by Mia Ford
“She’s probably one of those freaks that answers ads for dominatrix’s or has wild, random sex with strangers.” He scoffed.
“But if that were true why do you think she met up with you?”
“I don’t know. But I knew that I was going to get a taste of that no matter what. I still might.”
“What do you mean?” Lucas’s mouth suddenly went dry.
“I know where she lives. I might just have to show up there tonight and finish what we started.”
My stomach tightened.
“Yeah? Does she live far from here?”
“Just about half hour away. My buddy said she rented a house somewhere around Brightwood and Burr Oak Lane.
“You don’t want to get yourself in trouble for that.”
“I don’t know. You saw her. I might be willing to do jail time to say I had that.” He chuckled drunkenly.
“Naw. There are dozens of women who would find you attractive. Hundreds even.”
“Yeah? You think?” the drunk rubbed his chin.
“Sure. You don’t ever need to take a woman down the way you’re talking.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll bet if you just hang around here a while you’ll find a lady willing and able. Just be patient.”
“Yeah, but to stand a guy up that way. After getting him all torqued up, promising an evening…” He pulled his mouth down at the corners. “She’s got no right.”
“Well. Think about it, pal. Everyone that works here knows what happened. I know. If anything happens to that woman, who you said is a friend of a friend. Well, you’d never get away with it.”
I waved the bartender over and got him another round. It was my thinking that this guy wouldn't be going anywhere to commit any felonies if he were drunk enough. But all the same, I arranged with the bartender to have him stuffed in a cab and sent home when he was drunk enough.
“But look.” I offered. “I suggest you stay here and let my friend, excuse me.” I called to the bartender who was a huge muscleman with a well-manicured beard and the name Tina tattooed on the knuckles of his left hand. “What is your name?”
“Terry.” The giant said.
“This is my good friend Terry. He’s going to take care of you. When you’re ready to go he’ll have a cab waiting to take you home.”
“Really? No, man. I can’t accept that. It’s too much.”
“Nope. I insist.”
“What? I can’t believe it.” I swear tears came to his eyes. “That’s a beautiful gesture, man. It really is.”
“Terry. Take good care of my friend here.”
I slid off the barstool, shook both Terry and Mr. White Shirt and tie's hands and walked out of the restaurant. I still hadn't eaten but for the first time in a long time, I felt good.
My Ferrari sat out on the curb like a tacky hooker. After I climbed in I decided I wanted to trade it in for something else. Maybe a truck. No. Who was I kidding? There were still some things that would never change. I didn’t have to drive a Ferrari. A Hummer might be more practical. I’d figure that out tomorrow.
Tonight I decided to head off in the direction Mr. White Shirt and tie said was where Tilly lived. It was a one in a million shot I’d find her place. But I couldn’t bear the idea of not checking on her after a drunk threatened to rape her and perhaps do worse.
If Luck was a lady she might not be on speaking terms with me. But as I drove around making a few turns here and there I thought of what Mr. White Shirt and tie had said. It led me to Burr Oak Lane. With just a couple of houses on it, I thought I spotted the silver Lexus in the gravel driveway of a yellow house that looked like a rustic dollhouse.
Flipping off the lights I came to a stop just down the road a piece from the house and cut the engine. I just watched and waited.
Chapter 26 – Tilly
"Spike. I'm never going on another date. That's it for me." I hustled into my house through the back door that led into my kitchen. My cat sat on the circular woven rug that I had placed in front of the stove. He stretched then yawned and then finally slinked up to me to rub on my leg and quickly slip outside. "Fine, ungrateful. Go on and enjoy yourself. Why should I be the only one who has a lousy evening?"
My phone had started ringing in the car but I didn’t answer it. If it were Karl I had nothing to say to him. If it were Sandy, well, I’d have a discussion with her about standards later.
And if it were Lucas?
“It can’t be Lucas. He doesn’t have my phone number.” I threw my purse on the kitchen table, kicked off my heels and stomped up the stairs to my bedroom on the second floor. Slipping into a pair of sweats and my bear claw slippers I washed my face, pulled back my hair with a headband and decided on a glass of wine on the porch.
What was I supposed to do now knowing that Lucas Prine was in my city? That’s right. MY city. I was here first.
I thought of the times Lucas and I were together. Of course, I did. They were amazing and wild but they were also a long time ago. He made it perfectly clear what he thought of me that last time on the phone. This was just another attempt to get me to feel bad for him.
“That’s the thing!” I shouted after my first sip of merlot. “I never felt sorry for him! He is the last guy anyone should feel sorry for.” I paced around my house. “What the hell! Who cares if his stepmother doesn’t like him? Who cares if his father doesn’t love him. It isn’t like he’s related to Leona Helmsley. He’s set up for life. He’s got everything and yet still can find things to complain about. Who does that?”
