by Aubrey Cara
Caleb dumped Kat in the passenger side and slammed the door. He called out from across the way making Jake pause on the way to his truck. “I almost forgot to tell you. I resigned from the military. Taking early retirement.”
“What?!” Jake said
With a mock salute he hopped in the driver’s side of the sedan. Jake could hear Kat yelling, “This isn’t the Stone Age you ignorant southern mother fu—” before Caleb shut the door and started up the engine.
Jake stood for a moment, surprised by his friend’s announcement. Jake thought Caleb loved the military and now wondered what had happened to cause this sudden change. Del’s “I hate you,” muffled with her face pressed up against his back, brought him back to the present. He gave her a little jostle and a swat to her fanny. Then he swatted it again just for posterity. The third time he swatted her it was just because he wanted to. Just because it was right there, and had been driving him crazy all night.
“Time to take you home, sweet cheeks,” he said, genuinely happy for the first time all night.
She made an “umph” when he unceremoniously dumped her into the truck and climbed in behind the wheel. They sat in silence for a minute, driving down the street and turning a corner. She was sprawled with her skirt bunched up around her waist on the seat next to him, not seeming to care about the extra exposure. Her panties, he noticed with a grin, were satin and bikini cut, with cute little bows at the hips. A big improvement from the underwear he had last seen her in.
“What’s your deal Jake For-est-ster?” Her hand flopped up to smack him in the chest. “You waltz in makin' me think you want me. Makin' me think maybe I’m special. Makin' me feel,” she waved her hands around, as she was obviously trying to think of what to say. “...all tingly and tied in knots.”
She flopped her head over to look up at him. “You’re a real dick, you know that? I’ve had a rough year. And do you really think you had to turn me up sweet to be nice to Steven? I love that kid despite the fact that his daddy is an asshole! You didn’t have to toy with me.”
Jake didn’t say anything in reply as he pulled up to the back entrance to the bakery and her apartment. He should have tried talking to her before tonight. Now looking at her drunk form he realized she wouldn’t remember if he tried to explain himself. That didn’t stop him for feeling a little sheepish that he was probably part of the reason she was so whiskey soaked. Parking, he got out first before helping her out as she pulled down her skirt and sidestepped a bit.
“You know,” she said staggering in Jake's direction. She pulled her cowboy hat low lookin' up at Jake from under the brim with one eye, the other clenched shut. She was adorable drunk, he thought grinning.
Jabbing a finger in his chest she said, “I may be trailer trash, but I’m not a trailer-trick- gold-digging-whore. I would have taken your ass just the way you are.” Her voice broke a little at the end of this pronouncement like she was about to cry.
Great, he thought, Steven’s been running his mouth. “Is that so?” he asked.
“Ya, that’s so!”
Pulling her close he took off her hat, smoothed his hands down her hair, and ran them over her until his arms rested in the center of her back, encircling her. He realized even sloppy drunk, reeking of whiskey, she felt right in his arms. He should feel guilty about how much of his anatomy was feeling agreeable about her pressed up against him, but he couldn’t seem to work any up.
He might feel horrible that she had gotten upset over him but he’d be damned before he felt sorry for the way he responded to her. Now that he knew how she felt about him there wasn’t anything that could keep him away. He was going to tell her that too. He just had to wait until she was sober.
“Del, we need to talk. Not tonight, but tomorrow when you're not so drunk.”
“I’m na druk. I don’t dreenk.”
Jake chuckled. “Even so, I want you clear headed.” He absently ran his thumb down her cheek and cupped her face. He loved the feel of her skin. “I’ve been staying away from you for Steven and it’s been killing me. I’m so sorry you thought I’ve been playing with you. I should have talked to you before. I just didn’t trust myself not to jump on you and keep you in bed for a week. I still don’t.” Both her eyes opened wide at this announcement. “Maybe after we talk about everything and I have a talk with Steven, we can go out on a real date. One that doesn’t involve you skipping out on me.”
