“El, it’s not that I don’t . . .”
“I don’t want to hear it!” Ellen shouted.
“I gave the man my word! I can’t break it!”
“Bullshit!”
“Listen to me!” Frank argued, getting angrier.
“You won’t sleep with me or get back with me because of Dean. Dean! That’s all I need to hear. Go home and sleep with Dean, Frank, because you will never, never get another chance with me. Ever!”
“You’re being ridiculous!”
Ellen just gasped and quickly lunged over the front seat. She swung out her legs and narrowly missed Frank. She grabbed her jean jacket, rolled over the seat, and opened the door.
“El.” Frank grunted, then climbed awkwardly over, squeezing out. “El!”
Placing her jean jacket over her bare chest, Ellen started to walk. “Leave me alone.”
“What about your . . . . you know what! Fine!” Frank shouted. “Walk!”
“I will!”
“It’s fuckin thirty degrees, El!”
“I don’t care.” Ellen looked up to the immediate roll of thunder that sent the ice cold rain down. “Swell.”
“Freeze for all I care!” He debated shortly in following her then decided against it. In his frustrated spin around, he slammed his hand hard on the hood of the truck then got back in. He started it up, sped from his parking space, and drove, slowing down only to wave with instigation to a walking Ellen.
^^^^
A sense of fluttering hit Jess’s stomach when Hector opened the front door and he stepped into the home first. It wasn’t nervousness. It was . . . fear. A situation Jess hadn’t been faced with in forever was presented to him and in Jess’ recollection, he could never recall really going home with someone out of the blue.
The house looked like everyone else’s. The furniture was original, not redone like a lot of people who had had their couches recovered. Or like the sofas he heard that Joe sent Henry and Robbie out to get to make the women happy.
“Drink?” Hector asked, taking off his coat.
“Um.” Jess had to take an instant to feel how much the alcohol had already got to him. “Maybe a little. I’ve had enough tonight.”
Hector smiled, pouring from a ready bottle, a bottle that sat there with two glasses as if he was expecting the company. He brought both glasses with him as he walked to Jess who stood behind the couch. “Here.” He set the drinks down on the sofa table.
Jess took off his jacket. “So.” He tossed it over the couch.
“So.” Hector moved closer.
“We just gonna hang, talk. What do you wanna do?” Jess asked innocently enough.
Hector didn’t answer. He just walked behind Jess and directly against him. His hands went immediately to Jess’ hips.
Jess swallowed, feeling what he did and what he hadn’t felt in a really long time. “Hector.” His heart beat quicker with the actions instead of words by Hector. The strong, rugged, workers’ hands undid the buttons of Jess’s denim shirt until he opened it completely. Jess eyed his drink. He really wanted to get just one more taste. He felt the air of the room hit against his bare chest then Hector’s hands slide down his abdomen to the waist of his jeans at the same time lips slightly touched his neck. Jess’s throat tensed up. His stomach jittered and knotted at the sensation of hands upon him and then Jess grabbed on to Hector’s wrist. “Stop.” He lifted the hands from him. “I’m sorry.” Jess stepped away and grabbed his coat. “It’s not you. It’s me. And this . . . this is not me. It’s not what I’m about. I’m sorry.” Jess, without saying anything more or taking time to button his shirt, walked to the door. He didn’t hesitate in opening it and he walked right outside.
The rain hit him hard and he looked up. “Shit.” Slipping on his coat, he stepped down the first step of the small porch and froze, not from the rain or temperature, but from the shock seeing Ellen who obviously saw him come out of the house. “El.”
“Jess.” Ellen’s eyes widened. “Were you with . . .”
“No.” Jess looked back to Hector’s house. “Yes, but no.”
Ellen grumbled into a laugh as she spun in the street. “Oh my God! All my hard work!” She joked, slapping her wet hand at his exposed chest.
Jess looked down. “Shit, El. It’s not what you think.”
“Neither is this.” She opened her jean jacket in a flash of her own bare chest.
