“Why are you repeating everything I say, Saint? Yes, a bite to eat, ever heard of
it?” She chuckled. “Food? It nourishes our bodies. You remember what it was like,
honey, not having any free time.” Her facial expression softened as she tried to elicit
leniency and mercy. She put her foot on the heart-string powered gas pedal as her
eyes slightly hooded, and her lips dipped, drawing him into her world of cottony sorrow
and pitiful pity. It was the saddest face he’d ever seen.
All that was missing was some tragic violin music to accompany her depressing theatrics.
He hated that even after all of this, he still didn’t find in him a beating heart
that gave one shadow of a damn. No empathy poured forth, only a throbbing dick that
was being ignored by the object of his affections. He wanted her all to himself, and
now, that wish was being stomped on and crushed like a budding forest fire right before
his very eyes. He could almost envision the solemn speaking Smokey the bear with the
brown Ranger hat from his youth, pointing in his direction and saying,
‘Only YOU can prevent forest fires!’
“Remember when Hassani was real tiny and we didn’t take a break from the whole new
parents, thing? We hardly got any alone time. They need some time together, baby.
Newborns can be a lot of work.” She nodded, trying to drive the point home as he regarded
her with his very own mask of pity, but it was all for himself.
Saint slumped clumsily against his shiny, ebony media system that took up practically
the entire wall. His fingers ran over the ridged dial as he begrudgingly stopped the
music altogether. The dance was over…the horizontal one, too…
“I’ll be back.” He turned away and journeyed up the winding staircase to their master
suite, in search of a T-shirt to throw over his exposed, tattooed torso. He’d been
bopping like a damn peacock, trying to woo the woman. It was all a show that garnered
a rather lackluster premature curtain call.
Maybe Tyler will go to sleep early?
He became rather hopeful, bubbling with renewed optimism as his long fingers raked
through his clothing, a glimmer of a smile forming on his face. He removed a plain
white T-shirt from the rack, slid it on and carried on to the bathroom. With a sigh,
he rocked on his heels as he lifted the toilet lid and glided down his jeans and boxers,
causing them to puddle around his ankles. Clearing his throat, he stood there for
a second, then closed his eyes as his piss hit the water waiting below.
It will be nice to visit with Tyler though… I remember when Hassani and Dakarai were
that little. Seems so long ago.
He grinned as he shook his cock, re-dressed then made his way over to the twin black
granite basin to wash his hands. He pumped the soft, liquid peppermint soap, lathered
up and looked at himself in the mirror as he ran his fingers under the warm, relaxing
water.
He is a cute baby. I bet he will be smart, too, just like his old man…
Saint could see right away the little sweetheart was an Angel Child. He had kindness
in his dark brown eyes, just like his father. The baby was the real deal, not just
a placebo, a sugar pill of good will. Donna had softened a bit since she’d given birth.
The woman still acted a bit standoffish, but rudeness was no longer an accurate description,
much to his amazement. Saint supposed it was her way of saying, ‘Thank you’ for the
crucial health advice he’d given during her turbulent pregnancy, and for being there
for Lawrence when his nerves had become frazzled and completely undone like ratty
shoelaces. The baby’s heart rate had dropped dangerously low during his birth, and
it took Saint and Jagger to calm the man down, physically force him to sit so they
could talk some sense into him. Saint knew it would be okay, he’d felt it, but at
times like that, there was no point in trying to be rational with a man who believed
his child may die at any moment. He’d never seen Lawrence worried before, at least
not to that level. He was always the one bringing others back to their core, centering
them, but now, things had reversed, and it was the damndest thing to witness. Amazing
how fatherhood changed men…
He dried his hands and circumnavigated his way down the steps, his thoughts swaying
from sex to work obligations and ideas for a much-needed vacation. As he drew closer,
he could hear chatter and the air acquired a certain flavor. The scent of kindred
spirits floated about, titillating his senses. He could smell his own kind, and the
two vibrant souls were oh so wonderful…
Lawrence and Tyler…
The corners of his lips lifted as he hastened his pace, his feet beating the floor
in rapid strides.
“Heeeey.” He grabbed Lawrence by the shoulder, brought him in close and gave him several
hearty pats along the back. “Good to see you, man.”
