by Bijou Hunter
“No, it’s not, you stupid bitch,” Miranda says and hangs up. “There, now you can get to know your club brothers in the way you knew your Army buddies.”
“Thanks, but won’t you miss me when I’m off on my fun run?”
Miranda frowns for a few seconds as if she hadn’t thought this far ahead. Exhaling softly, she shrugs. “Sure, but Pop does stuff without my mom. Then he comes back, and they lock themselves in their room for so long that we worry about their health.” Miranda pauses to shake her head in disbelief while she remembers her fucking parents. “The point is I want you to have more people special to you. You seem lonely.”
“I’m not, though.”
“I don’t care what you say. I only care what I think, my belief is you’re lonely.”
Grinning, I study her sweaty face. She gets more beautiful the longer I know her. Usually, women lose their hotness once the newness wears off. Like a beautiful mountain view that grows more average with every day you see it. Miranda possesses a face I could spend a lifetime enjoying.
“River isn’t a bad leader, by the way,” she says, patting both my cheeks before turning her focus to the cooler. “Mom says he’s accustomed to bossing people around since he’s the oldest of eight. She also suspects he misses everyone thinking the same as him. So many of his siblings are copies of his parents.”
“She told you that, huh?” I ask while she hands me a cookie.
“Of course not. Mom and Pop don’t talk club stuff around me. I’ve always been sneaky, and I lurk a lot. That’s why Mom got rid of the curtains in the house. I would hide behind them. They’d call my name searching for me, but I wouldn’t say anything.”
“Why exactly didn’t you say anything?”
“To be honest, I don’t think you’d understand,” Miranda says before resting her flushed cheek on my forearm as if she needs a nap. “Did you ever hide as a kid?” she asks, and I nod while caressing her forehead. “Remember how you had to calm yourself so you wouldn’t giggle or breathe too loud? That’s what I’d do as an adult. Then I get so focused on not making noise that I can’t force myself to make noise.”
“You’re right. It doesn’t make sense.”
“You were a normal kid, weren’t you?” she asks, lifting her head to give me a disapproving scowl. “Being typical felt rewarding to you, did it, champ?”
I slide my fingers up her bare back and over the few straps I find on my journey. My hand disappears under her thick hair and curls around her neck. Miranda watches me the entire time with her eerily dark eyes, and I can understand why people aren’t sure if anyone’s at home when she looks at them. She’s perfected her dead-eyed stare, both seeing me and looking right through me.
“I’m getting downright fond of you,” I say after gazing at her for far too fucking long.
Miranda leans forward and nuzzles her nose against mine. “I’m not playing with your ding-a-ling anymore today.”
“That’s not why I said what I said.”
“I know, but I’m uncomfortable with those feelings you’re talking about. I’d rather distract with lame jokes and lots of babbling babble.”
“I prefer to distract with kisses and by coping a feel,” I say, and Miranda immediately climbs onto my lap.
“No ding-a-ling,” she whispers against my lips. “Just kissing and mild dry humping until I’m flustered. Then I’ll ditch you and she-bop in my RV.”
“Why, oh, why, do you say things that make my dick hurt when you claim you don’t want my dick involved?”
Miranda rests her arms on my shoulders while settling into my lap. “I don’t know what I’m doing with you. This is all new, so my ideas are bound to blow stinky chunks, okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper and lift my lips to her waiting pouty ones.
My entire life I didn’t want much. Satisfied with crumbs, and content with solitude, I was a wholly different man from the one who now can’t get enough of Miranda, her kisses, and the way she views the world.
THE ODDBALL
Whether from the humidity or my horniness, my afternoon with Quaid leaves me exhausted. After a long, she-bop-heavy shower, I climb naked onto my queen-sized bed and collapse on my stomach with my limbs in a starfish configuration. My skin hurts from the excessive friction I forced upon it with Quaid. Hoping to cool off, I remain very still and wait for the air-conditioning to chill my body. The RV’s system is nowhere as powerful as in my parents’ house, but it finally does the trick. I doze off into a dreamless sleep until Colton bangs on my wall to tell me dinner’s in ten minutes.
“Fuck off, Farmer Ted!” I yell, using the insult my sisters and I pinned on Colton after watching “Sixteen Candles” years ago.
“What?”
“I said I love you!” I cry once my mouth is no longer obstructed.
Colton grumbles, “Gross” before walking away.
Grinning at his reaction, I roll out of bed and locate clean clothes from the built-in dresser under my mattress. I choose the red T-shirt Mom bought me on our last trip to Branson. Despite the heat, I slide on a pair of loose sweatpants to hide my thighs’ friction burns. Pop doesn’t need to see something that’ll turn his blond hair gray. Or worse, cause him to ask me questions I don’t want to answer.
