I told her, "It's great to be here, Janelle, and I got to tell you, this time I promise I learned my lesson and I ain't never going back. From now on, I'm gonna keep my hands clean, and get me a place nearby so I can see you, Andrew, and the boys regular. How old are they now? They gotta be in their 20s, right?"
Andrew chuckled, "They stopped being boys a long time ago, Sonny. Steven's 28, and Brad's 30, both of them are married, and each one of them has a daughter of their own. You're a grand-uncle now! Come into the dining room and meet the family. They've been waiting for you!"
On the one hand, I felt bad that I'd mostly missed the boys growing up. They were good boys, smart like their father. On the other hand, they never forgot about me in prison. They'd send birthday and Christmas cards, and even write me letters once in a while. I walked into the dining room, heard their voices shout, "SONNY" and was immediately crushed from both sides by their dual embrace.
Once they turned me loose so I could breathe, they introduced me to their wives. Brad's wife was a tall, freckled redhead with a curvy figure, and she was holding a little girl a few months old. She shook my hand and said, "Hi, I'm Darlene, and it's very nice to meet you Uncle Sonny." She held the baby up a little bit; and the kid had light red hair just like her mama. "This is your grand-niece Amelia."
I tickled her under her chin, and she gave me a smile. "Hello, little bit," I said, then Steven stepped up with his wife. She was shorter than Darlene, about 5'6", dark-haired and girl-next-door-adorable, holding a baby who looked about the same age as Brad's daughter. The smaller woman extended her hand, and I shook it.
"Hello, Uncle Sonny, I'm Steven's wife Misty. It's a pleasure to meet you, Steven and Brad both tell such great stories about you." In between my stretches in jail, I had managed to do a few fun things with the boys while they were growing up. I was glad to hear they'd had some good memories of me at least. Misty held up her baby, "And this little flower is Lynnette, Amelia's cousin."
I held my hand out to tickle her, and the baby immediately grabbed my forefinger with surprising strength for a little one. She had an intensity to her, that was for sure. I said, "Wow, you got a powerful little girl here!"
"I like to think so, it runs in the family," her mama said. I noticed Misty and Darlene both had a light sexy Louisiana-style accent.
"You and Darlene both got the same accent, were you raised in the same place?"
Darlene answered, "Misty and I grew up around New Orleans, we're half-sisters." I was surprised, my nephews married half-sisters and both had babies about the same time. This couldn't just be coincidence, there had to be a hell of a story behind it.
Misty explained, "We got the same daddy, but different mamas. Darlene's mama ain't here, but this is my mama." A woman I hadn't seen before walked out of the kitchen, carrying what looked like an egg and cheese casserole, and as she set it on the dining table, Misty introduced us.
"Uncle Sonny, this here's my mama Nicki Lynn Chantelle. Mama, this is Steven's uncle, Sonny Montello." I couldn't tell how old she was, but it was no exaggeration that this woman could have been Misty's older sister; the same facial features and height except with dark naturally curly hair, tied in a ponytail and long enough to reach the center of her back.
Nicki Lynn wore a bright yellow blouse with tight jeans that clung to her hips quite nicely. Unlike Misty, whose skin had a light mocha tone, her mother's skin was a bit darker, more of a dark honey brown. Combined with her dark brown eyes, she was quite the alluring package.
Smiling, she held out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Sonny. This is my first trip to California, and I must say after meeting Steven's side of the family I'm impressed with what a handsome bunch you Montello men are."
I gently shook her hand, and was suddenly overwhelmed. Her face was as lovely as her daughter's; although physically she was the polar opposite of Janelle, she was still breathtaking. I'd heard the phrase 'smoldering presence' a time or two, but now I was seeing it firsthand. Even though I'd been behind bars and away from women for 7 years, I don't think it affected my perception that Nicki Lynn Chantelle was one of the most attractive women I'd ever met.
Just standing in front of her, her presence felt almost tangible, an invisible force like gravity. Whatever it was, it swept over me. I realized that for the first time since I'd met Janelle, I was looking at someone who was equally as attractive as my sister-in-law. The stirring I felt in my trousers made it clear to me that my feelings definitely did not stop at friendship.
