When Saint Goes Marching In (8 page)

Xenia
burst out laughing and clasped her hands together. She shot a look at Saint who feigned deep thoughts and was not finding much amusement in the situation.

“And you two make a lot of noise, especially Mommy,” Hassani added, not stopping his inquisition. “And you say bad words. Why?” Hassani looked into his father’s eyes, confusion all over his face.

Saint looked at Xenia, “We should have paid extra for the sound proof master suite option. That was so long ago though, we didn’t see this coming but I should’ve,” he whispered to Xenia who nodded in agreement. Saint rose from the bed, picking up Dakarai and left bedroom for a few moments. Then he returned and closed the bedroom door behind him.

“Dakarai is playing in his room for a second. I told him I’d be right back,” Saint said quietly as he looked over at Xenia and Hassani.

“What did you do that for?” Xenia asked, bewildered.

“Because we need to have a little chat with Hassani.”

Saint picked up the remote control and placed the television on mute.

“Oh no, not that. Saint, he is too young!” Xenia’s embarrassment spread across her face like a veil.

“No, he isn’t too young, Xenia,” Saint said seriously. “If he is saying these things, making observations and asking questions, then he needs to be told. I can talk to him about it in his terms, for his level of comprehension and understanding,” he assured.

Xenia
covered her face with her hands and looked down at her knees, and seemed to be on the verge of either laughing or running out of the room.

Hassani looked over at his father who scooted closer to him.

“Hassani, do you know the difference between boys and girls?” Saint asked.

Hassani nodded. “Yes.”

“Tell me what the differences are,” Saint requested.

“Boys have weewees and girls have hoohoos,” Hassani said proudly.

Saint laughed. “OK, yeah, that’s true. The weewees and hoohoos aren’t just there so you can pee,” Saint explained. “They are also there to make babies when you get older and when you fall in love, you can use them to make love.”

“Make love?” Hassani asked.

“Yes, that’s what your mother and I are doing when you try to turn the knob to our bedroom and it’s locked, and when you hear those noises.”

Xenia
smiled and put her head back down.

“You’ll like girls one day. One day you’ll get married.” Saint had had several dreams regarding his children. One that stood out in his mind was one where Hassani looked to be around seventeen or eighteen, looking like a younger version of himself, the center of plentiful female attention and loving every minute of it.

He saw Hassani’s first puppy love heartbreak and a quick glimpse of his wedding. Saint got to see his future daughter-in-law in advance. She was stunning from head to toe.

“No way!” Hassani protested.

“One day, that will all change and when it does, you will see girls totally differently,” Saint said as he looked at his son closely. “Have you heard of sex?” he asked.

“Yes,” Hassani answered.

“Where did you hear it from?” Saint asked.

“On TV. It’s called ‘doin’ it.’”

Saint rolled his eyes. “Yes, another way people talk about sex or making love is to call it ‘doing it.’ OK. What do you think it is?” Saint asked.

“I’m not sure. I know people kiss, like you and Mommy.”

“OK, sex, doing it and making love mean the same thing to many people. It’s when two people express themselves with their bodies. They show each other how much they love one another.”

Saint continued to discuss the topic with Hassani, causing Xenia to turn redder and redder.

“Sometimes people make love in a bed,” Saint continued to explain.

“Lame,” Xenia said under her breath, laughing.

Saint caught her reaction and smiled.
The bed was rare. I had her all over my penthouse. In the kitchen, bathroom, on the floor, up against every wall, even outside in the garage, in my damn car too many times to count!

Xenia
rolled her eyes at Saint. “Try to make this PG for the boy.”

Saint gave her a pointed look and continued. “When people make love, they may say things that you’re too young to really understand but those words are not used in anger. They are used because they are happy but they are still words that shouldn’t be used by a little boy.”

Hassani looked confused.

“Bad words aren’t always said because someone is mad, Hassani. Sometimes when someone is happy or excited, they can say them, too, but they are still grown up words and you shouldn’t say them.”

Hassani nodded in understanding as Saint continued to explain sex.

“And that’s called ‘intercourse’ which is another word for ‘sex,’ ‘doin’ it,’ and ‘making love,’ as well. It’s private, it’s just between your mother and I, so if our door is locked, then you should probably just go back to your room and wait unless what you need is important. If it’s important, then I want you to knock so we can let you in. That is a special time for Mommy and me, time alone. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” Hassani said. “If it feels good, why does Mommy scream like it hurts? She does it all the time. She screams late at night, it wakes me up – and sometimes early in the morning and sometimes, well, it happens a lot. We hear it all the time. Dakarai and I hear you, too, Daddy. Mommy says ‘ah-ah-ah-!’ and bad words and you say bad words too, Daddy, and then it gets real quiet and then it starts all over again.” Hassani put his hands up to his ears and shook his head.

