MANTRUM

by Jacob Chance

“Yep, that’s me. And FYI, I don’t give out tickets to people who don’t deserve them.”

  “So you say,” he mocks.

  Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him. “It’s true.”

  “Okay, let’s move past the ticket,” Teri urges us along before our bickering can get out of hand.

  “This guy was filming the two of us with his phone and he got mouthy toward Danika. I got mad and slapped him… twice.” The entire class releases a collective ‘ooh’ and he looks slightly chagrined. “There was another officer observing the situation. I was taken into custody and had to go to court this past Monday.”

  “Is coming here part of your restitution?” Teri questions.

  “No. I volunteered to take this class again at the suggestion of a family member.”

  So that’s why he’s here.

  “What about you, Danika? What brings you to our group?” Teri smiles.

  “I overreacted to the same situation as Rex. There was a woman who was also filming us and she wouldn’t stop. I shouted profanities at her. As a result, my sergeant is making me attend this class.”

  Teri watches me carefully. “Is that the first time you’ve had an issue with controlling your temper?”

  “At work, yes. I mean, I get angry like anyone, but I’ve never acted unprofessionally. This was a first.”

  “When you say you get angry like anyone, how does that anger manifest itself?”

  “It depends on the situation. If I’m alone, it probably consists of me complaining to myself.”

  “What if you’re in public?” Teri queries.

  “Then I take a deep breath and remind myself not to get worked up over insignificant things.”

  Teri nods approvingly. “What about you, Rex? What happens when you get mad?”

  He barks out a laugh. “I think we both know the answer to that question.”

  “Pretend we don’t. There are some new members and your input could be helpful for them,” Teri explains.

  “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with my temper. This world is just filled with assholes strategically placed so I come across them every single day.”

  Everyone laughs, me included. Even though I don’t want to.

  “I might be in the minority when I say this, but I like the way it feels when I get fired up. I like to curse and shout. It gets the heart pounding and helps the anger dissipate.”

  “What do you shout when you’re worked up?” Teri brushes her hair from her eyes.

  “Cunt, whore, motherfucker. Those are my favorites.”

  She grimaces. “Do you throw things when you’re having a tantrum?”

  “Tantrum?” he scoffs. “I don’t have tantrums. That’s what females do.”

  Teri raises one shoulder in a half shrug. “What would you call it, then?”

  He scratches at the dark scruff on his chin and smirks. “A mantrum?” I snort before I can stop the sound from escaping. Rex turns toward me. “What? A mantrum is when a guy gets upset and overreacts. It’s the male version of a tantrum.” A few chuckles ring out.

  “Did you make that up?” Teri grins.

  “I don’t think so. I mean, I don’t know if it’s a real word, but I’m pretty sure I’ve heard it before.”

  “Let's get back to the question you never answered. When you have a ‘mantrum’ do you throw things?” Teri redirects.

  “Sometimes.”

  “Give me an example of when you would be inclined to throw something.”

  “When I’m playing golf.”

  “You throw the ball?”

  “Once in a while, but I prefer to throw my clubs.” This guy really is nutso. Who in their right mind throws long, metal objects around other people?

  “Wait a minute. Aren’t golf clubs expensive?”

  “They are. But when I’m frustrated and angry I’m not thinking about how much I paid for them. And it’s much more satisfying than throwing a little ball.”

  “So it’s safe to say your anger makes it difficult for you to reason things out logically?”

  “Yes, sometimes.”

  “Give me another example of when you might throw something.”

  “If my TV is slow to change the channel or when I rewind something on DVR and it doesn’t stop when I want it to, I’ll chuck the remote.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that your remote might not be functioning at one hundred percent because you’ve thrown it too many times?”

  He presses his lips together, shaking his head. “Nah, it was like that from day one.” Teri smiles and I can tell she’s not buying his answer. “Why don’t you find another victim to question.” Rex winks at her.

  “How about if we discuss some coping mechanisms to use when you feel yourself cycling up.”

  “Danika, wait up,” Rex calls out, jogging to me. I keep walking without replying. I don’t like him and I’m not about to pretend I do. “Want to grab a bite to eat?” he throws the question out.

  “No, thank you.” Having just come from the anger management class, it serves as a great reminder how I need to focus on avoiding situations or people who get to me.

  “Are you sure? I’d like to get to know you better.” He’s persistent, I’ll say that for him.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. But it’s nice of you to ask.”

  “It would be even nicer if you accepted,” he retorts.

  Inhaling, I remind myself not to overreact. What is it about this guy that gets to me? I swear I can feel my blood pressure rising with his every word. Doesn’t he know how to take no for an answer? “I’m sure it would be, but it’s not going to happen.”

  “Ever?” He studies me as we walk through the parking lot.

  “Never ever.” I nod. Instead of getting irritated with my answer, he grins. His lack of reaction has me on edge.

  Hasn’t anyone said no to him before?

  Is he that confident with his ability to change my mind?

  Should I be worried?

  He’s not the first good looking guy to pay me attention. Okay, that’s a bad example because I married the first one who did.

