by Robin Leaf
“Dick was your word, not mine.”
I smiled. “Well…”
She continued to eat her cereal. I ate mine but watched her intently.
“Ugh. Fine.” She took her bowl to the sink and poured out the milk, washing it down. She walked to the other side of the bar, placed her hands on the counter, and sighed. “In high school, I had this crush on a boy. Cute, popular. Football player. He finally noticed me and started flirting with me. He was a senior and I was a sophomore. He broke up with his cheerleader girlfriend for me. I really liked him. He was sweet and charming and thoughtful. He never asked me out on a date though. And at school, he really didn’t talk to me, which was okay. I was in all honors classes, and it would have looked bad for me to be seen with a, quote, dumb jock.” I rolled my eyes. “Hey, I had a rep to protect, too. I was number four in my class, Nathaniel. That’s a lot of nerd pressure.”
“I bet.” I was number twelve in my class, but now was not the time to tell her that.
“Anyway, he really never pressured me, either. That’s what the funny thing is. I gave that stupid boy my virginity willingly, which hurt like a mother, by the way, and I was just as stupid because I believed him when he told me he loved me. He did. He said he loved me, and I believed him.” She laughed bitterly. “But I didn’t hear from him after that. Ever. Found out he never left his girlfriend, which how she didn’t find out, I’ll never understand since I heard other girls talking and he did the same thing to them, apparently trying to rack up as many virgins as he could. So, that’s the point when I decided to keep my focus solely on my education.”
“Good plan,” I said, hiding the sarcasm I felt.
“But I realized that I’m a little bit of a hypocrite. Last night, I castigated you…”
“Castigated?” I covered my crotch.
“Not the same as castrated. It’s an SAT word, look it up.” I didn’t change my position, so she rolled her eyes. “I criticized you for what you do when I did the exact same thing, three times now. I’ve been with three guys just for sex.” That hurt. “Four total, only two less than you.” Well, six less, but who’s counting? “So it is wrong of me to say anything to you about your extracurricular activities.” She smiled and elbowed me in the side. “Forgive me, man whore?”
I stood and kissed her forehead quickly. “Forgiven, slut.”
“Hey, I’m not a…” she grinned. “Oh right, joke. Sorry.”
I rinsed my bowl out in the sink and put both my bowl and hers in the dishwasher, yet another minor irritation; she never put her dishes in the dishwasher.
“So, girls talk, huh?”
She rolled her eyes. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask.” She moved to the couch, covered herself with a blanket and grabbed a textbook off the coffee table.
I sat down on my side of the couch and covered myself with the other end of the blanket. “Well? Are you gonna tell me?”
She closed her book. “There’s a girl in my Anatomy class who said she’s been with you, that’s all.”
“And…”
“And she didn’t give me details, Nathaniel. I’m pretty sure she was trying to make me jealous, actually. She heard me tell someone that I lived with you, and she sweetly stopped me on my way out of class. She waited until most of the people had left to tell me that you two had been together recently. Said she would want to know if her boyfriend was cheating on her.” She opened her book again. “Her attitude changed quickly, and she became really rude, rather venomous really. Said that was why she didn’t date since most men were cheaters. I assured her that we were not romantically involved and that you were, in fact, not most men.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Now, if that’s all, I’d like to catch up on…”
“Thanks. For sticking up for me.” I grabbed my own textbook. “You didn’t have to do that.”
She didn’t look up. “I know.”
I now had more insight into Etta Fontella Sullivan. I had to work hard to further prove to her that I’m definitely not most men.
Fourteen
November 22, last year
Meet me at the clinic at 9:00 a.m. Be prepared to get in the water.
That was the text from Etta last night. Apparently her number didn’t change either.
Luckily the weather was still warm, even for a Texas November day, so swimming wasn’t a completely ridiculous idea. Luckily, a cool front was scheduled to come thorough later in the afternoon, which was fortunate for the upcoming holiday. It’s hard to get in the spirit of Turkey Day when I’m sweating my ass off.
