Love Knows No Color Pt. 14

Miracle had settled into a schedule where she slept most of the night, and woke when she heard me getting ready for work in the wee hours of the morning. Often, I would let Shavonda sleep and fed the baby a bottle while sitting on the couch. When she was done, I'd gently lay her on her back in the crib, wrapped in her blanket like a bundle, before gently kissing my wife on the forehead and leaving for work.

This morning, Miracle awoke on her own about 5:30. Shavonda was starting to stir by that time, so I gently peeled myself away from her warm body and brought the baby to her. "Do you want me to feed her, or do you want to breast feed her?" I asked.

"I got this," my queen said. She sat up on the bed. Leaning back against the headboard, and fed the baby cradled in her arms against her breast. When we had the extension put on the house, we'd specified heavier insulation than called for, and our bedroom was the warmest room in the house. Even on a cold winter day, one could sit naked in the bed without feeling cold, and we often slept without covers. I watched Shavonda's motherly instincts proudly, glad that I was able to give her Miracle, and that her body had allowed her to carry the baby to full term.

It was now Christmas Eve, and we had a full day ahead of us, one that I hoped would become a tradition with the kids. As with the previous year, we'd decided to hold the family Christmas here. That way, we wouldn't have to uproot the kids from their new toys. In addition to Shavonda's parents and sister Shaunice, we expected Tamika and Brian to make an appearance as well as a few other family members. Most importantly, her younger brother Marcus is visiting from California with his family.

When the kids wake up, we dress them and make a quick run to the supermarket for supplies. Shavonda has prepared a list, and we load the cart with flour, sugar and other baking supplies. I wore Miracle in her sling, while Shavonda herded the kids. I couldn't help but notice the smiles on the faces of the older black women as they pass the young interracial family in the aisles. A few stop us and ask to see the baby. Miracle smiles back at them with her blue eyes. "She is so cute. You two must be so proud," one lady remarks. I smile. Yes, I am proud of my family. We represent everything that is good in this country. We are hardworking people, raising a mixed family with all the love we have. We celebrate our differences as we build on our common ground. The result is a strong love I never believed existed, the kind they sing of in the beautiful songs.

On our way through the store, we come across electric roasting pans on sale. I buy two of them, but I am not sure why. We'd only need one. Shavonda wanted to try one out on the turkey we were having for dinner Christmas day. I also got a big box of mashed potatoes. Shavonda has tried to get me to eat homemade but I actually prefer the ones in the box. I always have.

Returning home, we eat breakfast, then get started on the baking. We are soon up to our elbows in flour as the cookies cycle their way through the oven. The kids are busy licking the bowls when we are done with them.

Althea arrived around lunchtime, and we clear the kitchen table of the cooled cookies. We are by no means done yet, but she insists we stop for lunch. Shavonda fried up some hamburgers for the kids while I make a pot of mashed potatoes for us. I make bouillon cube gravy in a smaller pot. As we sit down to eat, Althea remarks how good the gravy is. "Grandma taught me how to make it," I said. "You should see what I can do with some beef drippings." My gravy has been thickened with flour to the consistency of pancake batter, and seasoned with a touch of salt. We wash it all down with ghetto Kool aid. I've always loved it ever since Shavonda introduced me to it when we first met. I'd have never thought of adding double the sugar to the Kool aid mix.

Soon it was back to work on the cookies, but not before I had desert. While we were making our cookies from scratch using the recipes Mom had given Shavonda last spring, I had slipped a roll of sugar cookie dough into the cart this morning. When Shavonda had tried to bake it, I told her not to touch it, it was mine. Raw cookie dough has always been one of my weak spots, and I'd bought the roll specifically to eat raw. Shavonda also tried some, and I think I hooked her on it.

She'd saved the best for last. Our final batches of cookies were chocolate peepers, a cake like chocolate cookie with a marshmallow center. We all had fun rolling the miniature marshmallows in cookie dough, then placing them on the greased cookie sheet. The very last batch was the most special of all. Scottish shortbread using the old family recipe handed down for generations. The one that came from Scotland itself when my ancestors immigrated a couple hundred years ago.