“Good to see you, too. Uh…” Lawrence looked over his shoulder at the partially opened
front door then back at Saint. “Donna will be in in a sec. She is finishing up a phone
call and getting the baby bag out of the car,” Lawrence explained as he awkwardly
switched the infant boy to his other arm. Saint shot a side-glance at Xenia who appeared
to not have noticed anyone else in that room but Tyler. A sunny smile broke into her
face, and her digits twitched like those of a vampire exposed to sunlight. The baby
fever had been born within her yet once again, and no one mattered more in that instant
than the little one in the diaper. Saint rolled his eyes, huffed and crossed his arms,
all while simultaneously grinning. He had no idea how’d he’d gotten wrapped up with
a woman that suffered from extreme infant mania.
He’d been certain that after she’d received her heart’s desire, their daughter Isis,
that blessing would squelch her cravings. She finally had the little girl she’d wanted
from the very beginning. He wasn’t completely in error, for he knew what this was
truly about. In fact, the birth of their third child had somewhat relieved her yearnings,
but not when it came to
other
peoples’ children. The woman was insatiable. Her womb may have closed for business,
but everyone elses’ became her playground. Who was he kidding? He actually found this
attribute about her extremely beautiful. He didn’t mind playing second fiddle, for
the woman couldn’t help it. She was maternal and nurturing, and shit, he found that
fuckin’ sexy.
“Um, I’ll take him.” Xenia cut through the silence like a heated knife through butter
as she thrust her arms out, giving a few tense chuckles so as to soften her desperate
appearance. No one was fooled.
“Oh, yes, of course.” Lawrence gingerly handed his son to Xenia and, in a nervous
motion, shoved his fingers in his pockets, uncertain what to do with himself. He settled
on folding his hands under his pits.
“We’ll take good care of him,” Saint reassured. “No worries, man.”
“No, I’ve heard of how you take care of the kids, Saint.” Lawrence grimaced, not hiding
his sudden disapproval.
Saint warmed with embarrassment and shot Xenia a threatening glare, but the woman
was paying him no mind as she coddled and cooed, talking in baby language to the young
boy.
“I feel much better knowing that Xenia will be on the clock.” And the man kept a poker
face as he added his extra zinger to the mix.
“What?!” Saint threw his arms up, somewhat amused and properly pissed at the same
time. It was more than obvious that Xenia had been running her mouth to Donna again,
spilling out their personal business like free cookie samples at the mall. She’d no
doubt shared the wall climbing story and the three-layered cake for breakfast fiasco.
The woman was smearing his reputation, crushing him like rubble, making a fool of
him, stomping him down into the dastardly dirt. Besmirching his good name. He wouldn’t
have it.
“I’ll have you know.” He stood a bit taller and pointed at Lawrence, his eyes narrowed
on the man. “I take
very
good care of my children when Xenia isn’t around.”
“I’m sure you do,” Lawrence said insincerely, and was saved when the front door swung
completely open and Donna entered in a frazzle with a blue and sage paisley bag swinging
wildly from her shoulder. She was dressed to the mothafuckin’ nines, number eight
was looking on in awe and number seven stared in wonder. Saint slowly scanned her,
pleased that the grating woman could put some shit together that showed that she in
fact
was
female, and not a shell covering a heartless soul. A damn shame, actually. She was
quite attractive, but her notorious bad attitude tripped her, got in the way. Her
reputation was built on the bricks and mortar of being defensive… Simply put, Donna
was known to be unsavory and brusque. Nevertheless, the past was the past, and he
reached out to give her a loose yet neighborly hug.
“Hello, Donna. I hope you and Lawrence have a good time tonight.”
“Yes, I’m looking forward to it.” She stood there stiffly, as if she had been cut
out of paper, starched and pressed.
“Where are you two going?” Xenia asked, not taking her eyes off Tyler who was quiet
as could be as he looked longingly into Xenia’s eyes. The little guy seemed to be
taking it all in, unaware that his parents were about to run off into the setting
sunset and leave him with strange people, one of which would barely allow him room
to breathe.
“Providence. I’ve been dying to try their Norwegian cod,” Donna explained.
