Boys Next Door (23 page)

‘Who knew lunch could rush by so fast? I have to go, Farrell.’

‘Ah, my real name,’ I said.

He ignored me and tugged the tail of the white dress shirt. ‘You might want to wash that before tomorrow.’

He was half out the door when I remembered. ‘Oh, Coop?’

He turned, smiled. ‘Yeah? Change your mind? Want me to ravish you?’

Yes … but no.

‘Why were you spying on Stephen?’

He looked like he might not tell me. Like he might tell me to mind my own beeswax. Instead he shrugged nonchalantly. ‘It’s been a while since he was with a guy. He went through a lot of bullshit in high school and beyond. It wasn’t just his family that didn’t want anything to do with their son the fag. Lots of folks around here fucked with him …’

I thought he was done so I started to get dressed. Then I realised he was still standing there.

I looked at him.

‘He asked me to watch because he was worried maybe it was someone setting him up. Playing a joke, or worse. You know?’

I blinked, feeling tears prick my eyes. I didn’t know. Not really.

‘He wanted to make sure he was safe is all,’ Coop muttered and then walked down the hall. He yelled, ‘Lock the door behind you!’ from the first floor and then I heard the door slam.

Cooper had been looking out for Stephen.

Jesus. They were a confusing bunch.

Music. This was impossible. I knew the other dancers were going to be dancing to traditional burlesque fare for their numbers, but I was neither burlesque nor traditional. I ripped open box after box of CDs in my house. Finally I found the one I wanted. All the hair metal bands and retro new wave shit that was so unheard of back in the day. Cheap Trick, The Kinks, The Cult, Dio, Ratt, Poison … I snorted.

‘You are a goobertronic,’ I told myself.

Brutus was going insane. He kept jumping up to sniff the suit and jumping down to sniff me.

‘Hey, I know that I’ve had two encounters with the nastiest little pig today, you don’t need to remind me of it by sniffing me like a tree.’

He stopped, wagged his tail and then ran in vigorous circles.

‘Okay, so it’s easy to please you, then,’ I laughed.

I pulled out a few CDs and found my player. I tucked Cheap Trick in the player and cranked up ‘I Want You to Want Me’
.

‘Nah.’ After a moment of trying to picture myself dancing provocatively to that, I gave it a pass. I swapped it out for The Kinks.

‘“You Really Got Me” isn’t going to work, either,’ I sighed.

Nine Inch Nails seemed plausible so I shoved ‘Pretty Hate Machine’ in and hit play.
I’m drunk … and right now I’m so …

I cut off Trent Reznor. ‘Nope,’ I sighed to the dog who seemed very confused as to all the random voices and beats emanating from my magical box.

I pushed in the final CD from the pile I was holding.

And there it came, the rush of music that made my skin prickle and pucker and my stomach dip. My nipples spiked and I laughed at my own silly but visceral reaction to Ian Astbury’s voice. My hips started to move on their own and I found a natural rhythm that would work for me.

I threw my head back and danced around singing with him. ‘The fire in your eyes … keeps me alive!’

The dog started barking and I was laughing and I dropped to the sofa and kicked my feet up while the song played.

‘Maybe this will be good for me. Maybe this will help me stop worrying about who I’m not and help me be who I am. Because let’s face it,’ I told my grinning, panting companion. ‘If I get “nekkid”, or at least down to my skivvies, in front of a bunch of town folks, I shouldn’t really fear anything after that.’

I resigned myself to a quiet evening. No dates. No banging any of the three little pigs. No watching or being watched, or masturbating or – just a quiet evening.

I had dropped onto my sofa, trying not to obsess over how the following day might play out, or the myriad of ways I could fuck it up, when the doorbell rang.

‘If it is Deke, send him home. Coop … home. Stephen, especially home, or you’ll never ever be able to fucking look at him and –’

It was Keith. The mailman. The freckled, normal, nice, kind and unaware mailman. Or maybe not unaware.

‘So none of the home team is over here sniffing around your door tonight?’

I shrugged. ‘Nope. Want a beer?’

‘Sure.’ He wandered in, kicked his boots off – which meant his mamma taught him well – and followed me into the kitchen.

‘Word is you’re going through with tomorrow,’ he laughed, taking the beer I offered and twisting the top off.

‘There is sure a lot of word here in this little town.’ I grabbed a beer for myself and we chinked bottles.

‘I’m having heated-up, store-bought, shameful-to-my-family-name beef stew. Want some?’