With the cookies done and cooling, it was now time for dinner. Shavonda had pulled several steaks out of the freezer to thaw earlier in the day, and we pan fried them. For good measure, we also scrambled the rest of the eggs leftover from baking the cookies. Shavonda and I never tired of steak and eggs, and Althea enjoyed them as well. "I see Jason's got you spoilt," she remarked. "Is that oregano I taste on the steak?"

"Yes, it is," I replied. "I learned it from my old neighbors, the Zuccheros. They always seasoned the steak for hoagies with oregano."

"Well, it's delicious." Althea replied. "Boy can cook, brings recipes for homemade cookies, plays music and can sing, works hard to support his family without complaint, and gives foot and back massages whenever you want them. Von, where'd you find this boy? You know how lucky you are? He even held your hand while you pushed out his baby. He's a one in a million."

After dinner, I quickly did the dishes while Althea and Shavonda prepared the turkey that had been thawing in the refrigerator, and set it in the roasting pan. It would slow cook for most of the night. The other guests were all supposed to bring something to supplement our food, so we had only bought one turkey. I wondered if it were going to be enough.

After dinner, I excused myself, telling the ladies I had to take care of something in the basement. Once down there, I worked on Ethan's present. I'd bought him a Thomas engine, but needed to install and program a decoder so that we could control it with our digital controllers. The process took me about an hour, and involved completely disassembling the engine and rewiring it so that all power went through the decoder. I programmed the engine and gave it a test run on the railroad. Thomas came with two coaches, Annie and Clarabel, and it was all he could do to get them to the top of the mountain at Spruce Bridge. But Ethan wasn't going to mind much that his engine couldn't pull a long train.

That evening after the kids were in bed, the baby started fussing. "Hold on," I told Shavonda. "Hold her off for a couple minutes before you feed her." I went to the old office, now storage room and wrestled Shavonda's present to the living room. Her jaw dropped when she saw the Amish rocking chair I'd bought her. "Merry Christmas," I said. "Now you have somewhere to soothe the baby while you feed her."

"Thank you, Jason," Shavonda said with tears in her eyes. "It's beautiful." She sat down on the cushions tied to the wooden chair, and rocked the baby as she fed her. Soon, Miracle was fast asleep, lulled by the rocking motion, and I took her from her mother and placed her in the crib. When I came back to the living room, Shavonda handed me a package. "Merry Christmas," she said. "You deserve this."

I opened the package. Inside was a box set containing the complete recordings of Bob Marley. While I'd always been a fan, his music had recently taken on special meaning for us when we realized that our musical setup of bass guitar and keyboards was ideal for playing reggae music. As such, we'd been selecting various Bob Marley songs and attempting to play them ourselves with some success. I ended up singing most of them, gaining a little more confidence in my voice. I still wasn't ready to do karaoke yet, but I did feel good singing Bob Marley in the privacy of my own basement.

I retrieved another present from under the Christmas tree. "Be careful," I said. "It's very fragile. Andre showed me how to make it, and this was my first attempt. I hope you like it." She opened the wide, flat box carefully, and slid out the contents. I had worked for a couple months on it, sneaking time in when Shavonda wasn't home. I hoped we could replace one of the window panes with the strained glass creation I had made for her. Our likenesses were rendered in stained glass, facing each other, from the shoulders up in a round border similar to a coin. Around the edge of the border were the words Shavonda and Jason forever. The words were encircled by another border, and the outer edges were clear glass cut to fit one of the window panes in the front door.

"Jason, it's beautiful," Shavonda exclaimed. "I'ma have to thank Andre for teaching you how to do this."

After we'd retrieved the childrens' presents from their hiding place in the basement, and arranged them under the tree, we once again slow danced naked, this time to Bob Marley.

Christmas morning, after the kids were done opening their presents, I took Ethan downstairs to the trains to try out his Thomas. He was thrilled beyond belief, and ran the wheels off the poor thing, running from one end of the line to the other. I even let him run on the extension, the one that would represent the railroad near my parents' farm. The extension Shavonda insisted I put in to represent the places that had become so special to us.

