by Vivian Ward
As soon as he’s gone, his girlfriend starts in.
“No. No sandwiches,” Emma says. “Let’s get some Chinese food.” Rocco and I look at her like she’s lost her mind. “What? I saw a place on our way here.”
“Do you know where we’re at? Even if there was a Chinese place, I’d imagine it won’t taste very good,” Rocco says to her.
“I don’t care. I’m not eating sandwiches. We had those earlier. And you guys were really going to cook fish? That you caught from the lake? Gross!”
“Well, I don’t care what we have. I’m starving,” I say. I know the Chinese place that she’s talking about; it’s about twenty minutes from the lake. “Rocco, are you good with Chinese food?”
“I guess,” he says, turning on the stereo as he cracks open a beer.
“Okay, I’ll go ask Harley what he wants and then we can place an order. Us girls can go pick it up.”
Before Emma can utter another word, I open the bathroom door and walk in while Harley’s showering. “Harley, we’re going to get Chinese food from the place in town. What do you want us to order for you?”
The shower curtain pulls back and he pokes his head out. “Um, I’ll take Sesame chicken with chicken fried rice,” he says. “Are you sure you want to drive all the way into town in this storm? It’s like a twenty minute ride.”
“Yeah, that’s what Emma wants so that’s what we’re ordering,” I tell him.
He rolls his eyes. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he whispers. “Give me a minute to get out and I’ll drive. I don’t like the idea of you being stuck in mud or out on the side of the road if you’d get a flat.”
When I make my way back into the living room with Emma and Rocco, I can’t help but notice the sour, pissed off expression on her face. She’s standing at the window with her arms crossed and her lips pressed in a hard line.
“Okay,” I say. “Harley’s going to drive. Are you guys ready to order? I can call it in as soon as everyone knows what they want.”
“Yeah, I’ll take my usual,” Rocco says.
“Okay, and what about you, Emma? Do you know what you want?”
She whips her head around and says, “Yeah,” real firm. I don’t know what her problem is but she has some serious attitude. “I’ll take an order of pork fried rice,” she says, turning her attention back to the storm.
As I’m calling in our order, Harley comes out of the bedroom, pulling a shirt over his head as he picks up his boots. “Who’s riding?” He asks.
Emma scrunches up her nose, “Not me! It’s raining too hard.” She gives Harley a dirty look and it’s not lost on any of us. He walks over to the window where she’s watching the storm and they begin to whisper.
I can’t hear everything that’s being said but, apparently, I stepped on her toes when I went into the bathroom while he was showering to find out what he wanted to eat and now she’s pouting about it.
“I’ll come along,” I say, grabbing a couple of ponchos from the mud room. I know it’ll piss her off even more to know that I’m going into town with him but it was her idea to order the food in the first place. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t give me a little satisfaction to piss her off a bit more. Harley’s been in my life a hell of a lot longer than hers and she’s been quite the Debbie Downer ever since they got here.
“Are you sure?” He asks her once more.
“Positive,” she says, crossing her arms as she turns her attention back to the window.
“Suit yourself,” he shrugs as he grabs his keys. “See you guys in a bit.”
We dart to the truck to get out of the monsoon, hoping not to get too soaked despite our rain gear. Being the true gentleman he is, Harley stops to open the truck door for me and I jump in while he runs to the other side of the truck.
As we pull off from the cabin, I can’t help but notice the sour look on Emma’s face as she continues staring out the window.
Good, I think to myself. He’s too good for her anyway. Let her be pissed off because she has no clue what a great man she has—and is most likely about to lose.
“I’m freezing,” I say, shivering from the cold rain. “It’s insane how much the temperature dropped from this afternoon.”
“Come here,” he pats the middle seat. “I’ll keep you warm.” Sliding over in the seat, I nestle up against him as he turns the heat on. My teeth chatter as I try to warm up. “Wow, you’re really cold.”
“I know,” I say, covering the air vents with my hands.
“Then I’m not doing my job,” he says, as he wraps his arm around me. “I said I’d warm you up and here you are, freezing.”
Smiling up at him, I say, “Thanks,” before placing my head on his shoulder.
Driving down the dark, winding country roads, the radio is nothing but static thanks to the thunderstorm and the only light to help us see the road is an occasional flash of lightning. I could fall asleep resting against him—and almost do—but his deep voice pulls me from somnolence.
“Jules, we’re almost there,” he says.
I open my sleepy eyes and see the neon marquee that spells out Great Chinese, except half the letters are burnt out but it still lights up the parking lot enough to easily find it.
“Okay, babe,” I sleepily say. The words slip out of my mouth with such ease that it doesn’t even register that I’ve just called him babe until he looks at me. My eyes grow wide, as do his, until a warm smile tugs at the corners of his mouth and reaches all the way up to his eyes.
“Let’s go in,” he says, holding out his hand to help me out of the truck.
Chapter 6
Rocco
We picked the worst weekend in history to come to the cabin because the rain hasn’t let up the whole time. I swear I’m in the wrong business. I should’ve become a meteorologist because it’s the only job that you can consistently fuck things up and never get fired.
