Confessions of a Reformed Tom Cat
Page 6
Beyond the first row of cedars lining the driveway stood a giant pinecone about as tall as me. I hopped out again and walked over to it, stepping between ferns to get to the open lawn. I knocked on one of the scales. It answered with the sound of flesh on steel.
The sculpture was welded metal.
I walked around in a wide circle, letting my hand trail along the surfaces.
Whoever made this had talent.
And shouldn’t be working in a boatyard.
Idaho didn’t make sense to me.
I glanced at the dark house, tempted to crawl into her warm bed and ask all kinds of questions, which would break the pact.
Instead, I returned to the running truck, and headed home.
*LET’S GO TO a party.*
I got Ashley’s text on Saturday afternoon.
*What sort of party?*
I felt like I was seeing too much of Ashley. Hanging out on weekends felt like dating.
I didn’t date.
Dating led to relationships.
*It’s down on Scatchet Head. Come. You’ll have fun. Promise.*
I ran through a list of people I knew who lived down there and who also might know Ashley. Coming up empty, I agreed.
*Give me the address and I’ll meet you there.*
“You never told me what kind of party this is,” I said as Ashley wound her arms around my neck to kiss me.
“Does it matter? Me, you, booze, food, other people. What more do you need to know?”
I’d parked at Bailey’s Corner to meet her per her instructions. Seemed a bit complicated to go to a party. She explained away the oddness by saying the house was at the end of a private road and there wasn’t a lot of parking. Made sense, so I didn’t question it further. Another car pulled into the parking lot. A couple I didn’t recognize got out of their beige Camry and walked toward us. Ashley greeted them warmly and introduced me. Short and round Molly let her hand linger in mine after we shook hands. I flicked my gaze to her husband, Kyle, who looked like a bored accountant, to see if he noticed. I doubt he did because he was busy checking out Ashley’s chest.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, drawing his attention away from her cleavage.
“Hey. This your first party at the Wrigley’s?”
I stuffed my hand in my back pocket to break the contact with Molly. “As far as I know. I don’t think I’ve met them.”
“Oh, you’re in for a fun night!” Molly’s hand stroked my forearm. Wow, she was a touchy one.
I stepped slightly behind Ashley. “Well, let’s get this evening started then. Who’s driving?”
Ashley drove us down the hill to the beach. Parked cars filled the narrow driveway.
“Big party,” I said.
Molly chuckled from the backseat. “I love it when there’s a big turnout. So much more fun than standing around eating guacamole and chips.”
While Ashley parked, I made a note to avoid Molly for the rest of the night by standing near the chips and dip.
We followed a lit path to the door of a nondescript rancher. Kyle knocked three times on the door and paused, then slowly knocked twice more.
I studied Ashley from the corner of my eye. Her fingers gripped mine, but she didn’t look at me.
A man a few years older than me, or maybe early forties if he was in really good shape, swung open the door. “Welcome, I’m Stephen. Leave your shoes by the door here. Coats on the rack.”
Inside the lights were low and some random country music played. The paneled walls were typical island, but that’s where any familiarity ended. The living room had four sofas and more beanbag chairs around a central rug. Wait, was that a rug or a wrestling mat? A shiny silver pole stood alone in what should have been the dining room if it had furniture. I’d never been in a total party house like this before.
Ashley tugged my hand and we moved further into the house, passing through a galley kitchen, its counters laden with trays of snacks, including chips and dip. I grabbed one and Ashley swatted my hand. “Those are for later.”
I chomped on the chip, swallowed, and smiled at her. “I ate the evidence. No one will ever know.”
We followed our host into a family room with more couches and wood paneling. A few other groups of people stood around with red plastic cups like the world’s most low-key fraternity party. A woman with a swarm of blonde hair circling her head and a black jumpsuit barely containing her tits waved at us and rushed over.
“Oh, Ashley, I’m so happy you’re here.” Blondie leaned around me and kissed her full on the mouth.
Okay, that was weird.