.

While I was downstairs playing trains with Ethan, the guests started arriving. Shavonda led her brother downstairs and introduced me to him and his wife, Tina. Marcus was about 5 years younger than Shavonda, with the same facial features and a goatee that made him look vaguely like Chester Cheetah. I am not saying that to be derogatory, as I have come to love the guy, but that was my first impression. His wife was a larger woman of caramel complexion, looking like a slightly older Tamika. She seemed friendly enough, but something felt off about Marcus.

After the ladies, had gone back up the steps, we talked. Marcus seemed to be tiptoeing around something, and finally he just came right out and said it. "Don't you dare hurt her, Jason. She's a special lady. You hurt her, I hurt you."

At that point, I lost it. I wasn't going to be threatened in my own house, for something I had no intention of doing in the first place. "Who the fuck does you think you are?" I said, my voice rising. "Nineteen months we've been together, not once have I hurt her. Nineteen months! During that time, I haven't even spoken to you, let alone met you. Where were you for our wedding? I held her hand while she gave birth, where were you? We've been through hell together, I held her when they trashed her new store, fought with my own family members over her honor. Where the fuck were you? Now you come into our house and threaten me?"

"It's Shavonda's house not yours," he said.

"The fuck, man?" I was yelling at him now. "I had my own house. I gave it up to come live with her. Both our families helped us enlarge it for the kids' sake. This is my home now, too. Nobody in your family has a problem with me but you! Don't even go there. I've proven myself over and over. You don't know me. You never bothered to talk to me to find out who I am and what I'm about! You need to get over yourself, dude!"

James, Althea and Shavonda rushed down the stairs to see what the commotion was about.

"Jason!" Althea yelled at me.

"Sorry," I said to Althea. "Your son just accused me of hurting your daughter."

"Marcus, why would you do that?" James was livid. "This man has earned the respect of this family. I will not stand by and have you pick a fight with him in his own home."

"His own home?" Marcus sputtered. "Last I checked this was Von's home."

"He's her husband, Marcus. He stood by her through all the bullshit of the past two years, and never once has he not been there for her. You can't come in here and threaten him like that. If those two ever split up, we'd lose both of them. They're a part of each other now. You hurt one, you hurt them both. And I will not stand by and have you acting a fool in their house. You may be family but you're still a guest. Remember that!" James gave Marcus a dressing down. For a minute, I actually thought James was going to kick Marcus's ass. But things were calming down.

Shavonda had come over to me, and stood behind me, her arms around my waist. I knew the symbolism was not lost on Marcus, who glared at his sister.

"Son you'd better go out on the porch," Althea scolded. "You can come in when you've cooled down." Marcus turned abruptly and stormed up the stairs. "Don't worry, he's not a bad kid. When he calms down, he'll be cool with you."

"I don't need this," I said sadly. "All I ever tried to do is love her the way she deserves to be loved."

"You're right, Jason. Marcus is wrong. Don't know why he decided to show his ass today. But we all got your back." James patted me on the shoulder. "You've earned the right to be in this family. I always dreamed that one day Shavonda would meet a man who loves her unconditionally." He chuckled. "I just never dreamed he'd be white. But love is love and what you two have most people never know. Don't let the bullshit get to ya."

We all trudged back up the stairs and assembled in the living room. Instinctively, I picked Miracle up from the baby carrier where she lay cooing, and put her in the sling lying beside the carrier, before strapping her to my body. I sat down in the rocking chair, looking at her face as she smiled up at me. Tina remarked, "He seems so comfortable with the baby."

"He is," Shavonda said softly. "He feeds her almost as much as I do, and I'm the one with tits. I just wish your husband understood what a gem I have in Jason."

"He will," Tina said. "Just give him a little space. I honestly don't think he thought Jason would stand up to him."

