The All-American “Nanahood”!

Someone welcomed  me to the All-American “Nanahood” today…As mentioned before, I am going to be a grandmother.  My mind flooded with emotion when we found that my baby, Kevin, is having his own baby–and it is a boy…He will arrive onto this troubled orb sometime around 27 July 2012.  I’ve looked at the significance of the date in History, and then decided I’ll wait until he gets here to deal with that post…However, I will let it be known now that I thank God he is not coming in November or December since those are the months that his father, his two uncles and I have birthdays and everyone is always freaking broke because Christmas is RIGHT AFTER!  ***I am rejoicing there! Seriously!***

Being that I have raised 3 sons, I can deal with this little guy fairly well!  He’s going to be raised on football, baseball, Shakespeare and Heavy me–I mean several genres of music. Above all, he will learn to watch the sky and know what the changes mean,  as well as how to hear the 4 winds.  He’ll know the differences between the birds. He will also know to thank the universe for what is given to him.  If we are ever by the ocean again, he’ll learn to watch the tides.   All of these things I learned, and more.  To those who do not understand this, it would seem to be useless but I have never been  harmed by tornadoes and such yet…NO weather man can predict the weather like this family can anyway.

Have a great week!

All that I Am–Still Unbroken

Today I found a plastic bowl that one of my boys stained up by using it in the microwave oven…They used something with tomato in it because I could tell by the stain.  I started to throw the thing away, but couldn’t make myself do it.  It elicited a train of though from me that I haven’t had in a long time.

People are quick to toss out things they view as “useless”.  This includes people.  People who may have had things happen to them.  Most know my story so I won’t repeat it, but sharing it has cost me a great deal. People assume that girls who go through what I endured are “damaged” and they want nothing to do with the issue .  There are those who simply wish I wouldn’t talk about it because it disturbs their comfort zone.

Oh well, so be it.  The fact of the matter is that I have decided that I have endured much of the abuse I suffered as a child because some other kid might not have survived it long enough to tell the tale.  If telling my tale helps one child, then the critics and naysayers can all quite frankly kiss my ass.

This “damaged” vessel tells kids that they should never be afraid to keep telling someone until they are listened to.  Period!

I have ended relationships because I could tell that the man I was with had a problem with how I deal with my own issues. Most of them didn’t want to “share me” anymore. They began to isolate me from family and friends and I know exactly what that leads to because my own abusers did the same thing to me as a child–so yes, I know the warning signs and I don’t fall for those lines any longer.

On the other hand, I know that one day another person will cross into my path that will realize that the person I am today is in spite of what happened to me–not because of what happened.  I could have done a 180 and became a totally cruel, sardonic bitch, but I didn’t. I did become a realist.  When a person takes the time to accept me as I am, he will have my heart–and not a minute sooner. He will encourage rather than abase me.  He will lift me up rather than knock me down emotionally.  And he will work alongside me rather than try to constantly control me.  He will let me fly rather than try to put me in his cage. In short, he won’t try to turn me into a creature that I can never be–and I will  return to him that kindness.

By the way, I didn’t toss the bowl since it will come in handy–and besides, it’s less crap for the landfill.  One of these days people will learn that ceramic bowls may break, but they are easier to clean. Once broken, you have to toss them.

That being said, here is one of the most beautiful rock ballads I’ve heard in years.  Johnny Rzeznik (of the Goo Goo Dolls) knows how to craft a lyric…I think it proper to close with this.

I will never be broken.

Killing Time–and the Wisdom of Beavis and Butthead, and the “Breakfast Club”

One of the most horrible things about living in our world is that we are slaves to a bloody clock.  Our days are divided up into segments of 24 hours rather than from sunrise to sundown.  If I ever have my way, my day will go back to the natural way it was meant to be.   To be honest, I am mainly tired and ill in bed with the flu as I type this, but I still will type  away.

However I am grateful for all of this because it gives me so much time to reflect.  It gives me time to sit back and just BREATHE.  I love life.   I love the opportunities that are opening up for me–and they are there.  I see them on the dream board I’ve been building onto and adding to for over a year.  Time, reflections and travel are recurring themes on it and I know it will come to pass.

