In other words, it didn’t crush ice.
I said that bringing him beverages was my domain (which it was—once his behind was on the couch, it didn’t move), so I would be utilizing the fridge as much as him and I wanted the deluxe model that crushed ice.
Shy informed me that we were not going to spend extra money on having the ability to crush ice when we could spend it on something important, like saving up to build on to the garage so he could tinker with his bike there.
In other words, he wanted a man cave, not crushed ice.
I told him that after getting my money back from Lee Nightingale and putting it into outfitting our home, we were balanced partners and we should do something with the money that was balanced, say, a crushed ice mechanism on a deluxe fridge that we both could enjoy.
Shy said he didn’t give a f**k about crushed ice but he did give a f**k about his bike. He also took this opportunity to point out that I also gave a f**k about his bike, like, in a big way.
This ticked me off mostly because he was right.
Therefore, I had no ready response, and as I was trying to come up with one, Shy threw out that he also didn’t give a shit about balance. He told me, even if I didn’t get that money back, we were square. What was his was mine, what was mine was his, he didn’t keep track or keep score, and we weren’t starting out a life where I did either.
Although I liked it that he thought this, he communicated it in a bossy way that ticked me way the hell off, so I told him to stop being so bossy.
He told me I sucked bossy dick and never complained unless I wasn’t getting my way, so I needed to get over it.
Of course, at this, my head nearly exploded, so I promptly ended the conversation by retreating into it and freezing him out for three days, which was difficult seeing as we were living together. That said, I put a lot of effort into it so I succeeded. This, not surprisingly, caused him to lose his mind. My deep freeze ended in a blowout that ended in really great sex and, right after that, Shy telling me a story that sorted me out.
“My mom and dad both worked, sugar,” he told me, lying on top of me on the living room floor, still inside me, his thumb tracing my hairline. “She didn’t make a lot. He didn’t make a fuss. It wasn’t about that. It wasn’t about balance or partnership or sharing. It was about unity. They didn’t keep score, they just gave, and I figure that was why they didn’t fight. Because if you give, the other person is gonna give because they get that back. So the balance comes natural. I put the money down on the house. You vacuum and clean the toilets ’cause I hate that shit. So, baby, we already had balance before you kicked in with your cash. You just didn’t see it. And as far as I’m concerned, that’s always gonna be the way. I’m gonna give to you, Tabby, ’cause I love you. You’re gonna do the same. You just gotta feel the natural balance, not work for it.”
There were sometimes I hated it when he was right, like, say, when we were shouting at each other.
There were other times I loved it. Like, say, when he was inside me after giving me an orgasm or when he told me sweet stories about his parents. The best was, like just then, when I had both.
So, obviously, after that, the fight was over.
And, by the way, we got the fridge that crushed ice.
I came out of my thoughts and back to Tyra.
“What are you saying? Marriage? Babies?” I asked.
She nodded and replied, “It’s time. You’ve been together for a while, and Shy’s awesome with the boys. It’s clear he loves kids, and I know this because he loves my boys like they’re his own little brothers, and he acted like that even before you two got together. I’m not saying you have to get married if that’s not your thing. But you two need to be on the same page about both, since they’re important.” She tipped her head to the side and asked, “Have you talked about it?”
We hadn’t and she knew that. She now knew (nearly) everything about Shy and me.
So I had a feeling this topic of conversation came up because of something else. I also had a feeling I knew what that something else was, since Shy and I were babysitting because Dad and Tyra went out with Hop and Lanie that night.
Therefore, I asked, “Um… Ty-Ty, where’s this coming from?”
She hesitated before she replied, “Big stuff, honey. Too big for now after I’ve had a few margaritas and it being so late. Tomorrow, I’ll give you a call and fill you in.”
As ever with anything Lanie, even just stories, I was looking forward to being filled in. Especially when it had to do with Hop now that they were “out” just like Shy and I.
Suffice it to say, Lanie still took drama to extremes, and apparently Hop got off on that much like Dad enjoyed Ty-Ty’s attitude. I had to admit, Hop and Lanie were kind of cute, because Hop seemed happier than I’d ever seen him, and Lanie had that light back in her eyes that had died when her fiancé Elliott bought it. No way, looking at them separately, would you think they worked, but they totally did.
“I’ll wait for your call but tell me now, is everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. Everything is good.” She smiled a small, knowing smile. “Hop is willing to do anything to make his woman happy. He’d walk a tightrope with no net if she was on the other side, cheering him on. And he just proved what we already knew, and he did that in a big way.”
This, I’d noticed watching those two, was the God’s-honest truth.
This, I noticed right then, made Tyra Allen happy.
“Though, Lanie feels the same about him,” Tyra added.
I’d noticed this too.
“Back to you, though, just to repeat, it’s crucial that you and Shy agree about important life stuff.”
She was right about that.
Tyra hooked her arm in mine, got close, and moved us slowly down the hall toward the kitchen.
“You don’t have anything to worry about,” she said. “I know another man who’d walk a tightrope. It’s just, you seriously butted heads over crushed ice. You may need to share your thoughts about holy matrimony and what you foresee with building your family.”
She was right about that too. There had been heartbreak and drama, and now Shy and I were coasting on a wave of goodness broken only when we fought about fridges, or his bossiness hit the danger zone and we had to have words. We hadn’t talked about any of this, and it was important.
“He wants to build a family,” I told her.
She stopped us before we hit the kitchen and looked at me. “I know that, honey, but he could be thinking six kids while you’re thinking two.”