Jess, shrieking, grabbed the edges of her jacket and closed it as he stepped to her as if to block anyone on the empty street from seeing. “What . . . what are you doing?”
“Oh,” Ellen whined out, “probably wallowing in embarrassment brought on by too much drinking.”
Jess chuckled. “Can I join you in that?”
Just as he held her jacket together, Ellen reached out and pulled Jess’ coat closed. “Walk me home. We’ll wallow together.”
“And it summed it all up right then and there.” Jess tossed his coat and shirt on the chair then sat on Ellen’s couch. “I never viewed it as anything until tonight.” He ran his fingers rapidly through his wet hair like a comb.
“And?” Ellen asked as she came from the kitchen with two glasses, still wearing only her jean jacket. She handed one to Jess.
Jess sniffled before he took it “Thanks.”
Ellen sat down.
“Sex.” Jess sipped and gasped. “Should we be drinking more?”
“It’s to warm us.” Ellen held up her glass and clinked it to Jess’s.
“It’s simply a game. That’s it.” He set his glass down. “Everything was set up like a little skit, you know, something he has rehearsed a million times. Fined tune. Who to pick. When to pick them. When to make the move. And it told me. This is it. The men who want physical contact, that’s all it is. It’s not who they’re with, it’s just an act of sex. And they make it into a game. ”
“I wanted sex tonight.”
‘No, you didn’t.”
“Yeah, I did Jess. I wanted sex.”
“El, you wanted closeness with Frank. Big difference. Yeah, it could have been sex. It could have been as raw or as tender as the moment took it and still it would have been more.” Jess turned his body to face her. “Don’t you see? There’s a closeness between you two, an underlying friendship that can’t be taken away. So with intimacy, there will always be more. That’s . . . that’s what it’s about.”
Ellen laughed. “Are you drunk?”
“Very much.”
“I thought so. You’re rambling.”
Jess watched as Ellen reached down to put her glass on the table. As she did, her coat opened. “Should you get dressed?”
“I’m fine. Oh, God, Jess.” Ellen closed her eyes and leaned back to the arm of the sofa. “What was I like tonight?”
“You? What about me?”
“You’re not as bad as me, trust me.” Ellen opened her eyes.
“No. I’m worse.” Jess held up his hand. “I wanted physical contact so badly.”
“Tell me about it.”
“But look what I did,” Jess said. “I went against everything I believed in my whole life. Against everything I felt being close was about. I go home with some guy who, even in a small community like this, I barely know. A guy who makes it a pastime to . . .” Jess held his fingers up in quotes. “To attach. And I almost slipped into it. I like that feeling. I let him touch my body.”
“Well, in his defense.” Ellen leaned forward. “It’s a great body.”
“You think?”
“Yeah.” Ellen nodded. “But . . . but, I throw myself at Elliott and he turns me down. I throw myself at Frank. Frank turns me down. And to make matters worse, I flirt with Elliott on a night he has a date,” Ellen grunted loudly.
“Still nothing you did or do can be as embarrassing or as bad as when I hit on Robbie.”
Ellen stared in seriousness then burst into laughter. “O.K., you’re right. That was bad.”
“Thanks.”
&nbs
p; “No. You kissed . . .” Ellen snickered. “You kissed him. He didn’t see it coming.”
“I thought he was gay.”
Ellen laughed harder. “Man, Jess.” She leaned back again on the arm of the sofa. “Look at us.”
“Soaking wet.”
“Half naked.” Ellen opened her coat a little.
“Pathetic.”
“The pits.”
“You know what this calls for don’t you?” Jess asked.
“Doris Day.”
“Exactly.” Jess nodded.
“You get the Pillow Talk. I’ll get the snacks.” Ellen stood and walked out of the room.
It was what Jess needed, more than physical contact and with that, he sought out the movie.
^^^^
“Where are the kids?” Frank asked as soon as he stepped into the living room.
“Huh?” Dean asked confused as he sat up on the couch.
