Maple Sundaes & CIder Donuts

by Olivia Gaines

  “Evan,” she moaned into the side of his neck. The pleasure coursed through her body, igniting her blood like droplets of pepper sauce added to her veggies for an extra kick of yumminess. The more he moved, the hotter she became until she reached a boiling point. Agile fingers dug into his skin, trying desperately to pull her husband in closer to seal the moment. “Oh my goodness, Evan!”

  Leta sank her teeth into his shoulder and her body clamped around him, urging him to go faster, harder, and deeper. Evan didn’t require any more encouragement to give his wife what she craved. He repeatedly thrust into her softness, loving the feel of her reaction to his movements, reluctantly giving in, and knowing that doing so would end the moment.

  “I can’t hold on much longer,” he confessed, his hand gripping her thigh.

  “Don’t. Let go, Evan. I’m yours,” she replied, turning her face to allow her lips to meet his, a solid kiss, explaining, expounding, and enunciating everything he’d been unable to express.

  The movements were intended to bring pleasure. It worked, making Leta climb the pinnacle a second time, clinging to him, grateful for this man she called husband. Spent, he collapsed on top of her, holding tightly, not wanting to let go.

  “I like you being a morning person,” she said, chuckling a bit. “How often do you go out and row in that boat?”

  “Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday mornings,” he said, planting a kiss on her cheek.

  “Well, shit, it’s a date every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday morning. I mean not to put us on a schedule, but damn, that was fantastic,” she stated, patting him on his bare bum. “Now, I need coffee to get this day going.”

  The sound of a large truck coming towards the house broke the physical connection, pulling Evan from her body in the bed and onto his bare feet, padding towards the window. He peered out the bedroom window, seeing the arrival of Leta’s half of a house.

  “Your new bedroom has arrived,” Evan said, reluctantly releasing her hand. “I’m going to grab a quick shower and get dressed, then I’ll go out and meet Jake.”

  “Okay,” she answered, looking at the second truck which arrived with a portable john. “This is actually happening. It’s happening.”

  Happy, she went to the closet to pick one of the four outfits she’d brought with her. Today she had the meeting with the Insurance Agents at three, but Leta needed to get to the library to find a few local cookbooks, as well as information on making puzzles. She had an idea that she planned to share over dinner with her husband.

  “This feels good,” she said, hugging herself as the sound of the shower started. It felt a great deal better than her shell of a life in Atlanta with a handful of friends she rarely had time to see, and the only person she saw regularly was Claudia, the one person she was no longer interested in seeing at all. A situation that her lifelong gal pal would take exception to in a substantial way at some point this week needed to be addressed.

  CLAUDIA WAS FURIOUS. She went to bed in a foul mood and woke up in an ever-worsening declining state of unhappiness. Maybe she should have married the man in New Hampshire. It was past nine in the morning and he would be at work. Scrolling through her frequently called list, she located his cell phone number and pressed the call button.

  Evan didn’t answer. The connection was halted mid-ring with a message that stated the caller did not accept outside calls. She looked down at the phone in utter shock.

  “Oh no he didn’t block my fricking calls!”

  Angrier than she’d been in a very long time, she scrolled through the phone, searching for his contact information. The number to his office had to be in the device because he’d given it to her at one point. Claudia located the number and called the direct line for the Town Clerk of Meredith. To her surprise, Evan answered.

  “Town Clerk,” the loud voice said into the line.

  “Evan, it’s me, Claudia,” she replied in a breathy voice, intentionally attempting to sound sexually frustrated. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it there in time for our wedding. I’m truly sorry, and I hope that you can forgive me.”

  “You’re forgiven,” Evan said, bored by the conversation which had barely started.

  “Whew,” she countered, blowing heated breath into the line. “I’m so glad to hear that, Evan. Please tell me that you didn’t lose your land.”

  “I still have my land, the house, and my spectacular view of the lake,” he said, waiting for what he knew was coming next.

