Art wasn’t a subject I enjoyed. I had no eye for colors or shapes. I couldn’t tell the difference between a work of artistry and a child’s best design. Lacking creativity, I couldn’t imagine a finer tattoo in Harlow’s honor besides her name.
Fortunately, Aaron wasn’t me.
I thought to put the design on my chest, but Aaron gently pointed out Harlow’s face would soon be covered in hair. No way did my woman want a beard. Aaron suggested my back for the placement, but I wanted to be able to see it easily. My first tattoo included Harlow’s beautiful face so I wanted it somewhere I could enjoy.
My left bicep and close to my heart was the perfect spot. Aaron's design was a dreamcatcher with Harlow’s face drawn in shadow in the middle.
Talking with Lark, Harlow remained with me in the shop. She frequently peeked at Aaron’s work then held my gaze in a way that made my cock hard.
“Stop,” I finally grumbled, uncomfortable enough sitting still for hours without her working me into painful erection.
Harlow laughed followed by Lark. Once Aaron laughed, I asked my woman to leave, so I could concentrate. She left, but not before giving my cock a quick squeeze.
Harlow did more than squeeze my cock in bed that night. The tattoo acted as an aphrodisiac, causing her to spend hours naked exploring every inch of me. She even slept on a different side of the bed to ensure she'd wake up looking at my arm.
Weeks later when my parents visited for the wedding, Mom was just as impressed while Dad wished I’d done something more religious. Standing tall and wide like the linebacker he once was, my father looked dressed for church in a buttoned up shirt and black slacks
“Jesus died for your sins, Rafe. Couldn’t you suffer a little for him?”
Grinning, I tugged a nervous Harlow out from behind me. “My heart got swept away. Can you blame me?”
Shaking his head, Dad smiled. “No. God clearly sent you a gift.”
“Your heart has wonderful taste,” Mom said, stealing Harlow away as we headed to dinner.
Dad and I walked behind Mom, watching her black hair swing back and forth in a ponytail. Holding Harlow's hand, she talked about how wonderful a child I was growing up. My kids were sure to be the same. After ten minutes, Mom was already talking grandbabies.
Ready to start our new life, I was no longer Saint or Bob Robertson. I became Rafael Ramsey. Harlow even helped me choose the last name, wanting something cool. She also thought Stephanie would appreciate the alliteration.
A few days after my parents arrived in Ellsberg, Mom wept quietly while I married Harlow in Tad’s church. My dad played pastor while Tad walked his daughter down the aisle. I wore a suit with no tie, looking more casual than my parents. Harlow chose a simple blue dress and sandals. While she hated all the attention, my parents needed me to get married in a church. Her parents likely felt the same way. They were just less dramatic about it.
With only the crew, Johanssons, and our families in attendance, my dreamcatcher and I made our love official.
I spent my last day in Ellsberg at Raven's baby shower. Mom came along, wanting to stay close for as long as possible. Sitting between her and Winnie at the party, I felt a depression sweeping over me. These women were more than friends. They gave me strength. Would Rafael be enough in Houston?
Raven was so excited about being a mom, but I wouldn't be in town when River was born. I'd be gone the next time anything big happened for the crew. I couldn't help my family with church or work with Jace on his school assignments. Their lives would go on without me.
Rafael proved his patience during those next few weeks. I was a mess on the flight to Houston, having never flown before. I missed my family and cried constantly during our first night in the hotel. As days passed, I spent all my time on the phone with Winnie and Mom. Refusing to leave the apartment, I didn't want to look for a condo or check out the office space Rafael found for his business. All I wanted to do was return to Ellsberg.
Accustomed to being on his own, Rafael handled our new life without my input. Lost in my depression, I began to believe he'd be better off if I went home.
"Let's make a deal," he said a week after we arrived in Houston. "You give me six months to get things organized here. Once I put my company together, if you want to move back to Ellsberg, we will."
Cuddled in his arms, I felt torn between shock and hope. "But your business is here."
"I can do a lot of it online, if need be. The people I work with don't need handholding."
"You don't want to live in Ellsberg," I mumbled, feeling guilty.
Rafael smiled. "It's not bad for a redneck paradise. Just give me the six months though. If you still don't like it here, we'll move to Ellsberg. I promise."
"Six months."
"But you can't hide in the hotel room, Harlow," he said, kissing my forehead. "You have to try. I know you're scared without your family nearby. You're strong enough to do this though."
Studying his face, I sighed. "If you promise we can go home in six months, I promise to try."
"I promise."
Rafael kept his promises and so did I. The next day, I joined him on the search for a downtown condo. We found a brand new building connected to a two-story grocery store. Rafael was in love. I'd be able to shop and eat meals at the store's mezzanine floor without leaving the safety of the property. The apartment complex provided security codes for the elevator, so only those on the same floor could reach it. Our view from the balcony wasn't much during the day. At night though, the city came alive and we often enjoyed eating with the patio doors open.
