by P. C. Zick
CHAPTER THREE
Dean roared down State Road 25 toward the center of Victory, Florida, where he’d been born and raised until the age of seventeen. Nothing much had changed. As Dean traveled down the main drag in the center of town, he wondered how a place as downtrodden as this one could hold onto the name of Victory.
He pulled into the diagonal parking spot in front of Victory Tavern and put the bike on its stand. He stood on Main Street and looked around at the businesses. Miss Emma’s dress shop still catered to the matronly set of Victory with Maiden Form bras, girdles, and polyester suits like the one Geraldine wore. Dean shuddered to think of Geraldine as he looked down the street.
The old sports store where his dad bought his and Jacob’s baseball cleats and basketball sneakers looked closed and forgotten, probably abandoned by Victory years ago. The old ice cream parlor on the corner looked like the only place with activity on this warm afternoon in May. He could see the sign for Dew Drops down at the end of the drag, but he couldn’t tell if it was still open for breakfast and lunch.
The tavern’s red open sign glowed from the dark front window, even though it didn’t look very lively. His buddy Reggie still ran the place. At least he did the last time they’d talked. Dean walked toward the front door. It opened with the rush of air-conditioned wind as someone smelling of too sweet gardenia perfume breezed by him. He’d know that smell anywhere.
“Sally Jean, where you going in such a hurry?” he asked.
“Dean? Is that really you?” said a woman oozing blue eye shadow and pink blush. Her permed blonde hair looked as if the eighties took up residence in a nest of sprayed moss on top and stretched down to her shoulders. “I can’t believe you’re finally back.”
“You haven’t changed one single bit, you sexy lady,” Dean said as he accepted her hug. He grinned at her and gave her tight red jeans a slap on the butt.
She pushed her ample breasts into his chest. The loose and low-cut ruffled neck of red-striped blouse threatened to dump her boobs right onto the sidewalk.
“And you’re still one big hunk of a man,” Sally Jean said. “But you need a haircut. Don’t they have barbers down in Miami?”
“It’s a look I cultivate,” Dean said. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”
“I bet you do. Are you coming into the Tavern? My Avon ladies can wait a little longer for their deliveries, if you’d like to have a drink.”
“That’s the best offer all day. Nothing I’d rather do than have a drink with you,” he said. “Maybe a few drinks, if you’re willing.”
“You know I’d do anything with you, Dean. It’s you ran away, leaving me with a broken heart.”
“You seemed to have survived,” Dean said. “Now let’s get inside before the heat melts us right down to the sidewalk.”
Several men turned from their beers at the bar, and when they recognized who’d joined them, shouts and high fives met Dean as he walked down the line of bar stools. Most of the guys sitting there on a Friday afternoon once played football with Dean, Victory’s star quarterback.
The wooden and scarred bar ran the length of the room. A spattering of tables filled the rest of the space. Reggie Barker came out from behind the bar and gave him a hug.
“Damn, Dean, I didn’t know you were coming to town,” Reggie said. “You should’ve called or something.”
“It was a last minute decision; I need to take care of some business. Speaking of business, how’s the bar doing these days?”
“Steady, thanks to these guys,” Reggie gestured to the filled bar stools. “I’ve been doing some dinner business.”
“That’s great to hear. What you got for a tired homeless guy to eat?”
“Spaghetti and meatballs coming right up.” Reggie slapped him on the back and headed to the kitchen.
“You’re homeless?” Sally Jean asked as they found two empty stools at the end of the bar.
“For tonight, I am. Got any place I can stay?”
“You know I do,” Sally said, as Reggie placed a plate heaping with garlic bread, meatballs, and spaghetti in front of Dean.
“Beers all around,” Dean said. “I’m feeling pretty lucky today now that I’ve found Sally Jean here.”
“I always knew I liked you, Dean Davis,” Charlie said from the other end of the bar. He lifted his mug in a salute.
