by Stella James
I grab my drill out of the cupboard and the small toolbox that I keep for household jobs and head downstairs. The wooden bannisters that Grey bought along with the brackets and screws are sitting in the corner of the laundry room. I set down the toolbox and walk past her door into the other room, I’m pretty sure I hear the T.V on but when I pass the door again I realize it’s not the T.V I hear. It’s her. I lighten my footsteps and lean a bit closer to the door, aware that I’m being a creep but unable to give a shit, apparently. I listen for a minute and am about to give my head a shake when I hear her again.
Christ, she’s moaning. And fucking panting. My first asshole assumption is that she’s got a man in there with her, but I realize that if she had company, I’d hear him too. And all I hear is her muffled groans and soft gasps. Sweet Fucking hell. She’s getting louder, chanting yes over and over again. Her pleas effectively freeze me in place, my cock now strains against my jeans and I swear if I closed my eyes right now I’d picture her blonde hair tousled and loose, her eyes hooded and full of need. I bet she’d wrap her long legs around my waist and buck her hips up hard to meet mine. Fuck. Just when I think I’m dangerously close to coming in my boxers, I realize her moans have stopped and I’m standing here listening to silence.
I adjust my dick and remind myself that I need to get out of this rut I’m in and actually make an effort to meet someone. I quietly turn back to my toolbox when the bag slips from my hand and falls to the cement floor, the metal brackets scatter and the sound echoes off the walls. Shit.
I pick up the pieces and carry on with my task, hoping she didn’t hear me and realize that she had an audience this entire time. I’m using my drill to insert the first long screw into the wooden plank that I’ll secure the makeshift barre, when her door slowly opens and she pops her head out. Her skin is flushed and fuck me, if she doesn’t look beautiful.
“Hey,” she says smiling. “I didn’t realize you were home, I was just catching up on some reading.”
“Yeah, I sent the guys home early and figured I’d get this dealt with before Jamie dies of impatience,” I reply.
“Do you need help?”
“No,” I say a bit too quickly. “Uh, I’ve got it, it shouldn’t take long,” I tell her. “Go ahead and get back to your book.” I can’t help the way a smirk forms on my lips when I say book. Which of course she notices, because this woman notices everything. She smiles slowly.
“Suit yourself,” she says, turning. “My book is just getting good anyways,” she teases.
Goddamn.
*
I slam the frying pan into the sink a bit harder than I mean to and fill it with hot water. Two things have me on edge, the fact that it’s now Sunday morning and I can still hear Grey’s moans of pleasure in my head as if she’s in the same room with me. And the fact that it’s the second Sunday of the month. Which means Brandi’s parents will be coming in to town so they can spend some time with Jamie.
When I first met Brandi, she was passing through town with some friends on a weekend road trip. They ended up cancelling their plans and staying in Blue Falls instead. Some buddies and I were at the lake and our groups ended up mingling. We were fresh out of high school and after doing the long distance thing for the rest of the summer and into her going away to college and me working my way up at Stone Contracting, she finally made the move here after graduation.
Her parents still live two hours away and were pissed when she blew off their grand post college plan for her to marry a lawyer or a doctor and instead slum it with the likes of me. When we were young, I always thought Brandi was above that bullshit mentality but as the years went on and we got married, I came to realize that her expectations and what I was able to deliver just didn’t match up. She got pregnant with Jamie shortly after we had our modest wedding that I refused to let her parents pay for and when Jamie was three, she hit a patch of black ice on the highway and died during surgery.
I thank God every damn day that Jamie was with my parents that day, I would have never recovered from the loss of my child had she been in the car too. Brandi’s parents have been coming on the second Sunday of every month ever since. Mostly to pretend they care about their only grandchild and to passive aggressively criticize my home, job and parenting skills. It’s my favourite day of the fucking month.
“Daddy, are Bruce and Elizabeth coming today?” Jamie asks from the kitchen table where she’s colouring a picture.
