Love Knows No Color Pt. 20

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Shavonda's class reunion, Juneteenth, a death in the family.
16.8k words
4.85
12.8k
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Part 20 of the 30 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 11/10/2016
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bwwm4me
bwwm4me
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After Brittany's birthday party things happened fast. Almost every weekend there was something planned and we couldn't get away to the mountains.

Monday, we received a thin book sized envelope in the mail. It was from Scott, our friend who ran the zigzag trains. Shavonda looked over my shoulder as I read the enclosed letter.

"Dear Shavonda and Jason,

Thank you for the photos you sent. They were beautiful. Even though I travel that line every day, I never realized how beautiful it was until I saw those photos. I never realized what we looked like travelling those mountains. I showed my son what my engine looked like. He thinks I have the same one every day. But I get different ones all the time. Even though the zigzags run every day, sometimes there are more than one out there at a given time. And due to the need for refueling and inspections on the various locomotives, the consists are regularly broken up and locomotives swapped out.

I have enclosed some items that may be of interest to you. I hope they help you out on your next trip down my way.

Hope to see you trackside in the near future,

Scott"

Inside the envelope were a laminated card showing the various combinations of colored lights used on the signals, and what the aspects signified. The second was a current copy of the employee timetable. Timetable was a bit misleading, as none of the trains ran on specific schedules, though many ran at roughly the same times every day. The timetable was a sort of localized rule book, with maps and other information about the routes covered in the book. There were diagrams showing the layout of the tracks at every important point on the line, and rules pertaining to specific points on the line, such as permanent speed restrictions due to curves. But it was the third and final item that really piqued my interest. That was the official track chart, from the engineering department. As a former civil engineering student, I found it fascinating as it documented the location of every curve along with its sharpness, the gradient of the line at each point, and even the locations of things such as culverts, overpasses and even power lines, all correlated to the mileposts down to 1/100th of a mile.

I quickly fired off a response thanking him for these items, and telling him of our plans to take a week's vacation and hike the line over the mountain as much as we could.

Also that Monday, the screen printing supplies and dryer were delivered and set up in the garage. Shavonda had decided a couple months back to try her hand at printed t shirts. She'd done a little screen printing during her college days, and I had been an actual printer. I promised to help her out on this new venture.

One of her ideas was to try printing on our blank pendant stock. Her idea was that we could do more intricate designs in less time than the traditional method of cutting and fitting the individual pieces of stone into a 3-inch circle. She'd had a piece of white quartzite turned down on a lathe to 3-inch diameter, and on Tuesday night after work, I used the rock saw to slice it into blanks. I also measured and cut a piece of plywood to fit beneath the smallest screen frames, with a 3-inch hole drilled in the center. That way, we count control precisely the position of the blanks as they were being printed. Shavonda worked on some designs on the computer as I did so.

During the week, she had sent out one of the designs for screens to be made. We didn't have that capability in house just yet. The design she had come up with was elegantly simple. The words 'Gone But Not Forgotten' were arranged in a circle, with a drawing or design centered in the circle. What went inside the circle could be changed to suit the job. Since the words were separate from the design itself, they didn't even have to be the same color.

Friday evening, I screen printed the first one, the prototype. The design inserted was a line drawing of a steam locomotive from the front. For this prototype, we did the whole thing as one screen for a single-color print. After running the printed blank through the dryer, we took it outside and brushed it with a polyurethane coating to seal the ink, then ran it through the dryer again.

Shavonda had also had the same design scaled up to 12 inches in diameter, and had another screen made. This one we printed on a white t shirt.

The printing process was a success. We were in business.

Shavonda's class reunion was the second weekend in June. She'd gotten her hair done a couple of days before, and went with loose curls this time. We walked in the door hand in hand, Shavonda wearing her red halter dress and a pair of matching heels. I had worn my black dress pants, a red button down shirt, and a black tie. The lady at the sign in desk did a double take when she saw us.

"Shavonda Jenkins? Who's your friend?"

"That's my husband Jefferson Waite. We just call him Jason for short."

I extended my hand. "Pleased to meet you," I drawled.

"If that don't beat all. Von's got herself a redneck." The lady chuckled.

"No, ma'am," I said. "I may be a hillbilly but I ain't no redneck." I gave her a sweet smile. As we walked away to find a table, I asked Shavonda, "What was that all about?"

