An Untitled Love Read online

  Jacquetta fell into his arms and held him tight. Her face was buried into his shoulder as he kissed the top of her head. She squeezed him snugly as she looked at the beautiful little workspace.

  Harlan Flynn watched the scene as he rubbed his chin in bewilderment. “Now don’t that just beat all, Maggie Mae?”

  “Yeah, did you see all of that stuff she brought into the house? That stuff ain’t cheap. That nap and pile on those rugs, and that handcrafted furniture...” She paused while watching Jacquetta cling to her son. She whispered, “...he seems to know his lady. Who would have thought a little shed in the backyard would get that kind of reaction?” Maggie Flynn said.

  “You think they are going to be happy?” he asked his wife.

  “Looks like they already are,” she responded.

  Beau walked out onto the back porch. “I bet she is a closet weirdo.”

  Christopher laughed as he spoke softly, “But man she is a looker and did you see that china cabinet! That thing is handcrafted, whoever made that furniture is an artist.”

  He looked over at his little brother hugging his new wife. “Pizza’s here!”

  Chapter 9 - Pseudonymous

  THE RENTAL TRUCK, NOW completely empty, sat in the driveway. Orlando knew by morning every warm body on his street would have seen it. “Hey Christopher, grab a slice and let’s take this truck back,” Orlando said to his brother.

  Jacquetta’s eyes were wide. “Are you going to leave me with your family?”

  He gave her a smile and a quick hug. “They are your family too. The rental place is just down the road and we can save on a one day rental versus bringing it back tomorrow. Be back in a jiffy.” He kissed her on the temple as he grabbed a slice and put it on a napkin.

  Christopher watched how Jacquetta was clinging to Orlando, almost afraid to let go. Out of curiosity, he asked loudly, knowing it would keep the conversation going while they were gone, “How did you two meet?”

  “I won her in a card game,” Orlando said as he grabbed the keys to his truck, handing them to Christopher.

  “You did not!” Jacquetta exclaimed. “You beat up four men and stole me.” She started to chuckle, “Well, you really pounded that guy who was holding my dog collar.”

  “Yeah, that bastard deserved it,” Orlando said. “Especially after he hit you!”

  Maggie Mae’s mouth was wide as everyone in the room stared at them. “Hold on a minute,” Jacquetta said as she went into the office to locate a box marked personals. She tore it open and pulled out a very thick green binder that she’d use to display the scrapbook pages of photos of her and Orlando.

  She brought the large green scrapbook she’d made to the table and sat it on the edge. Uncertain of where the glasses and plates were kept, she began to open cabinets until she located enough dinnerware to serve the pizza. She found forks and passed out paper towels as his family thumbed through the binder.

  She opened the boxes of pizzas and began, “Orlando always exaggerates each time he tells the story of how he rescued me from the sex traffickers.” Every eye in the room popped up from the binder and zoomed in on her. She continued speaking as if she were sharing her favorite recipe for making the perfect chocolate chip cookie. “I was kidnapped by some Afghani rebels when I was on a mission in Iraq in 2010. I was assigned to NATO, but had come in to do some translations, evaluate some art pieces and collect some samples to take back to Italy for carbon dating.”

  At the kitchen sink, she washed her hands and began to plate pie slices and wings, passing down a plate and fork with each pie piece. “I had been moved around so much over a five day period, I was just about to give up hope of ever getting home, when I was pulled by my dog collar into a smoke filled room of men buying and selling women, girls, boys...I think I even saw a few sheep,” she told them.

  Woodson’s mouth was moving back and forth as he listened with as much interest as he could since his attention was divided between getting the slice in his mouth and watching his brother’s wife. They clung to her every word.

  “And sitting at the table of these very dangerous, callous men, was your son. The lone white man in the group of cut throats and thieves,” she said with a sigh. Her gaze wandered out the back window to her painting studio. A smile crept into the corner of her lips. She continued as she used the ice maker on the fridge to add ice to the glasses.

