Night Blind (The Technicians #11)

Chapter 13- Direct

Today was going to be a shit day. His bones ached with the announcement of cosmic vibrations heralding the echoes from the universe that his day was going to go at full pace down a poop hole. Everything in his life had changed, and now he had nowhere to hide from the chaotic world filled with women, but at work. At this rate, he wanted the fax machine to go off so he could have a moment of peace and quiet driving in his shop. On the one hand, where he held tight to the complaints and gripes, on the other, was a bowl filled with happiness. The issue was, he couldn’t find the balance in the emotional wheelhouse.

“It all just feels weird,” Michael Isaac Neary said to no one in particular.

In the past week, his wife had broken her foot on assignment. His sister-in-law, who was actually a cousin-in-law, had to fill in for his wife and left home to kill a fucker with Michael’s brother riding shotgun. She returned nearly a hundred and fifty thousand ideas richer, but luckily, standing next to the man she was sent to target was another fella who had made her asshole itch, as she explained to him, and not knowing the man was a high-value target, she had earned her one hundred thousand blessings from The Company.

“She killed him because the man made her asshole itch,” he said, looking up to see his boss making a beeline for his office. “Speaking of itchy assholes.”

“Neary,” Jerry Stanfield said as he tapped on the door, peering inside the space with his round red face. “Did you see the report from Texas? Now there is a problem in Arizona. We can’t keep up with the sheer numbers.”

“I’ve seen the reports,” Michael replied.

“Then what are we gonna do about it?

“Sir, that is a y our pay grade type of decision, not mine,” he told his boss. “My pay grade affords me decisions on who to place on the plane to render assistance, what local resources should be activated, and how much per diem each agent should receive for the market in which we are called in to assist.”

“Yes, yes. But what are we going to do?”

“Sir, in all honesty, I don’t have an answer,” he said, surprised at the truthfulness of the statement. “My wife broke her foot over the weekend, and the past five days have been rough.”

Jerry entered the office all the way, closing the glass door and taking a seat. He provided Slow the same look the old coon dog his dad used to take hunting would give him each time he started to eat a sandwich. It wasn’t his way to confide in anyone, especially not his boss.

“Is Abigail okay?”

“She’s fine, but her sister Helen, I think, had something happen with my brother over the same weekend, and for the past three days, she’s smiling and humming all over the damned place,” he said.

“Wait, you have a brother?”

“Yes, we have a brother; Jarius, that’s his name, came home over the weekend, and he and Helen must have hit it off,” he said. “The thing is…my brother isn’t a bad guy, but he’s not marriage material.”

“Ah, and you can’t say anything because you don’t want the old ball and chain to think you’re jealous since you’re not the focus of attention anymore as the sole cock of the walk,” Jerry said.

Slow stared at him mutherfuckingly for a good minute and a half. “Is that where your mind went?”

“Well, yeah. I know when my sister-in-law visits and brings those double D cups into our home, they take all the energy in the room. I’m tired when she leaves from straining myself not to watch those juggulugs bouncing all over the place,” he confessed. “The one time I mentioned to my wife about Julie getting a better bra, she of course scolded me, asking me why in the hell was I looking? They are double D’s, man. Who in their right mind wouldn’t look? I’ve seen women in Trader Joe’s looking at those back breakers.”

Slow still stared at him mutherfuckingly before saying, “I don’t even know why I try to talk to you. There are maybe three or four loose neurovascular connectors in your occipital lobe, which makes you have a borderline personality disorder.”

Jerry was confused, asking, “What?”

“I firmly believe that if you didn’t pretend like you actually worked in law enforcement, you would have a compound in the mountains where you grew your own food, milked goats, and had five wives all named Mary,” Slow told him.

“How did you know I was planning that for my retirement? I don’t know about five wives though, but Julie and them knockers would be welcome for a Friday night distraction,” Jerry said, waggling his eyebrows.

Slow didn’t have time to respond before his phone buzzed, announcing his wife was on her way up to see him. His forehead furrowed in concern that Abigail was coming up to his office. He knew she had a doctor’s appointment today to check the cast on her foot and take new X-rays and such, but he wasn’t expecting an in-person visit.

Jerry sat waiting for her to arrive. The elevator doors opened, and Slow stepped out of his office. His wife had been on the crutches for most of the day. He figured she was more than likely tired from hobbling; therefore, he took it upon himself to meet her at the elevator, lifting her in his arms and carrying Abigail like a child, while she held onto crutches, to his office. Several sighs could be heard from the women in the office as he walked by.

Jerry, all smiles greeted her with gusto. “Well hello, Abigail. I’m sorry to hear about your foot. How is our little Naomi? Is she still socking men in the mouth?”

“I don’t know, Jerry. I think she only socks men she doesn’t like; I guess little Naomi is still transforming the patriarchy,” Cherry told him. “Good seeing you.”

As obtuse as Jerry Steinfeld could be, he knew a dismissal when he heard one. “Yes, yes, of course. Love to Naomi.”