Inside the house, Mom and Lily stand in the kitchen discussing chili recipes. I’m immediately struck by a terrible case of déjà vu. I could have sworn this was the exact same conversation they were having last week.
I don’t join in their discussion, just like I didn’t last week. Instead, I set the table with the plates Mom and Pop brought back from their trip to Santa Fe. My parents go away for their anniversaries to ensure they keep plenty of spice in their relationship.
“We made our own pots,” Mom said after Santa Fe.
Giving Audrey an exasperated frown, Pop shook his head. “We spent a thousand dollars to stay in a fancy fucking resort only to be given a list of expected activities that end up feeling more like work than a vacation. Quite the racket they’ve got going.”
Audrey nodded at Pop who smiled at their shared understanding of how other places sucked. To them, only Ellsberg was truly paradise. Of course, that was before my little sister married a giant, moved to Tennessee, and got pregnant with a baby that’ll likely leave a Grand Canyon-sized hole on its way out of the birth canal.
“Came by your RV earlier,” Pop says while I finish setting the table. “You weren’t around.”
“If I were around, I would have seen you.”
“It wasn’t your work day, and that silly bike of yours was parked next to the RV.”
“No,” I say because that’s what I always say when I don’t want to answer people.
“So where were you?”
“At the river.”
“Our river?”
“Yes.”
“Did you walk there alone?” Pop asks, crossing his arms angrily because he knows where this conversation is going.
“No.”
“Who were you with?”
Finishing with my fork/knife design, I turn to Pop and pat his shoulders. “I was with that biker man I told you about. We tried swimming, but the current was too fast. Afterward, we ate and talked about our feelings. Well, mostly I talked about my feelings, and he nodded. You know how men are.”
Pop studies me with his chocolate-colored eyes. As the seconds tick on with him staring at me, I find myself hoping we’re having a cake with dinner. Chocolate like Pop’s eyes would be best, but any cake will do.
“Alright then,” Pop says finally and sits down in his chair.
While Mom and Lily sit too, Colton carries the serving dishes to the table. He arranges them haphazardly, forcing Lily to fix what she perceives as broken. Even after my brother sits, I stand next to the table and enjoy the sight of my siblings fighting over where the food ought to be.
“Sit down, Rando,” Pop says before smacking Colton’s hand away from the potatoes.
I obey my father while snicker
ing at Colton’s reaction to getting slapped.
“I love you,” I whisper to Colton who rolls his eyes.
“Pop, do you think Colton loves me?”
“Colton, tell your sister you love her.”
“You know she’s fucking with me, right?” my brother demands.
“I know nothing,” Pop says with a deep sigh. “Just do it so we can enjoy dinner.”
Colton turns toward me at his right. I smile immediately, enjoying how annoyed he looks about something so simple.
“You can whisper it if you want,” I tell him.
Colton leans over and says in a barely audible voice, “I love you.”
I move closer until we’re close enough to kiss. So quietly that only he can hear, I whisper, “Suck it, shit for brains.”
“Pop, she’s fucking with me.”
Mom reaches for the plate of chicken and smiles. “How was everyone’s day?”
Lily mumbles something about angry customers. Colton grunts he doesn’t know. Pop shoots a dirty look at his mini-me, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re wrestling on the ground before the end of dinner.
“Rando was at the river with Quaid,” Pop says to Mom who pretends she hadn’t even been super curious. I never love my mom more than when she lies poorly.
“What’s Quaid like?” she asks.
“He’s a biker from Shasta. He smells like black licorice, and Pop-Pop used to eat black licorice. He has an ugly dog who doesn’t like having an owner.”
“How long does he plan to stay in Ellsberg?”
“That’s up to Pop.”
“I’m not his president,” my father says, shrugging as if disinterested by the entire conversation. He’s much better at lying than Mom but loses some of his skill when irritated by his daughters potentially getting laid. He still growls too much on the phone with Audrey.
“River will listen to you.”
“Don’t force Pop to be in charge of your love life,” Colton grumbles.
Pop levels a dark gaze at his only son. “Never use the term ‘love life’ when speaking about your sisters.”
“What would you prefer? Maybe I can say you’re uninterested in her fuck toy.”
“Don’t make me pound you, Colt.”
After my brother waves off Pop’s threat, Mom smiles at me. “I’d like to meet Quaid.”
“You already did.”
“True, but unfortunately, I don’t remember him well.”
“I didn’t remember him at all. He lurks.”
“Like a serial killer,” Colton says immediately as if he’s been waiting to use that insult.
“How come Farmer Ted can talk shit about club guys, but I can’t?” I ask Pop. “Is the answer misogyny? It is, isn’t it?”
