Love Knows No Color Pt. 05

Finally, I'd had enough. I walked up beside him and said, "Man, she's fine. Look at the way she works that ass. Don't you wonder what it'd be like to hit that?"

The security man nodded at me, "Yeah, I do wonder. She's a looker."

"Absolutely incredible!" I replied, looking him dead in the eye. "It's absolutely incredible. That's my lady you've been following around the store." His face turned beet red. "Hey, Von," I yelled. "Come meet your stalker!" Other customers were now looking at us to see what would happen.

Shavonda straightened up and walked over to me. "Hey Jason. Who's your friend?" she said putting her arms around my neck and kissing me. A couple of people were laughing, the guard was pissed. He'd been outed in front of the customers.

"I don't know but he's been following you for a while. Better call security," I laughed. The guard walked away quickly in embarrassment.

In the car, Shavonda smiled at me. "That was great. I saw him looking and figured I'd give him something to look at. Then I noticed you following him. What did you say to him? I never saw anybody that red before?" She was laughing.

"I just asked him if he wondered what it was like to have you. Then I told him it was incredible. He knew he'd been had. I wonder how much stuff walked out of the store while he was following you?" I was proud of the way we'd struck back. Shavonda didn't shoplift. She had no need to. But she was always a suspect when she went shopping. It wasn't right. They didn't know her. She'd given them no reason to suspect her of any wrongdoing. And yet, she got followed around the stores regularly. She'd made a game of it. I'd just upped the ante.

"You are not right," she laughed. "But it serves him right. I love the irony of threatening to call security on security."

On Friday evening, Shavonda and Tamika picked me up for the Ren Fest. We had booked adjacent motel rooms in New Stanton, not far from the Festival. Arriving there, we noticed karaoke at a bar down the street. So, after we settled in, we decided to check it out. The bar was open but the dj had not started when we got there, so we ordered food from the bar and talked to the dj and his wife while we waited. Shavonda and Tamika leafed through the song books, and picked out several they wanted to sing, writing them on slips or paper and handing them to the dj.

The dj's name was Darren and his wife was Minnie. Minnie was part Seneca like me, and had the long black hair and darker complexion to prove it. She truly looked the part. They were easy to get along with, and we wound up hanging out with them until the bar closed. Minnie especially took a liking to Tamika, and told her how beautiful she was. "No, I'm not," protested Tamika. "I'm fat and I'm short."

"But you wear it well. Size and beauty are not the same, Tamika," Minnie said warmly. "You have a look about you that is beautiful, no matter what size you are you will still have that. Concentrate on that and others will see your beauty as well," Minnie said convincingly.

In a room full of drunk people trying to sing, and failing miserably, Shavonda stood out. Not that we were any less drunk. We had walked from the motel so we weren't holding back the party. But Shavonda was easily the best singer there that night. Only Tamika and Minnie came close. Minnie did this for a living so we knew she'd be good. But Tamika was a surprise. I'd never known she could sing. Shavonda started off with "Killing me softly," and kill them she did. The whole bar stopped to listen to her. One couple would hit the floor for a slow dance whenever she sang. By the end of the night, she was performing duets with random people. I didn't sing. I know I'm terrible, no need to inflict myself on others.

The next morning, nursing hangovers, we set up our booth at the Ren Fest. It was almost identical to the first one. This was the spot we would be spending the next six weekends. Once again, sales were strong. I asked Shavonda if we were going to run out of things to sell. "No," she told me. "We had that happen the first year we did this, because we didn't expect such great response. Since then, we've been making and stockpiling items. That's why we always have two people in the store. One is in the back working on product, while the other is taking care of the store itself. Whatever excess we make, we put in the storage unit. Then when the festivals come, we have more than enough to get us through the season."

Tamika had gone off to explore the festival, so we sat in the booth and handled sales. She brought us back turkey legs. I love turkey, but I am usually a breast man. I could get used to this, though. Turkey legs would be our staple for lunch every day, and dinner after the festival closed at a local diner or the bar that had karaoke.

On the weekends I had the kids, the routine was a little different. Shavonda and I would pick the kids up in the Jeep, then meet Tamika at the motel. We'd all hang out in the room watching Cartoon network while the kids played. Once they fell asleep, we'd break out the Uno cards. During the day while the ladies worked the festival, I'd take the kids sightseeing. We visited Idlewild Park the first weekend, then I took them to see the mountains in September. One weekend we visited the waterfall at Ohiopyle. Then back to the motel to meet the ladies for dinner. We had an arrangement with Tamika to babysit the kids for an hour or so if we felt the urge to make love. All in all, it worked out pretty well.

When the family court date came, Shavonda took the day off to accompany me to the hearing. "For moral support," she said. We sat in the waiting room, with Rose seated nearby looking at us with a smirk the whole time. When we were called before the hearing officer, Shavonda stayed in the waiting room. They wouldn't let her into the hearing.

When the proceedings began, Rose told the hearing officer that my income had doubled because Shavonda was living with me. I told the hearing officer that we still maintained separate homes, and even if we didn't, spousal income couldn't be counted toward child support. The officer agreed with me over rose's protests.

Well, then how much of his income do you want?" the officer asked exasperatedly. She was obviously frustrated by Rose's attitude.

"All of it," Rose replied with a straight face.

"Well I have guidelines I have to go by." The hearing officer turned to me. "Mr. Waite, how much do you think is fair?"

"I would like it to stay the same," I replied, "but I will accept the guideline."

Reviewing the pay stubs we had each provided, she found that while my income had stayed the same Rose's had risen considerably after she'd gotten a job as system administrator for a non-profit. I recognized the name as the same organization which provided day care for the kids. Given that the child care costs were covered by the non-profit as part of her benefits, they were subtracted from Rose's monthly expenses. The end results were that my child support payments were decreased by a little over $100 a month. Rose would have been better off if she'd kept quiet, as I wasn't seeking a reduction.

Rose stalked out of the hearing, glaring at Shavonda on the way out. But she didn't say anything, apparently too afraid to cause a scene in a building full of security. Shavonda asked. "What got into her? She looks like somebody killed her cat."

"We won, that's what happened. She pissed off the hearing officer by trying to have your income included with mine, and ended up getting less money. We're $100 a month ahead. That should cover the cost of the clothing we're buying the kids."

The following weekend, we were working the festival as usual. Sunday morning I got a call from Ziggy.

"You better get back here asap," he said. "Somebody trashed your car."

We left Tamika in charge of the booth, while Shavonda drove me home. Arriving at my house, we inspected the damage. Somebody had thrown a brick through my windshield, and scratched the paint everywhere they could. They'd also spray painted "nigger lover" on the side. This was going to get expensive to repair.

To be continued...