Vision Ch. 07

"And now on top of everything it looks like we are indeed family. That brother of yours has got it coming when I finally meet him by the way."

I chuckle at that. It's a good thing he's in intelligence. He might need it to deal with her. Oh well.

"Just means that we probably would have met sooner or later anyway."

She groans looking uneasy. "Don't start with that divine providence nonsense you like to talk."

"Relax Lou. Being at home too long makes you a little antsy I think. They're just all getting a kick out of seeing you happy."

She frowns "They've seen me happy plenty."

"Eddie says she's not seen you like this since before your parents passed."

"And that's another thing, what's with all the chit chat? Matt, Uncle Jack, Lenny, well Lenny has a big mouth anyway so . . . and now Eddie. What the fuck man?"

She's starting to look perturbed. Quickly grabbing her by the ankles I pull her down the couch and under me.

"I should spank you."

"You're always threatening to spank me, what's up with that?"

"You have a spankable bottom Lulu-butt." She gasps but starts to smile as I palm her butt. "Besides, you need the discipline."

"Oh really, and who's gonna do it, you?" She bites my lip and smiles mischievously before wrapping her legs around me and flipping us onto the floor where she lands on top of me with a giggle.

-

Our trip to NYC is here before we know it. We've compromised and agreed to fly up and take the train home. I've noticed that Lou is a very light packer, preferring to pick up whatever she needs along the way, and ship it home rather than schlep bags all over. Following her lead, I pack a suit, my shaving kit and a couple pair of jeans, t-shirts and boxers. She packs even less: A pair of jeans, one t-shirt and 2 pairs of undies, toothbrush, deodorant & soap.

Everything fits in her messenger bag. I look at her doubtfully.

She shrugs. "There's nothing I can't get there." In a leather motorcycle jacket over jeans and a T-shirt, aviator sunglasses perched just so above lightly glossed lips she looks a little like a rock star and gets plenty of stares at the Richmond International Airport, to which she seems completely oblivious.

A tall broad-shouldered man approaches and taps her on the shoulder. And just where are you sneaking off to this time, little girl?

Smiling she turns and removes her shades and hugs him hard. "Uncle Eugie! How you doin'? I missed you. Where have you been?"

"Laid up with this back of mine."

"That's too bad because you missed a good time at the civic ball. I wore a dress this year."

"I liked you in that Tux, dancing like James Brown. I'll never forget it."

"You and Uncle Jack both, he's still on about that you know and it's been a few years now." She laughs and turns to me tugging my arm to her. Uncle Eugie's brows rise a bit but he smiles.

"Eugie takes care of me when I fly in and out. I was being hassled one night after a particularly long flight in and he handled it."

"I keep telling you, taser or not, you are entirely too pretty to be flying all over the world, all by yourself all the time. But I see you found a bodyguard." He reaches out to shake, and his hand engulfs mine, which is pretty large.

"I'm glad she found you."

"I am too."

"How do you know he didn't pick me up?"

"Please, I know you. Mean enough to scare alligators." He laughs at her. "I got the package you sent. Thank you for sending it in separately addressed boxes. Sandra got her vanilla and spices and coconut oil and I was able to stash my cigars and Aquavit without her trying to confiscate it. Woman's worse than TSA!"

They laugh.

"Don't you know she ran out of Crisco and got desperate and fried chicken using that oil, now she's onto something with that there. Speaking of fried chicken, when is the next Bid Whist Fish-Fry?

"You missed the one Lenny threw the other month. But for you I might try again. How about in a few weeks? Give me time to get back and get settled a little."

"You settle down? Never! Not happy unless you're going 500 miles per hour with your hair on fire!" He shakes his head at her.

"You're one to talk the way you dance."

He does a quick little soft-shoe tap and slides across the floor and she responds in kind and they laugh again. It's an interesting exchange. He's very light-footed for one so large.

"How's that no account Jack doing anyways, he retired yet?"

"Nah, he's still out there chasing people down. Arlene is closing in on getting him to settle down though - she's gaining ground every day. He is going to drive her crazy when he finally does retire. They're calling our flight we gotta go, give my love to Sandra and I'll be sure to try to get her some more coconut oil, I'm curious about that chicken."

She hugs him again.

"I'll see you when you get back." He waves us off.

"Another Uncle?"