She looked up at him all blurry eyed. Appreciation warred with confusion before the sweet look of adoration shone on her face. That look was the sweetest thing he had ever seen, even knowing she would never be this unguarded had she not been so drunk.
“Jake, that is the best thing you could have said. You’re so pretty.” Running her hands up his chest, she closed her eyes, tilting her face up for a kiss. He lowered his head knowing he shouldn’t be taking advantage of her when she was inebriated but not caring.
Just as he was brushing her lips with his, she pitched to the left. Leaning hard on his arm still holding her and emptied her stomach. He heard it splatter on the concrete and hoped that she had missed their boots. Caleb was right, he reflected, he did indeed have a way with women.
“All right, come on star shine, let’s get you inside. Del? Delia?” He tugged up on her but she remained slumped over. She had passed out. “Quite a way with women,” he muttered to himself. He swung her up in his arms, grimaced at the stench of vomit, and carried her to his truck. Looked as though she would be staying the night at his place.
CHAPTER SIX
The next morning Delia woke to the sounds of someone shuffling around, and she wondered where the sound could possibly be coming from. That’s weird, she mused still half asleep, I usually can’t hear Sally in the mornings, just the cars outside my window. She pulled her blanket up over her shoulder, burrowing deeper into the cushions. Cushions?
Eyes still shut, she reached a hand out and felt cold leather. Cracking one gritty eye open she pinched it shut against the light streaming into the room, shooting pain through her skull.
“Ugh.”
Holding her head, she gingerly sat up, slowly opening one eye and then the other. It felt like sandpaper was on the inside of her eyelids as she blinked. Every muscle in her body felt tight and sore, reminding her why it was she didn’t drink. It wasn’t because her mama was a drunk, it was because she didn’t like feeling like dog butt the next day.
She wondered why her mother would choose to feel this way on a regular basis. Wiping the grit from her tired eyes she took in her surroundings. She was on a masculine brown leather couch, a soft green throw blanket covering the same clothes she'd worn last night. She thought the blanket smelled horrible. Pulling it away from her, she belatedly realized the smell was her.
She didn’t know where her boots were. Looking around the room she noticed it was a nice homey living room painted mint green with dark wood trim. To her left was the fireplace, a hunting picture over the mantel, two windows made the corner, and the TV sat across from her against the far wall. To the right of the TV was a stairwell and a hallway, with a doorway in view leading to the kitchen.
“Hey, you’re awake!”
She jumped as Steven bounced down the stairs the sound banging through her skull in throbs of pain. Stopping right in front of her, his face scrunched up. “Whoa, you smell bad. You look kinda rough, you all right Del?”
She licked her dry lips. Reaching out and grabbed Steven's hand like a lifeline, too hungover to be embarrassed she was in this state in front of him. The embarrassment would come later, after she figured out where she was and how she was going to get home.
“Steven sweetie, am I at your house?”
“You don’t know? How’d you get here?”
Seeing her stricken look, he drawled out an “Ohhh, well Dad made some coffee. He’s even making breakfast. Like a real one, with eggs and stuff.”
She dropped Steven’s hand, letting him walk into the kitchen where Jake was obviously cookin
g. Slumping over, head on her knees, her arms fell to the floor in abject misery. She tried to recall everything that happened the night before. It all came back to her in a blinding flash.
Getting dolled up with Kat. Having a very public argument with Jake. Doing shots of whiskey and drinking copious amounts of beer, along with getting up on stage and singing. That was liquid courage for you, she thought. She wouldn’t have ever tortured poor bystanders with her singing voice if not for liquor.
She frowned recalling drunkenly telling Jake her feelings, then smiled slightly upon remembering all the wonderful things he had said right before she puked all over him. Her smile died, humiliation rolling through her. Oh God, no. Maybe everyone was right and she was going to turn out like her mama. Hadn’t she just spent the last night drinking herself into a stupor?
“Uuugh.” Her dejected moan came out loud and Jake peeked around the corner.
