Now & Forever 3 - Blind love (4 page)

“Didn’t know you were such a touchy-feely kind of guy, Mac.
Always thought of you as…stoic, I guess,” Peter said, popping open two beers in
the kitchen and handing one to Mac.

“It’s Callie. Just can’t keep my hands off her.”

“I can see why,” Peter replied with a chuckle.

“Watch it, Pete,” Mac warned, raising his palm to his brother.

Peter put up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Joking
here…your first marriage wasn’t like that?”

“Got that right. Callie is different. Never met a woman like
her.” Mac turned to look at his brother as he took a healthy swig of his beer.

“Wish I could have her cloned,” Peter joked.

“I hope you find someone like her too, shrimp…and settle down…it’d
be good for you.” Mac put his hand on Peter’s shoulder and looked him right in
the eye.

“Maybe I will. I’d like to have what you have here.” Peter
nodded once at Mac then turned to leave the kitchen.

* * * *

Mac took a bottle of wine and two glasses up to bed, when he
and Callie retired at nine thirty. Sam took a book into the living room. Peter
was restless. The darkness of the lake was broken by the light of a full moon.
A cool breeze with a hint of fresh lilacs enticed him outside, so he went for a
stroll. He walked down the deck to the lake and thought how romantic to be on
the lake in the moonlight with a special woman.

He turned away and went to the left of the house. Curiosity
about what was behind the house sent him down a narrow path leading from the
house to the water meter on the side and beyond. Past the house he stopped to
look up at the moon and spied the small deck attached to the master bedroom on
the second floor. He saw a tiny table, burning candles and a wine bottle. And
Mac and Callie.

They were drinking from wine glasses and undressing each
other. Although he knew he should leave, Peter was transfixed. Mac pulled his T-shirt
over his head. Then he took Callie’s shirt over her head and off. He reached around
and unhooked her bra, freeing her breasts. Peter couldn’t see much of Callie
except for a little in silhouette because the moon was behind her and Mac was
in front of her. The shadows hiding her body from his eyes relieved Peter of
guilt from spying on them.

Callie unzipped Mac’s pants and pulled them down. He slid her
shorts off and then her panties. She pulled his boxers down. They stood there
facing each other naked in the moonlight. Callie reached up to touch his face.
Mac stepped back a little to look at Callie, then he took her in his arms and
kissed her and kissed her. Peter could see Callie’s hands disappear in Mac’s
hair. Then Mac’s face moved down to Callie’s neck.

They broke to finish their wine. After the wine was gone,
Callie stepped toward Mac, running her hands up his chest. He couldn’t see
Mac’s hands, but suddenly Callie was pulled in closer to Mac and they kissed
again, Mac losing one hand in Callie’s flowing hair. Then Mac dropped down to
his knees and put his arms around Callie, burying his face in the shadows where
her breasts were. Callie threw her head back, her hair blowing slightly in the
soft, warm breeze. She ran her hands over Mac’s shoulders and bent her head
down to kiss the top of his head.

Mac stood up, blew out the candles and picked up Callie. He
carried her through the narrow door into the bedroom. Unease about spying on
the lovers ate at Peter, but the scene was so loving, gentle and sweet he had a
hard time pulling himself away. Their love touched his heart.

He returned to the house.

“Tea, Pete?” Sam asked, pouring from the kettle.

“Sure.”

Father and son sat down outside on the deck.

“Callie is perfect for Mac, don’t you think?” Sam asked.

“He was lucky to find her,” Peter said.

“And those kids…they’re fantastic!” Sam said. “Give you any
ideas, Pete?”

“I’d like to have what Mac has,” Peter confided.

“Sure you don’t want to continue tomcatting around?”

“I’d settle down quickly if I found a girl like Callie.”

“Not because you want to do what your older brother’s doing,
but because you want a family?”

“He has a good life. They’re not tired of each other, they
don’t fight or bicker…they love each other.”

“Their kind of devotion is a rare thing. Your mother and I
were close too. I hope you find it, Pete, I’d like to see you happily settled.”

