Love Knows No Color Pt. 25

"Yes, I do," Shavonda replied. "After last night, I can't be sure I will remember what we do tonight. I love you, Jason. I don't want a repeat of what happened this morning, ever. If I have to sign one of these every day, I will. I know you'd never knowingly hurt me." She lay back on the mattress, reclining with catlike grace. "I believe you have a massage to finish."

I resumed rubbing her with oil, starting at her feet and working my way up her legs. I was tempted to stop at her crotch, and finish my massage on her clit while lapping up her juices. But I continued upward, rubbing her belly as she thrust her hips up at me in frustration. I continued on to her breasts, rubbing oil into each luscious globe. A bead of milk seeped from one nipple. I looked at it, licking my lips, then at her.

"Yeah, you forgot one," Shavonda laughed. "Go ahead, it's full. You know you want to."

I kept my eyes locked on hers as I lowered my head to her breast, wrapping my lips around her succulent, chocolate nipple. I hungrily sucked her milk. How could a woman this beautiful taste so good? Her dark brown eyes sparkled in the light as she watched me enjoying her breast. I wished we had some candles rather than the dim motel lamps, because candlelight really brought out her eyes. The sparkle of her brown eyes contrasted nicely with the whites, which also contrasted with her dark skin. Those contrasts were mesmerizing to me. I was in love with those eyes since that first night.

I wish I could tell you I ravished her. That we made mad passionate love again that night. But the reality was that the massage had made her drowsy, and her warm sweet milk had the same effect on me. We both fell asleep, Shavonda on her side with her nipple in my mouth and holding my head in her hands. As usual, I found her embrace comforting. Even after the turmoil of that morning, I still felt safe in her arms.

The next morning, we packed our things and left for the Ren fest, my wench and I. We laughed about our little role play game the night before. Tamika took over the booth for a while to let us roam the festival. Instead, we found a bench and had a heart to heart talk. Shavonda told me her next doctor's appointment was on Wednesday, and asked if I'd come along. I told her I would, that no matter what I'd be there for her.

Arriving home that evening, we found Althea already there with our little dandelion headed baby girl. Miracle was excited to see us, and this time, when Althea set her down on the floor, she toddled to her mother. "Hey, baby," Shavonda cooed. "Oh, I missed you so much." Shavonda covered Miracle with kisses, much to her delight. Her laughter filled the house.

A little while later, Barbara brought Brittany and Ethan home from their weekend with their grandma. It occurred to me how lucky we were to have such a loving family. Barbara, being the ex-wife's mother, could have been a thorn in our side. Instead, she had become as much a part of my new family as I was. She and Althea were now good friends. Imagine that, both of my mothers in law enjoying each other's company. And neither of them picking with me about the things I did.

Don't get me wrong. As strong and loving as our marriage was, it wasn't without its conflicts. I tended to leave my clothes on the floor when I went to bed. Although Althea did much of the housework for us while she babysat, Shavonda still wanted to keep the house in order. It irked her to see clothes on the floor. We also had subtle but important differences in how the kids should be raised that occasionally resulted in conflict. But overall, we were remarkably compatible.

The week started off badly, and got progressively worse. Monday morning, I arrived at the job to find the loaders had loaded my truck in a way that made it impossible to adequately secure everything. Worse, the load contained rebar that couldn't be strapped down. I wound up waiting for the daylight crew to show up and reload the trailer before I could hit the road. This attracted the attention of people high up in the company, who would end up making my work life hell over the next couple of months. Even though I did nothing wrong, I was now under a microscope.

That night, I joined the ladies for their usual hen party/ card game. We all had fun. Patty's kids had come along, and they played with ours in the backyard. Miracle stood in her playpen, which we'd moved into the kitchen where the game was. She cooed and shook the playpen rail, seeking attention and generally doing cute toddler things until I finally left the card game and paid her some attention.

Tuesday, upon inspecting my truck I discovered a crack in the frame that immediately put it out of service. So, I was once again delayed while I switched out the tractor for the spare. My run was extra heavy that day, with eleven stops spread out from Tidioute to DuBois and Butler. I did the best I could, but had to bypass two stopped for lack of time.

