The Perfect Holiday

by Mia Ford

  This morning though, over a decade after our first time, I opened my eyes to find myself cradled in his strong arms with my head on his chest and my leg draped over his crotch. He was watching me, smiling, waiting for me to wake up so we could play catchup again.

  And we did.

  I rode him like a jockey on a stallion in bed, my head still cloudy with sleep and sweet dreams, my cunt still sticky from the night before, then he swiped the breakfast dishes off the kitchen table and fucked me there after we finished our eggs and coffee.

  By the time I showered and left for work, my cunt was sore and my legs were wobbly. It was a wonderful feeling.

  * * *

  “Looks like she’s doing great,” I said as I watched the day-old fold gallop clumsily across the pasture a few steps behind her mother. The fold’s legs were still shaky, but she was having no problem keeping up. Mr. Gibbs was standing next to me with his arms propped on the fence rail smiling like a proud papa.

  “Yep, she just got right up and followed her mama out of the barn,” he said. “Just instinct. They know what to do.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” I said with a happy sigh. “All right then, guess I’d better get to the office. I have a full day on the books. Just thought I’d stop by on the way in to make sure she was doing good.”

  “I’m glad you stopped by,” he said, holding up a crooked finger. “My wife has something for you.”

  “For me?” He kept the finger in the air as he went onto the porch and came back with a basket of ripe tomatoes. “Ellie picked these yesterday out of her garden. I remember last year how much you loved them. These are for you.”

  “Aw, that’s so sweet,” I said as I took the basket. “Tell Ellie I appreciate it.” I gave him a peck on the cheek and got into my truck. I set the basket in the seat and started down the long dirt drive toward the road with him waving in my rearview mirror.

  I was still glowing from my night with Shane. I had left his house less than an hour ago and was already missing him. Maybe I could sneak away at lunch and go see him. He was going to work on the house today with his Uncle Seth.

  Maybe he’d like a fresh tomato sandwich for lunch.

  And maybe a little pussy for dessert.

  CHAPTER 16: Shane

  I was standing in the backyard with Uncle Seth, holding a hand over my eyes to shield it from the scorching midday sun as he pointed out all the bad spots on the roof. Uncle Seth was an old hand at fixing things. Me, I knew a hundred ways to kill a man with my bare hands, but I’d never driven a nail or turned a screw more than a couple of times. I’d been following him around for the better part of an hour, making a mental list in my head as he pointed out things that needed to be repaired—and estimating the cost— before putting the house on the market.

  “That roof must be forty or fifty years old,” he said, pointing out an array of dark spots that ran across the entire back of the house. “That’s where the leaks inside are coming from. That’ll need replacing. Shingles, decking…”

  “What’s that gonna cost?” I asked with a heavy sigh. According to Uncle Seth’s estimate—or what he called his “best guestimate”—the bill was already approaching five-grand. I had ten-grand on the credit card in my wallet and most of my SEAL pay in a savings account, which I preferred not to tap. Anything over ten-grand might have to just come off the sales price, which I didn’t expect to be that much. If I could net enough to pay for the repairs and my trip I’d be a happy SEAL.

  “New roof, probably a thousand for the shingles. You and me can do the work. Probably take a day or two.”

  “I’m not sure how long I can stay and I don’t want to pull you away from the farm for that long,” I said. “How much do you figure the cost of a roofer doing it?”

  He closed one eye to squint at the roof, as if he were counting shingles and squares and doing the math in his head. “You’re probably looking at three to four-grand.”

  “Shit,” I said, rubbing my eyes. I started tallying it up in my head. “Okay. So, four-grand to have a roofer do the roof, three-grand for painting inside and out, two-grand to spruce up the inside. Anything else?”

  “That’s about it,” he said. “You want me to call a roofer and a painter for you? I know some Mexican boys that’ll do you a good job at a reasonable rate, off the books for cash, of course.”

  “Sure, get them out tomorrow if possible. I can get a cash advance off my credit card. I’d like to have it wrapped up and on the market by the weekend.”

  He took off his cowboy hat, tugged the kerchief from the bib of his overalls, and mopped the sweat off his face. His round cheeks were red as a sugar beet. He looked a little like a boil about to pop. He set the hat on his head and pulled the brim low over his eyes to block out the sun.

  “Alright, then. I’ll make some calls on the way home and get them lined up,” he said, stepping into the shade of the only tree in the scruffy backyard. “I can get everything you need for the inside and be back in the morning to help you knock that out.”

  “I appreciate that,” I said. I joined him in the shade as I tugged the sweaty t-shirt over my head and mopped my face with it. I caught him looking at me sideways. He was eyeing my tattoos. “What?”

  He smiled and nodded at the black tribal designs covering my upper arms, shoulders and back. “Your daddy would have hated those tattoos.”

  “Why do you think I got them?” I asked.

  He grinned and swiped the kerchief under his nose. “Was that Doc Bates I saw pulling away when I drove up?” When I didn’t say anything, he bumped me with his elbow and chuckled. “Damned if you don’t move quick.”