"When I was in high school, I used to make fun of rednecks. The joke was I'd probably marry one," Shavonda laughed.

We spent most of the evening with Shavonda's old friends Ashley and Quala. Ashley was a redheaded white lady with green eyes, with a pleasingly plump build. Quala was a tall heavyset lady with a caramel complexion. Amazonian would be the word I'd use to describe her. Evidently the three of them and Edie and Patty had their own clique back in the day.

"You still making those necklaces?" Quala asked.

"Sure am. I even have my own stores to sell them," Shavonda proudly boasted. Reaching in her purse, she gave her friends her business card.

"Remember how everybody wanted you to make jewelry for them back in high school?" Ashley said. "You made quite a bit of money off them. Who'd have guessed you'd turn that into a thriving business?"

Ashley, it turned out, was still living in Pennsylvania near Mercer. Quala had moved to Texas in search of work. Both were fortunate enough to have graduated college, Ashley as a marketing major, and Quala had a degree in chemistry.

"Do you still see Edie?" Ashley asked.

"Edie is engaged to Jason's cousin. We see them all the time."

"Do you have any more single cousins?" Quala asked me, laughing.

"Yes, but he's in Colorado."

The conversation turned towards interracial dating. "I'd have never guessed you'd have ended up with a white man from the south," Ashley said. "You used to rip on rednecks." That was the second person to say that tonight. I looked at Shavonda, confused.

"Jason doesn't know about that. I forgot I used to do that," Shavonda replied. Turning to me, she explained, "You have to remember, my family was in the middle of the civil rights struggle. We'd lost family members in Birmingham. I was old enough to hear the stories Grandpa told, and I was mad that they treated us that way."

"What made you change your mind?" I asked.

"Grandpa told me that they did it out of hatred, and if I hated I was no better than they were. Plus, it would eat me alive. He told me he'd forgiven them, and if he could do it I could too. Then I went to college and found out that most folks were good people. And that I should judge people by what was in their heart, not what they looked like or where they came from."

"So you'd have teased me back in high school?" I pointedly asked.

"No, Jason," Shavonda said. "You would have treated me with respect. We would have been friends, same as now. We might not have dated, but we would have hung out together. You were just as much of a misfit as I was."

"He was a nerd?" Quala asked, "Fine as he is? How was he a misfit?"

"Jason spent most of his time in the forest, he's fascinated by rocks and nature. He enjoys bird watching with me, and he's made me love trains. We complement each other."

I had a question for Ashley: "You hung around with the black girls. Did you catch hell for that?"

"Not really. But the guys on the football and basketball teams were always asking me out," she replied. "No matter how many times I turned them down."

"I take it you wouldn't date a black guy?"

"Yes and no. I would go out with somebody I respected, regardless of race. I still do. But the guys on the teams were way too immature for me. One date and the rumors would spread about how good I was in bed, never mind that I'd never even kissed my date. I didn't have time for the bullshit. So I went for the guys who truly appreciated my company and tried to cultivate my friendship."

"Like Jason did with me," Shavonda said. "We chatted and talked for months before we ever met. My friend became my lover then my husband."

The ladies, with Quala as ringleader, decided to tease me about my background. "Jason," she said, "What number comes after three?"

"Fur," I said. They laughed.

"Have you ever gone to a bluegrass concert?"

"Actually," Shavonda said, "He plays it with his cousins. And I sing along with them."

"Yeah, Von," Quala said. "He's got you corrupted." They laughed.

"Last question." Quala smiled at me sweetly. "Have you ever used the phrase 'purt near' in casual conversation?"

"How would you know about that?" I asked indignantly.

"Redneck!" The three ladies said it in unison.

"My turn now," I said. "Quala, would you ever marry a man named Bob White?"

"Good one, Jason!" Shavonda laughed.

"I don't get it," Quala looked confused.

"A bobwhite is a quail, a bird," Shavonda explained. "Jason, do you have bobwhites on the farm?"

"Wait a minute," Ashley said, "He lived on a farm?"

"Yes, I did," I replied. "And Von, I think we do have bobwhites. I know we have whippoorwills. If we have bobwhites, you'd hear them right around dusk."

