Our a Cappella (3 page)
Authors: Yessi Smith
Shayna
I wish I didn’t have to go back to school, but afterwards Tia Sofie will pick me up and I can tell her all about Disney. I brought my autograph book so I can show her all the princesses that I met and signed my book. My favorite part was the fireworks show. It was so bright and colorful. The parade was pretty too.
Especially when Santa came!
School is pretty neat too. I’m learning how to read and write. It takes me a little longer than my friends, but I’d never gone to school until Mommy put me
in here. I was really scared at first and didn’t wanna talk to the other kids, but my teacher, Ms. Cassie, helped me make friends. Now I have a best friend. Well, two best friends, but Mayra’s my favorite. Don’t tell Shelly though.
They’ve both been to Disney and told me what it looked like and what I could do there, but it was nothing like I expected. Magic lives in Disney.
Trent
A week after returning home from our Disney trip, our lives are back to its normal hectic schedule. I work four twelve hour shifts from 6 am – 6 pm Wednesday through Saturday. Week in, week out; there are rarely any variations. By 6 pm, I’m done with all of my paperwork, eager to get home. Erin’s schedule isn’t as predictable and she works anywhere between eight to ten hours a day, five days a week. Three days a week she goes to school from 9 pm to midnight. And the days she doesn’t go to school, she is up studying and writing papers long after I have headed to bed.
So it is on me to pick up Shayna from Sofia’s ballet school where she goes every day after school. I also cook us dinner and prepare Shayna’s lunch for the following day. I’m not complaining, or at least I’m trying not to complain. I want both of them in my life. Shayna wrapping her chunky arms around my neck every evening when I pick her up is the highlight of my day. I can’t imagine starting off my mornings without Shayna talking so much she makes my ears ring and my eyes cross while Erin makes breakfast.
Erin’s a bi
t OCD about her distrust of preservatives and additives and makes pancakes or waffles from scratch almost every morning. I don’t mind, but sometimes I can see her nose flaring from having to wake up so early just to cook. Erin’s not much of a morning person and the constant talking and cooking while she’s trying to get her bearings irritates her.
Today, Nate picked Shayna up and
grabbed us some Chinese food so my only duties are to pop open a beer and listen to Shayna rave on about her day. And she always has a lot to say. After dinner I help her with her homework and, to be honest, I’m terrified of her homework.
I’m not a stupid man by any stretch of the imagination, but how in hell can they expect children so young to know five plus
x equals eleven. I’m pretty sure at her age I was still doing a piss poor job of learning how to color within the lines. Thankfully, Shayna learns quickly and doesn’t need much more than my presence when she does her homework.
I see Nate sitting comfortably on my recliner watching my television and suddenly feel claustrophobic. He vacationed with us and has since been staying with us, sleeping on our couch, eating our food. Food I should be sharing with my wife, not her brother.
Too many nights I spend shooting the shit with him, rather than spending the time with my wife who is too busy with her nose stuck in those damn school books. I take a breath, disheveling Shayna’s hair so I can hear her giggle before I take a swig of my beer.
My wife, who spends Saturdays taking Shayna to the beach while I’m at work and then spends Sundays studying while I’m off duty. Sounds kind of back as
s backwards if you ask me.
Last time I b
rought it up to her, she got upset because she thought I was jealous of the time she spent with Shayna. It’s hard to believe that she’s still so skeptical of me and my intentions, when in actuality all I want to do is spend time with my girls. Both of them, together.
After a quick shower, I settle Shayna down in her Princess bed and lie down beside her as I read her yet another story about Merida, her
most favoritest princess of all
. I hear her breath slow down until it is a steady rhythmic in and out, but continue to read until the story is over. I get up carefully, not wanting to wake her, and kiss her on her forehead before I leave her in her sleep.
After I open up my second bottle of beer I sit down next to Nate who is watching the Miami Heat beat the
San Antonio Spurs. It’s early in the game and they’re only up by one field goal so I know it’ll be a good game.
“Wade’s out,” Nate tells me and I grunt before shoving chips in my mouth. “His knee ain’t worth a shit no more.”
I nod in agreement but feel the need to defend him since I know firsthand how painful knee injuries can be. “He’s still got it though. ‘Specially when it’s not giving him shit.”
