Domesticated (38 page)

He started singing these exact same words about me not being able to hide my lying eyes. Listening to it now had new meaning. Sam thought I was nothing but a liar and I couldn’t blame him. I was sort of even hoping this baby belonged to Garrison. At least it would be smart, and I’m sure she would be just as cute as Savannah, maybe she would even get my blond hair.

Olivia and I took our time getting to Indiana, staying in a hotel three nights before arriving in the college town. Of course, we had to get the same room. I looked forward to our sharing. Olivia complained about it every time, but she never said no. We watched each other, until we both released at the same time, and then went on as it was no big deal, the normal thing to do.

School hadn’t started yet, but we knew from Paris’s Facebook page that she was working in a bookstore there on campus. There was still so many questions unanswered, like who took her? Who raised her? How was she raised? Did she have a better life than she would have? Would she even remember me?

My nerves permeated my skin the closer we got and the walk to the bookstore was even worse. I knew she was there. She posted that morning, ‘Work today, and then movies with Tara.’ Olivia gave me the pep talk, refusing to let me turn around and change my mind. She walked to the counter and ordered us both cappuccinos. I waited at the first booth, ducking in and looking around with a big picture book of Sailboats. I didn’t see her anywhere and then we both stared dead head at each other, neither of us able to move.

“What’s wrong?” a young man asked her, coming from the back with her.

“Can you take these?” she asked, handing over the three stacks of cups.

“Hi,” I said, standing as she neared. She knew me. She knew exactly who I was.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you. Do you have time? I could come back later if you want.”

“I have a few minutes. You look nice.”

“Thank you. I’m carrying my first baby. You look nice, too,” I said, refraining from telling her how much she looked like her mother.

“Congratulations.” Paris smiled. And then we shared an awkward silence. I looked up to Olivia, flipping through a magazine from across the room. She smiled and nodded in reassurance.

“I have your money,” I said, using the Kendra way of breaking news.

“My money?” she questioned.

“Money from our father.”

“What do you mean? How? I was told there was no money. It paid for Dad’s care all those years in the nursing home.”

“I’m sure that put a big dent in it, but you have money. You’ve always had it. I just had to weed out the crooked people to get it.”

“Like how much money?”

I explained the whole situation to Paris, how my mother was the one who swindled us both out of it, and how her power as a federal judge helped her. I explained how I got it back, and also, what I had planned to do with what she spent, minus her share of course. Paris wanted me to use her share of what my mother spent to help with my cause. She was more than happy with the forty eight million I would split down the middle with her.

“Where did you go? Who raised you?” I asked once we’d talked about the money for twenty minutes. She had to go tell her boss she was going to be off the clock until I left. Once her boss found out that she hadn’t seen me since she was six, he told her to take her time.

“Aunt Rachel raised me, well, not my aunt, yours, but I always called her Aunt Rachel.”

My heart literally stopped beating and my lungs refused to work. “My mother’s sister raised you? Why? I don’t understand.” That wasn’t even close to what I was thinking. I thought someone on her mother’s side raised her, but thinking about it made sense. Dr. Delgado would have been her own family, but I know they had other people. I remembered Adriana leaving a few times to visit family, or that’s what she said, anyway.

“Your mom arranged it. Aunt Rachel wouldn’t take you, because she knew you were so much trouble.”

“I wasn’t any trouble,” I sadly replied, looking down at my hands.

“I know you weren’t. I thought about you a lot. I had a good life with Aunt Rachel, and I always hoped you did, too.”

“You did?”

“I was just a little kid, Kendra. I’m sorry I did those things to you. I just did what I was taught. My mother had us believing you were no better than a dog and we had to treat you like one. I’m sorry, Kendra. Even then I knew it was wrong.”

“I’m not mad at you for it. It’s not your fault. I just can’t believe you were raised with my Aunt Rachel. She never came to my graduation, not high school or college. I have a law degree, you know?” I added for whatever reason. I wasn’t trying to boast at all. It was more of a nervous, shut your mouth, kind of confession.

“That’s awesome. Where do you practice?”

I snorted. “I didn’t practice. I married the mold.”