I helped Rafael organize his office in a large warehouse in an iffy area of town. He had plenty of elaborate ideas. He wanted an indoor shooting range. He also designed hidden rooms for weapons and spots to act as fallback positions. Whatever he thought might happen, Rafael prepared for war. He even paid the local gang to keep an eye on the building. Most of all, he made clear to them and anyone else how Ramsey Security wasn't a company to challenge.
Houston officially became my home when my family visited. Mom made a huge deal out of the connected grocery store while Dad wanted to try out all of the restaurants in walking distance. Winnie looked around our condo then smiled at me. In that moment, she knew I wasn't moving back to Ellsberg.
We visited often though. Our weekends in Alabama to see Rafael's parents ended as soon as I got pregnant with our first baby. Celine and Antonio bought a house in the Northern Houston suburbs. They didn't want to miss a single grandparent moment.
Pregnancy was easy, but I feared the baby part. I even told Rafael we should have waited. I'd only wanted a baby because I was competitive with my friends. I wasn't ready!
"I'll take care of him once he's born," Rafael reassured me. "You can just sit back while I do all the work."
Rafael wasn't kidding either. On day one, he swept Xavier into his arms and kept him close for the next week at the condo. I hated breastfeeding and the sound of the baby crying. I even second-guessed his name, though Xavier was one of the few French names I liked. Miserable with hormones and fatigue, I even hated Rafael a little bit.
Yet following him around the condo as he carried our little baby in his big arms, I learned to chill out. My husband was hypnotic. Rafael hummed songs I'd never heard before, soothing me along with Xavier. Never seeming tired at all, he changed diapers, prepared bottles, and cared for Xavier. I watched the man I loved with the baby we created and craved to be close to both of them. Soon, I smiled more than I cried. My hormones eventually calmed and I bonded with our son.
"You are an amazing father," I said, leaning against Rafael while holding Xavier.
"I do have a way with babies. Kids have always loved me. Even in Mexico, I was their favorite."
Rafael spoke of his time doing missionary work without the rage about what came later. He hadn't forgotten his past, but learned to view that time in a different way. I followed his lead, watching my family DVD without feeling guilty to have survived. Bad things happened, but life went on. Sometimes, the pain continued, tearing a person apart. Occasionally though, an amazing person came along to heal the pain.
Harlow had no interest in running the offices at Ramsey Security. She also lacked the killer instinct to go on assignments. For the first few months in Houston, I didn't know if Harlow would find her place in our new life besides standing at my side.
After a bumpy start, motherhood suited her. Family kept her sane all of her life, first in Phoenix then in Ellsberg. Once in Houston, she focused on me then the kids. She bonded easily with my parents. We also visited Ellsberg once a month. As long as Harlow surrounded herself with family, she excelled.
"Thank you," she whispered every night as we dozed off.
"Thank you more, dreamcatcher."
Her smile was the last thing I saw each night before we slept. Her bed head was my first sight in the morning.
Xavier was born with a thick head of dark hair like mine. Yet he awoke every morning with the same mess of hair like his mom. Often during our breakfast runs next door to the store, Harlow and Xavier simply wore hats to avoid dealing with their wild bed heads. I always made sure to run my fingers through my well-behaved hair to ensure I received a sexy pout from my wife.
Our life in the city was everything I'd hoped. I worked a lot from home and spent most of my time with Harlow. My coworkers were like me, wanting to settle down after years of spilling blood all over the world. I no longer accepted dangerous assignments, instead playing bossman and organizing jobs for the others. By the time Nadine was born, I stopped looking over my shoulder so often. I was also ready to move to the suburbs.
Harlow loved our condo and didn't particularly want to move. I smiled when she listed all the reasons four people in a fifteen hundred foot condo made sense. My woman always clung to what she knew.
A new build house wooed her away from the condo. We enjoyed picking out flooring, paint, and other features. Mostly, I picked and she agreed. Harlow had no eye for design. She was just curious at how an empty plot turned into our dream house.
The plan was two kids, yet we fortunately overbuilt the house and added extra bedrooms. Blessed with a boy and a girl, we had a child for each of us to focus on when we traveled. As I told Harlow though, life did what it wanted and planning often proved pointless.
Quentin was our last. I had a vasectomy afterwards, just to be sure. The guys at the office teased me about getting neutered.
"When you're this much of a man," I told them, flexing my muscles, "you have nothing to prove."
With our brood in tow, we often spent time in Ellsberg at a small house we bought. Every summer, the crew played convoy with our RVs, traveling farther each time. In Houston, I enjoyed Saturday date nights with Harlow and Sunday dinners with my parents.
My life was damn near perfect. Those years in Mexico stained a decade where all I knew was blood and violence. The next decade with Harlow and our three little ones erased the pain that came before. They reminded me of the beauty in the world and inside of me. Anchored in the present with my dreamcatcher, I never suffered another fitful night.
Living in Indiana with my three sweet sons, two wacky cats, one super mom (and her ugly dog), I love writing, cats, Denny's, 1970's rock, Beanie Boos, and sitcoms cancelled before their time.
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