by Carver Pike
It was the locket that caught her attention. She’d seen it before. Again, she closed her eyes and was hit with a memory.
“Mama, I think if the wicked witch had a necklace like this, the mirror mirror would have to tell her she was the most beautifullest of all.”
She was right around the same age as the last memory. Her mother was getting dressed to her side while she played in front of the mirror, holding the locket up to her neck.
“Be careful with that, Dawn Doll,” her mother said. “That was my mom’s necklace before me and her mom’s before her and…”
“And hers before that,” little Dawn added. “Ok, Mama. I’ll be careful.”
“What do you think?” her mother asked as she turned to show her the stunning blue dress she’d put on.
“Wow!” Dawn shouted. “Mama, you look beeeeeeautiful! Are you going out with Papa?”
“Shh, Dawn Doll,” Mama said as she squatted down to her eye level. “Papa’s at the bar with his friends. As usual.”
With the “as usual” she rolled her eyes. Dawn could sense her mother’s frustration.
“Mommy has other plans tonight,” she said as she stood and adjusted her hair in the mirror. “And Mommy needs that if I’m going to look extra special.”
“Here you go,” Dawn said with a big smile as she held the locket out for her mom.
Mama clasped the locket around her neck and ushered Dawn out of the room.
“Now, off to your room,” Mama said. “You know where little girls go while Mommy is away.”
Dawn was left with the tail end of the memory and a hand full of her mother’s hand-me-down jewelry. Holding on to the old heirloom made her feel a connection to her mother she’d never felt before. She hadn’t been a bad woman. Her father hadn’t been there for her and she’d had to go on living her own life. With someone else it seemed.
Just like Dawn.
She did her best to suppress the thoughts of her ex-husband with the other woman. She’d gone through all the post-divorce stages. First, there was so much anger. She hated the son of a bitch and hated the young tramp he’d left her for even more. Then she was burdened with the sadness, that horrific heaviness of pure hurt and pain. She couldn’t understand how he’d been able to do that to her. How could you love someone with all your heart and then walk away, clutching their heart in your hands? Next was the guilt. What had she done to cause all of it? How could she have been a better wife?
She was sure her mom had gone through the same gut wrenching feelings. The memory made her wonder about her mother’s pain after they’d left. How bad she must have felt never seeing her husband or her daughters again.
Dawn didn’t miss her ex-husband much anymore. No, that was a lie. She did sometimes. It was the stupid stuff that bothered her most. Like cooking dinner alone. Their time spent preparing supper was a good memory she kept concealed. Cuddling up on the couch and watching movies. That was another one. The sex was the one that haunted her most.
Patrick had a large dick and knew how to use it. Missionary was the preferred position since most of the time he was drunk and only wanted to come, but that was okay with her. As long as he kept fucking her. The whiskey dick was the one thing she liked about his drinking. He could stay hard for a long time.
She’d been with Patrick so long that she hadn’t realized what she’d been missing when it came to foreplay. It wasn’t until she discovered erotica novels that she learned how deep passion could go. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d gotten really wet before fucking her ex-husband. Yet, simply reading the right words in a good sex scene could have her soaked in her panties and fingering herself like a madwoman.
How had she gone from thoughts of her mother to thoughts of her father to thoughts of Patrick to thoughts of masturbating? And how had she started to get wet right there at the kitchen table?
Yes, she was sure she’d go to the bar tonight and at least see what kind of pond she’d be fishing in for the next few years. She couldn’t wait for Daisy to arrive. Her sister was taking way too long to meet her out here at the ranch. Dawn thought she might have a chance at hooking up with an ex-high school football star or something. Some guy in his early twenties who still had plenty of stamina. Maybe she’d be able to get him to pull off some of the tricks she’d read about in her naughty books.
First, she’d head into town to pick up some groceries and see what other kinds of shopping Greenview had available.
***
Dawn had driven through the town center several times in the past, but other than a quick stop at the grocery store, she had never parked her car, gotten out, and hoofed it. This time she did and within thirty minutes she was right back in the car, fastening her seat belt, and heading home.
A rundown of the strip mall to either side consisted of an ice cream parlor, two thrift stores, a convenience store, two clothing shops, one baby and maternity store, a barber, a pharmacist, a shoe store, a butcher, a baker, and a candlestick maker. No, the last one wasn’t there, but you get the point. It was all mom and pop run stores.
Dawn imagined a Walmart blowing through town and setting up somewhere on the outskirts to rip the townsfolk to pieces like in this one documentary she saw. She did pass two bars and realized she had quite the decision to make. Should she go to Stools and Shooters or Gill’s Tavern?