Paris hissed. “Oh, I broke that fucker,” she said, quickly covering her mouth. “Sorry,” she added.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re old enough to say fuck, and I recently broke it, too. It took a good many years and someone that showed me what it feels like to finally let go and live, but it feels good now. I’m going to be just fine.”

“That makes me happy. Is your husband a lawyer, too?”

Blowing out a puff of air, I explained in my Kendra way, that my husband was gay, I had a summer affair, I was pregnant with someone’s baby, and I was moving to a small town in Florida. I left out the part about the attempt to impregnate Olivia with Sam’s sperm. The rest of it sounded bad enough. By the time I had finished spilling my guts with her splashing a question here and there, we had talked for an hour and ten minutes. 

“Fuck!” Paris exclaimed. I sort of snickered.

“Hey, at least one of us turned out okay,” I teased.

“I don’t blame you, Kendra,” Paris said, looking down. Her tone was serious, and more somber than the lightheartedness just moments before. She folded and unfolded a straw paper, waiting for me to respond.

I looked at her black shiny hair and asked. “Blame me for what, Paris?”

“I remember it like it was yesterday. I don’t blame you for grabbing the wheel. That’s why I never told anyone.”

I had a law degree, I knew when to stop. I smiled, and moved on. I wasn’t admitting to anything. “I’m glad you had a good life.”

“I don’t know that I would have had things not happened this way. I would probably be shopping for a husband right about now,” she teased.

That’s when the amazing idea hit me. Shopping for a husband. And just like that, the decision was made. I was going to find my own Sam.

I knew as well as Paris knew, we weren’t going to be strangers after that. We would probably never be close by any means. I would send her a birthday card, she would probably buy the baby something, and we may even talk on the phone a time or two, but there was no need for anything more. We couldn’t even hug when we parted without it feeling wrong. I was happy to give her what was hers, and she was happy that I was finally happy and free. That was all either of us needed.

Just like my whimsical idea to shop for a husband, one that would be a good daddy, lover and family man like Sam, I did the same thing with the Victorian house. The very first one.

“I’ll take it,” I announced, before I ever saw the upstairs. The town itself was enough to make me want to stay. I loved it and it had the same feel that Sam’s small ghost town had, only it wasn’t a ghost town at all. All the little shops looked like they were thriving. I could walk out to my mailbox and watch my little girl walk home from school with her friends. The back yard was a child’s dream come true.

I would have to have the boy-painted fort remodeled for a pink princess house, and maybe I would even match it with the doghouse, and let her have a puppy eventually. We’d see.

“Don’t you want to see the rest of the house?” Olivia asked. “Stop making decisions in two minutes. You have time.”

“No I don’t. I have less than eight months. I love this house.”

“She has two more to show you,” Olivia protested.

“I like this one. Did you see that kid’s bookstore up there on the corner?” I asked, refusing to hear logic. I loved this house, and I could be on the beach after a twenty minute walk. I could see me and my little girl doing just that.

“I give up. You’re a hopeless case. Oh my god, look at this library,” Olivia exclaimed. I think that room changed her mind. The bookshelves went from the ceiling to the floor and there were four big, comfy reading chairs. It wasn’t some stuffy office like my ancestors. This was a family room.

I listed the beach house the following day, and planned my move, and for the first time ever, I felt like things were going to be okay. I was going to be fine, and I would find this little girl the best daddy in the world. She deserved it, and so did I. Olivia of course didn’t think it was such a good idea.

“You can’t shop for a husband,” she protested, packing up the dishes in the kitchen.

“Yes I can. Just like I shopped for that house. Money talks. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“I’m done trying. You won’t listen to anyone. You’re the most stubborn human being on the face of this earth. Do what you want. Why don’t you put an ad out on Craig’s list? I bet you can find all kinds of weirdos to be your husband.” Whatever. I didn’t need Olivia’s permission, and I sure as hell didn’t need her approval.

I did everything I set out to do, starting with selling the house, well I was trying anyway. It may take some time, but the realtor assured me he would sell it. I donated all the contents to the local Red Cross. After spending days and days and days, looking at houses around Hartford, Olivia finally picked a house. She was determined to plant her roots there. I finally placed an offer on one between her parent’s and Jackson’s parents.