"Almost, he was one of my dance teachers once upon a time. Car accident and then not so much with the dancing. He got a pretty raw deal with that and now he's working when he should be edging towards retirement, but he's a soldier. I've never heard him be bitter or complain."

"He's a pretty big guy."

"He is that, but he danced at the Alvin Ailey dance company. The pictures of him back in the day are amazing. Powerful and graceful. He taught me and Harry. Tried to teach Lenny and Lili, but they didn't take to it. Harry did it just to be able to throw me around and not get in trouble."

"What was that about a taser?"

"I had a taser phone cover on my cell phone to deal with undesirables. I decided to remove it after accidentally tasing myself. Don't ask."

--

Forty-five minutes later we land in LaGuardia. The wind turbulence just over the water is so bad that by the time we touch down safely the cabin breaks into applause. I sag with relief, all too glad that we'll be taking the train home.

Lou flashes me a smile. "Welcome." She immediately stands and grabs our things from the overhead compartment and steps into the aisle, swiftly pulling me to stand behind her. I see everyone else doing the same.

"Keep up old man. New York is about speed."

I'll say. We're third in line to deplane. We quickly walk down the corridor to enter the terminal and in no time we're outside again at the cab stand. 10 minutes later and we're in a cab. "23rd and Park."

We check in and decide to step out. It's a crowded and busy midweek day.

"Let's go for a beer and burger." Stepping quickly she steers us through Union Sq. We walk over to 6th Avenue and take a right. She's taking in sights pointing out this and that. After several blocks we come to a building with a blue facade and go in. It's empty, just two customers at the bar. Spying someone she knows she quickly sneaks up as he's sorting napkins at a table.

"Where's my turkey potpie bitch?"

He turns and crosses his arms. "I knew I should have locked the gate behind me. Because it's a damned shame how they really will let just anyone visit this city."

"You know you miss me, c'mon fess up?"

"Mmmmhmmm . . . like I miss diaper rash. Gone for years and barely a visit. And no I am not mollified with all the fancy gifts you send either. Humph!"

"Oh Really?"

"Well the Italian cashmere sweaters last Christmas were especially fierce so I suppose . . ." He finally cracks and hugs her.

"The green one got me laid good. Speaking of laid, have you bought me another gift? Because I'm willing to forgive any number of transgressions if that's it." He looks at me pointedly.

"He's mine. Keep your grubby paws to yourself. Thank you kindly. I mean it." Reaching back she pulls me to her side.

"John Wayne this is Dax Wilde."

John Wayne? For real?

He shakes my hand and clutches his chest. "Why are all the good ones straight? You must have a wocket in your pocket because Duchess Jim Jim here has never introduced anyone as hers. I just know that I'm going to need drinks for this tale."

Duchess Jim Jim? Wedging himself between us he hooks arms with each of us, calling out for drinks, burgers, salads, fries and pickles as he escorts us to a table. Lulu looks at me apologetically. I shrug it off. I like him, reminds me of cousin Chris. We sit down and the pickles & mixed nuts arrive and we give our drink orders.

"So how'd you two meet? Was it tawdry? Talk slow."

"It wasn't tawdry but it was damned cute. We met in London. The hotel accidentally booked us in the same room. She was wearing little black panties and a batman T-shirt when I walked in on her."

"Dax?!" She warns.

"OOOOH! Scandalous! Go on now?!"

"Absolutely not!" She pinches me and gives me a mildly murderous glare.

"I've not had a chance to tell this story. This is my chance to work out all the kinks."

She grits her teeth a bit and takes a generous gulp of beer before leaning back in her chair and surrendering.

"I was hopeful when she let me spend the night. Suspected we were destined when I walked by the bathroom door and saw her, naked as the day she was born bent over struggling to blow-dry her hair."

"Dax?!"

"I took one look at that peach-perfect ass and suspected I was in trouble. But when she jacked me up and kissed me I was certain of it, and now, well now it's just too damned late and I'm stuck."

I look down at her and smile as she looks at me incredulously. "If you ever want to see my panties again you'll stop right there."

"Waylaid by a peach-perfect ass, story of my life. I feel for you man. I've been there." Says John Wayne with his hand on his heart.

We stay for a few hours and then arrange to meet at Webster hall on Saturday night.

"Sir Dax, I have enjoyed meeting you, as soon as the Duchess here makes an honest man of you, let me know so I can have my good suit pressed. And if she doesn't . . . well there's always the dark side."

