Blind Spot, page 13
Tonight, he needed rest.
Chapter 14- King Midas
At 6 in the morning, Slow was up. He completed his morning workout by chopping firewood for the upcoming winter and the cold snap coming through over the weekend. At a quarter till seven, he’d start his shower, get dressed five minutes after the hour, and then he would make breakfast.
A neat orderly life, broken down into quarter-hour increments, and still, he managed to get him and the girl out of the door by a quarter of eight and to his office. This morning, he only needed to take Naomi to meet his mother. Later, he needed to have a long overdue conversation with Cherry, and possibly, if all went well, he could spend the night snuggled up with Naomi’s Momma.
He didn’t know if he still had the golden touch of King Midas. The lone player was out of the game, and the interest to wade in the water didn’t appeal much anymore. All he wanted now was to come home to somebody happy to see him. He’d considered a dog once, but that was too much time. On occasion, he wanted to take his rifle into the woods, stalk some shit, and take it down. Using one of his really big knives, he would jam the blade into the gut of the animal, cutting deep, feeling the warmth of the blood ooze down his forearms. The coppery scent of the blood mixed with his adrenalin, and life, well, life could go on.
The sound of small feet in bunny slippers came down the hall. From the kitchen, where he sizzled venison sausage and whipped batter for pecan waffles, he watched his daughter. The head wrap still around her hair, the fuzzy pink robe cinched at the waist, she called out, “Morning, Daddy.”
“Morning Bunny,” he said back, watching her.
Naomi stopped in the middle of the floor, her arms outspread as if the wine she’d been drinking had finally kicked in and she had a dizzy spell. The small head turned left, then right, stopping when she spied the wine glass on the coffee table. Her feet hadn’t moved as she leaned back, looking into her father’s bedroom. The door was open and the bed was made. She craned her neck to the second bedroom, noticing that the door was closed, which it hadn’t been the entire time she was with her father.
Her feet dragged a little as she went to the door, tapped lightly, then cracked it to peer inside.
“Hmmph,” she said and closed the door.
As if she’d seen nothing of consequence, she made her way to the kitchen table, waiting for her waffle. Slow preferred a low-sugar, if not sugar-free syrup or fresh fruit on his waffles with a tad bit of powdered sugar. It was the way his Ma made them and the way he liked to eat them, and now, so did his daughter.
She didn’t mention seeing her mother in the bed in the other room, so he wouldn’t bring it up either. In some circles, where he had traveled or worked, this scenario would have been a major red flag. In this case, he was sure since it was early if Cherry often worked nights and the child didn’t want to wake her, or something altogether different. He would reserve judgment to watch it all play out.
“Good waffles, Daddy,” she told him. “Imma get dressed. What time do I meet my Grandma today? I really want to try those cookies.”
“I’m thinking we’ll head over around lunch,” he said, looking back at the guest bedroom door.
“Okay, should I wear a dress or pants?”
“I’ll let you choose.”
“I want her to like me,” Naomi said, looking at him with such intensity that it nearly made his heart stop. She’d risen from the chair to come to stand at his side.
“Bunny, my Momma is going to love you, almost as much as I love you, but I’m not sure that’s possible,” he said, giving her a smile.
She gave him the Neary stare. She had a thing on her mind. She asked, “Do you love me enough to let me stay with you if she wants us to go back home?”
He set his knife and fork down. His entire body swiveled in the chair to look at his daughter who stood beside him. It didn’t matter what he had to do, this was Naomi’s home. This is where she’d grow up.
“Bunny, you tell me what you want me to do, and I will try my best to make it happen,” he said to her.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she said, pulling on his arm to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I love you too.”
She cleared her plate, walking away as if she understood the way the world operated. For a second, he felt that she had a better understanding of what was coming his way than he did. He didn’t react when the bedroom door opened and Shenita hobbled out.
“Good morning, Michael,” she said.
“I made waffles and sausage, and coffee is on,” he said, watching the door, waiting for the second half of the party to make an appearance.
