SHIVER: 13 Sexy Tales of Humor and Horror (46 page)

“I can’t believe
the car was out of gas.” I shook my head in disbelief as the tow truck driver gave me the news. I wanted to blame it on the fact I’ve rarely driven a car in three years or that the gas gauge might be busted. But there was no excuse for my stupidity, as usual. Or was it ass as usual?

“You’d be surprised how often this happen.” The tow truck driver tried to cheer me up. “I bet it’s once a day. That’s why we always carry a full can of gas with us.”

“Well, at least the car doesn’t need repairs. Not so sure about my ability to drive one though.” I quipped under my breath as the driver put the cap back on the now empty can.  “How much do I owe you?”

“Taken care of right, Bernie?” Thomas stuffed a few bills into Bernie’s shirt pocket. His hands were so quick I wasn’t able to see how much money he’d put inside.

Dammit, I hated owing anyone a dime, and once again Thomas was in charge. I wondered if he thought of me like a kid sister since I was Mel’s best friend. One thing for sure, I appreciated his help and the view.

“Thanks. But I owe you.” Thomas just smiled and shook his head. It didn’t appear I’d win the argument with him either. “I’ll make a donation to the policeman’s fund in your name.”

“How about I follow you back to your aunts? That’s where you’re staying I presume.” Thomas opened the car door for me and I slipped inside.

“Yes, but I’ll be okay on my own.” Part of me wanted him to follow me home and tuck me into bed for the night while he slipped in next to me under the covers. Naked. “I survived living in New York City for three years and you know what they say…”

“If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere.” Thomas crooned and a sweet tingle ran over my skin.

“Where did you learn to sing like that?” I’d never heard him sing all the times I’d hung out at their home when I was a kid. I would’ve remembered because he sung in a way no one could forget.

“There’s more than muscle behind this badge, Patty Cake.” Thomas closed the door to my car now that I was seated behind the wheel and staring up at him in awe and lust. Mainly lust.

“Hey. It’s Trish to you buster.” I teased him with a smile through the car’s open window.

“Fine, Trish,” Thomas spat out my name. I would’ve preferred that he sang it.

“Fine.” I returned with a mocking tone.

“You’re something else, PC.” Thomas reached in and tasseled the hair on the top of my head, adding to the already messed up do.

“What the…” But it was too late. Thomas had already headed back to his patrol car.

After putting the car in drive, I steered out onto the road. A pair of headlights shone in my rear view mirror as Thomas followed close behind.

When my car hit the paved driveway of Aunt Marge’s house, I noticed how dark it was without a light shining from a window. The place didn’t look like the same inviting home I remembered now being cast in darkness. I was glad to see Thomas’s patrol car stopping right behind mine.

I had mixed emotions about going inside the house since I’d really not said farewell to Aunt Marge. She left specific instructions in her will. Since she knew her time was short, she dictated exactly how she wanted her funeral services. Basically none. A short but sweet memorial service was planned at the college she taught at for some time in mid-November. Other than that, she asked for no fanfare. And no goodbyes

Tap. Tap. Tap.

There was Thomas again at my window while I sat daydreaming and thinking about my aunt. Walking into the lonely house couldn’t be avoided, so I took a deep breath, reached for Tommie’s carrier handle, and opened the door.

“You okay?” Thomas asked in concern.

“Yeah. Just thinking. Seems weird to come back here and Aunt Marge’s gone.” Thomas took the carrier from my hands as we started to make our way toward the front door.

“When was the last time you saw her?” Thomas questioned while we walked up the Victorian’s wooden steps.

“She came to visit me last Christmas in New York. I had no idea she was sick at all. She didn’t tell a soul.” I could almost feel my aunt’s arms from the last hug we shared. If I’d only known then…

“Give me your keys.” Thomas ordered in a quiet but firm way. Without thinking I dug the keys out of my pocket and handed them over. I obeyed Thomas very well. I hope it earned me some brownie points.

