said, turning to go back in the house.

*****

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DINNER WITH THE MANN’S was quite possibly one of the loveliest evenings Tameka had ever spent in her life. The conversation was lively as they discussed books and movies, carefully avoiding politics out of respect to the inside scoop Zeke held on the White House operations. Tameka wanted to see the shop in the back, but Nate told her it was too dark to go out. Instead, she led him to the back porch, impressed with the deck which encircled the house.

“You can fish from right here, can’t you?”

“Yep,” he said, waiting for her to ask the question so he could tell her no.

“How much does it cost to activate that fax machine?” she said softly, peering over the edge of deck.

“In some cases, it can cost a mortal soul,” Nate replied.

“It’s not my soul I’m worried about,” she told him. “When the day comes and that redneck fool shows up with that jackass Sheriff, I fear for what he will do. The desire for a man to protect what’s his can sometimes outweigh logic and reason.”

“True, but your soul would be the one in jeopardy for setting the wheels in motion.  Once in motion, the cogs don’t stop simply because you’ve had a little talk with Jesus,” he told her.

“Odd that you would say that, because I spent 11 months in deep conversation with Him.  Quiet moments when I was present in the room, I could tune in to Jimmy Don bragging to me about shipments, a man named Michael Kurtzwilde, and his partnership with one Sheriff Jefferson Huckston. who has an affinity for young Asian women.  Kurtzwilde prefers young black women because no one ever comes looking for them,” she told Nate, whose body stiffened at the sound of his biological father’s name.

“Oh really,” he said, waiting for her counter move.

“My mind is like a steel trap. I sorted the information he gave me into little folders in my brain. If I sit long enough, I can open each folder and extract the information,” she said, turning to face him.

“I underestimated you,” Nate said.

“Men always do,” she said with a smile. “The information is yours to have at no cost. I want to see them shut down.”

“In return, I take the contract off the fax you just sent?” He used the terminology which opened the conversation.  She knew receiving a fax on the machine meant it was a contract for him to take. A life to end.  A deal sealed with a soul.

“I’m not sending you any fax! I only inquired about the usage of the machine itself, since you guys are on solar power. I am providing you with facts, information, and timelines. What you do with that information is entirely in your court. I’ve only asked you to protect my husband and your friend,” he said.

Nate watched her closely. It was a peculiar moment and unsettling. Zeke was right. Jimmy Don had no idea what he was dealing with in this woman. He only hoped that his new friend did. She hummed softly, looking over the edge of the deck as if she didn’t just offer to give him information to shut down the Macklemore operation in exchange for taking Jimmy Don’s life.

He needed a moment to process the enigma of one Tameka SheNanay Neary.

“Movie time,” Sharon called out.  “It’s going to be too late and too cold for you guys to take that baby out tonight, so please just plan to stay.”

“In that case, more wine, please,” Tameka called out as she sat on the couch under Zeke, his arm around her shoulder. She lifted her lips for a kiss which he returned with ease. “I really like you a lot.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Mrs. Neary,” he told her as the movie started.

****

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THE LAST SHIPMENT OF laundry came in from the Shady Acres Care Center.  Harley had secured the contract after his laundry was rebuilt after the fire.  In the past six months, at his father’s insistence, he’d managed to go out on one date with an airheaded woman obsessed with taking photos of herself doing the most mundane tasks.  He placed a quiet bet with himself that she probably snapped pics of herself taking a dump along with her preference for shit paper.

His phone chimed, thinking it was her, he all but ignored it. Tonight, he had plans for a pizza, a cold beer and to watch the remainder of Black on Netflix. Lifting the phone to place in his pocket, he looked down and saw the short message. His knees buckled at what he read.

Aisha had sent him a message.

He’d been right.

Jimmy Don had hurt his Cuddlebunny.