“You always liked beer, Charlie,” Dean said. “You’d eat my shit, if I bought you beer every day.”
After Dean finished his lunch, he drank his beer and kept his arm around Sally Jean’s waist, letting his hand wander wherever it wanted. Reggie poured him another beer. He drank to forget about his encounter with Geraldine; he fondled Sally Jean to forget the woman engaged to his brother.
“Have you seen your mother yet?” Charlie asked.
“Just came from there,” Dean said. “What’s with Jacob and the waif he’s going to marry?”
“Her,” Sally Jean said with almost a snort. “She’s a do-gooder that Geraldine took in a few years ago. I hear she was homeless, but now she acts as if she’s better than everyone else except those fellows who camp down by the river.”
“Who are they?” Dean asked.
“It’s a group of men and women who camp on the banks of Deer River,” Reggie said. “Most of them are homeless vets.”
“They came here after Leah set up that kitchen,” Charlie said. “As long as she keeps feeding them, they’ll be like the Canada geese that forget to migrate out of Florida during the summers.”
They all laughed and lifted their mugs to toast Charlie’s joke. Dean remained quiet and drank his beer. He removed his arm from around Sally Jean’s waist.
“Seems like that would be a good thing to do,” he said. “I mean, no one else’s taking care of them, are they?”
“She’s a good person, who’s doing a good thing,” Reggie said. “I feel sorry for her in a way. She’s become Geraldine’s pet project, and you know what that means.”
“How’s life in the big city?” Charlie asked. “Still work in the tattoo shop?”
“Sure do,” Dean said. “You wouldn’t believe how many drunks I’ve tatted over the past few years.”
Reggie let out a grunt. “He doesn’t just work in a shop, you moron. He owns the best tattoo parlor in South Beach.”
“That right?” Joe sat next to Charlie, and he got up and walked toward Dean. “What’s the name of the shop?”
“Harold Grant Tats,” Reggie said, as Dean continued to drink his beer.
“Harold Grant?” Joe said. “That’s the famous guy who does all the sports guys down in Miami, like Lebron.”
“You know Harold?” Charlie asked.
“I might,” Dean said.
“I’d like a tattoo,” Sally Jean said. “Right on my behind here.” She turned around and bent over so her rear end was nearly resting on Dean’s chest.
“What kind of tat do you want?” Dean asked.
“I want it to say ‘the seat of authority’ on a paddle.”
“Sally Jean, if anyone could have that many words on their ass, it’s you,” Charlie said as Sally Jean stood and flashed him the finger.
“Can you do that?” Sally Jean asked.
“It could be arranged,” Dean said. “But we’d have to go back to your place to get it outlined.”
The entire bar broke into laughter as comments flew around the mugs of beer. Sally Jean looked Dean in the eye as she sidled up to him.
“Let’s go, cowboy,” Sally Jean said. “You’ve kept me waiting far too long.”
Dean paid Reggie for the beers and meal, and then left the bar with Sally Jean. The hoots of his old friends followed them out into the sunshine. Dean got onto his motorcycle, and Sally Jean hopped on the back pushing herself as close to his back as she possibly could.
“Here’s a helmet, if you want one,” Dean said as he slipped a black helmet off the handlebars.
“You kidding? That’d ruin my hair.”
�
��What about the wind?”
Sally Jean laughed. “Honey, I got enough hair spray on this mop to go through a hurricane without moving a hair. I live out past the church at the old Collier place. They’re renting the farmhouse to me, but they’re still growing tobacco in the fields.”
They started down Main Street, and as they reached the turn for the state road, Leah stepped out of a white Dodge van emblazoned with the words “Sunshine Church.” Dean nodded at her, and Sally Jean smiled as she squeezed Dean even tighter. Leah stared at the duo, but did not give Dean any sign of recognition.
Dean smiled to think about how it looked to Leah. He hoped the image haunted her when she went to sleep that night in his former home with her fiancé. Too bad he couldn’t get the feel of her lips as he kissed her off his mind. But if anyone could wipe away the memory, it would be Sally Jean, he thought as her breasts pressed into his back.