But we’ve had a good weekend just hanging out inside the cabin. Well, as fun as it can be with Emma always bitching about something. She’s cute and has a nice body, but I can’t figure out why Harley’s with her. Maybe it’s because they hooked up shortly after his breakup and she offered him a place to stay, or maybe it’s because he’s not making as much as he used to now that he’s tending bar instead of working construction.
I’ve thought about proposing he come work for me but I don’t want him to feel like I’m offering him a hand out. But the truth of the matter is that I really could use an extra pair of hands—and not just any hands. He’s very talented and knows his shit. I’d be the lucky one if he were to come work for me because it’d save me from hiring another dumb ass who thinks we get paid to sit around and drag out jobs. I hate that sort of mentality because in reality, the faster we get a job done, the sooner we can move onto the next, and that’s how we make more money.
What most of these peons don’t understand is that I get paid by the job. I bid on it and, if the customer agrees to the price, I get the work. The only hourly pay about it is the money that I pay my employees, which are hard to come by. It’s like the younger generation doesn’t want to work or take things seriously. Most guys my age or older are almost too old to be lifting and carrying all the things we have to use for the jobs. I’m lucky that my body still has a lot to give because I keep myself healthy by eating right and keeping active. A lot of them are out of shape, unless they’ve always worked in this line of business and if they have, they’re not going to want to do the hard jobs because of all the years they’ve already put in. They want to be supervisors; but at my business, I’m the one who calls the shots.
On the other hand, part of me likes the fact that he works with Jules so I know that nobody fucks with her while she’s at work. I’ve always hated it when she’s told me about guys hitting on her at the bar or their lewd attempts to make advances toward her. With Harley by her side all night, I know that none of that goes on now—but I worry about the two of them.
I’d be a fool not to see how she looks at him
sometimes. It’s the same look she had for me when we first got together. I’m not even sure if she realizes that she does it, or if she just doesn’t care that I see it.
It hurts no matter which way you spin it.
I knock back another shot of whiskey as I sit at the table, watching Jules and Harley dance. The two of them are so drunk that I have no idea how either one of them are standing but they’re having a blast. I sometimes wonder how I was the lucky one who got Jules and how he didn’t end up with her instead. The two of them are like peanut butter and jelly, and we’re more like oil and water.
A lot of the guys who come into the bar assume that the two of them are husband and wife, and maybe that’s my fault. I used to encourage her to play it up while the two of them were at work but, somehow, I think it crossed an imaginary line. Maybe if I’d have spent more time at the bar, they’d know that she’s married to me and not Harley. But I wouldn’t do that to her—hang around her work. I wouldn’t want her to feel like I was keeping tabs on her. Our marriage would never last if I did that but I’m not so sure it will anyway.
Watching them dance makes me realize how good the two of them look together. Some men might feel threatened or jealous by their best friend being so close to their wife, but I’m not that type of guy. It’s actually crossed my mind what the two of them would look like if they ever got together.
No, I don’t mean as a couple. I’d like to think that her heart belongs to me, but what they’d look like together if they ever hooked up. It’s crossed my mind a time or two about what it’d be like if we were to have a threesome; me and Jules, not with anyone in particular, but Harley would be a good partner to have in the bedroom. There’s obviously some chemistry between the two of them.
When we were both single, there were many nights that we shared a hotel room or shared a thin wall, and I’ve seen and heard him fuck the shit out of some girls. Watching him with those women was pretty fucking hot, and imagining him and Jules together is even hotter. I know it’s wrong of me to think like that, to imagine him fucking her, but it’s always been a fantasy of mine. It’s mostly because I know how amazing Jules feels and how fucking sexy she looks when she’s sitting on top of me, riding my cock. Her long hair cascading over her shoulders as she tips her head back while her eyes dance as she orgasms, it’s fucking hot.
I stifle my growing erection as the two of them laugh and fall all over each other. Sour puss Emma has done nothing but pout all weekend, and I’m glad she went to bed early so I don’t have to hide the bulge behind my zipper too much. Jules and Harley are too drunk to notice.
In a fucked up, twisted way, I’m actually glad Jules has him around. With all the hours that I’ve been working, I’m sure she gets lonely and bored. And it doesn’t help that things in the bedroom have been strained for a while.
Around midnight, Jules is too drunk to stand up so I carry her to the bedroom and kiss her goodnight before I climb in bed beside her. Once she starts snoring, I replay images of her and Harley in my head as I begin stroking my cock. Instead of fearing losing her to him, my fucked up mind forces me to think about him putting his dick inside her. Stroking faster, I picture him on top of her and I can feel everything building up. Her innocent face pops in my head and I think about her staring into my eyes as he fucks her. Before the fantasy can finish playing out, I come. When I’m finished, I grab my shirt from the floor beside the bed and clean everything up.
Looking over at Jules, guilt washes over me. What the fuck is wrong with me? Instead of fearing losing her to Harley, I’m over here jerking it to imagining the two of them fucking. Like I said, hopefully, her heart belongs to me. If it doesn’t, then I guess we were never meant to be but while she’s still my wife, I lean over and give her one last peck on the forehead before I fall asleep next to her.
