Lady Luck by Kristen Ashley
“I will, you don’t quit buyin’ that shit for Lell. How many does she have now, a thousand?”
It was more like nine hundred and twenty-five. But I decided not to quibble and instead change the subject.
“We should probably get up and shower. I have to start cooking.”
He held my eyes. Then his big, warm hand pressed lightly into my belly and his gaze moved there.
When his touch didn’t ease and his gaze didn’t shift for some time, I called softly, “Ty?” and his eyes, those beautiful, light brown eyes with their thick, black, curly lashes came to me.
“Proof,” he whispered.
“What?” I whispered back, lost in his eyes, over five years with my man and, still, I frequently got lost in those eyes.
“Proof,” he repeated then explained, “Lady Luck likes us.”
I grinned because she did. I’d had five beautiful years and I wasn’t sure but I was thinking we were favorites.
“Yeah,” I said softly.
His hand pressed slightly deeper as his head bent so he could touch his mouth to mine. Then his lips went away but his forehead touched mine.
Then he was out of bed but reaching in and then I was out of bed.
Then we were in the shower.
It was a long one.
Seriously, if my man didn’t want so many kids, he should probably stop fucking me so much.
Then again, at that point, the damage was done so we might as well have fun.
* * * * *
The doorbell rang and there were three, “I’ll get its,” one from Bess, one from Honey and a deep, rumbling one from Ty.
Ty won and I knew this because Bess and Honey didn’t stop what they were doing and Ty moved.
At his rumble, I had looked over the counter and I saw Bess’s man, Roland, and Honey’s man, Zander, sitting in armchairs but I watched my husband appear from behind the couch in our sunken family room. Ella Alexi was on his back. We called her “Lella” or “Lell” because, when she started speaking, that was how she referred to herself.
She called my other Ella Gramma.
My husband shifted to his feet with his daughter on his back with practiced ease. This was because both Lell and Vivie considered their father’s large frame their own personal jungle gym and treated it as such.
He didn’t complain. Not once.
Lell locked her arms around his neck, her little legs not long enough to surround his chest (even though she was well off the charts for height, still, she wasn’t even five) but they still clutched tight. Ty helped, curving a long arm behind him under her bottom.
Lell secure on his back, I watched as he bent then I heard a squeal and he came up with Vivian Bess, our Vivie, carrying her under his free arm like a sack of grain. She kept squealing but it wasn’t her pissed off squeal, it was her giggly squeal.
Then he strode to the four steps then up them carrying his daughters while his head turned and his eyes slid to me. I grinned at him. He grinned back. Vivie squealed again. His grin turned into a smile.
Then I lost sight of him as he headed to the front door.
I looked back to the sunken living room which had floor to ceiling windows out in a point that were nearly a story and a half tall and gave a view of the hill, Carnal and the hills and mountains beyond. The family room was vast. Up the four steps it opened into an almost equally vast kitchen that sat at the heart of the house and faced the family room over a high counter with stools. Off to one side and up two steps was a circular room that was a dining room that had huge windows and French doors to a deck. Off to the other side and down two steps was a square room that was an office, ditto with the windows, doors and deck. Down the wide side hall to the front door at the front of the house was a more formal living room and a set of stairs that led to the top floor. Down the other wide, side hall off the office that also eventually led to the living room was a smaller opening that included a butler’s pantry and an area the developers called a “Mom’s Unit” which included cupboards and a long counter with a cutout at one end that gave space for a chair. That was where I had my sewing machine and did my craft stuff. Further down that hall on one side was a half bath, on the other side was the door to a three car garage. On top of all this vast space was another, smaller, open family room, five bedrooms and three full baths, one of those full baths being in Ty and my gigantic master suite that also faced front in a point with floor to ceiling windows to our spectacular view and off the side opposite the bath there was a private deck.
