by D. J. Wilson
Drawn by the view, I made my way outside to Josie’s luxurious gardens. They were filled with flowers, shrubs and trees, offering a vast array of textures and colors. “I could stay here all day,” I said aloud.
Candi, a glass of Pink Merlot in hand, found me sitting on a teakwood bench by the Koi pond, one beer down and one to go. “This place is amazing!” Candy gushed. “Josie has thought of every conceivable thing one could ever want or need.”
“I told you, didn’t I? It was worth the drive. Sit with me in the garden and sip your wine. I’m already one up on you and winding down fast. We could camp out right here without a care in the world,” I reflected, all the while trying to erase her gut-wrenching confessions, continuously doing cartwheels in my mind.
Filling up on Josie’s freshly made hot hors d’oeuvres, Candi and I were content to just hang out and rest our weary bones. Well, my old bones and her sore, rather beautiful behind. We’d covered almost 300 miles in 12 hours. That might not sound like a lot, but when you are on a bike it's enough. Driving through so many temperature and elevation extremes in one day is taxing on anyone’s body — especially mine.
“D, come see our room. Josie let me pick from the rooms she had available,” said an excited and certainly pampered Candi.
She’d chosen the Dublin room, which featured heirloom furniture, complimenting an antique four-poster bed. “Excellent choice, my lady,” I declared. “You realize, however, old beds squeak. There will be no hanky-panky tonight. Just sleep.”
“Agreed,” Candi said without protest.
Innocence lost, those were the two words that came to mind as the bed’s plush linens enveloped me. Could all that we had going for us before the events of the last couple of days somehow be reclaimed? This was my question of the day. I tossed it round and round in my head until sleep overcame my restless, weary mind.
Chapter 30
Morning came early, as I eased from the bed just as the beginning sunrise cast a sliver of light, through our east-facing window. Gazing back at the bed, I continually saw in Candi a sleeping princess. A woman, whose countenance and complexion, continually enthralled me. How I wished we could make this fairy tale, twisted and turned by a Jerry Springer episode, work.
Dressing quietly, I picked up my “new” phone and made my way into the gardens, making myself a black and green tea along the way. Two unheard voice mails, both from Gio and three text messages, two from Vic and one from my shadow
Message #1 received yesterday at 6 p.m.:
D, Candice, Gio here. We not go Glacier now. Later, In Canada. Call me.
Message #2 received today at 10 a.m.:
D, You no call. Mile, me in Calgary. See you hotel tomorrow. We OK. U Ok?
Text Message 1:
D, how goes Ur trip? World abuzz, talking about diamonds, the packages, whoz sending and why. Bet I could cash in on u, but gonna have to hurry. Oh, u know anybody named Frank?
Text Message 2:
Call me
And that I did, almost immediately.
Dialing Vic’s number, thankfully on the second ring, she answered. “Good morning, Vic. How is my most beautiful redhead?”
“I’m good, D, especially now that you’ve called and I know you’re okay. Hey, have you seen the news, CNN, FOX, anything lately? Silly me, let me answer that for you…no. I know that how, because you rarely even turn your phone on. All I can say is you must have one sore girl riding behind you.”
“Sore butt maybe, is that what you’re talking about?”
“Nooo, D, you must be wearing that thing of hers out every morning and night for you to never turn on the news. Not that I’m jealous or anything, but you tell her if she needs a break, I’m readily available.”
“Oh, that would go over well, Vic. Is that why you called, you want to trade places?”
“No D, I called to ask you about some guy named Frank that has been spouting off on the news from some Podunk city in Oregon, that he knows who has been sending out all the diamonds. He says he will disclose his name to the highest bidder. I really think he’s just looking for his sixty seconds of fame, that is unless you know him personally?”
Nothing but silence filled the air…
“Oh, My God, you do know him, don’t you? You better fill me in fast, so I can figure out if we need to be proactive, rather than defensive.”
“I can’t believe it,” muttering, stumbling, stuttering trying to find the words. “He was a down on his luck Marine, a hitchhiker too, to beat it all, Vic. I picked him up on the way to Nashville and bought him a plane ticket home with his dog.”
