by Sandra Ross
It was then Joy noticed the tow rope and two sets of skies stowed aft in the boot. "Gotta have us back by 4, okay? Figured give us a little leeway."
Vincent turned out to be very skilled in handling the skiff. They skied, ate, drank, talked, and laughed. They teased each other and relaxed with each other. They fell out of casual interest and for Joy, into lust.
They experienced not just physical lust but emotional lust, the physical attraction of friendship, and trusting lust. The need to trust is as powerful to the lucky few who get to experience it as the power of physical lust. For the moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the entire world, the only two in existence as far as either was concerned while out on the water.
As they parted after the perfect day, so Joy could get ready and get to work, Vincent asked "May I see you when you're done tonight?"
Joy contemplated the man before her. A man she had only known a day or two but in many ways felt as if she knew so much better than Brian. A man she liked so much more than Brian and respected and trusted. Could she think or say any of those things about the man with whom she was currently sharing her life?
All of these thoughts flooded her consciousness and emotions at that moment. A tear once again fell from her eye as she leaned in to Vincent and whispered, "I don't know if I'm going home to make sure everything is all right, or to say good-bye. I'm not sure what will happen between us, Vince, but I do know that I feel strongly enough about you. And that I can't be with him any longer. It wouldn't be fair."
With that, she closed the small gap between them her whispering had created and began to kiss him. She broke the kiss and fled down the street towards her apartment, now suddenly in tears.
Vincent stood there, in pleasant disbelief, smiling from ear to ear, and repeating over and over "Oh my God, Oh my God---!"
Vincent always knew he would know when it happened; he had known this since the first eye contact in the restaurant a mere two days ago, one day, really, only yesterday.
"I'll be able to tell our grandkids it was love at first all right" he thought as he went to return the boat grinning from ear to ear.
Joy had collected herself by the time she showered and slipped into her uniform. Khaki short shorts, a tie-dyed tee with the Schooner's logo and white sneakers. A plan was already forming in her mind and she was rehearsing conversations she would have to have with Brian. She was running late and had to skip part of her "getting ready for work" routine. It didn't really matter; Joy had more important things on her mind.
When she arrived at work the first person she saw was Stormy, who was also just coming in. Stormy started gushing, almost immediately "Look at you girl, all vibrant! You look sensational, y'must have had a great day. Girl, no makeup at all and you glow! I'm jealous! Takes me hours to look this good, and still am no competition to you!"
"Had a late lunch, running late," Joy offered half apologetically. "Hey, you got any scent? I ran out and didn't put anything on."
"Sure" replied Stormy, "I always wear the same thing" she said handing Joy a tiny generic brown jar, "Patchouli oil."
Bells were all ready firing and whistles blaring in Joy's mind as she brought the little vial of old fashion sweetness to her nose. Recognizing the scent immediately started sending her signs that this was going to be a fight or flight reaction.
The situation, simply based on identification of Stormy's scent, initiated the most primitive and basic responses. She was pissed and ready to fight to the death.
"You fucking bitch!" she seethed, in rage. "And pretending to be my friend? And pretending to---" her voice trailed off.
And then Joy experienced a true epiphany. She stood up and smiled, and then started to laugh. She laughed so hard tears ran down her cheeks. By now the interaction had become obvious to others at the bar. AnaMaria, the owner, could recognize a cat fight brewing from a mile away. She had owned and operated the Schooner Wharf for many years.
"Everything all right, ladies?" demanded AnaMaria in her slightly accented English. And she waited.
"Hell no!" exclaimed Joy. "There ain't shit right! This bitch has been pretending to be my friend and sleeping with my man."
AnaMaria had been aware of this developing situation and had wondered why it had taken this long for it to come out. Hell, she had had sex with Brian herself after the last Christmas party. The guy was a quite a horn dog.
"You know what? You two-faced bitch! You can have him," spat Joy and then started laughing a little manically.
"Yes, a perfect punishment for both of you lying, cheating, friggin' scumbags. Good luck with him, he's all yours." And Joy started to walk out of the restaurant.
"What about work?" demanded AnaMaria.
Joy suppressed the impulse to tell her where she could put "work" and instead said "I don't work with bitches like her," looking at Stormy.
"When she's gone, call me." And then she walked away, tears in her eyes.
But they weren't tears of pain or loss, but of freedom and the realization of why she had been so uneasy lately. She hated being lied to. She thought there could be no satisfaction in those that lied to her because she really was too gullible, too trusting, that it had been too easy. Joy tried to see the best in everyone; believed in everyone. And now this.
She suddenly stopped and pulled out her cell phone. "Might as well take care of this right now," she determinedly thought. She knew Brian couldn't get a signal out on the water, but a text message would pop up as soon as he was close enough to shore.
"Just talked to Stormy. I know everything. Get out. Never contact me again." And she pressed "send." Joy couldn't believe how good that felt. And she made a silent vow to herself that she wouldn't, under any circumstance, talk to that bastard again.
