Tanked: TANKED (30 page)

After supper we lie on the couch, his head resting on the arm and I’m lying between his legs. He hits the mute button then asks, “Do you think we could bring the new bed from the apartment at my place over here?”

“You don’t like my bed?” I tease.

“Mine is bigger.”

“All men say that,” I mock.

“You’re complaining?”

“Definitely not,” I smile.

“Also a gun cabinet and maybe a dresser for me, but where are we going to put it?”

“The gun cabinet or dresser?” I ask.

“Dresser.”

“In our room,” I state, confused.

“That means you’ll have to clean up your mess.”

I huff, “I will, I promise.”

“I also have a beautiful china cabinet of my grandmother’s if you want to use it but you don’t have to.”

I don’t remember seeing a china cabinet at his place. “Where is it?”

“In storage. Everything is in storage.”

“Oh.”

“We can go over there this weekend and look to see if there is anything you might want.  I have a leather sectional in there too.”

“That works for me but I do have one condition.”

“What?”

“You hire or beg somebody else to help you.”

“Done. You have puny muscles anyway.”

“I do not have puny muscles.” I reach up and lay my hand on top of his important man muscle and tap my fingers.

He leans up. “You're right, you're Hercules.  Excuse me, I know how busy you’re going to be cleaning your room so I’ll get somebody else to help.”

I put my head back down. “That’s much better.”

****

On Saturday we drive out to the storage facility. He punches in a code and pull through the gate once it slides open.  He drives through several sets of buildings until we reach the last one on the left.  He turns off the SUV and grabs a set of keys out of his ashtray.  “If you don’t like something, don’t feel like we have to use it.  I’m keeping all this stuff until I decide what I want to do with it.”

I nod my head then realize he doesn’t see me because he’s unlocking the lock. “Okay, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

The large red metal door rolls up and he disappears inside a few steps and flips a switch.  My jaw falls open and I peek around some furniture. “All of this is yours?”

“Yeah, it’s hard to decide what to get rid of and what to keep.”

“It’s like a furniture store in here.  Where did it all come from?” I ask amazed.

Tank is frowning when he walks out of the building. “Some from my grandparents. I was the only grandchild on both sides so I got all their stuff.  Then my parents and apparently some of the stuff I had with Suzie.”

“What’s wrong?”

“My dad…” Tank shakes his head. “Mr. Frugal, never threw anything away and he knew the value of the furniture Suzie had bought.”

“Oh,” I say, even though I’m still confused.

“It’s just, I sold my house for a reason. I wanted to leave all those memories behind. Nothing we had material wise was important and he knew that. I told him to donate it all to charity.”

“Maybe he was and never got around to it.  I’m not upset in the least that her stuff is here, I promise,” I say trying to reassure him.

He kisses me softly and actually looks relieved as he said, “Yeah, maybe you’re right he didn’t have time to get around to it.  Well I’m going to sit up here in this comfortable chair while you look.”

I nod and step inside. Nothing against Suzie but I can immediately tell what stuff was hers.  It was delicate upholstered pieces of black furniture a little too high class for my taste and it really feels like it doesn’t belong among the other wooden pieces.  I touch numerous pieces of furniture as I walk in between them.  I stop when I come to a large beautiful china cabinet that’s old with beautiful carvings throughout and glass doors with a simple flower etched on each.  You could tell it has been used but it’s so eye catching, I really wanted to use it. I pull open a drawer and it’s lined with red velour. I step back and say to Tank, “If this is the china cabinet you’re talking about I would love to use it.”

He walks behind me and pulls me to him when his arm wraps around my chest.  He kisses my ear then says, “You would pick out the heaviest piece of furniture I own and decide you wanted it.”

I shrug my shoulders. “I have great taste, what can I say?  Was this your grandmother’s?”

“Yes, on my mother’s side.”

“I wish I could have met them.”

“They would’ve loved you.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

He releases me from his arms and as I continue to walk down the row I come to several dresser sets “Is there a certain one you want?” I call out to Tank.

“No just as long as I have somewhere to put my clothes I don’t care.”

“Well, I was thinking if we got rid of mine we could put this bigger set in its place. We would save some room by not having two separate dressers. What do you think?”

“You just tell me what we need to move and I’ll get it done.”

“I wish I had brought some paper to write all this down so we can keep it straight.”

“Hang on.” Tank leaves me standing next to the dressers. I continue to look as I wait for him to return.  “Here,” he says walking up behind me. “Just stick a sticky note on what you want and also make a list so I know what I’m looking for.”

It’s fun walking through all the furniture. I find an old wooden telephone table that I instantly love. It has a faded cushion in the seat and I smile when I think about all the years somebody sat there talking on the phone.
I have nowhere to put it but maybe I can think of somewhere
. I stick a sticky note on it
I may even get me a landline phone just for the table
. I smile then sigh and pick the sticky note back up. 

I see several small children’s toys hidden in the back and my heart aches for Tank.   I don’t dare mention it. He’s already upset with just seeing their furniture. I don’t want to make him miserable.

When we leave there I know we are going to have to make a mess out of my house to get it all straight.  We spend the rest of the afternoon cleaning and moving things around.  Then on Sunday after church we meet back at the house and have lunch.  My mom and dad come to help. My mother is in hog heaven cleaning and dusting.  I have to bite my tongue and roll my eyes a lot when she coughs or says “my word” numerous times throughout the afternoon. 

