A Wild Ride (Jessica Brodie Diaries #3)

by K. F. Breene

  I sat still for a minute, my throat constricted. I really didn’t want to hear any of that. Heartwarming on one hand, fairly awful on the other.

  “Do you think William will break up with me?”

  Lump, a tear breaking loose, threw a shirt at me. “See what I mean? All this turmoil is happening to you, and you worry about Willie leaving you. He’s a lucky fucking guy, I’ll say that much.”

  “Except for the fact that his girlfriend is so much drama.”

  “Glass half full: I think that just helps him realize how much he can’t live without you.”

  “Or he likes S&M and hasn’t told me yet.”

  “Let’s hope it’s my theory.”

  Between Lump and I we had the clothes in the closet and organized in no time. I still had space to use up if I wanted it. Normally, I would decide a shopping trip was essential. However, for some reason I just didn't feel like bothering.

  Adam and William were relaxing in the living room watching a game on TV. Lump walked to Adam and sat down next to him, putting her hand on his leg, taking a sip of his beer. I followed suit, leaning up against William. He put his arm around me and hugged me close. It felt good. But soon I was bored. I hated watching sports games.

  Without thinking I patted him on the chest with the intent to get up, tell him to call me later, and head out. It wasn't until then that I realized I didn't have anywhere else to go. I got up anyway, asked Lump if she needed a beer; she assented so I got her one. I didn't feel like one myself.

  I walked around listlessly, like Fred when he couldn't find his bed. Consequently, Ginger walked around with me. I was the only constant thing she knew since she’d left the ranch, so she followed me around like a security blanket, even though Fred had been returned to me.

  Although, the Fred returned was a sorry state for the dog I knew. He was a mope and grumpy and whiney—just like a man. The lampshade and a few patches of stiches wasn’t making him feel any better.

  Making a decision, I called both dogs. In the living room again, William looked to me concertedly. Adam still had the studying expression on his face, and Lump ignored me completely. This was her way of letting me figure this out for myself. She didn't have experience with this and could offer me no guidance.

  "I am going to take Fred and Ginger to the ranch to run around," I said more brassily then I intended.

  "Are you okay?" William asked.

  "Yeah, but I'm bored. And Fred needs exercise, so..."

  "I'll come with." He started to get up. “Fred should be babied, and Ginger pushed.”

  "Willie, hang out with Adam," Lump said, jumping up. "He's getting on my nerves. Plus, I want to see what Jessica has learned at school."

  Before William knew what was going on, Lump was ushering me out the door with two big dogs in tow.

  "We'll see y'all tonight!" Adam yelled out the door.

  We were going to Gladis’s for a move in celebration. The only people celebrating, of course, were male. Funny how the tables had turned.

  Lump and I were silent on the way to the ranch. When we got there, I let both the dogs out, then had to prompt them to run around. Ginger, finally, took off sprinting, and Fred did a couple jogging type steps before coming back to me. I didn’t push further. He was undoubtedly as messed up as I was.

  “Gladis told me that you were buying Adam furniture,” I blurted.

  Lump looked out at the distant clouds. “Yeah.”

  “What if you and him break up?”

  Still looking into the distance she said, “I don’t ever want to. He’s the first space of home I’ve ever felt. So I’ve been going with that. But if that happens—well…I’ve wasted a few dollars.”

  “So why does it matter whose money it is?”

  She looked at me, speculating. “If I move in, which I have a feeling will come shortly, since Adam hates to be outdone by Willie—so if I do, then I want a bartering chip. If shit goes down, and one of us has to go…well, if I go, I take everything in the house with me. Without him I have no roof. Without me he has to start over with only an outer shell. It seemed fair.”

  “And he went for that?”

  “Ain’t told him yet.”

  “Ain’t?”

  “Sometimes it sounds cooler.”

  “Speaking of ain’t—slang," I kicked at the ground. "Adam has been to college, right?”

  “Yale.”

  “Fuck off—Yale?”

  Lump laughed. “Yes. Fucking Yale. Apparently he wore cowboy boots the whole way through. He was in Willie’s class.”

  “William went to Yale?” I was shocked. How did I not know that? Oh wait, because I never asked…because I was afraid it was something like that.

  “He didn’t tell you? Yeah, they went together. Yale business school. I felt like a poor dum-dum when I heard. William went on to his MBA, but Adam stopped there.”

  “Holy moly—I feel dumb, too.”

  "It is a hard situation, though,” Lump said to sidetrack me from yet another reason I wasn’t good enough for William. We wandered toward the horses and curious ranch hands. “If you guys were moving into a place together and bought stuff together, then I would say you were being a spoiled brat. But I would have a hard time if I were you. Have you seen that weird starfish painting in the guest bathroom?"

  I sighed loudly. "Yeah. Or the clock with cows on it? I dunno. I'll figure it out. I'll hang my few pictures and try to settle in. If I am there enough I should be able to make it work."

