“I should’ve brought some hot chocolate.”
“Coffee is fine. I’d be fine with hot water at this point,” I say, taking another sip of the coffee Gabe made for me.
He steps away from the fire and turns on several lamps. The room is a good size, with two big couches angled to the windows and the view of the lake.
The walls are covered in clusters of photographs. I stand and wrap the comforter tight around me.
I move to the wall alongside the fire. The photographs are family snapshots, and all seem to have been taken here. There’s a picture of a young boy and girl standing knee deep in the water. The boy’s smile makes it obvious that it’s Gabe.
There’s another of Gabe and the girl with a blue pup tent set up on the lawn.
“That’s your sister, Melanie?”
“Yeah,” Gabe says, and sits on the couch.
I can feel his eyes on me as I look at the pictures, but he doesn’t say anything or move from his spot.
At the top of the group of photos is a black and white one of an old man in a suit standing in front of the house. This house must’ve been in Gabe’s family for decades.
“Who’s he?” I ask. I don’t turn around or point to the photo, I know Gabe’s been watching me.
“My great-grandfather.”
“This was his house?”
“He built it.”
Gabe doesn’t offer any more details, and I carry on looking at all the photographs. They’re mostly of him and his sister on this wall. Some of them are the two of them on their own, but two have a woman in them. In one, the woman is holding Melanie on her hip and cuddling Gabe with her free hand. In the other, she’s crouching down with Gabe and Melanie in the shallow water. A natural smile beams across her face in both photos, and I get the sense she was smiling for her children and not for the camera.
“Is that your mom?”
“Yep.”
“You look like her. You have the same eyes and nose.”
“You think so?”
“Definitely, have you looked in the mirror?” I laugh.
“Huh, I never really thought about it.”
“She’s beautiful, and looks like a loving mother.”
Gabe falls silent. I move to the long wall that separates the room from the kitchen and squeeze myself and the bulky comforter between the angled couch Gabe is sitting on and the wall.
He clears his throat, and I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t.
The snapshots on this wall all seem to be of older generations. I scan over the smartly dressed men and women posing on the lawn and near the lake. There’s a baby in one, which I guess might be Gabe, but otherwise he’s not in any of the photos.
“That’s all my dad’s side of the family.”
“It was their house?”
“Yeah, my mother’s family is all in Pittsburgh. My dad grew up around here, and after my grandfather died, he gave the house to my dad. We used to come here every weekend as kids.”
“So this is still your dad’s house?”
“Nope, it’s mine.” Gabe stands and climbs over the back of the couch. He stands close but without touching me. “When I moved back to Rochester I waited a few months then came out here. I figured I’d find him living here, but the house was empty and neglected. The key we kept hidden was still in the same spot and I let myself in.”
“Wow, that’s great. Does he know you come here?”
“I emailed him and demanded he transfer ownership to my name.”
I tilt my head to face him, my eyes wide.
“That’s bold.”
“Fuck him, it’s rightfully mine.”
“And he agreed to transfer it?”
“He seemed glad to get rid of it.”
“And he’s never come by?”
“Not even once,” Gabe sighs. “I guess the good memories for me are hard memories for him. Whatever, I don’t give a shit.”
“Is that him when he was a kid?” I ask, pointing at a boy wearing bell-bottomed jeans.
“Yeah, I don’t know why I keep his photos up. They’ve have been on the wall for decades. I took them down when I painted, but figured they belong where they always were.”
“You painted?” I ask, and laugh. His apartment looks like it hasn’t been painted since he moved in.
He drapes his arm over my shoulders and squeezes me against him.
“I did a lot more than paint. This place was falling apart when I started coming here, I’ve spent the last two years fixing it up, starting with the hole in the roof.”
“You’ve done a great job,” I say, looking around. “It’s a far cry from your bachelor pad above Incredible Ink.”
“That place is just a convenient place to sleep. This is my home.”
“Do I get a full tour?”
“You’ve seen this room and the bedroom, that’s about it.”
“The kitchen?” I ask, wandering toward the internal doorway.
“It’s not very exciting. I had to buy a new fridge and stove, but haven’t done anything else to it, so the cupboards still need to be replaced.”
We stand in the middle of the kitchen. There’s a big window over the kitchen sink, looking out over the lake. The cupboards are plain varnished wood, and look like they’re been here as long as the house.
“I love the cupboards, you can’t take them out.”
“They’re pretty rustic. I’m surprised you like them. I didn’t think they’d be perfect enough for you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Gabe flashes me a broad grin, and says, “You know you’re always concerned with things being perfect. Why? Did your parents put a lot of pressure on you?”
“No, my parents never pressured me to be perfect.”
“Then where did it come from?”
My eyes drop to the floor as I contemplate Gabe’s question. We talked a little about this before, when he said it was the reason I couldn’t have orgasms but I never tried to understand why.
