Hell Hath No Fury

by M. J. Schiller

  “Hey! That’s mine.”

  I looked at her. “Yes. Yes, it is.” I pulled it out and gave it to her. “Now. If you let me have your key, I’ll help you open the door and give it right back, okay?”

  She stared at me mutely for a second then nodded loosely. She put both palms on her ass. “Where’s my key?”

  “Oh, no. Not this again.”

  “I had it….”

  I spotted it on the floor and retrieved it. I was tired of the whole situation, so instead of explaining what I was doing, I opened it real fast. I held it open, waiting for her to pass, but instead she grabbed onto the door frame with one hand. “I don’t feel…” And just like that she crumpled to the floor.

  “Oh, shit! Oh, shit. Uhh…” What do I do?

  I got on my knees next to her and attempted to bring her to. “Dana? Dana? Come on, honey. You need to open your eyes.”

  I mean, is this one of those pass-out drunks you wake up from and tell stories about, or is it one of those where the person never wakes up and you read about them in the newspaper? Do I call 911?

  “Dana?”

  She groaned, and I exhaled. I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath.

  “Okay. We need to get you to the bed.”

  I tucked my hands under her and scooped her close to my body. But lifting her—totally deadweight—from the ground then standing was difficult.

  “Mmm…what are you doing?”

  My patience was wearing thin. “I’m trying to get you into bed.”

  Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled. “Well you don’t have to try that hard. I think you’re cute.”

  “Well, that’s nice and all, but I could use a little help here. Can you put your arms around my neck?”

  She closed her eyes but complied. On the way to clumsily clasping me around my neck she found my cheek and patted my face with a giggle. I had to chuckle.

  “I’m glad you find this amusing, darling.” I took a deep breath. “Okay. On the count of three.” I don’t know why I said it. It wasn’t like we were actually doing this together. All she had to do was hold on. I guess I was encouraging myself. “One, two….” I hefted her but kind of bobbled her and had to use my knee to boost her some and get her into a more comfortable position. I entered the room and scooted over to her bed. “You’re a handful. You know that?”

  She chuckled and opened her eyes. “I’m making you work for it, aren’t I?”

  I laughed. “Yes, you’re making me work for it.” But it ain’t happening. For a number of reasons.

  One, I’m married and I love my wife. Two, I don’t know if you are physically capable of that right now. And three, even if you were, it would be wrong to take advantage of you in this condition.

  She’d left a light on, which I was grateful for. At least I didn’t have to stumble around in the dark. I plopped her on the mattress and caught my breath from the struggle, putting a hand on my back where I knew it would be sore. Lifting her…hundred and twenty plus pounds, I guess, was way different from lifting that much in the gym, where the weight was evenly distributed. And I wasn’t exactly watching my form, either, as I hauled her ass to the bed. I eyed her. Her shirt was twisted tightly under her, which looked uncomfortable. I bent to fix it and decided to check on her injury to see if I should be concerned about that, but not a mark was on her.

  You’d think that would leave a bruise.

  I gently pressed along the area and she didn’t react.

  Although at this point I could shoot a cannon and you wouldn’t react.

  I popped her shoes off. She’d break her neck if she needed to make it to the bathroom. She giggled, which startled me as she seemed dead to the world seconds before.

  “That tickles.”

  What does? …Never mind.

  Her hair was all in her face and crazy, so I brushed it back so she could breathe more freely.

  Man, girl. You’ve done a number on yourself. You will be HURTING in the morning. Which reminds me….

  I searched for a trash can, but not seeing one, grabbed the one from the bathroom and put it beside her head on the floor.

  Good night.

  As I walked to the door I realized how tired I was. I couldn’t let it affect my work tomorrow. I would definitely have to grab a nap. I walked through the door and was letting it close behind me when something flashed through my mind and I quickly stuck my foot in the crack to keep it from closing and locking. I had read an article on the plane on the way to Anaheim about a college student who got trashed at a fraternity party as part of a freshman hazing thing. His frat brothers had left him on a couch in the basement on his side. They strapped a backpack on him to keep him from rolling over—which was pretty brilliant for a bunch of drunk frat boys—and set a trashcan nearby. But the kid never came to. Eighteen-years-old.