I constantly think outside the box. I’ve never had the opportunity to really study the arts which I find to be fascinating, but I did have the opportunity to read many books, which breathe life into many a subject–if they are able to keep my interest longer than some of the people I have met.  Because of a lot of drama and trauma, I was the reclusive creature in my younger years.  I was a lot like Ally Sheedy‘s character in “The Breakfast Club” too–minus the stealing.  I couldn’t draw like she could–but I could write.  That was my escape from the cruel world in which I lived. I find that this fan made video featuring the character of Allison Reynolds was perfect:

To me that was the character, that in real-life, who was probably the most misunderstood and (most likely) misguided among them all.  No one knew what went on in her head until she acted on it.  She didn’t share much until later.  No one knew what pain she went through outside of the school-house walls.  I wonder where she would be in a class reunion today?  I know where I am–usually…Notably absent and with reason.

This is what Allison and I needed to hear when we were younger…Maybe one day if she hasn’t already–we will hear this from SOMEONE:

I dreamed of one day having the courage to even get in front of people again, which I now have.

“…I am I myself alone…I realize I never need to use no one–money, power, holy roads…Freedom puts my faith in none of the above…”–Duran Duran (From ‘None of the Above‘)…

I can so relate to that song. You can hear it in its entirety here:

I lived that song and I really would like to cover it with an all female band…Growing up in the south has been confining in some ways, but very free in others.  Now before all my Baptist relatives and friends start sending me e-mails, I will say this.  All that song says to me is that we are all responsible for our own paths in life and we have to choose those for ourselves.  Many of us were brought up to be pleasing and accommodating, when in reality, it is that nature in some of us that made us so weak that we reach a breaking point.  We have to walk away in order to find our own answers at times–and it has nothing to do with whether we believe in a creator as much as it has to do with the fact that every person’s steps have to be directed from within.

It is when we follow our consciences that we often come up against stiff opposition from our families and communities and we are forced to conform and be accepted or go our own way and face their anger at their loss of influence over our everyday lives.  They learn to deal with it, just as we learn to deal with the fact that some will never accept us as we are as individuals.

My dad used to really get angry if I failed to call him at least once or twice a month.  One time he actually called the sheriff of the county I live in thinking that I went missing.  I love him to this day for that.  I also miss him terribly, even though there were times he really got upset because he couldn’t influence certain decisions of mine–including who to vote for.  You see, if you don’t vote the way the family thinks you should vote, they think you come close to being a candidate for a frontal lobotomy for the simple fact that you break family traditions–at least it seems that way sometimes!

What blew his mind is when I actually would show him how people he supported actually voted on the issues. After that, he never voted a straight party ticket either–at least I do not think he did.  It was also after that day he finally accepted the fact that I march to my drum and he didn’t have to worry over it.

As I was growing up, women were still being raised to be home-makers…Well, I didn’t exactly fit the mold.  I worked and raised my kids.  Sometimes it involved having 2-3 jobs.  Again, my life was ran by a clock.  People would say “budget your time”…I’d say, “You are so full of it. I work 2 jobs, attend college and am raising kids.  I only have an allotment of 8 hours to budget for sleep–and that is if one of my kids isn’t sick!”

After some of my “friends” had kids of their own, they figured out what I meant.  I wouldn’t trade those days for anything.  They molded me into who I am today.  When I am home sick, my boys get me chicken soup and Gatorade! Gatorade!  The fix all for everyone’s ailments and/or injuries (according to them)!  I think they got that off of Beavis and Butthead to be honest…Want proof?  Here it is!  Here is a clip from the “Dog Bite” episode!

Well, anyway, just because they are grown now, doesn’t mean that things change.  They still need Mom from time to time and it makes her feel pretty good–even though they don’t know it!  I keep it to myself a lot.  When they get sick, I tend to look in on them, but God Forbid that I actually get them medicine!  They refuse to take it for some reason–unless it’s REALLY serious enough to have antibiotics for.  Maybe more of that Comanche blood is in them than I thought!

