Down 'N' Derby (29 page)

             
“Hi.” She mouthed.

             
I just smiled, my goofy ass couldn’t even form a word right now. 

             
Owen slapped me on the back again and I shot him a look that meant ‘what the hell do you want?’  Everyone giggled and I realized the pastor had been speaking to me. 

             
“Sorry,” I said to him.  But at least it relieved some of the tension. 

             
He proceeded to speak to us of commitment, of love, of cherishing each other and staying together in sickness and in health.  She never would have to worry about those things.  We’d gone through good times and bad already.  I’d cherished her in every way I knew how except one, which would change that night.  I repeated the vows like I was supposed to but they were just that, repetitions.  I’d vowed to love her for the rest of my life a long time ago. 

             
Our rings were passed from my dad to my mom, through my sisters, I had two of them now, through Mad and Owen and then to me.  Reed had gotten the idea on the internet of each of our family blessing the rings with their words and love right before we put them on.  I wished they’d gone through Nixon as well but he wasn’t here. 

             
I placed the ring on her finger.  The pastor spilled out words but he didn’t know how long I’d waited for her to officially be mine.  He didn’t know how she looked at me in the morning.  He didn’t know the ways she loved me without touching me.  He didn’t know that she was a part of me, with or without a ring.  He didn’t know how I loved simply to love her.

             
And when I was given permission to kiss the bride, I kissed her so that when we were old and gray she’d touch her wrinkled lips and remember this day.

             
She was my Poppy.  My sun on a Sunday morning.  My flower in a field of weeds.  My smile among sobs.  My hope among sorrow.  My saving grace. 

             
That night I watched my family rejoice with us.  Mom and Dad danced like they were kids.  Owen and Nellie had broken Reed and I up several times, claiming we were hogging each other.  Mad and Storey were stuck to each other like glue.  I went with him the week before to help him pick out a heart shaped necklace for her.  Those two were the worst ones in the family about displays of affection. But after he’d been deprived of it for so long, we didn’t blame him one bit. 

             
I got Reed back for one final dance before we left for Hawaii.  She had no idea, thank God my girl loved surprises.  Nellie and Storey packed her a separate suitcase since she’d packed for cold weather. 

             
“You remembered the church,” she said.

             
“Of course I did.  How could I forget something so important to you?”

             
“And you remembered the rose.” She picked up the pendant on the necklace.  I silently thanked Nellie for remembering to give it to her. 

             
“I stole it from your jewelry box.  I wanted it to be with you today.”

             
“What did I do to deserve you,” She asked no one in particular.

             
“You loved me.  You saw me and you loved me.”

             
She kissed me—and now when she kissed me, it was my wife kissing me and it was priceless. 

             
“You ready to get out of here?” Reed whispered, looking up at me.  She’d nixed the veil a long time ago and I was ready to nix the rest of the outfit too. 

             
“I am.  Should we sneak or should we tell them,” I spoke against her neck, right under her earlobe, where it drove her mad.

             
“Get me out of here now.” She panted back at me. 

             
“Let’s go Mrs. Black.”

The End

One Year Later

Lila Felix

             
This was one of my favorite parts of being an author.  I get to have a real relationship with my characters.  They have become more than peoples’ names typed onto a manuscript. They’ve become my sons and my daughters.  They are my friends and my siblings.  So, like any people that I love, I go visit them.  And the Black family is no exception.

             
I walked into the restaurant.  The décor has been updated since I saw it last.  I saw Sylvia flutter through the dining area into the kitchen, the door swinging behind her.  Over to the left I saw them sitting around a large table.  I took a moment to observe them here at their best.  Owen and Nellie were cuddled close, his hand on her ever growing belly, the cocoon for their baby.  Falcon and Reed, whispering secrets to each other.  Maddox and Storey, conversing back and forth, always making new plans, always finding ways to create memories.  Chase and Sylvia exited the kitchen together, both holding trays of steaming plates. 

             
I walked around the hostess station and into their view.  Nellie was the first to greet me, hugging my neck until I could barely breathe.  That was fitting.  She was my first derby girl, and would always, always be my favorite—but don’t tell the others.  I was passed around the family, getting smothered by the boys and coddled by the girls.  I felt at home here, among my people. 

             
They asked me about my books, my writing, and it was a short conversation.  I came here to talk to them, find out how the people, who sprung from the depths of my soul and the love in my heart, were getting on. 

             
Chase cleared his throat and began.  Sylvia and he had been helping Winston, Chase’s brother with Abbey, his estranged wife and Nixon’s mother.  He moved on before I could really get into the Nixon subject.  I had been concerned about Nixon for a while. 

             
Owen took over, the proud Papa, saying how well Nellie was doing with this pregnancy.  She only had three more months to go and the doctor watched her closely this time around.  He gushed about baby names, mostly boy names since he so desperately wanted a son.  Sylvia and Nellie moved to talking about layettes and nursery decorations.

             
“Lila, you have to come to the baby shower.  In fact, I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” Nellie insisted. 

             
“Of course, I’ll be there.  I wouldn’t miss it.” I answered. 