  “We’re just friends,” I said, trying to shrug it off, even though I caught myself smiling at the thought of her. “She’s gonna help me find mama’s dog a home.”

  “Good to have friends,” he said as he tucked away the kerchief and adjusted his hat low over his eyes. “Especially friends that look like that.”

  “True.”

  He smiled again and slapped me on the back. “Okay, well, reckon I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I watched him go with mixed emotions. I liked Uncle Seth as much as I’d ever liked anyone. I couldn’t say that I loved him because I really didn’t know him anymore. He was my mother’s brother and I hadn’t seen him in years. He was a good guy and he was helping me out and being well-compensated for his trouble. I’d leave it at that.

  Besides, love was not an emotion I kept ready in my repertoire.

  I hadn’t felt anything even close to love in a very long time.

  Until Annabel appeared at my door…

  * * *

  Juju showed up at the house about half an hour after Uncle Seth left, wearing a big smile and a short skirt and a tight blouse that left very little to the imagination. Her boobs were like big melons packed into a tight bra, weighing heavy on her chest. The blouse was open at the neck, offering a fine view of her round cleavage and the freckles that dotted the top of her chest. I had completely forgotten that she was coming by. When I answered the door, I wasn’t wearing a shirt and my skin was sweaty from working in the backyard.

  “Well, you didn’t have to get dressed up for me,” she said, opening the storm door and coming inside with her perfectly-manicured eyebrows raised. She ran the tip of her finger down my chest and giggled as it came away covered in sweat.

  “Uh, yeah, I was working out back,” I said. I was suddenly as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockers. I peered through the storm door at the street, praying that Annabel was nowhere in sight. I closed the door and turned to find Juju standing in the living room with a long fingernail tapping her chin.

  “Wow, it’s kind of…”

  “Old and worn out?” I asked, coming to stand next to her as she looked around the room.

  “That’s a good way to put it,” she said. “Are you planning on fixing it up or selling it as is?”

  I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “
I’m getting a new roof put on tomorrow. Fresh coat of paint inside and out. Figured I’d replace the worn-out carpet in here and in the bedrooms. Maybe update the kitchen a little.”

  She nodded as I reeled off the list, then gave me a thoughtful frown and slowly shook her head. “I wouldn’t spend a lot.”

  “No?”

  “Honestly, and I hate to tell you this, sweetie, but houses this size in this neighborhood don’t fetch a very high price even after they’ve been updated.” She walked into the kitchen with me at her heels. She stood in the center of the room with her arms folded over her chest and her nose wrinkled, like the place had a bad spell, which I guessed it did. “This is what we call a low-end starter home. Even the lots aren’t worth much anymore. Sell it as is and you might get thirty-thousand. Fixed up you might get close to sixty.”

  I shrugged. “It’s paid for, so that’s fine,” I said. “I was gonna sink eight or nine-grand into it and call it a day.”

  “Oh, well then you’ll be fine,” she said, relieved with the smile returning. “Most folks have an attachment to the home they grew up in. They think it should sell for way more than it’s worth.”

  “I have no attachment to this place,” I said. “I just want to get it sold and be done with it.”

  “Well, I can certainly help you do that,” she said. The leather satchel she’d brought in was on the table. She opened it up and took out a notebook. “Why don’t you show me around and tell me what’s being fixed and what’s not, then I can look at comps in the area and give you a better idea of what you can expect.”

  “Okay, uh, you wanna start outside?”

  “No,” she said, walking slowly to the door that led to the hallway. She glanced back at me and made a face I recognized from some time in the past. “Let’s start in the bedroom.”

  CHAPTER 17: Annabel

  The morning flew by. After getting to the office, I quickly put on a fresh set of scrubs and went downstairs to start my day. I had a full schedule and things got so busy I completely lost track of time. Before I knew it, it was lunch time. My next appointment wasn’t until one o’clock.

  “Wendy, I’m going out to lunch,” I said, stopping at the desk with my keys in hand. “I’ll be back by one.”

  “Are you going to lunch with that hot guy with the tattoos and little white dog?” she asked. “He’s such a hunk.”

  “Don’t be so nosy,” I said. I tried to frown at her, but it came out as a dopey smile. “It’s none of your business who I have lunch with.”

  “You’re right,” she said, holding up her hands. “But he is a hunk.”

  I leaned in and wiggled my eyebrows at her. “I know. Now hush up and get back to work. I’ll see you in an hour.”

  * * *

  I saw the black Acura SUV parked in front of Shane’s house when I pulled into the drive, but didn’t really pay it much mind until I was walking across the yard with the basket of tomatoes swinging happily in my hand. The magnet on the driver’s door caught my eye. I recognized the ReMax logo and the photograph of the agent. Juju Wheeler. Smiling. Eyes sparkling. Promising to sell your home in thirty days or less. I froze in my tracks for a moment, then stepped across the porch and pulled open the storm door. I probably should have knocked, but something told me that I would be interrupting something if I did. I put my hand on the knob and gave it a twist. The knob turned. The door opened. I took a deep breath and stepped inside.

