In the House of Spite Ch. 05

A day of snow had kept Pearl from returning to Darren's house when she wanted to. The ice on the road was too dangerous for her. He texted that he understood and only wanted her to be safe.

The day after that was fine enough. Pearl rode on over to his house early in the morning, but she found out that his family was coming over. In his defense, it was apparently short notice for him too. His little sister had recently given birth and she wanted to come over to show the little cuddle potato off. His parents thought they might as well come and visit at the same time. Not only would they be checking in with their son, they'd get to see the new baby. Two birds, one stone.

And all that meant that Pearl would have to bake some cookies. Classic chocolate chip.

Lunch was over by the time all the guests had shown up.

Crystal Nathan was Darren's married little sister, and she was very small in comparison, not too much taller than Pearl. Her husband, Eric, was a sturdy White guy, maybe five feet and ten inches in height. They seemed nice enough, and they didn't mind at all that whenever Pearl walked by she waved and said hi to the baby.

Little Andrew Nathan, he looked like a sculpture or a doll. That's how perfect he seemed. A perfectly wrinkly and sleepy little newborn with the softest skin.

Mrs. Booker and Mr. Booker Senior went crazy over the baby. Normal and fine, even endearing. Darren liked the little guy too. He got to hold him a few times. It was a heart-warming sight. A big, almost scary man that looked like he could eat a bowl of nails for breakfast without any milk. He happily snuggled with and cooed down at a delicate child.

Trying not to giggle at the old Spongebob reference in her head, Pearl served the guests a plate of warm cookies and glasses of milk. She received quite a few smiles and thank yous. As she walked off, Mrs. Booker called out, "Girl, aren't you cold? You should have some sleeves."

Pearl turned around and put her hand on her bosom. She was wearing a T-Shirt. Her sweater and coat were elsewhere. "No, Ma'am. I'm fine. It's warm in here and all the work makes me sweat."

"Well, alright." Mrs. Booker Senior then looked up at Darren's face with an odd expression. The old man was smirking, amused, like he knew of a secret joke. Darren held in a snort and turned to lightly hold the baby's hand with his big fingertips. At that time, Andrew was in a stroller so he could have a rest.

Upstairs, in Darren's bedroom, Pearl went to see how the dogs were doing. Darren had sent them up there because he was worried about one of them getting too aggressive with the baby. He was certain that they were good boys deep down, but even if they didn't want to hurt anyone, they could accidentally do so. Baby humans were a brand new concept to them. They likely didn't know how to behave.

Pearl played a short, indoor game of fetch with Gunner. Then she played the same game with Baby Blue. A few head pats each, and she went back downstairs. As she went off towards the laundry room, she heard Mrs. Booker say, "Boy, you need to get yourself a baby soon. You aren't getting any younger."

"A good wife's pretty hard to find, Mama." That was certainly Darren.

"Well, I guess I'm glad you aren't going to knock up some random girl and walk away."

The old father spoke up, almost offended. "He'd better not! I raised him better than that!"

Pearl was putting clean clothes in the laundry basket. Nothing but blue jeans. She didn't think she should fold them in the living room where all the guests were. She carried the basket into the kitchen.

"You can fold those in here! It's alright!" Definitely Darren.

Shrugging, Pearl went to the living room. She sat on a spare cushion on the couch and went back to folding. By the time she was done, the baby woke up and made cute noises. The short nap must have done him some serious good. He wasn't crying or whining or anything like that. As Pearl got to her feet, she heard Crystal say, "Oh, wait! She didn't get to hold the baby!"

Pointing at her chest, her cheeks flushing, Pearl looked at the woman's glittery brown eyes and said, "Me?"

"Yes, you!" Crystal carefully scooped her tiny Andrew up and then stepped over to Pearl. "Everybody says you're sweet as sugar. I don't mind showing my baby off to you. Ever held one before?"

"A few times, but it's been a while. I've never even been a babysitter."

Her cute cheeks rising, her soft brown hair rustling with her movements, Crystal said, "Just support the head and you'll be fine." She showed Pearl how to position her arms in a cradle hold. Then she put Andrew right there.

The little darling had his mother's pretty eyes! And he the cutest little hands. "Oh ... he's so beautiful." Pearl was beaming down at him. "And he smells so good. Baby powder and clean clothes."