  Chapter Eight

  I returned to William's house, er...my home as twilight was coming on. I knocked and went in, as was my custom, realizing too late that I technically shouldn't knock. I stopped myself from calling his name and, instead, stood in the entryway.

  Okay. What would I do if I was just coming home? I would throw all my crap in a designated "crap" location.

  I looked around me and saw no such place in the entryway. Probably best if the door would remain unlocked—didn't want someone peeking in and grabbing it. I walked to the right into the kitchen and looked around. There just wasn't any good location for a handbag. Formal dining room was out. Living room was too comfortable for the first place I would land; I had to work my way into unwinding. It was a process.

  I circled around into a room that wasn't used for much. It had a couple odd looking chairs, a coffee table, and a wall of books. The size of the room was significant. The room had more potential than a few pieces of ugly furniture and a mountain of books. It should be a library/office or something.

  Hmmmm.

  It had a door off the left-side of the entryway so it would be easy to ramble into, leaving coats and handbag and things before wandering to other places in the house. It could serve as a decompression-from-the-day room before I was able to unwind enough to relax. Maybe a cozy chair?

  I didn’t know, but the hostile takeover of William’s house would start with this room.

  I left my handbag on the ground where a cute circular table would eventually go.

  I then wandered out and did a round-about toward the kitchen. Once in there I got a beer and decided I wanted a glass of wine instead.

  Mental note: wine rack. Wine needed its own home. Leaving it in the cupboard was not giving it its needed respect.

  Once I had a glass of wine I headed toward the living room. It was empty. I wasn't a big TV watcher, so I went to find William, who was in the bedroom petting a moping Fred.

  "Hey babe," I said, happy to see him regardless of my living situation, "watch-ya doin'?"

  "Just waiting on you." His look held worry.

  "We don't have to be at Gladis's for two hours or so, right?"

  "No. I meant, in general. Waiting for you to get home. Waiting for you to find me. Waiting for you to be comfortable here."

  "Ah."

  "Adam said you didn't seem to be...sharing my delight."

  I went over and sat heavily on the bed next to William. "He’s a nosey parker."

  Fred
sat up and put his head on my knee. Ginger put her head on my other knee.

  “Ever since Fred got home, Ginger does nothing but copy him. It’s a little irritating,” I said, petting both dogs, despite the awkwardness of Fred’s lampshade.

  “Fred was the pack alpha before he went to you. Ginger is just learning her role; settling in.”

  “When Fred is better Ginger will go back, right?” I didn’t need two big dogs following me around everywhere.

  “No. Ginger will guard the home, Fred will take over guarding you in public. Non-negotiable.”

  And I thought he was overprotective before.

  Le sigh. One battle at a time.

  "Look William...you have to give me some time. You are sharing your home with me. But it is still your home, you know? I don't have anything here. I don't have anything that is mine. I just need to get used to things."

  "But, I gave you free license to decorate. You have money for it that didn’t come from me."

  "I know. I’m not happy about where that money came from; I’m not happy that everyone is trying to manipulate me into being comfortable, but I appreciate the sentiment."

  "So...what do we do now?" he asked quietly.

  "I’ll figure it out, babe. Just give me some time and space, and I’ll figure it out. I love you—you’re not the problem, so don’t get all weird about it. I just need a little time. No biggie.

  William, looking down, shook his head miserably but didn't say anything. He would dwell on this. He would dwell until he knew it was okay. It meant I had to go shopping, which usually was a good thing, but decorating was more Lump’s department. I was more the accessory girl. But still, it would be my new home, and I needed to get into the nesting spirit, sooner rather than later.

  "Okay, time to get ready." I sprang off the bed.

  "It is going to take you two hours to get ready?"

  "Yes. Because I have to find my make-up, my toiletries, my hair products, then find a place to fit them into the bathroom."

  "I don't have that much stuff, Jess."

  "It isn't just about quantity, my good sir, it is about placement. You really have no sense of order when it comes to the home."

  "I give up." William walked out of the room, recovering a little of his good humor at what he would call my silliness. Poor guy, he just didn't get it.

  We met Adam and Lump at Gladis’s house. Gladis was in good spirits as she organized the dinner, which would apparently be extravagant. Any reason to entertain was a good reason in Gladis’s book.

  Lump was teaching Lady a new drink and William went to use the restroom. I was alone with that loose lipped land lubber, Adam.

  I needed to stop reading nautical fiction.

  “Adam, why did you tell William I had doubts?”

  “I didn’t. In so many words.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Jess, look, the fella’s got a right to know. Ain’t me that should be doin’ the tellin’.”

  “I needed a second to figure it out, Adam. Not everything is cut and dry.”

  “Willie is a level-headed guy. Too level-headed sometimes. He would understand. Just tell him.”

  “He doesn’t understand, actually. Some things men just don’t understand. It is because women can be cracked sometimes, just as dudes can be dimwitted. But, we know we are cracked, and if we are keeping it to ourselves and putting on a brave face, that means we are trying to figure shit out. So...let me, Adam. Butt out.”