He eyed the pot and then grinned. ‘Sure. I’m up-to-date on my shots.’

I ladled the remaining soup into a bowl and sat him at a tiny second-hand kitchenette set I’d found tucked in the corner of the basement. I’d damn near broken my neck wrestling it upstairs, but now that it was in the kitchen it completed it.

‘What brings you here?’

‘Don’t know. I just saw your street and decided to stop in. I know you’re … dating. I was wondering if you saw any future for us dating.’

I looked down. Truth be told, I’d thought very little of Keith since our date. I didn’t dream about him and he didn’t seem to be under my skin, which, right or wrong, was my current gauge for attraction.

‘I’m just … I’m confused,’ I started. ‘I have a whole new life and I’m –’

He chuckled and ate a bite of soup. ‘Wow,’ Keith said. ‘This is utter shit.’

Soup almost came out my nose, but I managed to swallow instead of snort. The laughter stopped me in my tracks and I rested my forehead on the table laughing so hard, tears sprang to my eyes. ‘I know,’ I wheezed.

‘You are a really brave woman just for attempting to eat that. Let me take you out for pizza.’

‘I can’t. Like I was saying –’

‘Platonic,’ he interjected. ‘Not even kisses.’ Keith waggled an eyebrow at me playfully. ‘I wanted to talk to you about something.’

‘Then it’s a deal,’ I said. ‘Because this soup is abysmal.’

‘Agreed.’

‘Let me grab my bag.’ I pulled on some boots, a warm jacket, and found my purse. ‘Feed me, pronto,’ I laughed. ‘I’m starving.’

* * *

Dante’s Pizza was tucked behind a small cluster of cottages. Very much the neighbourhood pizzeria. When I walked in and the smell of warm dough, basil, tomatoes and rich Italian cheeses hit me, I was in love.

‘My God. It would have taken me months to find this place.’

We took a table by the window and I admired the small tables that were laminated with old newspapers. Two glass bottles graced the small tabletop. A shaker of Parmesan cheese and a shaker of red pepper flakes. ‘Awesome,’ I breathed.

Keith laughed. ‘I’m glad our little outing made you so happy.’

Our waitress’s name was Anne, and Keith told her we’d have two colas and a large standard.

‘Standard?’ I asked, watching her hurry off. The joint was jumping.

‘Large cheese pizza. Trust me, once you taste it you won’t need any fancy toppings.’

He was right. The first bite was heaven and the second was whatever lies beyond heaven.

‘So why the pity meal? Just couldn’t stand me sitting in my home, shunning all my neighbours and eating the human equivalent of dog food?’

He chuckled. The rest of his slice disappeared in three neat bites and Keith sat back, wiping his hands. ‘Yes and no. I figure if I had a shot with you, I’d have gotten it.’

I swallowed hard. ‘What?’

‘We live in a town the size of a postage stamp. Word travels. I know you’re dating all three of them. I know things have … advanced. If it was going to with me it would have, don’t you think?’

I stared at him. He smiled and then outright laughed when I said, ‘Is this a slut talk? Or are you going to offer me salvation or …’

He let his head drop back and groaned. ‘God, no. I am terrible at this shit. Please don’t think that’s what I meant.’

Keith dropped his head into his hands and ran them through his unruly hair. ‘I am an asshole.’

‘Well keep talking before I agree or disagree.’

He eyed me with those bright, kind eyes of his and said, ‘What I meant was, if there was a spark between us, I think we’d know. And I think we’re more suited to …’

He shrugged.

‘Being friends?’ I said.

Relief flooded my chest. This wasn’t a judgment or meanness. This was something else.

‘And I was wondering if it would bother you if I asked Joy out, and just declared us friends.’

‘Oh!’ I clapped, and several people turned to stare at me so I stifled my erratic joy. ‘Oh my God. Of course. Great! I agree.’

He laughed and snagged another slice of pizza off the pan. ‘I just didn’t want you to think I didn’t think you were … great. I guess, somehow, taking you on a date, opened me up to find my … um, cajones, and ask Joy out.’

‘Trust me,’ I said, ‘Joy could use a man like you. Me, I like to play it safe. Nothing that could get serious.’

Something flickered across his face and I said, ‘What?’

‘What, what?’

‘What was that look?’

‘What look?’

‘Come on, Keith! This isn’t an Abbott and Costello routine. What was that look?’

‘I just heard that all three of them were starting to feel pretty serious about you – hence the infighting.’

