Cal knew that, he knew Haines, not well, but he knew him. Haines was a good man. Haines would shovel her snow. His wife was that big of a bitch, Haines would appreciate what he had in Vi and he’d let her know it.
Cal looked away and stared at his yard.
“In a minute, we’ll sit and drink beer. Now I’m tellin’ you, you’re all kinds of crazy, havin’ her next door, into you and not makin’ some effort to see where it’d lead. You’d be good for her but, better, she’d be good for you. You don’t wanna make that effort, your call, but you should stop f**kin’ with her head and let her get on with her life and find someone who’s willin’ to put in the effort.”
When Colt stopped speaking, Cal continued contemplating his yard.
After awhile, he asked, “You done?”
“Yeah,” Colt answered.
Cal didn’t do anything, not even nod. He just looked at his yard and took another pull of his beer.
Colt did the same.
* * * * *
I walked up to Mike’s townhouse, a new build but not that new. The trees had filled in a bit, it’d been around a few years; with a discerning eye I decided maybe five, maybe a couple more.
It was a development, a few detached or duplex ones but mostly rows of townhouses, party walls. In Mike’s row, Mike was in the middle. There was a narrow two car garage at the front, most of the house on top of the garage but there were rooms to the side.
I knocked on the door and didn’t wait long for Mike to answer.
“Hey honey,” he said, stepping aside, letting me in.
“Hi,” I replied, walking by him.
He closed the door, I looked up at him at the same time his arm hooked me at the waist, pulling me to his body and his head came down.
He obviously saved the stealth kisses for the first date or maybe special occasions. He didn’t give me a stealth kiss, patiently building the heat. His mouth opened over mine, his tongue slid inside and, essentially, he threw a kiss Molotov cocktail and I ignited.
When he lifted his head, I’d plastered myself to his front and again had both my hands in his hair.
“Wow,” I breathed.
He smiled, I gave him more of my weight, that’s how much I liked his smile, and he took it, his smile getting wider.
Then I thought, I was such a freaking slut.
“Sorry about Wednesday,” he said.
“I was a cop’s wife for fifteen years, I know the drill,” I told him.
“Your man stand you up a lot?” Mike asked.
I shook my head. “No, but he liked his job, he only ever wanted to be a cop and it was important to him. Since it was important to him and he didn’t make too much of a habit of it, I didn’t throw a hissy fit when he had to work. You learn to deal and with two kids it wasn’t like there wasn’t always something to do.”
His arm got tight but he didn’t reply. Then he let me go but took my purse, threw it on a chair in the little foyer and led me to the left into a kitchen.
It wasn’t the greatest kitchen in the world. Mine wasn’t huge but it was long and had a lot of counter space. His was newer, better appliances, was in a u-shape, small and had shit counter space but whoever designed it did the best they could do with the space they had. There were tons of cupboards; a five burner stove set in the counter; wall oven built into a unit, a microwave over it, cupboard over and under the appliances; a huge double door fridge that would hold enough food for a battalion; and there was a small table sitting in the bay window facing the front of the house.
“You eat meat?” he asked.
“Yep.”
“Good.” He went to a bottle of wine on the counter. “You drink red?”
I grinned at him. “Yep.”
He grinned back. “Good.”
He opened the wine while I asked, “How long you been here?”
“Bought it with my half of sellin’ the house. Audrey and I sold before the divorce, she didn’t want me to have it and she couldn’t afford it. Been here about nine months.”
“You like it?”
“Would prefer livin’ closer to work but need three bedrooms and this has that, couldn’t find anything in town that’d work for me and the kids.”
“Where does… um… Audrey live?”
“Apartment in town. Two bedrooms, kids hate it, they have to share. Jonas is fourteen, Clarisse twelve, they’re way too old to share…” he trailed off and handed me a glass of wine before he finished. “She went through her take from the house in about a month. She drives a brand new Merc but lives in a two bedroom dump, can you believe that shit?”
I shook my head, not able to believe that shit, thinking unhappy thoughts for him and his kids, taking a sip of my wine and noting instantly it wasn’t cheap.
“Sweetheart,” he called and I focused on him. “You should know I’m goin’ for full custody. Talked to my lawyer two weeks ago.”
He said this like a warning, like he’d expect me to think this was a bad thing.
“Good,” I told him.
His eyes moved over my face, something working in them, I didn’t know for certain what but it wasn’t like Joe studied me. I could see plain as day whatever he saw he thought was good.
I felt my stomach flutter.
When his eyes caught mine, he said, “We’ll eat in awhile. You wanna see the house?”
“Okay.”
He took my hand and led me out of the kitchen. “Got an HOA, they take care of the greenspace, doesn’t look like yours,” he said, drawing me down a hall off his foyer and looking back to me. “They should hire you though.”
It was a quiet compliment, not effusive but effective.
“Thanks,” I whispered, my belly fluttering again.
He showed me the living room at the back, it ran the length of the house and it was huge. There was a dining room table to one side set to seat four but you could see it took leaves to make it bigger, two more chairs at the wall. The rest was family furniture, big sectional couch, a couple of recliners, comfortable, sturdy but attractive. Stuff you lounged on with your kids and watched TV. There were pictures of the kids and Mike and other photos of other people, his parents (I could tell) and others, maybe his sisters, brothers, their families, friends and they were all over the place. There were shelves with books, DVDs, music, games and a large, flat screen TV, tables everywhere to put drinks on, a nice stereo. Two bay windows, one by the dining table, the other in the living room area, French doors in the middle with tall, slim windows at their sides that opened on a deck. I could see a huge, electric grill and decent furniture on the deck, not a bad-sized yard which a dog was lying in, golden retriever, staring at the doors, tongue lolling, knowing there was company, waiting to be let in so she could give her greeting.