“What are the chances of finding another Callie in a hick
town like Willow Falls?”

* * * *

Back in Willow Falls, the nightlife was beginning to heat up
as Alan drove Rex to The Wet Tee Shirt. It was six o’clock and the place was
filling up. It was dark but Rex saw an empty table close to the stage.

“Let’s get a drink here and then have dinner somewhere else.
The food here probably sucks,” Rex suggested.

Alan agreed. After they ordered drinks, the music started up
again and the girls, who had been on break, came out and began to dance
topless.

Rex watched as a brunette and a redhead gyrated. He couldn’t
decide which to approach, so he made eye contact with both. The redhead looked
bored and spying Rex staring at her didn’t do much to change her attitude. But the
brunette smiled back at him. He looked her over carefully and liked what he
saw. She would be perfect, if she were cooperative. He’d come back after
dinner, when he could ditch the stiff, Alan. Then he could move in on her.

* * * *

Across town in the hospital, Jay was restless.

“We should’ve had children. Now you’re going to be completely
alone.”

“Hush. It’s fine, Jay.”

Marcia tried to listen and be sympathetic to his feelings,
but her emotional reserve was stretched to the breaking point. Her nerves were
raw; she hung on to sanity by a thread sometimes, waiting for her beloved Jay
to die.

On this beautiful day in May, she got home to the frame house
with brown shutters and cream shingles at about six in the evening. The front
door was unlocked. She entered cautiously, ready to dial 911 on her cell phone
when she saw him. A tall, strange man was in the kitchen, fixing the sink. She
jumped, fear in her eyes.

“No, no, so sorry, sorry,” he said in broken English, raising
his hands, smiling and shaking his head. “I fix sink. Johnny’s father, Jakub.”

Marcia exhaled a big sigh of relief. The sink had needed
fixing for a week at least. Jakub looked to be about fifty years old. He was
about six feet and broad-chested, wearing a blue work shirt and jeans. His
shirtsleeves were rolled up to reveal large, firm forearms. His short hair was
a warm brown, going to gray. His face, weathered by time and the elements, had even,
handsome features including warm brown eyes. Marcia determined he was no
threat.

She poured herself a strong vodka and tonic, looked through
the mail and switched the television on to the ballgame with barely a nod to
Jakub.

Jakub worked for another fifteen minutes, then put everything
back together. On his way out, he looked at the television and asked, “Yankees?”

“Mets,” she replied and managed a small smile.

“Finish tomorrow. Goodnight.”

Marcia made another strong drink, ate some cheese and
crackers then climbed up the steep stairs to the bedroom, took her clothes off,
fell into bed and passed out.

* * * *

At midnight The Wet Tee Shirt was still rocking. Rex walked
in after dropping his cousin at home. The place was dark. There was canned
music and two busty women were pole dancing topless. Men were drinking,
talking, and ogling the dancers.

Rex sat down near the stage and ordered a beer. Being in the
mood for sex, he watched the women with interest. At The Hideaway in Harlem
where he worked for eight years as a bouncer, he only dated waitresses and
kitchen help. He rarely had time to connect with other women because he worked
six nights a week. He managed to score enough sex to stay reasonably satisfied,
but Rex had never been in love. He was thirty-five years old, lucky in
blackmail, unlucky in love.

“Wadda ya have?”

Rex looked up to see a topless waitress there to take his
order. His gaze slid down her body like a snake, openly evaluating her breasts
and hips. She stifled a yawn.

“Scotch neat. You dance too?”

“Sometimes. Not my night tonight. Be right back.”

Rex had a lonely childhood. He’d missed having a father and
had gotten angry at being pushed around by his sisters. He put a stop to it
when he was fifteen by knocking his oldest sister, Hazel, onto the kitchen
floor once. They left him alone after that.

The waitress returned and put his drink on top of a small,
square paper napkin.

“What’s your name?”

“Mary. I’m not available. Sorry.” She hustled away, her dark
hair swinging, her breasts bouncing.