  “I didn’t know NATO had a tracker in me, and Orlando had been sent to find me. I thank God for him. I had managed to not be too badly hurt during the five days, but I was prepared to fight and die if I had to before I allowed any of those men...to touch me.” Her voice dropped off a bit. Beau had stopped chewing and looked at her as if she had grown horns.

  “Well go on, what happened after that?” Beau asked impatiently.

  “Yeah, what happened after that?” Jimmy Ray parroted with his thick Southern accent.

  She continued as she handed Woodson a second slice and a glass of Coke. He was half-holding the binder. Jacquetta turned the page. “This is us in Afghanistan six weeks later.” She pulled the photos from the album, passing them around the table as she explained to his family. “We had a lot of trouble getting me back to my unit. We had run into some more rebels and a dirty bomb full of shrapnel exploded, wounding Orlando in his right but cheek.”

  “So that’s how he got them thar scars on his butt?” Jimmy Ray asked. Suddenly embarrassed that he’d seen the location of the scars, he lowered his head. “Well, he is naked everything I come over!” He said in his defense.

  Jacquetta patted him on the hand as she continued the story, “Every six months, even after I went back to Italy from my assignment in Afghanistan, Orlando would come and hang out for a weekend or a week. I was in Italy for three years, then I got out of the military and moved to Paris to hone my painting skills. This is us at the Louvre,” she said as she showed them the picture.

  She picked up another picture. “This is us in Pisa...and this one is from a weekend in Verona...and here we are in Santa Margherita Ligure right outside of Genoa. We had to go there because he wanted to have some of the salami...”

  “So you are an artist?” Beau asked as he shoved a whole wing in his mouth and pulled out a clean bone.

  “I am a painter, yes. I am also an art historian. I am thinking about possibly teaching a few classes over at the college once I get all settled,” she responded.

  Maggie Mae leaned forward on the table. “So... the rush in the wedding...”

  “What do you mean?” Jacquetta asked.

  “You and Orlando had to get married...?” She craned her neck forward with the word had.

  Jacquetta’s mouth formed a big O. “Ohhhh nooooo! I am not expecting!”

  Harlan piped up, “We don’t mean to pry, but on the porch you said grandbabies, and then the first thing off the truck was the nursery furniture....”

  “The truck was loaded by rooms. The back rooms of the house first, and the nursery is going to be in the back of the house, next to our bedroom. I just thought it would make unloading the truck much easier. As you see it took only a couple of hours to unload and set up six rooms of furniture,” she said.

  Woodson spoke up, “Those are some amazing pieces of handmade furniture.”

  She nodded. “Yes, my grandfather was a furniture maker. He had a little shop right outside of Kennesaw. The nursery furniture his father also made. It has been handed down in the family for years. I am the last girl, so it came to me. We hope by next year, we can have a little one to go with the furniture.”

  Harlan was smiling at her.

  Maggie was smiling at her.

  Woodson watched her with curiosity.

  Beau spoke up, “I just want to know if you are a weirdo too?”

  Orlando was coming through the back door. “Why are you so obsessed with asking people if they are weirdos? You constantly asking that question Beau makes you the weird one!”

  “Wow, that was fast,” Jacquetta said as she placed two slices of pepperoni pizza on a plate for him with a glass of Coke.

  “Small town,” he told her.

  “Speaking of small towns son, I was wondering if this whole quick marriage thing was because Becca is coming home next week?” Maggie Mae said.

  He bit into the slice. “Oh is that next week?”

  “Her Mama said she has a big surprise,” Maggie said.

  Orlando sipped at his Coke to wash down the greasy chunk of pizza. “I wouldn’t know anything about it. She and I parted ways five months ago.”

  Woodson sat up. “I didn’t know that!”

  Orlando’s eyes were on Jacquetta. “It freed me up to be with the woman I love.”

  Her hand was on her chin as the weight of her wedding rings reminded her she was his wife. Her ring finger slid back and forth over her bottom lip as she stared back at him.

  “But son, why the quick wedding if she ain’t expecting?” Harlan asked.