Cherry didn’t look at Jerry as he left. He was, among many other reasons, why she never took an office job. Men like that made her want to shoot them all and watch the blood slowly drain from their bodies. However, there was a purpose for her visit. She looked up to see her sexy, very confident husband sitting on the edge of his desk, patiently waiting for an explanation for her coming upstairs to the office.

“How bad is the break?”

“Not too rough, but he couldn’t get a good X-ray, which means he has no way to tell me how long it will take to heal,” she told her husband.

“Was it hard to get the foot at a good angle to get a scan?”

She smiled at him. He was so handsome and obtuse at the same damned time. From her pocket, she pulled out a picture frame, passing it to him face down.

“I’m not understanding.”

“Turn the frame over,” he told her.

Michael Isaac Neary lived his life with a slow hand. He took his time to process situations to determine the best outcome for all involved. A man blessed with keen insight and a quick wit, he was very slow on the uptake upon looking at the black-and-white image.

“Is this a sonogram?”

“Yes, that is the first picture of Luke,” she told him. “If you turn it this way, let me show you, right there, that is his little worm. We are having a boy.”

Slow sat staring at the image. He could clearly see the head, legs, and arms. When he held the picture as she said, he could see what she meant; there it was, his little Neary maker. He was going to be a father again, and this time it was a boy. He would have a son.

“Holy shit,” he said softly. “Are you okay? Are you feeling okay? Do you need a snack, some juice, a pickle, or a piece of fruit? When? I mean when will Luke be arriving?”

“I’m about 17 weeks,” she said. “We are halfway there.”

“Where? You aren’t even that round about the middle yet. I saw some extra junk in the trunk, but I thought that was just from eating regular meals. Wait, that came out wrong. Holy shit. I’m going to have a son to go with my adorable daughter,” he said, looking at her. “Do I say thank you? I’m at a loss for words here. Holy shit. A son. Thank you.”

He leaned over, kissing her lightly. He still stared at her, then at the belly covered up in the oversized coat. Michael Isaac Neary held up a finger, exiting his office and standing in the middle of the walkway of the cubicles and offices. He opened his mouth and said very loudly, “It’s a boy! I made me a son! We’re pregnant again!”

For no logical reason, he began to do the MC Hammer dance up and down the walkway in front of his office as people clapped and cheered. For good measure, he even added the music from his mouth with a booming, “dun-dun-dun-a-dun!” Cherry sat in the chair, watching him with pride and she teared up a bit. This is what he had wanted and missed being able to share with his co-workers about Naomi.

People passed by him, giving him a high five as he grinned from ear to ear. She heard a few people mention they didn’t know he was married. One woman said she didn’t know he could dance. Someone commented they had never seen him smile and somewhere an Angel was dying in fear from him showing off his teeth. Finally, when he’d calmed down, he announced, once more very loudly, that he was taking the rest of the day off to celebrate.

He returned to the office, red-faced, slightly embarrassed at his own reaction to the news, and grateful. Michael Isaac Neary was grateful for the new change in his life. This was news his father would love to hear.

“Whew, I need to call Daddy,” he said, holding up a finger for her to wait on second, dialing his father, grinning from ear to ear. “Daddy, we did it. Luke Jacob Neary is in the hopper. He’ll be arriving in about four and a half months. I know right, yeah, please, let Mom know. Sure. Sure. No, she’s wonderful. Just as beautiful as ever. She’s glowing, Daddy. My baby is glowing as she’s carrying the life of our son. Sure will.”

He ended the call, looking at his wife with a blush on her cheeks, “Dad sends his love and says hi. I’m sending you some love too. This is awesome. I need cigars. Ooh, wait. I need to call Jay. Wait. I don’t know if I want to talk to him. I think he and Helen bumped uglies. She keeps smiling.”

“They did,” Cherry said.

“Eww. She also said Cinderella had fun at the ball, I don’t know what that means,” Slow replied. “How long will her post-coitus happy joy thing go on? I mean, do the aftereffects last a long time? Wait. Is Cinderella, I don’t want to know. I can’t know. It would fuck up my day to know what that means.”

“Based on what she said, there were rounds,” Cherry told her husband’s upturned face. “Are you jealous?”

“No, not at all,” he said, “Jay is just not the settling down type. I don’t want Helen to expect much from him going forward, but I could be wrong.”

“I think you might be on this one. Whatever happened between them changed her. The weekend changed her, and she’s happier than I’ve ever seen, so I’m going to leave it alone,” Cherry said, “I’m craving red meat. Like liver and onions red meat.”

“And double eww,” he replied. “However, my blushing bride and mom-to-be, your chariot awaits.”

“Lead on my noble knight,” she answered, getting to her feet. “I want to ask, and I will wait until we are in the car, about what you mean with her expecting too much from him.”

He carried her to the elevator and out to his SUV. Helen had given her a ride to the doctor’s and dropped her off at his office, and he would bring her home after they went to celebrate. Naomi wasn’t at school today because she was on a shopping trip with her grandmother. It gave them time to talk.

