10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Keyshaun

"No, put the chairs closer to the shade from that overhang," Etta dictated, bouncing little Oscar on her hip as Mama cradled Orwen. Or was it the other way around? My sister was going to have to start dressing the twins differently or something. Maybe write their names on their foreheads with a Sharpie? "Now back. Lionel, did you bring the headphones for the boys?"

Lionel, the pack camel, rifled through two diaper bags, a backpack, and the storage area on their twin-size stroller. "I think I left them in the van."

"We'll need them. The noise from the marching bands will be too loud," Etta stated as Oscar drooled white milky froth onto the shoulder of her pretty pink top. I pointed at it. She sighed wearily. "Can you take him?"

"Of course. Come here, little man." I lifted my nephew from my sister and got a funny little gas bubble smile. Mama said they were too young to genuinely smile yet, but I discounted that. "Are you happy to see your favorite uncle?"

"Sorry, but I'm their favorite. I set up their college funds, and their names start with O like mine in homage to me being the favorite uncle," Ornell chimed in as Uncle Devon futzed with his fave lawn chair—the one he used when he fished on Seneca Lake back in the late 90s that day he caught a fourteen-pound brown trout up by Salt Point. The thing was mouse-chewed, stank of his garage, and had a funny stain on the seat that he claimed was root beer spillage, but we thought maybe it was from shitting his pants the day he'd caught that monster trout. We teased him unmercifully about that discoloration. "Does anyone know if any of the coffee shops are selling iced coffee? It's already too damn hot." Mama hissed. "Sorry, Oscar."

"This is Orwen," Mama corrected. How she could tell I had no clue. Guess raising triplets had given her some sort of divination about such things, although Etta didn't count as she had girl plumbing, so it was easy to tell her apart. "These are great spots. I'm so glad you got spaces so close to the ice cream parlor."

"I need to state, for the record, that I am the favorite uncle by virtue of the fact I am better looking, much cooler, and am dating a Calder Cup winner." I made a face at the little baby drooling all over himself. He was so pretty, his skin a soft tan like a fawn, his eyes wide, and his cheeks round and chubby. They were growing like weeds. Etta was a fantastic mother. "Isn't that right, my man?"

Orwen burped up some milk. I looked in the stroller for a rag and found a tiny green muslin burp cloth mashed in with some cloth diapers. Etta was giving cloth a try, and so far, so good. Yay for the environment! After dabbing his chins, I lifted him to my shoulder so he could watch the people passing by behind us. I'd opted to close the gym today. No one would be working out for starters, plus the side streets had barricades put up by the WGPD to keep traffic from trying to get onto the parade route. Pretty much the whole village was shut down for the next few hours. After the parade, we were all heading to my sisters for a cookout. It would be the first time Tanner would be attending a family affair as the man I was dating, which added a new kind of vibe to everything. We'd not settled on titles yet, and I was fine with that. Tanner was opening up in amazing ways, both sexually and emotionally, and I did not want to fuck it up. He offhandedly mentioned reading up on demisexuality this morning over eggs and coffee at his place. That felt right the moment he mentioned it. I encouraged him to do so but try not to cram himself into a set category. Just be him. He'd assured me that he had no inkling how to be anyone else.

Lionel appeared flustered and sweaty but with two sets of yellow baby earmuffs. "This town is insane. I think the entire populations of Schyler and Chemung counties are rolling in."

It was a pretty big thing for a small town like ours to have a championship team. We settled the muffs on Oscar—or did I have Orwen?—and then I passed him over to his father to help get Mama situated. The parade was slated to have started ten minutes ago, but the local fire department's Dalmatian decided to investigate one of the food trucks parked in the town hall parking lot. We all laughed at the black and white dog as it dashed down the sidewalk with a string of pilfered Italian sausages in its mouth.

Mama and Uncle Devon sat side-by-side, whispering, and at one point her hand rested atop his. I thought nothing of it. Mama always touched people when she was talking. My attention swept from my mother and uncle to the parade. The first band of many marched by, followed by floats from local businesses.

"See, there, see! We should have rented a fancy convertible to drive around in to pump up the gym's name," I shouted at my sister. She rolled her eyes.

"We had three days, Keyshaun. Three. Days." She held up three fingers in a fashion that looked like a rude gesture. I let it drop. For now. Next parade we were getting a convertible and I would be in the back seat, lifting hand weights as Missy Elliott's "Work It" blared out of the speakers while Ornell threw discount cards to the crowds. Lionel could drive. Etta was not allowed to drive among this many pedestrians. Her special awareness was terrible. Just ask her insurance company.