“They in bed?”
“What?”
“Were you sleeping?”
“Um, I don’t know.” Dean sounded hazy.
“Dean? What do you mean you don’t know if you were sleeping? Are you all right?”
Dean rubbed his eyes. “Yeah. I was sleeping. I’m sorry. Just groggy.”
Frank plopped down in the chair. “You look bad.”
“Thanks.”
“Pale.”
“Frank. What are you doing here? I thought you had to work.”
“Two things,” Frank said. “One is to see the kids. Are they in bed?”
“Why would they be here? I’m not allowed to have them.”
“Yeah, you are”
“Says who?” Dean asked.
“Ellen.”
“Ellen has a court order on me.”
“Dean.” Frank reached out and snapped his fingers. “Ellen told me that she told you today she was dropping that and you could have the kids.”
“She didn’t tell me that, Frank, or I would have them.”
“Maybe she mentioned that she was gonna tell you. I don’t know.” Frank scratched his head. “Oh, well. Surprise. Guess what El is gonna do?”
“Is she really?”
“Yep.” Frank nodded.
Dean closed his eyes in relief. “Thank God. I’ll have to thank her. And the other?”
“Other what?”
“Other reason you came home.”
“Oh.” Frank snapped his fingers. “I have to apologize. I’m feeling really horrible.”
“Shit. You slept with her.”
“Who?”
“Ellen.”
‘No.” Frank shook his head.
“Then why do you feel horrible.”
“I . . . could have.” Frank folded his hands. “I gave you my word I wouldn’t take advantage of it and . . . I thought about it. She was half naked in front of me and I reached for it.”
“But you didn’t?”
“No. She stopped it.” Frank stared at his hands.
“Ellen?” Dean asked shocked. “Ellen stopped it?”
“Yeah.”
“She wouldn’t have stopped it. You’re lying.”
“No I’m not. She stopped it.”
“Why?”
“She uh . . . she started her period. Yeah, that’s it.”
“Frank, Ellen doesn’t get . . . get . . .” Dean remembered Frank wasn’t supposed to know. “Get like that. I know you’re lying. You stopped it. Why?”
“Why am I lying or why did I stop it?”
“Both.”
“I couldn’t do it. I mean . . .” Frank cleared his throat. “I could but I gave you my word. I know it seems like I break my word. That’s only because I really never give it. When I give it, I keep it. She’s your wife.” Frank stood up. “Even though things are bad, they are bad because someone decided to screw around with your lives, not because you guys went bad. Even though you fucked me over and married her when you shouldn’t have . . . I have to respect your marriage. I never did. I also never respected Ellen’s marriage to Pete, yet when she was married to me, I expected people to respect that. Why?”
“You’re selfish.”
“True.” Frank paced.
“So why the change in attitude?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I grew up. Maybe not.” Frank shrugged. “Don’t think wrong. I love her, Dean. I love her with everything I am and I would give anything to have her back in my life. I could have her, you know, without stealing her from you, because it’s acceptable if . . . if it’s gone about the right way. I want her the right way. Sneaking an affair or breaking my word to you is not the right way. It’s basically stabbing you in the back. I think . . .” Frank closed one eye in a wince. “I hate to say this, but I think I’ve known you too long and consider you too much of a friend to ever stab you in the back again. So . . .” Frank clapped his hands. “On that pathetic, mushy note, I’m heading out. Maybe I’ll stop and see El on the way to work.”
Dean stood up as Frank moved to the door. “You’re really not going to pursue stealing her. Really?”
“Sounds stupid huh? But no. To be honest, if it ends up that you’ll never get back, yeah, I’m pursuing. But if she takes your little ass back, I’ll wait until she leaves you.” Frank reached for the door. “That’s the only way I’ll get her.”
“Or if I give you an understanding.”
“Which will never happen. You made it abundantly clear that I am not the Slagel you’ll have an understanding with.”
“Then . . . I was wrong.”
Frank stopped leaving.