Shifting my gaze to Gabe, I say, “I think I just looked up to my parents my whole life. And they’re perfect so I always put pressure on myself to be perfect too.” Gabe winces as I speak and I feel bad for talking about how perfect my parents are when he doesn’t have any.
Running his hand from my shoulder to my fingers, he laces his fingers through mine. He lifts our hands to his mouth and kisses my fingers.
“Isn’t life more fun when you’re not trying to be perfect?”
My heart warms, and I laugh. “Definitely.”
He tugs at the comforter, and says, “That’s the end of the tour.”
“There’s only one bedroom?”
“Nah, there’s a second bedroom but it’s where I shoved everything from the rest of the place when I was clearing it. A lot of it is stuff my parents put here before we moved to Pittsburgh. Things like photo albums and keepsakes from when my sister and I were a little. There’s even schoolwork of ours.”
“That’s incredible.”
“I couldn’t figure out what to do with it all.”
“There’s a whole bedroom full?”
“A couple of chests, plus there is a lot of my dad’s stuff. They must’ve thought that we would move back here after… you know.” Gabe shrugs.
“Sometimes things don’t happen the way people plan.”
“I have to figure out what to do with it all, but for now I’m happy to ignore it.”
Gabe pulls me into his arms, and works his way into the comforter. We stand in the kitchen, our bodies tight together, huddled in the comforter.
30.Gabe
We spend all day Sunday relaxing in the sunshine. Eloise doesn’t ask again about the second bedroom, and I’m relieved because I want to spend time with her, not clearing out shit.
Usually I spend my time at the house doing non-stop chores. I’m not even going to mow the lawn this week. It’s nice to be able to enjoy the place.
Eloise spent most
of the time topless, her nipples hard whenever the breeze picked up. I’ve never been so grateful for having a secluded property.
I can’t wait for her to move her workdays and we can come here every week, all summer long. Not much work is going to get done on the house but that’s okay, as long as she’s here.
Memorial Day is beautiful, and we’re laying on the grass near the lake.
“You know what would look real good on this tit?” I ask, tracing my finger along side of her left breast.
“What?” She sets her Kindle down.
“Some ink. I’m thinking lilacs.”
“Are you saying my breasts aren’t good enough as they are?”
“Your tits are perfect.” I cup her tit.
“Then why do you want to change them?”
“For fun.”
“You haven’t corrupted me enough for me to get a tattoo.”
“Yet.”
Eloise’s boob jiggles in my hand as she laughs.
“Never. Trust me.”
“Are you wearing clothes for the drive home?” I laugh.
She slaps my hand away, and says, “You’ve satisfied me enough this weekend, I don’t feel the need to touch myself.”
“Funny, whenever I think of you, I always feel the need to touch myself.”
“Are you saying I don’t satisfy you?” she chuckles.
“You satisfy me too much, that’s the problem.”
“I’ll stop trying to satisfy you. Maybe next time I’ll keep my hands away from you.”
“Don’t do that. That would be cruel.”
“But less satisfying for you.”
“I’m going to make the burgers now,” I say, standing before she can make any more threats.
“I’ll help.”
“Only if you take off the rest of your clothes.”
“There’s no time, we have to get going home. I have to work in the morning.”
We make dinner together, I barbecue the meat and Eloise makes a Caesar salad.
The ride home is uneventful and fully clothed, though an hour in a truck with Eloise is fun enough as it is.
“I can’t stay over tonight, I have work in the morning and I need some things from my apartment.”
“Your car’s at my place so I can’t drop you off at home.”
We pull into my property. There’s a truck parked out front, but I don’t think anything about it, it’s not unusual for people to use my parking spaces. I steer the truck alongside the tattoo parlor and park it beside Eloise’s car.
She hops out of the truck, and I rush out and pull her into my arms. I squeeze her in a massive bear hug, not wanting to ever let her go.
“You fucking asshole!” a man yells.
I spin around. Marshall is storming toward me, his fists clenched.
“Oh my God,” Eloise says.
“Whoa, what are you doing here?” I demand, placing my body between Marshall and Eloise.
“What were you doing sending me that bitch?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Eloise grabs hold of my arms, her fingernails digging into me.
“Kaylee.”
Marshall reaches the back of my truck and stops. His nose flares as he breathes and his fists are clenched.
“Get the fuck out of here, Marshall. You know you’re not allowed to be here.”
“What’s the matter? Don’t want to fight in front of your new pussy because she doesn’t know what you’re really like?”
Eloise gasps at his words. Adrenaline surges through my body, but I have no desire to hit Marshall, only to hold Eloise.
“Calm the fuck down and get out of here. You’re breaking your restraining order.”
“You think I fucking care? I care about my business, and you tried to sabotage it.”
“Give me a break, I didn’t try to sabotage your business. You suck, there’s no need for me to do any sabotaging.”
Ordinarily by now I’d have broken his nose, but just having Eloise beside me relaxes me. I only wish she was just as relaxed.
“Then what the fuck was Kaylee?” he barks.
“A bitch who isn’t my problem anymore.”
