The Value of a Man 1: My Mail Order Wife by Olivia Gaines

Author:Olivia Gaines [Gaines, Olivia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Short Stories & Anthologies, Short Stories, United States, African American, Women's Fiction, Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages), Contemporary Fiction, Single Authors
Amazon: B00THE81F6
Publisher: Davonshire House Publishing
Published: 2015-02-26T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12. It was all coming together…

Saturday was a family day. A day spent getting to know each other. TaeTay had been worried when bedtime approached last night as Thurston stood in the doorway and watched her tuck Douglas in. In the hallway, he told her goodnight before heading to the master bedroom and closing the door. He didn’t even try to kiss me or cop a feel. She didn’t know if she was happy about it or slightly put out. She blew into her hand to check her breath. Oh well.

That morning, she was up early, raiding the fridge and pleased at the selections inside: Grain fed beef, organic bacon, and other items she would need to research how to cook. Bacon, eggs and pancakes were no problem; that she could do in her sleep.

Douglas, bless his soul, had found a yellow shirt that he put on with a pair of green jeans. Thurston sat watching him with more than a mild curiosity as he strolled through the kitchen, wearing his new clothes with some pep in his step. He asked TaeTay, “Are you guys from the islands?”

“No. Evidently, he likes bright colors. He has never really had anything other than blue jeans and tees, and maybe a pair of dress pants for Sunday, so having so many choices…” she told him.

He eyed her choice from the selection his sister had left for her in the closet. She chose a conservative sundress and pair of low-heeled sandals. “You look lovely,” he told her while standing entirely too close.

TaeTay swallowed hard, “Thank you.” She placed the breakfast plates on the table.

Breakfast went smoothly, and then as she tidied up the kitchen, Douglas went to change clothes again, this time choosing a pair of plaid pants with a light blue shirt. “Daddy says we are going out for a walk,” he said with pride as he tied the shoelaces on a pair of Nikes he also found in the back of the closet.

“We are going for a walk?” She asked Thurston.

“Yes, there are a lot of local markets and merchants in the area. I thought it would be a great opportunity to show you the neighborhood as well as get a feel for each other’s style. You know, for decorating,” he told her as he handed her a set of keys to the house.

She was grinning at him, “So, I can buy something other than framed Ronald Reagan pictures for the house?”

“Of course, as long as you don’t get the collector’s set of Martin, Malcolm, JFK and the 44th,” he told her.

She rolled her neck and put her hand on her hip, “I love my President!”

“I’m sure you do, but rule of thumb, from here on out is this: in that voting booth you can cast your vote for whomever you want; in public, you support your husband, and no other comments,” his face was stern.

She asked with raised eyebrows, “Rule of thumb?”

“Rule of thumb,” he repeated. “Once I throw my hat in the ring, our lives become about sound bites on news shows with talking heads.

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