Stephen smiled, watching them. “Brandi, you know everyone, I think, except Tom.”
“Hi, I’m Brandi. With an ‘i.’” She had a little bit of lipstick smudged on both her cheeks and near her collarbone.
“Hi.” I gave her a wave, and, having learned my lesson after Molly, stuffed my hands in my back pockets.
“Not much of a talker, is he?” Brandi asked Ashley. “Not that it matters in this crowd!” She laughed at her own personal inside joke. Kyle and Molly joined her. Ashley chuckled and color pinked her cheeks in embarrassment.
Still chuckling, Stephen put his hand on Brandi’s ass. “It’s still early. Grab some food inside; there are coolers on the deck with beverages. Remember, our two drink maximum, so pace yourselves.” He winked at Molly. “If you drove, keys go in the fishbowl by the door.”
“Is this a key party?” Molly asked with fake shock.
“This isn’t the seventies, honey.” Kyle draped his arm around her shoulders, letting his hand rest on her boob.
The whole crowd was very touchy-feely. “I’m going to grab a beer. Ashley, you want something?”
“Sure.” She grabbed hold of my belt loop and trailed close behind me as we wove our way through the crowd of mostly couples toward the sliding glass doors.
Despite the cold breeze, I felt more relaxed being outside and away from our hosts and Ashley’s “friends.”
I popped the top off of an Alaskan Amber. “How do you know Brandi with an ‘i’ and Stephen?”
“She’s a regular customer at the Clinton location.”
“And Molly and Kyle?”
“Same thing. He commutes over to Shoreline and stops by every morning.” She shrugged. “You get to know a person seeing them consistently.”
Ashley owned two coffee huts with her brother Jonah on the island and one over in Mukilteo. They had built a mini-empire from scratch on the wallets of mocha loving housewives, tourists, and commuters. Her staff often featured perky girls in tight T-shirts. I guess she was the Hooters of coffee.
“This party is not at all what I expected,” she said, sipping on her bottle.
“It’s a little weird.” We leaned against the deck railing and stood in silence, watching the other party-goers through the window.
Brandi and Molly were dancing with Kyle. Stephen sat on one of the couches between two other women, his arms stretched behind them both.
“They seem friendly, if not a little handsy.”
She spit out her beer and choked, coughing while I patted her back.
“Swallowed wrong,” she sputtered.
A skinny, dark-haired young guy with tattoos on his neck slid the door open and poked his head out. “Mind if I join you?”
I shrugged. “Sure.”
“I’m Casey.” He introduced himself. He sat on the railing next to Ashley, really close to her.
In fact, his thigh bumped her arm. I scratched my neck and watched him. He caught my expression and shifted a few inches away, creating a sliver of space between them.
I listened while they chatted about the coffee business. A few more people joined us outside. Two women came over and started chatting to me. One of them was the beer garden girl from Halloween. The other one graduated high school a year behind me. Damn small island was small.
I finished off a second beer while we all talked. The girls said they were cold and invit
ed me inside with them. I noticed Ashley and Casey were deep in conversation, and his hand rested on the railing behind her ass. Her hand sat on his forearm.
How cozy. I felt a cold trickle of possessiveness run through my body. He had some nerve. Clearly we were together when he got here. Of course, she wasn’t my girlfriend, but unless this was a swin—
Holy shit.
I peered in the window where Kyle had his arm around the waist of another woman who was most definitely not Molly, because she was kissing Brandi in the middle of makeshift dance floor. Was there a ferret cage in the corner?
No way.
I coughed loudly, drawing Ashley’s attention. When she met my eyes, I jerked my head to the window behind me. Her eyes widened and she hopped away from Casey so fast he lost his balance, nearly falling over the deck on to the sand below.
“Can I have a word with you?”
“Um . . . yeah . . . of course . . . sure.” Her words tumbled out of her mouth in an awkward stream of nonsense.
I pulled her down the stairs to the wet sand in our socks. She had some explaining to do. With my arms crossed, I waited.