             
I looked to Maddox and he smiled at me.  He and I emailed and texted frequently.  He somehow felt indebted to me for finding Storey.  But he owed me no debt, it was his story, and I simply put words to his melody.  He and Storey were still in school, determined to finish before they even spoke about marriage.  But anyone who saw those two knew that one day they’d be together for a very long time.  Maddox had worked so hard, it looked like he would be graduating a full year ahead of schedule.  I thought that was part of his plan and I could see the confirmation in his signature smirk.  The faster he graduated, the faster he and Storey would be married. 

             
We continued eating and I needed to get an update from Falcon, but I already knew what was going on in their lives.  Falcon and I texted every day.  Sometimes it seemed more like one broken up conversation rather than several different ones.  I knew that he and Reed were trying to get pregnant.  But they didn’t want to steal any of Nellie’s thunder, especially with this pregnancy.  Falcon was now finished with school and still handled payroll for the family, but had also started a successful tax preparation company. And Reed would soon start her sophomore year at Tulane.  She and Falcon didn’t have that infamous first year of marriage, they’d been through enough and never took anything for granted.  And even though I knew all of this, Falcon told it to me like I had no clue. 

             
I didn’t want to ask so I waited until after everyone had finished dessert before delving into the subject.  After I watched all forks rest on plates I asked the question, not really sure if I wanted to hear the answer.  After all, when these people hurt, I hurt.  When they cried, I cried.  When they fell in love, I was the first to know.  And when their hearts ached, I ached as if it were my own heart cracking. 

             
“What’s going on with Nixon?  He won’t take my calls and he doesn’t answer text messages.  I went by the house the other day and no one was home.”

             
They all looked to each other and of course it was Falcon who spoke up first. 

             
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry.  He’s gone a little wild.”

             
“A little,” Owen scoffed, “He’s wilder than I ever was when I went nuts over…you know.” He almost said ‘Amy’ but was intercepted by a very fierce and pregnant Nellie.

             
Falcon rolled his eyes and continued, “Ever since his mom, he stays out all night, he’s screwing everything that moves, he smokes, he drinks.  I went over there a couple of months ago and I swear he’d been smoking pot.  We’ve all tried to intervene but it looks like something world shattering will have to happen before he ceases and desists.”

             
Everyone at the table was at a loss, including me.  I cleared my throat, the beginnings of tears welled in my eyes.

             
“Is he angry or hurting?”

             
Falcon shrugged, “I don’t know.  Either way he’s on a path of destruction.”

             
“I guess we’ll just have to see how it plays out.” 

             
They all nodded in response.  This was the hard part.  I had to sit back and watch them suffer sometimes.  And remembering that they usually came out better on the other side didn’t help one damned bit.  I held in the waterworks until I got to the parking lot.  But of course, someone was following me.  I turned to find Mad and Storey behind me, looks of sympathy on their faces.

             
“Lila, it will work out.  Remember how you used to worry about us?” I nodded.  I had worried about those two kids constantly. 

             
They both hugged me and I got into the car.  Maddox made a motion for me to put my window down, so I did.

             
“Don’t stay away so long next time, Lila.  We miss your mug around here.”  I nodded and drove off. 

             
But my mind would stay twisted about Nixon until I knew my son, my friend, my brother, was ok.  They were created in my mind but now they were embedded in my heart.  How could Nixon recover from this, and what condition would he be in on the other side?

Caught In a Jam

Nixon Montgomery Black

Three years later

She only wore pink on Sundays.

             
I swear, if it weren’t for coffee and Aunt Sylvia’s food, I wouldn’t survive.  I actually had two coffee pots.  One for home with the largest capacity carafe I could find.  And another at work which I bought myself since they didn’t provide coffee.  Seriously, what kind of construction site doesn’t have coffee?  I woke up to it, I used it as a crutch during the day, and as soon as we got home every night I’d push the flashing red button and listen for the drip. 

             
Tonight was especially exhausting.  I worked a ten hour shift and then went to derby practice for an hour.  Yes, even zebras go to practices sometimes just to keep their skills in check.  But after lifting and walking all day it wasn’t my first pick of activities.  We ate dinner, thanks to Sylvia I didn’t have to cook, and went through our nightly routine.

             
Now here I sat on living room couch alone while she slept.  I was supposed to finish a slide show for my Econ class but the longer I sat here, the more it didn’t get done.  I sat back into the cushions and closed my eyes as the last sip of coffee ran down my throat.  And like they did every night, my thoughts drifted to Journey.

             
I’d heard things through the proverbial vine, some I treasured and some I despised.  I despised hearing that she’d married Justin after finishing school.  But she’d given up on her dream of being a nurse in favor of the title of Mrs. Conrad; never even stepping foot in a hospital.  But then again, I’d also heard she had quit school to become a stripper and Justin had moved on.  Who knew what the real truth was?  I’d only heard one that I really believed.  That she’d decided to start some rebellion against an administrator at Duke University—now that sounded like her.

             
I got up and made another cup, stirring in way too much creamer, so much that my coffee was now cold.  I peeked into the bedroom and she was sound asleep. When I closed the bedroom door it squeaked and she rolled over but remained dormant.  It was a shame to feel this way.  I felt guilty every night when I sat here alone and completely reveled in just the state of being alone with my thoughts of Journey.  But I needed it and felt the withdrawals if I shied away.