Coup De Grâce

by Lani Lynn Vale

  “Here,” I said, offering the soiled napkins to him.

  He gave me a ‘yeah right’ look and took the bag off his steering column, offering it to me. “There.”

  I smiled and shoved the napkins into the bag before handing it back to him.

  He took it reluctantly and replaced it before starting the truck up once more and backing out of the makeshift driveway.

  “We’re going to be late,” I told him.

  He tossed me a look. “We’re not going to be late. You can’t be late to somethin’ like this.”

  Instead of answering, I stayed silent and watched the trees pass by, my nausea starting to return now that the horniness wasn’t there to overwhelm the nausea.

  “You can be late to something like this if your sister’s been sitting in the driveway for the last hour waiting on us to get there,” I retorted.

  He rolled his eyes, not that I could tell that he’d done so.

  I, at least, heard the derision in his tone.

  “My sister can wait as long as it takes, seeing as I told her not to buy the house in the first place because it was in a flood zone. Then I told her not to wait on getting a driveway because if she did, the whole thing would flood and she’d tear up her yard. Then when she didn’t get the driveway, I told her to get a four wheel drive. Do you know what she got? A two wheel drive Jeep. Who the fuck gets a two wheel drive Jeep?”

  I could tell that he really wanted to know, and I didn’t have an answer for him.

  The answer was: nobody.

  What was the point of a Jeep if it didn’t have four wheel drive?

  Not that I’d side with him.

  Women needed to side with each other, otherwise men would take over the world.

  Or, at least, Michael would get a fat head thinking he was always right.

  “She lives out in the boonies, too, which means it’s a drive from wherever I’m at,” he told me as he turned down a dirt road. “And it’s a fixer upper, so I’m there every other weekend, it seems like.”

  He wasn’t there every other weekend, which I told him.

  “You’re not there every other weekend. Because you’ve been with me for a month now, and I’ve never met her, and you spend your weekends with me,” I told him dryly.

  He winked at me, and I felt shivers race down my spine.

  But then we hit a pot hole causing the truck to dip down low.

  And the nausea welled back up my throat.

  “Pull over!” I pleaded, hand going to my mouth.

  He read the state I was in quickly with a quick scan of his eyes, and pulled over. Not that it was much.

  But it was enough.

  He stopped the truck quickly, and I had enough time to throw my door open before I lost the lunch that I’d barely eaten.

  My head felt like it was a million times too big as I threw up everything I had in there, then started dry heaving.

  I guess Michael was worried about me falling out of the truck because his hand went to the waist band of my skirt to hold on while I violently puked.

  Head pounding, I lifted up.

  Only to come face to face with a cow.

  He was on his side of the fence, but still, the surprise of it all had me squeaking in surprise.

  “You okay?” Michael asked.

  I turned to him, then back to the cow.

  “Yeah, I’m okay now. I’ve been nauseous since breakfast,” I told him.

  “Stomach bug?” He asked worriedly.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. We have so many sick people come through the hospital every day that it’s possible. But I haven’t a clue. I just hope it goes the hell away.”

  Reluctantly, he let my skirt go, and turned back to face the front of the truck.

  “Maybe we should take you home,” he said. “It wouldn’t be good to pass whatever you have to Reggie.”

  I waved my hand. “I’ll stay in the car. You’re all the way out here, and I’ll be fine as long as you don’t mind.”

  He shook his head. “No, I don’t mind. Just don’t spread your cooties to me.”

  I snorted, and pulled the door closed, tossing a glance at the cow who looked a little bit sad to see me go.

  I leaned my head back against the seat, and closed my eyes as Michael started moving the truck back down the road. At a much slower pace this time.

  “I won’t spread my cooties if I can help it,” I laughed.

  His hand captured mine, and he held it on top of the middle console for another two miles.

  Then he pulled into a…yard.

  There wasn’t any driveway.

  None at all.

  And with all the rain we’d been getting over the past two months, her yard resembled more of a lake rather than a yard.

  “She drives a jacked up two wheel drive Jeep…” I said unsurprised. “Why would she lift a two wheel drive?”

  Michael burst out laughing.

  “Exactly!”

  He tried carefully, but the moment he pulled into her yard, his tires sank and started to spin.

  “Gonna have to put it in already,” he muttered, doing something on the floorboard that I couldn’t see.

  I couldn’t see it because the woman that was coming out of the little brown house was beautiful.

  I could clearly tell she was Michael’s sister.

  She had the same beautiful brown hair, and even from this distance I could see that her eyes were the same translucent blue.

  “She looks just like you,” I observed as he pulled a u-ey in her yard and started to back up.

  Mud splattered and slammed against the windows, causing me to laugh at the situation.

  I’d been mudding before.

  Hell, I was raised in East Texas.

  If you hadn’t been mudding, that was because you hadn’t lived here long.

  But I hadn’t done it in so long that I’d forgotten the way you slipped and slid.

  Mud had zero traction.

  It helped that Michael’s truck was so big. And his tires were so mean looking.

