There had been so much happen on this street in the previous two years – some of it in my house. I couldn’t deny that worry was a necessity.
Once I’d drained the life out of those thoughts, I thought again of Owen. I couldn’t help but notice that every thought I had of him came with a smile. The two were synonymous. And that wasn’t such a bad thing.
I made sandwiches for lunch, and the kids and I had a picnic in the back yard. We spread an old blanket on the ground under a large oak tree. We ate and talked there in the shade. I took it all in, memorizing the moment. Their laughter, their smiles, and the funny faces they made. They were so special to me.
I threw my head back to laugh at something Ethan said, and that’s when I saw him. Or at least I thought I saw him.
Bernie was peeking through the curtains at us. I swear he was.
I stopped laughing immediately and concentrated, trying to make him out better in the shadows. I wanted to be sure. Of course, even if he was looking out the window at us, what could I do about it? Go over and tell him he couldn’t look through his own windows? That was crazy.
I couldn’t be sure now if he was there or it was all shadows. I pushed it out of my mind before the kids noticed my apprehension. I went back to enjoying the picnic, back to waiting for Owen.
18 Bernie
I absolutely couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into the broad next door. I watched her sitting in her back yard with her brats. It looked like they were having a picnic. I looked at the clock. It wouldn’t be long now until I had a little picnic of my own.
I wondered what it would be like, doing her. I pegged her for a screamer and moaner, and if that was true, it was going to be a hoot and a holler tonight. I felt the bulge growing in my underwear and decided to stop thinking of her for a while. If I wasn’t careful, there wouldn’t be anything to give to her later.
I smelled my armpits. They stunk. I didn’t care, but I thought she’d like it better if I didn’t smell so much like a skunk.
I went to the bathroom, thinking about how this was going to go down. Sitting on the toilet taking a dump, I thought of what I’d wear. I didn’t have anything decent. I never needed anything decent. I never really went anywhere except the bar. And I had bar clothes. That was my least-stained jeans, a black button-down shirt that had faded to a dark grey, and scuffed cowboy boots. Surely, that’d be good enough for her. Besides, I wasn’t going to wear clothes for long.
I didn’t waste time wiping or flushing. I jumped in the shower. I remembered a time when there wasn’t mold and mildew growing in the shower. It was in that other lifetime of mine.
I never used wash rags. I just scrubbed with the cracked bar of soap, making sure to give my love nub a good scrubbing. I used the same soap to wash my hair. I grabbed a stiff towel off the floor and dried myself with it. Long ago, I would’ve used a fresh towel. It would’ve smelled clean and been soft on my skin. That was so long ago, I could barely remember what it had smelled and felt like. I didn’t care about those things anymore. I didn’t care about anything anymore.
I wiped some of the dust off the mirror to better see my reflection. I turned my face left and right, inspecting it. I could’ve stood to shave, but I didn’t feel like it. The only problem from not shaving would be the chafing of her neck and thighs. I didn’t figure she’d mind too much and I didn’t care at all. I slapped on some after-shave anyway. I rolled on what little deodorant I had left, not even picking the hairs off it. Who cared?
I sat on the edge of the bathtub and spread my legs. This was going to hurt. I used both hands, one on each side, and squeezed the boil on the inner thigh of my right leg. It hurt like hell, but it had to be done. I didn’t want to have to worry about it later.
When the boil popped open, I cussed more than a little. I grabbed the towel from the floor that I’d dried with and wiped the blood and pus on it, then threw the towel back on the floor. It felt better already.
I went to the bedroom to dress. As I walked past a full-length mirror in my bedroom, I noticed my boner. It surprised me. I hadn’t even been thinking of the broad. If I didn’t get her soon, I’d have to take matters into my own hands.
I admired myself in my reflection for a while. I couldn’t see anything about what I saw that she wouldn’t like. It was going to be a hell of a night.
