Paradise Park

by Carolina Mac

  Lonnie spent Thursday cleaning his trailer like a madman. He changed the sheets, did loads of laundry, changed the bedding in the sleeper, did loads of laundry. Vacuumed, shopped for beer, bought food he could make on the barbeque for unexpected company, cut the grass, pulled weeds, cut her grass, pulled her weeds. Sat on the deck, drank Coors, smoked and waited.

  After a half dozen beers, a morose thought struck him like a thunderbolt. Fuck, what if she has a boyfriend? And, why wouldn’t she? Look at her. Dammit, how could he be so stupid? Maybe that was her boyfriend’s truck. Course, it was. Had to be. How many girls had trucks like that? None that he ever knew. He was fucked.

  He took his guitar out of the case and started to pick and sing some hurtin songs. He sang George Jones’ sad songs and drank more beer. He sang Hank Williams’ heart broke songs and drank more beer. He felt worse than he had ever felt in his life. He was wasted. He closed his eyes and hoped to die in his misery.

  Ted barked and ran to the door with his tail wagging. Ted never wagged his tail for anybody but Lonnie. He was selective and not free and loose with his favors in any way. Lonnie woke with a start, his guitar still across his lap and picks still on his fingers. He put the Fender aside, annoyed at the intrusion and stomped to the door. His co-ordination was a little off after a dozen Coors and he flung the door wide open. He stared at the woman standing in front of him and thought he was hallucinating.

  “Hey cowboy.” That husky voice sent the warm honey running down the veins inside his legs.

  He grabbed onto the door frame for support.

  “You okay? You look drunk,” she giggled and he thought he was going to go blind.

  He pushed the screen door open and let her brush past him. He inhaled it…the perfume that took him to another place. He watched her hugging Ted, kissing his head and stroking his ears. It must be a dream. She couldn’t be here.

  “You are the best boy, Ted.” She hugged him again and Ted grunted. He was lapping it up. She snuggled on the sofa with the dog and patted the seat beside her. “Come on, cowboy, you can trust me.” She winked at him and Lonnie sat down. The warm feeling filled his groin.

  “I…I can’t believe you’re here,” he whispered.

  “Why?” she pushed Lonnie’s shaggy dark hair out of his eyes so she could see them.

  Lonnie shrugged. Unable to think of any words to say he just stared. He wasn’t helping the conversation at all.

  “What are you drinking, cowboy?”

  “Coors, want one?”

  “Sure do.”

  Lonnie pulled it together long enough to make it to the fridge. “Glass?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He reached into the cabinet to get a glass and slowly poured the beer down the side. When he turned, she was right beside him looking up into his eyes. “Can we talk?”

  “We can do anything you want to do,” he said in a whisper, thinking he could die happy. He sat down at the table and Grace sat down opposite him.

  She took a good long pull on her beer and exhaled. “I hardly know you, and I have to ask you a huge favor.”

  Lonnie tried to think what she would want but it didn’t matter, he was doing it even if it was illegal, immoral or voodoo related.

  “My moving day is tomorrow and I rented a cube van. I’m going to load my truck as well and I was wondering if you would consider helping with the move. I can pay you.”

  “I won’t take money from you, but I’d be happy to help. Where are you moving from?”

  “Oshawa. I’ll bring the first load up in my truck and pick you up while the guys at the other end load the cube. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds amazing.” Lonnie stared into her violet eyes and lost himself. He wished he wasn’t so fucking drunk.

  “Amazing? Usually moving and amazing don’t belong in the same sentence.”

  Lonnie grinned. “I like your truck. It looks amazing.”

  “You’re a cutie, cowboy. How many Coors have you had tonight?”

  “Way too many.” He chuckled. “Could I get you another cold one?”

  “One more and I’ve got to go finish up. Moving is hell.”

  “You got that right.” Lonnie fetched more beer while Grace stroked Ted’s large head which was positioned firmly on her knee. He was in love too.

  She drained her glass and kissed Ted on the top of his head. “I’ll be up here with the first load as soon as I get the key from the lawyer’s office.”

  “I’ll be ready.” Lonnie stood grinning. He walked her out and watched her jump up onto the running board of her leviathan truck.