“Shoulda never got rid of Miller.”
“Amen, brotha,” I say, toasting his words with my bottle.
After that we fall into companionable silence, only swearing or cheering when we find it necessary.
A few hours later, Erin arrives. Exhausted, she greets us at the door and heads straight into our bedroom so she can strip herself of her day and take a shower. Because I’ve only seen her a couple hours in the past few days, I leave the game and join her in our room.
She startles at the sound of the door and laughs at her own nerves, reminding me that the other man in
our house is impeding on our privacy. I like Nate, but I’ll like him even more when he’s back in Alabama and no longer living in our living room.
I walk towards her and before I can hold her in my arms, she says, “I’m tired, Trent. No
t tonight, okay?”
Not tonight. Not last night. It’s been over a week since she’s
granted me permission.
Even New Year’s Eve was an
“I’m too tired”
sort of night.
Without looking at her, I walk to our closet and pull out my gym shorts and running shoes. Frustrated by the sound of the shower running, I leave our apartment and run.
I’m glad Erin’s pursuing her dreams and working towards her Master’s so she can grow in her profession. She loves being a Pediatric Nurse, hell she was made for it. I love hearing Shayna tell me about her and Mommy’s day when they go to the beach while I’m at work and I’m glad they get to spend that special time together. But what about my time?
I slam my feet into the ground, willing the frustrations to dissipate but
they only grow. While Erin is hell-bent on her education and being there for Shayna, being what our daughter needs and deserves, she’s forgotten one thing. Me.
What about my needs and what I deserve? I’m not talking about sex, although that’s obviously lacking. I’m talking about the t
hree of us spending time as a family. The two of us spending time as a couple. Disney was a nice interlude of our reality, but now that we’re back home the interlude is over and we’re back to what should never have become our norm.
Two hours later, I open the apartment door to hear Nate snoring and find Erin sleeping on our bed with her laptop and school books open on what should be my side of our bed. If Nate wasn’t here I’d sleep on the couch. That’s how dejected I feel. But he’s here, so I move her books and laptop to the dresser and shut off the light so she can sleep more soundly before I take a shower.
Dejected
. I didn’t even know that word was part of my vocabulary.
Nate
I woke up this morning with a pretty damn good plan in my head. I knew Erin had school today so I thought I’d sweeten Trent over by picking up Shay and some Chinese food. Then he’d have more time to unwind and help me figure out how to tell Erin.
Only Trent took one look at me and I got a pretty good im
pression he wanted to punch me in the face. I been stayin’ here since we came back from Disney ‘cuz I like spendin’ time with Tonya a bit too much for my own comfort. ‘Sides, I still haven’t told her about the cancer an’ I’m startin’ to feel bad about it all. But maybe I’ll ask her if I can stay the night with her tomorrow. Maybe it’ll be easier to tell her than the others. She doesn’t know me as well as the others, but sure as I’m standin’ here, I know there’ll be tears. An’ what’s worse than a woman bawlin? ‘Specially if you’re the one makin’ her cry.
While I wanna talk to Erin, she’s got so much goin’ on in her life. Between work, her studies, and a family life, I don’t wanna burden her with my own problems. Okay, I’m takin
’ the chicken shit route here. But there’s truth in there. An’ Trent’s been all bent out of shape with her. Not that I’m gettin’ involved. Whatever love feud they got goin’ on, I want no part in it.
I got my own shit to worry about. I got a pretty good feelin’ the cancer’s
getting’ worse. ‘Course it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. I’m out of breath a lot more often and already quit joggin’.
My body’s been tellin’ me I should also
give up sex, but the idea of turning down Tonya is laughable. I don’t care what my body tells me, I ain’t takin’ it in the ass. I’ll die ridin’ her before I let the bastard that is cancer win.
***
I meet Tonya for lunch and she’s so excited about something she reminds me of Shay jumpin’ up and down on her seat. I kiss her on the lips firmly and let my tongue slip out and graze her lips just so I can see her eyes smoke over. Damn this woman.
“What’s got ya all worked up?” I ask her after I take a seat.
“I got the job,” she tells me and I don’t have to question what she’s talkin’ about.
