Filthy F*ckers: The Complete Series Box Set

by Hildreth, Scott

  Charlee edged closer. “Do you do hair?”

  “I do.”

  “Cool.”

  “Marc tells me you’re a reader. What are you reading?”

  Charlee lifted her chin slightly. A look of uncertainty followed. “Do you read?”

  “I do. Probably not anything you’d read, though.”

  “Like what?”

  “Romance novels.”

  Charlee flipped her hair away from her face and slid a little closer. “I don’t read romance novels. Not today’s romance novels, anyway. Romance doesn’t really exist anymore and here’s why. Boys are dumb. And, dumb people do inherently dumb things. Girls are smart, but we’re intrinsic dreamers. Therefore, when boys lie to us and tell us what we’ve come to expect from reading romance novels, we believe them. We trust them because we want to believe in the concept of love. I’m no longer receptive to their comments and pre-prepared pickup lines. In the end, they’ll break your heart. Bradley Prescott broke mine. I’ll never recover. At least not totally. The way it stands now, I’ll be single forever.”

  “I’m sorry your heart was broken.” Taryn scooted to the inside edge of the booth. “Want to join us?”

  Charlee’s eyes shot toward the kitchen and then back to Taryn. “Just until the food comes.”

  As she climbed in the booth, her mother approached.

  “Good morning,” Jacky said with a broad smile. “What can I get you two to drink?”

  “Coffee,” I said. “And the usual.”

  She looked at Taryn. “Would you like to see a menu?”

  “No thank you. I’d like the huevos rancheros. And coffee. Cream and sugar, please.”

  Jacky smiled. “The huevos rancheros are great, by the way. I’ve tried to get him to eat them, but getting him to make a change to his routine is impossible. Every day for the last two years, he gets the same thing.”

  “Jacky,” I said. “This is Taryn. Taryn, Jacky.”

  Jacky wiped her hand on her apron and offered it. “Nice to meet you.”

  Taryn shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, too.”

  “I’ll get this right in,” Jacky said. “It’ll be up in a few.”

  As she turned away, she glanced over her shoulder. “Leave them alone, Charlee. They didn’t come in here to see you.”

  “I invited her over,” I said.

  “Only until the food comes.”

  Taryn gestured under the table. “I like your shoes.”

  “I like yours. I saw them when you came in,” Charlee said. “I hate ‘em when they’re new, but I really like yours. Red’s a cool color for Chucks.”

  “We think alike.”

  Charlee made a fist and held it between them. Taryn pounded hers lightly against it, and Charlee did the explosion thing with her hand. I was worried they wouldn’t get along, but it sure looked like I was wrong.

  “Boys aren’t dumb,” Taryn said. “They just--”

  Charlee motioned toward me. “I don’t think Atticus is dumb. Everyone else is.”

  Taryn looked surprised. “Atticus?”

  Charlee nodded. “From To Kill a Mockingbird.”

  “Atticus Finch?”

  “Charlee’s eyes shot wide. “You know the book?”

  “One of my favorites.” Taryn looked at me. “She calls you Atticus?”

  “She has since she read the book.”

  She shifted her eyes to Charlee. “I can see why you call him that.”

  “Why?” Charlee said, challenging Taryn with her tone.

  Taryn took the challenge, and responded without thought. “Atticus is stern when he has to be, but he always takes time for a bedtime story. He teaches his children to do what’s right, regardless of the cost. He set a prime example for them by defending Tom Robinson. Atticus defined humility, and did it with southern grace. Marc is the same. Always doing what is right, regardless of the cost. And, he doesn’t want the recognition, either.”

  “You see him differently,” Charlee said. “I like what you said, but I don’t know him like you do. Here’s what I was thinking.”

  She wadded her hair into a quick bun and then twisted in her seat to face Taryn. As she cracked her knuckles and shook her head in preparation of the speech she was going to give, her bun came undone and her long curls fell into her face.

  “Let me show you something,” Taryn said.