We get everything grouped together in the living room; we even sleep on the mattress on the floor of the living room.  The next morning I’m so exhausted it takes Tank waking me six times.  “You’re going to be late.”

I finally sit up and stretch. “Maybe I should call in today.”

“No, you need to go to work.”

I say sleepily, “Don’t you need another boss telling you what to do?”

“You can boss me when you get home and after all the furniture is moved.”

****

I sit at my desk at work watching the clock and sometimes I swear if I look away it’s moved backwards.  I fight very hard not to text Tank today and bother him while they are moving all the furniture.  Jessie helps keep me busy as we send texts back and forth while he’s stuck in Dallas on a layover.   I’m excited he’ll be home tonight. It will be late but still he can see all the new furniture.  I start praying at 4:30 Mr. Samford won't call me into his office with a last minute chore to do before I leave and thank the good Lord my prayers are answered because he doesn’t.  I’m by the time clock with my time card in my hand waiting for the clock to change to five.  I’m so excited I race out the door and home. When I pull up to the house only Tank's vehicle is out front.  I hurry quickly inside. I almost squeal with excitement as I see his leather furniture sitting in place of my old couch.  I, of course, kept my daddy’s old recliner.  I peek around the corner and where my empty wall used to be a beautiful china cabinet now sits.  Tank is under the kitchen table with Prima rubbing against him. He’ll push her away and she’ll come right back.  “What are you doing?” I ask.

“Trying to tighten this leg on the table. I thought we had it but it wobbled when we flipped it over.”

“Did you get everything moved?”

“Yeah they just left. It really helped we had cleaned everything up so all we had to do is put it in its place.”

“Who all helped?”

“Jagger and a couple of guys.”

“Jagger helped move furniture?” I ask, shocked.

He slides out from under the table and leans against the leg he was just tightening. “I have something I need to tell you and I know I should’ve already…”

“Okay???”

He quickly blurts out, “He’s my half brother.”

You could have knocked me over with a feather. “What?” He stands and closes the distance between us. I look at him searching his face to see if he’s joking but I don’t see a smile, only concern hidden in his eyes. “I—I don’t understand,” I stammer.

He moves a dining room chair beside me and I sit right down. He looks down at me and shrugs his shoulders. “We don’t tell people and I’ve been waiting to find the right time.”

“Right time?” I whisper.

He squats in front of me, “Look, after my mother died my dad and his mom were together for a while.  She… well… she was a prostitute and I didn’t find out about him until I was headed off to college.”

“So he’s your brother?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t tell people.”

“I know you don’t get it right now but listen, I found out about him by accident.”

“I thought he was older than you?”

He shakes his head. “Almost two years younger.”

I lean my arm against the back of the chair and rub my head. “Does Flame know?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure she does.”

“So
do
you ride a motorcycle?” He shakes his head. “You’re just able to go out there because you're family.”

“Pretty much.”

“Then why were you so worried about me going out there?”

“I called and he told me I had to come in to talk about it. He won’t discuss anything over a cell phone that is business related or about Flame. While you were there did you see anybody on a cell phone?” I think about it then shake my head but I wasn’t really paying attention either while I was out there. He says again, “I told you he’s a security freak.”

“Were you going to tell me? About him?”

“Yes, I swear, babe.  I had planned to the night we got back from Weasel’s but it never seemed like the right time.”

“Can I tell Jessie?”

“Can I stop you?”

“If you asked me not to. I wouldn't tell him. I wouldn’t like it, but I’d do it.” 

“I don’t care if Jessie knows.”

I sit quietly a few moments trying to soak this all in. “Is that why he moved here?”

“Yeah, dad left him all the land out that way.”

“Was she from here?”

“Who?”

“The… Jagger’s mom?”

“No, dad met her while he was out on the road.”

I rub my hands together and shake my head as I say, “I get it, I swear I do. But next time something is this big, even if the time doesn’t seem right, will you tell me?” He nods.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

I put on a happy face and try to pretend all is fine and it is fine except I haven’t fully wrapped my mind around it.  I’m in love with a man who has a very scary family and I’m not exactly sure how I feel about the new information.  I ask to help distract myself, “What’s left to do?”

“The bed is set up but needs to be made and then putting your clothes back in the dresser and me unloading mine from the car and putting them away.”

I reach up and scratch my head then say, “Alright I’ll get started on that.”

“Do you want to order a pizza for supper?”

I’m not hungry at all but I nod and say, “That sounds great.”

“Hey, are you alright?” Tank asks concerned.

“I’m fine.” He stares at me a few minutes. I grin at him and say, “I’m going to go make our bed.”

“Okay.”

I turn the corner to go to the bedroom and stop. There sits the beautiful little telephone table that I had fallen in love with. I turn around to ask how he knew I wanted it when he says, “I watched you admire it for a while then stick a sticker on it and take it off.  Babe, if you wanted it, then you needed it.”

“But I don’t have a reason for it. I don’t have a phone.”

“Why does happiness have to have a reason?” Happy tears hit my eyes and I quickly walk to him and hug him tightly.  My heart fills with more love for the man in my arms.

When I finally make it to the bedroom, I shut the door behind me as quietly as possible.  I pace back and forth wishing I could call Jessie but he’s on a plane on his way home.  I walk into the bathroom and stand in front of the mirror and ask myself, “What does it matter that he’s related to Jagger?”