Tonya’s a marine biologist, a real life scientist, and she’s been pinin’ for a position in a shark laboratory in Bimini.
She’ll be swimmin’, catchin’, taggin, and observin’ the sharks of Bimini. A dream come true for her.
I smile at her,
happy her hard work is helpin’ her reach one of the many goals she’s set for herself.
“When do ya start?” I ask her, proud of her accomplishment.
“Mid-June,” she responds with such a shit-eatin’ grin I find her excitement contagious.
“This calls for a brownie,” I tell her.
“But we haven’t ordered lunch yet,” she says.
“Brownies then lunch.”
“Fine,” she agrees on a smile. “A sundae and you’re sharing with me.”
“’Course I am. Can’t let you get fat on me,” I tease and she flips me off good naturedly.
Only my stomach revolts after my first bite and I rush to the bathroom just in time. I hate the weakness leaving my body more than the disease that’s probably hell- bent on killin’ me. After I wash my face off several times with cold water, I walk out of the bathroom determined not to ruin Tonya’s celebration. She meets me at the door of the bathroom and her face says it all.
“I think ya got me pregnant,” I tell her, trying to ease the tension off her face.
“I got some sticks you can pee on at home,” she says taking my hand in hers.
“First we gotta celebrate,” I tell her adamantly.
“My thoughts exactly,” she responds with a sly smile.
I go back to the table, leavin
’ more money than is necessary for an uneaten sundae and let Tonya go ahead of me to her car. Still not feelin’ well, I shuffle my feet until I reach for the car handle and can hear her music blasting from the outside. I try to remember the name of the band, Elephant Man, maybe?
Hell if I can remember so I just open the door, slippin
’ myself into the passenger seat. I barely have time to close the doors before she pushes the gas pedal. People in Miami can’t drive worth a shit. And, yea, that includes Tonya. I swear I ain’t never seen that woman use her blinker. But she’s got no problem using the horn. One of these days, I’m disablin’ the damn thing.
She maneuvers in and out of traffic expertly and we arrive to her townhome faster than I thought possible. Indy drivers should pay homage to this woman.
Before I can make it into her room, she guides me to her couch where she sits me down and then promptly sits on my lap. I place my hands on her hips, trying to maneuver her so that she is straddling me, but she just shakes her head no at me. I look into her eyes and see the worry in them and know I’ve been out-maneuvered.
Tonya puts both her hands on my face, forcing me to look at her, and asks, “What’s wrong Nate?”
But I just shake my head at her. I am given the opportunity to talk but I have no words.
“Don’t lie to me,” she says, anger creeping into her voice. “You’ve lost weight, you’re tired all the damn time, and you have a cough that only seems to be getting worse. You said you went to the doctor back home but where’s the inhaler for your supposed asthma?
” she accuses, her arms flyin’ wildly in the air. “I haven’t seen you once take any medication. So what is it?”
I stare into her eyes and see the need to understand as well the desire to help.
I also see her anger that’s ready to bust at the seams if I don’t tell her the truth. I sigh, resigned to ruin both of our days.
Before I speak, I rest my head on the crevice of her neck and breathe her in. Once my words are spoken, there’s no goin’ back. Normalcy between us will cease to exist. I will
have cancer while she remains healthy but useless in my plight.
“I have cancer,” I tell her. No subtleties or sugar coatings for me.
I go on to tell her the various tests they’ve run and about the biopsy I still haven’t scheduled. After I finish, I look back at her and see no tears. I breathe heavily, grateful for that small salvation.
“When are you going to do your biopsy then?” she wants to know.
I shrug my shoulders. “I’ll schedule it when I go back home.”
“You’ll let me know?” she asks, lookin
’ at me with so much passion I’m actually afraid for the both of us. “I’ll go up there when you have your procedure.”
“Aw, Tonya –”
“Don’t you pull that country boy act on me. Not when you’ve been such a shit,” she scolds me as if I were a child. “I’m going up there. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you want me there or not.”
“I want you there,” I tell her and pull her closer to me, trying not to think about what this means for her new job in Bimini.
“Of course you do, dumb ass,” she says, finally positionin’ herself so that she is straddlin’ me.