“Well she’s my problem because of you.”
“I didn’t make you hire her.”
“You didn’t warn me about her.”
“So you should’ve phoned for a reference, now fuck off away from here.”
Eloise’s nails dig harder into my skin.
“She stole from a client while he was getting work done, and now he’s threatening to sue me because of her. This is bullshit.”
“Listen,” I say, stepping toward him at my full height. “Kaylee has nothing to do with me. Leave now before I…” Eloise whimpers and I decide not to threaten to cave his face in. “Before we phone the police and tell them you’re breaking the restraining order. Get your phone out, Jewel, and get ready to dial 911.”
“Cocksucker, you’re the one with the restraining order on you,” Marshall grumbles and turns away. He disappears around the corner of the building. I’m amazed how easily it was to get rid of him.
I spin around, intending to hold Eloise but she’s standing with her arms crossed over her chest, hugging herself.
“Don’t worry about him,” I say.
“Who was that? What’s going on with Kaylee? What did you mean a restraining order?”
“Come inside, I’ll tell you the story.”
“I don’t know that I want to. Do you have a restraining order on you?”
I exhale sharply and shake my head. “It’s a long story.”
“I’m listening.”
“Come inside, I will make you a drink.”
“I don’t want to drink, I want an explanation. That guy was crazy.”
“Exactly. He’s a crazy motherfucker who’s being a pain in my ass since I moved back here.”
Her eyes search mine, and I remain motionless. It must be a shock for her, she’s probably never even witnessed anything like that before.
“I thought you were going to hit him. I didn’t know you were like that. Right now I’m wondering who the real you is.”
“The real me is the guy who was at the house.”
Our eyes lock, and her chest heaves with her breath. She throws her arms up, and lets them fall back down.
“Fine, let’s go inside but you have to tell me everything.”
“I fired Kaylee that morning you first came here because I found out she was stealing from me. That’s why I made her leave immediately,” I say as I unlock the door to my apartment.
“So why was he mad?”
Eloise starts climbing the stairs, and I followed behind her.
“He subsequently hired her. That’s not my problem, he didn’t ask me for a reference.”
“But why didn’t you report her to the police?” She stops mid step, and twists around to face me.
“Let’s sit down first.”
“I don’t care about sitting down, I want answers.”
“And I told you, I will tell you everything but let’s sit down first.” I want her to calm down before I start telling her what she wants to know.
Eloise turns back and runs up the rest of the stairs. I hurry to keep up with her. She flops down on the La-Z-Boy, and crosses her arms in front of her.
I’m disappointed she didn’t sit on the futon. I stand in front of her chair before deciding it’s probably not good to tower over her, and I sit on the futon.
“When I moved here and opened my parlor, Marshall was pissed off he’d have more competition and so he smashed the windows in the front of my parlor. That’s why I have a restraining order against him.”
“But why does he have a restraining order on you?”
“Because when he was smashing the glass I was here, and I went down and confronted him.”
“You beat him up?”
“Yeah, but not until after he threw the first punch.”
“I don’t u
nderstand. There are more tattoo parlors in Rochester than just you two, why did he attack yours?”
“Because I was new. He was trying to scare me from opening. He’s a psycho.”
“And that’s why you didn’t tell him about Kaylee?”
I shrug. “He’s got a restraining order on me, I’m not allowed to contact him.”
“Plus you don’t care.”
“That too.”
“I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell the police about Kaylee. She broke the law. She stole from innocent people. You have an obligation to tell the police.”
“It’s not that easy. I hate her, I’d love to see her arrested. But she’s a single mom. I’m not going to be the one responsible for taking her son’s mother away. Kids need their parents.”
Eloise’s jaw softens, and she stands.
“Is that really the reason?” she asks, her voice soft.
I stand, and wrap my arms around her. “It is.”
“You really are the man from the lake house.”
“I am. I wish you hadn’t doubted me.” Why did she doubt me? I thought she could see who I am.
“It was the shock of that man coming here and yelling at us. Sorry.”
I lean over and press my lips against hers. I close my eyes, soothed by her. Eloise. The only person who’s ever been able to comfort me. Everything with us is perfect, I just have to get through the dinner with her parents.
31.Eloise
“I’m glad you stayed over last night,” Gabe says and kisses my cheek.
“You’re very persuasive.”
I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave if I came inside last night, but after Marshall’s screaming fit, I had to have an explanation. At least now I know the real reason Kaylee left.
Gabe is a kind man for not reporting her. Losing his own mother was hard for him. It’s easy to see all the ways it’s influenced his life.
“See you tonight,” Gabe says, and opens the door of my car.
“Bye.”
He shuts the door and I realize how painful the next nine hours are going to be because he won’t be with me. I can’t wait until I can move my days off, but I have to get all my existing appointments moved first.
Before I know it, I’m pulling into the parking lot. I drove all the way to work on autopilot, my mind too busy thinking about how amazing the weekend was.
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