“That’s it? There has to be more to the story than that. I know you; at least I think I do. Now tell me, what else did you do for him, D?”
“I gave him a small package, more than enough to start over. I felt sorry for him. Damn, I can’t win. I give him a thousand bucks for airline tickets and food to get home and a little something extra to help him get back on his feet. And this is how I’m rewarded.”
“D, it must have been the amount you gave him that’s pissed him off, especially, when the word on the street is that people are receiving two to three million dollars worth of diamonds each. Like me, come to think of it.
“How many did you give him, D? Think about it, please.”
“More than 100, I think. Just over a million four, I’m pretty sure about that. For a guy who didn’t have a pot to piss in, I thought it was more than enough.”
“Evidently not, D, You are right about one thing. You can’t win for losing, that is, except when you’re with me. I’ll find out as much as I can and get back with you. By the way, check your phone more often will ya? That is if you can keep it in your pants........... long enough.”
“You are jealous, Vic. I’m impressed, I guess. I’ve noticed that in Candi, too, when I bring your name up, tit for tat.”
“Make that tit for twat, in your case. Me, I’m just horny. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been laid? Too long! Besides, you always want what you can’t have. Right now, I want you … to finish what I started.”
“Thank you Vic. I’ll keep it in mind. Bye.”
Text Message #3:
Volcano now active. Rumblings are real. Suggest U cut trip short. Can dispatch and retrieve. Jim
I replied:
Jim, in Canada, taking the long way back. I know. Didn’t ask. Will ride the long, long way back. Call soon.
Chapter 31
Making my way to the room, I found Candi dressed, applying the last of her makeup.
“What are you doing up so early?” I quizzed, realizing this was not her norm.
Pouting her lips, Candi said, “I couldn’t sleep after you left. I got up, took a bath and I’ve been getting ready, while waiting on you to get back.”
Josie had an amazing breakfast prepared for Candi and I, featuring her specialty, smoked salmon, poached and scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, whipped orange juice and homemade pastries.
“D, these are the most beautiful place settings I’ve ever seen at a B&B,” exclaimed Candi. “Josie is using fine bone china and Waterford crystal water and juice glasses. It’s just like Christmas at home. Mom never brings out the good china, except on holidays.”
“That’s nice, baby. I’ll try not to break one.”
“You’re a true man, D; by the way you don’t appreciate the finer things in life.”
“I appreciate you, Miss Candi, all of you, to be exact. In me, on me, around me, on top, on bottom, on a bike or in a boat, I truly appreciate all of you.”
“Sex is never far from your mind, is it, D?”
“Nope. I’m just living up to what you just said — a true man-slut. That is a compliment, isn’t it?”
“Yep … Nope … Kinda.”
“Changing the subject, I heard from your cousin Gio, twice. Best I can tell, he’s in Calgary somewhere. Bet he beats us to Banff, if we don’t get on the road straight away.”
“But,” asked Candi in a
disappointed voice, “don’t we have time for dessert?”
“Not this morning Candi, I’m sorry. I’ve just had an intense conversation with Vic and I’m just not feeling it, right now.”
“What’s going on now, D? What did Victoria, the other slut, tell you that has you so upset?”
“Oh someone I met and helped out on the road to Sioux City has threatened in the news to hang me out to dry. I don’t know what it is, but I sure can pick ’em,” while staring directly into her beautiful brown eyes, “present company included.”
Feeling very uncomfortable right now, Candi began, as tears cascaded down her cheeks “I’ve confessed my sins, D. I don’t know what more I can do, just tell me and I will do it.”
Silence erupted, as I put my head in my hands and ran my fingers back through my hair.
“I wish I knew, Candi. I’m trying, I really am. And now this, being blindsided by Frank, a guy I barely know. I question my ability to trust anyone, anymore.”
“Just what is this Frank threatening to do to you, D?”
“Vic said, he would out me to the highest bidder.”
“How does he know who you are? What if we can find him first? I can make a call, you know. Just give the word, and I’ll pull the trigger so to speak.” Looking at the white in my eyes, Candi immediately retracted her last statement. “Bad choice of words, D. Let me rephrase that. I’ll have someone apply enough pressure to make him think twice about threatening you.”
