Melodic RedemptionChapter 5
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Lovely, languid, quiet Saturday morning. Waking up next to a soft form. I have to touch that sweetly curved hip, just to tell myself I am not dreaming. The touch elicits a purr and a movement, several movements, actually, one of which put an arm around me. The hand at the end of the arm started exploring, finding morning wood.
"Mmmmm, Stoney, is that for me?"
"Yes, but be careful. It's loaded."
"I thought we emptied it last night," she said, twisting in the bed. Her head dipped for a quick suck. "I love doing this to you, Stoney. You look so appreciative."
"I'm surprised that I have enough presence of mind to work up an expression at all," I said, then sucked a breath in sharply as her head dipped down.
"You do know that I expect quid pro quo?" And another sliding suck, this time with teeth.
"I was hoping so. You're delicious."
Okay, after that, showers were required, and following the showers, breakfast up the street at the corner diner, a short walk.
"We could've called your mom and dad," I said.
"What?" She giggled. "We could've got them right in the middle of..."
"You think?"
"I KNOW," she grinned. "Mom relates that with me in college and out from underfoot, Dad has renewed interest."
I laughed, then thought about that. "When I'm your dad's age, I hope you still..."
"I will wear you out, boy," she said.
"I will spend the rest of my life hoping that you try," I laughed. Hand in hand we walked down the block to the restaurant, took our time with breakfast and coffee.
This was a frequent haunt for me, pre-Johanna, so the sudden appearance of her on my arm, punctuated with two gold wedding bands was a reason for several of the other regulars to approach and exchange small talk. Jo handled it well, gracious, smiling, even funny.
How about that! A mate that I'm actually happy to show to the general population. No screaming offspring of her and a disappeared daddy. No gum-popping 'I'm quitting smoking THIS time. For real!'. No 'We were drunk an' partyin' and I got really blitzed and it's just a little tattoo.' No, this was intelligent, red-headed, talented, sociable and pretty in a startling way.
"You're thinking again," she said as the last greeter walked away.
"Not really. Just being impressed."
"At what?"
"At my good sense," I said.
Blue eyes laughed. "And what tells you that you have good sense this time?"
I looked at her over my coffee cup. "That I had the good sense to wait until you showed up to fall in love."
She giggled. "Like you had a choice in the matter."
"I really didn't," I said. "No choice at all. You or nobody."
"You two sure look happy," the waitress said when she delivered our ticket. "Stoney, you married a real doll."
"Thank you," Jo said.
"I did," I replied.
"I was wondering," the waitress replied. She's one of my favorites, fiftyish, competent, comfortable with the job, her bantering with the Saturday morning regulars was sharp and flirty. I think she saw me as an anomaly, younger than a lot of the regulars, but not one of the occasional smart-mouthed youngsters that showed up, either. "You never showed up with anyone before. And when you do? Bang! Married!"
"Yeah," I said, doing my best 'Aw, shucks' act. "I found Johanna."
"And I found him," Jo said. "So I'm keeping him." She grinned, all the way to where her nose wrinkles, a move that stopped my heart the first time she did it to me.
I dragged my credit card out to pay the tab and after I signed the ticket, we left to walk back to the apartment
"You're not nervous?" I asked.
"Why? This is what I do. There are a few things I live for, Stoney. Mom and Dad, music, and you. And none of them make me nervous."
I knew inside my head that she was right. The first time I saw her in concert, poised, confident, adept, her and her love of her music putting that smile on her face. "You're right. It's your gift."
"One of 'em," she said, swinging my hand in hers. "You're the other one."
No lunch with her parents today. They were meeting with old friends. We went by Jo's old apartment and talked with Key.
"Where's Hutch?" I asked.
"Setting up some equipment at a new bank in Arizona," Key said. "Won't be back until next week. That's why we decided for him to not move in. He's got his place and when he's in town, I'm there. But right now they're shifting over their whole hardware setup and he's not staying in town much, and Jo knows I don't like bein' by myself, so I stay here with Katrina, she gets a place, I get a place, an' when Hutch gets back ... An' Cherie likes going to the markets on Saturday morning. She'll be back in a bit."
Her eyes bounced back and forth between me and Jo. "You wearin' your Dad's coat this year?"
"Nope. Stoney's."
"I was wondering ... Hutch said something about that new law about wearing military decorations..."
"We talked to a federal prosecutor, remember?" Jo said. "We've been doing this. The new law is about impersonating a serviceman or veteran. We don't represent ourselves as anything, we wear those things to honor family members who've served."
"That's what I thought. But Hutch keeps askin'," Key said. "Said he'd hate for me to get arrested for wearin' Great Granpa's Eisenhower jacket."
"Eisenhower jacket?" I asked.
"You know your military history, husband of my friend?" she said.
"Try me."
"Red Ball Express."
"Easy," I said. "World War II. Europe. A slang name for a transportation unit with black enlisted men and mostly white officers. Pulled off some really epic logistics feats."
"Papaw was a master sergeant in the Red Ball Express. I got his jacket. I wear it for our Veterans' Day concert. Jo's been wearin' her dad's, but this year she's yours..."
"Or I'm hers..."
"Whatever, white boy," she laughed, flashing that smile.