Inside the vehicle, Cherry asked the question again about the man called Mustang. “You said Helen shouldn’t expect much from him. I’m certain she doesn’t, but a bit of clarification is necessary. I mean, I didn’t even know you had a brother.”

“Because he’s also a Technician, the connection between us, well, you know,” he explained. “If you found out his real name, you’d know he was a relation, but he is also Black, so people don’t add two and two and get him as my brother.”

“And why, you know, the expectation part?”

Slow shrugged a bit. “He only comes home twice a year. For Mom’s birthday or he chooses Thanksgiving or Christmas, depending on his schedule.”

“Do you ever go to him?”

“Yeah, I go out to fish or when he’d bottling his homemade hooch he calls wine,” Slow said. “Mom and Dad go every June; you know Father’s Day is also right around both Jay and my Dad’s birthdays.”

“Still not clear on the expectation thing,” Cherry pushed.

“Listen, he is a stallion, always has been, always will be, and he’s free-spirited. He doesn’t want kids and doesn’t really like a woman fawning over him, but he will allow Mom to fuss over him every once in a while. There is a little bit of affection between him and Rebecca, and she thinks the world of him, but there is…well.”

“Well, what?”

Slow drove down the highway, ready to turn into his favorite Mom are you okay? Do you need a pickle, some ice cream, or a hug? Should I say thank you?”

He smiled back at her. “Yeah, this is a lot. My arms are strong, my shoulders are steady, and if you guys are good and happy, I’m good and happy.”

“I’m happy, but I can’t work for a while,” she said, looking him in the eyes. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Not if you take your ass out in my golf cart and go shoot us some dinner,” he said, laughing.

Cherry swatted at him playfully. “No seriously, will we be okay on one income for a while?”

“I have no mortgage or car payments, so yeah, plus I still have my side gig,” he said, winking at her. “If you want to be a stay-at-home mom, it’s okay. I’m okay with it.”

There was another thing on his mind that he wanted to address. Now was the time since they were sitting in a well of honesty. He was also curious and needed an answer. He asked, “May I ask, Mrs. Hump, you had no reaction to her.”

“No need,” she said.

“She is a stunning woman, even with the short hair. When it was longer, even longer than yours, she entered a room and sucked the life out of it,” he said. “You didn’t seem fazed by her, and neither did Helen.”

She shrugged, “it’s the way you look at Rebecca.”

“Huh?” He asked, uncertain what she meant, “What do you mean, the way I look at my sister?”

“When Mrs. Hump saw you enter, her body language didn’t brace as if she were in a space with a former lover and his new wife,” she said. “She was happy to see you as I guess her friend. The boy was happy to see you too as if he had something to catch you up in his little boy life. Hump gave off the same vibe. When she sat down at the table with you, you blessed the food, took a bite, and looked up at her like you look at Rebecca. As if you were waiting for her to say some shit to annoy you. That’s how you look at Rebecca.”

“I do not!”

“Yes, you do,” she told him, “You also, in your speech to Rebecca, talk to her as if she is still your annoying little sister. Naomi picks up on it, which is why she makes a wide berth for Rebecca. Naomi senses Rebecca is someone who annoys you. You treated Mrs. Hump the same way. Does she annoy you?”

“Never thought about it,” he said, “her role is to seduce men. I always wanted her to feel safe around me, so I turned off the sexual side of myself in her presence.”

“Turned off the sexual side of yourself?”

“Men can do that Abigail,” he said, smiling. “Jay does it as well. I saw him turn it on for Helen.”

“Yes, I saw him turn on the charm for Naomi,” she said. “Keep in mind, Naomi reacted to Jay based on your vibes to him. She watches everything you do and if she senses you don’t like someone, like your boss, your daughter responds in kind.”

“You’re interesting. I like you. Yes, I am madly in love with you, but I also like you,” he said grinning. “Again, are you going to be okay being a stay-at-home mom?”

“You’re changing the subject,” Cherry told him.

“I just found out I treat my sister as an annoyance, my daughter mimics who I like and don’t like, and Helen named her lady parts Cinderella who had a ball with Jay,” he said, “but the good news is, I also found out I’m going to be a Daddy again, and I get to cut the cord when Luke arrives. I’m good. I’m so good.”

For the first time in her life, Abigail Barnes was good as well. The idea of staying home with her children, baking cookies, and having a hunk of meat ready when her man came home from work didn’t turn her stomach. Possibly, a year, maybe two at home would do her some good. It would do Helen some good as well. Finally, she could take it down a thousand and relax. Until now, she’d never realized how tight she lived with the fear of providing for the three of them and having to worry about not coming home after an assignment.

“Thank you,” she said softly, surprised by the arrival of tears.

“No, thank you,” he said. “This is going to be a good life. I love you, Abigail.”

“I love you as well, Michael,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I love building this family with you.”