“Yes, they should be here right after lunch,” I say, trying to hide my disdain from my daughter.
“I wish they’d let me call them Grandma and Grandpa like Nan and Pop do,” she says casually.
“Yeah. That would be nice,” I say under my breath. “Go ahead and get dressed and brush your teeth, they should be here soon.”
“Okay Daddy,” she hops off her chair and scampers to her bedroom.
The day my ex-in laws come to visit always darkens my mood, and as hard as I try to keep my shit together for Jamie’s sake, it gets harder as the months go by. Those first six months after Brandi died were a nightmare. My parents helped as much as they could but it took several mistakes and plenty of tantrums, mostly on Jamie’s part, to get us to where we are now. I’ve worked my ass off to be the parent that Jamie deserves and although I make plenty of mistakes, I no longer take kindly to being questioned over every decision I make. Especially by two people whose interest doesn’t extend past their monthly visit.
I tidy up the kitchen and living room and put on a fresh pot of coffee. When Jamie comes back down the hallway, I check the clock and right on time the doorbell rings. Just get it over with.
I open the door and true to form, Bruce and Elizabeth Dodge look like they just left some fancy garden party at their favourite country club. Pressed, neat and expensive as usual, they immediately look disappointed when they see Jamie and I so casually dressed for the occasion.
“Bruce, Elizabeth,” I say, extending my hand to him for a cold handshake. She purses her lips as I step aside and let them in.
“Hi,” Jamie says shyly from beside me.
“Now Jamie, we talked about your manners last time, didn’t we?” Elizabeth says.
“Yes. Ma’am. Hello Elizabeth, hello Bruce,” Jamie responds quietly as she steps forward and they each take a turn, pulling her into a lacklustre hug.
“Come on in, I’ve got coffee on,” I say, closing the door behind them.
“I hope it’s not that poor excuse of a blend you had the last time we were here,” Bruce says. “Not that I expect you to spend too much on something as simple as a good strong coffee.”
Here we go.
We’re sitting at the kitchen table making awkwardly polite conversation when there’s a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it!” Jamie jumps from her chair and races for the door.
“Eric, you really need to work on Jamie’s social skills,” Elizabeth says. “When Brandi was her age she had a tutor who worked with her to correct all of those pesky habits, like leaving the table before being excused.”
“Jamie’s manners are just fine,” I reply tightly.
“Daddy, Grey’s here!”
I look up and see Jamie has her by the hand, practically bouncing as she drags her into the kitchen. She’s got her hair piled on top of her head, pieces falling down around her face. She’s wearing those same tight black pants that she seems so fond of and a thin tank top that flows down to her thighs.
“Hey, sorry I didn’t realize you had company,” she says, smiling brightly. “I’m Grey, I live downstairs.” She offers a small wave with the flick of her wrist and glances over at me when neither of them respond.
“Grey is new to town,” I say. “She was looking for somewhere to live and I still had the suite downstairs empty so she took it about a week ago.”
“Eric, is this really appropriate? Having a woman downstairs? Especially when Jamie is so impressionable. You don’t want her getting the wrong idea,” Elizabeth chides.
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“And what idea would that be?” I can feel the bite in my tone but my fuse is running short and I’m just plain not in the mood for this shit. Not today.
“Oh please, you can’t tell me you aren’t sleeping with this young woman,” she says.
“Hey, that’s not fair,” Grey says at the same time I tell Jamie to go to her room. I wait until she heads down the hallway and I hear the soft click of her bedroom door before I stand from the table.
“Get out of my house,” I say calmly.
“Eric, be reasonable, you can’t blame us for making assumptions. And you can’t blame us for being concerned for our granddaughter,” Bruce says.
“When’s her birthday? What’s her favourite colour or her favourite movie? You don’t know jack shit about your granddaughter and I’ll be damned if I tolerate any more of this upper class bullshit.”
