Please Hold Chapter 10
Author's Note: Holy Snikes Bat Man – Chapter 10 already? Thank you to Ms. Harris for these wonderful action figures (never dolls) – I promise to put them back in the toy box without making a dime.
We're in the present – can you believe it?
I cried on Amelia's shoulder for a little while longer and let her lace my coffee with a little of Jameson's to help me calm down. I didn't argue it – one drink would help me sleep and keep away a post tear-fest headache. She said it was fine if I used her car the following day and would coordinate between Gran and me on the transportation. I really needed to buy a car – I'd say a new car, but I didn't think I needed that – just something newer. I'm hoping cash for clunkers hadn't destroyed all the decent used cars. Amelia and I ended up watching a generic show on HGTV. I caught myself yawning so I bid her sweet dreams and headed up the stairs to my apartment. There were interior stairs that opened into a small closet in my room. We kept the doors in between locked, but it was nice not to have to go outside.
After my nightly ritual of tooth-brushing, face-washing, and lotion-applying, I slipped into one of Alcide's old t-shirts. A lot of people tried to just box up his things and send them off when he died. I wouldn't have it. Most of his clothes I passed on, but I saved his t-shirt collection and a few other things. I also held onto his jewelry and a few suits – I hoped his sister's son would be able to put some of them to use. I'd make sure he understood that if he didn't want the things I gave him, it was ok to pay them forward – I didn't want Alcide's things to feel like a burden, but I'd like for his family to have the opportunity to make that decision when things were less raw. Janice almost had a panic attack when I threw out his boxer shorts – I would have donated them like I did with most of his jeans, but who donates used underwear? I shuddered just remembering that thought. I climbed up into my bed – it was a high four poster bed with canopy rails. I bought sheer curtains to hang from them so I'd have my own little retreat. I had beautiful white wooden shutters in my room that I could lock to leave my windows open. It felt like my own tropical retreat. I loved the crisp white of the sheers and my sheets against the ebony stain of the wood. I had a few brilliant blue-green pillows and throw blankets to make it pop. It was a very sophisticated set for someone who spent all but a few months of her life sleeping in her childhood bed. I climbed up, turned on the TV to HGTV and set a sleep timer – I went to dream land watching the man from income properties remodel and renovate in sleeveless shirts.
I woke up the next morning, not to my carefully set alarm clock or the alarm on my cell. Nor did the aroma of my preprogrammed coffee maker push me into reality. Amelia bursting through the hidden staircases and leaping on my bed with an aluminum baseball bat in tow woke me up.
"Ohmygodohmygod Sookie! SOOKIE! Wake up right now." I sat up immediately looking for the emergency that must be running through my bedroom.
"Wha? Who? When? What?"
"There is a man, sleeping in his car in the driveway. He is really tall and has fuchsia toe-nails. What do we do?"
"Wait – what kind of car is it? Is he black?" I felt like I should say, I know that masked man, but it was too early for me to put the proper melodrama in it.
"An old White Buick Park Avenue – and yes, wait are you a psychic?"
"Is there a bumper sticker that says 'No Bitchin' in My Kitchen'?" She nodded and I knew. I launched myself out of bed and pulled an old dirty pair of jeans from the hamper. Stepping into flip-flops, I zipped up then launched myself towards my front door. Daylight was considering the merits of arriving as I skipped down the steps. I ran to the ugly old car and started banging on the hood and windows.
"Bitch, you better not be fuckin' up my ride – it's all I gots these days" a sleepy voice told me from inside the open back windows.
"Lafayette Reynolds, as I live and breathe. What are you doing here?"
"I'm in culinary school –didn't Tara tell you?"
"I think so – I didn't realize you were here, otherwise I would have invited you over – how did you find me? Why didn't knock on the damn door? You know better than to sleep outside in a place like this." I scolded.
Lafayette laughed and coughed to clear his throat. He sat up and slid out the back seat driver's side door. He stood and stretched his long lean body. We'd been friends long enough to know that they repelled each other absolutely in a sexual way, but he was still a well put together person.
"What are you thinking sleeping in a car in this city? Did you want me to find you dead? You need to get on your knees and thank the Good Lord that you're healthy and safe and with friends." Lafayette looked shocked for a second, but bowed his head and said his thanks. We'd had several talks and decided that any being that could create the amazing sights in the heavens and the depths of the oceans, couldn't just hate someone for whom he loved.
He looked up from his shoes and explained, "I had lunch with Miss Adele yesterday – she said you were renting out a room. I came to ask how much. I moved down here for the cooking school ya' know – I figured I knew people. I got a storage shed to keep my things in till I could find a room to let. I ended up falling in with some old friends I knew from Shreveport – but I can't stay there Sooks – I just can't. Them people is dirty and not in the Christina A. kinda way." I raised my eyebrows at that and he cleared his throat. "I mean I can be drrty but I don't shit where I eat. Sookie I can't explain the nastiness of the place and they weren't even ashamed." I understood what he meant. People can't always help their living conditions but most of us tried to live with pride. Laf wasn't speaking with conceit. Live had beat him down enough, but he would have taken care of himself and the people around him too. If it made his skin craw to live there it was surely awful. "They's just dirty birds. I can't sleep there, I can't cook there, and I can't live there. I'll sign a lease, pay you rent, and sell half my soul to live here with you Sookie. You's clean and neat – you don't keep crazy hours – I won't be bringin' any party boys by I promise and I'll clean and do my own dishes – please Sookie please!"
