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Cleats in Clay

Page 9

by Jackson Cordd


  Bobby started to say something about getting kicked out but clamped his mouth. “Can we at least cuddle first?”

  “Cuddle? Or do ya just mean that as a starting place?”

  Bobby laughed. “Caught me.”

  “Well, call Gertie and set up a flight. We’ll see how much time there is ’til you hafta get to the airport.”

  “Why Gertie?”

  “She has connections with workin’ the B and B. Plus she loves doin’ that kinda stuff.”

  “Shit, the B and B. I’ve still got stuff over there.”

  “Is it anything you need?”

  “Not really, just some clothes and toiletries.”

  “Then don’t worry about that. I can fetch it over here next time I’m in town.” Odis pointed at the wall phone by the kitchen area. “Pound key then one will speed-dial Gertie.”

  Bobby picked up the phone as Odis disappeared into the bathroom. He updated Gertie on the situation, and she promised to call right back with details.

  Odis returned from the bathroom, carrying Bobby’s dirty socks.

  “She’ll call back in a few minutes when she’s done.”

  Odis walked up to Bobby and gave him the socks and a warm kiss. Bobby thought it tasted too much like minty toothpaste but enjoyed the kiss anyway. Odis pulled away. “You know I don’t want ya to go, right?”

  “I know. But you’re right. I’ve been putting this stuff off, and it’s time to deal with it. Once I get it out of the way, we can see where things are….”

  Odis’s eyes hardened. “What do you mean? That sounds like a maybe.”

  “But….” Bobby looked away. “I’m just—after I’m gone a few days, you might decide this was just a fun, inspiring fling.”

  Struggling with a sudden surge of anger, Odis resisted punching him. “You don’t believe me? I’m not some childish flake. I… fuck you.” He spit out the words and turned away, immediately regretting the outburst as he walked into the bedroom area to find the rest of Bobby’s clothes.

  Bobby tried to ignore the sting. “You said yourself that you don’t have a frame of reference. How can—”

  The phone ringing interrupted him. Bobby answered it immediately. “Hello?”

  Odis tidied up the bed area and tried to calm himself as Bobby got his travel details from Gertie.

  Bobby hung up the phone. “Flight in three hours.”

  “That doesn’t leave any time, since ya hafta drive back to Amarillo first.” Odis searched around the bed and gathered up the rest of his dirty clothes as Bobby went into the bathroom to get ready.

  He returned a few minutes later in his clean jeans. “Sorry,” Bobby apologized. “I don’t want to start a fight. I just want to make sure you know what you want.” He sat at the table and pulled on the clean socks.

  “I just hate bein’ called a liar.”

  Bobby put on his shoes and tied them up. “That’s not at all what I said.”

  “Not in so many words, but maybe I’m just bein’ defensive again. I want ya to come back.” Odis went to the kitchen and got a business card from one of the drawers as Bobby pulled on the clean shirt. “This has all my numbers on it,” he said, handing the card to Bobby. “Call me, but keep tryin’ if I don’t answer right away, I might be busy.”

  “Busy? With what?” Bobby asked as he slipped on the jean jacket.

  “I actually feel like working. I might be in the studio awhile.” Odis gave him a tentative hug.

  Bobby squeezed back and kissed his forehead. “All right. I’ll call and keep you updated.” He released Odis, picked up the duffel, then walked out the door before he let himself get distracted by the thought of Odis still wearing nothing but his boxers.

  Odis watched him leave, feeling a heavy pit in his gut. At least Bobby said he would call.

  Chapter 8

  AFTER tidying up the house and checking his supply inventory in the studio, Odis thought about heading to the B and B. This bold new vision he had in his head, if he really wanted to pull it off right, involved the use of some new materials. He could use Gertie’s computer to research and order the necessary supplies—or, more likely, watch over Gertie’s shoulder as she worked the computer—and he could also grab Bobby’s things, since he’d be there anyway.

  It only took a few minutes to open up the garage and untarp his jet-black El Camino, but the car’s refusal to start left him stranded. Upon finding the battery dead, Odis chided himself for not driving the car more often as he hooked up the charger and waited the required two hours for the battery to build up enough juice to work.