  He rolled the window down and placed his hand on the window’s ledge while he lined up to his target.

  Because he had it backed up to Hannah’s Jeep in no time, and was bailing out before I could ask him if he needed me to do anything.

  I was studying the horses across the street when Michael’s voice yelled for me.

  “Nikki!”

  I stuck my head out the window and turned around until I could see him.

  “Yeah?” I asked curiously.

  Hannah and Michael were standing close, both of them looking at me.

  Michael’s was teasing, and Hannah’s look was calculating.

  She was sizing me up.

  I waved to him, and she cracked a smile.

  “He told me to stay in the truck so I didn’t spread my pukey cooties to you!” I informed her.

  Hannah smiled.

  “Appreciate that. If I catch it, it’ll mean Reggie will catch it!” She thanked me.

  “Are y’all done?” Michael snapped impatiently.

  I blinked, but wisely kept my mouth shut.

  But I did nod my head.

  “Good,” he muttered. “Now get into the driver’s seat and back it up a little more.”

  I saluted him, and he narrowed his eyes at me.

  Scrambling over the seat, I scooted the seat up to where I could reach the pedals easily, and backed the truck up.

  Promptly saturating them both with mud.

  I slapped my hand over my mouth.

  “I’m sorry!” I yelled.

  Michael didn’t laugh, but Hannah did.

  Great guffaws that had her doubled over in hilarity.

  “Do you want to pull yourself out?” He growled to his sister.

  She shook her head and stood up, but she still had streaks running down her face where the tears from her laughing washed th
e mud away.

  “Jeez,” she said, walking to her Jeep’s door. “You’re no fun.”

  “That’s right, I’m not.”

  I raised my brow at him, but he couldn’t see me because he was busy attaching the chain he’d produced from his toolbox to both vehicles.

  I contemplated Michael’s sudden change in demeanor.

  He’d done that quite a few times in the month I’d really been spending time with him.

  Three instances where all of a sudden his mood would just snap from one extreme to the other.

  Going from really happy, to pissed off at the slightest thing in a matter of seconds.

  Quite frankly, it was fascinating to witness.

  Not that I’d tell him that I found his disease fascinating.

  I’d learned to roll with it, though.

  I had sisters.

  Enough said.

  Also, it was easier not to call attention to it and act like nothing was wrong.

  That was the fastest way to get him back on track, and I knew he was grateful that I didn’t heckle him about it.

  “Alright, Hannah. I want you to give it some gas when you start to feel the tug on the chain, okay?” He confirmed.

  She nodded, and he started to the driver’s side door, so I moved before he could ask me to.

  I was in my seat when he opened the door, and I had to look the other way so he wouldn’t see the smile on my face.

  “I know you’re laughing at me,” he growled.

  “I’m not laughing,” I lied.

  He snorted and threw it into drive.

  The tightening of the chain sounded, and both of them started giving it gas.

  Then, all of a sudden, Michael stopped.

  “She’s going forward,” he said, covering his face with his hands. “Please tell me she’s not. Because I’ll be embarrassed to call her my sister.”

  I hopped out of the truck, and my white tennis shoes immediately sank into the mud.

  It came all the way up to my lower calves, but I got out to circumvent the argument I knew was about to ensue.

  “Hannah!” I whispered loudly.

  She turned and let off the gas.

  “Backwards!” I whispered again.

  Her eyes widened, and then she covered her mouth with her hand. “Shit!”

  With pink cheeks, she pushed it up into reverse and started to go backwards.

  Michael then started to go forward, and immediately pulled her out of the dirt with little to no effort at all.

  He drug her all the way to the road where he pulled over and parked just to the side of the road and got out.

  “You need a driveway,” he growled.

  Hannah fell out of her Jeep because she was parked on the incline that lead to a ditch, causing her to trip and nearly fall on her face.

  Her baby brother, though, saved her before she could even make it to her knees.

  “You’ll need to keep parking here where it’s packed ground, otherwise you’ll keep getting stuck,” he told her, setting her on her feet.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and turned to look at the dog that was peeking out the door behind me.

  “Hey big boy,” I said to him.

  He was old.

  He was a black lab that had a white mask covering the entirety of his face.

  He moved slow as he made his way to me.

  I went down to my haunches, holding out my hand for him.

  He nudged my hand, and I started to pet his head.

  “You’re a sweet baby,” I told him, scratching behind his ears.

  “That’s Mogley,” Hannah said from behind me. “He’s a sucker for some lovin’s.”

  I smiled. “He’s sweet. I used to have a black lab like him named Nike. My dad had to put him to sleep when he was fifteen because he couldn’t walk anymore. Too many Frisbee tosses, I guess.”

  “Mogley’s a whiz with a tennis ball. He used to be my ex’s, but Joshua didn’t want to take care of him anymore when he started to lose his desire to duck hunt,” she said sadly.

  What a dick.

  How could you just get rid of a dog who was too old to do what you asked of him?

  Certainly not me!

