The Naughty Box (9 books in 1 box set)

by Davis, SJ

  Jake closed his eyes. The silence was complete, broken only by the plaintive cry of a Loon. “Aren’t you lonely up here all by yourself?” he asked, finally.

  Lena shook her head. “I’m not by myself. I’ve got Zephyr.”

  He sighed. “Listen Lena…you’ve got to be lonely. Come into town and stay at your dad’s place for a couple of days. I’ve got some time off and Pam won’t mind. We’ll go waterskiing and fishing. I’ll take you to The Swan for drinks and dinner. Please? I worry about you up here all alone.”

  Lena’s smile was fleeting. “You’re worried, or Alex is worried? I bought this place with the intention of spending the summer here. I refuse to go running into town just because my husband backed out of a visit. I’m not lonely, Jake. Really.”

  She said it with conviction, but could tell from his expression that he wasn’t convinced. Forty yards offshore, a fish jumped sending ripples across the water. She stood, brushing dust from her shorts.

  “Now that you’ve broken the bad news are you ready for a burger?”

  Jake smiled. “Sure thing, boss.”

  Lena handed him another beer, opened the last one for herself, and gathered up the empties. “Cheers,” she said, touching her can to his. “Here’s to friends.”

  “To friends,” he echoed, following her across the meadow.

  Chapter 21

  The next morning, Lena dressed for her daily walk and paddled across to Odin’s camp at the usual time. She called out as she neared his dock, but there was no answer. “Damn,” she muttered. She began to paddle home, then changed her mind. It was her first time on his side of the pond and she was curious. Pulling the kayak to shore, she walked across the small yard to the cabin.

  On the outside, Odin’s camp was similar to hers. Built of logs, it was fronted with a porch that faced the lake. A large shed or bunkhouse sat within a stone’s throw of the main building at the edge of the woods and the outhouse was the same distance away on the other side. She walked around the cabin to the back. His parking area was a squared-off piece of dirt at the end of a one-lane driveway that disappeared into the woods.

  That’s where the similarities ended. While her place faced southwest and was shaded until noon, his, facing east, received the full force of the morning sun, dappled only by the leaves of the trees that towered overhead. Her cabin looked out on the pond and the steep rise of Foss Mountain, while his view was of her meadow with the level ridge of trees beyond it. Both vistas were stunning, she thought, but she liked hers better.

  She took the three stairs to his front porch and peeked in the windows. Inside, the main room was neat and tidy. Unlike her place, there was no jacket draped on the kitchen chair, no glass on the countertop, and no book on the coffee table. Nor was there any evidence of Odin’s artwork. She tried the knob; it twisted beneath her hand. Hesitating, she weighed the ethics of entering. It’s not really trespassing, she told herself finally; she was only going inside to leave a note. Pushing the door fully open, she stepped over the threshold, into her neighbor’s domain.

  Although the building was roughly the same size as her camp, inside, it was laid out differently. The kitchen and living area sprawled together in similar fashion, but only half of the cabin had a second floor. The wall that housed the fireplace stretched to a cathedral ceiling with two skylights overhead, giving it a light and airy feel. The stairwell, directly before the front door, climbed to a landing with a room to the right; beneath it, were the doors to two more rooms. Bedrooms, she assumed. A third, off the back wall, was labeled “Bathroom”.

  Odin’s furnishings were typical camp-style: a dining table and chairs of twisted wood stained deep gold, comfortable couch and armchair, chandelier of antlers and candles, and a deer’s head mounted on the wall.

  Lena searched the kitchen for a pen and paper. She finally found both in the drawer of the coffee table. Taking them into her hands, she frowned at the open page. Upon it, Odin had sketched a woman in shackles with a crown of holly on her brow. She was naked, her face lifted to the sky and eyes closed. Before her parted legs, a creature with the body of a goat and the head of a man stood upright, his penis engorged to massive proportions.