  “Evan, is there still a place for me in your life?”

  He held the phone for a blip, then answered, “Nope. I’ve moved on. I’m married to a wonderful woman who showed up when I needed her to and is very happy in our life together. Claudia, thank you for the conversation and friendship when I truly needed it. I appreciate you.”

  Claudia thought she’d misheard him. Her forehead crinkled, which she seldom allowed in an effort in avoidance of the long-term damage to the thin skin, but now she was more than angry. First Kevin, then Leta, and now this country clown. “Evan, did you say you were married?”

  “Yes, Claudia, I am. Thank you for calling to check on me. That was thoughtful of you. Take care,” he said and ended the call. Without missing a beat, he called for Magda, who rounded the corner.

  “Yes, Boss?”

  “Screen my calls for the remainder of the week,” he said, looking down at the phone. He didn’t have his wife’s number. If she had a 404-area code, he couldn’t tell Magda to not put the calls through.

  “You avoiding any numbers in particular?” Magda asked.

  “Right now, all of them but my wife, sister and parents,” he said, “and they will call me on my cell if they need to reach me.”

  Thinking better of it, he called his home, not sure if she would answer or not, but he would try. He punched in the landline number, remembering with a sigh of relief that the caller ID would read the City of Meredith. Evan listened to the rings, praying she would pick up.

  “Hello,” she said into the line.

  “Leta, it’s me, Evan,” he responded, happy to hear the soft voice. “I just realized I don’t have your cell phone number and you don’t have mine. Can you grab your phone and call me at this number?”

  “Sure, hold on,” she told him, fetching her cell. “Evan is everything alright?”

  “Yeah, I realized I didn’t have a number for you and vice versa, just touching base that’s all, wife,” he said, omitting the part about Claudia calling. “How goes the work at the homestead?”

  “So far, so good. I’m heading into town to the library, then I’m going to grab lunch over at Mabel’s, and finally meet with the insurance agents at 3 p.m. I didn’t bring a suit, so there’s that, if it is an interview,” she informed him.

  “Do you need me to join you?”

  “No Evan, I can handle five insurance agents,” she said. “See you tonight.”

  “Can’t wait...I’m missing you already,” he replied.

  “Likewise, my handsome boat rower. Later,” she answered, ending the call. Immediately she knew why he called. Claudia must have reached out to him this morning, testing the waters to see if there was room for her to worm a hole into his life. “Sorry Sister, the role of Evan’s wife is being occupied by Leta Feldman Eaton. You snoozed and now you lose.”

  Dressed and ready to conquer the day in smartly tailored black slacks with a coordinating dress sweater in a red and black design, Leta put on a red tank top underneath. In her left hand she held her planner, and in her right a hot pot of coffee. On her way out the front door, she carried the coffee.

  “Morning, Jake,” she called out to the man.

  “Morning, Leta,” he waved back, coming over to the front porch. The half of a house was much larger than it appeared on the lot once it was placed against the current abode. “What do you think?”

  “I’m loving it,” she replied, raising the coffee pot. “I made a fresh pot for you and the crew!”

  “Thanks,” Jake cal
led out, and several of the men stopped working to stare at her. She provided a smile, set the pot on the porch railing, and then made a beeline to the vehicle. The men still stared as she looked in the rear-view mirror, laughing a bit to herself at the silliness of people. “Jesus, I’m just black. They act like they’ve never seen one up close.”

  She drove through town, coming down Main Street to the library parking behind the building, double checking her ID, realizing too soon, or rather too late, that she could read the books but not check any out. Her driver’s license would need to be changed over once she received a copy of the marriage license, plus a change of address, and more.

  “Ughh,” she groaned, entering through the rear door of the building.

  The library was empty, except for the librarian who appeared to either be half dead or half asleep. Leta wasn’t going to disturb her slumber. In the corner was one other lady, about the same age as herself, with reddish-brown hair and wide hips. Peachy pink skin with radiant cheeks gave a cherub-like appearance to her face. She offered the woman a smile, which Leta nearly regretted once the lady got to her feet and came her way.