Well, anyway, life is good…I am happy and I love my boys–as well as my unborn grand child…

I’ll know whether to buy for a boy or girl on the 28th and I’ll spill the beans for sure!  Take care and have a great weekend! I only hope that all the other Allison’s in the world find this sense of peace…

Reality #1: There Has to Be a Me…

At this moment you look in my eyes looking for an answer that you will not find

I left here so many moons ago knowing that I would now have to stand alone

and now you seem to have tracked me down though I didn’t want to be found

And what will you do when you find that you have lost the you that I knew?

You can’t run away from your lies for they are written in both of your eyes

and I can see the next lie is to be the one where you say you love me

but I know it’s a line that you play-that you’ve learned how to really convey

so I’ll walk toward a trail I know where no one else is allowed to go

It is there I find my soul is free far away from prying eyes for all to see

My shelter is in the very heart from the point of the comet’s start

and it hides me in every star above for in my universe is love

Though you’re not the one for me I know that I will first love me…

Before there ever is a we with one, there has to be a me…

Before there ever is a we with one, there has to be a me…

RIP: Whitney Houston 1963-2012

I am deeply saddened over the death of Whitney Houston. I never met her, but she was a part of my 1980’s youth–and I sang her songs to my children and listened to Dionne Warwick and Aretha Franklin both growing up. My sons are grown now, but they have no idea how she affected so many with that angelic voice. My heart goes out to her friends and family at this time. I just got home from work and I’m still numbed by the news. I couldn’t sing songs tonight I normally do when I went to my usual gig either because I KNOW I would have cried midway. I will say this though….Tomorrow will be a new day–but it won’t be any less sad than it is right now. RIP Whitney.


This is how I would like to remember her...She's in the arms of the angels now...



I Cannot Hold This Inside Any Longer

What I am about to say is probably going to upset people closest to me and at this point it does not matter.  I do not believe in living a lie and refuse to be pressured into going along with a mob mentality that is prevalent in the churches and in the streets.  I am an angry woman. I am angry because nobody in this country is taking care of their families and their own affairs before they put their nose into someone else’s business.

While I agree that the Constitution should be upheld, and the SOPA and RDAA rulings are nothing but a design to help enslave Americans, it is the public that is doing the job better than our government is.  America is becoming enslaved by the divisions within itself and it’s time to give BOTH major parties the boot… You have races hating each other for the color of their skin.  Neither party works to help Americans fix that. You have groups hating each other because they believe differently and you have groups hating women for having the courage to point these things out.   Yet nobody in our body of leaders wants to work to address the issues of the divisions that are destroying this nation. When I say “you” I am speaking of America as a people but if you are a bigoted individual,  you will know who you are by the end of this post.

You have Christians hating Atheists and Atheists hating Christians…Just to note:  A Christian who hates ANYONE is not a Christian and that goes for Rev. Wright, The Westboro Baptist Church and any other nut fringed and nut led religious group we hear about. Why not drop the labels and unite as Americans long enough to deal with the more important issues at hand, like keeping our basic rights to assembly, free speech and such in tact?  As long as those rights are kept in tact, this nation will remain strong but when those rights are removed, then this nation becomes in danger of being governed by those who crave absolute power and they will use the division of the American people to get it–and believe it or not, they are doing a damned good job at this point.

If people would mind their own business, believe what they want to and QUIT TRYING to force different belief systems on each other, we’d all be better off.  I am sick and tired of religion being pushed in school under the guise of “cultural education programs”.  IF you are going to teach foreign languages, they should be electives–not requirements. Most people will never live beyond US borders by their own choice so why force them to learn Arabic, Spanish or any other language they don’t want to learn? We certainly do not force anyone else to learn our language.  Make this all elective and save some tax dollars. But wait! That might make sense.