Cal looked away and stared at his yard.
“In a minute, we’ll sit and drink beer. Now I’m tellin’ you, you’re all kinds of crazy, havin’ her next door, into you and not makin’ some effort to see where it’d lead. You’d be good for her but, better, she’d be good for you. You don’t wanna make that effort, your call, but you should stop f**kin’ with her head and let her get on with her life and find someone who’s willin’ to put in the effort.”
When Colt stopped speaking, Cal continued contemplating his yard.
After awhile, he asked, “You done?”
“Yeah,” Colt answered.
Cal didn’t do anything, not even nod. He just looked at his yard and took another pull of his beer.
Colt did the same.
* * * * *
I walked up to Mike’s townhouse, a new build but not that new. The trees had filled in a bit, it’d been around a few years; with a discerning eye I decided maybe five, maybe a couple more.
It was a development, a few detached or duplex ones but mostly rows of townhouses, party walls. In Mike’s row, Mike was in the middle. There was a narrow two car garage at the front, most of the house on top of the garage but there were rooms to the side.
I knocked on the door and didn’t wait long for Mike to answer.
“Hey honey,” he said, stepping aside, letting me in.
“Hi,” I replied, walking by him.
He closed the door, I looked up at him at the same time his arm hooked me at the waist, pulling me to his body and his head came down.
He obviously saved the stealth kisses for the first date or maybe special occasions. He didn’t give me a stealth kiss, patiently building the heat. His mouth opened over mine, his tongue slid inside and, essentially, he threw a kiss Molotov cocktail and I ignited.
When he lifted his head, I’d plastered myself to his front and again had both my hands in his hair.
“Wow,” I breathed.
He smiled, I gave him more of my weight, that’s how much I liked his smile, and he took it, his smile getting wider.
Then I thought, I was such a freaking slut.
“Sorry about Wednesday,” he said.
“I was a cop’s wife for fifteen years, I know the drill,” I told him.
“Your man stand you up a lot?” Mike asked.
I shook my head. “No, but he liked his job, he only ever wanted to be a cop and it was important to him. Since it was important to him and he didn’t make too much of a habit of it, I didn’t throw a hissy fit when he had to work. You learn to deal and with two kids it wasn’t like there wasn’t always something to do.”
His arm got tight but he didn’t reply. Then he let me go but took my purse, threw it on a chair in the little foyer and led me to the left into a kitchen.
It wasn’t the greatest kitchen in the world. Mine wasn’t huge but it was long and had a lot of counter space. His was newer, better appliances, was in a u-shape, small and had shit counter space but whoever designed it did the best they could do with the space they had. There were tons of cupboards; a five burner stove set in the counter; wall oven built into a unit, a microwave over it, cupboard over and under the appliances; a huge double door fridge that would hold enough food for a battalion; and there was a small table sitting in the bay window facing the front of the house.
“You eat meat?” he asked.
“Yep.”
“Good.” He went to a bottle of wine on the counter. “You drink red?”
I grinned at him. “Yep.”
He grinned back. “Good.”
He opened the wine while I asked, “How long you been here?”
“Bought it with my half of sellin’ the house. Audrey and I sold before the divorce, she didn’t want me to have it and she couldn’t afford it. Been here about nine months.”
“You like it?”
“Would prefer livin’ closer to work but need three bedrooms and this has that, couldn’t find anything in town that’d work for me and the kids.”
“Where does… um… Audrey live?”
“Apartment in town. Two bedrooms, kids hate it, they have to share. Jonas is fourteen, Clarisse twelve, they’re way too old to share…” he trailed off and handed me a glass of wine before he finished. “She went through her take from the house in about a month. She drives a brand new Merc but lives in a two bedroom dump, can you believe that shit?”
I shook my head, not able to believe that shit, thinking unhappy thoughts for him and his kids, taking a sip of my wine and noting instantly it wasn’t cheap.
“Sweetheart,” he called and I focused on him. “You should know I’m goin’ for full custody. Talked to my lawyer two weeks ago.”
He said this like a warning, like he’d expect me to think this was a bad thing.
“Good,” I told him.
His eyes moved over my face, something working in them, I didn’t know for certain what but it wasn’t like Joe studied me. I could see plain as day whatever he saw he thought was good.
I felt my stomach flutter.
When his eyes caught mine, he said, “We’ll eat in awhile. You wanna see the house?”
“Okay.”
He took my hand and led me out of the kitchen. “Got an HOA, they take care of the greenspace, doesn’t look like yours,” he said, drawing me down a hall off his foyer and looking back to me. “They should hire you though.”
It was a quiet compliment, not effusive but effective.
“Thanks,” I whispered, my belly fluttering again.
He showed me the living room at the back, it ran the length of the house and it was huge. There was a dining room table to one side set to seat four but you could see it took leaves to make it bigger, two more chairs at the wall. The rest was family furniture, big sectional couch, a couple of recliners, comfortable, sturdy but attractive. Stuff you lounged on with your kids and watched TV. There were pictures of the kids and Mike and other photos of other people, his parents (I could tell) and others, maybe his sisters, brothers, their families, friends and they were all over the place. There were shelves with books, DVDs, music, games and a large, flat screen TV, tables everywhere to put drinks on, a nice stereo. Two bay windows, one by the dining table, the other in the living room area, French doors in the middle with tall, slim windows at their sides that opened on a deck. I could see a huge, electric grill and decent furniture on the deck, not a bad-sized yard which a dog was lying in, golden retriever, staring at the doors, tongue lolling, knowing there was company, waiting to be let in so she could give her greeting.