  After returning to the house, Odis changed the sheets on the bed but regretted the task as soon as he threw them in the washer. The fabric still held faint traces of Bobby’s aroma. Maybe he should have left them. But that’s just silly, Odis scolded himself. Grown men shouldn’t run around smelling each other. Although that might make sporting events more interesting. He chuckled aloud at the thought.

  Odis dawdled around with other house chores, checking the garage occasionally until the charger’s green light finally came on. He reached into the car and turned the key. The car roared to life after a sputtering cough.

  Heimdalla looked in the car, then back toward the house when Odis opened the car door wider for her. After a studying glance up at Odis, she trotted back to the house.

  “Damn dog. Just stay here, then,” he grumbled at Heim as he crawled into the rumbling El Camino. Odis smiled as he backed the vehicle out of the garage and drove to the gate. Even after all this time, the car’s feel and power still gave him a rush. He’d gotten it brand new back in 1987, paid cash for it from the earnings of his first big art show. He patted the steering wheel as he waited for the gate to open. They just don’t make cars like this anymore.

  GERTIE gazed up with shocked eyes as Odis walked into the B and B. She jumped up off the couch. “Odie?”

  “Hey, sis,” he threw out as he walked toward the office. “Is that computer thingy of yours turned on?”

  “Most likely.” She rushed up behind and followed him into the office. “Everything okay? Did Bobby make his flight?”

  “Oh, sure, he done left hours ago. Just wanted to grab his stuff and check on orderin’ some supplies.” He sat down at the desk and fiddled with the mouse, trying to figure out where that damn cursor doodad was hiding.

  Gertie nudged him aside. “Let me, before you break something. What kind of supplies?” she asked as she opened the web browser and scrolled through the art supply bookmarks folder.

  Odis explained what kind of materials he needed as Gertie hopped from one website to another.

  Gertie checked another site, still not finding what they were looking for. “Why don’t ya head upstairs? Bobby was in the yellow room. You can grab his stuff while I dig around a bit.”

  “Okee.” Odis left, grateful for the exit. All those flashing boxes and things on the computer screen just made his eyes hurt.

  “There’s some paper bags in Granny’s buffet. Left side.”

  “Gotcha,” he said as he walked into the dining room. He grabbed one bag, then decided he might need two. Odis trotted up the stairs.

  Other than a neat pile of used clothes on one of the wing-back chairs, the room hardly looked occupied. As he walked toward the chair, Odis caught a whiff of Bobby’s aroma from the dirty clothes. He put the clothes in one of the bags, scolding himself for being a weirdo as he tried to ignore the wonderful musky scent.

  What was up with him? He’d never really given a second thought to the way any women smelled, unless they were covered with noxious perfumes he wanted to avoid. Why this sudden obsession with Bobby’s scent?

  As he checked the dresser drawers and collected more of Bobby’s items, he thought he heard a new guest arrive downstairs. He checked the nightstand and closet and found a few more things, then searched the bathroom before departing.

  When only partway down the stairs, he heard a booming cop voice.

  “Odie, you
little shit,” Tucker Krickson growled at him from the lower hallway.

  “Hey, Tuck.” Odis avoided his eyes. He always thought Tucker had the aura of a honey badger, especially when he had his ire up. His yellowy-brown hair had much more gray in it now, making him even more ruggedly handsome. That muddy-brown sheriff’s uniform seemed to make Tuck’s eyes look vividly greener. Damn him, Tuck would have to show up in that foxy uniform. Odis held the bags in front of his crotch.

  “What’s this I hear about Bobby Lane?” Tuck growled as Odis walked down the stairs. “He was in town? At yer house? And ya can’t even bother to pick up a fuckin’ phone to call your friend?”

  “Who said we were friends?” Odis teased—mostly. “When was the last time ya even came by my place?” Odis tried not to look directly at him. Tuck sure was aging well, for a man who was older than he was, by a few months, anyway. He watched Tuck dangle the ranger’s hat he held by the brim in front of his waist. The little tassely things on the front band thumped against the lower brim as he fidgeted.