  Lena stared at the sketch for a long moment before it hit her; the face of the beast was Odin’s and the woman in the sketch was a close replica of herself. He’d endowed her with perfect breasts and an angelic face. She smiled and glanced over her shoulder; reassuring herself she was alone before turning back to the sketch, running a finger down the length of the man-goat’s body. If the size of his member was any indication of the size of Odin’s... Lena’s heart quickened as she bit her lower lip. Guiltily, she turned the page and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper, scribbling her invitation. Please come for dinner tonight. I hope you like steak. L. Finished, she replaced the pad and pen and left his home, pulling the door securely closed behind her.

  Back at her camp, she switched her Tevas for Nikes and whistled for Zephyr. Her slow jog along the access road quickly became a run. The long walks with Odin had strengthened her legs and the miles flew by beneath her feet: twenty minutes down the gravel road, and twenty minutes back. The five mile run did wonders to chase away the funk she’d been in since Jake had broken Alex’s news. Flopping down on the grass in front of her cabin, she searched the opposite side of the pond for indications of Odin without luck. There was no sign that he’d returned.

  After a quick swim, she headed down the mountain to check her messages. Her phone beeped as she pulled into Blanchard. She stopped and drummed her fingers against the dashboard as her voice mail downloaded. The first was from Alex, apologizing for not making the trip. The second was from Jake, relaying the first. The third was from her neighbor back in Stamford. She frowned as she listened to the message. It was the only one she hadn’t expected.

  “Hello Mrs. Walker, this is Gerry Ubold from across the street. Listen, I hate to complain, but could you please ask that guest of yours not to block the fire hydrant in front of my house? I had three cops stop by my place yesterday asking me to move my car.” He sighed heavily on his end of the line. “I really hope you get this message before they come by again. It’s a real nuisance. Thanks.”

  Frowning, Lena hit speed-dial and waited for Alex to pick up. The phone went to voice mail so she hung up and tried again. This time, Alex answered on the third ring.

  “Hi honey.”

  Lena checked the time. Ten after nine and Alex sounded like she’d woken him from a sound sleep. An early riser, it was unlike him to be in bed at this hour. “Hi,” she said. “What’s up?”

  “Didn’t you get my message?”

  “Yes. Jake came by to tell me yesterday afternoon. I’m sorry you can’t make it up this weekend. I’m disappointed.”

  “Me, too, but some things can’t be helped.”

  “Like book signings?”

  “Exactly,” he said.

  Lena sighed. “Oh well, there’s always next weekend.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. I’m glad you understand. What’s going on up there? Any news from Annie?”

  “None. I’ve got to go into Greenville and have another talk with Stinky Spaulding. Somebody’s got to know something after all this time.”

  “What else is going on?” Alex asked. “Have you seen much of Jake and Pam?”

  “Jake came up to help me with the new composting toilet and a sun shower yesterday…other than that, no.”

  “Poor baby. You must be bored to tears.”

  “Not really. Zephyr and I take a long walk every morning and then I do my chores. In the afternoon I’ve been kayaking a bit.”

  “It sounds like you’ve taken to your life of leisure,” he said.

  Lena frowned as she switched the phone to her other ear. “I think that’s a little unfair, Alex. I’ve worked hard these past few years and you said you’re okay with it…you haven’t changed your mind, have you?”

  “No, no,” Alex said quickly. “I’m sorry. You pu
t in your time and you’ve certainly worked hard on the camp. You deserve to relax. Anything else going on up there?”

  “Not in my world,” she said. “Oh, except for this weird phone call I just got from Mr. Ubold. You haven’t noticed a car parked in front of his house, have you?”

  “Wait a minute, I’ll look.” There was a brief silence. “Yep, there’s a car there, all right. Why?”

  “He left a message on my cell. He asked me to have our houseguest move it from in front of the fire hydrant.”

  “Houseguest?” Alex repeated. “What houseguest?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “That’s what he said on my voice mail.”

  “There is no houseguest, Lena. Not at our place, anyway.”

  Lena sighed. “That cranky old nutcase. I’ll call him back and tell him to check with the other neighbors.”