He looks at me meaningfully. I can't help but laugh.

"Alright, that's enough Wayne. You honestly think you can turn anything with balls, don't you?" Says Lou.

He looks at her. "Humph, well I wasn't able to turn you, so there goes that theory."

Her eyes widen and she scoffs. "Bitch! Give me a hug, before I get wrong in here."

They hug and kiss and promise to meet Saturday. We take a long meandering walk down through Soho and then back towards the hotel with her regaling me with tales of city life. Sounds like she had a blast and misses it sincerely.

"You've got your big meeting tomorrow we should go in for the night."

"You don't want to hang out, get a bite?

"Nah, you need to be well rested for the big game, we'll order in."

"Yes ma'am."

"Are you sure you don't need help negotiating tomorrow? I've got a salon appointment but I can totally push it off if you need me."

"I can handle it. But if you want to come for moral support meet me there at 12:30."

She looks pleased. "Sounds like a plan. I'll reschedule."

Pulling the contract from my messenger bag she reads it for a fifth time. Relentless. I shake my head and turn on the tv. We wake at 7:30 and Lulu has my suit sent down to be steam pressed, then hits the shower and is dressed and out the door by 8:00 to make her 8:30 am appt.

"Sorry love can't be late, was lucky to get new slot. Will meet you at 12:30, don't start without me." Like a mini cyclone.

I order breakfast and relax as I re-read the contract and think about what I want. I've had a few things pay off. But this? This is big, huge. I stand to make a real fortune. But then what? It'll change things. Possibly everything. I don't care about the extra money really insomuch as it'll maybe enable us to just relax and be with each other full time. I know she gets exasperated with her job, and is just about always running on fumes, but she loves what she does and has worked damned hard to get where she is.

And then there's her house, which represents her independence, and everything she's built.

I'm happy anywhere she is, but I want something that's ours together, without Harry's imprint. Being here with her, I can't help thinking how a huge part of her spirit, what gave her grit and endurance, seems to be here in New York, Id love to buy us a home here. But I know in the long run if our relationship is going to be truly successful and go the distance how important it is that she maintains some of that independence.

At 12:35 I'm standing on Park Avenue waiting anxiously. She's never late. I can see why she recalls this place with such fondness. And she fits right in: as fast, smart and cruelly chic as the rest of them. A misplaced New Yorker by way of Virginia, go figure.

The women here are very well put together and quite nice to look at. These two coming down the sidewalk, the way they're dressed, and staring at me a man's head could get turned. I'm trying not to stare, but the shorter of the two is watching me intently and as they get closer she nudges her friend and says something clearly about me and as she laughs at the response I realize it's Lou and Eddie.

What's Eddie doing here?

"Sorry I'm late, just wanted to change clothes, stopped off at Barney's Soho and found this one. She's in town speaking at a doctors' conference."

"Hey Dax." Says Eddie.

"Hey Ed."

"Lou love I gotta get back, but I'll see you tomorrow for pancakes and dancing."

"Good Luck guys!" And with that she hails a cab and is gone.

"You look different."

"It's just my hair, they cut and conditioned it."

"I like these curls."

"Too much conditioner."

"How come you always say that like you're committing a crime?"

"Because it feels like I'm trying to be someone I'm not. These curls are not my natural state, it feels fake."

"You need to stop, I know for a fact all that hair is yours. So if conditioner makes it curl how is that fake false or wrong?"

She stops and looks at me. "This is a helluva crazy conversation to be having just now." Her lips twitch with amusement.

"You are dodging the subject but I am going to bookmark this conversation and circle back later. Its 12:40 let's go."

We ride up quickly and I check in with the receptionist who immediately alerts Mr. Ott and Mr. Savan by phone that I am here. Lou is seated, legs crossed at the knee, absently thumbing through a magazine. I sit in the chair opposite.

She's very meticulously groomed today, her nails manicured. I've never seen her nails painted. That mouth of hers in red lipstick is almost too much and her dress is beautiful. Bending forward to ease off a heel I can see she's wearing a lace bra, have mercy.

I'm loving those curls. I want to have a case of that conditioner sent home. She's always complaining about how dry her hair is anyway.

Without glancing up she says, "This could be useful after all, just reading something here about managing your mates irritating behaviors."