By the same token, I am tired of those who are in the extreme atheist fringe who sue to keep those of any faith out of political life. Yes, they are out there.  If there is to be true separation of church and state, then the Atheists cannot be allowed to force agendas either because of the free exercise clause.  The Constitution never gave anyone the right to not be offended whether they are of a faith or not. Solution: Stop the lawsuits and tell people to mind their own business because both groups pay taxes, therefore they can gripe and moan about whatever they want in public, and if they want to pray in public, it’s their business. Their taxes pay for their right to do so…

Now let’s discuss the thorn in every conservative’s side…Gay marriage.  No marriages are gay. In fact many married couples I know in the conservative world do nothing but argue and gripe about everyone else and are so miserable, I tell them they should get divorced.  They get pissed off because they say it’s “a sacred vow”–but I tell them if they don’t love each other, there is no more “vow” to break because they already broke the main one–you know–to the one where they said they would  “love, honor and cherish” each other? They really hate it when I point it out, but it’s messing up their kids to stay together in a situation like that.

If a same-sex couple wants to marry and such–let them.  IF the god of the bible is true, judgment will begin with the “House of God” and that means the Christians will get theirs long before anyone else.  Why bother?  It is not your job to tell anyone how to live. God (and yes I do believe in God) gave man a free will to choose his own path.  He also did not make you judge and the sole arbiter of one’s fate.  It’s certainly not my job to do his job.  That being said, I am closing with this clip from the “Ellen DeGeneres Show”.  She hit the nail on the head.  People really need to get over all this hatred because it is destroying this country, or as I should point out, what is left of it.

People  will love this post or they’ll want to burn me at the stake for it and I do not care.  It is our children and grandchildren who will pay the price for this stupidity if people don’t knock it off in this country.  I see little appreciation from people for what our country’s founders created, and even less for those that sacrifice themselves to support it, but that’s a WHOLE new topic…Later…

Note:  I have many friends who are atheists, gays, etc…and they have no problem with my stand which is this: IF everyone is minding their OWN business and letting people be who they are, then we won’t end up putting our nose in another country’s affairs and telling them how to live because we’ll be too busy cleaning our own nation up first!  I hope it makes sense, but if  not, I’m used to it…

Perceptions of Those Who Are Different From Ourselves…

How do our fears and perceptions affect how we view others?  Can’t answer that? I can…Society tends to view disabled people as inferior, regardless of the physical condition.  They are not inferior.  They have a unique world view because of how they are seen, and they can offer us a lot, if we accept what it is they present to us.

A few years ago  I worked on a class project during which  I had to pretend I was mentally handicapped and go into different businesses to see who would assist.  Only 1 person in 10 assisted. The rest were intimidated by the speech impediment I presented and age level at which I was asking questions (adolescent).   I went to fast food places, Beall’s, JC Penney, and Wal~Mart.  The staff who were the most patient and willing to assist were in Wal~Mart, Barnes and Noble and at Starbucks!   The hardest part to do was pretending to cry in the mall because I couldn’t find my “guardian”.  Most walked by, but one person walked with  me to security, where they called the rest of my study group…Code name for them was “Red Williams”.  It sure changed my perspective on how society views others who are differently-abled  to do that project.

At five of those places, I was required to use the electric cart to shop and ask for help. Again, Wal~Mart, JC Penney and Barnes and Noble came through!   Other places of business were downgraded by 10 points for the following behaviors, walking off and saying “I’ll be right back.” and then no one would come back after 5 minutes,  refusing to call for help when I made it “obvious” that I was lost, etc…

Differently-abled should be the term we use to describe them. Maybe as a society, we will become more inclusive if we actually change our view on the subject.  I know that this project taught me much about how people think when it comes to the subject. If you don’t believe me, try what I did and see how you are treated.  You will come away from it with a whole new perspective on how things SHOULD be as opposed to how they really ARE.

You Just Had to Ask Me…

Note: While I am on my “hiatus” of sorts from discussing certain things  on the blog, I hope you enjoy this interlude of a different story while I keep working on part 6 of “Centuries Under the Moon”–Kadja

The older man came to her and sat next to her…’Wanna dance?”  he asked, brushing back his salt and pepper hair from his face, which had just enough lines to reveal that he was a hard-working man with some determination.