"Did you know Jason helped me throughout my pregnancy?" Shavonda explained. "He even gave me massages that helped prepare my body for the birth. They didn't have to cut me at all, and the doctor told me this week that I am healed enough to get on with my life." She grabbed her laptop from the end table and fired it up. She navigated to our web blog, and pulled up the slideshow I'd made of her pregnancy. Tina, Shaunice and Althea watched as the slides changed, showing week by week Shavonda's ever expanding body. The last slide showed mother and baby in the hospital bed.

"Jason took those?" Tina asked.

Yes," Shavonda replied. "He insisted that I pose every Sunday from the day we found out I was pregnant until Miracle came."

"Why'd you name her Miracle?" Tina asked.

"The doctors all told me I couldn't have babies after Tony attacked me." Shavonda shook her head sadly. "Then along comes Jason. He offers me the family I didn't think I'd ever have. That's Brittany and Ethan. We never thought I'd conceive, and we ignored the signs for the first couple months. Then I collapsed on our honeymoon and wound up in the hospital. That's how I found out I was pregnant. I was just barely starting to show. She a miracle baby, and Jason did everything he could to make sure she'd be healthy. Did you know he wouldn't let me pump gas or get my hair done for six months?"

"Now that's love. He don't mind your hair a mess?" Tina looked at me with respect.

"Actually, he prefers I wear it natural." Shavonda said. "Says he love the way it feel when he run his fingers through it."

"How'd you get so lucky?" Shaunice asked. "I spend a fortune getting my hair done and all I get is dogs."

"I dunno, just lucky I guess. He even took music back up because I loved to sing. Now we play a mean Bob Marley. But it get even better. Did you know that man helped me and Mama in the kitchen all day yesterday, making cookies? Most of them are made from recipes his mama gave me. And he even made us mashed potatoes and homemade gravy for lunch."

"Turkey's done!" Althea yelled from the kitchen, where she'd retreated to keep an eye on things. "Jason, come work your magic!"

Reluctantly, I unstrapped Miracle and handed her to Shavonda. In the kitchen, I spooned up the pan drippings from the turkey, added water and chicken bouillon cubes, and thickened the broth with a flour and water mixture, letting the pot simmer while I made a big pot of mashed potatoes from the box. When they were ready, I summoned the family, telling them, "It's time to eat. But save the turkey legs for Tamika."

Shavonda laughed. "Inside joke. Ask Meeka when she gets here."

The other members of the family had brought mac and cheese, stuffing, and a pumpkin pie. Althea and Shavonda had made pots of peas, corn and greens, and we even had cornbread just out of the oven. It was a feast fit for a king. And according to Shavonda, I was the king of this castle. I gladly filled my plate with mashed potatoes, and turkey, gravy over everything. Grabbing a couple of pieces of cornbread, I was on my way to the living room when I saw Marcus again.

"Sorry, man," was all he said. "Shoulda asked the family about you before I said what I did. They all say you treat her like a queen."

"She's my life, Marcus." I said. "I'd die without her. I can't lose her, ever. But if you'd have talked to your parents you'd already know that."

Just then the doorbell rang, and I set my plate on the coffee table and let Tamika and Brian in. "We saved the turkey legs for you," I said.

"Fuck you, Jason," Tamika laughed.

Turning to the rest of the family, I explained. "Brian works the Renaissance Festivals selling turkey legs. That's how Tamika met him. We set up a booth there and sell Von's jewelry at the fests, and Tamika kept buying us turkey legs so she'd have an excuse to see Brian. He finally got sick of looking at her googly eyes and asked her out. Now they're engaged."

After dinner, we all went downstairs to the game room, where Shavonda and I performed some songs for the family, I did my Smashing Pumpkins song Pug, plus I sang several Marley tunes. Shavonda for her part had selected a few of her favorite songs including the ones she had sang at the wedding. We had rearranged them a little for bass and keyboards, but they still worked. Of course, Shavonda had poured me some black cherry liquid courage, and there was something right about sipping cherry rum and Dr. Pepper between singing reggae tunes.

All too soon, people started to head for home, and we sat in front of the tv with the kids, half blitzed, eating cookies and watching Thomas videos until they fell asleep.

Another Christmas had come and gone, and I had to work in the morning, so we curled up in bed and fell asleep in each other's arms.

To be continued...