Saturday, December 8, 2012

Blue & Silver Bows

Hello all! My name is V.L. Locey. I generally write romantic/comedies but for this special outing we`ll have a straight up contemporary romance. We`ll be doing a two-part holiday tale starring Jonah and Dana, the new couple that you met in White Moon, Yellow Leaves.

I am a self-published and traditionally published author that lives in the mountains of Pennsylvania with my husband of over twenty-one years, my daughter who is sixteen, a herd of dairy goats, chickens, geese, ducks, turkeys, three dogs, two cats, and a partridge in a pear tree.

Enough about me now, let`s dive into some holiday romance, shall we?


Blue and Silver Bows


V.L. Locey

Pittsburgh, PA

“Mom, if you and Jonah get married will I be Rhett Big Deer? I think that would be a cool name. Better than Rhett Waters. Mr. Boyer said it was cool that we knew Indians and that they were purse and cutie.”

I stopped at the red light and stared at the six year old chatterbox buckled into the seat at my right.

“Your teacher said what?” I had to ask. Rhett stopped drawing a bear in the steam of his window and turned lovely blue eyes to me. Ever since hearing Jonah relay a Seneca legend Rhett was bear obsessed.

“That the Indian people were purse and cutie. I didn`t never seen Jonah with a purse and I don`t think he`s a cutie either. I think Mr. Boyer sniffs glue,” the first grader announced then returned to his steam bruin. A blaring horn got me moving again.

“Okay, let`s handle these one at a time. First,” I said raising one gloved finger from the icy cold steering wheel, “ Jonah and I are not getting married. We`re going on a date. One date doesn`t mean I`m marrying the man. Two,” another finger rose, “Even if I did marry Jonah - which I`m not – but if I did your name would still be Waters.”

“Your name would be Big Deer. I like that better.”

“Yes, my name would but I`d be his wife. You`re a Waters, you`ll always be a Waters. It`s beside the point because I`m not marrying Jonah, “I turned the clunky heater up another notch. “Thirdly, the Native Americans were persecuted, not purse and cutie,” I explained working really hard to suppress a smile at the lads expense.

“Is persecuted like hated?”

“It is, yes,” I glanced at his profile. He was so very much Rhick`s son right down to the way his nose turned up a bit on the end.

“It`s stupid to hate people. I like Jonah and Andy. I wish I was Indian!” Rhett said with the kind of enthusiasm only a six year old can muster.

“I agree. It is stupid to hate,” I replied pulling into Rhick`s driveway.

Two cars sat in front of the modest home my ex and his new wife owned. I started chewing on my bottom lip. The porch light came on and I exhaled loudly when Rhick came down the steps, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched against the cold. I sat behind the wheel of my Toyota, watching the man jog to his son`s door then try to tug it open. It took more than a tug, it took the Incredible Hulk to wrench it open but this was the only car I could afford after the divorce. His new wife had a nice pink Prius. I hate pink cars. The door groaned and freezing cold air blew into the car. Rhick stuck his head in. He was still just as damned cute as he ever was, the bastard.

“Hey, you`re early,” he ruffled his son`s hair as the boy struggled with the sticky seatbelt. “We didn`t get the lights up on the porch. Must be your mother`s in a hurry to meet her date.”

“At least I waited for our marriage to be over before I – You know what, why don`t you get his bags out of the trunk?” I pushed the damned little button with the image of an open trunk on it.

God that was close. I promised myself that I would not be that woman in front of my son. Rhett loved his father. Rhick loved his boy. He just didn`t love me. Screw him and the horse he rode in on. I had a date with Jonah Big Deer in thirty minutes. Rhick`s bullshit was not going to sour this night for me.

“Mom, you`ll be getting me tomorrow, right? Will Jonah be here?” Rhett asked. Rhick, who has bionic hearing when it`s something not of his concern, arrived back at the open passenger door, two duffel bags in hand.

“Yeah, mom, will Jonah be here tomorrow?” Rhick asked, his breath clouding in front of his smug face.

The denial was on the tip of my tongue. Instead of giving my ex the benefit of seeing me squirm I went with-

“If he`s here you`ll see him,” I told my son then kissed his pink cheek. “Now go have fun and make sure you show Inga how to decorate a Christmas tree properly.”

“She`s Swedish, Dana, they know about Christmas. Unlike the man you`re seeing tonight,” Rhick snarled, hurried our son out into the cold then slammed the door as hard as he could. I grimaced, fearing for the car in general. One good slam could be all it took for the rusted out POS to disintegrate, leaving me sitting alongside the curb in my best black dress with a steering wheel in my hands.

“Did I detect a tint of racism?” I asked my rattling heater. “Or was that jealousy?” Rhick was going to be forty in eight weeks. Jonah Big Deer was twenty and six. Age was just one of many differences between the two men.

I smiled like the Cheshire cat and waved at Rhett until he disappeared inside the house.  Grinding the gears a little I hurried out to Homestead. I had roughly fifteen minutes to meet Jonah at The Waterfront, a huge shopping complex along the mighty Monongahela River. It`s a monstrous place built on the site of the former Homestead steel mill with theaters, restaurants, and a comedy club among many other ‘cool’ places. Also, it was relatively easy to find. All Jonah had to do was come across the Homestead Hi-Level bridge and look for the huge brick chimneys, the only remaining testaments to the steel mill that remain.