I dressed in my bar clothes and went downstairs. I still had plenty of time before it was time to go next door. I went into the kitchen and rounded up some food. I was going to need my strength later. I hoped the can of vegetable soup I ate straight from the can would give me the strength I needed. If not, the three beers I washed it down with would.
I sat on the couch and watched TV, trying not to think of how close I was to getting the broad next door. I wondered if she was thinking about me as much as I was thinking about her. Had she showered? Did she shave down there? I was sure she did. She looked like the type.
Adjusting my jeans, I reminded myself to stop thinking about that. I had to save it.
I glanced at the clock. I still had a few hours. Time was going to drag by.
Maybe since I already had my bar clothes on, it wouldn’t hurt to go to the bar. But what if I got lucky? Would I still be able to do the broad? I glanced at my bulge and figured I probably could. But did I want to chance it? What if I was wrong? I’d hate to waste it on some other bimbo.
I didn’t need the bar. I had beer in the fridge. I fetched one and drank it. I went back for another, and guzzled it. I made another trip to the kitchen and grabbed two more. I had one of them down before I made it back to the couch. I made one last trip, grabbing only one beer this time. I stood at the fridge, door open, and gulped it down.
Belching loudly, I walked back to the living room and sat on the couch. I sighed and leaned my head back. I watched a cockroach crawl across the ceiling.
Maybe I’d take a little nap. After all, I was going to need my strength.
19 Jill
I lay on the couch in the fetal position. I wanted to catch Andy on his way to work. I still didn’t feel well at all. But I needed to talk to him.
I’d made his dinner and packed his lunch, as usual. I didn’t put as much effort into it as I usually did, though. I didn’t have the energy. His lunch was merely a sandwich, and his dinner was leftover meat loaf from yesterday. I knew he wouldn’t mind, as meat loaf was his favorite.
He’d fallen asleep before I made it home from the doctor. I didn’t want to wake him. I watched him sleeping for a few minutes, and I’d considered crawling into bed beside him and nestling myself into his warm arms. I had even taken a step toward the bed. I didn’t act on it, though. He needed his rest.
I made a mental note to tease him about cuddling with my pillow and went to the couch to sleep. I never slept during the day, but I was sick and drained of my strength. I would’ve slept in the guest bedroom, but I didn’t want to miss him on his way out.
I adjusted the cold, wet wash cloth on my forehead and tried to find sleep.
20 Owen
I woke at dusk. My internal clock was completely out of whack. I was confused as to what time it was, or even what day. Then, I remembered chasing Jenson with Andy earlier.
I also remembered Carla.
I rushed to shower and dress, not wanting to keep her waiting. Or me, for that matter. I couldn’t wait to see her. It felt like it had been forever, though I’d just been at her house last night.
I thought about grabbing a bite to eat, but I figured she’d have dinner waiting. Of course, if they had already eaten, I’d get pretty hungry.
I grabbed a granola bar and gobbled it down, followed by a glass of milk. That would hold me if I needed it to, and it wouldn’t make me full if she’d made dinner. That was middle-of-the-road food. I was covered either way.
I locked the door behind me and headed to Carla’s in the dark.
On the way, I thought about how I was going to get my sleep back on schedule. I was fully rested now, and I’d never be
able to sleep tonight. I guessed I’d probably be up when Andy got home in the morning and we’d go to bed at the same time. This meant that I’d sleep all day and be up all night tomorrow night too. This had to stop now before it went on so long it was impossible to fix. I marveled at Andy’s ability to work swing shift. I don’t know how he did it.
I walked past Bernie’s house slowly. There was a flicker through the window, which was unmistakable. He was watching television. It was odd for Bernie to be home and not at the bar.
I saw his shadow fall across the curtains. He was in there, all right. Maybe he was sick. It would serve him right for scaring the hell out of Carla like that.
I realized my fists were clenched as I thought of him. I forced them to relax, and I kept walking, putting Bernie as far out of my mind as I could. I didn’t want to think about him now. All I wanted to think about was Carla.