It was the staff’s Friday off, and I was really looking forward to being alone with her so we could continue to find that familiarity we’d come close to finding during our Thursday lunches. She was really good at acting nothing but professionally friendly at the clinic. Only at lunch did she show the Etta I used to know.
Going to a public pool really didn’t appeal to me. I always hated public pools, even as a kid. Yet here I was, driving into the parking lot at 8:52 a.m. this Friday morning, just to be with her. She was leaning on her car, cup in hand, casually drinking, waiting on me. She pushed off her car and waited for me to stop before she opened my car door.
“How nice of a girl have I been?” she asked, hopeful expression on her face.
I got out of the car and raised my eyebrows. “Why?”
“Because you said if I was really nice, I could drive your car.” She bounced on her toes.
I had to laugh. She looked so fucking cute, like a little kid. No way was I telling her no.
“Wait, do you know how to handle a stick?”
“Nathaniel,” she stuck her hand on her hip, “I’ve been handling a stick since I was sixteen.” She paused. “Oh wait, you meant the car. Well, the same age applies.”
I rolled my eyes. “Jeez, Eddie, really? That joke? Lame.”
“You’re lame! Unless you let me drive. Then you’ll be the coolest person ever.” She looked up at me through her lashes, put her hands behind her back and swayed. “Please, Nathaniel?” Out came the pouty lip.
I sighed, pretending to cave. “Fine.” I put the keys in her hand. “But no speeding and watch the curbs and the pot holes.”
“Yay!” she jumped and kissed me on the cheek. I watched her get into the car, all cute and excited. Wow.
I looked over at her car for the first time. Red BMW X5 M. I actually looked at that same make and model when I shopped for cars.
“You know, you mentioned how I bought a ridiculously expensive sports car, yet you spent almost as much on your Beemer as I did on this. Hypocritical much?”
She adjusted the mirrors and the seat. Shit, I would be readjusting forever.
“Suck it, Slaughter. I was on a roll at the time.”
“Seriously? You’re telling me to suck it after I agreed to let you drive my baby? I haven’t let anyone else drive it yet, and I have no problem keeping it that way.”
“Sorry.” She started the car and backed out. “Why did it take you so long to buy something like this? I would have bought a flashy car first chance I got as soon as they paid me all that money.” She drove out of the parking lot.
I frowned. “You know how I was raised, Eddie. It took me forever to even consider owning anything but a practical car. I kept hearing Tammy Brown Slaughter Sandoval in my head…”
“Sandoval? Oh yeah, Jake mentioned she remarried.”
“Yes. Joseph Sandoval, my investment guy. I introduced them a few years ago when I was here after the season ended. She wanted someone better to manage her money. They got married this past January. He’s a widower, has two teenage daughters and is almost eight years younger than she is.”
“Way to go, Tammy.” She glanced at me. “Are you okay with her getting remarried?
“Yeah, now I am. I wasn’t when they told me about it, but he makes her happy. He’s a good man. Really the age thing is my only hang up.”
“Aren’t you the one being a little hypocritical now?”
&
nbsp; “How?”
“Well, that underwear model you dated?” she said disgustedly. “What was she, like 19?” She entered the freeway heading south.
I blinked a few times before answering. “That was different.”
She gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white. She shot me a repulsed look and began shouting at me. “Oh, so it’s okay for a man to date someone younger, but when a woman does it, it’s considered wrong? Or worse, she gets branded a cougar or some other degrading title? What a double standard!” She down shifted and started driving faster. “How is what you did any different?”
“Because I didn’t marry her,” I countered calmly. “In fact, I was never serious about her at all. And please slow down.”
She threw her hands up and re-gripped the wheel. “Damn Nate, have you ever been serious about anyone?”
“YES! I WAS!” I shouted. She shot her narrowed, angry eyes my direction. Once she looked at me, her face softened. I held her gaze, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It didn’t work out,” I admitted quietly. “The timing was wrong.”