Joy walked freer now, freer than she had felt in months. And hopeful about the future, no matter what it held. It had to be better than what she had just resolved.
That thought brought another smile and her tears dissipated completely.
Stormy was at the doctor's office. She had seen Melissa, a nurse, and was waiting for results. That mess with Joy and Brain was still fresh. The last thing she needed was a yeast infection, that's what she had come in complaining about. She had tried the over the counter stuff but it didn't help. It was still very itchy and irritated.
Brian had moved in and may have contributed to the irritation; at the same time putting a major crimp in her lifestyle. He kind of invited himself in, she would never have asked, believe it. The traffic of human companions that normally flowed through Stormy's life and apartment was negatively affected by Brian's presence.
Stormy got anxious when Melissa came in all professional instead of her easy going, relaxed way. When the clinician said "You have trichomonas," Stormy was in the midst of a little panic attack and only caught part of what she had said.
"No, I don't trick, what?" asked Stormy with confusion.
""No, trichomonas is what you have. It's a sexually transmitted infection. The little buggers have a flagella, a tail, and they swim around causing that foamy discharge and the itching." Melissa stopped short here. She had found that too much information overloaded these girls and she gave time for it to sink in before continuing.
"Can it be cured?" asked Stormy.
"Sure," replied Melissa, "But you have to have all your partners checked and treated; otherwise you can just get it right back again."
"Do I have to tell? I mean is this reportable? Will someone call up everyone I name?"
""No," the health care professional continued, "Trich is not reportable in Florida, but it is what you should do, I mean tell anyone you were in close contact with, because it can be an asymptomatic infection. And you want the person that gave it to you to know."
After some thought Stormy asked "Wouldn't a guy know if he had it? I mean it's more obvious in guys, no?"
Melissa explained, "The infection is in the same tube that carries urine. They don't have a big open space like we do
. Every time they urinate, the infection is washed out. Some guys notice it, most don't, but they can still give it back to you. Here's your prescription, it's a single big dose of Flagyl. It might upset your stomach, though, so make sure you've had something. Oh, and no alcohol for a couple of days. The drug is chemically related to Anabuse, a drug they used to give alcoholics to make them vomit if they drank. Alcohol with Flagyl will make you sick for sure."
She had definitely overloaded the young lady because Stormy's next question was "What about the yeast infection?"
"What yeast infection?" inquired Melissa. "You don't have a yeast infection, you have a trichomonas infection."
"Oh!," responded Stormy, "Can it be cured?"
Melissa had had enough. She left and sent the nurse in to try and explain it again and give the girl the prescriptions. She asked her nurse to bring up birth control if she could as well, she wasn't sure this one should procreate anytime soon.
"Hello Mama?" Vincent was calling home. "Yes Ma'am, I'm just fine. How are you and Daddy? Yes 'em, having a grand ol' time down 'ere. Yes 'em I did actually meet someone. Ah, yes Mam, it is a girl. A real nice one."
"What Mama? No Ma'am, I am not bringin home a knocked up tramp and expectin' you to raise my illegitimate spawn," he laughed.
"No actually I have not 'picked the pit' as you so delicately put that."
"What do you mean 'Why not, I just met the girl!'"
"Yes Mama, I do like girls. Let me talk to Daddy please?"
"Hello Daddy? Did Mama stop takin' her meds again? Lordy be!"
~ ~ ~ ~
The End
~ ~ ~ ~
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Wrong Number
Finally! Devon thought as she sat down on the couch in her new apartment.
Moving was never easy, but she had done it so many times now that it was becoming somewhat of a routine. However, this time it was different. She wasn't going to be moving again in the near future, if ever. It had taken a while to save the money she needed, but now she had her very own book shop. Even better, her spacious apartment was right over the shop, which meant that she had everything she needed conveniently within reach.
The first order of business had been to get her belongings moved into the apartment. Tomorrow, Devon would begin unpacking boxes and stocking the shelves of her shop with the help of Janina, the girl she had hired to help her. Together, she hoped that they would be able to get most of it all done within a couple of days. She really wanted to have her grand opening by the end of the week. Saturdays were usually excellent days to hold them because people would be looking for something to do on the weekends.
Devon had planned it all out beautifully. She did her research and found that this tiny coastal town on the east coast would be the perfect location for her book shop. Crystal Cove was small enough to be quaint, but large enough that tourists visiting nearby beach resorts would be able to find it easily enough. In fact, tourism was a large part of the town's income. When she found Crystal Cove, it boasted one casual dining restaurant, one fine dining restaurant, a Victorian bed and breakfast as well as a small but elegant inn. There were other necessary businesses in town but there was no book shop. That's where Devon came in.