I found the house about three weeks after our ordeal finally ended for good. It was in a cushy development up a hill off the north side of Carnal. The houses were few and very far apart. Ours had been ordered by a family whose father unfortunately and unexpectedly lost his high-paying job so they had to back out. The good news about that was, they’d gone for the gusto on build with all the upgrades they could order and the developers were scrambling to find someone who’d take it off their hands. So we got it for a song though that song was still a whack.
Once I saw it, I went back with Laurie, Wendy, Betty and Maggie who all agreed it was the shit then I went back with Dominic and Kayeleen and they told me I had to have it so I took my husband there thinking he’d say no way.
It was huge. It was pricey.
But it was us.
Ty, being Ty, walked through without comment then stood in the empty space of the master suite that had only two weeks before been carpeted and had criss-cross stripes of tape on the massive windows. He stared out the windows for three seconds then looked down at me and muttered, “Get it, mama.”
I didn’t demur. I got it.
We made a whack on the condo, we had a whack in the bank and we recovered the whack that Arnold Fuller stole from our safe. Our mortgage ended up being the same as the condo and we still had money in the bank.
I had Ella Alexi and finished my massage therapy certification which didn’t triple my salary, it quadrupled it (not to mention, I loved being a massage therapist because I was right, peopled loved coming to see me, I was the highlight of their day).
So it was all good.
I heard movement and mutterings and looked to the side, my hands on a rolling pin rolling pie dough, and I saw Laurie, Tate, Ty and my daughters emerge from the hall. Lella was still on her Daddy’s back but now Vivie had her little arms wrapped around Tate’s neck, one of his arms was behind him supporting her booty, the other hand lifted and holding onto her forearm.
I smiled at him then looked to Laurie who was talking.
“Hey, guys,” she greeted Ella, Bessie, Honey and me, all of us in the kitchen cooking, something Ty told me I should not allow (except Bess and me) but something, since it was Thanksgiving, I really couldn’t stop them from doing.
Laurie got heys back and walked into the kitchen, dumping bags on the counter beside me and saying, “Sorry, honey, but Jonas is a no show. This week he and his girl have decided it’s forever and he’s at her parents’ house for dinner. We didn’t get the news until about an hour ago and thus ensued a father son talk that I was dragged into as an innocent but silent bystander, silent because I couldn’t get a word in edgewise, so I didn’t have a chance to warn you.” Then she leaned in and said quietly, “This has not made his father happy.”
I looked in her eyes and asked a surprised, “Tate doesn’t like Jonas’s girlfriend?” And I was surprised because I’d met her more than once, she was cute, she was sweet, she was a cheerleader and since Jonas was the captain of the football team, handsome, smart, funny and doting, they fit.
“Tate doesn’t like Jonas bailing on his family on a family holiday at the last minute for some girl,” she replied then told me something I already knew. “Though, they’ve been together now for three years so she isn’t exactly some girl. But Tate also doesn’t like them being together for three years. He does not want his son to make his father’s mistakes. That said, she’s really sweet and not exactly like Tate’s high school girlfrien
I was filing this away to tell Ty later as proof that sons might not always be easier than daughters when Laurie gave me more fodder.
“Jonas looks just like his Dad and acts just like his Dad. This is not lost on Tate. Though Tate doesn’t see that Jonas has skipped the twenty-five years his father lived through hell with Neeta. I’ve also explained this to him and he’s ignored me so he’ll have to figure that out too.”
This was good stuff and I wanted her to tell me more but she shut it down.
“Now,” she clapped her hands. “What can I do?”
“You know how to make sweet potato pie?” Ella chimed in readily.
“Of course,” Laurie said, “that’s my favorite.”
“Stuff’s all set out,” Ella jerked her head to another counter across the kitchen where the stuff was, indeed, all set out. “Have at it.”
Laurie moved the sweet potato pie station and Honey moved to Laurie’s bags and unearthed a six pack of beer, two bottles of wine, the chocolate pecan pie Laurie promised to bring, a gallon of ice cream and three cans of spray whipping cream, the best kind.
