by A.R. Wise
* * *
Rachel had retreated to the bedroom to change into a pair of flannel pajamas. Alma and Paul had been gone longer than they expected, and Rachel was getting tired. She came back to find Stephen and Jacker playing a videogame.
“Oh crap.” Rachel sounded disheartened as she plopped down next to her husband. “Looks like I lost you two for the night.”
“Nah,” said Stephen, although he didn’t look away from the screen. “I just wanted to prove a point to our new friend here.”
“And what point is that?” asked Rachel.
“That I could kick his ass at Call of Duty.”
“And how’s that turning out for you?” asked Jacker.
“Don’t get cocky. There’s still plenty of time left.”
Rachel put her hand on Stephen’s thigh, but he writhed away from her and moved up to sit on the edge of his seat. “I hate this damn game,” she said and crossed her arms.
“Don’t worry,” said Jacker. “It’s about to be over.”
Rachel heard dogs start to bark and Stephen leapt up and yelled, “Fuck off! Are you serious?”
“What’s going on?” asked Rachel before she saw Stephen’s avatar get mauled by a dog.
“Who let the dogs out?” asked Jacker as he set his controller down on the coffee table.
“Oh wow,” said Rachel. “I didn’t even know this game had dogs in it. I’ve never seen you do anything like that.” She coyly leered up at her husband.
He grimaced, but tried not to let Rachel’s goading annoy him. He pointed at Jacker and said, “That’s bullshit. You were camping.”
“Call it what you will, my friend,” said Jacker. “I call it winning.”
“I want a rematch.” Stephen pointed at Jacker’s controller on the table.
“No!” Rachel swiped the game controller off the table and snatched the battery pack off the back of it. “Game over. I don’t want to sit here all night watching you two play video games.”
“Then what do you want to do?” asked Stephen. His tone started off like a petulant teen, but then changed as he decided not to pick a fight with her.
“I don’t know.” She pulled her feet up onto the couch, under her butt, as if nestling in for a long chat with a girlfriend. “Let’s just talk.”
Jacker and Stephen both groaned simultaneously.
“What?” asked Rachel, amused by their dour faces. “What’s wrong with talking? I’d like to get to know the guy that’s going to be driving us around for the next few days.”
“I’m getting a beer,” said Stephen with a defeated groan. “Who else needs one?”
Jacker raised his hand and then Rachel asked for one as well.
“So, Jacker, how’d you get that name?”
The big guy snickered and ran his hands through his shaggy, curly head of hair. “That’s a complicated story. The short version is that I’m a computer nerd. Have been ever since I was a kid.”
“Did you grow up with Paul and Alma?”
“No. I met Paul just this year, at the tattoo place near his apartment.”
“What was it that made you two start hanging out?” Rachel’s questions came quicker than Jacker was prepared for.
“I don’t know. He’s a nice guy. We just sort of started hanging out a lot.”
“Okay,” said Rachel. “Do you ride a motorcycle like he does?”
“No.”
“Do you get a lot of tattoos?”
“Jesus,” said Stephen from the kitchen. “Give the guy a break, Rachel.”
“What?” she asked as if defending herself. “I’m just trying to get to know him.”
“No you’re not,” said Stephen as he brought Jacker a beer. “You’re going into reporter mode. Stop it.”
“It’s okay,” said Jacker. “I’m sure it’s weird to have some stranger staying at your place right before hauling you through a couple states. I don’t mind answering a few questions.”
“See.” Rachel was quick to stick her tongue out at her husband. “So, do you have a bunch of tattoos hidden under that shirt?”
Jacker was wearing a long sleeve, black shirt with a band name that Rachel didn’t recognize. He pulled the sleeves up to reveal bare arms. “Nope. I never got a tattoo.”
Rachel was surprised and furrowed her brow. “Then how did you meet Paul at a tattoo place?”
“My friends hang out there,” said Jacker quickly.
Rachel adjusted her position as Stephen sat down beside her. He handed her a bottle of beer and then the glass that she’d left on the kitchen table from earlier. She started to pour the beer, but then Stephen took it away from her claiming that she wasn’t doing it right. She ignored his tutorial on properly pouring the beer and continued talking with Jacker.
“So what about Paul and Alma?”
“What about them?” asked Jacker.
“Alma told me how they’ve been an on-again-off-again couple ever since high school. What do you think of their relationship? Is it healthy?”
“Good Lord,” said Stephen. “Did you really make us stop playing Call of Duty to talk about relationship crap?”
“Yes.” Rachel slapped Stephen’s knee. “Now shut up and let us talk.”
“Today was the first time I met Alma,” said Jacker.
“Oh really?” asked Rachel.
“Paul talks about her a lot, but they’ve been broken up ever since I’ve known him. He’s been working up the courage to ask her out again.”
“No kidding? So he’s been pining for her all this time? That’s sweet.”
“Sweet or super creepy,” said Stephen, which earned another slap on the knee from his wife.
“It’s romantic, not that you’d know anything about that, asshole.”
Stephen groaned and shook his head. “Please. I’m a fucking Casanova. All my girlfriends say so.”
“Ha, ha,” said Rachel blandly. “Very funny, jerk.”
“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone more in love with another person in my whole life,” said Jacker. “Paul was a mess when I met him. I kept trying to convince him to forget about her and move on, but he was determined to win Alma back. I figured he’d get over it after a few weeks, but he didn’t. I’m happy that everything worked out like it did. He deserves a chance to show her how much he loves her.” Jacker spoke as if lamenting an old, lost friend. There was a distant sadness in his words.
Rachel scooted over to the side of the couch to be closer to the loveseat that Jacker was sitting on. She put her left hand on his arm and then clasped his hand with her right. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, sure,” said Jacker unconvincingly.
“Thinking of your girlfriend?”
Jacker shrugged and didn’t look at her. “I guess.”
“Then don’t,” said Stephen as if that was the simple answer. “All you need is a super hot girl to give you the right sort of attention and you’ll forget all about her.”
“Ignore him,” said Rachel. “It’s okay to be sad. I can’t imagine how tough this week has been for you.”
“It’s been shitty.” Jacker continued to avoid eye contact and he tightened his grip on her hand.
“Here, honey,” said Rachel as she got a box of tissues off the coffee table and handed it to the big guy.
“Oh crap,” said Stephen. “Hey, Barbara Walters, stop making our guests cry.”
“Shut up, Stephen.” She gave him a dismissive wave.
Jacker chuckled as he took the tissues and wiped his eyes. “He’s right. You’re pulling some sort of chick-flick voodoo on me. The last thing I wanted to do tonight was start thinking about Debbie.” He laughed uncomfortably as he wiped his eyes.
“Give the guy a break, Rachel,” said Stephen.
“Okay,” said Rachel. She moved back down the couch, away from Jacker, and back into Stephen’s arms.
“I need a shot,” said Jacker. “Do you guys have any hard liquor in here?”