I know my shadow against the closed curtains had to look like a woman either gone mad or running for office. Those two things were the same thing. But I was more upset about running into Lucas than I was Karl’s bad behavior. That could be chalked up to nerves.
Lucas actually had the nerve to give me some song and dance about how bad things are for him. So bad he had to buy a new Ferrari. Right.
From upstairs I heard my phone go off. Like an idiot, I dashed down to grab it before it went to voicemail. It was Sandy.
“What were you thinking?” I answered.
“What? I didn’t go well?” She sounded genuinely shocked.
“Karl showed up already drunk.”
“No!”
“Yes. Oh, Sandy and he was one of those drunk dirty-talkers asking so what’s your favorite sexual position or do you sleep in the nude or just panties.”
“No! No!” Sandy started laughing and sadly, so did I. “Tilly, I’m so sorry. He obviously isn’t like that around me. I thought he was a decent guy, I really did. Maybe he was nervous?”
“I thought that but come on. It was just a date for drinks I wasn’t reading the results of his colonoscopy.”
Sandy cracked up.
I could hear Brian in the background asking her how my date went.
"He showed up drunk and asked her about her panties," Sandy repeated. As if I weren't humiliated enough Brian's howls of laughter drove home the piteous state I was in.
“So, how did the evening end?”
"I snuck out," I stated proudly.
“You know, I’ve fixed up other friends on dates and you are like my Achilles Heel. My one and only disappointment. My problem child. Why is that?”
“Oh, because you find weirdoes for me and normal people for your other friends. Pretty simple. Either that or your other friends are blind, crippled and crazy and will take whatever they can get.”
“That’s about right.” Sandy giggled.
"But that wasn't all." I sighed. With my phone pinched between my ear and shoulder I pulled down one of my favorite long stem wine glasses and set it on the counter. With all the class of a trailer park queen, I went into my freezer and grabbed two ice cubes. I dropped them in the glass, pulled the wine bottle from the corner of my counter and filled the glass almost all the way to the top.
“I don’t think I can bear it, Tilly.” Sandy joked.
“Are y
ou sitting down?”
“I am now.”
“As I was making my getaway who was walking into Felix’s? I’ll give you one guess.” I took a sip and let the dry wine drown my taste buds before swallowing it.
“Uhm. James Woods?”
“I wish. No. Lucas Prine.”
“Who?” Sandy asked.
“Lucas Prine from high school.”
"That is a name I haven't heard in some time," Sandy said somberly. "Did he see you?"
“Yes, and came right up to me telling me he wanted to talk to me.”
“Talk?”
I rolled my eyes and tried to bite my tongue to keep the strange well of tears that had bubbled up from spilling over my eyelids. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to cry. But I cleared my throat instead.
“That’s what he said. Sandy, why is he here?”
“Did you ask him?”
“No.” I chuckled bitterly. “I gave him a piece of my mind and drove off.”
“Well, that had to feel good.” She encouraged.
“You’d think so. Truthfully, I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. Everything is all tied up in knots.”
“I’m going to go out on a limb here, Tilly and say something you might want to punch me for.”
“What is it?” I shuffled to my front door, pulled it open and stepped out on my porch to sit in the swing and prop my feet up along the railing.
“Do you have feelings for Lucas?”
I nearly choked.
"The only reason I'm asking is that he's the only guy you've ever had any real experience with. I don't think you can count losing your virginity to Todd Fetcho junior year. That was more like an accident than an experience."
“Talk about a name I haven’t heard for some time.” I clicked my tongue.
“Don’t change the subject. Is there anything about Lucas that you do like? Besides the backseats of his cars.”
“Ouch.” I pouted.
“I’m sorry.” Sandy continued. “I’m teasing you. But seriously. What is it about him that pulls you to him?”
“I don’t think anything pulled me to him tonight. I told you I really told him off for good.” I stated proudly.
“I believe you. But you haven’t seen him in a couple years.” Sandy’s voice was soft and I could tell she was trying to be kind. “You could have just walked past him and said nothing. I saw Shelly Pinkowski at a WalMart once. Sure, I would have loved to go up and punch her in the face. But when she waved at me I just looked at her like she was crazy and walked away. It was just as satisfying and yet I kept it classy. Do you see what I mean? So, let me ask you. Did you have to talk to him or did you feel pulled in by something?”
I couldn’t believe it. The words sixty seconds just clanged through my head.
"Lucas asked for sixty seconds to explain," I answered meekly.
“And you gave it to him?”
“Yup.”
“I’m not saying you’re a bad person, Tilly. On the contrary, I think you are a great person. You are the complete opposite of Lucas Prine. I think that might be why there is this connection between the two of you. He’s probably too stupid to realize it. And you…”
“What?”
“You are too stubborn.”
I knew she was right but the words stung.
"So you didn't get to see the triple-nipple?" She asked sadly.