  She removed a hair tie from her wrist, and asked Charlee to turn around. She then separated Charlee’s hair into four sections – each side, the top, and the back. Explaining everything as she went, she made a conventional ponytail with the back section, and then scrunched it into a curly wad, using the hair tie to hold it in place. Each section was taken, twisted until almost tight, and then wrapped around the back portion loosely. After tucking the ends into the hair tie, she teased it into an elegant bun.

  She pulled a mirror from her purse. “Here. Have a look.”

  Charlee looked in the mirror. Her eyes slowly widened. She turned to the left, and then the right. “This is awesome. Thank you.”

  “Maybe if Bradley Prescott sees you with your hair fixed like that, things will be different.”

  “Oh!” Charlee exclaimed. Her eyes shot to me. “I almost forgot. Guess what?”

  “What?”

  “Catelyn Mayberry. She goes to my school.”

  I recognized the name from the names of the nine girls who were kidnapped. I widened my eyes in feigned surprise. “Oh. It’s a small world, huh?”

  “It is.”

  “Who is she?” Taryn asked.

  “She was one of the girls who was kidnapped last summer,” Charlee said. “Some guys that work with Marc saved her, and she’s back in school now. We’re friends. That’s all.”

  Taryn smiled, shifted her eyes to me, and held my gaze. “That’s awesome.”

  “Back to Atticus,” Charlee said. “Atticus gave words of wisdom on how to live life, but he didn’t do it in by saying, here’s words of wisdom on how to live life. Everything he did and said could be looked at as advisory. In his being, he was an exemplary example of mankind.”

  She looked at me. “That’s why I call him Atticus.”

  I doubt until that moment that I had ever blushed. Hearing Charlee’s examination of me sure made me do so, though.

  “Quite a compliment,” Taryn said.

  “He’s quite a guy,” Charlee said.

  “He sure is.”

  Balancing two plates on her arm, and carrying two cups of coffee in her free hand, Jacky stepped to the edge of the table.

  Charlee let out an audible sigh and then stood. “Let them eat, Charlee.”

  Jacky set the plates on the table, and then slid the cups of coffee beside them. “Sorry about the coffee, I made a new pot. I doubted you’d get a drink in with the little motormouth sitting here.”

  She glanced at Charlee and grinned. “Wow. I like your hair.”

  “She did it.”

  Jacky looked at Taryn. “You’ll have to show me how.”

  “I know how, Mom. She doesn’t need to show you.”

  Jacky rolled her eyes and then looked the table over. “Creamer and sugar are in the caddy. Enjoy.”

  Taryn situated her plate, and then reached for her silverware. “This looks great. Thanks for the recommendation.”

  I unrolled my napkin and pulled out the silverware. “She said they were good. I hope they are.”

  I took a sip of coffee, and then began my meal. Before I finished my first bite, Taryn let out an exaggerated sigh. “Oh. My. God.”

  I looked up. “What?”

  “Try this.”

  I pierced the other half of my egg, folded it over, and poked it in my mouth. After swallowing it, I wiped the corners of my mouth with my napkin. “Okay.”

  “Let me get you the perfect bite.”

  After assembling a bite with a piece of tortilla, part of a fried egg, some salsa, sauce, and beans, she carefully lifted her fork. “Come here, before I drop this
.”

  I opened my mouth and leaned forward.

  She shoved the fork into my mouth. “See what you think.”

  To describe the mixture of flavors as magnificent would have been a grotesque understatement. I savored the flavors as I chewed, and eventually swallowed.

  “Well?”

  I lifted my chin and gazed toward the back of the diner. “Jacky?”

  She turned around. “Something wrong?”

  “Another plate of huevos rancheros, please.”

  “Never say never,” she said with a huge smile. “It’ll be up in a few.”

  I slid my plate to the side and reached for the newspaper. When I was halfway through reading the second front page article, my breakfast arrived. I folded the paper and set it beside me on the seat.

  Jacky set the plate on the edge of the table. “It just took meeting the right woman to open your eyes.”