  Damn it. I hesitated, pinching my lips together. She really wasn’t my responsibility. The angel on my other shoulder counseled, but she’s someone who needs help…and we all have to look out for each other. I rolled my eyes and went in the room, flipping the extra latch into place. I crossed the room and stood near her. Taking my guide from the frat boy handbook I stretched for the pillow on the other side of the bed to prop her up. But as I did, she spoke.

  “Kyle?”

  Her eyes seemed incredibly clear for a pass-out drunk, although they were red. Her gaze roamed over my face then she lifted her head from the pillow while at the same time grabbing me behind the neck and pulling me into a kiss. And it wasn’t the drunk, sloppy kiss I would expect. They were skilled kisses my body reacted to, unbidden. I jerked away.

  “Nah-ah-ah. Not hap—”

  She found my lips again and landed an even more provocative kiss. “Do me, Kyle,” she said against my mouth and ran her palm along my crotch.

  Good God, woman.

  I pried her from my neck and she stretched closer.

  “Stop!” I put her arm on the comforter and she tried to grab me, but I snagged that wrist and trapped it with the other. “Keep your paws to yourself.” I let go, and she reached again, and I batted her away.

  “Ouch.”

  I shook a finger at her. “Serves you right. Now BEHAVE.” I moved away, keeping my eyes on her, and begrudgingly sat on the floor with my back to the other bed, watching her. If I laid down I’d fall asleep. She stared at me for a bit, having turned on her side and brought her hands under her cheek. Then she blinked slowly, with the intervals open growing shorter until she finally fell asleep.

  I sat and thought about Bob and what a jerk he was and how she would have no doubt joined him in his room, were I not there. He was probably upstairs at this very moment whacking off at the thought of it, the bastard. Then I leaned forward, drawing my legs in. I rubbed my bottom lip.

  That was quite a kiss…or kisses, really….

  I shook myself.

  This girl is a loon. And self-destructive. First she lifts without a spotter, then she gets so drunk she would have gone home with anybody. And as much of an asshole as Bob was, he would have never hurt her, but some others may have. Something was wrong with her. Pain and fear flash in her eyes a couple of times. I wondered what her story was.

  Then I thought of home and Sam, and the kids, and even that goofy pooch. I tugged the comforter from the bed I was next to and wrapped it around my shoulders and continued my vigil.

  Chapter 10

  Elise

  I showed at the pool simply to prove something. I wanted to prove something to Hunter. I didn’t care if he had a girlfriend (although I really did care…quite a bit.) To prove something to Amanda Cartwright and her minions. They could not beat me down. And to prove something to myself. I was strong enough for the above.

  Then Hunter was waiting for me. And he said he liked my smile. I turned to mush. I mean it. If this guy was gonna break my heart, it was already too late to stop it. Then he took my hand.

  We walked out of the shade of the entrance and veered to the right. Af
ter a few steps, he squeezed my hand and let it go. We would be walking right around the pool area. Did he not want someone to see us together? I casually scanned the deck.

  “So, Elise…uhh…how’d you get that sweet MINI Cooper?”

  That was from out of left field, but I liked it. Maybe he wouldn’t mind that I had a tendency to do that, too.

  “Uhh. My dad got it for me. It was used. He was feeling guilty for taking my brothers to the Super Bowl and not even asking me if I wanted to go.”

  “So he bought you a car?”

  “He was very guilty. My mom might have played it up a bit.” He seemed confused. “Told him how sad I was he looked me over so I could score a nice ride.”

  “I see.” He seemed to chew on that for a bit.

  We crossed a small bridge on the road, more of a hump the water ran under, and directed our steps toward the opposite side of the pond. Hunter squinted in the sun, but we were about to move into the shade of the trees around the water. “Were you?”

  “Was I what?”

  “Sad your dad didn’t take you.”