"Shoulda known you'd still be into birds," Quala laughed. "Jason, one more question. Have you ever drank moonshine?"

Shavonda answered for me. "His family doesn't drink. He does, but not in front of them. Every time we go down there, it's alcohol free. And they funny as hell, too. I love visiting them."

I'd brought my camera along, and was taking candid photos the whole time. When I noticed the ear to ear grin on Shavonda's face when she told how we met, I had to get the photo. Her eyes sparkled brightly, and her smile was white teeth from ear to ear. I'd often told her how beautiful she was when she smiled, now I could show her. Later, I had that photo blown up and it hangs on the living room wall. Her smile is the first thing I see every day when I walk in the front door.

Arriving home in the wee hours of the morning, I felt the need to take a quick shower. I asked Shavonda to join me, but she refused. Disappointed, I showered alone.

Leaving the bathroom via the direct door to the bedroom, I was surprised to see the room lit with candles. Shavonda stood by the bed in the red halter dress. "Jason," she called softly. Reaching behind her neck, she undid the bow on the halter straps and let the dress fall to the floor. She was naked except for those red heels.

Our eyes met and locked. Shavonda's were filled with pure lust, and I stood there mesmerized. She quickly took a few steps forward, standing directly in front of me. Never taking my eyes off hers, I stepped forward. AS I did so, she stepped backwards until she was at the bed. I watched in a trance as she slid herself back onto the bed, eyes still locked on mine, lips slightly parted seductively. I stepped forward, joining her on the bed. Words were not spoken. They were not needed. Still gazing deep into her eyes, I slid on top of her until I felt the head of my penis touch her pubic hairs. I slid my body down until the head was poised between her vaginal lips, then thrust inside her. I felt her opening stretch around me as I entered her warmth.

She met my thrust as I pushed into her, wrapping her legs around me to force me deeper inside her body, whimpering softly as I stretched her out. When we made love in this position I loved to watch her dark chocolate breasts bounce as our bodies collided. But this time was different. I couldn't pull my eyes from hers as I worked my hips between her thighs, her legs linked behind my ass. We started slowly, getting used to the other's body. Shavonda's pussy gently squeezed me as I slowly thrust into me depths with long smooth strokes.

Gradually, we picked up the tempo, as our lust took over completely, and Shavonda's whimpers had turned to increasingly louder moans. She was close, and I wasn't far behind. My thrusts became harder as I felt her muscles begin to contract as her orgasm began. I was close myself, and pounded into her even harder as she milked me, seeking what I was not yet ready to give her. Her nails scratched my back as I drove into her, still caught in her eyes.

I rode her through that first orgasm, and continued to savagely pound her seeking release. I was so close, yet I couldn't seem to make it over the edge. Normally, I would have had to back off a couple of times by this point, prolonging both our pleasure in a much gentler, loving rhythm. Not tonight. We were animalistic, operating on instinct alone, not really aware of anything but each other's eyes. Shavonda's moans had grown deeper as she approached her second orgasm. Her hands desperately clawed my back and her legs wrapped tightly around me as she came with a primal growl. Her insides violently clenched at my pounding manhood as I desperately pumped into her. Finally, my body could take no more, and I shuddered uncontrollably as I let my seed loose inside her. I had made love to this woman probably 4-500 times over the past two years, and I'd never come this hard before. Not with her. Not with anybody.

Somehow, I managed to keep myself raised on my arms as my entire body turned to jelly, wracked by uncontrollable spasms. Shavonda's body trembled against mine, quivering as her pussy convulsed around me. And still, our eyes were locked. I stared deep into her soul, breathless and in awe. She blinked a couple times, and the hold was broken. "What just happened?" I panted.

"I don't know," Shavonda answered. "I had intended to have you rub me down with baby oil before we made love. But once I gazed into your eyes, I was caught. I had no control, I had to have you inside me. I never felt anything like it. It was incredible. Jason, you're still hard." Her pussy muscles gently squeezed my penis, greedily seeking the fluids I had already given her.

I leaned in and kissed her. Our tongues danced passionately as she pulled me closer with her arms. I was slowly becoming aware of my shredded back. Shavonda had never done that before, and I knew I was going to pay dearly in the morning. But right now, I was exhausted. I rolled off my beautiful lover, murmuring, "I love you so much."