“No. I don’t dance.” she said as she was trying to listen to the band, brushing her black bangs from her eyes.

“You don’t dance? Seriously?” he asked her.

“No. I don’t.  What part don’t you get?” she said firmly as smoke continued to fill the air–and he continued to invade her space…

“Wanna take a walk outside?” he asked.

“No.” she said again.

She had seen the wedding band and knew this guy’s drill.  She already knew there was no common ground with him, so she put her barrier between them quickly.  He was one of many that she had no use for–let alone a desire to get acquainted with.  She kept to herself–until she walked onto stage. Then she let it out.  All that angst–and the power to release it ignited her defiant soul more than ever as she shook her head to one side, her black hair moving away from her green eyes as she took that microphone into her hand.

She then went back to her booth, where a reporter she was expecting had been waiting.  He was a young man, close to her age.  Very good-looking, and he knew she was a tough one to interview. His editor had warned him about how she can be. Yet there she was–all 5’5″ of her.  He stood 6’1″.  When his brown eyes locked on her, he knew this woman was different from the others he’d had dealt with before and he knew that he’d better tread lightly.  Her bottle of Patron and a lit candle were waiting for her, along with two glasses.  She offered him a drink, which he accepted.  She noticed that the sandy colored locks this reporter had were a sharp contrast to Michael Redding’s well-kept black hair. She also liked it that he showed up in jeans and a T-shirt, and appeared to have not shaven in two days as opposed to Michael’s “everything has to be perfect” look.

“You have no one in your life?” he asked after they conversed for some time, talking about her upbringing in Oregon and her family–which she didn’t say much about–YET.

What difference does it make? I have plenty of people who support what I do and I don’t have time to limit myself in any way.  No man has ever loved me for the creature that I am so I fly solo and I sleep solo.” she responded.

“Even though Michael Redding is telling all who will hear him that he wants a relationship beyond friendship?” the reporter asked.

“As I said, what difference does it make?” she asked.

“He seems like a nice enough guy–”

“Which is why I’m doing him a favor by avoiding him this week since that is the public perception.” she mused.

“He’s heir to the Biotechna fortune.” the reporter said, puzzled that she would say such a thing when they seemed to be so close.


“But you two seem to go very well together in public–”

“That’s what he tells me.”  she said.

“You’re not going to tell me if you two are in a relationship, are you?” he asked.

“IF we were, I wouldn’t be interviewing with you alone in a darkened booth in a friggin’ bar.” she grinned, as shafts of light flashing into the booth revealed her dark red lips and pale skin.

“Do you have a hard time in relationships?” he asked out of curiosity.

“No because I never enter into arrangements with anyone. I don’t believe in it. If I want to play house, I’ll hire a gigolo.” she said sarcastically as a sheepish grin came across her face.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“People in this town hook up to find convenient arrangements for combining resources and such.  You will find that many couples in this business aren’t in love but they only stay together because they can tolerate each other.  In other words, they play house.  I know four couples right now who cannot say “I love you” to each other, which sucks because two of those couples brought kids into this bitch we refer to as our world.  Their teen children are screwed up because they know why their parents are together–just like mine were back in the heyday of this town.  No thank you.  Men who want that do not interest me. I’m not an investment or a breeding mare.”  she said.

“So you plan to avoid romance altogether? That seems rather sad.”  the reporter said.

“There is no such thing as romance–especially here. It’s all about appearances.  I don’t believe in romantic love anymore. Everyone in this town is about getting into an arrangement.  If they weren’t, you wouldn’t find so many of them screwing around on each other like my own parents did.” she said.

“You have been at odds with your parents for years.  Do you speak to them now?” he asked.

“Not very often.” she said.

“Why?  They seem like nice people–”

“My stepfather is one of the coolest people on the planet.  So is my dad. I cannot say the same about my mother or that bitch my father sleeps with and calls a wife.  I don’t care if you print that or not Mr. Jacobson.  I talk to neither of my parents since I had to go to court to get their hands off of my bank accounts.” she said.