She looked back at the road, slowing down. Neither one of us spoke for a long time. I could tell that she was deep in thought. So was I. In fact, I was so lost that I wasn’t paying attention to the drive at all. Somewhere in my brain it occurred to me that she never told me where we were going. I, like a blind trusting fool, just got in the car and went with her willingly. Some things never change.
When she stopped and turned off the car, I snapped out of my musings to check the scenery. We were pulled up in front of a seemingly spacious one-story home in nicely landscaped, gated neighborhood.
“Where are we?” I asked.
She opened the car door, not making eye contact with me. “My house.”
“I figured we were going to a public facility.”
She looked back at me and smiled. “I know how much you hate public pools.”
I grabbed my bag out of the back seat and followed her to the front door.
“I usually use the campus pool for therapy. I’m working on getting money to purchase the land next to the clinic for an indoor pool.” She unlocked the door and turned back to me. “Brace yourself for Giles. He sometimes forgets his manners.”
I laughed nervously. “Giles? Please tell me you don’t have a butler.” Or a douchy-named boyfriend.
Out of nowhere, I was pushed backward on my ass, tackled by at least 150 pounds of a blur of orangeish-brown. I gasped for breath, which was made incredibly hard due to large tongue slurping my face.
“Not exactly a butler,” Etta giggled. “Nathaniel, meet Giles.” She grabbed the collar and easily dragged the monster off me. “Inside. Sit. Stay.” Giles looked disappointed, but he obeyed. She offered me a hand to help me stand. “Shit, is your knee okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“I’m fine.” I followed her inside and never took my eyes off the behemoth. He looked like the dog from Turner and Hooch. “That name does not fit this moose.” I wiped my face with the towel she handed me. “Giles, really?”
“Yes. He’s my watcher.” She massaged his ears and kissed his nose. When she noticed my confused look, she added. “All those nights we sat up and watched every episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and you don’t remember the guy who trained her, her watcher? His name was Giles. Remember?”
I remembered the nights on the couch vividly. It’s just that what we watched was irrelevant.
I must have still looked confused. “C’mon, you bought me the entire series on DVD for Christmas. I watched it almost every night.”
“Yes, I remember.” I smiled. “But I look at that horse and see a stronger name, like ‘Grunt’ or ‘Fang.’ Giles isn’t even in the top ten.”
“It’s lucky you didn’t name him then.” She gave him one last pat and led me out to the backyard, where a nicely landscaped, very large pool shimmered. “I turned the heater on earlier. Even though it’s been warm, the pool was cold this morning, and that wouldn’t be good for what we need to do. There is a bathroom over there in the pool shed if you need to change. I’ll be back out in a minute, then we can get started.”
I nodded and watched her walk into the house. Then I remembered what Etta looked like in a bikini. Aw, shit.
The pool shed was actually a small room decorated like an office, complete with a desk, a chair and a small couch. The bathroom was off to the side. Touches of Etta were evident in the decorating, jazz and blues posters everywhere. I didn’t pay attention to how her house was decorated. Of course it wasn’t abnormal for me not to notice anything when she was around.
I changed into my short sleeved, black dry-fit t-shirt and my swim trunks. I came prepared. The tattoo would stay covered today.
After I changed, I stood next to the pool waiting. Etta emerged from the house, bathing suit covered by a t-shirt. Damn. Her legs were visible though, all tanned and toned. My imagination flashed an image of those legs wrapped around me.
Giles bounded around her, all excited. She gave him a command, and he ran, full strength, flapping jowls and all, toward the pool and leaped in, and a wall of water splashed me.
“Sorry about that.” Her face indicated she was trying hard not to laugh.
I wiped my face. “No, you’re not.”
She chuckled. “No, I’m really not.” She continued to giggle as she stepped into the water. “You can get in.”
Giles had made his way over to an area of the pool that was only a foot deep and was sitting, awaiting further instructions.
