The telephone rang at 7:00 a.m. the next morning, Sunday, jerking her out of a deep, dreamless slumber. She reached for the phone at the same time she glanced at the clock on her bedside table. "Uh-hh, hullo?"
"Roxanne?"
She struggled to sit up, wiping sleep from her eyes. "Mom? Is that you? Where are you?"
"I'm in Texas, honey, with your father."
"Texas? Huh?" She cleared her throat. "I expected you home tomorrow or the next day."
"Well, honey, your father and I had a long talk, and we decided to go back to Texas to live."
"What? Oh my gosh, Mom." There was silence at the other end of the phone line. "Well, you just sent me into a tailspin. When did this happen?"
"In Italy, dear. But it's a long story. Your Dad and I are staying at the Hilton for a few days until we find a rental. We just wanted you to know what was happening."
"I-I'm really, really glad, Mom, you know, that everything worked out. But this is a real surprise. What…"
"It surprised me, too, honey," her mother said softly into the receiver. "We fell in love again in Italy. It was wonderful, Roxy. I'm so damn happy. We plan to get married again, in the same chapel where we were wed twenty-seven years ago. Isn't it wonderful?"
Roxy inhaled a long happy sigh. "Wow! It sure is."
She'd been on pins and needles waiting the outcome of her parents' "vacation" together, and it bore fruit. She exhaled in relief.
The happy news about her parents' marriage staying intact was first and foremost. Second, her mind was bombarded by what would happen to the lake house.
Just then, her mother broached the topic. "Oh, by the way, honey, would you mind baby-sitting the lake house until we decide whether we should sell it or rent? I can't handle that problem right now. We want to get settled first. But we'll make up our minds in a few weeks when we come up there. Is that okay with you?"
Sell the lake house? Roxy's heart hit rock bottom.
I love this place, but how can I buy it on my salary, maintain it by myself, and work at the same time? There aren't enough hours in the day.
"Yeah, sure, Mom." A million things whirled around in Roxy's head.
"All right then, sweetheart. Your father wants to say hello to you."
"Hi sweetheart, how are you? How are things?"
"Just fine, Dad. How are you and Mom?"
"Missing you, but we'll be up there to get things straightened out and in shape. I put out
some feelers down here, so a job opportunity came up already, and things look good. We're glad to be back in Texas, Roxy. It's like coming home."
"Yeah, great! I'm really happy for you both. Oh, by the way, I forgot. Tell Mom I have a commission check waiting for her and ask if I should mail it to you or hold onto it."
Roxy heard her father ask a muted question to her mother. "Your mother says to hold it until we call you back. We need to get a post office box, okay?"
"Okay."
"Roxy? Are you all right with this? I mean, our going back to Texas?"
"Of course, Dad. I'm fine up here. I've got my job, my apartment, what else do I need?"
"I know I didn't do the best job in the world, honey, but I'm trying to make up for it to your mother."
"You'll do fine. But, hey, I'll be very excited to see you both again. I hope it's soon."
"Okay, honey. I'll give you back to your mother. Take care of yourself until we see you."
"'Bye, Dad."
"Roxanne?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Did you have any problems at the house while we were gone?"
"Uh, only a little leak downstairs. But Jake Plummer fixed it."
"Well, send us the bill if you haven't paid it, Roxy, and I'll send Mr. Plummer a check."
"It's okay, Mom. I'll take care of it. Good thing it happened while I was here."
"All right, dear, whatever you say. Well, I'll say goodbye now. If you need to speak to us, you can reach us at the Hilton. But I'll call you at the lake a little later this weekend. You'll be staying there, won't you?"
"Yes, of course. I'll be staying here on Tuesday and next weekend. G'bye, Mom. You don't know how happy you've both made me."
Chapter Sixteen
Jake lingered on the clubhouse porch, checking the dial on his watch from the light spilling from windows adjacent to the dance floor. Two weeks without Roxy had been hell. He missed everything about her: her smile, her teasing, the sound of her voice, and especially their lovemaking. For him to be celibate for two weeks had been the trick of the century. He hadn't approached or even spoken with women in the pubs he and Pete frequented. He knew Pete was pissed at him. The dark attitude he'd wrapped around himself lately had everyone in the family looking at him in askance. Even Grampa.