My first flickering thought was that Deke was feeling serious about me. And then a plunging rush of both excitement and terror. I ignored it.

‘Oh, I’ m sure that’s wrong.’

‘You keep telling yourself that, kid.’ He grinned and the light played over his smattering of freckles. He really was nice and kind and adorable. If I had any sense at all, I’d go for him. Instead, I floundered in a sticky web of men that I should never have taken up with in the first place.

‘I am stuffed,’ I said, sitting back. ‘And I am super thrilled that you want to ask Joy out. Donna said she could use a good man. And you, Keith, are a good, good man.’

He blushed. It was comical to see such a big man blush. ‘Thanks, Farrell. Now if you want, we can wrap this up to go, then you can let me swing into the small grocery in town and let you grab some food that is edible.’

‘You don’t have to –’

‘No worries. I’ll introduce you to Samuel Dean. He runs the place. He carries the best pickles.’

‘Pickles?’ I watched Keith raise his finger and signal for a box.

‘Yes. Pickles. Every little store’s owner has some little obsession. His is pickles. There are garlic pickles, hot pickles, habanera pickles. Sweet pickles. Pickled watermelon rind, tomatillos, okra and … I could go on.’

‘Guess I’ll be buying some pickles.’

‘If you want to be neighbourly,’ he chuckled and we went out into the dark and chill.

As he drove, I studied him. ‘I hope it’s okay to tell you that I think you’d be awesome for Joy.’

He smiled but didn’t look right at me. Mildly uncomfortable – just like a guy.

‘She’s sort of walled herself off from everyone emotionally. I know I’m new, but Donna told me she had a rough time and …’

‘Her ex was a bit on the heavy-handed side should we say?’ There was a flash of anger on his face and then he turned into the parking lot of Dean’s Grocery.

‘That’s terrible.’

‘It is terrible. But the sheriff set about talking to him and that didn’t really work. He figured that since his daddy went way back with the sheriff’s daddy that meant something. So, some of us locals gave him a taste of his own medicine. And he decided it was bitter medicine. That he didn’t want to take it anymore. Or dish it out, I guess.’

I felt a stab of self-righteous joy at the fact that some men had taken it upon themselves to help Joy out by confronting the man abusing her. Back in the big city, crime and pain and abuse were often met with the ‘it’s-none-of-my-business-so-I-don’t-see-it’ way of living.

‘Wow.’

‘Yeah, we’d do it for anyone in town. No one deserves to be someone’s punching bag. Your vows don’t mean you become property.’

He put the car in park and turned to smile. ‘Here we are. Enough of that stuff. You ready for some pickles?’

‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’

Before I could open the door, he took my arm in his big hand. ‘Can I be the one to butt in for a moment?’

I swallowed hard but nodded. Tit for tat. ‘Sure.’

‘Deke is my friend. I saw him after our date. He’s been my friend since I couldn’t remember that it was L-M-N-O-P as opposed to an actual word
elemenopy
. So when I say to you that the man has it bad for you, take me seriously. Deke’s never been one to share a woman. For any length of time. When I asked about you, he said he could wait for you to figure it out.’

I looked away.

‘I’m just saying … that means something coming from Deke.’

I nodded, unable to speak. Finally, I put my hand on the car handle and said, ‘Pickles?’

‘Pickles,’ he echoed and we went into Dean’s in search of decent food.

‘Six kinds of pickles, you can’t go wrong,’ I said to Keith, when he pulled up in my drive. When he moved to get out I said, ‘Stay, stay. It’s three tote bags of food. No biggie. Thanks again for the scoop on the pizza and the grocery store.’

‘Come on, don’t be silly.’ He put the car into park and helped me with two of the bags after handing me the pizza box.

‘Gasp!’ I teased. ‘I get to keep the leftovers?’

‘You were my guest and now you know how good a Dante’s pizza is. You must experience it for at least another day.’

‘I have to confess. After smelling the lovely smells coming out of the box, I doubt it’ll last the night.’

I kissed his cheek and he patted my head like I was his kid sister. ‘Thanks for the talk.’

‘Good luck with Joy,’ I said. I fumbled to unlock the door and then a very excited black and tan face was pressing vehemently through the crack in the door. ‘Hey, B,’ I said to the dog.

‘Good luck figuring that out,’ Keith said, waving a hand toward the houses and the tower that seemed to loom over my home – my life. ‘Hey, little man.’ He stooped, patted Brutus and said, ‘And of course, good luck with those pickles.’