“Tom . . .”
I waited.
“I really didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t this. I thought we’d come and it would be a bunch of hot young people, maybe lots of sexual tension, and it would be exciting.”
I remained quiet, feeling a cross between fuming and duped. She’d brought me to the island version of Eyes Wide Shut without the masks, money, mansion, or hot naked women. Although I suspected if we hung around long enough, some nudity might be inevitable.
“And I didn’t tell you it was a special kind of party, because I figured you’d say no out of some misplaced sense of propriety.” Her voice became squeakier. “Which is ridiculous because you’re all about sex. You don’t do relationships, or hell, dating. What’s wrong with coming to a party where that’s everyone’s focus? This should be cool with you. It’s just sex.”
My eyes widened and I lowered my hands. I swung my arms as I exhaled a cloud of warm breath. With each inhale and exhale, I stared out over the water. Lights from Everett and Seattle sparkled across the wide black expanse.
I rubbed both hands over my beard. “Yeah. I’ve got to go.”
“That’s it? Really? I’m giving you the kind of fun most guys dream about.”
“What’s that?”
“Freedom. Space to have fun, explore.”
“By watching you have sex with some guy you just met?”
“Whoa, who said I’m having sex with anyone tonight besides you?”
“Isn’t that the whole point? I get to watch you with another guy.”
“Or woman,” she offered.
I paused to think about it. Was that one of my fantasies? According to the porn industry, yes. What was I complaining about? I thought about Brandi and Molly. They weren’t hideous, but neither turned my crank. Some fantasies might be better left in the imagination.
“A head’s up would have been nice is all I’m saying.”
She coiled around me like the snake in Eden. “So we can stay?”
I burst out laughing. “No way.”
“What if I don’t want to leave?” She pouted.
“Then stay. Get your rocks off, but I’m out of here.”
She followed me up the stairs. Casey had disappeared. He’d probably found another offer.
I rubbed the sand from my socks on the mat and opened the door.
“Tom, I can’t believe you turned out to be such a prude,” she shouted after me, her feet stomping on the wood floor. Her voice and antics drew the attention of a couple making out in the hallway.
“Have fun, Ashley. Don’t call me.” Searching for my shoes, I made the mistake of glancing in the front room. A couple was going at it on the mat while another couple watched from the couches. The man, who had his hand down his pants, made eye contact with me. I recognized him as Stephen, but didn’t know the woman.
“Thanks for the chips and dip!” I waved and shut the front door behind me. I didn’t bother putting on my boots until I was on the main road.
It was at least three miles up hill to my truck. About halfway there, I burst out laughing and had to double-over to catch my breath. What the actual hell just happened? Did I dodge a bullet back there? Or walk away from the opportunity of a lifetime? The night promised sex and lots of it, and I was hoofing it to my truck alone. I’d seen orgies in porn, but never been to one in real life. Of course, I’d thought about it, but the reality tonight seemed a lot less sexy.
I’d heard of swingers before, but on the island? Geez. John would never believe me if I told him. Oh shit, no way was I telling him about tonight. He’d never let me live it down. That kind of material couldn’t be passed up. Ever. I’d never stop busting his balls if it happened to him.
Maybe it had. Growing up here, we knew pretty much everyone. Now, I’d never be able to go to Red Apple or Payless Foods for groceries and not wonder who was and wasn’t a swinger. I shook my head. What if you ran into someone you knew? What if you ran into a family member at one of those things? Did whoever got there first get to stay? Did you draw straws? Or both leave and never speak of it again?
What if I ran into Hailey at the party?
Would I have stayed? Made out with her in front of Ashley? After last weekend, I didn’t think she was kinky, but maybe she was. Her nipple twist had been accurate and painful. Maybe she liked to boss around men and make them serve her. Hadn’t that pretty much been what happened? Shit. My mind spun all sorts of crazy scenarios as I trudged up the hill.