  I’d kill for a puppy, but my apartment’s pet deposit was outrageous, and you couldn’t have a dog over twenty five pounds.

  And, although I loved small dogs, I couldn’t handle the high pitch barking that came with them.

  I much preferred a dog that would protect me. Play with me. And genuinely have fun with me.

  I’d have that again someday.

  “He’s a sweetheart,” I told her.

  Michael came up to the porch and offered Mogley a scratch on the head before he started stripping off his boots, followed quickly by his pants.

  “Got anything I can change into?” He asked.

  I blinked when he stripped right down to his boxer briefs.

  “What would you do if I didn’t?” She asked laughingly.

  He glared at her.

  “Drive home in my underwear,” he said simply.

  Of course he would.

  Although, men could get away with that.

  They could get away with almost anything.

  Whereas, if a woman had tried to drive home in nothing but a bra and panties, she’d get into trouble for it.

  “I have some of Joshua’s old clothes in the spare bedroom. They won’t fit you well, but I’m pretty sure there’s a pair of old shorts and a t-shirt or something,” she told him.

  He grunted and walked into the house, completely ignoring me.

  “Hmmm,” I said once he left.

  “He’s in one of those moods,” she explained softly.

  I nodded. “He’s fine.”

  She looked at me carefully.

  “You know,” she said simply.

  I blinked. “Know what?” I asked innocently.

  “That he’s bi-polar.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, he told me.”

  Her eyes widened in understanding.

  “He loves you,” she whispered. “And you love him.”

  I blinked.

  “Well…” I did. I just didn’t want his sister to know.

  I was waiting.

  I sensed that that was somehow crucial to our budding relationship.

  If I spooked him, he would run.

  Which was why I was denying, with everything I had, what I sorely suspected wasn’t food poisoning or a stomach bug.

  I was pregnant.

  Very pregnant.

  Because since I’d hooked back up with Michael, I’d not had my period.

  I was so regular with my period that I could set a timer to it.

  I could tell you within the hour of when I was going to start, because it started at the same time every month.

  Which meant that the first time we were together we’d conceived a child.

  A child that he didn’t want.

  A child that I had to convince him that he could have. Who could be healthy. Who could be a good person, just like he was. Whether he wanted to admit he was a good man or not.

  “You love him,” she confirmed, nodding her head. “Good. He’s a good man.”

  See? I knew he was.

  “I know,” I told her. “He’s a really good man.”

  “He’s a sap for a little kid, though. As you can see, he’s collecting them once again,” she said with a snicker. “A year or so ago, he saved a little boy from a car crash, and stayed with him for four hours while he was cut out of a car. Now Jackson is Michael’s biggest fan. They still hang out with each other every once in a while. Hell, he’s Reggie’s best friend. He’s all she talks about sometimes.”

  That knowledge that he loved kids gave me hope.

  I’d already known that, of course, but it was good to have it reiterated.

  “How old is Reggie?” I asked, gathering up Michael’
s clothes and boots and putting them into a trash bag that Hannah had magically produced out of a planter/secret hiding spot between two chairs on her porch.

  “She’s two and a half, going on eighteen,” Hannah laughed. “She’s Michael’s little mini-me. Imitates everything Michael does, and it drives my ex-husband bonkers. I love it.”

  I laughed with her.

  Which was how Michael found us.

  He wasn’t in a bad mood any longer.

  No, he was in a great mood.

  Which he proved when he said, “I like it when my two favorite girls get along, smiling and laughing.”

  I gave him a thumbs up. “Well, we were laughing at you. Does that make you feel any different?”

  He shook his head in the negative.

  “No, it doesn’t. As long as you’re getting along,” he announced.

  I raised a brow at him, studying his attire.

  He was in a black pair of jogging shorts that were seriously too tight on him, mostly because I could make out the outline of his cock through the shorts. And although it was a very nice outline, it wasn’t something I wanted the world to be seeing.

  His shirt wasn’t much better, but at least it was something.

  I was happy to see his tattoos in the daylight, though.

  Normally, I only got to see him when we were at his house or mine. And it was only in the privacy of our bedroom.

  Michael wasn’t like normal men.

  He didn’t go without a shirt. He always had one on. Always.

  Unless he was going to bed or getting out of the shower.

  “Why wouldn’t we get along?” I asked curiously.

  Hannah was the one to answer.

  “Joslin and I didn’t get along. At all. She was selfish and stuck up. She also hated the fact that I called her on her shit when I picked up ER rotations. Something she really, really didn’t like,” she answered.

  “Ahh,” I said. “That makes sense. She hates me because I do that, too.”

  Hannah grinned. “Looks like we have a ton of stuff in common. And guess what! We can gang up on her at family dinners and Christmases! Because my big brother is being stupid and marrying the cheating hoe!”

  Michael’s head tilted to the side. “How’d you know she cheated?”

  Hannah looked at him as if he were stupid. “Michael, baby brother dear, I’m not stupid. I work in the same hospital she does. And her stink doesn’t just stay on the ground floor. It permeates to all the floors. Trust me.”