Shopping with Mrs. Blakemore Read online

  The family had been surprised when Saxton had phoned and said he had gotten married in Mexico. They were pleased that the ceremony had been performed by a Catholic priest, and even more pleased to find out that he had not married a little Mexican girl who patted out homemade tortillas on her thighs. However, the surprise could not be contained when he walked in the door with Odessa. Once the story was relayed as to how they met, and after seeing the genuine affection they had for each other, Bobby Ray, Lucy, Belva and Connard accepted the new addition to the family.

  The same could not be said about Patsy Lucas Sterling, Lucy’s mother. As Saxton and Odessa entered the 10,000 square foot Blakemore ranch home, they were greeted by family, friends, and some cousins she had met last year. Each summer, for the Fourth of July, Bobby Ray slaughtered a few hogs, a couple steer, and had recently added some lamb to the annual cookout. Odessa had met many of the family then, and a few more members over the holidays, but today, she met one or two more.

  Each day, up until the Fourth, more family was arriving for the annual shebang. She and Saxton were only scheduled to be in Panama for four days and would return in more than enough time to join in on the fun. They passed out hugs and kisses, and were pleased to see the fun had already begun. Lucy was in full swing, barking out orders in her high Texas drawl; Odessa offered to help.

  “Lawd, no. I have a staff to handle the actual work, Sweetheart. My days of standing over a hot anything, other than Bobby Ray, are long gone,” Lucy told her as she set a Mint Julep in front of Odessa.

  Saxton had disappeared to the barn to saddle up his horse, Longshot, for an afternoon ride with his father. Belva had come into the kitchen in just the nick of time. Odessa was becoming very uncomfortable under the scrutinizing gaze of Grandma Patsy. At 79 years old, Grandma had witnessed a great deal of change in America, some for the better—a lot of it, she felt was for the worse. Race-mixing was at the top of her list of for the worst. She didn’t care what Lucy said, or how many of Odessa’s virtues and traits she exalted, it was wrong, she felt—just plain wrong.

  “Belva,” Odessa asked, “are you heading out on the lanai?

  The look on Odessa’s face was one that Belva recognized. There were questions and concerns her sister-in-law needed to discuss. She had seen the same look on her other sister-in-law Clementine’s face when she wanted to talk about Connard. She rose to follow Belva outside with Grandma Patsy clutching her purse to her breast, staring at her with much disdain as she walked by.

  Lucy was having no part of this nonsense, “Good Lord Mama, stop staring and acting ridiculous. The girl is just black—it’s not like she is a Lutheran.”

  Patsy was holding her ground, “I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit!”

  “Oh, I could swim to Hell and back on the things that I don’t like, Mama, starting with this watered down Mint Julep.”

  No amount of deterrence was going to stop Patsy from voicing her opinion, “I do not like the idea of our family line being denigrated by adding mud to our gene pool.”

  Patsy nearly choked. “Denigrating our gene pool?” She repeated herself again as her mother raised her chin in haughty defiance. “Did you tell that to Daddy after you found out his uncle married his cousin?”

  Patsy’s mouth was tight, her chin still raised, but Lucy went on, “You asked me to hide it from Bobby Ray that your nephew is banned in 3 counties for breaking into people’s henhouses and fornicating with their chickens!”

  “He is also your cousin, Lucille Elizabeth Blakemore, so watch your mouth!” Patsy slammed her purse on the counter.

  “I don’t claim that fool, Mama, and neither did you after he made the six o’ clock news with feathers hanging out of his zipper, claiming Mr. Kingman’s Jersey Giant had enticed him into that barn.” Patsy could not stifle her laughter.

  “I’m just saying, Mama, that girl loves my Saxton, and he loves her. You will not mistreat or speak ill of, or to her, in my home.” There was a commotion in the living room as the ladies from the church had come over to sit a spell with Patsy. Giggles and exclamations were seeping from the room as Lucy made her way around the corner to see what was going on.