  I thought about that. “Yes and no.”

  He turned to the right. “Is it okay if we…walk here, in the grass?”

  “Sure.” But we’ll have to watch out for goose poop.

  “What do you mean by that? The yes and no?”

  He faced me, and he really listened to what I had to say, which was pretty refreshing. No one, male or female, listened to me. Even my mom sometimes listened with half an ear, but she did have a lot on her mind. “Well…I’ve kind of gotten used to the way he treats me. He’s actually almost forgotten me when leaving somewhere many times before. If my brothers hadn’t reminded him, he would have. But…even though I try not to let it hurt, and I’m pretty successful most of the time—” I turned to him. I didn’t want him to think my dad was a jerk, even though he was. “I mean, sometimes he treats me great. Let’s me buy anything I want. Calls me ‘Daddy’s little girl.’ But those times seem forced, like my mom had a talk with him about doing better with me, or something.” I usually didn’t talk about stuff like that. If it’s one thing I learned from Bill Neaman, it was that you only let people see what you want them to see. My mom was very private, too.

  We strolled on in silence for several seconds. I picked a pinecone from a nearby tree.

  “So, it did hurt you when he took your brothers to the Super Bowl?”

  Yeah. I studied my pinecone then shrugged the shoulder nearest him. “Maybe a tiny bit.” Truth was, it bothered me a lot when the three of them were together in pictures on Facebook, looking all snug and happy. I imagined what it must be like to be there with them. ’Cause even if my brothers were a pair of goofballs, I loved them and loved being with them.

  He stopped walking. “Do you want to sit?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’d remove my coat and spread it on the ground for you, but I don’t have a coat, and if I took something else off we might get arrested.” He gave me a lopsided smile.

  “No need. I can take care of myself.” My mom always told me to make sure men knew you didn’t need them. And to make sure, in a relationship, the other person liked you more than you liked them.

  That’ll be a problem.

  I turned to study him. His knees were bent, his hands on the patchy grass behind us, to support him as he leaned back. He filled out his T-shirt very nicely. He twisted his head and caught me eyeballing him, but didn’t seem to notice.

  He flashed a wicked smile. “We proved you couldn’t take care of yourself the other day.”

  “What? When you threw me in the pool?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I let you do that.” I tossed my hair.

  He smirked. “Sure you did.”

  We were sitting so close the heat radiating from him was a tangible force. He was warming me as much as the sun was. The pool noise—distant whistles and the indecipherable sound of the kids, punctuated every once in a while by a clear cry which was perfectly understandable—it all formed a kind of comforting backdrop for our conversation.

  He reclined more. “Tell me about your mom.”

  “Well…” I had to smile whenever I talked about my mom. She cracked me up. “When we talked about Facebook earlier, it reminded me my mom likes to call it ‘The Book of Faces.’ It’s a little game for her, pretending she’s ignorant whenever it comes to anything about the computer.” My smile broadened. “She keeps saying computers are a fad.”

  He grinned. “Yeah.” He stared in the direction of the pool. “The Book of Faces. I like that.” He brushed a fly off his leg. “Did we— Did we talk about Facebook? Because I don’t remember that.”

  I thought about it. “Maybe we didn’t. I was just thinking about Facebook.”

  “What were you thinking about Facebook?”

  I peered across the pond, watching a group of ducks sticking their heads under the surface, their butts in the air. I loved it when they did that. It looked so weird. “Oh, I don’t know.”

  He reclined farther, lying back on his elbows and wiggling his feet. “I think you do know.”

  I turned to consider him. What was he? My psychologist or something. I didn’t like someone being able to read me so good. But at the same time, I did. I flipped onto my stomach and planted my elbows on the ground so I could observe him while I talked. “I was thinking about seeing my dad in pictures with my brothers on Facebook. At the Super Bowl.” I picked at the grass. The pang hit me again. He would never let me be part of that. “They seemed so happy,” I said softly.

  “I’ll tell you something, they were missing out. You’re fun.”

  I blinked in surprise. “I am?”