"He won't smell like that for long."

"I guess not. Would you mind if I touched his face?"

Crystal put some insurance there, her hands under the baby in case Pearl slipped. Then she said, "Go for it."

Pearl let the backs of her fingers and finger joints caress Andrew's cheek. His lips smacked and he turned his head towards her hand. "He's so cute," Pearl said. "Okay, I'll give him back before I get tempted to steal him."

Crystal snorted out a laugh as she took Andrew back. "You're funny. Okay, I'll let you get back to work."

That exchange put Pearl in a glorious mood. She was thinking about cute babies for quite a long time. When the guests were finally gone, and Pearl was washing the dishes, she imagined what it was like to deal with a baby screeching as if the world was ending and then comforting the poor dear. She even imagined changing diapers, which she'd done on some occasions in her life, but this day was the first time in what felt like forever that she got to hold a baby.

A tap on her shoulder.

"Eeeeee!!" She dropped a glass in the water, making suds splash onto the countertop. About half a second after that she hopped and turned around at the same time.

Darren's torso.

She calmed down immediately.

"What are you smiling about?" he playfully asked.

Pearl slapped her hands together, flinging extra little drops of water around. She eagerly said, "I got to hold a baby!"

"That just made your day, didn't it?" His hands were on his hips, and when Pearl looked up at his face, she saw a his teeth peeking out from a little smile.

"I need to tell Mama when I get home," Pearl said as she snatched up a towel and wiped up the little mess she'd made. She faced away from him to do it. "She'll go gaga."

She heard his socks slide on the floor, then one of the kitchen's dining chairs being dragged. "Your mom wants grandbabies, right?"

"Oh, if I popped a baby out right now she'd pick it up and say, 'This is mine.'"

"Do you like kids?"

She hung the towel on a hook on a wall. She thought it would dry better that way. "I love kids, but I'm obviously not ready to have any right now." She picked up a dry towel. "First, I'd need a good husband." She went to the sink and folded the towel into a slightly thin rectangle. "And then we'd have to be financially stable enough."

She laid the towel down in such a way as to catch most splashing and spillage. "I refuse to have a welfare baby. My pride won't allow it. But my mom thinks if you wait until you have money then you'll never have kids. She used to beg me to prick my boyfriend's condoms." She was scrubbing a stubborn, rough thing off of a pan. "I think that's a pretty horrible thing to do. I'm still kind of freaked out that she suggested it."

"She's that bad, huh?"

Rinsing the pan off, Pearl said, "She means well, but I think she goes nuts sometimes." She laid the pan on a plastic draining tray. "That's why if I have a kid, I'll have to put my foot own with her. No preaching to my baby. No taking the kid to church. None of that. There's nothing wrong with teaching a kid about religion, but I won't let anyone force it on my baby. Kids are too vulnerable."

"Huh. That's weird."

Pearl looked back at him. One of his arms was resting on the table. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

His lips jerked up in a careless expression as he shrugged. "You're all for marriage before kids, but you're not even religious."

"So?" She turned back to the dishes. "It's nothing to do with religion, or gods, or anything like that. I just think that if a man's not willing to go to court and commit to you, then he sure isn't worth putting half his DNA in your kid."

He laughed. There was a growl in there. The heavy, perfectly masculine sound sent a rolling, almost liquid feeling down Pearl's spine. Then he said, "You're a class act, Girl."

"Class act?" The most uncertain, squeaky laughter was pushed out of her throat. "Yeah right. I wear ratty jeans and I haven't had my hair done since my senior prom, and that was a one time thing. Nothing classy about me."

"Huh, whatever. Silly Girl." That last phrase was said under his breath, but Pearl heard it. Like a small gust of wind.

When she was finished with the dishes, she clocked out.

***

Her dream was vivid and fast paced.

Charcoal grilled steak and burgers. Out of season Christmas string lights. Grunge and Death Metal with occasional J-Pop. Dancing around a campfire. A hug and a kiss from a tall man that called her his Little Girl.

Then ...

I love you. I've always loved you. Come here. I need to hold you.

I want to taste you.

Then touches. Palms sliding all around. In a bed. A secret from the world. Tongues tangling. Careful, gentle bites on their lips and ears.

I want you naked and wet. I want you screaming my name.

I need you.

Pearl was rather moist between her thighs when she woke up.