Oscar was lying on her porch, as if he belonged to her. He was probably happier at her house than any other on the street. She had kids. What dog didn’t like kids? I patted his head and scratched behind his ears, offering him a few ‘good boys’.
I rang the bell and the door was immediately jerked open. It was almost as if ringing the bell opened the door.
Carla was excited to see me, I could tell. It was in her eyes, in her smile, and in the way she looked at me. The look on her face matched how I felt. It wasn’t a big surprise when she bounced forward and threw her arms up around my neck. Without hesitation, I put my arms around her waist and hugged her tightly. It felt right, like that’s what we were supposed to do.
It had been so long since I’d hugged anyone. I’d hugged Holly. Once she was gone, Jill had hugged me a few times, and even Andy had given me one or two hugs. But those were sympathy hugs, and they didn’t count.
Though it only lasted a few seconds, the way Carla hugged me told me several things. First, it let me know she wanted the hug, because she initiated it. Then, it told me she felt safe enough and comfortable enough with me to be this close. Next, it allowed me to see that she was as eager for me to be here as I was. I didn’t have to feel like I was pushing myself on her by coming over any more. I knew now that she wanted me here. No more worrying that I was acting like Bernie. She wanted me.
I loved the way it felt to have her in my arms, pulled against me where I could protect her and keep her safe. I closed my eyes, memorizing the softness of her skin and the smell of her hair.
She closed the door behind me and led me into the dining room. She apologized for the kids having already eaten. They had been too hungry to wait for me, but she’d waited. We sat at the table and ate, mostly in silence. She kept smiling at me and that more than made up for the lack of conversation. It did puzzle me that she wasn’t saying much, but when I looked at her, I saw she was deep in thought. I matched her silence, not wanting to disturb her.
When we were finished with the pork chops and had the dishwasher loaded, she took my hand in hers and led me into the living room where Ethan and Shelby were sitting on the floor playing a board game. We sat on the couch, watching.
It would be a lie to say I didn’t like the way her hand felt, still nestled in mine, or the way her skirt pulled up just enough to show more of her thigh, or better yet, the way the heat of her thigh felt against mine. Even through my jeans, her warmth was unavoidable. I couldn’t ignore it. But I had to try. The kids were only a few feet from us.
After an hour or so, the kids reminded Carla of her promise to let them watch a movie. She made them each a bowl of popcorn and a pallet on the floor. She and I remained on the couch. The movie started and the kids’ attention turned completely to the screen.
Carla reclaimed her place beside me on the couch. I could feel her eyes on me throughout most of the animated film, but I didn’t mind. The kids fell asleep during the movie, but we left them where they were until it was over. Then, I carried them upstairs, one at a time. Carla tucked them in and kissed them goodnight. I waited in the doorway, watching her be a mother.
When she finished, we went down to the kitchen where she poured us each a glass of wine. I could feel her eyes following my every move. We drank the first glass of wine in the kitchen, and the second in the living room, sitting on the couch.
“It’s getting pretty late. I better let you get to bed,” I said, standing and walking to the door.
She followed me. “Owen, you don’t have to go.”
I turned to her, my hand on the door knob. I was going to tell her that she needed her rest and I didn’t want to keep her up and I didn’t want to overstay my welcome and she’d been more than nice enough...but I didn’t say anything. Before I had a chance to speak, she planted her lips firmly against mine. She held my face in place with a hand on each cheek, as if she was afraid I’d pull away.
Surprising me even further was the way she was kissing me. It wasn’t just a peck. She parted her lips and filled my mouth with her tongue. Although I was taken aback by her boldness, I didn’t hesitate to respond appropriately. I kissed her just as passionately, if not more so, than she kissed me.