Wednesday I called off. Shavonda had a doctor's appointment, and I wanted to be there to see what they were going to say about the interaction of her prescriptions. The psychologist seemed a little perturbed about my presence, and tried to tell me I couldn't sit in on the session until Shavonda insisted she'd walk if I couldn't be there. He relented, and the fun began. Shavonda explained about her memory lapse over the weekend, and the other ways the medications were affecting her, and insisted he call in the psychiatrist. The psychologist couldn't prescribe pills, so the psychiatrist was the one who could change her medications.

When the psychiatrist arrived, the sparks began to fly. We explained about the interaction of the medications, and that Shavonda had stopped taking the klonopins. She was fine now. But his reaction was unexpectedly explosive. "NO!" he said. "You can't stop taking those! I was afraid something like this would happen. Let me give you something for the side effects."

"Let me get this straight," Shavonda rolled her eyes in anger. "You knew this could happen? And now you want to give me another pill to cancel the side effects? What about the side effect of THAT pill? How many pills will I have to take, that all cancel each other out?" The doctors looked stunned by her reaction.

I had to say something. "Are you a doctor or a pill salesman? If it ain't working for her, why not try something else instead of doubling down on the pill that doesn't work?"

The psychiatrist's reaction was swift and Vehement. "How DARE you question my decision? Did you go to med school?"

"Do YOU know who you're dealing with?" Shavonda spat, her anger rising. "I own a business. Seven people rely on me for their livelihood! I can't have memory lapses, period! There's too much at stake. You gave me bad advice, and pills that jeopardize all I've worked for. I can't trust you now." She turned to the psychologist. "Look, can you get me set up with another doctor? This one's a quack!"

I watched as the psychiatrist's face turned red. He started to say something but Shavonda cut him off. "C'mon Jason," she said sarcastically. "We've got an appointment with my lawyer." She turned to leave, then stopped in the doorway. "Jason! You coming or what?" I picked my jaw up off the floor and followed the queen.

Once in the car, I asked, "Do we really have an appointment?"

"Yes, we do," Shavonda laughed. "It has nothing to do with them, but they don't know that." She wouldn't tell me anything else, no matter how hard I pushed her. "You'll just have to wait and see," she said.

Arriving at the lawyer's office, Shavonda was handed a sheet of paper to look over. "Read it, and let me know if you need changes made," the lawyer said. She read it over, then passed it to me. I read the paper in disbelief. Shavonda was giving me power of attorney in the event she became incapacitated. I had been going crazy with apprehension, wondering what was up. My mind had run wild with possibilities, including the fear that she was having divorce papers drawn up. Honestly, I had been sick with worry. But I had never expected this. Rather filing for divorce, Shavonda was giving me conditional control of her empire.

Had I thought about it, I wouldn't have worried about her divorcing me. We were too close to each other, too wrapped up in each other, to ever divorce. Sometimes, though, paranoia gets the better of you. I breathed an audible sigh of relief. Shavonda smiled at me as I handed her the paper. "Are you sure?" I asked.

"More than anything else," Shavonda replied. "You are my world. That incident we had last weekend really scared me, and I wanted to make sure that you wouldn't be shut out should something bad happen to me. Besides, I trust you to look after my interests if I can't."

We signed the papers, and the lawyer witnessed it. His clerk, who was a notary, put her seal on it, and it was done. Shavonda called Velma, Tamika and Nykole, the three employees who were trained to manage the two stores, and told them to meet us at the Carson Street store. Tamika was already there, so Shavonda had her order pizza for us.

When we arrived, Velma was already there, as was the pizza. Nykole arrived a few minutes later. She seemed a little perturbed. We'd called her in on her off day. Shavonda ushered us all into the back room.

"I guess you're all wondering why I called you here," she started. "Tamika, you were there so you know what happened Saturday. But for the rest of you, I had a bad reaction to medication, and I suffered short term memory loss. Luckily, we figured out what was happening, and discontinued that medication. But just in case it happens again, I have given Jason power of attorney. He can only invoke it if I become physically or mentally unable to do my job. Under those conditions, he will run the stores until I am well enough to take back control. If this happens, you are to give him your full cooperation. Any Questions?"