“This is what the feud is over?  Money?” he asked.

“That’s what they WANT to think.  It’s not. It’s about their inability to live their own sick lives through their daughter and son.  They did the same to my younger brother.” she said.

“He committed suicide.” the man said.

“Yes.  AFTER dear old MOM cleared out his funds.  Then she sent part of it to dad via the stepmom and he says he never saw a dime of it although she admits she had it.”  she mused.

“Will you ever make amends with them? They seem to be reaching out to you now–”

“For more money. Here! I’ll prove it.” she grinned as she turned on her speaker phone.

“What’s up Ce Ce?” she asked her stepmother.

“Is this for another one of your business schemes–like the one that broke dad’s company?” she asked.

“No! It’s for your father’s eye surgery and I have no time for–”

“Well, if it weren’t for the lasik I’d send it but I know how you operate. You’d use it elsewhere.”  she said flatly.

“Come on! Reese, what is $15,000 to you?  We are your family–”

“Dad is my family. You are nothing.  He told me he was scrapping the lasik thing last week. Nice try, CeCe.” she said as she hung up.

“Mr. Whatever your name is–THAT is how my family is. Always with a hand out. Always a new lie.  She’s not half as bad as my mother is.  I’m surprised my step dad hasn’t left her ass.   She’s still paying back money she robbed from me.”  she said to him.

“So you’ve been robbed of your childhood, robbed of part of your fortune and robbed of what good in life you can have out of fear of being used?”  the reporter asked.

‘I am a corporation, am I not? I am used every day. Even Mr. Redding will tell  you that much.  I’m not marrying or moving in with him either–and you can print that in the papers, the book, I don’t care…  I like my space.  He asked me to marry him four times in three months, but when he sees my prenup he tries to skirt it so I don’t see him any longer.” she said.

“I just think it is sad that you can trust no one.  Off the record.  Why did you let me interview you?” he asked her.

“You just had to ask me.” she mused.

“I really want to know.” he said.

“Your name is Stephen Robinson and you work for the Herald, correct?” she asked.


“Then I chose you because you don’t bullshit. I like that.  I like that article you did on Tibet too.” she said.

“Why do I get the sense that this may head elsewhere?” he asked.

“I’m hiring you to write my biography.  Didn’t your boss tell you that?  IF you decide to do it, you’ll have the exclusive.  You’ll be traveling with me and my band mates–IF I decide to regroup.  You’ll see the good, the bad and the ugly–and the fugly too. ” she grinned.

“Is there anything about the “fugly” I need to know about?”  he asked.

“I have maybe a year to live and I want the truth out.  I’m making my will tomorrow.  I refuse medical treatment as my younger sister died of this particular blood disorder I have.  Here is the reality.  I will never have a normal life. I will never get married or be a mother…In short, you get to write about how f**ked up my life and my family really is.  I know you can bring it out the way it needs to be brought out.  You’ll also be there at the end.  My band knows nothing and neither does my family, my agent or my manager.  I don’t fear dying either. It is the only release I’ll have from the ongoing bullshit in my family anyway.” she said.

“This is a joke, right?” he asked.  Then he noticed as a faint shaft of light came across her face.  A tear had rolled down her cheek.

“I wish it were one of my f***ing jokes.  I would be laughing hysterically if it were.  However, I will leave them nothing. Absolutely nothing.  At the same time, I want to learn how to really live.  Does that make sense?”  she asked as her tone became more resolute and she wiped the tear from her cheek with the sleeve of her blouse.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I want to do what I have always been afraid to do–starting with bungee jumping. Go with me.” she said.

“Bungee jumping?” he asked.

“Bungee Jumping…Right after I get my will signed.  By the way, you are getting a hefty check for all of this shit.” she told him.

“What if you chicken out of the jump?” he asked.

“That’s what YOU’RE there for…To make sure I don’t, dammit.” she said.

“Oh so I’m a personal assistant to you now?  I am sorry but I don’t know how to–”

“Just bring whatever you need to write.  Don’t be anything less than honest either.  That is all I ask of you.” she said as she downed a shot of tequila.