"Thank goodness, no."
Sandy and I chatted a little longer. When we finally hung up my head was swimming. It might have been the wine. It was a fantastic fall evening. The sun was already deep on the horizon, the stars were out and the smell of someone having a bonfire or burning wood in their fireplace filled my nose. I had placed a couple of pumpkins on the porch. Their orange color popped against the white steps and banister.
"I did have feelings for him," I mumbled. "But he made it clear that was not important to him. I wasn't good enough for him back then. He's not good enough for me now."
I finished my glass of wine and just as I stood from my swing and was about to go inside an all too familiar vehicle slowly drove past my house.
“I don’t believe this.” Any compassion or hope that I had suddenly started to feel vanished. I was angry. “Hey!” I shouted as I stomped down the porch steps to the edge of my gravel driveway. The car hit the brakes. The red taillights lit up the street and I heard the gears shift into park. The driver’s side door opened and Lucas stepped out.
“This is just great.” I spat. “What the hell? How did you find my house?”
“Look. I know you’re mad. I don’t blame you. But that guy you left at Felix’s was pretty pissed.”
“So. And how would you know?”
“Well, I went and spoke with him. You see I saw…”
“Funny.” I hissed. “What did you do? Give him some pointers. Tell him what I like and what I don’t like. You’re just a gentleman all around, aren’t you, Lucas.”
“No. You’ve got it all wrong.” He tried to walk up to me but I backed up.
"You see that line there. That is what separates the public property from private property. Cross over onto my private property and I'm calling the cops. Don't think I won't."
“If you’d just listen to me for a minute.”
“I gave you a minute before and I can’t get that back. Your time is up.”
“No, Tilly. This is important.”
“I’ve had it.” I turned around and headed back to my front door with 9-1-1 dialed on my phone.
“Tilly, please.”
"Hi. My name is Telula Grant. I'm at 471 Burr oak Lane. There is a guy here on my property and he will not leave. Yes, I know him. His name is Lucas Prine."
“Tilly, are you kidding me?” Lucas yelled.
"He's trespassing," I reported.
The emergency operator asked me a few other questions. Was I inside or outside my house? Was the man inside or outside my house? Did I think I was in danger?
"I don't think so," I replied honestly. If the operator thought I was wasting her time or overreacting it didn't come out in her voice. She told me a squad car was on the way.
"Ma'am, can you make it to your front door?"
“Yes. I can.”
She instructed me to go inside and wait for police.
“Tilly, this is serious. Fine. You know what? I’m glad you called the police!” Lucas shouted. “That’s exactly who we need right now! I swear, Tilly, you are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met!”
There was that same word Sandy had used to describe me. Before Lucas could say anything else I went to my house and slammed the front door shut, snapping the deadbolt into place.
"I'm inside," I told the operator.
She talked to me while I watched out the front window and had me describe Lucas as best I could. I didn't dare tell her how I really saw him, devastatingly handsome after all these years. He'd grown into a man at least physically. Instead, I gave the operator a generic portrait. About six foot two. One hundred seventy-five pounds. Black hair. Drives a Ferrari.
“Well, that out to be easy to spot.” The operator replied.
Finally, the blue and red lights of the patrol unit arrived. I thanked the operator and watched out the window as Lucas walked right up to the squad car.
“He’s talking to the police.” I hissed. “I don’t believe this. He’s chatting with them.”
Two officers got out of the car and shined their flashlights on Lucas as he handed over his wallet. I know it’s a horrible thing to think but why couldn’t these two guys be a couple of those bad cops that are reported in the news all the time? Why couldn’t they shake him down, rough him up and send him on his way?
Okay, my emotions were getting the best of me. I didn’t want to see that. There was no reason for two perfectly good cops to get their uniforms messed up over a guy like Lucas.
“What the heck is going on? I’m the one who called. I’m the one who n
eeds help. I’ll bet they don’t even come and talk to me. He’ll slip them some money and they’ll forget all about this call. I can see that happening.”
But I was wrong. The second officer headed toward the house. When he knocked on the front door I opened it up and blinked nervously.
“You called about a trespassing?”
"Yes, Officer." I remained calm. This would not be footage played on an episode of COPS where the police arrive and the lady of the house starts screaming about her "common-law" husband who she has a restraining order against even though his name is on the lease.
“No, Officer. I live here alone. I rent this house by myself.”
“Well, we got a very different story from Mr. Prine.”
“Oh, I’ll bet you did.” I folded my arms across my chest.
“Were you at Felix’s restaurant tonight?” The officer suddenly seemed very concerned about where I was and what I was doing earlier tonight.
"Yes, I was. Mr. Prine first approached me there. Then he found out where I lived and….
"Were you there with someone?"
"Yes," I answered quietly. "I was supposed to have a date. It didn't turn out too well so I left."
“What made you leave the restaurant?”