“Stop it, Candi. This is my mess to clean up, not yours, nor your families. That is not how I do things. I am not going to start now. Moreover, to answer your first question, he does not know who I am, as best I can remember, but stranger things have happened. Vic is going to delve into it and see what shakes out. Until then, I guess we continue the ride.”
Josie returned, as jovial as ever, bouncing into the breakfast room with box lunches in hand.
“Thanks again for your hospitality, Ms. Josie,” acknowledged Candi. “We’ve had a wonderful stay. All that was lacking was dessert,” looking intently my way.
“Dessert, I can bring you dessert,” plied Josie. “Just wait right here.”
“Never mind, Josie, Candi was addressing me when she said that. You’ve been wonderful, as usual.”
“D, I’m still trying to place you. You look so familiar. It’s your eyes. I remember your eyes. When were you here?”
“It’s not important, really. Best to let sleeping dogs lie. I’ll be back soon enough. We’ll talk then,” I concluded, as I gave her a hug goodbye.
Chapter 32
Walking to the bike, Candi mocked Josie’s previous words. “It’s your eyes, I remember you, because of your eyes. I bet you slept with her, Mr. Slut. You’ve slept with so many women you can’t even remember their names.”
“That would be quite an accomplishment, if it were true. And I do remember their names, most of them anyway,” I answered, while wondering if she really believes what she’s saying. I don’t blame her, I guess.
Calgary is a beautiful city, home to the World Famous Calgary Stampede held every July. This rodeo event, ongoing since the late 1800’s lasts over 10 days and brings a million plus people here from all over the world. Thankfully, it was last month or it would have added four plus hours to our one and a half hour drive to Banff.
“Hey, baby,” I spoke loudly over the engines rumble. “We’ve got some time to kill this morning. Is there anything you’d like to do or see here before we leave?”
“D, you’ve been here before. You tell me. Just what would I like to see or do, besides the obvious that you’ve shot down big time already this morning.”
“Are we horny? I thought it was just men that got uptight and out of sight when they didn’t get laid....... as needed.”
Tapping me firmly on the shoulder, Candi shouted. “Pull over, Jon David.” By the tone of her voice, she was not kidding, so I pulled into the first parking lot I came to.
“Get my BOA out of your pack. If you’re not going to jump my bones and satisfy me, I’ll do it myself.”
“Dang, Candi, did you wake up with my morning erection or did Josie put Spanish fly in your OJ at breakfast?”
“Neither. I was dreaming this morning of making love to you by those waterfalls we hiked to in Glacier. I woke up dripping wet, and rolled over to finish with you what my dream had started. You were gone, as usual. I am not a morning person, as you know by now. But today I was. That Jon David is why I am very frustrated right now. Can you tell?”
“Loud and clear, baby. Loud and clear,” I confirmed, while my mind came to life in the hope that we could bring a happy ending to her unrequited dream, in real time.
Off the bike, and into my pack, I handed Candi her ‘toy.’ “You can use that by yourself to your heart’s content, or if you can give me about thirty minutes, I’ll be glad to assist you in your quest, beside a mountain stream, no less.”
“The romantic poet speaks,” exclaimed Candi, throwing her hands into the air. “I’ve got a better idea. I’ll get me started. If you can find a romantic place to take my matters into your own hands before I’m done, great. Otherwise, if and when you hear me screaming over the engines roar, keep driving.”
Now that we’ve settled that, I made my way down Route 216, before turning west onto Hwy.1A. I remembered this route as a great bike road, filled with twists and turns, and miles of breathtaking scenery.
Making our way through the town of Cochrane, I noticed a cut off, called Star Ranch Road that meandered alongside the Bow River for quite a few miles according to my GPS. Although it was gravel, the road was hardpan, like most of the roads in Canada. As long as they’re dry, they're manageable on a bike, but if they’re wet, you can forget it.
Realizing, even with the engines roar, I hadn’t heard Candi scream, I made the left, and took the cut off to find running water, and or a cascading waterfall to make her early morning dream a reality.