“Look, Miss Harrison–”

“Look at it this way.  Either you write it or nobody else will.” she said flatly.

“I need to think this over and talk with my editor–”

“You’re getting exclusive rights to the story.  I’m paying you $150,000 to write it, plus 50% royalties in any film rights and such,  with a $50,000 advance  for your time.  He knows that.  Besides, you free-lance anyway. IF you want it in writing–”

“Miss Harrison, this is a huge assignment for me.  I need to think about it.  I was going to go to Nepal–”

“Which you’ll have plenty of time to do later because if it’s about the orphanage, I am part of that benefit taking place there.  All I am asking for is part of your time–not 24/7–unless you want to get the whole deal.” she said.

He didn’t have to think beyond 48 hours.  $150K for a year…Not bad and it’s not exactly chump change given the fact that other writers, at least in his mind, were superior to him.  Stephen Robinson knew this assignment would be life changing–but he had no idea how much.  He went to her house in Beverly Hills 2 days later.  When her maid answered the door, Reese was pouting on the stair case.

“TWO days…It took you two days to make up your mind?  I didn’t go bungee jumping either. Thanks for nothing.” she pouted.

“You didn’t need to do that right away anyhow.  Besides, I had loose ends to tie up.” he said.

“Whatever.” she mused as she stood up and went into her conservatory.  While the maid, Abigail, showed him to his room, she told him, “Mr.  Robinson, she is really mad about you taking two days.  She only goes in the conservatory and composes like this when she is angry. Just let her be for a couple of hours and she’ll be fine.  She’s furious with Mr. Redding too.” she warned him.

He was amazed by her choice of decor.  She stayed true to the history of the house, which was built during the early 1900’s.  There was an ornate fireplace in her den, another living area with a smaller one and huge bay windows that had a view of the pool. He noticed the bar and made particular note that everything in the rooms had solid colors–no patterns.  Abigail explained that she did the main rooms of the house in this fashion due to her sister’s epilepsy when she came to visit.  According to Abigail, almost any extreme pattern or something as simple as a flashing light could cause a seizure, so Reese was taking extra precautions.  She did have hanging crystals in her conservatory though and there was some pattern to that.

He loved the deep blue and silver accents and the  fabric adorned it.  There was no straying from the color scheme except to add grey throws to the chairs.  He was also keen to the scent of enchiladas cooking.

“Why? He’s crazy about her–”

“That’s what he wants her to think but she caught him two timing her a few months back when they was together.  He hit her when she refused to take him back. Now he wants her back again and she said very nasty things to him and told him to get out of her life–only she used more curse words.  She really fears him, Sir.” she said.

“Well, thanks for the heads up.” he told her.

“You seem like a nicer guy than he was.  I hope she takes a likin’ to ya!  She deserves some happiness after her mother pulled that stunt last week on her.”  she said.

“What stunt was that?” he asked.

“She tried to get control of her money again but the judge threw it out.  She’s 28 now and she can do what she wants and it just ticks her mama off.  She seems so sad lately though.  She doesn’t joke around much any more.  I’ve known her since she was 12.  Something is not right about her.”  Abigail said.

“Well I’ll see what I can do.” he said as he scratched his head.

When he unpacked, showered and shaved, Abigail was knocking at his door frantically…”Mr. Robinson please come!”

“What’s the matter, Abigail?” he asked as he opened his door after hastily putting on jeans and a T-Shirt. Then he heard the sound of crashing glass.

“She’s in a bad way again, Mr. Robinson–Mr. Redding made her mad again! They are down there arguing and I’m afraid he will slug her like he did before when they were together!”

As he entered the den she threw another vase at Michael yelling, “I told you to get the f**k out of my life and stay out! I meant it then and I damned well mean it now!”

“Look, Reese…I’m sorry you got hurt.  She means nothing to me,” he told her as he tried to get close to her.  She then pulled a letter opener out, “Don’t you dare come near me!” she yelled.

“Reese, you know you aren’t going to do that.  Put it down–”

“Back off dammit!” she yelled.