  Tucker clenched his jaw angrily, which deepened the crease lines along his brow and made him look mean, but Odis could see the shadow of hurt in his eyes. “I’ve been busy… and you weren’t ’zackly all warm and friendly last time I popped over.”

  Odis stopped on the second step so he could be at Tucker’s eye level. “Well.” He paused. He couldn’t even remember what it was they’d been fussing over in the first place. Odis frowned and let out a big sigh. “Let’s just wipe the slate, okay?” He tried to smile warmly but was afraid it looked lecherous.

  Tucker nodded. “Agreed.”

  “What’cha doin’ here?”

  “Saw the Camino, bonehead.” Tucker dropped his gaze. “Was on my way over anyway, though,” he added quickly. “Pearl over’t the liquor store said we had a strange football player or somethin’ in town, and I headed over to check. Found out from Gertie it was Bobby Lane.”

  “Oh, yep.”

  “And he was out at your place.” He seemed to scrutinize Odis. “So what’s up, Odie?”

  Odis glanced self-consciously at the office doorway. “Ya still on duty?”

  “Just ’til three. Why?”

  “Then run over to Pearl’s, grab some of that Boston beer, and come out ta the place when ya get done. We can chat about it there.”

  Tucker followed Odis’s gaze to the office door, then looked back with a suspicious smile. “Boston beer? All righty, then. I’ll drop by.” He looked right into Odis’s eyes and grinned briefly. “I think somebody’s been—”

  Gertie came into the hall. “You boys quit yer fussin’. Get in here, Odis. I think I found it but want ya to check it over.” She turned to Tuck. “Ya stayin’, Tucker? Or are ya going back to work?” she hinted.

  Tuck nodded with a slight bow. “On my way out now, Gertie.” He glanced back up at Odis. “And I’ll be there.” He turned and walked out through the foyer.

  Odis watched him through the door’s glass, trying not to stare at his still shapely bubble-butt. Tuck put on his hat, squared it, then moved away to his tan SUV, which was sitting in the parking lot.

  Odis followed his sister into the office and got all the supplies squared away. Since it was an unfamiliar material, he ordered about four times more of it than he anticipated actually needing. That would leave plenty to experiment with if he made mistakes.

  “So what is up with you and Bobby?” Gertie suddenly blindsided him with the question.

  “Who says anything’s up?”

  Gertie gave him a scrutinizing glare. “Don’t try and pull that innocent act on me. That man was under my roof and ate at my table. I can see and hear things, ya know.”

  Odis folded under his sister’s stare. “I don’t know. Honestly, Gertie. I’m just takin’ things one day at a time.” He went to the door before she started grilling him more.

  “Go on, then. Patch things up with Tuck. I’m tired of him hangin’ around here all the time.”

  Odis raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know he was.”

  “Oh yeah, makin’ a regular pest of himself. Always tryin’ to nose into family business. Your business, mostly.”

  “Oh. Okay. I’ll have a chat with him about that, then. Thanks for the help with those orders.”

  “Go on.” Gertie waved him off and turned back to the computer.

  IT WARMED into a nice sunny afternoon, so Odis paced around the outdoor patio area. Bobby hadn’t called yet, but he had to make plane transfers, so it might be a few more hours before Odis heard from him.

  He studied the yard, trying to decide if he should maybe plant some flowers or something to liven up the boring grassy space. He got distracted, though—his thoughts kept drifting to Tuck. Odis hadn’t known he was hanging around the B and B.

  Heim jumped up from her sunning spot and barked once before she ran up the stairs. Must be after three o’clock. Odis went into the house to wait.

  He watched Tucker coming down the stairs carrying a huge paper bag. Being out of uniform didn’t reduce his attractiveness. The tight black denim jeans and green western shirt he now wore seemed to show off his body even more. Odis jogged over and opened the sliding door for him. “Hey, Tuck.”

  Tuck walked in and set the bag on the patio table before adjusting his Texas Rangers baseball cap. “Really, Odie? This iron table is still here? I helped ya drag that off the patio almost four years ago.”

  Odis just shrugged. “What’s in the bag?”

  “The beer ya asked for, bonehead.” He reached in and pulled out four different six-packs of brew. “Ya didn’t say an exact brand, so I got anything that said ‘Boston’ on it.”