Pete was looking for excitement. With Jake acting so moody and glum, Pete told him, Dullsville was someplace he didn't want to visit with Jake nowadays. Chip, though he didn't say much, commiserated with an understanding glance when Pete mentioned Roxanne Diamond's name the next day. The brothers were sitting, drinking beer and watching a ballgame on TV.
"That Roxy Diamond is a hot looker, Jake. What broke the two of you up? I thought from what you said…"
"Mind your own business, Pete," Jake growled. Given a second thought, he apologized. "Roxy and I have some things to work out, that's all. Stay away from her. I don't want you chasing her."
"Not me, Bro, but you can ship Desiree Smith my way anytime."
"Don't you realize she's a few years older than you and been around the horn a couple of times? Besides, she'll eat you alive. Better watch your … well, you know what."
Pete winked. "She can do anything she wants to me, and I'll sit back grinning and enjoying it."
Even Chip rolled his eyes back into his head and let out a raw guffaw.
"She'd have some fun trying to do it on your Harley."
Pete's laughter was wicked. "When someone is riding behind you and hanging on tight, with a pair of hands grabbing at your equipment in your lap, you'd be surprised what can happen on that bike."
"Dammit, Jake," Chip laughed louder. "I'll bet he's done it in a 35-mile-an-hour speed zone or better." He turned to Pete. "Haven't you?"
"Go play with your chainsaw, my boy, or get me another beer, huh?" Pete grinned.
"I'll throw you one," Jake replied. "I'm going out for a while. See you guys later."
The two Plummer boys watched Jake through the window as he revved the motor of his Corvette and took off down the street. The town was all but deserted on the Sunday before Labor Day. Traffic was sparse, and the streets were almost empty.
It was late afternoon and Jake wasn't sure where he was going, but he ended up at the entrance to Mirror Lake. He passed the clubhouse, noticing it had less than a crowd hanging around. The volleyball matches and the softball game must have ended earlier. Tomorrow would be even quieter.
He made a U-turn in the parking lot and turned onto Lakeshore Road toward the Diamonds' house. He pulled up across the street from the driveway. Roxy's car was parked there. Obviously, she must be home, but the house was quiet. No radio or TV blaring from inside. She might be down at the dock or out sailing. Did he have the nerve to stop by to talk with her? Last night she had asked him to stay away from her, not to bother her. His insides churned because he missed her. How the hell long was this torture going to go on? He'd better either make up his mind to forget her … or else ask her to marry him.
Holy shit! Me get married? Am I nuts?
A chill raced through him as he sat in his sports car. He turned on the ignition and took off around Lakeshore Drive, ending back at the Clubhouse Pub. He got out and went inside for a beer.
"Hey, Jake. How's it going?" Eddie, the part-time bartender, was working. "Enjoy the dance last night?"
"Yeah. Had a great time. How about you?"
"The missus had a ball. You know me. I'm not much of a dancer. But she had plenty of partners. I made it up to her when we got home." He winked
at Jake and smiled. "Gotta keep the missus happy."
"Is that what it takes to make a marriage work, Eddie?"
"Good sex and a lot of it don't hurt." He chuckled louder. "What about you, Jake? Thinking of getting married?"
"I don't know," he answered. "I'm a little stymied about tying myself down to a single woman. I wish I knew if I should take the plunge."
"Well, I ain't seen you in here with anyone. Who's the gal?"
Jake shook his head. "Don't think you know her. She lives in New York."
"Oh. A big city gal, huh? Well, that's something to think about before marrying a city gal. Lots of them are a bit uppity, if you know what I mean. Me, I married my childhood sweetheart right out of Miradale High. Well, there was a reason for that." He coughed and laughed again. "But we're happy. We got four kids. Count 'em. Two boys and two girls."
Eddie had been polishing one beer mug for five minutes. The bar action was slow, only one couple sitting at a table in the far corner.
"That right?" Jake asked, not looking for an answer. "Well, congratulations." He gestured to the bartender to refill his mug.