Vivie suddenly shrieked, my head snapped up and I saw that Ty had switched the channel from the parade to a game to watch with Tate, Roland and Zander.
His eyes came over the back of the couch to me and they spoke volumes. I looked down to my pie crust and kept rolling while grinning.
At shriek two from Vivie which included actual words this time and they were, “No footbaw, Daddy!”, Bessie forged into the opening breach, calling while walking toward the living room, “Vivie, girl, get in here, baby, you too Lellie, honey. Girls get to be in the kitchen doing the fun stuff.”
Lell appeared instantly, dashing in quickly but quietly.
My first born was like her father. She had a lot to say and a lot of ways to communicate but not all those were with words.
Vivie made a mad, boisterous dash, screeching, “Fun stuff!” and shaking her hands over her head.
And it was obvious who my second born took after.
Lell attacked her grandmother’s legs, wrapped her arms around, tipped her head way back and smiled up at Ella. Ella instantly bent and lifted her, depositing her bottom on the counter and explaining she was peeling potatoes so we could mash them later. Lell listened with rapt attention and stared with absorption at her grandmother’s hands.
Bessie swung Vivie up in her arms while Vivie still shrieked, “Fun stuff! Fun stuff! Fun stuff!” as Bess carried her into the kitchen and then this chant changed to, “Pie! Pie! Pie!” when she spotted Laurie’s pie.
“That’s for dessert, baby,” Bess murmured to her.
“Pie, Auntie Bess!” Vivie squealed.
I ignored my daughter squealing and could do this because I had a great deal of practice because she rarely spoke in any other tone and I turned to Honey and asked, “Can you get Tate a beer and see if the boys need a fresh one? Game’s on.”
Honey grinned at me and rushed to the fridge.
I rolled the pie crust over the rolling pin then rolled it over the pie dish.
“Pie!” my daughter shrieked.
The doorbell rang.
My eyes went back to the family room to see Ty fold off the couch. Then I looked back at my crust.
One minute later, I heard called, “Where are my ragamuffins!”
“Grandpa,” Lell whispered, her eyes moving across Ella to me and they were alight.
“Grandpa!” Vivie squealed and fought Bess’s arms.
Bess let her down and Vivie raced out of the kitchen. Then she moved to Lell and let her down and she raced out too.
Thirty seconds later, Irv appeared with both girls riding his legs, their bottoms skimming the floor as he walked.
More greetings which Irv returned but he came right to me, my daughters still riding his calves, ankles and feet. He wrapped his hand around the back of my neck, bent in and kissed my temple.
I closed my eyes.
“Hey, Irv,” I whispered.
“Beautiful,” he whispered back and squeezed my neck.
I opened my eyes and tipped them back to look up at him.
He smiled at me.
I smiled back.
Then, with some effort and not very quickly, he shuffled out of the kitchen with my girls still attached to his legs.
“You want a beer, Irv?” Honey called and my eyes shot to Ty.
“Coke,” Irv called back with zero hesitation, “Thanks Honey-hon.”
Jeez, I loved it when Irv called Honey “Honey-hon”.
I let out a breath. Ty followed his Dad. Honey raced out with Irv’s soda like she’d get to stand on a podium and have a medal draped around her neck if she got the fastest time. That was Honey; she’d definitely win gold for being sweet.
I started to cut the overhang off the pie crust around the edge.
The doorbell rang again. Ty went after it again.
One minute later, we heard Julius shout, “That fuckin’ pool at the hotel is heated. My man, I took a dip at nine thirty at night, in the mountains, snow all around and it was the shit!”
“Unkul Juujuu!” Vivie shrieked and I could hear her little feet on the go and I was loving every minute of my daughter’s excitement. Mostly this was because she was excited; she had a lot of love to give and enjoyed spreading it around so she was in heaven. But also this was because this meant that later, she’d be out like a light.