Ten minutes into the bumpy, graveled ride with not a soul in sight, I passed a small cemetery, overlooking the river below. And it had 3 pristine, picnic tables off to the side, nestled under an enormous, shade tree.
Slowing down to a crawl, I asked, “Candi do you have any aversion to making love among the tombstones?”
“You’re kidding right?” asked Candi, followed by, “you’re not kidding, I can tell. I bet you’ve done this before. SLUT!”
“A few times,” I hesitantly confessed. “So far, to the best of my knowledge, it’s never really bothered anyone, living or dead.”
“Hey, if you’re game, I’m in,” stated my semi reluctant rider, whose hands suddenly appeared on my crotch, groping their way around my flaccid, but rising star. Just what else should I call it? (I mean, fortunately it rises pretty regularly, just like the stars do. Jeez.)
I made a walking U-turn and drove down the lush green lane to the wooden, picnic tables, nestled off to the right of the graves.
“What, you’re not going to do me on a tombstone?” asked a seemingly disappointed Candi.
“No, baby, a picnic table. Unzip your chaps, drop your pants and sit up on the table facing the lake. Iowa cornfield attire if you please. Here wrap my jacket around your waist to shield any potential wandering eyes.”
“Hey, where’s my BOA? Don’t forget my BOA.”
“Got it,” I exclaimed, as I retrieved it from her back jean pocket. Sitting on the bench facing her rather moist thong, my lips began to kiss the inside of her thighs, while my hands roamed freely, across the rest of her body.
“What no foreplay?”
“Baby, you’ve had 30 minutes of that on your own. This is the main course,” I continued, as my mouth made its way to the soft skin adorning each side of her sweet spot.
“Oh, that feels wonderful, baby. Don’t stop,” pleaded Candi, as her hands collapsed on my ears.
Using my tongue to push back her thong, my mouth welcomed the scent and taste of this woman who was graciously providing the main entrée.
My mind wandered…
On a picnic table, in a cemetery, by a river, in Canada, Oh Canada … My Canada…
“Oh, baby, I am thankful to be wrapped in this moment with you,” I conveyed between breaths.
Candi, enveloped, equally in this moment too, pulled her thong to the side with her left hand, while her right hand pressed me into her, as deep as my face and my labored breathing would allow. “There, right there, don’t move,” whereas I immediately disobeyed her directive and proceeded to turn her BOA on high and place it in, up and to the right of my tongue. Holding it in place for less than a minute, while my lips and tongue did the rest, was all that was necessary to take this fine specimen of a woman over the top.
Bucking, pushing, twisting, turning, rocked Candi, followed by ‘outdoor’ moans and screams. Ahh …her satisfaction reigned, finally.
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Candi whispered repeatedly.
“You’re welcome, baby. I’m glad you could hang on long enough for me to have my way with you.”
“It’s your turn, D. I want to return the favor.”
“It’s not necessary. This one is all you.”
“But I want to, D. For you.”
“We’re good. I promise. My erection has come and gone through all this excitement of yours. I’m happy that you’re happy,” I exclaimed.
“Can we just sit here for a moment?” asked Candi, basking in her after glow.
“We can sit here as long as you want. That is until you tell me you’re hungry, which usually happens five to 10 minutes after we make love.”
“Shhh … Don’t make fun of me right now. I love the way you make me feel. I love the fact that you knew I was in dire need and took care of it, even when I know for a fact you weren’t anywhere near in the mood.”
“Relationships,” I began, “are all about give and take, Candi. If you’re not willing to give, even when you know how important it is to your partner, and vice versa, the tie that bound, suddenly frays. We’re not perfect, none of us. As long as we put each other first, everything, and I mean everything, will turn out okay. I could never convince, the former love of my life of that. Her excuse was the children and work. Life got in the way of us. I was a ‘Big Boy.’ I just needed to get over it. But I couldn’t get over it. God help me, I tried. Just imagine the severe longing you felt his morning, multiplied times 10, where the only relief you get was to take matters into your own hands. Or even, sadder than that, into the hands of another, when you finally give up, knowing you can't live on empty promises. It shouldn’t have ever come to that. But it did, to the point, that after 25 thoroughly frustrating years, enough was enough.”