  LONNIE WAS OUT of bed at the crack of dawn. He was hung over bad, and needed a shit load of coffee. Fuck, if he knew he was going to spend the day with Grace, he wouldn’t have chugged so much beer. He wanted to make a good impression. This was the woman of his dreams. Last night when she was talking to him at the kitchen table—this very kitchen table—he thought she was educated and older than him by a bit. How much, he didn’t care. He was twenty-five and she couldn’t be more than thirty. He was up half the night thinking about her. She was all over Ted and he was jealous.

  He was on his second pot of extra strong coffee when there was a knock on the door and Ted was barking aggressively—his every woof laced with hate.

  “Shit, she’s early, Ted.” Lonnie opened the door and his smile faded. April was standing there glaring back at him. He frowned. Holy shit, she was ugly. How did he ever think she was pretty? Where had he been looking? Maybe a few weeks ago he had no marker. Now after meeting Grace the bar was higher. Higher than it had ever fuckin been. “Hi April.”

  No greeting from April. “Are you going to paint your living room?” she asked without a smile. “If you are, I need to know so I can schedule the job for July.”

  “Umm…no, I think I’m going to wait. Thanks for the estimate.”

  She wheeled and stomped across the deck and down the steps without a word.

  “Holy hell, Ted, just missed that nightmare by a hair.”

  An hour later Lonnie was sitting on the deck with yet another cup of black coffee when Grace turned off the highway and skillfully backed her loaded truck up to the deck of her newly purchased home. She shut the engine down and looked his way with a huge smile on her face. “Hey, sugar pop. Ready to rumble?”

  “In your whole life, Ted, did you ever see anything so beautiful?” Lonnie grinned and ambled over to help her unload.

  The end of June was hot. It was nine-thirty in the morning and already in the eighties. Grace was wearing black hacked off shorts hanging ragged on her amazing tanned legs and a gray army tank that could barely contain her upper assets. For a small girl, she was loaded with all the right stuff. Lonnie thought he’d go mental before the day was done.

  “Most of the boxes are marked. Doesn’t matter, though. It’ll be one huge mess that will take me weeks to straighten out,” she said in that husky, sexy voice.

  They unloaded all the boxes from her pickup, a few mirrors and lamps from the front seat. “All my computer stuff is in the back of the cab. That’s the important stuff.” She jumped up in the back seat, bent forward and handed stuff to Lonnie and he couldn’t think. He tried not to look down her top but it was too late. He was hard and prayed she wouldn’t notice. His first thought was to pull his shirt down lower, but both arms were loaded and he didn’t have a free hand.

  She stepped out of the back seat, stood on the running board and touched his face. “You look a little bit pale. We better take a break.”

  “I’m fine…kind of fine.”

  Grace opened a couple of Cokes and pointed for Lonnie to sit on the steps. He took a big swig, set the can down and lit up a smoke.

  “You’re hung over, cowboy, and you’re sweating like a good thing. Why don’t you take your shirt off?”

  “Could do.” Lonnie whipped his shirt over his head and Gracie had a close-up look at his muscled-up arms and his rock-hard abs.

  She smiled at h
im. “You seem kind of shy,” she said with that throaty voice that made him hot. “You should be flaunting a body like that. You’re beautiful, cowboy, and I love your tats.”

  “Thanks.” He sucked in a huge gulp of warm air as she ran her hand down the dragon’s red flaming tongue on his upper arm. Whenever she touched him he got that electric honey feeling. Warm, thick shocks zapping him.

  “My yard’s looking good.” She waved her arm around. “You have anything to do with that?”

  “Umm… I might have mowed it when I mowed mine.”

  “Uh huh. You might have? Thank you for that. I can spot a nice guy when I run across one. There aren’t that many out there.”

  Lonnie grinned. She thought he was nice.

  “You ready to roll? We better go before I lose focus,” she whispered and Lonnie’s limbs turned to Jell-O.

  He gave her his best smile. “For sure, we better.”

  “Want to drive?”

  “Can I? I’d love to get a feel for her.”

  “Go ahead. I don’t mind.” She jumped in the passenger side and Lonnie started the engine.

  “What about Ted?” she asked pointing out the window. Lonnie had lost his mind. He’d left Ted standing on the driveway, looking up at the truck and wondering what was happening.