“I’m not going to hurt you again, Reese–”

“I think you’d better get the hell out of here.” Stephen said firmly to him.

“Oh…And who might you be? I think you’re the one who had better learn your place around me–”

“Anytime you feel lucky, bring it.,” Stephen told him, “But you will not bother her again.  I mean it.”  He saw that Reese still had the letter opener in her hand and she was shaking.

“You work for her?  Gee…Wait until you see how idiotic she is!  She thinks anyone who is with her has to be f***ing perfect! I screwed around on her one time and she  acts like she’s holier than thou! Maybe if she f***ing knew how to put out to a man, she’d be able to keep one–”

“Maybe if you were a man, I’d have stayed with your ass.” she mused.

“Don’t you talk to me like that! You’re the one who goes on tour after tour–”

“And bailed your ass out of a $7 million dollar debt.  We are done now get out!” she hissed.

He stormed toward the front door, “Reese, I’ll be back when you calm down.  We need to talk about this more–”

“I’m getting a restraining order. Abigail, call the police.” she said.

“Yes ma’am!” Abigail said as she went into another room and called them.

“So that’s the way you want it?” Michael asked her.

“For a long time now. Leave me alone!” she said.

“Fine! Don’t come crying to me when you can’t handle the pressure and shit!” he said.

“Oh I won’t. Believe me.” she said icily.

When Michael left, she sat down shaking as Abigail rushed over to her…

“Are you alright–”

“I am now that he’s gone.  I’ll get the restraining order. I’ve had it.” she said.

“I never would have thought him to be violent.” Stephen said.

“Welcome to just one aspect of my fugly world.” Reese said as she looked up into his eyes. It was then he saw the red mark on her cheek.

“Well, it shouldn’t be like that.” he said as he waited for the police to arrive in the foyer.  When they arrived, they wrote out a criminal trespass for Michael and took her statement.  She filed harassment and assault charges since Abigail saw Redding strike her.

“Well, it’s a good thing the media is already here because those reporters he has in his camp are going to make out like he’s just a friggin’ love-sick victim.”  Reese said.

“Good thing I am here, then. I’ll save it for the book though.”  Stephen said.

“Thank you. I appreciate that more than you know.  It’ll die down in a few days.” she said.

Within a few weeks, Stephen saw how she went about her daily routine.  Her songwriting habits and the various chew out sessions with her management and various band members often perplexed him but at times he laughed.  He found some of it to be rather amusing, and was becoming more drawn to her as she undertook charitable work.  They traveled to Nepal and to Costa Rica together where she saw the wildlife refuge and went bungee jumping with Stephen.

As the sunlight shone upon them and the warm tropical breeze embraced their beings, they were having a bit of a heated debate…

“You can’t be serious about doing this! There is plenty of other things to do in Costa Rica than risk our lives!” Stephen said.

“You’re kidding me, right? If the cord breaks and I die, at least I have nothing to lose.” she mused.

“Don’t talk like that! It isn’t funny!” he said to her.

“It is absurd and that is why I said it. I am merely trying to point out to you that there is nothing to be afraid of.  We’re not that high up and the water is 100 ft. deep.” she said.

“Not that high up? Look do—” she pushed him and jumped afterward.

“Shiiiiiiiiiiiiitttttt!” he screamed all the way down as she laughed.

They bounced a bit and he shot her a dirty look once they calmed down.

“Why the hell did you push me?! It’s not funny–” he protested.

“I didn’t have all day to wait on you to make your mind up.  I’ve got other things to cross off my list anyway! Why can’t you just admit that it was kind of fun?  You had to have felt a rush–”

“Oh yeah! The rush of DEATH!” he snapped.

“Exactly,” she beamed, “But if it makes you feel any better, my friend, I’ll never push you off  like that again. I promise!”

Something in her smile was rather infectious.  Something in her assertiveness was addicting.  HE finally cracked a smile at her again.

“Do you MEAN that?” he asked her.

“Not really.” she smiled as she winked at him.

“Oh shit…Whatever.” he said.