  I stood inside the door for a moment, listening. I could hear voices. Juju giggling, Biscuit barking. Shane was saying something I couldn’t make out. He sounded… excited. I stepped quietly through the living room and peered around the kitchen door. That’s when I saw them. That’s when the déjà vu hit. Shane was pushed back against the sink with his hands clutching Juju’s arms. Juju was pressed against him, tugging open his belt, her mouth on his, her red lipstick smeared on his chin. Biscuit was on her hind legs, dancing, turning circles, barking, demanding her share of her master’s attention.

  I didn’t realize that I dropped the basket of tomatoes until I heard them hit the floor.

  Biscuit spun around and barked.

  Shane’s head jerked my way. He roughly pushed her back and spat out the words. “Shit! Annabel!”

  Juju gave me a dreamy look and smiled. “Well, hey there, Doc. What are you doing here?”

  “I…” My eyes filled with tears. My mouth was suddenly dry. I tried to speak but no words came out.

  “Annabel, wait,” Shane said, taking a step toward me. “It’s not what you think.”

  I put up my hands to stop him. My head shook from side to side. I gritted my teeth and glared at him through my tears. “Don’t. Don’t touch me. Don’t even talk to me.”

  “But…”

  “I’m leaving,” I said, taking a step back, crushing a tomato beneath my shoe. “This time it’s really over, Shane. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

  I turned and ran from the house. I heard Shane yell something behind me, but I kept going. I had been a fool to think that I could rewrite the past. I was a fool to trust Shane Mavic. He was no different from every other man on the planet. He thought with his cock instead of his head or his heart.

  Fool me once, shame on you.

  Fool me twice, shame on me.

  I was done giving Shane Mavic chances.

  I had no intention of ever seeing him again.

  CHAPTER 18: Shane

  I stood in the front doorway watching Annabel drive away. I could feel Juju standing behind me. I could hear her breathing. She wanted to say something, but knew there was nothing she could say. I wanted to turn around and strangle her, but again, this was not her fault, at least not entirely.

  She had no idea I had feelings for Annabel or that Annabel had feelings for me.

  I should have said something right off the bat, but I didn’t have the chance.

  Juju wasn’t the problem.

  I was the problem.

  Me and no one else.

  I was the one who left people hurt and lives destroyed.

  I was like a Texas tornado, plowing through lives and leaving nothing but destruction in my wake.

  The best thing I could do for Annabel was to get the fuck out of town before I hurt her anymore. That’s what I did. I hurt those I loved the most and then ran away.

  That’s what I’d done to Annabel.

  And that’s what I’d done to my little brother, Kenny.

  * * *

  Saturday, August 23, 2006. I was eighteen-years-old. Angry. Alone. Lost. Drowning in self-pity and wallowing in sorrow. I had just graduated from high school (barely) and was looking to find work on an oil rig because I wasn’t smart or rich enough to go to college. In the meantime, I was working as a busboy at the Red Lobster just to earn gas money.

  Annabel had not talked to me in months.

  The violence from my old man had gotten worse. It seemed now that I was a couple of inches taller than him and had some meat on my bones he thought he had to hit me harder and more often to prove that he was still in charge. Sometimes I thought about defending myself, I was certainly capable of it now, but I was afraid that once he realized he couldn’t bully me anymore he would turn his wrath on Kenny. I couldn’t let that happen. Kenny was a defenseless little kid. He was the only reason I was staying in Gulf Breeze. I had to protect him.

  Kenny was twelve, about to start sixth grade. He needed school supplies for the semester that would start that Monday. Naturally, my mother, who rarely had a thought my old man didn’t put in her head, had forgotten all about the supplies. She didn’t have money and told Kenny he’d have to borrow supplies from his friends.

  Kenny was upset.

  I was pissed off.

  I grabbed the keys to her old Chrysler and told Kenny to come on. I would drive him to Wal-Mart and buy his supplies out of my tip money. My old man was out drinking somewhere and mom was locked in her room. We didn’t bother to tell her we were leaving because I figured she woul
dn’t care.

  I’ll never forget the big smile on Kenny’s face as we drove away from the house. He was so grateful he had a big brother to look out for him. He looked up to me. I was his hero. I was the one constant that he could rely on.

  An hour later Kenny was dead.

  And I knew my old man would be out for blood.

  * * *

  We went to Wal-Mart and got Kenny’s school supplies. He was so happy because they had a Star Wars notebook he wanted. I spent almost my entire take-home pay for the week. I didn’t mind. His smile was worth every penny. I would give my last cent now to see his smile just one more time.

  It had started to rain as we pulled out onto the highway.

  The old Chrysler’s windshield wipers were old.

  They barely cleaned the rain off the windshield.

  I slowed down because it was hard to see.

  It was Saturday evening and the traffic was heavy.

  I turned off the highway onto Main, then onto Dilbeck Street.

  We were a block away from home.

  I stopped at the four-way stop and looked both ways.

  I pressed the gas pedal and drove slowly into the intersection.

  I never saw the drunk guy in the pickup truck that T-boned us on Kenny’s side.