Soon Rex would have his own place. He wasn’t ready to move out yet, though. He hadn’t discovered Alan’s secret. Rex had bugged Alan’s bedroom and the living room and learned nothing. Next he had to bug Alan’s office. He could feel Alan was up to no good in some way and Rex was determined to find out what it was.
Staying at Deena’s sometimes worked out well for Rex. Deena couldn’t afford a big apartment, but she kept the place clean and stocked his favorite gin. She also made some of his favorite foods from time to time. After having sex, Rex and Deena would stay up late watching television. She hugged him and touched him often. Rex had never had much affection as a child and he found he liked it. He was growing used to being with Deena. In fact, he began to look forward to it.
* * * *
“Two hundred bucks a month?” Deena slipped her hand in his as they left the restaurant and headed to The Wet Tee Shirt.
“Yeah. For doing nothin’ really. How many guys doin’ that for you?” Rex arched an eyebrow.
“None. You ever been in love, Rex?”
“Never found the one, Deena.” He turned to face her.
She placed her palm on his cheek and looked into his eyes.
“It’s time you did.”
Got her. Hook, line and sinker.
He smiled at her.
“You volunteering for the job?”
“Maybe.”
“You make me hard, baby.” His gaze swept her body.
“That’s not love.”
“As close as I’m gonna get.”
Deena stopped and moved into his arms. She placed a sweet kiss on his lips.
“Maybe I can change your mind.” Deena pursed her lips and pushed her breasts up against him.
She’s into me.
“Maybe you can, baby. Ain’t gonna stop you from tryin’.”
It was obvious to Rex Deena felt safer at The Wet Tee Shirt with him there as the bouncer. He never missed a day and never came to work drunk, like Benny did. He was always alert and she knew no one would give her a hard time as long as he was there.
Deena was getting good at gathering information. When she suspected a customer had something to hide, she had Raj make their drinks stronger. She slipped him twenty dollars from time to time, thinking Rex didn’t know, so Raj wouldn’t ask questions. She flirted and talked with as many patrons as she could, always looking for information to give to Rex. Every time she had a good tip, he was happy and appreciative, giving her small gifts, taking her out and making love to her.
* * * *
At eight o’clock in the morning, Alan left Rex sleeping in the guest room and went to his office where the first thing he did was count the number of women in his Survey of Western Literature classes. There were fifty-three women out of two classes of fifty students. He smiled. Surely one of those women will fail…unless she was a little friendly.
Alan was lonely. His wife, Beth had left him for her chemistry teaching assistant. Beth and Cal Dexter worked together for two semesters and Alan never had any hint they were having an affair. Beth had still had sex with Alan and seemed to be satisfied. Of course when he looked back on it, he could see her interest in affection, outside of the sex he initiated, dwindled down to nothing during the year. Her pulling away was so subtle.
Then it happened, after final exams one day in May when he came back from submitting his final grades. He’d never forget the moment…that moment of ultimate humiliation. He’d walked into their house and Beth was not there. There was no note, no message on his cell phone. In fact, he’d found her cell phone on the dresser. A sense of dread had come over him as the empty house became so quiet he could hear his pulse pounding in his ears. He had approached her closet, afraid to open the door. When he finally got the courage, he was shocked to see only empty hangers. All her clothes were gone.
Next he checked her bureau drawers. They were all empty too. Her two suitcases were gone from the closet shelves. He searched the house for a note, but found none. Beth was gone. Alan couldn’t breathe. Feeling a tightness in his chest, he sat down. He didn’t know what to do. Where was Beth? Why did she go? Was she coming back?
They had been married for eight years. Eight happy years. He had met Beth in graduate school. She was studying chemistry and he was studying English and they bumped into each other in the library. Alan liked her right away. Beth was quiet, she rarely shared her feelings. They dated for six months before Alan asked her to marry him.
Together they lived a quiet life of teaching and traveling. He thought she’d always be there. He thought they’d grow old together. Then Cal Dexter had arrived. Alan thought he was a brash young man, a know-it-all. But he spent a lot of time with Beth, discussing students, teaching methods and experiments. Beth never mentioned Cal at home, so Alan didn’t worry.
Alan checked with Jonesy, the administrative secretary and discovered Cal Dexter was gone too. He finished his Master’s degree and left, telling no one where he was going, which Jonesy thought odd. Alan knew then it was part of their plan.
Shock turned to anger. Anger turned to cold-blooded rage. He hated Beth. He hated Cal. It was three years since Beth left him, since the divorce papers arrived with still no word from Beth, since Alan’s life came apart but he hadn’t moved on. Alan was out for revenge, revenge on women and the young women in his freshman English class became his targets.
Helpless girls who had no knack for English were ripe for Alan’s cruelty and sexual advances. He spared no one, after all, neither Beth nor Cal spared him. Had they given him a chance to change? Even a reason? For three years he kept guessing what it was that went wrong, but he’d never know for sure and not knowing drove him crazy. He never heard from Beth again.
So Alan looked over his list of potential victims and decided this would be a good year with more girls than ever taking his English class. Who would it be this year? He couldn’t wait to find out.