  “I will help you with anything, except pushing my buddy away. Ain’t never seen him like this. He’s lost his senses over you. I said to him once ‘make it right’, talkin’ ‘bout you. Well, Jessie, make it right.”

  “Adam, I would love to punch you in the mouth right now. Look, you seem to have forgotten a moment ago when I said men were dimwitted. I didn’t mention women in that mix. It is my issue and I was making it right—starting with me. Now I am backpedaling and trying to sooth him while figuring out me. Too much. It is too much for me to handle at once. Just....seriously, Adam, just butt the fuck out. About this at least.”

  I could tell I was making Adam mad. His jaw clenched and his body was tense. William walked in as Adam was about to say something else. Thankfully, Adam kept his trap shut.

  “Let’s eat, boys and girls. The cooks have outdone themselves tonight!” Gladis said merrily, following right behind William.

  The table was set as if royalty were eating. All the best China, best cutlery, high dollar wine and champagne, the works! Better than the high dollar restaurant William loved. Every bite melted in my mouth. Chatter around the table was sporadic as people stopped talking to eat each new course.

  Half-way through I noticed Gladis was hardly touching her plate. “Gladis, aren’t you hungry? It is so delicious!”

  “I have nibbled so often tonight that I’m afraid my appetite has left me.” She laughed. “This is a good time, though, Jessica my dear, to give you something.”

  “No.”

  “It is a house warming gift.”

  “You already gave me one.”

  “Your returned rent wasn’t a gift for you, it was a gift for Willie. It’ll make the transition easier, thus making his life easier. For you, I have something else.”

  I sighed. “I don’t want it, Gladis.” But I didn’t have a choice. Lady was bringing it in.

  It was the painting! It was the painting I’d admired from the day I moved here. It was an abstract piece with exquisite coloring. The eye never wanted to rest when looking at it, taken through the swishes and dips of brush stroke and color. I could just sit and stare at it for hours. And had once, during that three month period when I was trying to forget about William.

  “I’m only going to accept it because I covet it,” I muttered.

  Gladis laughed. “I knew you wouldn’t say no! I’ve seen how much you look at that painting!”

  “Living room?” William asked, resting his hand on my leg.

  I nodded.

  “Anything to replace that weird picture of the gold piglet,” Lump said.

  “I liked that picture,” Adam mumbled.

  “You can have it!” William chortled. “I’ve hated that picture since I first saw it.”

  “Then why did you let the decorator put it up?” Lump was forever mystified that William not only allowed the assortment of crap to exist in his house, but also that he actually paid for it.

  “If I took it down, I would just have to find something to put up in its place.”

  “Why didn’t you just have your mom decorate?” I asked.

  Denise had a subtle and sophisticated touch. The ranch house showed it, with a ranch-type theme, and while I was basically out-to-lunch when I stayed with them in their normal residence, I could see, just in the small bit I walked through, that everything was artful and classy. Each room had a pleasing layout; a person felt the homey vibe while noticing all the fine things around them.

  “The last thing I needed was my mom getting a firmer toe-hold into my stuff. Can you imagine explaining to her why you completely redecorated?” William looked at me.

  “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Precisely. Anything is better than what I have, except for nothing at all. So if you do the bare minimum, it’ll still be much better than current.”

  “But still not quite good enough,” Lump said with a smirk.

  “Speaking of toe-holds,” Gladis said, changing the subject. “I hear Adam was happy to see Jessica go.”

  “Now, that ain’t fair—“ Adam said as Lump and I laughed. “There are things I’ll miss.”

  “Like what?” I doubted it was true. “All you did was glare at me for a week solid.”

  “Well, like the coffee service, for one.”

  “Coffee service?” Lump asked, quirking her eyebrow at me.

  I shrugged—I didn’t know what he was talking about, either.

  “I got out of the shower about when Jess was going in—different sho
wers Willie.” William snorted. “She’d pass me in the kitchen, hair every which way, her eyes more closed than open, and she’d had me a cup of coffee. First day it had cream and sugar, which I drank because I was surprised she weren’t yellin’ at me for somethin’—I didn’t wanna go messin’ that up. Second day it was black, like I like. And she bought good tastin’ coffee, too. Six out of seven days she’d hand me a cup, first thing.”

  “What about the seventh day?” Gladis asked.

  “Betsy got there first. Snooze ya loose on that one. Jess has one cup to hand out and one to drink, then shower. Every day.”

  “I trained her well.” William puffed up and made a shoe of checking his nails.

  “Yeah right. You can’t train a cat,” Adam shot back.

  “Why do you think she made the first day with cream and sugar?”

  “You programmed me well, not trained,” I amended.

  Adam smiled and shook his head. “I guess you can train a cat.”

  “Program Adam; as in robot.”

  “Another thing is the cooking," Adam went on. "She made me dinner every night—“

  “I was bored. He wouldn’t let me go out,” I interjected.

  “Every night a different meal. And plenty to go around. All fresh. I was eatin’ like a king!”

  “I made him clean up,” I moderated.

  “She’s a good cook when she wants to be,” William said, squeezing my knee.