CHAPTER FOUR
Leah proceeded to the dry cleaners after Dean and Sally Jean turned the corner. Her shame at kissing him made her face flush when remembered. She put her fingers to her lips. It was even worse knowing she’d kissed him back and didn’t try to stop him. Now seeing him with another woman a short time later only increased her humiliation.
“The heat must be getting to you,” Susie Williams said from behind the counter at the dry cleaners when Leah pushed open the door. “Your face is beet red. It’s bad in the back today, so I know it’s a scorcher out there.”
Leah felt her cheeks. They were still warm from her attack of shame out on the street. Luckily, it was a hot day. Many things could be explained away by Florida’s stifling humidity.
“It feels like August, and the air conditioner in the van is broken,” Leah said. “I sure hope we can get it fixed before summer’s on us full force.”
“How much longer is the kitchen open?” Susie asked.
“Geraldine told me to shut it down today. I couldn’t even serve lunch,” Leah said. “They cut the funding, but when I asked Jacob if I could continue if I found a way to fund it, he said no.”
“I’m sorry, Leah. You’ve worked so hard to make sure the river folks are fed every day.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Leah said. “But I need to figure something out because they depend on me.”
“They’ll go somewhere else,” Susie said. “They’re used to being kicked out of places where they’re not wanted. A few of them came from St. Augustine when the officials there banned them from the Plaza downtown.”
“I know,” Leah said. “And some of them followed me here from Tampa. I urged them to come. This is better because it’s on the river. I can bring food to them for the time being, but where will I get the money for that? Maybe I need to get a job now that I’m not running Soup’s On.”
“I can’t believe Jacob couldn’t do anything,” Susie said. “He’s the minister. I know Big Jim wouldn’t have allowed this to happen.”
“You’re right. Big Jim supported Soup’s On from the beginning,” she said. “He understood. Now I feel as if I’m living with two strangers.”
She was disappointed in Jacob and his refusal to do anything. Geraldine was even worse—she almost seemed spiteful about Leah’s interest in the homeless.
“I know you don’t like me to say anything bad about your fiancé and his mother,” Susie said. “But I can’t help it. They could do something, and I think you know it.”
Susie went to the back to retrieve the week’s dry cleaning for the church, and Leah watched her retreating figure knowing her friend was right. But for now, she had plenty to do to keep her busy for the rest of the afternoon. As soon as she left the dry cleaners, she’d go back to the church and begin organizing everything for Sunday’s service by placing the altar scarves in place and putting Jacob’s robe in his office. This week’s load was particularly large because they’d done half of the choir’s robes. She did them in rotation each month. The choir members always protested during the summer that they needed them done once a week, but so far, she’d managed to keep it to every other week during the summer. The air conditioning in the sanctuary was old and couldn’t keep up with August.
She and Susie became friends almost immediately after Leah moved in with Geraldine and Jacob. They were the same age and gravitated to one another during Sunday school one day when the topic turned to forgiveness. Susie’s family had lived on a farm outside of town where they grew watermelons, but her dad left when she was a teenager, and her mom died of cancer the year Susie graduated from high school. It’s something she and Leah had in common; both of them had lost their mothers at a young age. Susie fell in love with Reggie when she was seventeen and he was twenty-two, and they’d been a couple ever since. Leah sometimes wondered why they didn’t get married, but she was too shy to ask Susie such a personal question, even though they’d been friends for a few years.
“Did you know Dean Davis?” Leah asked as Susie came back with the first load of robes. She hung them on the rack next to the counter.
“Sure, he left town right after he graduated,” Susie said. “He and Reggie were best friends. They still keep in contact, but Dean never comes back to Victory. Geraldine accused him of some stuff, but Reggie said none of it was true. Geraldine always favored Jacob.”