"Having a bunch of kids is something else that shakes me up." He harkened back to Roxy's angry words about not wanting a pregnancy. "I might be the first of my brothers to have kids. What if I didn't know how to do it?"
The bartender laughed. "Do you mean about how to make one—or raising one?"
Jake growled low in his throat. "Gimme a break Eddie. Do you think I don't know how to make a baby?" He raked nervous fingers through his hair once or twice before continuing. "It's those years afterward that worry me."
Eddie wiped the bar in front of Jake before putting down the second mug of beer.
"Well, if you want some advice from me, just take your time before you have a kid. In a couple more years, you'll be ready to cuddle a sweet-smelling little gal in your arms. I made an early move I shouldn't have, but it all worked out. Just remember that you gotta be more gentle with baby girls. The boys you can roughhouse with."
The bartender leaned over the bar and chucked Jake on the shoulder. "You'll do fine, Jake. I can tell. Your dad did a fine job with all the Plummer boys though I see Pete's wilder than the rest of you. By the way, where is he tonight? He's usually in here sometime or another."
"Watching a ballgame with Chip the last time I looked. Maybe he'll be coming in the door soon. Who knows?"
The TV behind the bar showed a picture but no voice. "The Yanks lost. The sports channel is showing all the scores for this afternoon," the bartender commented, finally picking up another mug to polish.
The whispering couple from the rear corner walked up to the jukebox, put some coins in, and punched a few buttons. The music was slow and dreamy, and they started to sway together on the open dance floor area of the Pub.
Jake felt a stirring in his loins just watching them move, pasted together so sinuously.
"Well," he said, pouring the remainder of the second beer down his throat. "Time to go, Ed. Thanks for the advice. G'evening. Take care." Jake took one last look at the couple dancing as he headed to his car.
* * * *
Roxy spent most of Sunday morning lying in the hammock, thinking about her parents and what effect their moving back to Texas would have on her. If only she had the funds to buy the house. Unfortunately, she could handle only so much and keep her head above water. Living and working in New York took more money than she'd been able to save for a rainy day. The idea was logical to move back here and pay rent to her folks. It would mean getting up very early and arriving home late, and taking that long commute into the city. But if she had to, she would. Commuting was expensive, too, but she could exist on a bagel breakfast. Besides, the ride would give her time to read manuscripts on the way to and from work. That in itself was a bonus. Yes, she'd speak with her parents when they came to New Jersey. Maybe it would work after all.
More thoughts about Jake intruded. She'd like to blame him for the mouth-insert-foot comments she'd made that night on the patio. She'd told him no more sex, then let him make love to her later. But there was no going back. They were both too stubborn to apologize.
She was restless after last evening's unexpected encounter with Jake. What she really wanted—and she couldn't deny it—was Jake here with her, in bed, inside of her. But it had been simply a summer fling—a hot fling for sure—but nevertheless, one she suspected wouldn't last. She needed emotional involvement as well as physical release. And she wasn't getting the first half from Jake. Certain his feelings weren't reciprocal meant she was totally pathetic, mooning about him like an idiot.
Wake up, dummy, and smell the stinkweeds, she scolded herself silently.
Roxy finally shook away irritating musings about Jake and instead, took a cool dip in the lake. As soon as the Sunday morning races ended, she went for a sail. Later she lazed around some more on the patio, reading a book, this time simply for enjoyment. Her musings had satisfied her most urgent worries. She spent the rest of the day doing nothing. It felt good, and she found she felt relaxed. She watched the Sunday night's movie and went to bed early.
After a solid, night's rest, she came awake a little after 6:00 a.m. She got up, splashed cool water on her face to wipe the sleep from her eyes, and ambled into the kitchen to turn on the coffeemaker. She grabbed a bowl, utensils, and a box of cereal from the pantry, and pulled a carton of milk from the refrigerator. She yawned again. More awake now, she heard strange noises coming from the rear deck. What kind of a birdcall was that? She was curious, unlocked the door, and stuck her head outside.