The door creaked open and the smell of roses hit my nose. Tears soon followed.

“Let me get the rest of your stuff out of the car while you get settled.”

I wiped my eyes and pushed back my hair before I turned to face Thomas. “Who knew you were such a nice guy?”

“I have my rare moments.” Thomas walked toward me, closing the gap between us and brought his fingers up to my cheek. “I’m sorry.”

His gentle touch swiped away any stray tears. “Thanks,” I whispered and looked up at him through watery eyes.

He reached around my body with his strong arms and gave me a comforting hug. But as he pulled away, I thought I heard him say. “I’d rather be naughty.”

“How did everything
go at the attorney’s office today?” Mel asked as she sat across the table from me.

We’d decided to meet for lunch at a restaurant close to the river. I’d only been back a couple days, and we hadn’t had a chance to really catch up.

“My aunt has to be laughing in her grave.” I put the menu down and looked at Mel. “The hoops I have to jump through to inherit her estate are nuts, but I really don’t have a choice.”

“This reminds me of one of the those movies where the person has to find a spouse by the weekend or they’re written out of the rich uncle’s will.” Mel laughed, hoping to lighten my mood, but this wasn’t some Hollywood comedy. Instead it was my fucked up life.

“Yeah. I keep waiting for the Punk’d film crew to show up at any minute.” I scanned the patron’s surrounding us. “But I don’t see hide nor hair of Ashton Kutcher and he’s not easy to miss.”

“So what are all the requirements?” Mel took a sip of her diet cola. “They have to be something crazy to get you to move back here from New York City.”

“Well you know my cousin Lenny.” I paused while Mel nodded her head.

“He’s scary.” Mel shuddered and I followed with a knowing laugh.

“You have no idea. He was at the meeting today and I swear he looked like a Zombie ready for Halloween. It’s been forever since I’ve seen him. Maybe ten years and he looks like he’s about fifty with no teeth.”

“Why was he at the attorney’s?” Mel asked.

“Long story short. I have to stay here an entire year at my aunt’s house. Basically set up residency. Remove every shred of evidence that I was once a happy New Yorker. If I don’t, Lenny will inherit the estate, lock, stock, and meth pipe.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Mel scoffed and scrunched her face in a most unpleasant manner. “Is that even legal? Can she really make you do this?”

“Apparently it’s all legitimate though sadistic in a twisted way. The attorney mentioned something about Aunt Marge’s assets being held in an escrow account with specific stipulations that I have to meet.”

“Wow, I never knew your aunt had it in her.”

“I know. I think it’s more the Demi Duke side of her. Her alter ego.” I chuckled as our salads were placed in front of us. “My mother thinks she wanted me out of New York City. She lived there right out of college like me. Before she decided on pursuing her doctorate. She thought the city sucked souls from the young. Quote, unquote.”

“When she visited you there last December, did you have any clue what was coming?”

“Clueless. She did question me about my life in New York City. How the dating life was. Maybe I should’ve told her some lies instead of telling her I’d yet to meet a decent guy after three years. I complained about them all being asshole players.”

I had searched my mind since I heard the terms of my aunt’s will. Nothing from that three-day visit months ago would’ve tipped me off to what I was facing now.

The estate she left me was massive, totaling eight million dollars including the Victorian house. Aunt Marge found success as the writer Demi Duke in the Seventy’s and Eighty’s. A smart broker had her make two killer investments with her money. Nike in 1975 and Apple in 1981. The money grew each year, and she left a hefty estate to me, but it was a gift with strings that pulled me back to Marietta. Ones that dragged me back here kicking and screaming.

“Hey there’s Bailey McMasters. She’s walking our way.” Mel whispered leaning forward and moving her eyes somewhere behind me.

The thought of seeing “Beautiful Bailey” made me freeze. Bailey was the “It” girl that all boys wanted to date in high school and all the girls wanted to hate, but she was truly a super nice person. A basic nightmare. My days as Fatty Patty made me slide down into the seat.