As soon as Shenita finished in the bathroom, Cherry made her entrance. The shoulder-length hair was a mess, her pajamas were twisted, and the seam of the pants floundered to one butt cheek. It saddened him that such a sight turned him the hell on. The discomfort he felt meant the ladies would have to make their own damned waffles because he was not about to stand up and run the risk of Naomi seeing him in such a state.
Or Shenita.
Hell, he didn’t want Cherry to know she still had that effect on him either. Naomi, Lord bless her small soul, saved the day. She came down the hall ahead of her mother, coming to sit at the table, ready for Slow to do her hair. It was enough time for the blood to return to the head which held thoughts, as he stood, taking the comb and brush to add a new set of ponytails. This time, he would do three.
Cherry returned to the kitchen as he started to part the hair and add a bit of oil his sister had brought from her shop. He deftly maneuvered the bands, combed through the hair, carefully braiding each ponytail, fashioning the braids into mini balls, secured by bunny rabbit clips.
“Well, that is impressive,” Cherry said, looking at her daughter. “Hey there little lady. Did you miss me?”
“I sure did, Mommy,” she said, waiting for her father to finish her hair. When he was all done, she bounded from the seat into her mother’s arms, then rounded the kitchen island to hug and kiss her ‘Auntie Nita.’
Cherry, not wanting food so early in the morning, accepted the coffee Shenita poured, rising to carry her cousin’s plate to the table.
“Mommy! I have so much to tell you,” Naomi said. “I go to a school! I have a best friend named Makayla, and she is so much fun. My teacher, she learns us so much, but I had to help my bestie, that’s Makayla, learn to count to twenty.”
“Oh really,” Cherry said, watching the animated face.
“Mommy! I go to dance classes too,” she said, bounding to her feet. “We have this recibal next week, I think that’s the word, and the whole class is going to dance like this. I have some fancy moves that I do like this, and I turn and drop to the floor. Boom!”
“Wow,” Cherry said, watching her twirl about the floor.
“And today, I’m going to go and meet my Grandma. I met my Grandpa and my Aunt Becka, but she smells funny,” Naomi said. “My Grandpa, tried to kiss me, like the boy Timmy did in school, and Mommy, I hit that man in the mouth.”
“What?” she said, looking over at Slow, who simply nodded his head.
“Mommy, some people just are rude,” Naomi explained, shifting gears. “I love it here and my daddy, Michael Isaac Neary, is the best daddy ever. You must not like him too much, because you didn’t sleep in the bed with him. You’re not ready to make another baby? I know my Daddy would like a boy to teach to hunt and fish, ‘cause I don’t want to do that kind of stuff ever.”
Shenita sat with her mouth open wide the entire time Naomi talked. She’d never heard the child talk that much in her entire four years of life. She also wasn’t aware the girl liked to dance, knew how to fight, or knew that a mommy and daddy sharing a bed could make more kids. Her stare went to Slow. He shrugged his shoulders.
“A bit heavy on the sugar this morning, Slow?”
“What sugar, the light dusting of powder? We had fruit with the waffles and sugar-free syrup,” he explained. “She’s always like this.”
“No, she’s not,” Cherry said, shaking her head slowly.
Naomi was on a roll and not about to slow down, “Mommy and Aunt Nita, guess what else?”
Cherry arched her brow, “There’s more?”
“Yes! Daddy bought Aunt Nita a house,” she said proudly, walking to the back door. She opened the inner door where the alarm wasn’t attached to show the clear glass door to the backyard. “He made me a tire swing back there in that tree, and I felt like I was flying. See! Over there is your house, Aunt Nita. Mommy can stay here with me and Daddy. But you can have your own house, over there, and Mommy can sleep in the room with my Daddy. I’m not sharing my room. Mommy, did you see my room? It is awesome. Come on, let me show you!”
She was moving down the hall, marching like a mini soldier going to fuck some shit up for the Munchkins in the Lollipop Guild. Cherry looked at him with a blank stare and Michael Isaac Neary didn’t have anything to say. He did, however, need to get out of the house for a minute. Too much was happening all at once and he needed a break.
“We’re heading to my Ma’s for lunch, ladies,” he announced. “I should be back by then.”