The parade moved on, slowly, with more bands leading the way. Then the Gladiators arrived atop a charter double-decker bus with an open top and banners with their red, black, and gold Roman warrior logo on the sides. Everyone cheered as they crept past, the huge silver trophy being held up high by Baskoro as they passed. Tanner's sight found us in the crowd. I blew him a kiss. He smiled sheepishly, nodded, and then the bus was moving away.

"What a shy thing. Totally opposite of my children," Mama said, appearing beside me out of the blue. There was no arguing with her. None of her three were what one would call bashful. Not that his brother was timid, though. Rudy was a firecracker so that reticent nature was pure Tanner. I loved that part of him. "We're heading out to help with the boys. You're going to that gathering at the winery, then coming over to Etta's, right?"

"Yes, Mama, we'll be there by six." I kissed her cheek. Uncle Devon smiled at me, placed a hand on my mother's back and led her off into the crowds that were starting to disperse. I stared at that hand of his for the longest time before turning to my brother, who was gathering up chairs. "You see that?" Ornell looked up and down the street, then shrugged. He resumed battling with the trout chair. "You have to lean on the left side. It's bent." He did, and the thing folded down. "And I meant the way Mama and Uncle Devon are acting."

My brother sighed. "Okay, just so you know, simply because you're all gooey in love with—"

I poked a finger at his face. "I am not gooey in love with Tanner."

"Never said a name, my brother." Oh he was smug. "Just because you're all in your feelings doesn't mean other people are doing the same. Uncle Devon and Mama are like brother and sister. He's always been fond of Mama, you know that. And now that Dad is gone, he's just helping out with the man stuff."

Hmm, maybe, but then again…

"Excuse me, but did I just hear you say man stuff as if there are things only those who have testicles can do?" Etta snapped.

"Uh-oh, Keyshaun, you're in trouble now," Lionel teased as he hoisted a diaper bag to his shoulder, the boys having conked out an hour ago.

"Back up. First of all, Ornell said the sexist thing," I pointed out.

A family of four skirted around us, the mother stopping to ooh and ahh over the twins. I used the diversion to head out, leaving my brother to get chewed out. I had to meet the team at the lake, so I called goodbye and hightailed it away from the impending blast site. The walk was a short one, just a few blocks. I'd just gotten to the marina when I ran into Marcus Newley and his daughter. She'd lost a balloon, it seemed, and was in tears. Marcus and Baskoro were boyfriends. I'd spoken to him a few times when he'd been in the Glen and accompanied Basky to my gym to work out.

Marcus was kneeling on the ground in front of his little girl. I jogged into the nearby waterfront gift shop. It was packed full of the required touristy items like T-shirts, caps, and mugs, all with Seneca Lake printed on them. Bins of rocks were sitting beside a window, all smoothly polished and all with motivational words on them. Most wouldn't work for a child lamenting her lost balloon. I pawed in the bin, tossing aside KINDNESS, JOY, RELAX, HOPE, and PEACE, the stones clacking together as people shopped around me. Then, down near the bottom, I found a brownish-white rock that said STRENGTH on it. That seemed perfect to me. Any loss required strength to get through, so I bought it. Then I jogged back to the crying child.

"Hey," I called as I neared. The charter bus was just creeping into the parking area for the gift shop. Gulls cried out as they took to wing, disturbed from their usual perches atop the roof of the shop by the huge bus.

"Key, how you doing, man?" Marcus asked, rising to shake my hand.

"Better than this poor child."

"I lost my Gladiators balloon," she whimpered, pointing to the air where a tiny red speck could be seen floating over Watkins Glen proper.

"Man, that stinks." She nodded and sniffled. I went down to one knee and opened my palm. "I bought this for you. It says strength, and I thought you might need a little extra right now."

Her dark eyes went from the rock to Marcus. He nodded. She scooped it up and gave me a shaky smile.

"Thank you. I know what it says. I am a professional reader," she whispered, tears stalling. She sat down on one of many benches, the wind off the lake rustling the ribbons in her braided hair.

"Thanks, man, that was kind of you," Marcus said as we sat on either side of Kyleen, who seemed mollified now.

"Sometimes we all need just a little more fortitude. Speaking of perseverance, how are you holding up? Must be tough having your boyfriend's team win the championship after beating your team."

He chuckled dryly. "Not going to lie, it stings. But Baskoro worked his ass off, as did the whole Gladiator team, and I'm proud of him. That being said, next year the Comets are going to run over the Gladiators, so he best enjoy it." He gave me a wry wink.