“Hi, Mel.” Bailey greeted Mel before I could see her over my shoulder.

“Hi, Bailey.” Mel glanced at me and kicked me under the table, making me turn around and face Bailey. There was nowhere to hide now. “You remember Patricia Hopkins?”

I stared openmouthed at Bailey. Time hadn’t been kind to her. Her hair was shaggy and the bags under her eyes made her look well past thirty. The person standing in front of me looked haggard at best.

“Sure, I remember you Bailey,” I answered and relaxed my shoulders.

“Wow, Patty. You look great. I wouldn’t have recognized you in a million years.”

“Thanks,” I replied, and bit my lip so I wouldn’t make some mean girl comment about not recognizing her in a million years either.

“No seriously. You look like a model. All polished.” Bailey continued to gush over the changes in me since I moved away.

“Why don’t you join us?” Mel asked while pushing out the empty chair at the table. “We can catch up.”

“Do you mind? My mother has the twins for the afternoon and I so need some girl time.” Bailey had settled in the seat before she finished her sentence. “I heard you were back in town, Patty.”

I cringed when I heard that old name again. It was time to put Patty six feet under.

“I decided to reinvent myself when I left here and I go by Trish now. If you don’t mind.”

“That’s right,” Bailey exclaimed. I was puzzled how Bailey knew I changed my name. “Your brother told me about it, Mel.”

“My brother?” Mel volleyed her eyes back and forth between Bailey and me. “I think I’m missing something here.”

I hung my head before I answered. “I might have run into your brother last week.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mel asked, appearing shocked that I didn’t mention it.

“I forgot. I’m sorry. It’s been one thing after another, since I walked into my aunt’s house.”

“Well believe me, you made quite an impression on Thomas.” Bailey waggled her brows and added a wink. “He couldn’t stop talking about you.”

“You guys are close?” I had to know more, so I pried.

“My husband and Thomas are on the force together. He’s over at our house a lot, helping us finish our basement.” Bailey beamed while telling the background to knowing Thomas. “He’s intense, but a super sweet guy.”

“He’s intense alright.” Mel quipped and all eyes were on her now. “He’s bossy sometimes is all I’m saying.

I remembered how Thomas had ordered me around and I instinctively obeyed without even a thought. He didn’t seem too demanding just in charge. An alpha-type guy who was looking out for me. Yeah, he could boss me around anytime, preferably in the bedroom.

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

Bailey picked her phone up off the table and answered an incoming call. Her eyes went wide as she listened to the caller. She nodded her head over and over again.

“Okay, I’ll be right there. Memorial right?” Bailey slumped in her seat and lowered the phone. “Looks like one of the twins needs stitches. I swear it’s always something with them. Last week one of them had peas stuck up their nose.”

“God, I hope they’re okay.” Mel’s voice was full of worry.

“My mother said it’s not even bleeding now. But Jack is asking for me, so I better run along.” Bailey packed her phone away and stood up from her chair. “Great to see you, Trish.”

“Great seeing you too. Wish you could’ve stayed longer. Sounds like you need a break.” I smiled warmly at Bailey, sad that she had to leave.

“You have no idea,” Bailey huffed and turned to leave, but stopped to face Mel. “Oh Mel, I think I’ve talked Thomas into doing that Peckers thing of yours. Now that my hubby has signed up, he seems persuaded.”

I raised a bitch brow at Mel as Bailey walked away.

“Peckers? What the hell is that?”

“How long do
you have for lunch?” Mel asked with a tease. “It may take a little while to explain.”

“I have literally all day.”

I wasn’t kidding either. One bonus about my aunt’s stipulations, I didn’t have to work during the year I’m in limbo. She did encourage me to write though. Wonder if Demi Duchess is available as a pen name?

“So back to this Peckers thing. I’m assuming that Peckers is code for a guy’s junk, right?”