I had nervously taken care of where we would eat and the evening`s entertainment. Jonah, being from the Finger Lakes region of New York, knew nothing about the local nightlife here. After that first rather stiff phone call after my great-aunt Jo-Jo, Rhett and I had returned from Mud Puppy Lake over Thanksgiving, I was slowly growing more confident with being the one doing the planning.

Jonah rather enjoyed it I think. Maybe it was part of the older woman/cougar mystique or some sort of bullshit. Rhick would have blown a gasket if I had laid out the plans for an evening when we were dating. Yet another difference betwixt the two men I noted, swinging off the bridge that spans the Monongahela. The Waterfront awaited me at the exit. Christmas lights and twinkling decorated trees were everywhere. I drove around, swiping at the windshield occasionally, until I found the place I had made reservations at. My trusty Toyota clattered into a slot and heaved a sigh of relief when I turned off the engine. 

Pulling back the sleeve of my coat I saw that I was ten minutes late. I swatted the clock above the radio in vexation then hauled ass to the front doors of The Improv. I took a minute to try to tamp down my golden fly-away hair, wishing I had thought to run a dryer sheet over the static-filled mess. I untied my coat, turned my back to the door and began jostling. You know when you hike up the pantyhose, heft up the breasts, smooth out the panty-lines and give your cheeks a final pinch? Forgoing the cheek pinch since it was about fourteen degrees I sailed into the doors of the comedy club as if I owned the place. Then I saw Jonah Big Deer chatting with some guy and all that ‘Here comes the cougar! Rowr!’ spirit blew away like a balloon with a prick in it.

And damn but didn`t my date pick that time to turn from his conversation to look at me as if on cue. I placed a hand nonchalantly on the wall. I hoped it looked like a come-hither glance. It probably looked like my knees were knocking, which they were. Jonah said something to the tall fellow he was chatting with then walked over to me. His long legs chewed up the distance quickly. He moved like a mountain lion, all sinew and stealth. He was far more feline than I would ever be.

The man looked good enough to eat. He had worn his black jeans and a long ebony wool coat. Obviously he was fond of boots for he had forgone the old shitkickers he had worn at the lake in favor of an onyx pair of alligator boots that shined like Yul Brynner`s head. His coat was unbuttoned. Under the coarse wool was a wide chest wrapped in light blue cotton. He had forgone traditional neckwear and wore a bolo with black cording and a silver and turquoise stag tie. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail as thick as my wrist. It was the look on his handsome face that made me lean against the wall instead of merely using it for support. Close to three weeks had passed since he kissed me beside Mud Puppy Lake. His eyes were fiery black gemstones as he ran a long look over me. I flushed. My mouth got dry. My shoes felt too tight and my bra suddenly shrunk.

“Dana,” he said, stopping three inches shy from flattening me against the wall. Damn it. He was fixated on my mouth. I was glued to how thick his lashes were. I ran my tongue over my lips. The man shuddered imperceptibly. I acted in typical Doofy Dana fashion and held out my hand. Jonah glanced down at it, stunned me into blindness with a smile filled with perfect white teeth, and then raised my fingers to those plump lips of his. He kissed each digit then rolled my hand over to nibble on my wrist. I wanted to say something but all that came out was a sickly choking sound like ‘Glorp’ which made him chuckle warmly as he ran his lips over my pulse. “You sure have a way with words,” he teased.

“Maybe we need to go get our seat and order,” I offered with feigned nonchalance, “Since you’re so hungry you have to gnaw on my arm.”

The look he gave me through those long black lashes made my inner thighs itch. “This is nothing, you should see how I could feast on you if only you`d give me a chance.”

Oh roar.

I had an incredible time. Jonah was attentive, the comics were amazingly funny, and the pub food was perfection. We started off with spinach and artichoke dip with tortilla chips and then moved onto the entrees. I talked my date into having a pulled pork sandwich with a side of cole slaw. While we waited for the food we sipped at our drinks. Jonah just wanted soda due to his long ride home but I wanted something with more pizzazz so I ordered a Sex on the Stage which is vodka, Midori melon, Peach Schnapps and orange, cranberry and pineapple juice. I love Sex on the Stages! They`re so delicious and fruity that you hardly taste the vodka in them, but it`s in there, trust me. By the time our entrees arrived I was laughing so hard at something the comedian had said that I slipped into my Muttley impersonation.

                Jonah lifted his head from salting his sandwich when the first wheezing sound came out of me. He probably thought I was choking on my pork. I waved his concern away with fingers smeared with Bar-B-Q sauce. Damned vodka is the sneakiest stuff in the world. I`m not sure exactly as to why I ordered a second cocktail but I did. I think Jonah was rather enjoying the Dana on vodka show. He could barely keep a straight face when the forkful of cheesecake he held over the table for me rolled down into my cleavage. I blinked at him then looked down into my dress. Then I looked back at Jonah with his empty fork dangling in the air.

Things kind of went off the tracks after that….

To be concluded…..



  1. To be concluded when???? This is hot! Oh roar indeed!

  2. Next Saturday, Michele. Glad to hear Jonah seems to be keeping the heat up during these chilly winter months. ;)

  3. Uhhhh No fair!! Leave us just hanging!!