"I have one," Velma said. "What makes you think Jason is better able than us to run things? I mean, I've been with you since you started. Jason has been around what? Maybe two years tops? What makes him qualified to run this place?"

Shavonda was about to answer. I could see the fire in her eyes, the indignation at having her action questioned. I quickly responded before she could lose her temper. "Velma, I appreciate your concern. I can assure you that I will be merely overseeing things. The stores' day to day control will still be in your hands. I am going to need all of you to keep things running. That said, my first priority will be Von's well-being. Her health is far more important than the business. So, if there is a conflict between the two, I will do what helps her the most. I expect y'all to cooperate, and I won't hesitate to fire anybody who I feel hurts my queen. Pretty much, should I need to take over, just keep doing what you normally do, and keep me in the loop and you should be fine. I don't want to have to crack the whip. Y'all have done a good job building this place up. Keep up the good work."

But Velma was not satisfied. "Jason, what do you know about running a business? You're barely here. You work a full-time job."

I looked at Shavonda. She was doing a slow burn, but she held her tongue. I continued, "I've been helping Von behind the scenes for a while now. She's been teaching me the administrative functions, the paperwork and recordkeeping stuff. I've been trying to lessen her workload, so she can get back to doing what she loves. And, seriously, that's where you come in. Velma and everybody else, like I said before we need all of you. Y'all keep things running around here. If it comes to that, I'll stay in the background until I need to act. But the final decisions around here will be mine if Von can't make them."

Shavonda had finally had enough, "Aunt Velma, it seems like you have a decision to make. Either we are all on the same team, pulling together, or one of us has to leave. And it ain't going to be me. I run this shit! Not you, me! And if I can't run things, my husband will run them for me until I am better. That's my decision. Not yours. We need you on our team. But if you can't back me and Jason 100, feel free to hit the bricks. The decision is yours. It'll be harder, but we'll manage without you. I'm trying to get my stress levels down, and you're pushing them through the roof. I can't deal with this, and I won't. I have two other women who can run the stores. We'll be shorthanded for a bit, but we'll be fine."

Velma tried to say something but Shavonda cut her off. "I'm not finished! You been causing me grief ever since I hired Kenny. I'm sick of it! Fed up! I had to move him down here to keep you two apart. I shouldn't have to so any of this! You're 60 years old! Act like it! Get with the program or get out! I never had to fire anybody, and I don't want to. But I will if you keep giving me trouble. Swear to God I will! I'm done." She looked around at the stunned group gathered in the back room. "Anybody else have any questions?" Nobody moved. "Nykole, if Velma decides to leave, you'll take over Ellsworth, because you live closer to it. Tamika, Carson is your store. I'll work Ellsworth with you, Nykole, until I can get you up to speed. Now, the pizza's getting cold. Help yourself."

I found myself strangely turned on. I loved watching my queen being assertive. Knowing that she could kick ass when she needed to. Yep, I'd married a wild one. And I loved her for it.

We had a few slices with the employees, including Kenny, who'd been working the register in the front the whole time. I know he had to have heard everything, but he said nothing. Velma was subdued. She wouldn't look at anybody in the room, and grabbed a couple of slices of pizza before quickly heading out the door.

I felt bad for Velma in a way. She'd been there since the beginning, helping to build the business. It had been a long hard slog, and it took years to build momentum. The business really started taking off only a year or so before I met Shavonda. Eleven years in the business, starting at flea markets and building things up from there. And only the last three truly prosperous. Now, she was being pushed aside for an outsider. But Velma had brought that on herself. She'd questioned the queen's leadership, challenged her decision making.

Shavonda had made the decision to give me power of attorney because she'd come to question Velma's loyalty and motives. She wanted to keep Velma on. Really, she did. Velma was family. But we couldn't have her sowing dissension in our ranks. We had good employees. We were very lucky in that sense. Everybody had worked out well. They were loyal and productive, and Shavonda wanted to keep them that way. I hoped Velma got the message loud and clear. I'd miss her if she were gone.