I’m pretty sure Olivia was one of those things that happened for a reason. Spending the night in her parent’s home with her was exactly what I wanted. I loved how she and her mother talked while they cooked dinner. I loved the interaction they shared with each other over dinner and I sort of wanted to fuck her brother.

The next evening we had dinner at Jackson’s parents. Total culture shock. I came from the most concealed line of prejudice there was. Adriana used to call black kids, nasty, and not that I was anything like her, it was still a little different for me. Sophia was beautiful. Jackson’s mother was as blonde and white as I was, and his dad was, well, he wasn’t white at all, but you could tell they were so in love, and the relationship Olivia had with Sophia was what I wanted, too. I wanted my baby to have at least one loving grandma like Rita was to Savannah.

Jackson’s brother Jamal was there, home from school, too. I loved the way they all talked and joked around the table like a real family was supposed to, and I sort of wanted to fuck him, too. I wanted to fuck him a lot. I think it was the fascination that he was black. I wanted to at least try. Olivia wouldn’t let me, or I may have attempted it. I needed sex. Not just with myself. I needed the feel of it. Like Sam’s hands all over my body, his naked chest on mine, and his lips… Oh how I missed Sam’s lips.

I fell madly in love with my new little town, and my house. I missed Olivia being around, but I knew with her new house, she was busy, trying to make it a home for when Jackson came home. I loved my new OBGYN, and was happy I chose her. She even invited me to their fall harvest on their tree farm. I went with the intentions of shopping for a daddy. I never found one, not that day anyway. There were a lot of good-looking, nice men. They were just with their wives and kids. Oh, well. It wasn’t like I was going to find one while I was still pregnant anyway, but the sex would have been nice.

I settled in quite nice and even made a few friends. Nobody asked questions and I didn’t volunteer unasked answers. It was best that way. I was doing well in Port Pemba, and I felt happy, and relaxed. I received the last of the twenty-three million from my mother and after depositing Paris’s half, I set out to close the last chapter.

I had nothing but time, and Dr. Patterson assured me that the drive would do me good. I couldn’t wait to see Olivia, and hoped to talk her into venturing to the beach house with me for one last visit. I needed to sign papers for the new owners. That chapter was closed and only needed my signature to finalize it.

On October twelfth, Olivia and I were on the streets, rallying with the rest of the electoral politicians. The streets howled and came to life at the mention of my mother’s reelection to the New York Supreme Court 10th Judicial District. This would be the closing chapter of that, and I could not wait to see the look on her face.

She took the podium with pride, thanking the cheering audience. As soon as the crowd settled, letting her speak, the white scene behind her came alive. Right on cue. The gentleman running the homeless shelter thanked her dearly for the change of heart. It mean so much to him and the eleven million dollar donation on her behalf would go down in history for the nicest thing anyone had ever done for the community.

The priceless look on my mother’s face while everyone quietly listened was worth it all. I was sure her well-prepared speech had just been shut down. Let’s see what you’ve got now. Bitch.
Olivia and I bumped shoulders, smiling from ear to ear when the first reporter asked, why. The next one reminded her of her pre-election statement about moving it to a more suitable part of town. I’ve got to give the bitch credit. She came out smelling like a bed of roses after explaining how she wanted to break the segregation, teach the homeless new trades, and offer help with drug and alcohol problems.

I was okay with her being the hero. I knew how much it was eating her up inside to know she had to walk or drive right past there to come to work. That made me very happy.

Olivia and I were halfway to California before I told her the news I had been waiting to tell.

“Are you still set on Avery Hope?” Olivia asked.

“No, I don’t like Avery as a boy’s name.”

It took a minute for her to realize what I had said. I thought she was going to wreck us. “Note to self. Don’t give Olivia news while she’s driving. Jesus, Liv.”

“You’re having a boy? Does that mean they did the DNA?”

“Yeah, there is no possible chance of Garrison being his daddy.”

“Holy shit! You’re having a boy. How do you feel about that?”

“I don’t know yet. I asked Dr. Patterson if there was anything she could give me to make it fall off, but she thought I was joking.”

“Names?!” Olivia asked excited.

“I’m still only four months along, but as of right now, I’m liking Jerica or Jaymes.”

“Hmm, I like Jaymes. It’s different. You have to tell Sam.”