  “Hi, I’m Sandra Greybar,” she told Leta.

  “I’m Leta Eaton. I’m new around here,” she said with a hesitant smile.

  “Me too and making friends in this town is a bitch,” Sandra said. “What’s a dazzling urbanite like you doing in these parts?”

  “Funny, Blazing Saddles,” Leta replied to wide eyes.

  “Shut up! You just got one of my many movie references. Oh my God, I think I have found a friend,” Sandra said, all breathy and anxious as if she’d forgotten to take her Adderall. “Please tell me you want to make friends too. I have been here for a month and I’m ready to slit my throat. I have no idea what I’m going to do come winter. Girl, I will not last in this two-lake town.”

  “Calm down, please, you’re scaring me,” Leta said.

  “I don’t mean to, but it is lonely here. There are all these cliques of women groups who quilt, bake pies, and make jams. That is not me. I would love to go to Manchester to see a movie or just have a pal to have lunch with once a week,” Sandra said.

  “There is a movie theater in town, Sandra,” Leta offered calmly, hearing the bit of Southern twang in her voice. “How did you end up in Meredith?”

  “My husband took a job as a police officer, and we moved here from Kentucky last month,” Sandra told her. “How long and why are you here?”

  “My husband is the Town Clerk,” Leta said, avoiding the question at hand. “Hey, I have to do a bit of research, but after I was going over to Mabel’s for lunch. Want to come with?”

  “I would so love that, thank you. I feel like crying right now. I truly do,” Sandra said. “Can I give you a hug?”

  “Sure,” Leta answered, opening her arms. Sandra crumpled her body into the fold, physically shaking in relief for the connection. Leta rubbed her back, offering comfort. “It’s going to be okay. You’ve made a friend in me.”

  “And you have one in me as well,” Sandra said, clutching onto the pretty red and black sweater. It was such a small act of kindness that would go such a long way for two ladies swimming in a lake filled with fish with sharp teeth. Little did they know, a gam of sharks were circling the inlet ready to pounce on unsuspecting prey.

  CLAUDIA PACED BACK and forth on the balcony of her mid-town apartment, angry, frustrated, and feeling alone. The one person she always turned to in her time of need was nowhere to be found and that also made her more livid. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to turn out.

  “Wait a damned minute,” she said, grabbing her phone and scrolling through the list of callers. Oddly enough, the call list was much shorter than in previous years, which worked in her favor as she came upon the one number needed. An acrylic covered nail tapped on the name of “Mister” as she held the phone to her ear, waiting for his voice.

  “Yes,” the strong male voice said.

  “It’s me. I did everything you asked and am waiting on my final payment,” Claudia said into the line.

  “No payment. Evan’s still married. Evan is keeping his land,” the voice said.

  “I don’t understand. I waited until the last minute to not show. I didn’t call. How did he...or did he have someone else in the wings? You said he was a loner and didn’t socialize with people in the town,” Claudia whined into the phone. “Hey, I did my part and still expect payment.”

  “You shall receive nothing more. You failed,” the voice said, clicking off the line and ending the call.

  “Uggggggghhh!” she screamed and kicked the ottoman in the middle of the floor. “What the hell is going on here?”

  Chapter Thirteen - Cordiality

  Evan sat behind his desk, almost anxious for the noon hour, just to open his lunch box and see what his wife had packed him to eat. The years of a bologna sandwich and a piece of fruit had been sufficient to sustain him until dinner and before she arrived, his palate never complained. On occasion, he would treat himself to a sandwich and bowl of soup at Mabel’s, but that occurred only twice per month. Now his mouth was affixed to try a culinary delight made by the little woman. The clocked watched him as Evan sat, visibly monitoring the second hand’s revolution over the white face of the ruddy old timepiece. Five minutes were left until he could open the lunch box and retrieve the special treat Leta prepared.