I looked into the family room and saw Lell on her grandfather’s lap. Her head was turned to her sister but it quickly turned back. This was not because she didn’t love her Uncle Julius, this was because she absolutely freaking adored her Granddad.
I watched as she tipped her head back and lifted her little hand to put it to her grandfather’s throat. That was her thing these days. She liked the vibrations she could feel when people talked.
As for me, I liked to feel my daughter’s hand on my throat when I was talking to her.
“That man needs to watch his mouth,” Ella muttered.
I didn’t respond. Five years and the big family Ty and I somehow managed to acquire that was close and stayed close because they’d endured multiple dramas, the aftermath of tragedy and the lingering fear that never really went away of thwarted tragedy. This meant we didn’t stay apart long and paths crossed often, holidays, birthdays, vacations. Everyone knew everyone else very well. And most everyone got along.
But Ella wasn’t a big fan of Julius’s profession or the fact that he had three women. I’d talked to her about this repeatedly and did not change her mind. Julius being Julius, therefore not only likeable but loveable, also did not manage to change her mind. Bess and Honey adored him. So did my daughters. Ella was just going to have to suck it up.
More people, more greetings, these with Julius, Anana and her daughter with Julius, Ilori, who was nearly eight and closing on the beauty of her mother. Anana joined the women in the kitchen. Ilori went with her Dad to join the men. Honey unveiled the Julius family offering. More beer. More wine. A bottle of top shelf vodka. A bunch of flowers.
The doorbell rang again. Ty moved to it again.
I was pouring pumpkin pie stuff in my crust and didn’t hear anything but boots hitting tile then I felt a hand at the small of my back. I stopped, turned my head and looked slightly down.
“Angel,” I whispered.
“Hola, mi querida.”
I smiled. Angel smiled back.
“How is Carnal Hotel?” I asked.
“The pool is heated,” Angel answered.
My smile got bigger. So did his.
“Though, thinkin’ I took a swim last night with a big, black guy who boosts cars,” he added. “You won’t tell my Cap, will you?”
He totally knew he’d taken a swim with a big, black guy who boosts cars consideri
“Your secret is safe with me,” I whispered and that got me a bigger smile.
Then he put slight pressure on my back before his hand fell away.
I looked around him and smiled again at Angel’s very pregnant wife, “Hey there, Rosalia.”
“Hey, Lexie. Hey, y’all.” She dumped bags on the counter. “Anything I can do?”
Ella, the oldest, the grandmother therefore not being in her house but still being the boss, gave out instructions.
Rosalia got busy.
Angel moved toward a couch.
Ty moved behind him.
Vivie caught sight of Angel and dissed Julius to shriek, “Unkul Anhay!” and throw herself bodily from Julius to Angel who was not prepared but fortunately caught her after she launched herself off the arm of a chair before Julius could stop her. Then Angel lifted her up, threw her in the air, caught her then pulled her close and blew a raspberry in her neck all the while my daughter emitted shrieking giggles.
Rosalia emitted a quiet giggle beside me.
My eyes slid to Lella and Irv and I saw their heads bent to their hands. They were playing thumb war, my daughter’s tiny fingers curled around her grandfather’s very not tiny fingers. I watched him let her win. I listened to her soft giggle. My eyes moved to my husband to see he was also watching, his face in profile but I could still see was soft.
Then I went back to pouring pumpkin stuff in the pie shell.
Lots of people, lots of mouths to feed.
I had to get my shit together so I could feed my family.
* * * * *
Just to explain and update a few things…
* * * * *
That day five years ago, Irv knew how to find me because Irv knew that hunting cabin. Every black man and woman in the tri-county are did. And they did because Arnold Fuller was what he was because his Daddy and Granddaddy taught him how to be that way. And, back in the day when they could get away with it, any black man who stepped outside of what the Fullers and their brethren felt was their place, Fuller’s Daddy, Granddaddy and their brethren took them to that cabin and taught them their place.