"What in the world?" Her eyebrows lifted in surprise, her eyes cracked wider. "What are you doing here, Jake? Are you nuts, hanging out on my deck?"
He stood up abruptly. "Nuts about you, Roxy, maybe." He wanted to reach for her. Instead, he stuck his hands in his pockets and took a step toward her. "But I need to talk to you."
"Uh, uh. Oh no, Jake. I'm not letting you come in. Go home and go back to bed."
"I couldn't sleep. Shit, that's why I'm here. C'mon, Rox. Give a hardworking guy a cup of coffee on Labor Day, huh?"
"Tomorrow's Labor Day. Not today," she quipped back at him to give herself time to get her wits under control.
Finally, Roxy took a good look at Jake. He had on cut-off jeans and a sleeveless wrinkled T-shirt that looked ready for the ragbag. His bare feet were stuffed into a worn pair of sandals. He looked a total wreck. His hair looked as if he used an eggbeater to comb it. His cheeks were dark and bristly; he desperately needed a shave. His eyes looked red-rimmed, maybe even a little bloodshot. She could almost believe he'd been out on a night-long toot. Good. It serves him right. I probably looked the same way for the past two weeks. But no more. Not me.
Jake moved a little closer, his gaze pinned onto Roxy's face. She hadn't closed the door in his face.
He does have a peculiar look in those bleary eyes of his, she thought. Maybe I should let him in and give him a mug of coffee to straighten him up.
She stepped back and held the door wide open. He jumped through the opening in two seconds flat and started following her.
"Stay away from me, Jake. Coffee is all you're going to get."
"Okay, okay." He raised his open palms in acquiescence and made himself comfortable at the kitchen table, as if he belonged there. He whipped fingers through his tousled hair and down his bristly cheeks. "I guess I look pretty bad, huh?"
"Yup," she said, pouring coffee into two mugs. "Is this what you look like when you get up in the morning?" She chuckled. "I never would have guessed you'd look so frazzled."
"Yeah, well. I haven't been sleeping. What about you?"
"Me? I sleep like a baby, Jake. Why wouldn't I?"
"Dammit, Rox, I don't believe you. You can't be telling me the truth."
"Why would I lie, Jake? There's nothing to lie about. There's nothing between you and me to get upset about. Not anymore. Am I right?"
He jumped up off the chair. It tipped over a
nd crashed on the tile floor. He went to grab hold of her shoulders and stumbled over the kitchen chair.
"Oh! Jake! Watch out! The hot coffee!"
Both full mugs sloshed over and poured down the front of his cut-offs. He was quick to move back and clutch at his important parts. "Ow! Ouch! God dammit! That stings!"
Quickly, Roxy put down the half empty mugs and threw him a small dishtowel. "You'd better get out of your shorts fast or you might do some damage to your … er … you know. The plumber's helper." She swallowed a wicked titter.
Jake did as she suggested, sopping up the hot liquid as best he could. Meanwhile, she picked up the fallen chair. He yanked down his shorts and skivvies and stepped out of them without any sense of embarrassment. He stood in front of her with his shriveled glory, his face turning a shade of ruddy carmine while he wiped at his scalded cock and stinging testicles.
"Oh my goodness, Jake, does it hurt?"
"Of course, it hurts." When he looked up, he saw she was struggling to hide a smile.
"It's not funny, Rox," he groused. "You'll be sorry if my plumbing doesn't work as well as it should."
Roxy had to turn away. It was mean of her, she realized, but she busied herself by taking down plates from the cabinet for a real breakfast instead of plain cereal. She said over her shoulder, "Why should I be sorry, Jake, unless all you need is first-aid? Shall I call 911?"
The only first aid I need is for you to kiss my cock and make it better.
Without answering her, Jake frowned and remained unmoving, looking down at a less impressive penis doused with hot coffee. Most of the sting already went away because of his quick action, and the scald wasn't serious, thank God.
"I think I'm okay," he said. His plumber's helper was alive and recuperating.
When Roxy spun around to look, her attention flew immediately to his groin. His T-shirt was extra long and covered most of his main attributes, and she didn't want to stare at his cock. That could only be trouble.
The Plumber's Helper Page 14