  Clicking the keyless entry on my remote, I pause beside my car. He moves closer and I retreat, backing into the driver side door. He leans forward, placing our lips inches apart.

  “There’s nothing I like better than a challenge.” His smile is a wicked, white flash in the dim lighting of the parking lot. “I’ll see you soon, Danika.” He taps the end of my nose with his index finger and walks away.

  Standing in place, I watch his athletic gait until he pauses beside his pickup to look back at me. His lips part in a knowing smile. Spinning, I open the door and slip inside. Closing myself in, I lean back on the headrest, groaning out my frustration.

  Why does Rex have to be in the same class as me?

  I thought I’d never have to see him again. And now, I’m stuck with him for at least five more meetings. God, give me strength.

  6

  Rex

  The pounding of hammers and the whir of power tools are comforting sounds to me. My dad being a carpenter, he made sure I had a hammer in my hand as early as I could hold one. We built a birdhouse together when I was four, and from that point on, I was hooked.

  Making things is what I’ve always done and what I do best. Wood doesn’t talk back or disagree with me. I don’t have to make idle conversation or worry about its feelings. It’s a silent partner, patiently waiting for me to craft it into whatever I want. And even when something goes awry with a project, it’s unflappable when I rant. It doesn’t tell me to be quiet or get embarrassed because I’m being too loud. Wood accepts me the way I am, flaws and all.

  Too bad I can’t find a woman who’s as understanding.

  Danika pops into my head and I find myself smiling. She’s undoubtedly attractive, with her shoulder length blonde hair and serene green eyes. A sprinkle of freckles across the tops of her cheeks and nose adds an air of innocence, but her pouty pink mouth is sexy enough to stir up carn
al images. A perfect contrast of innocent and sex kitten, I find her endlessly captivating.

  I can’t wait to see her tonight. I’ve thought about her numerous times each day since we met. I’m eternally grateful to Adam for recommending Teri’s class to me. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have the opportunity to get to know Danika better. And that is one of my immediate goals. I have a feeling she’s going to fight me every step of the way, but no matter what, I’m not giving up. I want a chance to take her out on a date and show her what kind of man I am. She’s only seeing one side of me.

  “You ready to lift this into place?” Adam questions, pulling me back to the present where I need to be. The job site is no place to muse over a woman. I need to focus and save all thoughts of Danika for when I’m off the clock.

  “Yeah. Let’s do this.” Bending down, we both grab on to an end of the thick, rustic piece of wood that will serve as the new mantel over the enormous stone hearth. Setting it into place, Adam holds it there while I grab my drill, fastening it to the cleat with a handful of screws. I check to make sure it’s secure before stepping back to check out the finished product.

  “Looks great,” Adam states.

  I nod. “This large fireplace needed something substantial above it.” I run my fingers over the various shapes. “It’s hard to believe this stone work has stood the test of time for almost two hundred years now.” The house we’re working on was built in 1830. We’re salvaging what original details we can, but this house has been updated throughout the years. The last time was thirty years ago, so the kitchen and bathrooms appear as if they’re stuck in a horrible time warp. We’ll be tackling the kitchen remodel next, and first up is demo, one of my favorite parts. I love smashing and deconstructing things almost as much as I love creating and building.

  “You have your class tonight?” Adam questions out of the blue.

  “Yep.”

  “Dude, maybe you should try to keep your distance from that officer woman.”

  “What do you mean?” I swipe my forearm over my forehead, brushing away dirt and perspiration.

  He stops moving tools around and puts his hands on his hips. “It seems like it might be prudent for you to not get involved with her. Isn’t she the reason you got arrested?”

  Pausing, I take a moment to think about what to say before I answer. Adam is the brother I’m closest to and has my best interests at heart. We’ve been business partners for ten years now. “What happened wasn’t her fault in any way. Yes, I was upset when that guy insulted her, but, ultimately, I need to own it because I overreacted.”

  “Right. But wouldn’t it be a good idea for you to avoid getting involved with her in any way if she incites that kind of a reaction from you? Every time someone looks crossways at her are you going to punch them?”

  I laugh. “Come on, don’t exaggerate the situation.”

  “You know what I mean. Just watch out for yourself.”

  “I always do, man.”

  “I’m going to pair you up and I want you to move so you and your partner are seated next to one another,” Teri announces. Glancing down at the yellow legal pad in her lap, she calls out, “Nancy and Dennis partner up. Tim and Lynn.” She gestures for them to get together and continues reading from her list. My gaze skates across the circular formation locking on Danika. Her fingers are clasped together in her lap, but her shoulders are rigid with tension. Why is she so tightly wound? “Last but not least, Danika and Rex,” Teri finishes.

  Grinning, I rise and make my way over to the vacant seat next to Danika. “Hey, what did you do to get so lucky to have me for a partner?”

  She snorts, crossing her arms. “More like what did I do to piss off Teri. I thought she liked me.”

  I laugh and sink down onto the metal, sliding my chair closer to hers. “How has your week been?”

  “It was fine, thanks.”

  “Fine? That’s it?”

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “I was hoping your week was fantastic.”