But she was able to get over it very quickly.

She was keen to get back to work. She was going to have a wonderful day. Or that's what she assumed. The work was good for her body and mind, and it wasn't particularly difficult. Part of the job involved hanging out with doggos. The money was pretty good. The boss treated her well. It was a great job.

As she brushed her hair, Pearl thought of Mr. B's smile.

His warm smile. His knowing smile.

Her fingers tightened over her brush's handle.

She looked in a mirror and saw that her nose and cheeks were rather pink.

If only ...

Pearl frowned and looked down at her feet.

If only he wasn't her boss ... then she might actually ...

She put the brush down. The sound of the plastic hitting the top of her old dresser was lonely. She didn't know why it was lonely. She only knew that it was how her mind described it.

She tapped one of her blushing cheeks with her palm. It wasn't good to be in such a low mood. There was work to do.

In Darren's house, everything was going smoothly. She wanted to make a lovely breakfast for Darren. In pleased anticipation, she popped the joints in her fingers as she scanned the interiors of the kitchen cabinets and refrigerator. Gunner ate his food pretty quickly, and then he soon walked into the kitchen. As she gathered the ingredients and put them on the counters, Pearl glanced at the German Shepherd. He approached and tapped her leg with his nose. Then he looked up at her with very strong-willed eyes.

"What is it, Sweetie?" Pearl reached down to pat his head, but he didn't stay to enjoy the touch. He turned around, took a few steps, then paused to look back at her. "What? Are you okay?" He kept staring. Pearl approached, and then Gunner started walking again. It didn't take long for Pearl to figure out he wanted her to follow him.

Was Timmy stuck in the damn well? Why the hell was Timmy playing near the well in the first place?

Up the stairs, all the way to Darren's bedroom door, which she assumed was locked, although Pearl had never tried to open it while he was in there. Gunner stood at the door and let out a single, sharp bark.

Coughing and gagging!

Behind the door!

"Mr. B?" She rapped on the door with her little fist.

More coughing! A sudden thump on the floor, as if someone had fallen!

Pearl gripped the doorknob, turned, and let herself inside.

Next to the huge bed, sprawled out on the carpet with half the comforter and a puddle of vomit, there the man was. He looked paler than normal. The stench was wretched!

Holding her breath as much as she could, Pearl rolled up her sleeves and tried so fucking hard not to step in vomit. All she had on her feet were socks. She didn't think she had much hope of carrying the man to his bathroom. He was a giant when compared to her. She managed to push him up to a sitting position. At least he was conscious.

Her palm went to his forehead. She ended up pushing his head back because he'd been drooping. His temperature was ridiculous! "Oh my god!" She touched his cheek. "You're like the god damn lake at summer!"

Darren's dry looking lips hardly moved as he mumbled something about needing to go to the bathroom.

Despite the vomit, Pearl inhaled very deeply. She needed to do that in order to mentally prepare herself. "Okay. I need to put my shoes on to keep me from slipping. I'll run for it."

Some moments later, both of them were suffering. Darren was moving so slowly towards the connected bathroom, shuffling on his fucking knees. Pearl had to deal with his weight on her body. Okay, to his credit, it was one arm around her shoulder. He didn't just flop onto her.

In the bathroom, he coughed out that he could get to the toilet by himself, and Pearl said that was fine, but, and she shuddered as she said this, he needed a wash in the tub.

Darren's eyebrows closed and opened so slowly, so excruciatingly, as he gave her a look that seemed more sour than the throw up on half of his body. Then he hoarsely asked her, "How comfortable are you with nudity?"

Considering this to be an emergency situation, Pearl immediately pointed down to the bathroom floor and firmly stated this, "What happens in this motherfucking bathroom stays in this motherfucking bathroom. Now after you use the toilet, I'll come in and help you in the bathtub." Good thing there was a shower. "Do you need help getting on the seat?"

His head drooping again, Darren shuddered so harshly that Pearl fucking felt it. He said with a horrified tone, "God, no."

"Okay. I'm going to get some spray stuff so it'll be there when I start cleaning up. Scream if you need me."

She found that she had enough time to wipe most of the chunks off the comforter and put it in the washing machine. Then, noting that poor, unfortunate Darren was still moaning in the bathroom, she thought to try to work on the carpet.