  Bobby Ray had just come through the back door when he heard his wife gasp. “Bobby Ray! Bobby Ray! Get in here,” he dropped his Stetson by the door and booked it to the parlor. He stopped short in the doorway when he spotted his brother Dusty without his boots on, waving his big toes at the group of gray haired good natured Catholic women.

  Patsy was at a loss. Bobby Ray did not start to laugh until after Lucy began to caterwaul about what she was seeing. “Bobby Ray,” she said with her hands on her hips, “you get that damned fool to put his shoes back on and stop titillating those old women! I swear his big toe looks like a gigantic deformed dick!” That was the line that did it for Bobby Ray who broke out in laughter, followed by Connard, who entered the room to collect his uncle, who had gotten into the bourbon at 10 a.m.

  Lucy looked at Patsy, “We will be lucky if Odessa doesn’t decide she don’t want any part of us, Mama.” She patted her forehead with the back of her hand, then smoothed down the edges of her summer dress, holding her head high as she made her way back to the kitchen, “Somebody—anybody—get rid of this sweet crap and bring me a highball!”

  Odessa sat on the patio under the misters with Belva, who wasted no time getting to the crux of the matter at hand, “Spit it out Odessa, I have a paper to write on the lack of social graces caused by the influx of electronic devices into our lives.” This, she stated as she sent out three tweets, updated her Facebook page with a photo-bombed shot of her and Odessa, plus a quick text to Johnny Guffey to meet her behind the barn at sundown. Belva was 31 years old and trying to date again.

  “It’s nothing, Belva. Maybe I’m just overreacting or overthinking things,” Odessa told her as she sipped at the horrifically-sweet drink and sat it down. She was worried that she and Saxton’s nontraditional beginning would mean a short-lived marriage. Insecurity had reared its head and she feared that the novelty of the whole marriage thing and the 9 to 5, was boring, and he was itching to get back in the game.

  “Odessa, did he tell you he wanted to get back in the game?”

  “Well,” she paused, looking at Saxton’s little sister sheepishly, “he didn’t.”

  Belva leaned forward in the chair, she was only younger than Saxton by four years and was a professor at the University of Houston, “Then he doesn’t. You know him well enough by now to understand he means what he says and says what he means. There is very little gray in Saxton’s world.”

  It was true. Saxton Blakemore was a man of his word. “Belva, you know, even my friends have said something about there being no love at first sight, or whirlwind romance between he and I. That our marriage came about as a trick by someone who hated his guts....” her voice trailed off.

  Belva understood what she was saying, “That love at first sight stuff and whirlwind romance crap is written by women who ain’t getting any on a regular basis. It’s not real life. Marriage is based on understanding, common purpose, love, and building something together. I have never seen my brother happier. He is happy because of what he has with you.”

  Odessa stared out over the plain that rested between the back yard and outer barns. In the sunset, she could see Saxton’s frame sitting on top of Longshot, as he brought the horse to a canter, heading towards the barn. She knew the routine— unsaddle, wipe down, brush, and then give his baby some oats. Saxton knew how to take care of those things he cherished most. She was well cared for, loved often, and also felt cherished. Why was this niggling at her so much?

  “It is niggling at you because you have yet to understand that some relationships are partnerships in more than just love. Sometimes, the cosmos align and two people are pulled together to have a greater purpose on this planet and to make a difference.” Belva had Odessa’s attention, “Bill Gates did not build his empire alone, Melinda was there to understand and help facili
tate the dream.”

  Odessa had started to smile as Belva used other examples of Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, Bill and Camille Cosby, and she closed by adding, “Odessa, where there is a Will....”

  Odessa added, “There is a way.”

  “No sweetie, there is a Jada,” and they both started to laugh. “It has only been a year. Year two is when couples decide which direction their marriage is headed and how they want to focus their dream. In the meantime, until the vision is revealed, just enjoy loving your husband.”

  With that, the conversation was closed. Belva’s words placated her for now. In her heart, there was a still an unsettling feeling that everyone was watching them.