“Good morning star shine, come on in here and get some coffee. It’ll make you feel human again.”
She doubted it as she hauled herself off the couch and made her way to the kitchen. It really wasn’t fair. He was so chipper this morning while she felt like a railroad spike had been jabbed through her skull.
Walking into the kitchen, she found herself surrounded by the smell of eggs and bacon. She noticed, like the living room, it was bright and homey. Unlike the living room the kitchen felt distinctly feminine with white lacy curtains, butter cream yellow walls, and white cabinets.
She would have wondered why two guys had such a girly kitchen if not for the food aroma making her queasy. Jake handed her a cup of coffee on her way to the table at the far end of the kitchen, set in the bay window, where Steven was already sitting, grinning like a fool.
“There’s cream and sugar on the table,” Jake said.
She poured a bit of cream and stirred in a dab of sugar, not wanting to overdo it. As she sat stirring she started to feel discomforted by Steven's stare and smile.
“What are you smiling about Steven?”
“That’s quite an outfit you’re wearing Del.”
She turned red, stopping in mid sip. She pulled up on her shirt, painfully aware of her bra-less state. She suddenly wanted to crawl out of the kitchen and slink home like the bottom feeder she was.
“Steven,” Jake warned sternly, but gave her a pointed look.
“What Dad? I got eyes.”
“You also got a big mouth. Leave Del alone and eat your breakfast.” Setting some forks out on the table he set down a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of her and a heaping plate in front of himself. She nibbled at a piece of toast trying to calm the nauseous feeling rising in her belly at the sight and smell of the food.
Jake cleared his throat. “Steven I’m glad we’re all together. I think it’s time we all talked.”
Delia watched as he took a huge bite of eggs and she wondered if she turned green. Her eyes watered and she swayed like on a ship out to sea. She was sure she must be green.
“It’s about Delia and I and you, son. I don’t know how to start this. Del… Del you okay? You look a little green.”
She placed a hand on either side of her plate, taking deep breaths, sweat breaking out on her forehead. She looked up to see Jake and Steven staring at her in horror and concern. Realization dawned quickly. Jake jumped up and pulled out her chair. “Right off the kitchen,” he said. She jumped up and ran to the bathroom. Slamming the door behind her.
*** ***
Jake stood outside the door of the bathroom feeling powerless. Running a hand through his hair he tentatively knocked. “Do you need me to help you in there? I could hold your hair.”
He heard one more heave and then a moaned, “God no, please don’t. Go away!”
“Okay.” He stood there another minute conflicted as he tried to decide whether to go in anyway. When he heard nothing more he went back and took his place at the table.
“Del all right dad?”
“Yeah, she’ll be fine. Son… I think this would be a good time to warn you of the dangers of over imbibing alcohol.”
“Is that what happened to Del?”
“Yep.”
“Then how come you’re not sick? Didn’t you go to Buck's last night too?”
“I did, but I only had a few beers. It’s all about moderation son, it’s all about moderation.” To punctuate this they heard Delia paying for her overindulgence.
Steven, looking stricken, nodded solemnly across the table from Jake. Then his brow puckered, “Hey Dad, were you going to talk to me about you dating Del?”
He let out a long sigh. “Yes, Steven I was. I still would like to. The thing is, I really like Del and I think she really likes me. I don’t want to just date her for a week or two. It wouldn’t be a fling. Now, that doesn’t mean that I’m going to marry her, I just would like to see where we could go…as a couple. I don’t want you to get hurt or be too upset if Delia and I don’t work out, but I still want to give it a shot.”
Steven stared at him for a full minute before scraping back his chair and standing up. Walking over to him, he put his hand on Jake's shoulder, like he was the dad and Jake was the kid. “Me and the ladies at the bakery have been talking about it, and I think that would be all right. Just be careful with her.” He pulled back, grabbed his plate, walking over to put it in the sink. “She’s a real special lady, Dad.”
Just then another round of retching sounded out from the bathroom, making Jake smile, “That she is son, that she is.”