"Oh really? And I take it my watching you bothers you."

"Amongst other things." She turns the page and reads on.

I'm intrigued. "Other things? Is there a list?"

"Getting longer by the minute." She turns another page.

"Do tell, O' perfect one, what is it about me that irritates you."

"The staring."

"We've covered that. I don't intend to stop by the way. Next?"

"The nail clipping."

"Ok that's interesting."

"Yes. At least twice a week it's crack, crack, crack for like 15 minutes, as you sit on the side of the bed or on the toilet or at the dining room table. About the only place you don't clip is in the kitchen, drives me mildly insane. Not to mention you fail to get up all the clippings and stepping on them is like walking shards of glass, not pleasant. The Roomba never manages to get them all."

"Oh really?"

"Yes." She says.

"Is that all?"

"There's the half-assed way you wring out a rag. The whiskers you leave when you shave. The using my bidet as a urinal. The cyber stalking. The stalking in general. You tend to lurk. It's not attractive. The illicit picture taking, I've seen what's on your phone you pervert."

Normal standard relationship annoyances. It's a bit of a relief really to know we've got some normal issues.

She finally looks at me and frowns. "I don't know why you look so pleased. We've talked about the bidet and the whiskers on the sink a few times now. It all sounds like small stuff, but the devils always in the details. It's little shit like that that's gonna bring this situation to a head, man. Keep on. I'm gonna stop asking and just take it from the left and bring it to the right." She flicks her eyes over me.

"It's not like you're perfect to live with either Lou."

She looks at me incredulously.

"That expensive assed coffee you drink in bed at 11 pm at night complete with cookies forcing us or rather me, since you insist on sleeping on top of me, to sleep in crumbs. Your inability to listen to an entire album of music, or use a coaster. The way you use up all my shaving cream to shave your already smooth legs and never replace it, not to mention dulling the blade."

She stares at me face completely neutral and I think maybe I've gone too far.

"Yeah, well anytime Dax you just say the word. You've got options you know."

We're alone, the receptionist having stepped away. I stand and pull her up out of her chair. Holding her close I whisper, "I guess we'll have to work on some things. But I love everything about you - the worrisome shit too. To address your first issue, I clip my nails religiously so that when I go in search of your little easy button I don't scratch you. "

She shivers lightly.

"Number 152 always distracting me with sex."

"Back at you baby."

She's taken to wearing those Paris slips around the house lately especially on evenings when I'm trying to work and she'd rather play, it's distracting as hell.

She growls a little as I laugh and kiss her lightly, trying not to smear her lipstick. We part slowly as we hear someone clearing their throat.

"Sorry to interrupt. I'm Mr. Ott and this is Mr. Savan. You must be Mr. Wilde."

"Yes, Dax Wilde pleased to meet you and this is Ms. James." Handshakes all around. Lou prepares to sit down again.

"Oh no, please come in," says Mr. Ott smiling at Lulu.

She looks to me and I nod. I know she's dying to be in the room. "I'll be good, I promise." She whispers. The negotiations are going well I think and Lou confirms as much during a restroom and coffee break about halfway through.

"All just standard boilerplate contract stuff so far. You're doing very well. Don't look like that. I'm not being condescending, I'm quite proud of you." She kisses me quickly on the cheek and rubs off the lipstick and looks at me with genuine pride. I'm feeling damned confident and manly right now with the way she's looking at me.

We return however to find that a fifth person, a Mr. Thayer, is there to talk over some of the finer aspects of the agreement he says. Lou who had been playing around quietly with her iPhone looks at him intently. Uh oh. He smiles genially at everyone and in mild lawyer talk states his case while producing an addendum. It sounds reasonable enough but there's something about his phraseology that throws me.

I'm about to ask him to clarify, when Lou pipes up. "It's lovely that you've spelled all that out, but there's not the slightest possibility we'll sign under those conditions."

We? Okay.

"And you are?"

"Who I am is irrelevant. We are discussing Mr. Wilde's product and his contractual rights in selling said product. It's been successfully tested across several platforms domestic and international."

"Well I don't know where else you think you're going to find a deal this good."

She smiles serenely as Mr. Thayer's face morphs into something vaguely ugly. Taking the contract and addendum from me, she picks up a pen and crosses out the four pages and hands them back and calmly folds her hands on the table.