Alan reminded himself there was a suicide he was responsible for last year. Margaret Jason took an overdose and died. The administration attributed it to some break-up with a boyfriend, but Alan knew it was because he failed her in English and dashed her hopes of ever getting into veterinary school. As soon as Alan became aware of Margaret’s death, he changed her grade to a B. He didn’t want that F, the only failing grade on her entire record, to be discovered because he knew an investigation would put him in the spotlight and he’d have to answer some uncomfortable questions.
Alan looked up the fifty-three girls in the database to check out their majors. He was looking for serious science majors and phys. Ed. majors…the ones most likely to have trouble in his English class. You had to watch out for those phys. Ed. majors, though, sometimes they turned out to be lesbians. His favorites were the pre-med majors who couldn’t write an English paper. Every time he had sex with one of them, he thought of Beth and her gift for chemistry. She could barely write an intelligible sentence, he scoffed to himself.
Rex moving into his house didn’t deter Alan. He had sex with his students in the evening, but in his office, not at home, so Rex would never know. Still, Alan worried about having him around. Rex didn’t miss much. But he paid rent, so Alan couldn’t complain. He was careful around Rex, kept his mouth shut, or Rex would move in on him like a vulture and tear him apart.
* * * *
At the neat little house on James Street
Peter had fallen in love with Lara, but she didn’t love him back and it was killing him, eating him up. He needed to go back to his position of strength, an environment where he could be in control…a bar. He called Mac.
“Hey, Mac. Where does a single guy go here for some action?”
“How the hell would I know? I’ve been married for five years.”
“Come on, Mac. Even in a town this small there’s a place.”
“There’s the Juke Box, and a topless bar.”
“Topless sounds good. Where?”
“It’s called The Wet Tee Shirt. It’s on Malone outs
ide of town, past Monty’s Liquor Store and The Tire Factory.”
“I think I know where that is.”
“Call me if you need a ride home, Pete, okay?”
“Don’t worry about me.”
After dinner with Sam, Peter got dressed for a night of tomcatting at The Wet Tee Shirt.
“Where you headed tonight, Pete?” Sam said, picking up a book and settling down in an easy chair. He watched his son carefully combing his hair in the mirror by the front door.
“You don’t want to know, Dad.”
“Where?”
“A topless bar.”
Silence greeted Peter. Sam put his book down and glared at his son.
“No women in a long time…makes an unhappy man,” Peter said, opening the door.
“Don’t go. You can patch things up with Lara.”
“A woman who goes off the deep end because I give her an innocent little kiss will never be more than a friend. I need a woman. I’m not meant for a celibate life.”
Peter walked out the door, got into the car and drove away.
As he pulled into the parking lot, he noticed there were only a few cars there.
Small town strip joint, no cars, how good can it be?
Sexual frustration forced him out of the car, and curiosity enticed him to the front door.
She drove me to it. Lara, you’re always out of reach.
He wondered what he’d find inside.
After entering The Wet Tee Shirt, Peter stopped to let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting. There was a bar on the right and a stage on the left. In between were small tables and chairs. It was eight o’clock and there were two girls wearing only tiny bikini bottoms gyrating on the stage to boring canned music.
The place was practically empty. Two guys were sitting at the bar, one, fairly drunk already ordered another drink, loudly while the other watched the women. There were four men scattered at different tables.
Peter let his eyes adjust to the dark room, then found a table not too far from the stage. He looked over the girls carefully. He wondered what Lara would look like dancing there, topless. Once she entered his mind, the brunette and redhead faded. He closed his eyes and saw Lara’s beautiful face and luxurious brown hair. He opened his eyes and let his mind soar into fantasy, until a topless waitress interrupted his thoughts.
“I say, are you drinking, buddy?”
“Sorry, sorry. I’ll have a Johnny Walker Red straight up,” he said, staring briefly at her chest, trying to get Lara out of his mind. Lara’s breasts weren’t as big as this woman’s, but he guessed Lara’s were firmer. His fingers tingled slightly at the thought of touching the sweet ballerina.
When his drink came, he drank it quickly and ordered another, hoping the alcohol would make Lara disappear. But his fantasies continued…a vision of her naked in his bed, the tops of her breasts peeking out slightly from the sheet swam in his head. He had it bad.
“Hi, there. You new here?” the brunette said as she sat down at his table.
Peter looked up. She wasn’t bad looking, but she wasn’t Lara.
“What’s your name? I’m Deena,” she said, giving him a warm smile. “Buy me a drink?”
“Sure. I’m Peter,” he said then turned to motion to the waitress.
Peter had two more drinks and Deena had one. They became chummy as Deena drew her chair closer to Peter and he touched her hand. Deena questioned Peter, trying to be subtle.
“You look familiar. Who are you here visiting?”
“I’m not visiting. I’m teaching here this year.” Peter looked down at his drink.
“At Kensington State?”
“Yup.” He nodded.
“Know Mac Caldwell?” Deena finished her drink.
“He’s my brother. How do you know him?” Peter asked, staring at her face.
“I went out with him for a while, a few years ago,” Deena said, flashing him her sexiest smile.