"I love you more," Shavonda replied. I gazed at the woman who'd captured me completely, her beautiful naked body reclined beside me. How did I ever get this lucky? Exhausted as I was, I grabbed the bottle of coconut oil off the nightstand and began to rub her down. She purred her approval as I worked the oil into her soft brown skin, glistening in the candlelight. When I was done, she returned the favor, taking extra care on my scratched up back. "Damn! Did I do that?" Shavonda exclaimed. "Boy. Why didn't you say something?"

"I couldn't," I replied. "You had a hold on me. I don't know what just happened, but we were feral. We brought out the animal in each other."

Shavonda continued to gently massage my body, and I don't remember her finishing. I was fast asleep.

I was awoken in the morning by the smell of breakfast cooking. As I entered the kitchen, Shavonda placed a plate in front of me, with a thick juicy steak, and a mountain of scrambled eggs. Another plate held a stack of pancakes drenched in maple syrup. Shavonda flashed that beautiful smile as I dug in.

"Happy Father's Day," she said. "I was just going to wake you. Mama and Daddy are bringing the kids home soon so we'll have to get dressed."

When they arrived, the kids were excited to see us. Althea handed a smiling Miracle to me. Although she was teething, she hadn't seemed to be in a lot of pain. As long as we gave her something to chew on, she was generally fine. But we had a teething ointment to spread on her gums if she was in too much pain. Already, her two front teeth had broken through.

We spent the day in the backyard, having a cookout in James' honor. Since he'd been a surrogate father to her after Ty's murder, Edie helped us celebrate, bringing her mother and Kenny with her. Shaunice was there as well, and though things between her and Edie were still not right, they respectfully tolerated each other.

Later, the four of us who were Swirl disappeared into the game room. Shavonda wanted to work out another song. Shavonda wanted to sing Beyoncé's Daddy for her father. It was a relatively simple song, and we soon had a passable version. We called the family downstairs, and started the song.

I remember, when you used to take me

On a bike ride every day, on the bayou

(Remember that? We were inseparable)

And I remember when you could do no wrong

You come home from work and I jump in your arms when I saw you

(I was so excited)

I was so happy to see you, ooh

(So happy to see you)

Because you loved me, I overcome, yeah

And I'm so proud of what you've become, yeah

You've given me such security

No matter what mistakes I make, you're there for me

You cure my disappointments

And you heal my pain

You understood my biz and you protected me

I treasure every year in place a comemory

And that's why, I want my unborn son

To be like, my daddy

I want my husband to be like, my daddy

There is no one else like, my daddy

And I thank you for lovin' me

James had tears in his eyes as Shavonda sang. We followed the song with Strawberry Letter 23, which he'd suggested we learn a few weeks back, and ended the set with what had become Shavonda's signature song, Save Me by Nikki Minaj.

Afterward, James thanked us. "I think that was the best Father's Day gift I ever had. It came from the heart."

That week, Shavonda prepared for the Juneteenth festival, which left her pretty busy in the evenings. I took care of the kids, keeping them out of her hair as she printed t shirts for the celebration. She's come up with two designs promoting black pride, but had them printed in a single color. Rushing to get them done in less than a week's time, it was not the time to master the intricacies of multi-color printing.

Monday night, I got a phone call from my Mom. Grandma Duncan was in the hospital with some sort of infection. The doctors were treating her with antibiotics but they weren't sure exactly what it was. I told Shavonda, and we kept her in our prayers.

The rest of the week went in a blur. Friday, we got another phone call, one that would change my life. "Jason," Mom said sadly. "Your Grandma died this morning. Whatever she had, the antibiotics didn't work. There was nothing they could do to save her." I could hear her almost in tears. "The funeral is going to be on Thursday, in New Castle. I know they ostracized you and Von, but you should be there to say goodbye."

I told Shavonda, and she asked me if I had a picture. I showed her the photo I had on my laptop of Grandma Duncan with me, Mom and Brittany from Brittany's baptism seven years ago. "She looks like she was a loving woman," Shavonda said.

"She was," I replied. "That's why it hurt when they chose not to come to the wedding. She was never like that to me before. Whenever we'd visit, she always had a cake for us. And when she visited us, she'd bring a cake too."

bwwm4me
bwwm4me
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