it’s one in the morning on a Sunday and I just heard five gun shots right outside my window.
I don’t even try to look out. This is Detroit.
No, I’m not telling part of this story, I’m telling you what’s going on right now.
I heard arguing early outside, but I didn’t look outside the window, which had awoken me and made me get my flash drive and post chapter 3.
I decided to keep it going interested in what my brain could come up with still groggy in sleey but curious to know what was to hapen at the spa.
Yes, Jaelen’s from Stealing Innocence I and II. Still an ass, but did you really expect him to change?
Anyhoo, I’m back at it again and I hope your morning is going more safely than mine.
… there’s more gunshots. I’m turning the lights out and going back to sleep after I post. I’d call the police but this is Detroit. They won’t come. I’ve worked for them for five years and I know they won’t come.
So I stay away from the windows, keep the lights down low and I hope that no bullets have my name on it. Pray for my safety.
PS Don’t forget to invite friends….
Waxing was more painful than she thought, but relieving in itself. Once she was able to figure out how to “sculpture” herself, she was on the fast track to getting rid of all the unwanted hair on her brow.
Lupe was a four foot nine Puerto Rican woman who at first looked like a child, but the winkles on her face told Charisse she had to be going into her forties.
“Now your legs, senorita,” Lupe instructed. “Just like I showed you with the larger ones.”
Being “careful” of her condition, they used the cold wax pads that didn’t need heating. Before this, after Charisse had taken a very hot shower to open her pours, Sophie had gone down everything they were to do today. After this, they were going to do her hair.
Sophie entered the room and said something to Lupe in Spanish.
“She’s almost a natural, Sophie,” Lupe commented in English to whatever Sophie had said. “We’re almost done. She’s finishing up her legs now. All that’s left are the thighs.”
Confused, Charisse looked at her legs and frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with my thighs.”
“Look higher,” Lupe said.
She did but didn’t see anything.
“Higher,” Lupe and Sophie said.
Charisse looked at her crotched and blushed. “Who looks there but me?”
Sophie chucked. “It doesn’t matter. My father always said never smell like a bear, eat like a bear, or look like a bear. You are not doing this for any man’s pleasure, Ms. Sheridan. You do it because you are woman and your power is drawn from what people don’t see.”
“My crotch hair makes a difference?”
“It’s sanitary and keeps you smelling fresh longer,” Lupe said.
“Plus, that much hair makes it look like you have Don King between your legs,” Sophie stated simply. “We might need to get the shaver first, Lupe.”
Lupe went to prepare that for the area, while Sophie said, “I’ve drawn a bath in the next room, but I wanted to get the perm in your hair and then get the conditioner to soak it before we get you to the milk bath.”
“Milk bath?” Charisse asked. “With actual milk?”
“Nutrients for your skin along with milk,” Sophie said.
Once she was done, as Lupe instructed, she placed the oil on the areas she had waxed and then let Sophie take her over to a beauty chair. Sophie only instructed her how to put everything on and even showed her how to mix the home perm mix.
“I had to run to the beauty store, while Lupe was with you because we only have professional strength here. I didn’t want to take a chance on you applying it wrong, so these are safer,’ Sophie explained.
Through her explanation, Sophie was amazed at Charisse’s aptitude.
“I’m not stupid,” Charisse snipped at one over the boat compliment as if she were a five year old figuring out a complex algorithm. “I left college to take care of my dying mother. Not because I was stupid. I was straight A until then.”
“I didn’t mean to-“
“I know,” Charisse said cutting her off. “I’m just touchy. But
everything you are doing is appreciated.”
Sophie changed her instruction immediately and Charisse was still able to get things done. Once the perm was in and then washed out, Charisse caught sight of herself in a mirror and couldn’t believe the reflection she saw staring back at her.
“What is it?” Sophie asked worriedly.
With her eyebrows toned down and her hair coming down past her shoulders, she saw a different woman instead of the dull face she was so used to. Maybe it was the cleansing they had done early to her pores or the cucumber mask applied, but she looked very different from the face she had been looking at for over twenty years.
“Nothing,” Charisse lied because she knew there was no way she could explain this to this woman.
Sophie placed a huge jar of conditioner in front of her. “Apply and then wrap it in the plastic like I showed you earlier.”
When she was done, she followed Sophie to another part of the room where behind a silk crème curtain one could almost see through was a large standalone tub filled with a milky liquid.
“Hang your robe and rest comfortably for an hour. Every five minutes, rub your hands firmly all over your body to soak the nutrients in.”