“Now just wait a-“
“No, Bruce. I won’t. Because this isn’t the first damn time that the two of you have come into my home and not only made me feel inadequate but you treat Jamie like she’s some kind of problem for you to constantly fix. She’s a good kid, and she needs grandparents. Not two people who hardly give a shit unless it suits them,” I say. “So I’m going to ask you to leave. And when or if you’re ready to be the kind of family that Jamie needs, you let me know. Until then, these visits are going to stop.”
“Well, I, you can’t d-“
“Come along Elizabeth, it’s clear that we’ve struck a nerve and I think it’s best we head home for now.”
They stand from the table and don’t even attempt to walk to Jamie’s bedroom to say goodbye before they head for the door and shut it firmly behind them.
“Well, that was fun,” Grey says. “I didn’t mean to get you in shit, sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I let out a deep breath. “They’ve had that coming for years and honestly I don’t know why they even bother coming here. I’m gonna go check on Jamie.”
“Sure, okay. I’ll let myself out,” she says.
“Grey?”
“Yeah?” She turns from the door and smiles back at me.
“Can you swim?”
*
I don’t know what possessed me to invite Grey to the lake, maybe the way Jamie lights up when she’s around. I felt bad telling her that Elizabeth and Bruce had left early and I figured a day at the beach might soften the blow. She didn’t seem too surprised or to mind all that much that they left, reminding me again that she’s pretty damn perceptive for a six year old. When I told her Grey was coming to the beach with us she nearly knocked me over.
We spent the day swimming and laughing and Grey seemed to understand that the day was meant to distract Jamie. She kept her giggling and walked along the sand bar with her looking for rocks to collect. It was a good day for me too, it felt like I hadn’t stopped to breathe in so damn long with work and everything else, it was nice to kick back for a day. It didn’t hurt that Grey wore a pink bathing suit that left little to the imagination. It wasn’t revealing, and covered her entire midsection, but it was tightly stretched over the curve of her breasts and the flare of her hips, her tattoos on full display and I found myself catching glimpses of some that are not.
I’ve never thought about whether or not I like tattoos on a woman. But on Grey, they just work. They’re delicate yet bold and she wears them with confidence.
We had a picnic supper on the beach so once we got home and everyone showered off the lake and sand, Jamie was nearly ready for bed. She insisted Grey tuck her in before me, and I took the opportunity to unload our stuff from the truck. I’m just heading down the hall when I can hear Jamie talking quietly.
“My mom died in a car accident, how did your parents die?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to interrupt so Grey doesn’t have to answer but when she begins to speak I find myself frozen in place.
“My mom was sick,” Grey says. “And a long time before that, my dad had something called a heart attack.”
“Do you think my mom’s in heaven?” Jamie asks.
“Of course your mom’s in heaven kiddo, she’s there with my mom, I bet they’re even friends,” she says. “And maybe sometimes they let my dad hang out with them too,” she laughs and Jamie giggles.
“Do you really think so?”
“Absolutely. And I bet she watches over you too, just like my mom watches over me,” she says, glancing up as I step into the room.
“Daddy, Grey’s parents are in heaven,” Jamie says.
“I heard that,” I say holding Grey’s stare for a moment before she looks back down at Jamie.
“Well, goodnight sweetie, remember what I told you about that mermaid you keep dreaming about,” she says, brushing her hair from her forehead.
“I promise I’ll ask her what her name is,” Jamie says.
“Good girl, and make sure you tell me. My curiosity is peaked,” she says.
Before Grey leaves the room I mouth patio and she nods before she turns down the hall. I read Jamie a quick story and she’s out before I even turn the lamp off. I close her door and stop in the kitchen, grabbing two beers out of the fridge. Grey is standing at the railing on the deck, looking out at the backyard when I slide open the door. She turns around and smiles and I hold up the two bottles.
“You want one?”