  “I better put him in the trailer.”

  “He can come.”

  Lonnie whistled and opened the back door. Ted wasted no time jumping in.

  THE CUBE VAN was loaded when they arrived at the Oshawa duplex Grace was moving out of. She shared the place with her brother, Jerry, and his girlfriend Kate was moving in with him. Kate was a pretty girl, tall and slim with honey brown hair tied back in a ponytail. Jerry was coming north to help unload at the trailer and returning the cube van to the rental outlet. Kate was staying at the duplex to straighten up the mess. The boys loaded Grace’s pickup with everything that was left and the two trucks headed north.

  After everything was unloaded and the trailer was stuffed to the rafters with boxes, Grace opened the cooler and spread out sandwiches, Cokes and beer on the picnic table.

  “You live next door?” Grace’s brother asked Lonnie. He was a big guy. A lot taller than his sister with the same dark hair and eyes. He was well-muscled and had a few tats.

  “Yep, me and Ted live right there.”

  “Will you keep watch on Gracie for me? I don’t like her up here all alone. I told her she didn’t have to move out just because Kate was moving in with me. But she wanted her own place to do her writing and… she has a mind of her own.”

  “For sure, I’ll watch out for her,” Lonnie grinned.

  “Jerry, I don’t need anybody watching over me. I’m twenty-eight years old.”

  “You’re a beautiful girl and you live alone. That’s all it takes to spell danger.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on her for you, Jerry. So will Ted.”

  Jerry finished his beer and set the can down. “Ted much of a watch dog?”

  “Pretty much. Uh huh. He hates strangers.”

  Jerry left in the cube van and Grace opened two more beers. “You don’t have to go yet, do you cowboy?”

  “Nope, I’m good,” said Lonnie, happy to stay on her porch for the rest of his natural life. “What do you write about?”

  “I’m a fiction writer. Crime fiction.”

  “Sometimes I read those when I’m on a long haul. TV every night gets boring and I like to have a book with me.”

  Her violet eyes widened. “You have TV in your truck?”

  “Uh huh. A small one. Sometimes the reception is bad. Sometimes okay.”

  “You seem like an easy-going guy, Lonnie.”

  “I guess I’m kind of quiet. Don’t do anything exciting.”

  “I came up here to have a quiet environment to work in. Having a quiet guy next door suits me fine.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

  He grinned. “I have a confession to make.”

  “What?” She giggled. “You’re really a serial killer?”

  He chuckled. “Sometimes I play my guitar at night and I’ve had a couple of complaints from people on the other side of the hill.”

  “Do you sing?”

  “Only when nobody is listening.”

  “Maybe you’ll play for me some time.”

  “Maybe I will. That’ll be a first.” Lonnie lit a smoke.

  “I better go and straighten a few things up or I won’t be able to go to bed tonight. Thanks for helping me today.”

  “Want me to help you with anything inside?”

  “No, I’m tired and I think I need to make the bed and sleep. It’s been a long day.”

  “Make sure you lock your door. Your brother is worried about you.”

  “Maybe I’ll get a dog. One that Ted would like.”

  Lonnie eyeballed Ted to see if he had heard. “That would be another first.” Lonnie waited at the bottom of the steps until he heard the lock click and then he sauntered next door happier than he had ever been in his entire life. He was knee deep in love.

  CHAPTER SIX

  MARG WOKE WONDERING where in hell she was. The room was cramped and dark. The past few days had been hell—she felt like a gypsy. Then she remembered and let out a breath. Oh, yeah, Sheila’s spare room. The second bedroom in a single wide trailer wasn’t really a bedroom at all, just a tiny space not big enough for a bed and dresser. The space was eight by eight at the most. Marg was wedged in like a sardine but at least she had a tiny space of her own and a bit of privacy. Alone time was what she needed right now to plan her next move.

  She used the bathroom and headed to the kitchen. School was out for the summer and Sheila was on vacation. Marg was content to have a friend she could count on. Gary was not one of them.

  “Hey girl, want a coffee?” said Sheila. She was dressed in shorts and a tank that showed off her non-existent assets. Her body was typical of a twelve-year-old boy.