“You didn’t think he was dead?” Leah asked. “Jacob and Geraldine told me he died in a motorcycle accident when he was seventeen. Geraldine said never to mention his name to Big Jim because Dean’s death broke his heart.”
“It wasn’t an accident. He rode out of town on his cycle and never came back. I didn’t know him very well.”
“He showed up at the church today,” Leah said.
“Dean’s back in Victory?” Susie smiled. “Now that’s some news. Surprised I didn’t hear the fireworks. Does Geraldine know?”
“He came by the church. Geraldine told him to leave or she’d call the police.”
“I bet she did. To the family, he was dead. That’s probably why they told you that.”
“That’s what Geraldine said. What did he do that was so awful?” Leah asked.
“You need to ask your future husband and mother-in-law,” Susie said. “All I know are the rumors, which Reggie swears aren’t true.”
After Susie helped Leah put the clothes rack with all the robes in the back of the van, Leah decided to ask one more question.
“Did Dean ever date Sally Jean?”
“Are you kidding? Dean was the love of Sally’s life, according to her. She’s always harbored a hope he’d come back and claim her,” Susie said as she shook her head. “I never understood it either. Sally Jean could have left here or had any other man around town. But she stayed and waited. Dean’s a good looking dude, or he was, but why would anyone wait ten years?”
“Why didn’t she follow him to Miami and find him herself?”
“I think she always had some romantic notion of him riding up on his motorcycle and whisking her off. You know, like that scene in An Officer and a Gentleman where Richard Gere walks into the factory and picks up Debra Winger, and they ride into the sunset on his bike? That’s Sally Jean’s greatest hope.”
“Looks like her dream came true,” Leah said. “I just saw her and Dean head out of town on his bike.”
“Is he still a hunk?”
“I guess, if you like that type.”
Leah drove back to the church deep in thought about why Dean left ten years ago. What made him return now? He acted surprised when she told him Big Jim died; yet he told his mother that’s the reason he returned. Why had he come back?
She parked the van and went inside to find Carl, the church custodian, to help her get the rack out of the van and into the church offices. She felt light headed with the day’s activities, but she was determined to find out why Geraldine and Jacob had lied to her. Even if Dean was dead to them emotionally, she had a right to know her future brother-in-law was still alive.
CHAPTER FIVE
Dean turned into t
he long sandy driveway that led to a dilapidated two-story farmhouse. Its sagging front porch and peeling white paint told him that Sally Jean probably didn’t pay much rent for the dump.
When he stopped, Sally Jean jumped off the bike, and stood before him.
“I hope you don’t mind the mess,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting company, but I was going to clean later.”
They walked into the kitchen where the sink overflowed with dirty dishes. Newspapers and gossip magazines covered the kitchen table. The smell of rotting food and sour milk assaulted Dean as soon as he entered the house. Sally would need more than an afternoon to clean up this mess. He felt his desire slipping.
“I don’t get much company,” she said.
She led him through the kitchen and into the dining room—or what had once been the dining room. Now it looked like a closet with more stacks of newspapers and magazines. An old bike leaned against one wall. Dean ignored the mess and followed Sally Jean’s red jeans into the bedroom, which at least didn’t contain piles of junk. But the bed was unmade and the sheets looked as if they needed a change.
Sally Jean immediately pulled up her gauzy flowered top to reveal the breasts Dean remembered from high school. He spent many a late night in the back seat of a car fondling those babies. They nearly fell out of her too small red bra, and he tried to pull them out without unfastening the snaps at the back. She gave him a hand by reaching behind her and unclasping the hooks. The bra fell to the ground and the mounds of flesh were set free with nipples already standing at erection. He wished he could love this woman standing before him ready to give him anything he wanted. But as usual, he felt nothing except a need to take her quickly and then leave as soon as possible.
“You haven’t changed one bit, Sal,” Dean said as he came closer.
“And you’ve only gotten handsomer and stronger.” She ran her hands down his arms.