"What about you and Hutch? Serious?" I asked.
"Yaknow," she said, "we are. He doesn't want to do that shack-up thang, and I know it would kill my mom an' dad if I did."
"So marriage?" Jo squealed.
"Not a formal announcement, but after graduation some time." She smiled.
I liked Key. Like I said early in the relationship between me and Jo, Key was more than a little attractive. Had she not been eclipsed by Johanna, and had she, like Johanna, shown a bit of interest. Her being black? Not a problem to me, although I wondered idly how a mixed race relationship might work where the girl was as obviously connected to family as Key was.
It was because I liked Key that I found her indications of her choice of futures to be a pleasant topic for discussion. "I hope Hutch knows what sort of person he's messing with."
"Oh," she said, lapsing into her version of ghetto vernacular, "he don't be messin'. He be completely serious."
Jo squealed in glee. "I'm sooo happy for you, Key!"
"Me too," I said, "even though you never got to present me to your folks."
Key laughed. "You know, next time I get 'em here for a weekend, you two need to join us. They loved Jo. They'll be interested in what it took to carry 'er off."
"Then they'll be happy it was Stoney," Jo said. "Just like I imagine they're happy about you and Hutch. They HAVE met Hutch, right?"
"I sent 'em pictures. Does that count?"
"But they know you're serious?" Jo asked.
"Yeah, they know we're more serious than I usually am." Key grinned. "If Hutch makes it back today, we may just tell 'em tonight."
"Do you anticipate issues?" I asked. "I mean, I've seen the guy a couple of times and he seems nice."
"He IS nice," Key said. "He's not full of himself and tryin' to prove some sort of 'street cred' by acting ghetto and treating women like fixtures in a rap video." She saw my expression and rolled on. "I want a guy like Dad, not some baggy-pants'ed bozo flashin' gang signs."
"Don't egg 'er on, Stoney," Jo said, "Unless you want to hear one of a series of presentations entitled 'Keshia's Observations On Positive Role Models'."
Key's face twisted in feigned horror. "Seriously? Was I that bad?"
Jo laughed. "No, you were not! You were memorable, though."
"Stoney, just so you aren't misled by my erstwhile room-mate, she and I had some long, serious talks about life and those who populate it."
"A suitable topic, no doubt," I said.
"Another word for it is gossip," Key laughed. "But with a goal."
"Strictly intellectual, then? No prurient interest?" I asked.
"Oh, no. We were very careful to be all sensitive and understanding and stuff," Key laughed. Jo laughed right along with her.
"And tell me that guys don't do that," Jo smirked.
"We don't," I said. "We stand around the coffee-maker discussing world events and emerging technologies."
"Yeah, right!" Jo said. "I didn't hear a lot of that at lunch with you and your friends."
"You have lunch with him an' 'is friends?"
Jo giggled. "I serve a function. I get to the lunch place early and get a table for them. I get one guy who adores me and another guy and a lady who are glad to get a table for lunch."
"Sounds like fun," Key said.
"And it raises my stature that I have a young, hot wife."
"Stoney!" she squealed. "Really?!?"
"Yes, cutie," I said, "I have been told that I do indeed have a hot young wife, along with the obvious questions like 'Didja knock 'er up?' and 'Is it true about redheads and tempers?' and things like that." I saw her face sort of fall. "But there are more of the 'congratulations, buddy!' and 'Damn! She's a cute little thing' and 'Is that HER playing that piece on your phone?' and even 'Does she know what kind of a deal she's getting?'..."
"Who told you that?" Jo jumped in.
"A lady who was trying to fix me up with her friend. Her 'two kids, no daddy' friend. Her 'I think that this time rehab is working' friend."
Key whistled. "Oh, that kind of friend."
"And honestly, she might've been a perfectly wonderful person, but as they say, 'that's not the way to bet'," I said. "And every married woman has single friends who need 'fixing up', and a single engineer..."
"You, sir, are NOT single, and you never WERE single, you were just wandering aimlessly until you found me," Jo laughed.
"Perfect description of my life, sweetness."
"Is Hutch like that with you, Key?" Jo asked her.
"He ain't that poetic, but, uh, yeah..." she smiled. "He's got 'is attractions."
We finally left Key's place, saw Cherie's little car heading up the street as we headed in t he opposite direction. "Cherie's kind of strange," Jo said.
"Strange?"
"Yeah. What did you call it? 'Earth child?' All natural this and organic that. Kind of pushy about it for a while, but she's mellowed."
"Some people make those choices," I said. "Sometimes it's their anchor."
"Music. Music was my anchor," Jo said quietly.
"Don't outgrow that," I said.
"I won't," she said. "But it was my anchor. It's still important, and it's a lot of who I am, but my anchor is driving this car right now."
"That's what marriage is supposed to be. At least part of it," I opined.
"A good part," Jo said. She paused, giggled, and gave me a happy squeeze. "THIS," she announced, "is another good part. Going to sleep together is a good part. Waking up with you is a good part. Coming home together is a good part. Lots of good parts."
I can't help but smile as I think about the things she just listed. The simple idea of having her next to me all night was indeed a good thing, as were all the others. "You are the good part, redhead," I said. "I never really knew what I wanted until I met you."
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