  “Yeah, thanks,” said Marg plunking down on a kitchen chair. “Need to ask you a favor.”

  “What?” Sheila placed a mug of coffee in front of Marg.

  “Go over with me today while I pack up the rest of my stuff? If you’re there, Gary won’t be so fuckin mean to me.”

  Sheila frowned. “Sure, I can do that. I’m not afraid of the miserable asshole.”

  “Now that his bad-ass brother is out of the slam and staying with him, Gary is meaner than he ever was—showing off his big balls in front of his little brother.”

  “What does his brother look like?” Sheila sat down with a coffee across from Marg.

  “Good lookin biker. Long hair, tats. He’s a lot younger than Gary. You’d do him, Sheila.”

  “Right about now, I’d do anybody that could get it up. Eight to eighty, crippled, blind or retarded. I’m not picky.”

  Marg laughed, broke into a coughing jag and stepped out onto the deck for a smoke.

  After Marg was dressed, Sheila drove the two of them over to Gary’s trailer in her ten-year-old Toyota, hauling a couple of empty suitcases to pack up Marg’s belongings.

  Gary and Rob were lounging in chairs on the deck drinking beer when the girls arrived.

  “You guys are getting an early start,” said Sheila.

  “Early start on the weekend,” slurred Gary and Sheila knew they’d been at it for a while. “Hey, you must be Sheila.”

  “I am. Nice to meet you, Gary. And this is your brother?”

  “My bad-ass little brother, Robbie.” Gary leaned over and poked his brother. “Say hi, Robbie.”

  Robbie was very drunk and could hardly lift his head off his chest. “Hi,” he mumbled.

  “He likes you,” said Gary.

  “I bet,” said Sheila. “We just came over to pack up Marg’s stuff. Okay if we go in?”

  “Sure. Don’t take anything of mine or I’ll fuckin know it,” he hollered.

  “I don’t want any of your useless shit, Gary,” Marg hollered back at him. “None of its worth a f
uckin nickel.”

  Gary weakly waved a fist in the air. “Watch your mouth, Margie. I’m warning you.”

  Marg took a step closer to Gary and pointed a finger in his face. “Yeah, and I’m warning you, asshole, I’m done with you telling me what to do.”

  Sheila shoved Marg into the kitchen and closed the screen door. “Don’t tick him off before you get your stuff, girl. That’s not too bright.”

  “Yeah, let’s pack my clothes and get the hell out of here. I never want to see that bastard again unless I’m looking down at him in his coffin.”

  Sheila raised an eyebrow. “That’s harsh.”

  Ten minutes later all of Marg’s worldly goods were zipped into a Wal-Mart suitcase and the girls left the way they came in. Rob had fallen asleep in his chair and spilled the contents of his beer down the front of his shirt. Gary sat with his short legs stretched out in front of him, wearing reflector shades and smoking.

  Marg hauled the big suitcase to Sheila’s car without saying a word. Sheila, carrying two plastic bags of odds and ends was following three or four steps behind Marg and was startled when Gary reached out and grabbed her scrawny arm as she walked by him.

  “Hey, baby, let’s say you and I have a drink later on. I can be a fun guy. Marg probably told you that already.”

  “For sure, she did, Gary. Matter of fact, she told me a lot about you. I’ll have to seriously think about your offer.” Sheila gave him a fake smile.

  “You think about it and we’ll talk later.” Gary released Sheila’s arm and blew her a kiss. She booked it to the car, tossed the bags into the back seat and slid behind the wheel.

  “Gary hitting on you?” asked Marg.

  Sheila sucked in a breath and started the engine. “He wants to get together later.”

  Marg curled her lip. “Jesus, Sheila would you want him?”

  “I don’t know,” she giggled.

  “You watch yourself, girl. He can be a bastard. You don’t want any broken bones.”

  “Broken bones? Bullshit. That’s hard to believe. He doesn’t seem that bad.”

  Marg shrugged. “You can have him. He’s meaner than a junkyard dog.”

  LONNIE PAID FOR gas at the truck stop in Napanee, and let Ted out for a run behind the picnic tables before they headed back to Toronto. The cell phone clipped to his belt signaled a message. Fuck, text message. I never get those.