Rex had gone into the army after high school and learned
discipline. The army taught him how to take care of himself and build up his
body. He’d matured, and acquired some self-confidence. When he got out, he was
a new man on the outside, cunning, muscular, able to defend himself and take
what he wanted, but on the inside he was still the frustrated, neglected child
whose heart was growing callous.

One of the dancers spied him and recognized him from earlier
in the evening. She flashed him a smile and he smiled back. He evaluated her
body and hair, liking what he saw.

Rex looked good. He got his nose fixed, paid for a good
haircut and bought the most popular clothing styles. He wanted to create an
image, become a babe magnet. Although he was only five foot nine, he was
powerful. His light brown hair and washed-out eyes were nondescript, but he
made a decent first impression, especially with women. Though he wasn’t the
smartest guy in school, he became wise in the ways of the world working at The
Hideaway. Rex learned how to pick up girls. Underneath his impressive pecs was
a stone-cold heart hardening a little more with every disappointment, every
year of crushing loneliness.

He looked around, hoping to see a “help wanted” sign at The
Wet Tee Shirt but there was none. He didn’t notice any bouncer on the premises
and wondered why. He figured to use one of the dancers to get the information
he needed. He could probably get a job at the topless bar through her too. The
redhead danced with more confidence than the brunette. He picked the
dark-haired dancer, figuring she’d be easier to manipulate as she had already
smiled at him.

At break time Rex caught her eye.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he offered, smiling as he pulled out
a chair for her.

He looked good enough, clean and trim, but it was pulling out
the chair for her that seemed to catch her eye.

“I’ll be back,” she said, then reappeared in a top so skimpy
as to be almost non-existent.

She sat down at Rex’s table.

“What are you drinking?” he asked, trying not to stare at her
chest like other men.

“Raj knows,” she said, nodding to the bartender.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Deena. What’s yours?”

“I’m Rex. Nice to meet you, Deena.”

Deena smiled at him and picked up her drink. Rex wore a
sleeveless shirt to show off his impressive arm muscles. He knew he looked
good. After a glance around the room, he knew he looked better than the other
patrons and he wasn’t a fat slob, rude or staring at her chest.

Rex covered her hand with his and kept it there. He wanted to
show her he was different. He wasn’t interested in gawking at her breasts or
trying to get her into bed, he was interested in a business partnership. If
they happened to fall into the sack together…well, that was an added benefit.

“When do you get off?” Rex asked, putting his empty glass
down on the table.

“Why?” Deena asked, downing the last of her drink.

“I’d like to take you to dinner. Is there a nice place here
open late?”

“You new here?”

“I rolled into town a few days ago.” Rex rested his elbows on
the small round table.

“How long you planning to stay?” Deena narrowed her eyes at
him.

“Depends upon how my business goes. If it goes as I planned,
indefinitely,” he said, sitting back in his chair.

“What business are you in?” Deena lit a cigarette.

“Why don’t we discuss it over dinner tonight? Do you have
plans?”

“The only plans I have are to go home and fall into
bed…alone.”

“Good. Then tonight you can do something different.”

“You mean fall into bed with you?”

“Maybe just dinner?” Rex asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Okay. Dinner it is. Where are you from?”

“New York City. What time should I pick you up?”

“This joint closes at one a.m. Go home, take a nap.”

“Naw. I’m fine. I’ll be here at one.”

“No nap?”

“Not unless it’s with you, Deena.”

“Yeah, Mr. Smooth. Okay. Pick me up at one,” she said,
stubbing out her cigarette and standing up.

Rex got up when she got up. She noticed. It was eleven-thirty,
that meant he had an hour and a half to kill. He ordered another drink and
watched Deena dance. He liked looking at her body while he plotted his
strategy. It’d work better if she got him hired here. Rex sat back and smiled
to himself. Perhaps this podunk little town wasn’t so bad after all.

* * * *

In the neat house on James Street, Peter worked on his
lecture then took a break to work on a Beethoven sonata, a new piece he’d been
practicing. He began and after a minute, stopped. Then he started again. Then
stopped.

He was having trouble with the beginning, when he heard a
female voice scream, “Keep playing! Why are you stopping?”