  “No, don’t bother,” Alex said. “He’s out in front right now. I’ll go have a word with him and straighten the whole thing out.”

  Lena shifted the phone and put the Jeep into gear. “Thanks, honey. I’ll see you next weekend, right?”

  “Right,” Alex said. “Come hell or high water.”

  “Love you, Alex. Bye.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Phone call completed, she continued on to Greenville. Picking over the shelves at the Indian Hill Market, Lena filled her cart quickly. In the refrigerated section, the steaks were small; she asked the butcher for two large rib eyes and waited while he cut them. After adding two bottles of Pinot Noir and another of Chardonnay to her cart, she checked out. Standing at the top of the hill outside the store, she debated stopping by Jane Janson’s house, then thought the better of it. Jane would never let her go without an extended conversation and she wasn’t feeling particularly chatty. Loaded down with her bags of groceries, she returned home instead.

  As she pushed the Jeep’s door open, she was met with opera. Lena smiled. Madame Butterfly was playing across the pond. She paused for a moment to listen to Cio-Cio San’s lament, her notes high and clear and infinitely sad. In the background, Odin’s coyote howled along.

  ***

  As the time for dinner approached, Lena’s nerves kicked in. She tried on one dress and exchanged it for another; took her hair down, brushed it and re-braided it. It’s not a date, she reminded herself as she slipped back into her shorts and t-shirt.

  So why did it feel like one?

  Finally, armed with a cold beer for courage, she sat on the porch and waited. At two minutes of six, she saw Odin step onto his dock. Her heart quickened as his kayak slipped across the open water. She finished her beer and wiped her shaking hands on her thighs. “Not a date,” she said again. Gripping the empty can tightly she took a deep breath and crossed the meadow to meet him.

  “I see you got my note,” she said as he stepped onshore. “I tried to catch you before you left this morning but you got an early start. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “On the contrary, thank you for the invitation.” Odin smiled as he handed her a bottle of Conch Y Toro. He looked beyond her shoulder and frowned. “Where’s Alex? Stuck in traffic?”

  Lena pushed her hair behind her ear. She’d decided, finally, to wear it loose. “He couldn’t make it after all. I’m afraid it’ll just be you and me tonight.”

  Odin laughed. “I can’t say that I’m sorry… his loss is my gain.”

  Lena turned toward the cabin, bottle in one hand, can in the other. Her heart continued its jackhammer rhythm while she held the door open and gestured him inside. “What would you like to drink?”

  “What have you got?”

  “Wine, beer, rum, gin, scotch, and vodka,” she said, counting off the selections on her fingers. “All the basics. Or most of them, anyway.”

  “A vodka and tonic would be nice, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “Coming right up.” Lena filled two glasses with ice from the freezer and added the booze and soda. She’d already sliced a lemon and lime. Leading him back to the porch, she nodded at a chair. “Have a seat. I need to let the grill heat up before I put on the steaks. It’ll just be a few minutes.”

  “You’re quite the bartender,” he said, taking the drink from her hands. “I’m impressed.”

  “I worked at The Black Swan for a summer,” she explained. “It was a long time ago, but it doesn’t get more basic than a Vodka Tonic.”

  Odin squeezed his lime into the glass. “The Black Swan?”

  “It’s a bar down in Greenville. The bar, actually. Surely you’ve been there.”

  “I can’t say that I have.” He smiled. “I don’t make a habit of frequenting pubs.”

  “No,” she said. “You don’t seem the type.”

  He cocked his head. “Tell me about it. What’s it like to tend bar?”

  She shrugged. “It’s a job like any other, just a little more social than most.”

  “You must have been good for business,” he said. “I’ll bet all the men in town came in for a drink just to look at you.”

  Lena blushed and shook her head. “Not me. They all came to see my best friend, Annie. She still works there…or she did, anyway. Talk about bees to honey, The Swan was always packed for her shifts.” Frowning slightly, she sipped her drink and stared at the water.