  Chapter 4- Houston, I See a Problem

  How his father had managed to run out of tomato puree for his homemade barbeque sauce, absolutely amazed Saxton. He found it more troubling that his dad asked him to go to Sam’s Club and pick up some more. Odessa volunteered to ride along with him and he smiled, thinking that his wife was a true ride-or-die chick. The smile left his face when he imagined her reaction to being called a chick. He had witnessed a woman in a store call her a bitch last Christmas as they both went for the same item. When Odessa finished with the woman, the lady handed everything she had in the basket to Odessa and told her to take what she wanted. That still made him chuckle.

  Although his old pick-up truck was still at his parent’s ranch, Connard volunteered the use of his truck. Three miles outside of town, Saxton found out why. The cheap buzzard had not put any gas in the vehicle. It was just insulting that there was a pump on the farm for diesel and his brother had purchased a flex fuel vehicle. All he had to do was roll to the back of the barn and fuel up. Connard was just plain lazy.

  At the first gas station on the left, Saxton pulled in to the pumping island for diesel fuel. Two could play this game, he would only put in $10 worth of gas, instead of filling it up like his brother had hoped. “Saxton, when you go inside, will you bring me back a bottle of water?”

  It was unusual for Odessa to travel without a cup of ice water, especially in the summer, but Saxton considered it to be a lucky moment. Inside the gas station was where he noticed the man with the snake tattoo on his hand. It was an unusual marking which drew his attention, but the familiarity of it is what troubled him. He paid for the gas and headed back to the truck where Odessa was bobbing to That’s My Kind of Night.

  “Saxton, I am digging this country song! Who is this?”

  “I think that is Luke Bryan.”

  “I may have to buy this CD. I am feeling this.” She pursed her lips and started rolling her neck. Saxton laughed as she wiggled in the front seat. He found it even funnier as she began to sing along with the refrain. He had all but forgotten the Hispanic man with the tattoo until they entered the wholesale club.

  Odessa was trying on cowgirl boots and had put on a pair that he would be embarrassed to walk alongside her wearing, “Take off those dudette boots. If you are going to get a pair, just get you a pair of Ropers.” She tried to remove the studded and bedazzled roach stompers and found herself stuck. When Saxton bent down to help her, he noticed the rather large Caucasian man observing the whole scene. Initially, Saxton thought the man was watching his wife’s ass, but second observation was that he was using it as a ruse. Saxton spotted the same tattoo on his hand that the man in the gas station also had on his left hand.

  If you see something once, it is random; you see it twice it is a coincidence. Once he spotted the third man in the parking lot sporting the same tattoo, he knew then they were being watched and followed. The past fifteen months had been a whirlwind. The recovery after the surgeries, the rehab for his injuries, the honeymoon in Paris, and the PTSD, were all vying for space in his brain. That tattoo was familiar.

  As he pulled into the ranch, he began to play a mental game of visual mnemonics to place the left hand, the snake image, with the location. His wife had purchased the CD is the store and was now blaring Luke Bryan all the way home. He stopped half way up the mile long front drive to the ranch house and turned off the music. Odessa became quiet and watched his face.

  Left hand.

  Snake.

  Tattoo.

  Snake moves.

  Snake touches hair.

  Tattoo on hand.

  Tattoo on left hand.

  Who had a snake tattoo on his left hand?

  Saxton shuddered. Then he looked at Odessa. The color had drained from his face. “Delgado had a coiling viper tattooed on his left hand.”

  Odessa nodded in agreement, “Yes, so did Rentería.”

  He grabbed his phone and dialed the collection management officer assigned to this project that worked alongside Agent Roget, “This is Blakemore. We are in Houston, and we have a problem.” It was not the first one either. Odessa had managed to create an even bigger problem for herself.

  Chapter 5 – Snakes on the Plane

  The horrific moans startled Saxton from his sleep. Instinct made him reach for his wife, who was not in bed. Panic begin to fill his chest as he whispered her name in the dark, “Odessa? Talk to me, Baby. Are you okay?” Then he heard the flush of the toilet. A quick flick of his wrist, he turned on the nightlight, sitting up in the bed when he saw the bathroom door open. His wife looked horrible.