She was going to be selling all sorts of books. There would be sections for romances, mysteries, occult, research materials, and even a children's section. That was going to be set up as a story time area. Her favorite part, though, was in the back of the shop. That's where Devon would be offering Tarot readings in a private and specially decorated area. No one had to know that her information came from sources that had nothing to do with the Tarot. She had been playing that off for years so that people didn't become afraid of her and her abilities.
Well, Devon thought. I can't just sit here daydreaming. I've got to get busy. Her electricity, water, and landline phone were all turned on and she could now stay here. The movers were due to arrive in a few hours to bring in her furniture. One thing at a time, she thought. She got up and started to do some cleaning and measuring so that she would know where she could put what.
This is going to be amazing, Devon thought. Dan would have loved it. No, I'm not going to think about him right now. It's only going to make me sad and I can't afford to get depressed right now. She went into her sunny kitchen and grabbed a diet soda from the refrigerator. Stocking the refrigerator had been something she had had the foresight to do. She would get her bed set up and at least be able to eat something in her own home tonight.
Just as she popped the top on the soda, her phone rang. Startled, she nearly spit out her swallow of diet coke. It had to be a wrong number, she thought as she went back into the living room to answer the phone. Picking up the phone, she said a cautious but cheery "Hello." At first, no one said anything.
"Hi, is anyone there?" Devon said.
"Hi," a deep male voice said. "I guess I must have the wrong number. I was trying to get in touch with Dan, but you're obviously not him."
"Dan?" A little unpleasant shock ran through Devon's body. "How do you know Dan?" "Hey, I'm really sorry for bothering you."
Before she could say anything else, her caller had hung up. She checked the caller ID and saw Unknown Number registered there. How odd, she thought. There wasn't enough time left to dwell on it, though, because at that moment, the movers pulled up. She was distracted for the next couple of hours with supervising the unloading of her furniture and boxes of things.
As she had promised herself, Devon got her bed set up and a path cleared so that she could eat a simple dinner in her very own kitchen. She nibbled on a salad and an avocado and bacon sandwich when she remembered the odd phone call from earlier. That really had to be a coincidence, she thought. It did make her miss Dan even more than ever. That feeling was especially bad at night. She tended to remember the way he used to make her body absolutely sing with pleasure. No man had ever been able to do that for her before or since. In fact, Devon was pretty much afraid that she would never meet another man that would do that to her.
Suddenly, she realized just how tired she was. She got up and changed into her pajama pants and spaghetti strap t-shirt. Washing her face and brushing her teeth completed the bedtime ritual for tonight. She slipped into her bed and turned out the lamp on her nightstand. Just as she was dozing off, her telephone started to ring. Fortunately, she had an extension sitting on her nightstand so all she had to do was reach over and pick it up.
"Hello," she said.
"Hi, is Dan there?" came the same male voice from earlier.
"It's you again," Devon said accusatorially. "Who is this and what do you want?" "Oops, I've got a wrong number again! So sorry!" And with that, the connection was broken.
Dammit! Now, Devon would never be able to get to sleep. What the hell was going on? Was someone trying to play some sort of joke on her? If so, it was a very cruel one and she didn't appreciate it. Dan was gone and he wasn't ever going to come back. She had only recently begun to accept that and now, some asshole was trying to rattle her cage. Of course, she could be crazy. It could just be that it was an honest mistake. Dan was a pretty common name, after all.
Common, however, was the last word that
would ever have described her Dan. Laying back onto her pillow, she could see his tousled black hair, high cheekbones, blue green eyes and sexy sideways smile. God, how she missed him! No one was ever going to take his place and she knew it. Her body still missed him every night. Even right now, when she was tired and hot, her body wanted Dan to be touching her, kissing her, and making love to her. Finally, she turned over on her side and went to sleep with a single tear sliding down her cheek.
"Wake up, sweetheart. Devon, open your eyes and look at me."
"Mmm but it's so wonderful to lay here like this with you, Dan. Do we really have to get up now?"
"Yes, darling. I would love nothing more than to hold you in my arms all day, but now isn't the time. There's something I must tell you and it's important that you pay attention."
"Of course, Dan, I'm listening. What is it?"
"You need to be careful. I can't protect you from where I am but you need to know that you're in danger."
"Danger? Who on earth wants to hurt me?"
"Shhh, don't speak. I'll tell you everything."
There was a ringing sound in Devon's ears suddenly. She was trying so hard to hold Dan's face in her mind but he was fading very quickly. The ringing became louder and more insistent. Devon's eyes flew open. She realized that the telephone was ringing on her nightstand. The sun was shining brightly and streaming through the partially opened curtains. Her bedside clock read 8:35 AM. Who the hell could be calling her at this hour? Reaching over, she lifted the phone and mumbled into it.
"Good morning, is Dan there, please?"
This again! She didn't even bother trying to carry on a conversation. Simply disconnecting the call would have to do. Devon didn't have the time, patience or energy for this. However, she was awake now and had a full day ahead of her. A shower sounded great to her at that moment so she got out of bed and padded into the bathroom.