He disengaged the alarm, grabbed a set of keys, and headed out the back door. Giving it a second thought, he popped his head into the back door. Slow pointed to the key rack.
“Shenita, the keys to your house are on the pink ring if you are up to checking it out. It has water and power, but not much else,” he said. “My mother has so much stuff in the attic I’m sure we can figure out how your place gets furnished.”
“You bought me a house?” Shenita said, staring at him. She tried to fight back the tears, but the salty droplets of reflection were threatening to take over the conversation. Sniffling a bit to hold back the tide of saltwater trying to burst through her face, she attempted to make eye contact with the man.
“No, I created a place for you to call home and feel safe, Shenita,” he said. “I have resources at my disposal when you’re ready to talk to someone about it...or simply be in a room with others who understand, we shall be ready. Right now, that’s your safe space so you don’t have to feel like you’re imposing on me. It’s yours. As long as you want it.”
“Thank you, Michael,” she said, wiping away a wayward tear that escaped her eye ducts.
“It’s the least I could do for spending four years of your life taking care of my baby,” he said, walking away.
Shenita wasn’t certain which baby he was talking about. For the past four years, she’d taken care of both mother and daughter. Even if Cherry hadn’t acknowledged what Naomi asked for, the child’s father did. Naomi Ruth Neary was home. She had friends and a school and was taking dance classes which, she obviously loved. Naomi also loved her father and the room she didn’t plan to share. Aunt Nita was put on notice to move out of their home into her own so her mom and dad could share a bed to make her a brother. In one run-on sentence, Naomi had said it all.
Cherry heard her daughter as well.
NAOMI WAS CORRECT IN her assessment; her bedroom was indeed awesome. Since the time she’d moved in, a few other accessories had been added, including hooks for her coat, cape, and scarves. A rack for her shoes sat neatly beside a closet, low enough for her to reach in to select her clothing choices for the day. The bright vivid colors matched the energy of the little girl who stood next to the bed, prouder than a perky peach getting its first blush from the Southern morning sun.
“Mommy, this is my Princess Poppy room, and that is Branch,” Naomi said, pointing to the stuffed doll. “This is my closet and over here is where I put my leo-pard, tights and dancing slippers. I am so excited about the dance recibal, I can barely keep still!”
“I see,” Cherry said, walking around the room. The walls held her twelve-day history with her father, of framed art from her daycare and macaroni faces on construction paper.
“I can’t wait to meet my Grandma too,” Naomi explained, tidying up the shoe rack. “Makayla, my best friend, she said her Grandma bakes cakes! Cakes and pies, Mommy! I am hoping my Grandma can bake cakes because I like cake. A lot.”
“If Ruth can bake cookies, I’m sure she can bake a cake,” Cherry said, wanting to ask her daughter questions about her stay with her father. Naomi was ahead of her, but she asked, “You seem really hyped up. Did you sneak into some candy?”
“No, Daddy doesn’t buy sweets,” she said. “I’m happy. I like being happy. I am so happy here and him is the best daddy ever! Mommy, do you know what happened?”
Cherry’s eyebrows went up, “What happened, Sweetie?”
“One night,” she started, then took a seat in her Princess Poppy royal throne of a chair, and actually crossed her legs. “Mommy, it rained so hard. The boom sounds were outside and I was soooo scared. I was crynin’ and then a loud crash and I screamed so loud and Daddy came running. Do you know what he did? That chair. Right there, Mommy, he sat in it and held my hand until I fell asleep. He thought I was sleep, and he said he loved me and then he kissed me. Right here. Right on my cheek and then on top of my head. I love him, Mommy. He is so awesome.”
“Naomi, a good life and being happy isn’t just about the stuff a person gives you, it’s also about love and caring for how other people feel,” she told her child.
“Mommy, he cares about how I feel! Him had to wipe my butt to keep me from having peanut butter panties, so we went to the store and got a thingy for the toilet. When I poop, and I’m all done, I turn the handle, just a little, and water shoots up my butt and washes away the peanut butter. Daddy said he wanted me to feel im-ma-pen-dent, and I do.”