“No thanks, I don’t really drink,” she shrugs.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” I say. “Jamie’s curiosity gets the best of her most of the time.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she says. “I don’t mind talking about it.” She sits down and rests her bare feet on top of the plastic cooler in front of her. Her toes are painted the same shade of pink as the bathing suit she wore earlier.
“And I’m sorry about this morning,” I say. “Jamie’s grandparents had no right to speak to you like that.” I take the seat beside her and take a long sip from the cold bottle in my hand.
“Don’t worry about it,” she says. “Believe it or not that’s actually not the first time someone has made an assumption about me.”
I turn to face her and see that she’s smiling, teasing me yet again.
“Well, I’ve got a stick up my ass, remember?”
“How could I forget?”
I can’t remember the last time I was teased by a woman. Brandi and I didn’t spend much time alone during the last year or so of our marriage, and any flirting or shared jokes were non- existent at that point. Something about being with Grey is soothing to me. She has the power to drive me crazy of course. She’s overly friendly, she’s impulsive, she’s carefree to the point that it’s actually scary and on top of it all, she smells like berries and vanilla. Sweet and enticing. Which does nothing to help curb my growing desire to find a suitable woman to replace my right hand.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything,” she says with a smile.
“What’s your story?”
She turns her head away from me and looks up at the clear sky, letting out a deep breath before she turns her brown eyes back to me.
“I guess you could say I found myself in a bit of a rut,” she says. Surrounded by people that I no longer wanted to be surrounded by, doing a job that I no longer wanted or needed to do and I guess I just hoped that by coming here, maybe I would feel like I was doing something that my parents could be proud of, if that makes any sense?”
“What kind of job?”
She leans back into the chair and closes her eyes, sighing into the cushion.
“I’ll tell you, but you have to promise to keep your judgement to yourself,” she warns. “I’ve never been ashamed of who I am and I’ll be damned if I start now.”
She peeks on eye open and peers at me, waiting.
“I promise I won’t judge you Grey.”
“I was a stripper,” she tells me. “At a fancy little club where the money was good but the customers were not.”
A stripper. Not what I was e
xpecting.
“And the ballet?”
“I was a dancer for most of my life, but after my dad passed, money got tight and when I was sixteen I had to drop my classes. My mom got sick not long after that and when I turned eighteen and finished high school, I got a job at the nicest club I could find. The Diamond Room. I was there until I left the city and came here.”
“Did you like it?”
She glances over at me and gives me a sad smile.
“No Eric, I didn’t like it. But the money was good and the medical bills were piling up. I was able to keep my mom comfortable and I managed to save some money on top of that. I would have done whatever it took, turns out it took taking my top off for married rich dudes and pretending that I loved every minute of it,” she says.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“Nah, don’t worry about it. It certainly didn’t kill me, and like I said, being able to care for my mom was worth it.”
She reaches up and pulls the elastic band from her hair, thick blonde strands tumble past her shoulders and she sighs with content. The scent of her shampoo teases the tip of my nose. Sweet and enticing.
“I could fall asleep out here,” she smiles. “It’s so peaceful.”
She turns her body sideways on the cushioned bench we’re sharing and tucks her knees up to her chest. She’s watching me, her eyes soft and sleepy.
“I’m sorry about your wife,” she says quietly. “Molly told me a while ago what happened but I wasn’t sure if you’d want me bringing it up. I didn’t want to upset you. Or Jamie.”
“It was a long time ago,” I reply. “The roads were shit, she shouldn’t have been on them and she died in surgery.” I could tell her the rest, but what would be the point?
I don’t know how long we sit in silence before she stands and stretches her arms above her head. The sweater she’s wearing rides up a bit and I catch a glimpse of colourful flowers inked along her ribcage.
“I should head downstairs and go to bed. Six comes early,” she says.
“Yeah, I guess I better head in too,” I stand and place my two empties in the bin and follow her through the patio doors. The kitchen is dim except for the overhead light on the stove. I flip the lock behind me and just as I turn Grey lets out a whispered shriek and jumps back into me.