In the morning, I’m awake before anyone else in the house. Jules is passed out cold, still wearing her shorts and tank top, and I can hear Harley snoring so loud that he could strip the wood right off the walls if he just inhaled a bit more.
I put on a pot of coffee and check the weather outside. The rain has finally cleared up and it looks like a perfect morning to go fishing. I take a look around the cabin, and contemplate cleaning up. All of last night’s remnants of playing cards, drinking, and eating are littered throughout the kitchen, dining room and living room but I’m afraid cleaning up will wake the others.
Instead, I take care not to wake anyone, I get dressed and grab my fishing gear along with my thermos and head out to the lake. The water is calm despite all the rain and it’s up a few inches but I know the fish will be biting.
As I sit at the bank, I think about Jules. We had a great time playing cards last night and, for the most part, our weekend has been good. Harley and I have even been able to bond a little. I’d say the only negative thing about this trip has been his girlfriend. She’s a stick in the mud, but I guess the country isn’t for everyone. Maybe if she’d have spent a little more time with Harley, I could’ve had more alone time with my wife but nothing is perfect.
This weekend has made me realize how quickly time goes by and if Jules and I are ever going to start a family, maybe it’s time for a fresh start and a new beginning. I make a conscious decision that I’m going to build us a house, away from the city, so that when we do have a baby, it’ll have a nice school to go to and a safer neighborhood to play in.
I probably should’ve done this sooner, but I was so fixated on just getting her pregnant that I never really thought about it. When we get home, I’m going to talk to Jules about it and, hopefully, we’ll start trying again.
It’s only been an hour and the fish are beginning to bite. I reel in a medium-sized bass and toss it in my cooler before casting my line back in the water again. I love this peaceful quiet, it’s the complete opposite of what I’m used to and I appreciate it.
My mind begins to wander if we should move to the suburbs or the country when we build our new house, but I guess that’s something that Jules and I can decide together. I want her to be happy and I’ll be okay with whatever she decides because all I want is to be with her. It doesn’t matter where we are, just as long as we’re together.
The beauty of being in my line of work is that I can build whatever we want. I’m sure Jules will love designing the new house and maybe that in itself will renew her hope and our marriage.
Building it won’t cost nearly as much as buying it since I’ll be doing the work myself. I can get a few of my friends to help. I know Harley would be down, and there are a few other guys that are on my crew who I know would help. I’ll toss them an extra few bucks. I know they need the money and I wouldn’t expect anyone to work for free.
This could change everything. A new house, a new chance, and a new beginning. It’s exactly what we need.
I stay out on the water until I’ve caught enough fish for lunch before I pack up my gear to head back to the cabin. Now all I have to decide is if I’m going to talk to Jules about the new house before or after our weekend is over at the lake.
Chapter 7
Jules
The sun is beaming through the wooden blinds, forcing me to squint my eyes as I wake up with my head pounding. It feels like there’s a tiny construction crew working at full force with a rock band getting ready to perform. “Damn you, José Cuervo,” I curse under my breath. I grab my forehead and wince in pain as I try to turn away from the window, and that’s when I notice Rocco isn’t by my side.
He must be in the kitchen, I think to myself.
I can smell freshly brewed coffee and it reminds me how much I had to drink last night. There’s way too much vodka and tequila floating around in my stomach. Maybe some toast and a cup of coffee, along with a bottle of ibuprofen, will help my stomach and headache. I need something to soak up the alcohol so I can function today.
It’s only when I make my way through the cabin that I realize he’s nowhere to be found. I peek inside Harley’s room and find him and Emma
still tucked away under the bedsheets.
Thank God she’s still sleeping.
It’s too early to deal with her this morning. She’s on my last nerve. She got so jealous last night when Harley and I were dancing in the living room. Instead of joining us, she stormed off to their room and went to bed. Rocco’s not much of a dancer, but Harley’s pretty light on his feet so we had a great time. I always love dancing with Harley. We do it all the time at the bar, and everyone loves watching us. The two of us are in tune with each other and it makes it so seamless.
Wondering where my husband is, I look out at the porch and notice all of his fishing is missing. With the rain gone, I bet he’s down at the lake. My eyes loom over the mess that’s still lingering from last night. I was far too drunk to do any cleaning before I went to bed. In fact, I don’t really remember going to bed.
I pour myself the last of the coffee that Rocco left behind and start another pot before I throw a couple of slices of bread in the toaster. Grabbing the bottle of ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet, I down a few with my coffee and return to the kitchen.
After I eat my toast, I sigh as I think about cleaning up this mess. Every room is trashed and it’s going to take forever in my condition. Just making coffee and toast has taken me almost a half hour; I can only imagine how long it’ll take me to clean up from last night.
“What’s wrong, gorgeous?” Harley asks, startling me from my thoughts.
“Oh! You scared me,” I grab my chest. “I didn’t hear you walk in here.” I wave my hand through the air, “This place is trashed and I was thinking about cleaning it up.”
“Yeah?” He asks, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Where’s your old man?”
“I guess fishing. The rain finally stopped and his poles are gone, and he was kind enough to leave me all this,” I point to the mess again.