  “Are you high?”

  I bark out a laugh. She’s adorable. “Not at the moment. Why do I need to be high to want you to have a great week?”

  One of her brows lowers while the other rises. “Why do you care?”

  “I don’t think I’ve made it a secret I’m attracted to you. But it’s more than that. I find you more fascinating every time we interact.”

  “Are you sure you’re not high?”

  I chuckle, holding up my hand. “Scout’s honor, I’m really not.”

  “I’m flattered, but you should probably squash your interest in me as soon as possible because you’re wasting your time.” Oh shit. Maybe she’s got a husband at home.

  “Are you married?”

  “No.”

  “Engaged?”

  “No.”

  “Have a boyfriend?”

  She shakes her head. “None of the above.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” Her orbs sweep back and forth as she studies my face.

  “You’re not my type.”

  “How do you know?”

  She points to my brown hair. “I prefer darker hair.”

  I flash a grin. “That’s the best you can come up with?”

  “No. You’re too… too…”

  “Manly?” I offer, smirking.

  “Full of yourself,” she retorts.

  “Please take one of these sheets and pass them around. You and your partner will ask each other these questions and provide the answers on the paper,” Teri instructs, putting an end to our banter.

  “What does this have to do with anger management?” Tim, one of the attendees, calls out.

  “I want you guys to get to know one another better. How that works for this class will be revealed, but for now, please fill out your questionnaires,” Teri answers, her tone all business.

  Taking one of the papers, I pass them along to Danika, and she does the same to the person next to her. She reaches into her bag and pulls out two pens. “Do you need one?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Plucking it from her hand, I glance down at the first question, reading it aloud. “What’s your full name?”

  “Danika Elizabeth Putnam. What about yours?”

  “Rex Alexander Winters.”

  “Raw, nice. Did you know it’s good luck if your initials spell out a word like yours do?”

  “I can’t say I’ve heard that before. I’m pretty sure the Alexander was motivated by it being my father’s name.” My lips quirk with amusement.

  “My mom told me that. But keep in mind, she didn’t make my initials spell anything.”

  “I guess my parents loved me more than yours,” I tease.

  She rolls her eyes. “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-eight. And you?”

  “Thirty-five.”

  “You look younger than that. I would’ve guessed late twenties.”

  “Thank you, I guess. I’ve never really been someone who worries about aging. Not everyone gets the privilege, right?”

  “That’s a good way to look at growing older.”

  “Okay, third question.” Danika taps her pen against the paper. “Are you or have you ever been married?”

  “No, to both.” I wait for her to write the answer down before I continue. “I know you’re not married now, but have you ever been?”

  “Yes, I have been.” Her reply surprises me. I’m not sure why. She’s beautiful and intelligent, so it shouldn’t surprise me.

  “Are you legally divorced?” I inquire.

  “Hey, that’s not on here.” She taps the paper.

  “It’s for my own curiosity.”

  “Yes, we’ve been divorced for three years. Pete lives in Colorado and is remarried.” Nice. An ex-husband who lives in another state isn’t a problem at all.

  “He must’ve been an idiot to let you go.”

  She laughs. “We were both dumb for getting married in the first place.”

  “You d
on’t believe in marriage?”

  “I didn’t say that. We were wrong for each other. Both of us were too committed to our careers and neither of us wanted to give an inch when we needed to. Marriage can’t last under those conditions.”

  “Do you regret the divorce?”

  “Not at all. We’re both happier apart.”

  “Would you ever consider getting married again?” I keep the questions rolling, waiting for her to stop me and get back on task, but she surprises me by answering.

  “I’m not against marriage just because mine didn’t work out. But if I ever get married again, he’ll have to be a hell of a guy. I’ll need to be one hundred and ten percent sure he’s the right one, because even the slightest doubts are a bad sign.”

  “Did you have doubts before you got married?”

  “Yeah, some that I shouldn’t have ignored.” Her open expression shutters and she clears her throat. “We should get back on track.” She glances at the paper. “Where did you grow up?”

  “I’m a Boston boy, through and through. Born, bred, and raised here. What about you?”

  “I’m from Lee, Massachusetts.”

  “That’s a decent ride from here.” She nods. “What brought you to the city?”

  “Work.” Her replies are getting shorter, so I keep to the questions on the paper and don’t push my luck.

  “Any children?”

  “None. You?”

  “Yes. I have a daughter, Ruby. She’s almost fifteen and the love of my life.” I’m not sure why I tell her about Ruby. I don’t usually share information about her with women I’m interested in. And I haven’t had a serious relationship in the last ten years since she’s lived with me. Danika’s eyes are open wide enough to show her genuine surprise.

  “You didn’t expect that, did you?” I smirk.

  She shakes her head. “I didn’t. You don’t strike me as the fatherly type.”

  I laugh. If she only knew. “Once you know me better, you’ll realize how ridiculous that statement is.” I gesture to the paper. “Since I already know what you do for work, I’m going to fill this next answer in.”

  “You never said what your job is.” She poises the tip of her pen over the appropriate line, waiting for me to share.