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“Summers in The Meadows.”
“Ummm hmmm.” I nodded, ready to listen.
“I found a few properties out there with land that goes on forever. Acre after acre to build my garden and finally work on the strand I created with Chem’s guidance.”
“Wait, is that the reason behind all of this?” I chuckled. “That nigga got you thinking you’re a chemist, too?”
Anna was nature-focused and always had been. She was sure to only choose houses with lots of surrounding land so she could frolic and freely explore the green thumb that had taken her years to acquire. There was much trial and error before she confidently grew anything she touched. Many plants had died to make that dream of hers come true, but it was worth the expense to see her happy and coming into her true self.
“Nooooo. I’m a master grower. There’s a difference. He’s way more advanced than me, but still, it has something to do with my plans. I want to produce and sell it legally at some point. I want to dedicate it to women, those with wombs, and those doing womb-work.
“And I want to build a homeschool on the property since we’ll be so far away from anything and everyone. Aussie and her siblings won’t ever be behind. In fact, her schooling will start at two. I’ve been creating the lesson plan already, building my own curriculum. Children retain the most knowledge before they’re even five. That’s when school starts, but they’ve had years to learn more and do more… see more.”
“I agree. We started our schooling before kindergarten registration.”
“Same, Mal. God, just the thought of it all excites me.”
And the sound of her calling me by the nickname she’d given me at fourteen excited me. We’d known each other for two years and she claimed Malachi was such a mouthful. The truth was, she wanted to feel special, differentiating herself from those around me by calling me something no one else could.
I grew rigid underneath the sheet, watching her smile lift her cheeks and the corners of her gleamy eyes. The lack of sun did little to conceal the light that pierced them. My dick throbbed in my briefs, aroused by every piece and part of my wife. From her perfectly aligned teeth to her button-sized eyes and dewy skin.
“Me, too.”
“Just promise me you’ll make it happen.” She pouted.
“Haven’t you learned by now, Anna? Whatever your heart desires is my life’s task until it’s done and that smile I love so much is burning your cheeks.”
“I know,” she whispered, gasping for air that seemed to be sucked from between us.
“Then, don’t insult me again, and don’t worry your pretty little head. I got you; always have and always will. Now, are you ready to shower?”
“Yes.” Nodding her head, she responded softly, “You first.”
Staring at the being we were being cautious of, I quickly processed how much our lives had changed since she’d entered. Our daily showers weren’t as simple as they once were, neither were they as long and fulfilling. We spent half the time wondering if we were hearing her cries or if we were just paranoid.
Eventually, we’d always decide to put ourselves out of our misery and end showers much sooner than we liked. The phantom cries weighed on our hearts and refused to let us soak up the suds in peace. It never failed, but the attempts and the effort was where the beauty rested–aside from within Anna.
I scooted backward off the bed, carefully so I didn’t stir our sleeping princess. Her dimpled cheeks sunk in and then expanded as my weight shifted the bed. To stop the cool breeze from hitting her body where the heat from mine had been, I placed a pillow beside her. She settled again, almost immediately.
With pursed lips, I blew Anna a kiss with promises to meet her in the bathroom when she was ready. In the meantime, I would prepare our water and bathing necessities. The warmth of the bed was replaced with the brittle cold of our marbled floors. I missed them already.
Putting my big nigga draws on, I continued toward the bathroom. My size eleven and a half feet didn’t stop until I’d made it. Upon entrance, a grand idea struck me, leading me to the garden-styled tub that Anna loved dearly instead of the shower as planned.
Time stands still in here. Her voice echoed in my head. It was her common ground when convincing me to take a moment after a long day’s work. It never failed me. She never failed me. That was why I felt it necessary for us both to make time stand still for a moment.
Maybe the gloom will evaporate.The heaviness that weighed my chest down, pressuring it to the point of pain, hadn’t resolved itself, but I was hoping the bubble bath I was about to prepare would help alleviate it somewhat.
While using the tip of my finger to press the bubble bath dispenser that was installed along with the tub, I quieted my thoughts to give my heart the floor to speak. Nothing surfaced, not as I checked the water’s pressure or measured the heat spewing from the faucet. On the ledge of the tub, I sat, dumbfounded, my bottom lip tucked between my teeth in deep thought.
“Let go of your hair, Mal,” Anna commanded.
As gentle and non-threatening as she sounded, I complied. I always did. There was power in her softness. Somehow, it made me want to grant every wish she had and meet every demand she made. I couldn’t remember too many times I’d ever heard her raise her voice. She refused to settle in spaces or be around people that required elevated vocals and blood pressure.
“Come ’er.” I smiled, extending my arm and wiggling my fingers slowly in her direction.
Just as slowly, she placed one foot in front of the other, making her way to my side. Once there, she sunk her hand into my head, disrupting the twig I’d twirled in the center of my head out of sheer habit when deep in thought. Anna didn’t hate much, but she hated when I did that.
Somehow, it made her feel as if she wasn’t doing her job well enough or I didn’t feel comfortable enough confiding in her. It wasn’t the case. Whenever I found myself twirling in my hair, it was because I was searching for words, answers, or an understanding. It had little to do with her meagerness and more to do with my momentary deficiencies. They would pass. They always did.