Abandoning any pretense of nonchalance, I answered her, "Thank you for the compliment, Ms. Chantelle, the pleasure is all mine, I assure you." Although I'd spent a lot of time in the prison exercise yard, for some reason I now felt a little weak in the knees. I pulled out a chair for her. "Please have a seat. Allow me to be your waiter, Mrs. Chantelle. I'll get you a glass of juice or a cup of coffee, whatever you please."
"A glass of juice would be delightful, Mr. Montello, and please call me Nicki."
"If that's the case, then you have to call me Sonny. My real name is Santo, but nobody's called me that since our parents passed away." I noticed Nicki's accent seemed to be from somewhere other than New Orleans. Like Darlene and Misty's accent, it was certainly exotic, but not the same and I couldn't place it. Nicki was definitely a mystery, wrapped in an enigma.
The food now on the table, we settled in to share a great meal and chat. Janelle made ham and egg casserole, cinnamon rolls, fresh fruit, pancakes, while Darlene had whipped up a Cajun dish she called 'grillades and grits', along with some sweet potato biscuits. After being a guest in a California cellblock hotel for so long this was heaven, and I ate until I was about to burst.
While I was stuffing my face, everybody else was making small talk amongst themselves. I didn't have much to say, but really enjoyed just listening to them talk about normal things instead of inmate talk, which was 99.9% bravado and bullshit. I also enjoyed being seated next to Nicki, and she caught me looking at her several times.
Maybe it was my imagination, but Nicki Lynn seemed to be going out of her way to lightly brush up against me every time she walked past while helping Janelle do the serving. And damn, she smelled good! This was nothing like the penitentiary, that's for sure. It was good to be home.
As we were sipping our after-brunch coffee, she finally said to me "I saw you glancing at me several times while we were eating, Sonny. I'm just curious exactly what you find so interesting about a 50-something year old woman like me?"
The room was suddenly quiet, and I realized every adult around the table was waiting for my response. Fair enough. I was Sonny Montello, damn it, and this was my chance to remind them of who I was.
I leaned back in my chair and casually gestured towards her. "Frankly, Nicki Lynn, I know we just met, but there's not a damned thing about you so far that I don't find interesting. You strike me as a strong, intelligent woman, and just like my brother, strong and intelligent just happens to be my type. I just met Darlene and Misty as well, but knowing my nephews I'm guessing their wives are strong and intelligent, same as you." My words seemed to please her, so I pressed my advantage.
"One thing I got to ask: I love your accent, but it don't sound like Darlene and Misty's. Where's it from?"
When Nicki answered her smile was sweet, but her dark eyes were suddenly intense. "My maiden name is Lemke; my accent is from the Roma people, who most people think of as 'gypsies'. This is a derogatory term dating back to when the Roma people left India in the 11th century; because of their darker complexions, Europeans mistook them for Egyptian. The word has been used to describe the Roma people through centuries of oppression." Wow, ok, this woman was sure taking me to school!
The lesson continued, "My given name used to be Nikolina, until I was 15; I Americanized it so my classmates wouldn't use it as an excuse to bully me. I grew up in Baton Rouge, then after high school I moved to New Orleans. I spent my single days telling fortunes, casting spells, and selling love potions to tourists on Bourbon Street until I married Misty's father. This was right after he'd divorced Darlene's mother."
She shook her head. "Frankly, I should have known better than to trust Silas Chantelle. After years of marriage to me, that cheating bastard Silas got his much younger girlfriend pregnant. When he gave me the divorce papers, he told me he was leaving me because I was no longer woman enough for him, since I was getting too old to make babies."
I couldn't believe my fuckin' ears, and I didn't sugar-coat my reaction. "Not woman enough? That's a big pile of horseshit, Nicki. You're about the finest example of a woman I ever seen." I looked at Andrew and punched him in the arm, "Between Nicki and Janelle, the two hottest women in California are sitting right here at this table, ain't that so, little brother?"