On the ride home, Shavonda and I discussed the business. It was time to look for a couple more employees. Shavonda would see if Ebony wanted to train for management. We'd need somebody to run one of the stores on the weekend if Velma left and Nykole was promoted. Plus, Kenny was still looking for work in his field. I knew when he found it he would leave us. We simply couldn't afford to match what he'd make as a surveyor. That meant we needed two employees now. And with Shavonda still working toward opening a third store, we'd need another three to staff it when the time came.

Thursday turned out to be even worse than the other days. The remnants of a hurricane were sweeping through. We lived far enough north that by the time they reached us, most of the hurricanes had dissipated. But they could still dump heavy rain on us, and this day was no exception. Blowing in off the Atlantic, the storm was merely a drizzle in Pittsburgh, but got heavier the further east I went.

Added to this, my regular truck had been pulled from service for the cracked frame, and I got the spare instead, a balled up old Kenworth with 300k miles on it. The brake pedal was sticking. I tried to get on the road, but soon had to stop because the trailer brakes wouldn't fully release. They had to call a mechanic to come out and rebuild the brake pedal before I could continue. Three hours lost on a day where I was hard pressed to get done in under 14 hours.

I did the best I could, doing as many of my stops as I could. I made it as far as Spring Mills, just east of State College before I had to turn back. That far east, the rain had turned to a steady downpour, and the creeks were running their banks. I was 11 hours on duty and still had 4 hours to get home.

I made it in off the road in just under 16 hours, running on fumes. Although we were only allowed 14 hours on duty, once a week we were permitted to run 16 if needed. And I needed to that day. It was so close I had to pass up refueling at the truck stop in order to make it in on time. I drove home, arriving after 9 pm, kissed my queen and collapsed in the bed without dinner. Later, after she'd put the kids to bed, I felt Shavonda crawl into bed with me, her naked breasts pressed up against my back. But I was too tired to do anything but let her hold me as I slept.

My late return had meant getting a late start on Friday. Coming off the road at 8:30 pm and mandated ten hours of rest meant I couldn't start until 6:30am. Problem was, I was supposed to be at my first stop, twenty miles away in rush hour traffic, by 7. To make matters worse, the big bosses were in town, and I caught hell for still being in the yard securing my load at 7:15. I told them what had happened the night before, and asked them what I should have done. They offered no solutions, only criticism. God this was getting old. Shavonda's suggestion that I quit and go back to engineering school was looking really good about now.

I finally was able to get on my way, and that's when the whole day went to hell. Negotiating the maze of freeway ramps on Pittsburgh's North Side, I was startled to see a homeless man dart out on heavy traffic. We were all moving about 40 mph, and the car in front of me stopped dead to avoid hitting the man. I did my best to get stopped, but I was too heavy, and hit the car hard. Seven years, I'd driven truck without even a scratch. Now my perfect record had come to an end.

Events got really bizarre here. I hopped out of the truck to see if everybody was all right. A young black couple was climbing out of the car. I noticed how much the cute chubby woman resembled Tamika. "Make sure he doesn't leave," I told them, pointing to the homeless white man, and returned to the truck to grab the camera the company provided for accidents. When I returned the couple was gone. The homeless man was still there, talking to a tow truck driver who'd stopped. Evidently, they knew each other. They pointed out where the couple had gone but I wasn't about to give chase.

When the police arrived, they ran the car's plate. Turns out it had been stolen from Penn Hills, not far from where we lived. I took photos of the accident scene, called my boss Nick, and gave a statement to police. While I was on the phone with our emergency desk, trying to explain what had just happened, the big boss arrived. He was not pleased, but the police explained to him what had happened. Luckily, though the car was undrivable our truck came through with a minor dent in the radiator grill and bumper.

To make a long story short, I had to take the truck back to Leetsdale, and go to the doctor's office for a drug screen before I could finally hit the road again. Finally, at 12:30 pm I made my first stop, only 5 ½ hours late. I managed to get through about half of my run before places started closing. If there was one good thing, the evening rush hour had died down by the time I got back to the yard. I'd called Shavonda to tell her about the accident, and was surprised to find her, Althea, and the kids waiting for me.