  “Because, I knew all of you would act as if I had done something wrong if I had brought her home as anything other than my wife. Woodson is bitter on women. Christopher is a man whore and I am not big on church. We kept it small and private, and here we are,” Orlando said. Both Woodson and Christopher balked at his words.

  “But son,” his mother said, “You sure this doesn’t have anything to do with Becca’s surprise?”

  Orlando stood up. “Seriously Ma, are you going to insult my wife by implying that I married her because of some crap about Becca? Look at my wife. Look around this house. Look at these photos. I have had a life with this amazing woman for almost six years. I finally got the balls to do something about it. I love Jacquetta and I am raising a family with her in this house. I get to go to bed every night for the rest of my life with this wonderful wom
an who agreed to be my wife and a mother to our children. Do you seriously think that Becca is in any thought in my head?”

  Beau leaned back in the chair. “I know my mind has only been on Jacquetta since she stepped out of that truck. Orlando, you are a lucky cuss!”

  Orlando frowned at his cousin. “Shut up you meathead,” he said to Beau.

  Maggie Mae whispered to her husband, “This is going to be the talk of the town.”

  Harlan whispered back, “I think that was his intention.”

  “Well what do we do...what do we say...?” Maggie Mae whispered again to her husband.

  Harlan looked at his wife. “There ain’t nothing to say. He loves her, she loves him- they have all this history together....” Harlan whispered as he thumbed through the pages of the binder.

  Woodson stood up, raised his glass and said, “Welcome to the family Jacquetta. If there is anything you need to help you get settled, let us know.”

  Glasses clinked and hugs were passed out as Jacquetta was accepted into the Flynn family. She watched her husband chat with his parents and brothers, but his words still clung to the air in the room. Some of his words still clung to her as well. She was beginning to wonder how much of what he said had been true.

  Chapter 10 – I’m Only Human

  THE EVENING JACQUETTA spent with her husband was the furthest idea of what she expected her wedding night to be. At a little after midnight, she awoke with a start, her body layered in a cold sweat, uncertain where she was. She turned in the bed to reach for Orlando but he wasn’t beside her. Instead of calling out to him, she pushed back the covers, swinging her legs out of the bed until her feet made contact with the thick rug she had placed on the side of the queen sized bed. In her slippers, she started out of the bedroom towards the kitchen. Silently she prayed.

  Please don’t let him be doing anything freaky.

  Please don’t let him be doing anything freaky.

  The search for her husband didn’t take long. He was seated in the rocker in the nursery staring at the crib. His eyes were fixed, not glazed over, as if he were in deep thought. Jacquetta had found it strange that as much as he enjoyed sitting in his home naked, he didn’t like to sleep that way. He wore pajamas to bed. The same pajamas he was still wearing.

  “Orlando...?” she called his name.

  Slowly his head rose to look upon her with distant eyes. “I was simply feeling the weight of my day,” his voice was dry when he spoke.

  “I sure hope you aren’t thinking about going back on this marriage. There is no way in hell I am packing all of this stuff up and taking it back,” she told him.

  Orlando leaned back in the rocker, looking at her, but not really focusing on her face. “You know...I was amazed how much of what I said to my parents was the actual truth. While I was in the Army...all of those missions, it was like I was a hunting dog trained on command to sniff out and go fetch. Each mission seemed like it was going to be my last. One thing I always kept in my mind and close to my heart...,” he said as he looked up at her, “...was you. What we have has always been, I guess a kind of untitled love. I didn’t come every six months to check up on you, I came because I needed you to hold onto keep me sane.”

  He ran his hands through his thick dark hair. “I didn’t call in the marker because I wanted to save face. I called in the marker so you could save me.”

  Until this point, she was uncertain what to say. “...Save you...”

  “I was hurting. Every time I found myself hurting, I would turn to you. All I needed was a little time in your light and I could go on...” he said through a thickness in his voice.

  “...Now I have you. You are here. In my life. Jacquetta you are actually my wife. All those years, all those trips with me sleeping in one room craving your touch, afraid to ask for what I wanted. Afraid to ask you to love me... All these years and here you are, my wife, in my bed...and I still can’t fucking touch you...!”