  He stretched to play with a piece of my hair. “And pretty.”

  My gaze strayed to his lips. I wanted him to kiss me, and he was leaning in…. And I flipped over and sat. My heart was beating so hard and so fast it had the rhythm of baseball cards in bicycle spokes.

  He sat slowly. “Elise, if I did something—”

  “You’ve never told me about yourself.”

  His mouth hung open for a second. “What?”

  I clutched my knees into my chest and rocked. “I’ve told you all about me, but you’ve never told me about yourself.”

  He scratched in the dirt with his toes. “Are you sure you want to talk about—”

  “Like, do you have any siblings?”

  He took a breath. “Yes. My sister Jordan is two years older than me.”

  My gaze landed on his lips again. They were nice lips. Full lips…. I pushed off the ground and stood, brushing the dirt from my hands. “Let’s talk and walk.”

  His brow furrowed. “Okay.”

  I offered to help him up, and his face cleared as I assisted in pulling him to his feet. Looking across the pond, with ducks gliding so smoothly through the glassy water, the clouds reflected on its surface, an overwhelming sense of peace enveloped me. “I like it here,” I murmured.

  “It’s nice,” he agreed.

  I eyed him. “You’re not like other guys, ya know?”

  “So I’ve been told. I think it’s from being raised by two strong women. My mom and my sister.”

  “Hmm…”

  We turned and started our trek around the pond. It was either a very large pond, or a very small lake. And there was more than what lay in front of us. A second basin opened up beyond the expansive pool parking lot. Luckily, we wouldn’t have to walk the whole route because an arched bridge would take us back to the other side where the two ponds met.

  “May I hold your hand again? I don’t want to be too forward if you are uncomfortable with that.”

  I smirked. “Because of Scottie’s suggestion?”

  He rubbed his chin. “Yeees, and no.” He stopped walking. “I might as well tell you up front, Elise. I’m pretty awkward with the whole dating thing.”

  “You’re joking.”

  He took my hand and we moved along our invisible path. Our p
ath. Just him and me.

  “No. I’m not. The way you described yourself to me, how you were unpopular with other kids our age?”

  I snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

  “Well, two years ago I was in the same boat.”

  I stared at him.

  “Really, I was. I was the nerdy guy who liked to read. Two years ago you wouldn’t have recognized me. My mom bought me contacts, and I learned about the school weight room. I spent a lot of time in it.”

  “It shows.”

  He grinned. “Thanks. So with each step of the progression, I gained more self-confidence. Maybe I didn’t need to be scrawny nerd boy my whole life. I even tried out and made the baseball team at my old school.”

  “Good for you.”

  “So, you see, I understand what it’s like to be the outcast. The one everyone makes fun of.”

  We were quiet for a moment. “Were you really that bad?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I’ll show you some pictures.”

  It made sense to me. He was a trifle…clumsy, and awkward. Whether it was because of his personality, or because he didn’t have a lot of social interaction, who knew. And his sensitivity and intelligence came from being influenced by the women in his life. But what about his dad?

  “Aren’t you going to ask me about my dad?”

  It was like he was reading my mind. “I didn’t want to pry.”

  “That’s okay. I don’t mind talking about it. Watch out,” he pointed out a rather large pile of goose poop.

  “Ooh, thanks.”

  He stared at the horizon. “I never knew my dad. My mom doesn’t even know who my father is.” He looked at me. “Apparently she was a wild child when she was growing up, but she’s the opposite now.” He straightened his spine and took on a stern tone. “Very strait-laced.” He scanned the ground in front of us. “But Jordan…Jordan is headed down the same path as my mom did, and it scares the shit out of my mom.” He kicked a branch out of our path. “Worries me, too.”

  “Why’d you guys move to Lincoln?”

  “My mom worked for a small but growing law business in Omaha, as a secretary. The firm wanted to open a place here, and they gave my mom the office manager position. She was so thrilled, and I’m proud of her. I even took her out to dinner with my first lifeguarding paycheck to celebrate.”