Headlights brightened the road behind me and I stepped further toward the edge of the shoulder. I had another mile plus of walking and decided to stick out my thumb. Single guy walking along the road a night, it would be a long shot to get a ride, but I had nothing to lose. My dignity lay on the beach behind me.
A familiar fender came into view.
What were the odds?
A yellow dog head stuck out of the passenger window, looking happy to see me.
“Hey, Donnely, what are you doing in the woods?” John asked.
“Listen, you give me a ride to Bailey’s Corner to get my truck, and don’t ask any questions or I walk there. Deal?”
John laughed and told Babe to scoot over. I climbed into the cab and held up my hand. “Seriously, don’t ask.”
“Husband catch you and you had to climb out a window?” He continued laughing, clearly amusing himself. At my scowl, his face grew serious. “Oh, no, please tell me it wasn’t some girl’s father. That’s all sorts of wrong.”
“One time when we were in high school. Once. I’ve gone out a window once. I was seventeen.”
“And landed ass naked in a bush of stinging nettles.” He slapped my shoulder. “Best idea ever. I swear, if I have a daughter, I’m planting those all around her window.”
I joined him laughing about stupid teenage me. Easier than the grown man me being a fool. At least it hadn’t been Hailey picking me up. At least I had a small shred of my ego left.
When he dropped me off, I thanked him, and he said, “For what?” before driving away.
With friends like him, who needed swingers?
FIRST THING MONDAY at work, I stopped in the break room for a cup of coffee. Our dry spell ended overnight with sideways rain and high winds. Tree branches had been dropping all over the island and power outages were likely if the storm ended up being as bad as the doomsday weathermen forecasted. At least this week my work was inside the hull of the tugboat, a small blessing.
Pouring coffee into my mug, my ears perked at the sound of soft cursing and the muffled thump of folders landing on the carpet in the hall a few feet away.
Idaho stood there staring at me. I smiled and she dropped to her knees to pick up the papers around her feet.
“Morning,” I said with a smile, liking the vision of her on her knees.
“Hi,” she mumbled, not making eye cont
act. That I didn’t like.
We hadn’t discussed how to deal with working at the yard together. I hadn’t given it much thought at the time, but we probably should’ve discussed not making it a big deal. She came to me and I gave her what she wanted. In my eyes, that made us even-steven.
“Hey.” I squatted down to help her.
“It’s fine. Don’t help.” She snatched the papers from my hand.
“Hey.” I tried again.
This time she allowed her gaze to land on my face. I waited while she slowly made her way up from my mouth to my eyes. “We’re okay, right?”
If she was having regrets, I needed to know, so I could make it right.
Her slow exhale brushed across my face. She blinked a few times and then straightened her spine in resolve. “We’re fine.”
“Good.” Standing, I reached my hand down to help her up.
“I got it.” She rose and stepped away. A minute passed before she spoke again. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“You know.”
“My pleasure.” And it had been. Frozen images of her above and beneath me from the other night flashed through my mind. I smiled at the memory and skimmed my index finger over my lips. “Anytime.”
Her mouth fell open before she clamped it shut. “It was a one-time thing.”
“Never say never.” I handed her the pen she’d dropped. “You know where to find me.”
She shook her head and walked down the hall. I let my eyes land on her ass. No jacket today. Not one to deny myself, I dropped my gaze to her long legs and thanked whoever invented the idea of tight jeans.
Someone cleared his throat beside me. Al from the main office stood there. Clearly, I’d been busted.
“Tom, do we need to go over the fraternization policy?” he asked.
“No, not an issue.”
“Good to hear. The last thing this company needs is another sexual harassment accusation.”
I nodded. I had a couple cousins who thought the last name Donnely meant they were above the law around here. Sadly, to save the family name and pride, Pops had bailed them out more than once. He had a three strikes rule: first time, you were probably a dumb-ass; second time, you were stupid; third time, better learn from your mistakes. There were probably twenty first and countless second cousins, and only two had ever made it to the third strike: Bob had served time; and Clark served as a state representative down in Olympia.