“OK, you know what? I’m done!” Xenia laughed as she rose from the bed, walked into the bathroom and quickly closed the door behind herself. Saint snickered as he watched her disappear.

“Hassani, it doesn’t hurt, it just may sound like that. I’m not hurting your mother. She’s having a good time, we’re both having a good time, I promise you. I’m sorry we woke you up.” Saint controlled the laughter that bubbled at the pit of his stomach. “Sex is also how babies are made.” He watched confusion spread again over his son’s face.

“I think if you can see what I’m talking about, it will make it easier for you to understand. We will talk about this some more later, OK? I’ve got a book for children about sex and how babies are conceived and grow that I had from college. I think I know where it is in storage. I’ll show it to you, OK?” Saint said as he rubbed Hassani’s head. “Do you have any more questions right now though?”

Hassani shook his head. “I’m never having sex. People scream and say bad words and you can make babies. Gross. Can we get ice-cream now?” he asked.

Saint burst out laughing. “Yeah little man, we can get ice-cream now,” Saint said as he rubbed his son’s hair and laughed harder.

* * *

Three weeks later…

“He killed another one.”

Saint turned around in the revolving chair in James’ office as he spoke.

James nodded and clasped his heavy hands together, hands worn with time, age spots and an early life of hard work on a farm in Ohio before his family moved to California and owned several vineyards.

Saint briefly looked out James’ window. The sky was filled with dark gray clouds and threats of thunder and lightning.

“This is fucked up,” he sighed as he adjusted himself in the dark brown leather chair. “So, when are we going to Missouri?”

“You and George are going in the next few days. Please interview Mr. Clayman and his wife, and get as much information as you can.”

Saint nodded in agreement. His cell phone rang. He looked down and saw Xenia’s cell phone number.

He stood. “James, it’s my wife. Let me answer this please. I’ll be right back.”

James smiled and waved him off. “No problem. Tell Xenia I said hello.”

Saint nodded and rushed out of James’ office, to stand directly outside the door.

“Hey baby, I’m meeting with James about that Missouri case. What’s up?” he asked as he reached down and fixed his sock that had slightly bunched up.

“Saint, I can barely hear myself think. The guys are here soundproofing our bedroom and of course there is stuff everywhere and the walls are a mess but I’m calling because I need you to watch the boys tonight. The babysitter is already booked and my mom isn’t able to do it. She’s got bingo and I really want to go to dinner with the girls,” Xenia said exhaustedly.

“Baby, I can’t. James hasn’t been in town all week and this meeting was over-due. I will have to go out of town soon to take care of some interviews, as well as do a mini-conference for some of the guys there. It’s really important because there is someone…”

“I know. You told me, Saint,” Xenia sighed. “There is someone targeting Rainbeaus and their Queens. Why are you even involved in this, Saint? The police should be handling this! You have a wife and children. You don’t need to be going down there interviewing anyone. This is dangerous. What if something happened to you? You’ll be down there snooping around and there could be consequences. I’m worried.”

“Xenia, I have to. I promise you I’ll be OK. You knew what I did when we met. This isn’t the first time I’ve been on a case. I told you before we got married, all about the hate groups that harass me and other Rainbeaus. I told you that it would take a special woman to be able to handle me, my career, my desires and just be by my side through it all. You’re her, but now you’re starting to get cold feet, I’ve noticed lately. You’ve changed your mind mid-way, but Xenia, you can’t. You want me, but you want me without all of this drama. I understand that, but it just can’t happen that way. I need you now more than ever.”

“And I need
you
!”

 Saint grimaced, “I asked you if you understood sacrifices would need to be made. You agreed to it and now you’re getting mad at me because I have obligations.”

“Saint, your obligations need to be to your family! Don’t get me wrong, you are a caring, loving husband and great father, you really are, but I’m concerned about some of these assignments. They are getting worse and worse. It’s one thing to help a twenty-one year old boy who was kicked out of his house or a couple that are having marital problems in the bedroom. It’s another to be trying to track down a serial killer! I knew you’d be doing conferences. I even understood about the occasional house-call therapy sessions – that is disturbing enough within itself, and you’ve always kept it one-hundred with me. But this – running around trying to help catch a mass murderer – nuh uh! Everyone knows who you are. If this crazy lunatic gets a hold of you, it’s a wrap.”

He needs to be worried about me getting a hold of him, not the other way around
.

“You were right the first time.”

“What?” Xenia asked in confusion.

“He’s a serial killer, not a mass murderer. A mass murderer is…”

“Saint, shut up! You know the point I’m trying to make here.”

“Baby, I’ll be fine. I can handle this. I promise to be careful.”

Saint could just imagine her rolling her eyes. “Well, just get home when you can tonight, I guess. Saint?”