The Gemini

33 - And The Bomb Goes....

January 1, 1989
1:17 a.m.

Jody couldn't see for the tears that filled her eyes. Couldn't feel for the numbing liquid that circulated throughout her system. Any minute now she would probably blackout. That minute wasn't coming fast enough for her, she had enough. She just wanted it to be over already.

December 25, 1988

"Did you get it?"

"Yes but I haven't even opened it yet."

"Open it, Ill wait."

The short slender rectangular box that Jody held in her hand was wrapped in red with a bow of green. Duane delivered it just before the telephone rang.

Neatly tearing away the paper, she removed the top. "Aw, honey." she gushed.

The piece of jewelry nestled inside was a necklace; a delicate gold chain. Hanging from it was a tiny golden angel wings pendant accented with rubies.

"Merry Christmas, baby."

Yesterday morning Roger phoned her and told her that he wasn't going to be able to make it back for the holiday. The flight out was delayed and eventually cancelled. Jody was bummed but relived in the same. While it was true that she missed him, her body still wasn't cooperating with nature.

That was until this morning anyway.

Heaven smiled down and gifted a Christmas miracle. She squealed, she cried, she would've completed the trinity with a happy dance but she knew that this didn't mean shit. There was still at least a half chance that she could be pregnant. It had been an eight day wait all together. Just to be absolutely sure that she was in the clear, after these three days, Jody was going to take a test and pray for the best.

"Do you like it?"

Putting it on, "I love it! I could kiss you all over."

"Don't tease me, mama. I'm dying over here." he complained minorly miserable.

That was another thing she felt bad about. They hadn't had sex since the kidnapping. Jody had been too out of sorts to even think about getting hot. At one point, she wasn't the only one with an attitude.

In total Roger called her three times yesterday. The first time was to tell her about the cancelled flight. The second time was somewhere around early evening. The conversation was brief and as always it began right at the point.

"In a car going 250 miles an hour, how long do you think it'll take me to get there? Twenty minutes?"

"What about traffic?"

"I'll drive on the sidewalks."

"Car's too big."

"I'll ride a motorcycle."

"And get helmet hair?"

After a thinking pause, "I've always been a fast runner.'

"You'll break a heel."

Silence.

"I have to buy a motorcycle." He hung up.

The third call came through at her 2 a.m., his midnight. She questioned what was taking him so long to get to Chicago. He responded that the motorcycle dealership "Didn't have any purple ones in stock."

From there he filled her in on what was going on his side of the country. Excitedly told her about his meeting George Clinton and then that he filmed another music video. "Scandalous. You were my choreographer."