I could see how it might be tough playing the same sport in the same division as your lover. They'd work it out, though. They seemed solid. Same as the other queer players on this team as well as the Comets. Sure, there were bigots still lurking around. Being Black and queer gave Marcus and me an extra heaping helping of hate to deal with, but the majority of people had been welcoming. Even in small towns such as this, love and acceptance seemed to outshine the hate.

The bus rolled up, and the door opened. Players began filing out one-by-one, most chatting to someone behind them. I got to my feet when Tanner exited, his cane in hand and a grin a mile wide on his face. He found me right off, and his smile grew even brighter.

"Wow, that is one hell of a grin. Fossie just saw the most important thing in his life." Marcus gave me a clap on the shoulder. "Just chirping. Although that man has it bad for you, no doubt."

He led his daughter to the bus. They both hugged Basky. I made my way to where the players were lingering around talking. The hotel was having a reception for them thrown by the town council. Then it was over to Gaudion Winery for a more informal gathering.

"You look like you're ready to float," I said as I walked into Tanner's embrace, hugging him close while inhaling his warm skin.

"Seeing you does that to me," he whispered beside my ear. Yep, this man had me right where he wanted me. In his arms, and now in his bed. Life was pretty sweet.

***

What a difference twenty-one days makes.

Not that my life wasn't sweet yet. It was, and in no small part thanks to Tanner, who was healing at an astronomical rate. He credited his rapid recovery to my kisses and our not-so-sensual yoga classes. That was incredibly generous of him. It was Tanner who was putting in the work. I was just there to cheer him on and show him how to ease into a seated warrior variation. Or I had been. For the past ten days, I'd been stuck in Buffalo. It was a great city, truly, and I was excited to be able to have it be the home of the second Williams Wellness Center, but just not right now.

Ornell chided me daily—sometimes hourly—about my lack of interest in our expansion. Our sniping was growing as we worked together with bankers, carpenters, more bankers, plumbers, more bankers, and electricians to get a basic idea of costs and when we would be able to open the doors. The cost was enough to make even an ex-soldier weep in to his fruit smoothie. We'd not think too much over how long things were going to take. Ornell and I wanted to open before Christmas. When we said that to the contractor, he laughed until he could barely breathe. Then he patiently explained—as if we'd never opened a business before—about permits, red tape, lack of suitable employees, critical shortages in supplies, etcetera. All were long lead in times. Oh, and the HVAC system was substandard to the new coding that had taken effect last week, so that would also have to be added to the list.

Which led me to the first stress migraine I'd had in forever.

Between the new site, the old gym, and my female family members—and my brother who was cruising for a bruising if he mentioned tax deductions one more time—I was at my limit. Mama and Etta were essentially running the Watkins Glen gym now, something that I was not thrilled with. My mother was supposed to be retired, and my sister was supposed to be home doting over my nephews. When I made the monumental mistake of pointing those two points out to them, I got my ass ripped. In my defense, I had been extremely tired, stressed, and only thinking of them, but man did women dislike being told to go home and tend to the babies or clean the pantry. Not that I said it like that, but somehow my kind and loving words got twisted in the airwaves between here and Watkins Glen, so when they entered feminine ears they sounded sexist.

"…looked at the second quarter expenditures yet? We need to have them to Ken in two days."

I glared at Ornell, who had come striding into my hotel room as if he had a key. The fact that he did was neither here nor there. One room, two queens, saved money. A good thing as we were going to be coughing up huge amounts of cash in the near future. I might end up having to finance any future children just to pay for the damn HVAC system. I made a note in my mind to call someone and bitch. Loudly. The realtor was the first person on my ever-expanding tear-a-new-one list.

I took a deep breath, tried my best to block out my sibling, and re-centered on my meditation. Etta had suggested mindfulness to lessen the creases on my brow.

"I know you hear me," Ornell added and stomped around me seated on the floor with my back to my bed. "This is important, Keyshaun."

A nerve in my left eye began to twitch. "I'm trying to meditate here, O. Can this wait until I get done?"

"Fine, fart around on the floor. I'll fly home to get things in order for Ken to work."

"Okay, have a nice flight."

He left after saying some words that Mama would have washed his mouth out with soap. I blew out a breath, opened my eyes, and stared at an ugly ottoman where my suitcase sat open. He'd be back. He was in his boxer shorts and a robe. My phone buzzed. I was loathe to even pick it up. My eye was still twitching when I glanced at the cell resting beside me, the guided mediation session still playing. I paused it, smiled at the incoming call, and let my head fall back to the bed as I placed the cell to my ear.