In the end, she was feeling quite proud.

The toilet finally flushed. Then the slow, clumsy noises of Darren getting to the sink while groaning, all were heard.

She went over to the bathroom door and called out, "You alright?"

"Nah." She heard the sink running.

"Okay. Let me know when you're ready."

"Yeah. Great."

He asked her to come inside around a minute later. Inside, Pearl saw him leaning against a wall. His typically bouncy hair was mostly stuck to his skin like he'd been in a swimming pool. Pearl did her best to help him into the bathtub, but she thought he was doing most of the work. She felt that she mostly watched him to make sure that if he fell and split his head open she could call 911.

She ran the water and made damn sure it was only lukewarm. Then she plugged the tub and put a very shallow amount of water in. She heard the water slosh a little, then the wet noise of something slapping onto the floor. A little glance, and Pearl saw his now wet briefs on the tiles. He'd gotten in and then removed the underwear.

Now. Was not the time. To obsess over his damn penis.

Pearl mentally chanted that if she saw it, she needed to ignore it.

"I'll help you a little," she said as she squeezed body wash into a rag, "but after a while I'll go let the dogs in the backyard so they can run around, and then I'll get a cup to help me wash your hair. You can do the rest while I do that."

Darren didn't say anything. His eyes were closed. His breath was rough. He turned away and put his elbow to his mouth to cough. Pearl sighed and ground the soapy rag into his back with long movements.

His body was like a decently thick MMA fighter.

Nice butt.

She shook her head and closed her eyes. This poor man was fatigued and certainly hurting. She'd already figured out he might have the flu. It was flu season, after all. He didn't need some crazy bitch ogling him. He needed someone to fuss over him.

Up and down his arms. His shoulders, chest, and belly. If Darren was embarrassed, he was either too sick to express it or he was very good at hiding that emotion. Pearl decided the former option was the most likely one.

And still, nope. The penis didn't exist. That what she pretended. She might've accidentally caught a bit of a view out of an eye's corner, but she didn't react to it.

She asked him to bend one of his legs. She washed that one up. Then the other. The vomit smell was basically gone now, except for his breath and little in his hair. The feet had their turns, practically massaged. Yep, he made those growly, rolling, dense happy noises. But he still coughed a bit.

"Ohhhhhkay." She handed him the rag and soap. "I'll be back soon. Try not to drown."

When she had the dogs' attention, she made sure to give Gunner a treat and call him the best damn boy ever. She also put little doggy coats on them, just in case. Gunner got a thinner one. For now, they seemed happy and fine while out in the cold. They wouldn't be left out there too long, but they needed exercise. Pearl wasn't about to take them for walks. She couldn't handle the beasts' strength. When she saw the dogs running around and pretending to attack each other, she nodded at them.

Along with the plastic cup, Pearl got a bottle of water. In the bathroom, where Darren quietly and miserably sat in his bath, she knelt down and told him to take some sips. Dehydration was a legitimate fear. Then she went off with the task of washing his hair. He had hair like his mother's. It was physically different from Pearl's hair. He needed more moisturizer and gentler shampoos, for example.

Pearl liked to imagine he kept his hair fluffy instead shaved because of his typical vindictive nature towards what he viewed as unfair criticism. According to her limited knowledge, some people still thought a Black person's natural hair wasn't acceptable, or at least didn't look professional. And a lot of those people were often Black themselves.

After shampooing, and rinsing, she went to the conditioner. She applied the stuff to different sections of his hair and even used a flexible detangling brush. When that stuff was all rinsed away she blotted his hair with a towel. Then she laid a bigger towel on the floor and helped him out. A third towel was wrapped around him. He seemed only slightly more energetic now that he had a bath.

Pearl walked him to the sink so he could rinse his mouth and brush his teeth. Then she walked him to the bed. She went through his drawers to get some fresh undies, a T-Shirt, and comfy sweatpants. It was his responsibility to get the underwear on, but she'd help him with the rest. He probably didn't need her help getting dressed, but she didn't give a rat's ass. She was compelled to take care of him.

She left him to get two buckets lined with trash bags, just in case he couldn't make it to the bathroom next time. She also made sure he had access to his phone and charger, plus some magazines and books. She reassured him that she'd be back in a bit. She needed to get his breakfast done. Then she'd hand him some ibuprofen to take with his food.