  Odin leaned forward, glass in hand. “What’s the matter? You look worried.”

  She shook her head and smiled. “Sorry, I drifted off for a moment. Annie met a new guy a while ago. Rumor has it, she ran off with him. I keep expecting to hear from her, but it’s been over three months now so I suppose I am a little concerned.”

  “It sounds as though your friend, Annie is, how do you say it? Flighty?” He sat back and crossed his left leg over his right. Lena stared at his bare feet. With high arches and well-groomed nails, even his feet were sexy.

  “Flighty’s a nice way to put it,” she said. “Most people hereabouts would say she gets around.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “She’s had a few men in her life.”

  Odin’s expression remained perplexed.

  “Sex,” she explained. “She sleeps with a lot of men.” Studiously avoiding his eyes, she rose to check the coals. “The steaks are on the countertop,” she called. “Would you mind bringing them out?”

  “Not at all.” Odin finished his drink and retrieved the meat. He took the fork from Lena’s hand. “Here, allow me. How would you like yours cooked?”

  “Rare, please,” she said, stepping away from the grill.

  “Excellent. Two rare steaks, coming up.”

  Lena sat on the porch and watched him. The smell of sizzling meat rose from the grill. After a couple of minutes, he flipped the steaks over leaving them perfectly seared on top.

  “It’s too bad Alex couldn’t make it this weekend,” he commented. “They say the weather will be beautiful.”

  Lena nodded. “I heard that too. Eighty degrees and sunny. Are you walking?”

  “As always. Would you care to join me?”

  He turned to face her and the butterflies were back. She hadn’t been so nervous around a man since the night in college when Alex had first asked her out.

  “Yes,” she said.

  Chapter 22.

  Contrary to the weather reports, the next morning dawned rainy and cool. Lena donned her jacket and waited impatiently for the red kayak to arrive. Dinner, the night before, had gone without a hitch with Odin acting the perfect gentleman throughout the evening. After coffee and brandy, he’d said goodnight and retreated to his side of the water without the hint of an advance. She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed and had gone to bed frustrated as Madame Butterfly kicked in across the lake.

  Through the rain, she saw him step from his dock. Within five minutes, he was pulling in to shore. He ran to the front porch dripping water and laughing as she ushered him inside. “My God, it’s wet!”

  She smiled. “Still up for that walk?”

  “Rain
or shine, Selene. It’s good for the body and good for the soul.”

  Lena poured a thermos of hot coffee and tucked it into her backpack. Together, they waited by the window until the rain eased. “Where to today?” she asked, following him into the meadow.

  Odin extended his hand to help her negotiate a puddle in the driveway. “I think, maybe, to the top of Bald Mountain. There’s a trail from Foss Mountain Road that leads to Bald Mountain Pond, and another trail from there to the summit. It’s a long hike, but better on a day like today when it’s not so hot.”

  “Should I make sandwiches?” she asked.

  “If you’d like.”

  Lena thought about it and ran back to the camp. She grabbed a box of granola bars and waved it before her as she rejoined him. “Just in case,” she said, shoving it into her pack.

  The views, as they climbed to the top of Bald Mountain, were partially obscured by mist rising from the pond below. Like Blackwater Pond, Odin informed her, Bald Mountain Pond was, in fact, a lake. It stretched before them into the distance, its surface dotted with tiny islands that appeared then disappeared in the murky morning light.

  “Look,” Odin said, suddenly. He squatted and grabbed Lena’s hand, tracing a paw print with his finger. “Here’s your coyote! She’s not so very big, you see.”

  “How do you know that track’s not from a dog?”

  Odin smiled. “I’m very good at tracking animals. I’ve done it all my life. Besides, she left scat over here.”

  “Scat?”

  “Excrement. Does that look like Alpo to you?”

  Lena shook her head. “How the hell do you know this stuff?”

  “I’ve got plenty of time and plenty of resources,” he said. “On top of which, I enjoy learning. Look here, Selene.”