"Hey there, sexy man," I said to Tanner.

"Hey yourself," he replied, his deep voice like a cool balm to sunburned flesh. "I was just getting ready to head to the gym for yoga class. How's things going for you in Buffalo?"

"Things here are making my eye twerk."

Tanner laughed hard. "Now that is something I need to see. Sorry, things are so tense."

"It's all part of being a business mogul," I teased, rubbing at my eyelid to try to calm it the hell down.

"Sounds like you could use a break from moguling. I'm heading to my cabin in four days. Why don't you join me?"

My eyelid stilled. Oh. Oh man. That sounded nice. Really nice. Me. Tanner. A cabin in the woods. No brother, no bankers, no sisters and mothers, no brothers, and no contractors. Just me, Tanner, and trees.

"Key, are you still there?"

"Yeah, sorry, I was just lost in the fantasy of what you just suggested." I stretched out my legs and wiggled my toes. Mindfulness was going to have to wait.

"Not a fantasy at all. Brand new cabin. Canadian wilderness. No neighbors."

Damn, that did sound good. But I had so much going here and back home that—

The door opened and Ornell stalked in, carrying two large cups of coffee from the coffee station in the hotel lobby.

"Okay, so I have coffee for us. Now, can we get some paperwork done and off to Ken before the IRS crawls up our asses?" Ornell asked as the hotel door snicked softly shut behind him.

Camel meet straw.

"Can we meet at the cabin sooner than four days?" I asked Tanner. Ornell looked down at me as if I had just said Beetlejuice three times. His face grew tight with horror.

"Sure, I can meet you there this evening. I have to load up the dogs and their paperwork. Pack some shit. I can meet you in Makwa say by eight tonight?"

"Makwa. Yeah, I'll meet you in Makwa by eight. Where is this Makwa?" Ornell's mouth was falling open wider with each sentence I spoke.

"Up near James Bay. Quebec. There's a small airfield in Makwa. If you fly out of Buffalo to Sudbury and hop a charter to Makwa, I can pick you up there."

"Okay, Quebec. I can get to Quebec by nightfall," I said as my brother's jaw hit his chest. "Yep, I'll book the flights now."

"Amazing! I'm so…this is really spur of the moment. Are you sure you can get away? Are you sure you want to do this?" Tanner was talking with such excitement I could hear his pack whining as they picked up his happy vibes.

"I have never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Then I'll see you in Makwa tonight. I'll have the home fires burning as they say."

"See you then." I blew him a kiss, hung up, found a plane, booked it, and then stared at my stunned sibling. "Say what you have to say. I need to pack, shower, and catch my flight to Quebec."

" Quebec ?!" That was the first of about ten thousand words that rained down on my back as I threw my clothes back into my suitcase. When Ornell was winded from his tirade, I zipped my carry-on, turned, and looked him in the eye.

"I love you, and I love this business we're building, but I haven't had a vacation in over three years. I'm going to Quebec to spend a week with Tanner. If I don't get a break, I'm going to end up with an ulcer or something worse. Look what stress did to Dad." He was about to argue. Then his jaw snapped shut. "Mental health is just as important as physical."

"I know, but now ?"

"If not now when?" He made like a fish, mouth opening and closing before it finally closed softly. He nodded. "You should go somewhere too. Now. Today. You look like something one of Tanner's dogs rolled in."

"Thanks, that's really kind of you. Jerk."

"Truth hurts." I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his brow to mine. "Take some time off. The books will be there when we get back. The banks will be there, the renovations will be there. We'll just be in better places to handle them all."

He exhaled robustly, eyes closing for a moment, then opening to catch mine. "Fine, I'll go somewhere, but it is not going to be in some forest in the woods with no cell service or Uber. I know you know that the Black dude always dies first in horror movies."

"This is a vacation in the woods, not some foolish movie . " I laughed, kissed his cheek, and made my way to the bathroom to shower and shave.

"I got one word for you. Cocaine Bear !"

"That's two words and I doubt there are any bears in Quebec," I shouted through the door.

Tanner never once mentioned bears. Just moose.

I paused, pulled out my phone, and Googled moose mauling statistics. Oh, okay, so not many, but a few. Unsettling, but I'd just steer clear of moose. Then I looked up what kind of bears lived in Canada.

Oh shit, well, certainly not Care Bears. I kind of wished there had been a stuffed teddy with a big old red maple leaf on its tummy on that stupid web page.

Maybe Ornell had a point. I'd buy some bear spray and douse myself with it when I got to Makwa. Nothing was going to keep me away from Tanner and all that romance.