“Like hell I do. He’s just going to try to pin some crazy unfit mother wrap on me. He has Savannah. He doesn’t need to know shit.”

“I think he does, but that’s all you. It’s your life and I know you’re going to love this little guy like you’ve never loved before.”

“What are you doing for Christmas?”

“What? I swear your hormones have affected your brain a little.”

“I just don’t want to talk about Sam. I’m not telling him. What are you doing for Christmas? I have been buying stuff, and I want to decorate my house. I guess it’s a big thing in Port Pemba. The whole town goes all out for Christmas.

“I might fly there before the holidays, but I want to be home during. You should come to my house for Thanksgiving.”

“Are you going to Jackson’s, too?”

“Yeah, you can come there, too, if you want.”

“I do want. I want to fuck Jamal.”

“I know you’re only half joking, but you’re not fucking Jamal.”

“Why not. I want to see if his cock is as big as the black ones I’ve seen on porn.”

“If it’s anything like Jackson take my word for it. It is.”

“Seriously? Jackson has a big dick?”

“Oh my god. How do we end up in these conversations?”

“Does he, Olivia?”

“Yes, he’s well equipped.”

“Do you have any pics?”

“NO!” Olivia exclaimed a little too fast while seizing her phone from the cup holder.

“Yes you do. Give me your phone.” 

“No way. I’m not showing you my fiancé’s penis.”

“Look, I’ll show you Sam’s,” I said, swiping my phone to find it. It was my favorite one. He was stroking himself above my tits that day and I talked him into a photo.

“I don’t want to see Sam’s penis. I felt it. I know he’s got a package.”

“Look,” I said, forcing her glance at it.

“Holy shitzballs,” she laughed.

“Fine, but if you ever meet him, you better not say one word. He would kill me.”

Olivia relinquished her phone, and searched her photos. A lot were of family, but more were of her and Jackson. I smiled, seeing how happy she was with him, before getting to the good ones.

“I am going to meet Jackson, and holy shit girl. That’s gotta hurt. Sam was well endowed, Jackson was horse endowed. “What the hell do you do with that?”

Olivia laughed, “I take every last inch of it and love the hell out of it. I can’t wait to feel him again.”

“Jesus, now I need to come.”

“Oh no you don’t. You can wait. You’re starting to give me a complex. I never masturbated before I met you, now I do it all the time.”

“I’ll do it while you drive, and then you can do it while I drive.”

“No! I’m good, and you’re not doing that going down the road. It’s daylight. A trucker might see you.”

“That’s perfect,” I said, sliding my pants over my hips.

“What the fuck are you doing? Oh my god. You’re a freak.”

“Get in the passing lane and slow down when you get to that trucker.”

“You’re crazy. No.”

“Do it. Come on. It’ll be fun.”

Olivia groaned, but moved to the left lane, while my fingers moistened in my pussy. I used my white cotton pants to cover my growing little bump and rolled down the tinted window. We both laughed when the trucker looked down and blew his horn.

“Go!” I said, wanting her to move on to the next trucker. The guy in the semi tried like hell to catch up, but the weight of his truck left him in the dust and we were on to our next victim who almost drove off the road. We left him, too. He was too old. I wasn’t looking to give anyone a heart attack, just have some fun while having an orgasm. We played this game for five semi-trucks. The fifth one was the lucky one. He got to watch me squirm while holding on to the door handle and letting go.

Olivia protested half a dozen times, before she finally pulled over and let me drive. And then I still had to make her do it. I tried to just do what she did and pull up to the sides of the truckers, but I was having a harder time at it than she did. I got in the slow lane and stayed there when she moaned. I didn’t really touch her per se, not really. I just moved her leg out a little more, and used two fingers to pull back on her lip while she brought home the finale, rubbing her swollen nub to a screaming orgasm.

My eyes darted back and forth from the road to her pussy with mine throbbing like mad in my seat. I needed to do that again. I don’t even really remember doing it, but feeling the wet, warm way her pussy gripped my two fingers, I knew I did. She didn’t stop me. Olivia was too busy riding out the orgasm to care that I went that far. I didn’t even mean to do it. It just happened, but if I’m being honest. I liked it. Turning my attention back to the road, I pulled out, letting my fingers drag up her slippery folds.