*** ***
Delia laid her cheek against the toilet seat, moving in and out of consciousness, her stomach finally empty and somewhat settled. For the second time since meeting Jake she wanted to die. Not only had she been retching her guts out, but she had been getting sick with Jake— the man she had been lusting after and drinking herself blind over— on the other side of the door. Probably able to hear everything. Whoever was the idiot that decided to put bathrooms off the kitchen should be shot.
The fact that Jake was again seeing her at her worst did not escape her notice. Just then she heard a gentle knock on the door.
“Del, you all right? You’ve been in there a long time.” When there was no answer he said, “Steven's down at the bakery, so it’s just you and me at the house now.”
Delia didn’t know how she felt about that, but she definitely wasn’t reassured. Jake made her feel uncomfortable in a confusing way. Steven was a safe median.
“Come on out Del.”
Ugh. Standing, she checked her reflection in the mirror over the sink. Bad idea. Her tangled mop of curls was the least of her concerns. She looked like she had just survived the plague. After splashing some water on her face and rinsing her mouth out, she turned opening the door just a crack before sliding out. Shutting the door behind her, she leaned heavily against it, standing there sheepishly.
Jake just grinned and said, “Sally said you don’t have to go in till Monday, and I took the liberty of grabbing some clothes for you while I was down there.”
“You went through my stuff?! Ugh, Sally and Macy know I’m here?” If possible her shoulders slumped further forward. Today was climbing rank to worst day ever. Even beating out Dear John letter-divorce paper day, by the simple fact that she had done this to herself.
Jake continued without answering her, “Why don’t you go take a shower, then you can just take it easy today.”
“No thank you, I’d rather go back to my apartment to shower and change.” And die she silently added to herself.
“Sally said the power was out upstairs. No water. You might as well just stay here for the weekend.”
“As if,” she said, feeling panicky.
“Del, think about it. It’s the end of May and your studio is above a bakery. It’s hot up there. You already look rather wilted. Plus, if you stay with Sally and Macy you would be sharing a space with three other women. I’m assuming Macy’s sister Kat is staying with them.”
He arched an arrogant
brow, waiting for her answer. Kat was staying with Sally and Macy in their little apartment with one bathroom. So staying here did make the most sense, but she didn’t want him to know that. She hated that he was right.
She crossed her arms over chest, her face in a pout. Moving closer he pushed a lock of hair off her face, but she jerked away from his hand still disgruntled.
“Delia Marie Myers,” he said sternly. “You got puke on my boots. And you puked all morning in my bathroom. Steven found out firsthand why he shouldn't ever drink. If you hadn't just gotten sick, I'd be putting you over my knee right now. The least you can do is hang out with me this afternoon. If you still want to go home tonight that’s fine, but just so you know I have a guest bedroom upstairs, with a queen size bed and Egyptian cotton sheets.”
She winced, her eyes filling with tears. Her attitude dropped like a stone. She felt horrible for what she'd done. And crawling into a nice bed after a hot shower sounded like heaven. She had never slept on Egyptian cotton and wasn’t sure what it was, but it sounded exotic and wonderful. She stewed over this looking down at her big toe digging into the floor, absently chewing on her thumb nail. She felt more than a little contrite for her behavior, but she was more than a little scared about spending an entire weekend with Jake.
He let out a big sigh. “You think it over. I’m going to run to the store. The bathroom is at the top of the stairs, first door to your left. There are towels in the cabinet and I put your stuff in the guest bedroom across the hall.” So saying he grabbed his keys and headed out the front door.
She waited until she heard his truck rev up, back out the driveway, and down the road. Then she headed toward the stairs. She really could use a shower.
Once at the top of the stairs she noticed the hall was wide. The light beige walls were unadorned. There was one door to the left and two doors to the right. She peeked in the first door to the right. A table sat in the far corner with model airplanes covering it. With car posters, a diagram of the solar system up on the wall, and clothes strewn about, she knew it must be Steven’s room.