Her legs were still crossed while she stared at her mother. She was giving her mother the same damned look Slow gave when he was adding big numbers in his head, then coming up with a solution that was going to more than likely piss her the hell off. Cherry waited for Naomi’s closing argument.
“Mommy, I want to stay with my daddy,” she explained. “He has a lot of love to share with me, and him is going to teach me to ride a bike and drive the golf cart and him truck when I can reach the pedals. I help him cook, and he reads me a story every night, and on Friday, which is the last night of the school week, we watch movies. Did you know Princess Poppy has a movie? It is so good. They sing and dance, and me and Daddy was singing and dancing with them too. We have to stay with him so he can feel love too.”
“Baby, it’s not so simple for grown people to always get along like that; I wish we did,” Cherry said, only to look up at Naomi’s unforgiving face. She opened her tiny mouth and stated the heavy words which hit Cherry in the chest like a blow from a sledgehammer.
“The house Daddy bought for Aunt Nita’s is pretty big, so I guess you gonna live over there with her?”
Naomi was done with the conversation. The child held up her two fingers, in the form of a peace sign as if she were trademarking her own hashtag with #bunnyout. She stood to her tiny little height, filled with tiny little attitude, and grabbed her coat, gloves, and hat, leaving her mother in the bedroom alone. Slowly, as Cherry got to her feet, she followed her daughter to find her cousin up and moving with a pair of crutches.
“What are you doing, Shenita?”
“Michael brought me these crutches, plus there’s a golf cart by the back door,” she said. “I have the keys to the house and I want to see. The man bought me a house! I need to see this.”
She hobbled along on the crutches, placing minimal weight on her feet. She managed to make it out the door, down the back steps, and into the golf cart. A bundled-up Naomi sat on the rear seat, holding on as Shenita cranked it up to drive across the property to her new home. It was a double-wide trailer with fancy finishes and she’d never seen anything more beautiful in her life.
Naomi was right; they were all home.
Chapter 15- Three Billy Goats Gruff
“I’m home! Ma, Daddy, I’m home,” Slow called out to his parents. The smell of freshly baked peanut butter cookies filled the air, and he inhaled the happy scent while his stomach rumbled. Slow removed his jacket, aiding Naomi in doing the same. He said little to Shenita or to Cherry as they inched their way inside the Southern Colonial-style home.
The house was pretty much everything Cherry had imagined a man like Slow grew up in. A modern home with shiny fixtures, floors that shone from hand-waxed gloss, more than likely done by a diminutive woman named Lupe, and flat-screen televisions which nestled into custom-made nooks on walls. The pillows matched the drapes, which color coordinated with the rugs on the floor, and not a speck of dust could be seen anywhere. Then, the woman who maintained the home came around the corner and it took everything in her not to burst out laughing.
It was the look. That same look Slow gave to people when he was thinking or looking for chinks in the armor of a wounded soldier was the exact same look Ruth Neary gave to Cherry. Then her eyes went to Naomi.
“Hi Grandma,” Naomi said, and the woman physically melted. The I’m going to cut your tongue out and slice up your liver to make pate for these crackers− look went away, and she dropped to one knee.
“Well, hello my beautiful little angel. I am Ruth Naomi Neary,” she said to the little girl, “and what is your name?”
“My name is Naomi Ruth Neary,” Naomi said, grinning. “I smell peanut butter cookies. Grandma, did you make me peanut butter cookies?”
“I made them for everyone,” she said, smiling at the child.
Naomi cocked her head. “You want to hug and kiss me, don’t you? It’s okay. You look like you give good hugs. Go ahead.”
Ruth stood up, looking down at the conundrum who had walked in the front door calling her grandma. “You can give me a hug and a kiss when you’re ready, Naomi. And Michael, are you going to introduce me to your family...Mark, they’re here!”
Mark Neary rounded the corner to see the family his son had brought home, and he smiled at them all. His eyes rested on Cherry then moved to Shenita, who looked scared. He offered a wide smile, allowing the crow’s feet to settle at the corner of his eyes.