“He’s been married for five years and from what I’ve seen, I doubt he’s cheating on his wife,” Peter said. He narrowed his eyes.
“You’re right. It was a long time ago. You’re his brother, huh? I guess sexy runs in the family,” she said, putting her hand on his arm.
Peter flashed back to Lara putting her hand on his arm when she almost fell over. He recalled how warm her little hand was and how her touch created heat in his body.
“Hey, where’d you go?” Deena said.
“I’m here,” Peter said, trying to focus on Deena while the alcohol addled his brain.
“You lived here long?” he asked her, speaking slowly and forcing his tongue to cooperate.
“Long enough. How are Mac and his bride?” Deena said, sarcastically.
“Good,” Peter said, too tipsy to pick up on the sarcasm.
“Any kids yet?”
“Yeah. But he’s had Jason for a long time, though Jason isn’t his kid.”
“What do you mean?” Deena leaned closer to him.
“Not his bio…biology…not his natural kid. He’s got the cutest little girl, Kitty. She’s his bio…natural kid…looks just like him,” Peter rambled on.
“You mean Mac isn’t Jason’s biological father?”
“Nope,” Peter said, putting his empty glass down on the table.
“Who is?” Deena sat up straighter.
“Beats me. Mac never told me. Probably doesn’t know,” Peter murmured, resting his chin on his hand.
Mac wasn’t Jason’s biological father. Whammo! That ought to be worth something. She looked over at Rex, smiled and nodded her head.
“His tough luck. Gotta go,” Deena said getting up from the table.
“Hey, what happened? Where are you going?” Peter said, confused.
“I gotta rest before the next show,” she said, obviously lying, leaning over and kissing him on the forehead.
This was the second time he bombed out with a woman in one week. He finished his fourth drink remembering he didn’t care about Deena, it was Lara he couldn’t erase from his mind, even after four drinks. He pictured her kissing him while Liebesträume played on the radio, in bed, under the summer moon, under the orange and gold leaves of an autumn birch tree. If he closed his eyes, he could feel her lips again.
Then the alcohol hit him hard; feeling dizzy he quickly opened his eyes, realizing he could barely stand up. He fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone. It dropped on the floor and he almost fell out of his chair retrieving it. Finally he turned it around and pushed the first button.
“Mac? I’m sorry…can you come get me?” He clicked off the phone and rested his head on the table.
Chapter Six
Early afternoon in the neat little house on James Street
Peter couldn’t stand Lara’s closed window. He sat down at the piano and played Chopsticks seven times hoping it would annoy her enough so she’d open the window.
“What?” she finally threw open the window.
“We have to talk.”
“Talk?”
“Can you come over?”
“Okay, okay. Stop the Chopsticks, all right?”
“Are you coming now?”
“I said okay didn’t I?”
Lara found her way outside and up on the front porch of Peter’s house. He was waiting for her.
“Do you want some iced tea?”
“No, thank you,” she said, feeling her way to a chair then sitting down.
“Water?”
“No.”
“Okay. Okay. I want to apologize for kissing you.”
“Are you sorry you did it?”
“I enjoyed it. I’m sorry I upset you or it upset you. Whatever. You know what I mean.”
“I thought we were friends.”
“We are friends, aren’t we?”
“I guess so.” She shrugged.
“I like you, Lara. I don’t want one kiss to screw us up.”
“I’m not ready for…for…for you. This seems like the millionth time I�
�ve put my life back together since I was sixteen. Every time I think I’m okay something terrible happens and I’m at square one again.”
“I know about your parents, but…”
“After my parents died, my father’s brother and his wife took me in. I received a lot of money as reparation for the loss of my parents, like money could buy me a new set! Anyway, my other uncle, Brandon Stewart, squandered much of the money then took off. That’s when my mother’s brother, my uncle Jim, took over. I took more control of my life, moved into my own apartment when I was twenty and was getting my life together.
“I don’t remember all of what I was doing, but I know I was making progress, growing up on my own. Then Keith died…and this happened.”
“Now you don’t want to fall in love?”
“I’m trying to get my sight, my memory and my life back. That’s enough.”
“Maybe love would help you?” Peter coaxed.
“Maybe. And maybe I’ll get dumped and…disaster again.”
“What if you didn’t get dumped?” Peter asked.
“My optimism went out the window with my luck. I have no way to work, no place to live. Peter, you’re my best friend. What if love screws that up? Then I’ve not only lost a lover, but a friend too. Can’t we continue on the way we are?”
Peter laughed. He never had a woman say she wanted to be friends with him before. He knew he was being selfish and Lara was right.
“I see your point. But don’t shut me out, okay.”
“You mean, like the closed window?” she asked, a smile playing at her lips.
“Closed, shut for three days.”
“I promise I won’t do it again.” She stood up, keeping one hand on the chair back.
“Want to make up over ice cream tonight?”
“Ice cream is so messy.” She made a face.
“Cones, no spoons. I’ll get you at eight?”
“You’ve talked me into it.”
Peter took her hand and helped her to the door. She insisted on finding her own way home. He stood in the doorway, watching her to make sure she was safe.
Now & Forever 3 - Blind love Page 7