  “Hey,” a strong male voice laced with Southern gentility said. “You Evan?”

  Evan looked up to see a police officer in dark shades with a porn stache covering his upper lip. The uniform shirt appeared two sizes too small stretched tightly across bulging biceps. In his right hand he held a dark green lunch pail which closely matched the shirt of the uniform. His left hand rested on his side piece and the remainder of him was covered in twelve muted shades of attitude.

  “Yes, I’m Evan,” he replied, curious as to what this was about.

  “I’m Virgil Greybar,” he said as if Evan would know who that was. “I’m new to these parts, been in town about a month.”

  “Okay,” Evan said, still curious.

  “Brought my lunch. Thought we’d spend an hour and chat,” Virgil announced, holding up the lunch pail.

  Evan found himself scowling. “Why would I want to do that Officer Greybar?”

  “Because my wife found yours in the library today, and now they are off to have lunch at Mabel’s. I need to know right now if we can stomach each other or have any common interests or a shared hobby before she comes home tonight, pecking my ear off about us getting together for Canasta or some other bullshit I have no desire to play every other Friday as we rotate from our house to your place,” Virgil said with a twist of his lip.

  “Fair enough,” Evan answered understand the unspoken mansplaining of his current situation, then going to his desk to grab his lunch. “My wife is Leta.”

  “Sandra is mine. She has an uncanny knack of making ugly shit that she deems as crafts and gives them as gifts to people who usually throw it away when we turn our backs, but her heart is pure and she’s a lovely woman,” Virgil said. “We ain’t got no kids yet, not for me not giving it my all, but Doc said stress can be a factor. I’m hoping since she’s pretty excited about this new friend she found in your Leta that their women clocks can sync up and baby growing vibes can work for them both, I mean if that’s what you’re aiming at.”

  “We’re aiming at it,” Evan replied. “Leta’s an attorney, specializing in insurance. She likes to bake. She’s working on her recipe for cider donuts a local sweet treat; goes well with a maple sundae. I like to fish and hunt, and we have a house on Lake Winnisquam. We don’t play Canasta, but I will play Scrabble and a bit of poker. I like hockey, not that crazy about football, but I will watch the Super Bowl.”

  Virgil watched Evan’s face closely. His eyes were steady and showed no signs of weakness. His body composure didn’t display any falsehoods or tells of questionable character.

  “I can work with tha
t,” Virgil said.

  “Same here,” Evan replied as the clock struck noon. “There’s a break room in the back or a bench outside. Your call.”

  “Outside Bench works,” Virgil answered.

  “Outside it is,” Evan cosigned, collecting his lunchbox and following the officer through the side door. Everything about Virgil said the good ole boy who quite possibly played college football until he got hurt and had to start a second career. There was a story as to how and why a Southern mustache sporting gent ended up in New Hampshire. He looked forward to hearing about it over steaks and a cold beer on Friday night. “Jesus, what has she done to me?”

  Virgil chuckled, looking back at him. “What did you just imagine?”

  “Hearing how a Southern gentleman and former college football star ending up so far from home, but I imagined hearing about it Friday night over dinner of steaks, washed down with cold beer and fried potatoes,” Evan answered, laughing at himself.

  “If that’s an invite, I accept. One more Friday night of Netflix and I think I may shave my toenails off with my teeth all beaver style,” Virgil laughed.

  “How long you been married?”

  “A year and some change. You?”

  “Not long at all,” Evan said. “It will be nice for my Leta to have friends over for dinner. You guys all settled in?”

  Virgil answered his question, as well as a few more, while they chatted over lunch. With the meal complete and the one o’clock hour approaching, the men exchanged numbers and growled at each other with a set dinner time of 6:30 on Friday. Evan also provided an address for where he lived. Truthfully, he looked forward to having them over as a surprise for Leta and he was very curious to meet Virgil’s other half, Sandra.