“I know you are. That’s why I come over so often. I see you more now than when I lived there.”
And that’s true. There were many days when I’d leave before he got up and he’d be gone by the time I got home, but now I go by almost every day to take him lunch wherever he’s cutting grass or pulling weeds for his landscaping business. I make the effort because I worry about him. And, evidently, it’s a valid worry.
“It’s just not the same. The house is so big. And empty.”
“I’ll come by more at night, Dad. I promise. But right now, let’s get you to bed. You need your rest. It won’t do for you to be tired tomorrow.”
When he gets like this, a soft, motherly approach works wonders.
“No, I don’t want to be tired,” he says brokenly.
“I know. What do you say we get out of here?”
My father nods his rusty orange head and slides off the barstool, grabbing onto the brass bar rail for balance until he gets his equilibrium. I wait patiently, just like I always do. Dad moves at his own pace, just like he always does. It only makes him mad if I try to rush him. I learned that the hard way.
After six excruciating minutes of watching him take a step, sway, catch himself, and then occasionally stop to slap someone on the back and ask them what they’re drinking, we finally make it out the door to my waiting car. Once he’s safely inside, I run around to the driver’s side and slide in behind the wheel. He’s snoring before I even start the engine.
SIX: Jet
The other guys in the band tease me about being such a lucky bastard. I’ve never really thought of myself as lucky, but this . . . this makes me wonder if maybe they’re right. Tonight, I can see why they’d say that.
I’ve never been in this little market before, so I’m forced to walk the main aisle and look down each row in search of the beer cooler. It’s not in the very front or the very back, which is unusual, I think. I probably would’ve ended up leaving, frustrated, had I not seen the beautiful Violet, Sex Addict standing in the coffee aisle. Needless to say, at this point, I’d like to shake the hand of the dumbass who arranged the goods this way. If he (or she) hadn’t, I’d never have seen her.
After about a heartbeat and a half of thought, I hang a right and saunter down the aisle, stopping beside her like I’m looking for coffee, too. She ignores me at first, but finally, nearly a full minute later, she gives in and glances over.
From the corner of my eye, I see her do a double take and then turn to stare straight ahead. A few seconds later, she casually takes a step away, down the aisle. Suppressing a grin, I take an equally casual step to follow her. I see her raise her hand to tap a finger against her chin, like she’s debating, and then she takes another step away. Warming to the little cat and mouse thing we’ve got going on, I take another step toward her.
I see her glance quickly in my direction again, so I turn to her and say, “Ma’am, could you please stop crowding me?”
Her muted gray eyes go round for one indignant second before I see a playful light turn them to soft puffs of pale smoke. Seeing the change makes me feel strangely gratified. I get the feeling she doesn’t play or tease often.
“Of course! Pardon me. I do apologize for being such an aisle hog,” she teases, a grin flirting with her lips as she slides farther away.
I shuffle down the aisle after her.
“Don’t you just hate it when people get in your space when you’re trying to pick out coffee?” I complain jokingly. “God, it’s so distracting. Especially when they smell really nice.”
Soft color blooms in her cheeks, making my groin ache. I can all but picture her face flushed like that, right in the middle of an orgasm. Her lush lips parted, her brow slightly puckered, her smooth skin shiny with sweat.
Aw hell!
I shift from one foot to the other, trying to alleviate some of the strain behind my zipper. I can’t remember the last time a woman even came close to giving me an unexpected hard-on in public. I’m up for some risky public foolin’ around as much as the next guy, but this kind of thing could get embarrassing. And that doesn’t happen to me often. Part of that might be because I don’t embarrass easily.
I struggle to get my libido under control. That’s another thing that doesn’t happen to me often. I mean, women excite me—most all women, every size and shape—but I’m a little desensitized because I usually get what I want. Females don’t deny me. They never have. But this girl, I know she would. She would shoot me down if I even attempted to engage her. And, like any stubborn or forbidden fruit, that makes her even more irresistible. And that really excites me!
I give her an easy smile, but I see that she’s taking on that apprehensiveness again, probably getting ready to make her excuses to get away. Naturally, my ego steps in and I preempt her, continuing before she has a chance to cut me off. “Well, enjoy your shopping.”
I turn to walk away, but stop when I hear her confused voice. “Aren’t you going to get some coffee?”
“Nah. I just saw you standing there and thought I’d come by and be friendly.” I pause, holding her gaze for several seconds. “I mean, if you can’t be friendly with the people who know your deepest, darkest secrets then who can you be friendly with?”
She nods slowly. “I guess I never thought of it that way.”
I give her a lopsided grin. “Well then I’ve done my good deed for the day. Next time, it’ll be your turn. Give and take. Part of the process.”
“The process?” she says, her brows drawing together.
“You know, the process of overcoming. Helping each other along the way, making it through. Being a shoulder or a friendly face, whatever is needed.”
“Oh, right right. I’m sorry. It’s just . . . it’s been a long night.”
“Well, hang in there. And if you need to talk, I’m a great listener.”
“Thanks, but I really need to be getting home.” Violet reaches for a container of coffee and starts to back away. “I appreciate the offer, though. It’s . . . it’s very kind of you.”
I shrug. “Not necessary. Just doin’ my part.”
She nods and smiles, finally turning to walk away. I try not to watch her ass as she goes.
I fail miserably.
SEVEN: Violet
I roll over, turning away from the sun that’s streaming through the window. Every muscle aches as I shift and turn, this way and that, trying to resituate. Dad’s voice startles me and I jump, flipping over and causing a painful twinge to reverberate along my spine.