With her legs wrapped around my waist, I carry her to her bed while she strips herself of her shirt and bra. After I remove her skirt, I start to take off my clothes but stop when I see her reach into her
toy box.
I barely have time to wonder what in hell she’s gonna pull out this time when she wiggles her vibrator at me.
Seein
’ me starin’ at her like the dumb ass she called me earlier, she crawls on the bed towards me and helps me get rid of the clothes that seems to be suffocatin’ me. She props her pillows and orders me to lie down against them.
She orders me. And I fuckin’ listen. Me, whooped? Not in the least.
With my back propped against the pillows, Tonya sits down in front of me, her legs spread wide as she begins to play with herself. I reach over to help but she pulls away from me with a smile that hardens me even further.
“No touching,” she scolds and I frown. “If you’re a good boy and do as you’re told, you can choose from my toy box next.”
I smile back at her, picturin’ her strapped to the bed with those beautiful eyes hidden behind blindfolds so she can’t see what my next moves are. She’s got other toys, but those two are my favorites. I live for the surprised gasps that leave her lips.
I nod my head at her and watch her as she makes herself come. The torture of not touchin
’ her, of pressing my lips to hers – either lip would be fine, is an exquisite type of torture everyone should experience. I lick my lips, needin’ to feel her skin with my fingertips, needin’ to be the one that brings her such gratification, but never wanting her to stop.
Her eyes gloss over as she throws her head back and unable to resist her any longer, I pounce on her and kiss her lips as she continues to breathe heavily.
“You didn’t follow the rules,” she says into my mouth and laughs. A laugh full of power and femininity I nearly release myself on top of her.
“You’re done,” I tell her. “Now it’s my turn.”
She knows I like ridin’ her from behind and she begins to roll over, but I grab her waist and shake my head.
“I’m in control this time,” I tell her and her eyes widen.
She nods her head at me, excitement shinin’ in her eyes, and I lick the part of her neck where her heart is pulsing and find it to be as violent as my own heartbeat. I leave her to find the straps that will tie her to the bed and the blindfolds that will leave her completely submissive to my every whim.
After I am satisfied, I kiss her gently on the side of her mouth and she licks her lips before she smiles back at me. I trace my fingers from her mouth to her stomach and I watch her skin shiver with my touch. I continue my way down her body, stoppin
’ occasionally to taste certain parts with my tongue. Once I reach her inner thigh, I linger, feelin’ her moisten at my touch. Unable to resist the taste of her, I lick her inner thigh until I am at her most sensitive area.
I feel her shudder as I slip my tongue inside of her
softy, creamy lips and mentally smile because I know how badly she wants to dig her nails into my skin.
“Talk to me,” I demand and slip my finger inside of her.
“Nate,” she whispers, her voice shaky and barely audible.
I smack the outer side of her thigh, soft enough so it won’t hurt, but rough enough to get attention.
“Talk to me, baby girl.”
“I need you,” she tells me. “Right now, Nate. Right fucking now.”
“What do you need from me?”
“You, Nate. All of you,” she shouts at me. “Quit fucking around and get inside of me,” she all but pleads.
I smile back at her. “Not just yet,” I tell her and she moans.
Because I’ve never used one on her before
, I decide to surprise Tonya by going inside of her with her vibrator. She bucks at the touch and screams my name, and I’ll be damned if that stupid toy doesn’t make me jealous. I want to be inside of her, not some stupid sex toy, but she continues to shout my name, twitchin’ as she comes.
“Now I’m ready,” I whisper into her ear and she nods her head at me.
I take the straps and blindfold off of her so I can watch and feel her as she reaches her peak once again.
“Tell me you want me,” I whisper in her ear.
She nods her head. “I want you, Nate.”
“All of me.”
“Yes,” she demands. “All of you.”
I slam into her, reachin
’ for her hair as she claws new marks on my back. I kiss her lips until she shouts my name in my mouth and then, finally, I release myself inside of her.
Empty of everything but this amazin
’ woman lying next to me, I pull her to me.
“I’ve got you,” she tells me, kissin
’ my chest as the rest of me relaxes and molds against her.
She’s got me. There ain’t a damn thing I can’t do if she’s got me. So I guess cancer can go fuck itself ‘cuz my girl’s got me.