Lupe burst in the room as if she had run from the border and back. “Sophie, Ms. Tibble is back. Can you please come do that thing you do to her? She’s in a lot of pain and needs it bad.”
Sophie looked distressed. “Can’t she wait?”
“She’s demanding it.”
“Can you watch her?” Sophie asked.
“I’m in the middle of another customer. I can’t.” Lupe said.
“I am not a baby,” Charisse said.
“But Mr. Mills’ words were specific and I do not want to disobey him,” Sophie said. “On your way back up, Lupe, can you send Mr. Mills in, please?”
“I’m taking a bath! He’ll see me,” Charisse protested.
“The water is thick enough to hide your body parts,” Sophie stated. “Plus he’ll stay on the other side of the curtain where he can see only your figure. I’ll be back in thirty no less. Don’t forget the instructions I told you to do when the timer goes off.”
He walked in filling the doorway with a look of concern in his eyes. Charisse wanted to duck under the water very aware of her nakedness.
“I have an emergency for a moment, Mr. Mills. Could you please keep an eye on your sister in law until I get back?”
“That’s fine,” he agreed and Sophie left out.
Parker immediately sat in the chair and glanced over at the curtain. All he could see was her head. Turning away so it wouldn’t look like staring, he reached inside his jacket to pull out his PDA/phone to busy himself.
A small beeping noise sounded to indicate she was to start rubbing herself, but she was so embarrassed, she didn’t even move. By the next beeping noise, she knew Sophie would get upset with her and just know she had not done as she was instructed to do.
To keep her nerves calm, she decided to talk while she started at her feet and rubbed the milky water into her skin.
“Why haven’t you thought about just adopting?” she questioned.
It was a moment before he answered, his attention focused on the electronic device. “I’ve thought about it and Chyna has suggested it.”
When he didn’t say anything else after that, she looked to the curtains in his direction. “But?”
Parker put the PDA down and looked her way. “I could, but I don’t. The stigma of adoption and failure isn’t what I want.”
“Stigma? By whom? So called friends? Family? Whom?” she asked.
“Just in my own heart. I don’t want that. My dream has always been to produce a child and raise a child with my wife.”
“I think you’re living in a fairy tale.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” he asked.
“Because fairy tales don’t come true. Fairy tales are a load of crap that that shoveled down our mouths as children because adults are afraid to tell the truth.”
“And what’s the truth?”
“That life is a bunch of shit and there’s nothing happy here once your eyes are opened.”
“Opened to what?”
She wanted to get away from being the center of attention, so she said, “Oh Parker, don’t be coy and don’t think I don’t know you’re miserable with Chyna. That brief conversation in the car clearly tells me that you’re regretting saying I do.”
He was shocked at her perception, but he hid this in his features and tone of voice. “We’ve been married for ten years. Every couple has their ups and downs. Right now, we’re in that stage where we want something and we can’t get it normally. But things are going to look brighter, soon.” There was so much hope in his voice and she almost believed him.
The subject was just too interesting to speak about and she quickly finished massaging and leaned on the side of the tub to look at him.
All the while, he had watched her feeling, she had more to say, but then he couldn’t stop watching her.
“You look healthy, Parker. What’s the medical problem if I may be so
“You may not,” he said and forced himself to look back down at his electronic device.
“So you’re fine? It’s Chyna?”
“This isn’t your business, Charisse.”
His reluctance to tell her made her even more curious. “I’m dying of curiosity. Come on, Parker.”
He flinched at her word choice. “Dying?”
Charisse couldn’t help chuckling. “Okay, I’m not.”
Changing the subject, Parker questioned, “Why aren’t you serious about what’s wrong with you?”
“Because there’s nothing a little death can’t cure,” she said simply.
He leaned closer to her, disturbed by her callousness. “And you don’t think this is a problem, Charisse?”
“For whom? You? My sisters? Or me?”
“We’re your family.”
“I’m an unwanted scab in this world that doesn’t want to be here.”
He decided to tell her Jaelen’s words. “Maybe there’s a purpose for you in
this world and God’s will is not yours.”
The timer went off again and she abruptly turned away from him.
Parker straightened in his chair feeling that his words had hit something inside of her, but unsure of what. She didn’t speak to him and he
pretended that something on his device was more important than her.
The massaging gave her time to think of his worlds and just everything she had tried not to think about in a long time. For some reason Parker’s presence calmed her and the daymares didn’t come.
Sophie returned after half an hour and Parker quickly left the room as if he were in a rush to do something else.
‘Get away from your crazy ass,’ Charisse told herself.
His Substitute Wife… My Sister Chapter 3.2 (c) 2008 Sylvia Hubbard