“It’s delicious!” Xenia nodded, knowing the full menu all too well. It was one of
her favorite spots, and it seemed to make her even happier knowing that not only would
the couple have a much needed night on the town, but they’d have great food, too.
“You all are going to have a wonderful night and look, take your time.” Xenia waved
her hand at them, as if to say, ‘Go on! Stay out forever!’
No! Don’t take your time! I need y’all back here in two hours, you hear me? Two damn
hours, two and a half, tops!
Saint screamed at Lawrence telepathically. He would’ve stomped his foot at the end
of the declaration, if he was certain it wouldn’t draw him undue attention.
Lawrence glared back at him, a look of total revulsion and disenchantment etched on
his face.
Saint, you selfish prick. I know what this is about. You want to have sex! Well, I
haven’t had sex in a while, either, so join the damn club! Your little romp in the
hay will have to wait.
Saint burst out laughing, causing the two women to look up at him in confusion. Saint
caught Lawrence’s eye, and they held back bellyfuls of merriment; instead, they smirked
at one another.
…I was just kidding. Seriously, take all the time you need.
Lawrence nodded in appreciation as Donna rattled off the details of Tyler’s care then
handed Xenia ‘baby tips’ per a handwritten piece of pink paper. Xenia kindly accepted
it, and laid it down on the table while Saint grimaced.
She’s had a newborn before, Donna…
But he kept his thoughts to himself.
Regardless, Xenia was patient. She gave a ridiculously convincing star performance
on taking Donna’s set of instructions seriously, peering over the baby’s head with
a somber expression imprinted on her face. Xenia patted his tiny back as Donna picked
up the paper and recited the damn thing, scanning it with the utmost scrutiny, as
if she were reading verses from the Bible. Saint attempted to tune her out, but the
woman continued to give step-by-step instructions as if Xenia were being left with
a classified, top-secret aircraft and expected to fly it into the heavens. After a
few tense moments, the couple was gone. The front door was closed and locked and by
the time he’d turned back around, he realized he’d lost his damn wife and she would
not be returning anytime soon.
Xenia sank into the couch, tucking her feet beneath her as if about to read a book
she’d been waiting weeks to dig into. Her lips curved into the goofiest of grins as
she cupped the teeny baby’s head with the delicateness of a bee’s feet upon a flower
petal. Tyler had a head full of straight black hair. He was the color of warmed honey
and his fat cheeks reminded Saint of a cherub, something out of a beautifully spun
fairytale. So Saint resolved to accept his fate, and gave the woman her space. Xenia
was in love with the little guy and refused to be distracted. It became quite apparent
that unless Saint was on fire, she would not take notice of anything he did or uttered
and even then, she’d ask that he simply jump in the pool, and leave her be.
Despite their limited time together, Tyler had taken an immediate liking to Xenia
soon after he was born. He could be crying until he was reduced to a ball of red flesh,
beyond the threshold of fussy, but whenever his wife held him, he’d calm right down
as if her fingers and voice were some magical pacifier. He knew the feeling; she was
able to do the same thing to him, too…
“A baby, you need me to warm up some milk or anything?” Saint rubbed his hands together,
not sure what to do with himself as he blew awkwardly in the wind of the moment.
She didn’t look up at him, but simply answered, “No, honey. He just ate. Thanks though.”
He nodded, accepted the situation once and for all, and made his way down to his man
cave. Well, that was not entirely true. As he stomped down the steps, a wave of immature
sulking rose within him. The woman clearly wanted to be alone with the precious angel,
and he simply could not compete.
Maybe if I put on a diaper and shoved her nipple in my mouth, she’d want to play with
me, too?
He giggled at the notion of his grown, hairy ass stuffed in a twin bed white sheet
from one of the kid’s rooms wrapped around him like a cloth diaper. He even envisioned
an oversized blue bonnet wrapped around his head while he sucked on his thumb. That
strange thought led him right to memories of an old patient of his. The man’s name
was Ulysses, and he hailed from Brooklyn. A hard working laborer, the big Irish guy
had vibrant red hair and piercing blue eyes, and freckles sprinkled about the bridge
of his upturned nose. He’d burst into Saint’s office with a problem, the sexual kind…