We stood there for a while, kissing each other intensely. I didn’t want to stop. Ever. I could tell she felt the same way. It was more than the way she was kissing me. It was the fact that she’d wanted to kiss me so badly, she’d put herself out there and made the first move. It was the way she wound her fists in my hair and pulled slightly, just enough to drive me wild. It was also the way she pressed herself to me tighter, as if no matter how close we were together, it wasn’t close enough.
I loved the way she felt against me, her breasts firm against my chest. The smell of her was more than intoxicating. These things combined put me over the edge. There was no hiding my excitement from her now. I knew she felt it. In fact, I knew the exact moment she felt it. She stopped kissing me and smiled.
Then, she took my hand in hers and led me upstairs to her bedroom.
21 Bernie
I couldn’t pace fast enough to work off the anger that coursed through my veins. I needed to do something more than walk the floor. I looked around, frantic for something, anything to release this anger. I picked up the end table that sat beside the couch and hurled it across the room, beer bottles and all. It slammed against the wall, breaking the top and knocking off a leg. Who cared?
Who did that son of a bitch think he was? What could he possibly be doing over there? Again! That smug bastard was trying to edge me out. Well I wasn’t going to let that happen. I had more game than he did. I’m Bernie Bear, for crying out loud! Damn him to hell.
I ran to the refrigerator and threw open the door, slamming it against the table. I jerked a bottle of cold beer from inside and tore off the cap. I chugged the beer, trying to push down my anger. It didn’t work. I threw the empty bottle across the room, smashing it into a million pieces.
I looked out the window over the sink, scanning her windows for signs of them. Of course, I saw nothing. Her blinds were shut tight, as always. But I knew what was going on. Or at least what that damn Owen wanted to be going on. He hadn’t been with anyone since that crap with his ol’ lady, and now, of all the people in town, he chooses my broad. The broad next door to me. The same broad that had been sending me signals, wanting me to come over and give her what I had.
Didn’t he know that she wanted me? She’d been sending me signals, staring over here from time to time like she wanted me to come over. She was asking me for it. Hell, she was begging me to give it to her, and he was over there in the way.
Unless...what if she’d been sending him signals too? What if she was like the others? All those women at all those bars over the years that had come on to me, wanting and needing me, they said. I go to the john and come back, and they’re all over some other guy. All bitches. Bitches in heat, is what they were. They’d take the first dick that came along and act like they liked it, and then move on to the next guy before the gunk dried in their panties.
That whore! That’s fine. That’s okay. I’d g
et her. I had nothing else to do but wait. The longer I waited, the better it’d be, right? Waiting gave me more time to think of things I was going to do to her. Oh, the things I was going to do to her.
I watched out the window for a couple of hours, but Owen never left. Finally, I gave up. I wasn’t fond of wallowing in his leftovers anyway. The thought of having his gunk anywhere near my dick made my stomach turn. I’d go to bed for now and tomorrow night, I’d go over and show her what a real man can do. Owen’s ass couldn’t be over there all the time. He had to sleep. And while he was home sleeping, I’d be next door, banging the hell out of that broad.
22 Owen
As our breathing slowed, Carla snuggled up to me, resting her head on my chest. Just knowing that she was lying next to me naked was enough to get things going again. But I quickly stopped myself from thinking of anything that would chance ruining things between us. Sure, we’d just made love like crazed animals, but if I tried to take her again so soon, well, maybe she wasn’t ready for that.
“You don’t think badly of me now, do you?” she asked.
I assured her there was no way I would think less of her. We agreed that we really hadn’t known each other for long, but the feelings were there. It was as if we’d known each other forever. The level of comfort we shared said it all. Being together felt like home to us.
I stayed with her until she grew too tired to keep her eyes open. I promised to return tomorrow. She begged me to stay the night, which I wanted to do more than anything, but I knew she wouldn’t want the kids to see me here in the morning like this. It felt right for us, but would the kids feel the same way? I didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with them. It would be a shock for them to see a relatively new man in their house, possibly even in their mother’s room if they got up before we did, and we didn’t want to put them through that.
The Good Neighbor Page 7