I took a deep breath, "How about this, we go inside and make breakfast. You make nice with my landlady while I get ready for work. I just got hired yesterday and I just. Can. Not. Be. Late. You'll stay here until the weekend and we'll talk."
He whooped and whirled and swept me up into a hug and started carrying me up the stairs Rhett Butler style. "Ahem… as much fun as this is Laf – both of our boats are going to sink on principle if you continue."
He laughed again and set me down. He grabbed my hand and we went upstairs. He opened the door and bowed me inside, "My lady." I laughed and pulled him over the threshold with me. Amelia tried to look like she hadn't been gawking at us from behind the shutters.
"Pretty thing, you go shower and get ready. Auntie Laffy is going to make you a hearty breakfast to help you get through the day." He moved towards my kitchen while he made a 'git' motion with his hands. "Go on, scoot."
"Amelia," I called on my way to the master bath, "That is the one and only Lafayette Reynolds. You play nice and he'll cook you breakfast."
Miss Manners would forgive my less than formal introductions (I hoped) – but it was early – I turned off my snooze alarm so it wouldn't start wailing halfway through my much deserved shower. I pulled my hair into a messy ponytail – catching the ends to make a sloppy loop. I dropped my jeans and panties in the hamper and looked at myself in the mirror as I pulled off the old Tractor Supply Co. t-shirt. The scar running from my right hip to my lowest left rib had faded to a pale and shiny red line. Everyone wanted me to forget what happened and just move on. How do you move on when you carry the marks of tragedy each and every day? I ran a hand absently over my belly. I noticed that I had some lady maintenance to keep up with in the shower and slipped a fresh razor cartridge into the shower. I turned on the shower to let the warm water makes its way up and picked up my night clothes (and emergency jeans) to throw into the hamper. I sighed and flipped off the lights. I love showering in the dark. I'd reach out to turn on the lights to shave, but I'd give myself a few minutes of darkness to sooth and heal my battered nerves. I pulled my hair down. I decided I had time to blow out my hair that morning and I could skip it tomorrow morning which would, hopefully, be calmer. I slid under the water, washing my hair, conditioning it, scrubbing my self – letting my worries flow down the drain – even if it was only for a few moments. I slid my arm out of the curtain and fumbled for the switch – keeping my eyes closed. I opened my eyes after a moment and found my razor – after assuring that everything that I like to be smooth was indeed smooth I stood for a last long rinse. God Bless tank less hot water heaters. I switched the water off and wrung out my hair before grabbing for the towels I'd set on the toilet seat. Alcide was always amazed at how much water my hair held – two towels worth. I used a regular towel to get it as dry as I could before wrapping it in a chamois-like hair towel. I then took the final towel to dry my shivering body and move to the sink. I brushed my teeth and rubbed lotion all over. I set out my makeup and hairstyling equipment for getting ready in a moment. As I opened the door, the shower steam escaped, but welcomed the delightful and familiar scents of Lafayette cooking.
I walked into my bedroom, lazily hanging my towel over the canopy rail, then sliding on my pretty pink cotton under things. They matched the flowers in the dress I planned to wear. White background with large tropical green leaves and beautiful flourishes of flowers, it was a square necked top with cap sleeves and a wrap style detail on the skirt. I was a little doubtful if the sleeves were acceptable, so I had a tailored jacket to wear with it. Besides, offices were always too cold when men who wore suits controlled the climate controls. I pulled on the dress and set out my shoes for later – I wouldn't put them on until I was in my parking space. I walked into the kitchen to find Amelia sitting on a bar stool gossiping about what hot actor was or was not dating Kate Bosworth. I cleared my throat and Lafayette danced over to me to zip up my dress.
"Okay sugar – I'm glad you're barefoot, otherwise we'd be looking across three parishes for your socks after you try this." He pushed me down into a chair and put a spoonful of heaven and bacon in my mouth. I moaned. He wisely made no comment. Instead, he checked my outfit. "You want me to blow you out while you eat?" Now, if this was the first time this had happened I would have refused, but Lafayette's abilities with bangin' hair were only surpassed by his cooking. I'd experienced both and the same time; it was as close to heaven as I'd ever been with my clothes on.
A blow-dry from Laf felt like a massage. It was what I needed as my real alarms hadn't even sounded yet.
After he'd finished and Amelia and I had both cleared our plates. I decided then and there not to ask why the anchovy paste was out – I used it early in a few sauced, but I didn't want to know how he'd used it today. I asked Amelia to give us a minute and she agreed to go downstairs, but she wanted me to say goodbye before work.
"Laf, this is her house. If you're going to live here, she's going to run a credit check and background check. – Are there going to be any problems."
"I was a little late paying off my extensions a few years back, but I made good – as to everything else, no promises."
"Give her the info, let her run it & we'll talk again about this tonight. That would give me some time to think." I added" I won't make any final decisions before next week. Consider yourself on probation"
He nodded and started gathering the dishes to wash. I made my way downstairs to have a private pow-wow with Amelia. After a little further explanation of my friendship with Lafayette, including that extended back before high school, and she was fine with hanging out with him for the day. She handed over her car keys. I had already gathered my bag and shoes. I called up to have Laf come down. I bid them both a good day and walked out in flip flops to slide into Amelia's car. I heaved a great sigh, started the car, and made my way towards work.
Author's notes: Are you OCD, slightly messy, but still clean, or can you live anywhere? How hard is it for you to ask for help, especially from friends?
Thanks again for the review love. The hit counter at FF isn't working, so it's the only way I know anyone is reading – Happy weekend!