  “Oh,” Odis said, picking up the maroon-colored pack. “This is the one. Guess it never hurts to have extra beer around.” He grabbed another of the six-packs and took them to the refrigerator.

  Tuck chuckled as he picked up the other two packs. “Nope, never does.” He looked around the house as he followed Odis to the kitchen. “What in Valhalla, Odie? Ya could’ve at least got another dining table. I don’t know why ya even let Tina clean ya out that way.”

  “It’s just stuff. Wasn’t worth fightin’ her over.” Odis got out the last two cold beers and handed one to Tuck.

  They opened their bottles and stood in the kitchen, trying not to look at each other. Odis finally glanced up and saw the worry on his friend’s face. He motioned toward the dining area. “Let’s sit down.”

  They took seats on opposite sides of the table. Odis looked up at Tuck again. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m a total dick.”

  Tuck just nodded. Then he waited, watching Odis with his examining cop stare.

  “I shouldn’t’a picked a fight like that. I was more mad at myself than you anyway.” Odis took a swig of the bottle. “Quit staring at me like that.”

  “Fine. But what were you angry about? I never did understand that.”

  “Oh, anger’s not quite the right word. I….”

  Following a suspicion, Tuck cocked his head to one side and smiled slightly. “This is tied in to Bobby, isn’t it?” Tuck said, making it sound more like a statement than a question.

  Odis nodded and took another swallow of beer.

  Tuck kept studying him. Then his green eyes suddenly flared. “You little shit! You fucked him.”

  Odis dropped his head, knowing there wasn’t any way to hide his blushing. “Not exactly.”

  “Well then, what exactly did happen?” Tuck peered over at him intently, waiting for the answer.

  “We… um… fooled around a little. Then he slept here.” Odis glanced up, completely surprised by the hurt look he saw in Tucker’s eyes before he pulled on a stoic mask.

  “Shit.” Tuck sighed heavily. “Just fuck it all.”

  “So, go ahead, then. Start in on the fag jokes.”

  Tucker shook his head as he leaned back into his chair and stared at the ceiling. “You know, for such a smart and sensitive guy, you sure can be blind and stupid.”

&
nbsp; “What’cha mean by that?”

  Tuck made a flourish over himself with his hands. “Look at me, you idiot.” Tucker sat up again and caught Odis’s eyes. “Really look at me for a second.”

  Odis studied Tucker. He noticed the cut of his graying honey-brown hair looked a bit stylish for a sheriff. He saw the slight dimple of an ear piercing in his left earlobe. Then he recognized the look of desire in Tucker’s eyes. “Oh. Well, shit.”

  “Yeah.” Tucker nodded when he saw the dawning of Odis’s realization. “You bonehead.”

  “God dammit all.” Odis turned his eyes from Tucker’s gaze. “So that off-and-on thing you had goin’ on in Hutchinson, that was a guy?”

  “Yep, a mechanic at the Walmart.” Tuck watched his face as Odis mentally realigned his world. Odis finally looked back at him.

  Tucker nodded firmly. “So, now tell me the truth, what was all that shit about after Tina left?”

  Odis squirmed. “Well, after she left, it seemed all I could think about was you. And having you hanging around was just too aggravatin’. So I chased you off. It never crossed my mind you might want me too.”

  Tucker finished off his beer. “After you divorced Marsha, I almost came out to you.”

  “Oh?” Odis finished off his own beer.

  “Yeah, that night after we went bowling, and that chick, what was her name?”

  Odis shook his head.

  “Anyway, that chick kept throwing herself at ya every time I was up, and I got so jealous. It was almost enough for me to tell ya.”

  “Oh, that’s the night you wanted to hang around in the parking lot forever and talk. I always thought that was kinda weird.” Odis got up and reached out for Tucker’s empty beer bottle. He headed back to the kitchen.

  “That was the night.”

  Odis checked in the refrigerator. “May still be warm.”

  “I don’t care, get me one anyway.”

  Odis brought back two bottles. “Maybe I should shake it up first, just to check?”

  “Don’t be an ass. Just gimme.” He took the bottle and opened it carefully. It felt cold enough.

 

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