“Look whether we want to admit it or not, for over seven years, it always ends up you, me, and Ellen. And we fight Frank.” Dean closed his eyes with a clenched fist. “We have gone toe to toe and ripped each other apart, cut throat, over something we can’t change. It’s not right.” Dean let out a breath. “We, you and I, have come a long way. I don’t want to stop bickering and fighting with you. I enjoy it, but I don’t want to fight anymore over Ellen. We’re too old and life’s too short. So I say if our sorry, old, lonely asses ever get another shot at the love of our life, I say . . . we do it the right way, together with respect for one another and as friends. Let’s end this long war between us once and for all. End it.” Dean extended his hand. “What do you say?”
After only a moment’s hesitation, Frank reached down and firmly gripped his hand. “Ended.”
Dean smiled.
“But we have a fight.” Frank opened the door. “Right now we’ve been replaced.”
“By who?”
“Elliott and Jess.”
Dean laughed. “No way. They’re company to her. That’s all.”
“Dean, I’m telling you.”
“No, Frank, I’m telling you. Elliott has no interest. He told her. You saw him shoot her down.”
“True.”
“And Jess . . . is gay.”
“No, he’s not.”
“Yes he is. Very much so. He has been all of his life. He’s always has been . . . gay. Ask Robbie.”
“No, I don’t . . .”
“Frank.” Dean cleared his throat. “He made . . . he made quiche tonight.”
“Oh my God!” Frank gasped. “Jess is gay?”
“Yep.” Dean nodded and watched as Frank started to leave.
Frank chuckled. “And here I thought he was a threat.”
“Nope. He’s gay. Jess is no threat.”
^^^^
Frank was starting to feel really bad about his night with Ellen. Leading her on, possibly turning her on then literally sending her into a cold shower. After his talk with Dean, he felt even more compelled to talk to Ellen.
Going out of his way to see her, Frank walked to the end of the living section where the modular homes were. The lights were off except that weird blue glow that came from a television.
He stopped and thought whether he should knock. Maybe Ellen was asleep. She did drink a lot.
Then he heard laughter, lots of laughter. Fr
ank caught glimpse of Ellen and Jess cozy on the couch as he passed the window.
He could have left, but he didn’t. Instead, Frank knocked and waited.
Ellen opened the door. “Frank.”
“Are you still mad at me?” Frank asked.
Ellen looked over her shoulder. “No, I’m good. Jess helped.”
Frank looked at Jess on the couch. Jess lifted his hand in a wave. “Jess helped.”
“Yes and if you don’t mind we’re in the middle of Doris Day.”
“Doris Day?” Frank asked. “Jess is watching Doris Day with you?”
“Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Nope. Not at all. Carry on.” Frank turned from the door, and when he heard it close, he clenched his fist and grinned. “Oh, yeah, Doris Day. Dean is right. Jess is gay.”
CHAPTER THREE
October 25
Beginnings, Montana
Dean held the basket to the coffee maker in one hand, the coffee scoop in the other. His eyes shifted with confusion to the jar of grinds. How much coffee was he making? Two, four cups? How many scoops? It felt as difficult at that moment to Dean as curing the plague. Forgoing the coffee and figuring Ellen would make it when she got up, he stumbled back out of the kitchen.
He couldn’t believe the headache that pounded at him and it made him wonder if he got drunk, especially since his dining room area looked so different. Where were all the pictures of the kids? Ellen’s useless Home Interior’s centerpiece she prided herself for keeping? And although it was only a little after eight, why was everyone sleeping so late? Dean decided to take advantage of the quiet. It wasn’t going to be long before the twins got up for their bottles.
Resting his head back against the sofa, Dean sat back up when his front door opened. Turning around to see who walked in, he filled with anger. “Frank!”
“What!” Frank shut the door. “Man, you look bad.”’
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Um, stopping by to shave before church?” Frank moved to the steps.
“Stop.” Dean flew from the couch.
The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20 Page 114