“Is he just going to sit there and watch?” I asked. “Or did you train him to make fun of me?”
“No, he’s going to help.” She walked over to the ledge and sat next to Giles. “I’ve been training him to do this with me, and I wanted to test his training on you.”
“So again, I’m your guinea pig? Some things never change.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m glad you’re wearing a shirt, because without it, this may be uncomfortable.” She hopped down into the water and gave Giles a command. He carefully climbed on her back, piggy back style. She began walking around the pool with the dog on her back. It was kind of a funny sight. “First I want you to walk a few laps around the pool with us. Use the resistance of the water to work against your muscles. Once you do that, we will work a few water resistance exercises on the ledge. Then I want to see if Giles will do this with you.”
We both did the exercises she recommended. Sometimes she touched my legs to correct the movements. It made me want to continue doing them wrong just to get her to keep touching me, but I knew she’d be smart enough to catch on.
As we did the exercises, she asked, “Has Jake talked to you yet?”
I looked at her curiously. “About what?”
She bit her lip. I could tell she was debating about what to say. “About to…” She looked away. “About Ashley?”
I stopped what I was doing and looked at her. She refused to look me in the face. “No, he hasn’t said a word in a while.”
She shrugged. “Hmmm. Interesting.” She jumped down off the ledge and called Giles over.
She explained how to get Giles to climb on my back. He did. It felt weird, but I could really feel the working of my muscles with the extra weight from the dog.
At half a lap, I asked, “You planning on using this in your clinic?” I felt ridiculous, and probably looked worse. Just proves I’d do anything for this woman.
“No,” she answered simply, turning away from me.
“Then why am I here?”
“I’m really testing out the new exercises I developed, the ones we did on the ledge.” She bit her lip and a giggle escaped. “I just wanted to see how far you’d go with this.” I stopped dead and she bent over laughing. “It really does look silly.”
Once I got to the ledge, the dog took the cue to get off my back. Then I took off after Etta. She tried to swim away from me, but I caught her ankle and pulled her back toward me. “Nate, I reall
y wouldn’t do this if I were you.” I heard Giles growl, low pitched and menacing. I looked at him; yep, he looked as scary as he sounded. I quickly let go of Etta. “See, he’s my watcher. Now unless you go make friends, he will see you as a threat to me.” She patted me on the shoulder. “Trust me, you don’t want that.” She swam toward the dog and rubbed his ears. “See, I’m fine.” She turned toward me and motioned me over. “Nathaniel just wants to play.” At the word play, Giles stood, his ears perked up and he bounced out of the pool. He ran around the yard until he found a ball and leaped back in the pool. He brought it to me and dropped it in the water in front of me. “Throw it for him.”
“Where, in the pool?”
She leaned back on her arms. “Wherever you want. He’ll get it, and he’ll wear you out before he gets tired.”
I grabbed the ball. Giles’ eyes widened and he jumped around me, splashing us both. Etta giggled and it made me smile. I threw the ball hard to the corner of her yard. Giles leapt out of the water, chasing the ball almost as fast as I threw it.
It really felt good to throw again.
I continued to throw the ball through our conversation.
“Where did you get him?” I asked her, motioning toward Giles.
“In the clinic. One of the grants I received was a to develop a therapy program for arthritis patients. Mrs. Donaldson was one of my research subjects. She received the treatment for free, but she was so grateful that she could finally walk without pain that she offered me pick of the litter for helping her, which was very generous since the puppies are expensive. She insisted, and you know I’ve always wanted a dog.”
“Yes, to keep you warm. I remember how you were always cold.”
She laughed. “He’s not allowed in the bed. He snores, he takes over, and he is a pillow hog. You should also remember how much of a bitch I am without sleep.”
“Yes, but I wonder if Giles has learned how once you are asleep, you don’t wake up for anything, like I did.”
She raised her eyebrows at me. “Do I even want to know?”
I smiled. “Probably best you didn’t.”