Who puts the word stools in their business name? Remind me not to eat the peanuts.
According to the one young(ish) woman she found working at a book store/cell phone repair/coffee shop, neither of the bars was as good as the scene at Pinned Down, the local bowling alley.
Pinned Down. Now that sounds like the title to one of my erotic novellas. A hot bowling alley employee has to keep helping a young single woman who can’t seem to figure out the fucking score keeping computer thingamajig. God, I hate those things. If anyone can fuck up scorekeeping in bowling, it is definitely me.
Yes, bowling it will be. At least bowlers are kind of like athletes, right? They’re used to putting fingers in holes and they have massive forearms and…yeah, I’m going bowling.
Dawn drove home, slightly excited about the opportunity to get at least partially hammered and a lot more excited about the potential for meeting a young stud. The sun would be going down soon and she needed to prepare. Thursday night might even be ladies night, she hoped, counting on the fact that the small town would mirror the habits of the big city. Back where she’d lived for the past ten years, Thursday was always ladies night.
On her way into her house, she snatched up the wooden box from the kitchen table, and took it up to her bedroom for safekeeping. She hadn’t decided whether or not she should let her sister in on the secret. She’d surely insist on taking the box to a pawn shop and throwing a kegger there at the ranch.
A small kegger could be nice.
She wondered how much money was in the box. It looked like it would garner a lot but nowadays one never knew.
***
Freshly showered and in the sexiest dress she could fine, Dawn put the finishing touches on her face before stepping back from the mirror and checking herself out. Her fiery hair was long and tumbled down her shoulders. Patrick had always complimented her on her hair. That and her ass.
The body length mirror showed her not-so-slim body looking full and beautiful in the black dress. Her tits were nice and soft, real. She’d always wanted to firm them up and thought the jewelry in the box might be enough to allow her that one luxury. Her confidence was high and the tumbler of whiskey she’d downed right out of the shower kicked it up a notch.
Something was missing.
She looked at the antique box on the table and realized she needed some jewelry to jazz up her attire. Nothing in there would make sense unless the bowling alley was holding a Little House on the Prairie themed party.
Then she spied the locket. It seemed to shimmer in the faint lamp light, calling her name, begging her to put it on. It was beautiful and if anything in the box w
ould work, the locket was it. She flipped her hair to one side to expose her neck and then wrapped the dainty silver chain around and clamped the clasp in place.
It looked amazing.
The wind howled outside the window and it almost sounded like a whistle.
“Why thank you,” she joked.
She lifted the locket in her fingers and worked to pry it open. She expected to see a picture of her or Daisy, or maybe a picture of her mom, or even her grandmother, but instead she found dust of some sort. Or was it ash?
“Ok, that’s kind of weird,” she said aloud. “And what’s weirder is you’re talking to yourself, Dawn.”
She was tempted to dip a finger in to see if it was thick like dirt or would smoosh against her finger like ash. If it was ash, would it be the remains of one of her ancestors? Maybe it was dirt placed in it from the first family who’d farmed the land. She liked that thought. It seemed a lot less disgusting than having one of her ancestors dangling in front of her chest.
She was halfway down the stairs when she heard the knock on the door.
KNOCK…KNOCK.
Who’d be visiting at this hour? She hoped maybe it was Daisy but she wasn’t expecting her sister for a couple more days and Daisy never arrived early…never.
KNOCK…KNOCK…KNOCK KNOCK.
The pattern from the night before. Two heavy knocks and then two in rapid succession.
“Hello?” she called out. “Can I help you?”
No answer.
Goosebumps rose on her skin as she thought about the figure she’d seen standing at the edge of the cornfield, the one who she’d seen leaving from the front of her house, the one who’d left her the box.
She fingered the locket on her neck and approached the door.
“Hello?”
Silence.
“Hello?” she said again. “Why are you doing this?”
“I’m sorry,” came a voice from the other side of the door. “I didn’t mean to startle you. That wasn’t my intention at all.”
A human voice. A pleasant human voice. It was a man. She peered through the peep hole to see the distorted face of a man. She couldn’t distinguish his features other than the fact that he had wavy black hair.
“What can I do for you?” she asked.
“I wanted to stop by and say hello. My name’s Anders and I’ve been kind of like a caretaker for the property. I used to tidy the place up a bit for the lady of the house and then did my best to come around after her passing but…but I felt oddly out of place. Like I shouldn’t be here uninvited.”
The sadness in his voice. He’d known her mother. Later she’d think back on the moment and how stupid it was to open the door. Anything could have happened, but nothing did. She unlatched the door and swung it open to see what can only be described as a beautiful man. He was a cartoon prince in living form.