  My gaze shifted to Taryn. Appreciating her beauty came easily. Every moment that I spent with her brought something new to love. Jacky was right. For the first time in my life, my eyes were wide open.

  Through them I saw life with a newfound clarity.

  I savored every bite of my new eggs, pleased that I’d taken the risk to try them.

  As Charlee read, we finished our coffee. I tucked my newspaper under my arm, and stood. After tossing $60 onto the table, I turned toward Charlee.

  “You never said what you were reading, Scout.”

  She looked up. “Green Eggs and Ham, by Dr, Seuss.”

  I wrinkled my nose and stared. It made no sense. “Dr. Seuss? What?”

  She turned and waved to Taryn, and then looked at me. She must have sensed my confusion.

  “It’ll come to you soon enough. Have a nice day, Atticus.”

  Epilogue

  Sundays weren’t only our day, they were also an anniversary of some sort. Always. As our relationship started on a Sunday, each sabbath that passed brought a reason for me to celebrate. Sometimes it was nothing more than a party in my mind, but each one of them were recognized as being what they were.

  A gift.

  In the spot where we had our first kiss, we sat side by side and gazed out at the ocean. I recalled what started our journey to the kiss, and with that recollection came a wave of emotion. Sharing with Marc the events that brought me to California took courage and trust.

  That trust opened the door for our relationship to evolve. I’m sure not all relationships are built on a foundation of trust, but I was glad that ours was.

  He checked his watch, then shifted his gaze to the cloudy horizon. It was almost dark, and the winter ocean was jewel-blue.

  “This is the exact reason I bought this place. I feel like all of that.” He waved his hands toward the sea. “I feel like it’s ours. Our back yard.”

  “I feel the same way,” I said. “Watching it is hypnotic. It takes away all of life’s bad and makes it good.”

  “The way the waves crawl onto the sand? That rhythmic pulse is the earth’s heartbeat. It’s reassurance that there will always be a tomorrow.” He nestled against me. “A tomorrow with you.”

  I loved hearing him say such things. Reassurance of our future together was nice. I’d reached a point that I felt I didn’t need it, but it was heartwarming nonetheless. On this day, of all days, I wanted more. I didn’t need it.

  I hoped for it, though.

  It was our six-month anniversary. I hoped something would be different about the day. A card. A cake. Recognition. As the days led up to it, I’d come to expect it. The day was now almost over, and he hadn’t even mentioned it.

  I wondered if he even knew.

  I gazed blankly at the lazy sea as the waves crept ashore, wondering all the while if I was being too feminine.

  He checked his watch and then let out a slow breath. “Will you do something for me?”

  “Sure.”

  “Go to the safe, and get that box. Then bring it out here.”

  “What box?”

  “The box that was delivered that day when I had to work. You put it by the front door.”

  I’d forgotten about the box. Curious about its contents, I jumped from my seat. “Okay.”

  I walked to the back of the closet and looked it over. He’d given me the combination, describing it as a safety measure. I saw it as further proof of his trust. I’d never needed it, but it was nice to know it. Nearly as tall as me, and four feet wide, the steel safe was massive. I wondered what all he kept in it.

  I pressed in the date when he graduated SEAL training, and then #. I pulled the heavy door open and peered inside. Several military-type rifles, handguns, a few steel boxes with locks on them, a small plastic file cabinet, and the box.

  I reached for the box, chuckled at its weight, and pushed the door closed. After pressing *, I carried the box to the deck.

  I set it at his feet. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you.” He checked his watch, and then patted the cushion beside him. “Have a seat.”

  I sat down and looked at the box. Marc was odd, and I knew it. Bringing the mystery box to the deck on a Sunday night was a whole new kind of weird.

  The lights on the eave illuminated automatically, a reminder that it was not only night time, but time for us to eat.

  He checked his watch.

  “What are we doing?” I asked. “I’m ready to go in.”

  He glanced at me, and then shifted his eyes back to the dark horizon. “Waiting.”

  “For?”

  “Two minutes to pass.”