  Panic filled her voice when she spoke, “You said you would give me time.”

  “I will give you all the time you need Jacquetta, but when a man wakes up with a hard on so powerful that it’s about to poke a hole through the mattress, time is the last thing on his mind!”

  He was yelling at her when he spoke. He softened his voice with his next words which hit her hard. “I was about to wake you and beg for an ounce of compassion, a squeeze, a tug, let a man hold a boob, something to give me some relief,” he said in a lowered voice.

  Jacquetta laughed.

  “Are you laughing at my pain?”

  “No. I understand, but I’m not ready for physical yet,” she told him.

  “In general or with me?” he asked.

  She leaned against the door jamb as she clenched and unclenched her fists. “I never told you the reason why Sebastian didn’t show up to the wedding,” she said to him as she shifted her position against the door jamb. She inhaled softly as she spoke to him, “A week before the wedding he decided to stay the night. I don’t know why he thought it would be a good idea to wake me up all sexy like...with his fingers, you know...”

  She wiped away a tear that ran down her cheek. “It’s my fault really. I should have told him what happened to me on day three of my kidnapping, but I had some new meds that helped me sleep all night. The night terrors were gone, or at least I thought they were until I woke up to the feeling of fingers inside me...”

  “What happened Jacquetta?” he asked her.

  She wrapped her arms around herself as she stepped inside the room. “I tried to kill him, Orlando, that’s what happened. By the time he snapped me out of it, I had nearly gouged out his eyes.” He sat motionless in the chair watching her.

  “I have found, that I do have feelings for you in that way but I am not ready, not just yet. I need a bit of time to get adjusted to all of this,” she told him.

  “Jacquetta I know, but I can’t help but want you. It has been a while for me, and I can train myself, create the discipline, but that is also going to take some time. I mean, I can’t...shit, I don’t know what to say right now,” he told her.

  “Hold on,” she said as she left the room. He could hear her rambling about in the closet in the other room. She came back with a pump bottle of body lotion, a hand towel and her iPod. The lotion and hand towel she gave to him, the iPod she strapped to her arm.

  Orlando knew better than to say anything as she unbuttoned her pajama top and tied the ends under her ribcage. The pajama bottoms she removed and stood before him in a pair of black undies. Her eyes never met his as she thumbed through the songs on the device, finally settling on the one she thought was perfect.

  Jacquetta turned her back to him and squatted down on the floor. One leg was extended as the music started. She began to flex her right butt cheek making it bounce to the rhythm of the music she had plugged into her ears. Slowly the left butt cheek joined the party as her butt cheeks moved one at a time.

  Orlando’s eyes were transfixed as he watched his wife move to music he could barely hear. She popped up on her feet to a standing position then back down to a squat. The firm, rounded butt cheeks still moving independently to an unheard beat. He watched, mesmerized as Jacquetta came to a standing position, bent over, grabbed her ankles, and her butt cheeks began to clap. Orlando almost forgot to breathe as he watched the private show she was putting on only for him.

  Her hands touched the floor as her body weight leaned on to bent elbows until she was in a handstand, her hips gyrating in the air.

  “Dayuuummm,” he yelled as his hand fumbled to find the lotion bottle. He pumped a handful of lotion into his fisted palm, as a bit of drool ran down the side of his lip. Her hips pulsated in the air for four or five good pumps, gyrating, pumping, gyrating, and pumping again before she straightened her legs into a mid-air split.

  His hand worked furiously as he watched his wife lower her body to the floor. Jacquetta was still in the splits as her ass cheeks bounced independently as she raised and lowered her butt while she bounced on the floor.

  “Shiiiiiiiiit,” he yelled out as he collapsed in the chair, spent.

  The song ended and Jacquetta slowly stood up from the floor, untied her pajama top and refastened the buttons. She said nothing to him as she pulled her pajama bottoms back on. “I’ll meet you in the middle,” she told him as she turned to make her way back to the bedroom.