Anders’ head was covered in short curls, more like dark wisps of hair, untidy tangles that gave him a slightly disheveled appearance but somehow looked perfectly planned. His face too. His jaw was square and strong, slightly stubbled, and his lips were a dark enough pink to make him look as if he might be wearing lipstick. Yet, she knew from his manly stature that he’d never allow it. He looked…uniquely perfect, like he’d sat down in an actor’s prep chair moments before and a makeup team had its way with him.
He wore dark brown slacks and a plaid shirt, like any farmhand she’d ever imagined. Not that she’d ever imagined a farmhand. Had she read about a farmhand in any of her books? She’d have to add that to her Amazon search terms.
Anders held out a hand to shake and when Dawn reached for it, she was shocked at how tiny and dainty her little digits looked wrapped up in his giant paw. His fingers were massive. His hands were callused. He was definitely a worker bee.
“Hi, I’m Dawn.”
“Dawn is always my favorite thing around here.”
Oh nicely handled.
“I’m more of a dusk kinda girl,” she joked.
He smiled even though it was clear to them both that she hadn’t been funny. It was more of an awkward silliness that wouldn’t pass until he stepped off her porch. Or into her house. Either way, after this casual encounter, she’d definitely be getting off tonight. Suddenly her plan to go bowling didn’t seem so important.
“I’m sorry if I frightened you,” he said. “I’m sure you weren’t expecting any guests at this late hour.”
“At any hour,” she agreed. “I don’t have any friends around here.”
“You will,” he said. “I can’t imagine many people wanting to stay too far away.”
He was flirting with her. She blushed and looked down at her feet. He reached out with a hand, touched her chin, and raised up her head.
“Don’t hide your smile,” he said. “That’s unbearable.”
He didn’t speak like any man she’d ever encountered. His voice held such confidence, such suaveness, and such an adorableness. She knew she should be put off by his forwardness, but she found it refreshing. It’s not like he was trying out a bag full of cheesy pickup lines. These words were all his.
“I…” she started but couldn’t attach any other words to the end of her sentence.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m full of apologies tonight. I didn’t come here to flirt and make you uncomfortable.”
“Or to scare me,” she reminded him.
He chuckled and Dawn felt her cheeks redden.
God, he’s gorgeous.
“Or to scare you,” he agreed. “I honestly stopped by to see if you got the box I left for you on your porch last night.”
“That was you last night?” she asked.
“Yes, I found that box out in the barn when I stopped by to try and fix your tractor…”
“My mom’s tractor.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were related. I should have known as much. You have her smile.”
“Thank you.”
She said thank you but she wasn’t a hundred percent sure that was meant to be a compliment. She couldn’t remember her mother’s smile. Maybe she’d had a toothless grin. The thought almost made her laugh.
“Well, I found that box when I was in the barn fixing your mom’s tractor. I figured its contents would be important to you. They seemed, well, important. I wanted to hand it to you but I had a feeling I’d scared you so I thought it would be best to leave it in front of your door.”
“Like a really creepy late night UPS delivery,” she said.
His blank stare told her he didn’t know what she was talking about. Surely they had UPS in these parts.
“I just didn’t want to hold onto the box long,” he said. “It’s got some expensive looking stuff in it and I’m not a thief so I didn’t want someone to come pounding on my door. The friends I live with aren’t as nice as I am so having them find it wouldn’t be a good idea either. So I dropped it off and now here I am, babbling incoherently. I should go. It was nice to meet you, Dawn.”
Noooooo! Don’t go!
Anders nodded and then turned to walk away.
“Anders,” she said. “Are you thirsty? Would you like to come in for a drink?”
He stopped and turned back to her, his hands in his pockets, and leaned up on the tips of his toes before rocking backward on his heels.
“I would love that, actually.”
With that, she stepped aside and held the door open for him to enter. As he did, she caught a whiff of his cologne and thought it smelled like fall, something like pumpkin spice and maybe pine trees. Whatever it was, she wished she could bottle it up and give it out as Christmas gifts. It was captivating.
***
The start of their conversation was strange, awkwardly silent as it seemed Anders was trying too hard to remain polite. He seemed like a good ol’ boy, one of the country folk who had been raised to respect women and never do anything unsavory on a first date. Was this a date though? Not really.
As she poured them both a
tumbler of whiskey, she thought it could quite possibly turn into one.
“So you live around here,” she said. “Like are we neighbors or did you drive over?”
“I walked,” he replied, his answer short like most of them.
“Was it a long walk?”
“Not really.”
“So…you used to work for my mom. Did you know her well?”
“I guess as well as anyone did. She kept to herself. She seemed to like being alone.”