  “I think Grandma Patsy tried to kill me,” she said as she flopped across the bed, face down, appearing to have lost her will to live. “That wasn’t chili, it was a nuclear powered colon cleanser.”

  Saxton had risen from the bed to head to the bathroom, “I told you not to eat it. I am a trained assassin, possess two black belts, and am skilled in the use of twelve weapons. Even I don’t have the courage to eat my Grandma’s chili!”

  Odessa moaned some more, “Saxton, wait.” She pulled down her pajama bottoms and spread her buns, “Is my ass still there? Do you see smoke? Do you think they do anus implants because I think that old woman has ruined me.”

  Saxton headed towards the bathroom door but stopped when the scent hit his nostrils, “That is not the only thing the two of you have ruined,” he told her as he pinched his nostrils together, “and close that up, it is not very flattering, although you do have a great ass, just not from this perspective.” He was still frowning when he entered the bathroom and came out a few minutes later. With the help of a little hemorrhoid cream, he smoothed some on her bum, washed his hands, and slid into bed besides her.

  “I just wanted to impress your Grandma, and I thought that eating a bowl of her chili would endear me to her,” she told Saxton as he rubbed her tummy, willing it to feel better.

  “Sweetheart, that is a lovely sentiment, but my Grandma is still stuck in 1954.” He planted a small kiss on her forehead, “I love my Grammy, but I don’t agree with many of her views. And unless her chili is going to change the color of your skin, you can pretty much leave that alone.”

  “I don’t know about changing the color of my skin, but I know my red ass will never be the same.”

  The farewells to the Blakemore clan were quick. In less than a week they would be back for the big Fourth of July celebration. On the way to the airport, Odessa made a call to her Dad, Big Sarge, just to touch base with her parents before they boarded the plane.

  “Hey, Daddy, whatcha doing?” She could almost hear Kevin Trodat’s smile through the phone.

  “Aw, just trying to get your Mama out of J.C. Penney. I am not sure how many towels we need, but she keeps buying more.” He got quiet on the line. Of his three children, Odessa was the one he was closest too. They say a parent never has a favorite, but that is just not true. One child is always dearest to your heart and his ‘Dessa, was it. “Is everything okay, ‘Dessa?”

  “Of course Daddy, I was just thinking of you. I wanted to say I love you before I got on the plane.”

  Big Sarge smiled, he understood what she was feeling; he hated flying as well. “I will see you when you get back.” There was a comfortable silence on the line. The breaths were replacing
the unspoken words. Something was scaring her and he offered her the words of comfort she called to hear, “ ‘Dessa, never enter a room or space without seeing a visible way out. Keep Saxton in your peripherals, scan your lanes, and hesitation can get you hurt.”

  A tear rolled down Odessa’s cheek. She loved her Daddy and he always knew the right thing to say, “Tell Momma I love her.”

  “I would give her the phone, but she has climbed into this damned bin of towels.” She heard the sound of fabric rustling as Big Sarge pocketed the phone, “Dora, get your ass out of there woman!”

  In the background she could hear her mother, “I love you baby! And I’m getting a nice set of towels monogrammed for you and Saxton!”

  Odessa could only imagine what her Daddy was seeing, and he was completely out of breath when he got back on the phone. “ ‘Dessa,” he said as he tried to catch his breath, “when I die, I am leaving you your Mama.”

  She hung up the phone and looked at Saxton, who was concerned at the wateriness of her eyes. “Is everything okay with your parents?”

  “Yep, Mama is just out shopping. She’s getting us some new towels.”

  Saxton arched his brows, thinking, oooh, big surprise.

  Embarkation of planes sometimes goes fairly fast, it is the disembarking that makes a person hate to travel. In the airport, Saxton had purchased a neck pillow for his wife, but it wasn’t for her neck. It was a four-hour flight and Odessa had survived the worst of Grandma’s chili, but there was always a squirt of resistance to the Imodium.

  She lasted an hour before having to make her first run to the ladies room. There was a bit of a line, and she fidgeted while waiting her turn. The very large man in line before her, stepped to the side, “I can wait; you can go ahead.”