  I pressed my foot against the box, and pushed it forward a few inches. I wanted to kick it off the side of the deck and then down to the ocean. I knew there wasn’t a cake in it, or a card, and that was really all I wanted. A note. I would accept a hand-written note.

  A special kiss. That would make me happy. He could kiss me and then tell me it was our anniversary kiss.

  Something.

  He patted his hand against my knee. “Open the box, Tee.”

  “Open it?”

  He glanced at his watch. “Hurry!”

  I squatted beside it and reached for the strip of tape that secured the top. “Why hurry?”

  He widened his eyes. Not in a playful way, but in a very worried way. “If you don’t get it open and remove the contents in the next 80 seconds, something bad is going to happen.”

  “Are you serious?”

  He stood. Slowly, he inched away from the box. “I’m dead serious.”

  My mind raced. I tore at the box, peeling away the tape that had been holding its contents secure for the last six months. I pulled the flaps open and was surprised to see sheets of the little plastic balloons used for packing delicate objects.

  I looked up.

  He glanced at his watch. “Sixty-two seconds.”

  I pulled away a layer of the packing, and then another. Frantically, I tossed them aside, wondering just what in the fuck he’d gotten me involved it.

  Then, I saw it.

  A small black velvet box.

  My heart raced. My hands shook.

  I looked at him.

  On his knees between me and the horizon, he looked at his watch and then peered into the box. “You’ve only got 31 seconds. Open it.”

  With a shaking hand, I reached for the box. I bit into my quivering lip and lifted the hinged lid.

  Oh. My God.

  He tapped my knee.

  I looked up.

  He glanced at his watch, and then met my gaze. “Taryn Fisher. I love you more than words can describe. Before God and my ocean, with the earth’s pulse providing us a reassurance of tomorrow, will you marry me?”

  I nodded eagerly.

  “Will you?”

  “Yes,” I murmured.

  He glanced at his watch and then let out a sigh.

  He reached for my shaking hand, lifted the ring from the box, and slipped it onto my finger.

  I looked at the ring and then at him. He kissed me.


  My mind reeled at what had just happened. It wasn’t something that he’d decided on a whim. That box had been in the safe for almost six months. I couldn’t remember the exact date when it arrived, but it was while we were in our 30-day no-sex stint, I was sure of it.

  At least I thought I was.

  I glanced at the ring. White gold, with an elegant array of diamonds along each side, the pattern of stones circled the center stone, a massive round diamond. It was elegant, yet made a bold statement.

  I was spoken for.

  I looked at him. “The box. It’s been here for…”

  “I ordered it on day eleven. From a jeweler in Germany. I had it shipped to a jeweler in San Diego, and they shipped it here.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about. “Day eleven?”

  He nodded. “After our first kiss.”

  My heart rose into my throat. “You knew you wanted to marry me after our first kiss?”

  “I knew if I didn’t marry you, I’d never marry. After that kiss, you were all that mattered. Yes.”

  I placed my hand against the deck to steady myself. “I love you.”

  He smiled. “I love you, too.”

  “What was with the countdown?” I asked. “Thirty seconds or else. Hurry, hurry, hurry?”

  “You probably don’t realize it, but it’s our six-month anniversary. I wanted to propose to you on this day, but at the exact time and place where we had that first kiss.”

  I love you so fucking much.

  I looked at him in disbelief. “You know what time we kissed?”

  “Yeah. And what time you gave me the first blowjob. And, what time you ate the oyster. Pretty much everything.” He shrugged. “I know, I’m weird.”

  He wasn’t weird, he was my fiancé.

  I stood, opened my arms, and cocked my head to the side. “Kiss me.”

  We embraced in a kiss. Swaying back and forth on the balls of my feet, positioned between his ocean and the spot where we had our first kiss, I fell a little deeper in love with Marc Watson. As our lips parted, it came to me.

  I needed to make a call.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said excitedly.

  “Huh?”

  “I’ve got to make a call. I’ll be right back.”

  I slid the door open, ran into the bedroom, and scrolled through my contacts. After finding her name, I pressed the button.