“I’m in the club,” Colton says, leaning over to nudge me. “You’re not.”
“Only because my vagina keeps me from joining. See what I mean?” I ask, taking a bite of chicken. “Misogyny.”
Pop glares at Colton because he doesn’t want to glare at me. Meanwhile, Mom works her softer touch on me to get more details about Quaid, but I act like eating makes me deaf.
“I have news,” Lily says, finally breaking the silence.
“Getting porked?” Colton asks.
Pop is out of his chair in an instant. Just as quickly, my brother bolts for the back door. I watch them disappear around the corner of the house before focusing my gaze back on Lily.
“What’s your news?” Mom asks.
“I’m looking to buy a duplex in town.”
“No,” I grunt and then shrug when they frown at me. “That’s what Pop would say if he were here.”
“Yes, probably,” Mom says before asking, “Where’s this duplex?”
“On Summer Street. Not far from the college. It’s an old Victorian renovated into a duplex.”
“What shape is it in now?”
“Decent. The problems are cosmetic, mostly rough care from the college kids who’ve rented it over the years.”
“Would it be an investment property?”
“Yes, and also I’d live in one of the units.”
Mom knew this announcement was coming, but she still looks as if someone took a steaming dump in her plate. She hasn’t really gotten over Audrey moving to Tennessee with the giant man. Now I live in the driveway, and Lily is moving out. The poor woman will soon be left with only her stinkiest child.
“I thought it was time for me to live on my own,” Lily says while Mom stares sadly at her plate. “This way, I won’t get buried under a mortgage.”
“You’re smart,” I say, standing up and walking to Mom. “You raised her to be smart.”
“Thank you, baby.”
Mom hugs me tightly against her, and I nuzzle my face in her chest. “Lily is way too old to live at home,” I whisper. “People are beginning to talk.”
Remaining silent, Lily grinds her fork against the plate.
Ignoring my sister’s quiet rage, Mom caresses my head. “I know you’re adults, but I need you close.”
“Even Colton?” I ask, smiling up at her.
“I’ll miss him the most. Without my boy, who will I clean up after?”
“With all that free time, you could get a hobby,” I suggest before walking over to Lily and hugging her. “I won’t miss you since I rarely see you anyway.”
“You’re sweet.”
“I know.”
“I’m glad you met someone.”
“Are you jealous that Quaid is better than your dumped dentist?”
“No.”
Studying her face, I accept she’s telling the truth. Of course, now I’m suspicious about why she isn’t jealous. I remember how she sulked after Audrey got married. Lily’s biggest dreams are to have a man and kids. Her dull, small dreams got pissed when she fell for a boring dentist with a low sperm count. Now he’s gone, and she’s alone, yet curiously she remains content about this fact.
“There’s someone out there for you too,” I whisper. “Someone with powerful sperm and a mighty head of hair.”
“You need to invite Quaid to dinner,” Lily says, causing me trouble as payback for messing with her.
“He doesn’t believe in dinner.”
“Really?”
Returning to my seat, I ignore Lily and instead smile at Mom. “Quaid and I are going to the movies tomorrow and then out to dinner. You can track my phone if you want to keep an eye on us. You know, rather than having Pop send idiot Jim-Bean and his idiot son.”
“You should bring Quaid to the house before the movies,” Mom suggests.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Pop will growl, and Colton will say something stupid, and Lily will try to seduce Quaid with her giant lips. It’s just a dumpster fire in the making, Mom.”
“You have giant lips too,” Lily says through clenched teeth while flashing me the grimmest smile this side of Psycho Town.
Frowning at my sister, I wonder if a lack of sex has broken her brain and made her dangerous. I don’t think she ever got the hang of she-bopping herself. I know Audrey didn’t, and that little woman was a ball of tension until she got laid. Should I find someone for Lily? No, no, men are the worst, and I can’t pick someone to fuck my sister. The poor sexually repressed biddy is on her own.
“Think about having him drop by,” Mom says before glancing to the side door where Pop and Colton enter. “Or your pop and I could meet you two somewhere for dinner.”
Nodding, I can think of a few places with food so good Pop might get distracted from growling. The man enjoys a good chicken fried steak. I consider a plan where I associate Quaid with Pop’s favorite food. That way, every time Pop sees Quaid, he’ll subconsciously respond as if eating comfort food. It’s so simple a plan that I’m surprised Audrey never put it in motion when she fell for her monster-sized man. Unlike my little sister, I plan to be proactive by ensuring Pop and Quaid bond in the most perfect way.
THE OUTSIDER
/> Miranda sends me a one-sentence message every half hour. She wants to run her fingers through my hair. I hogged the chips. She thought about me while she-bopping. I might be more trouble than I’m worth. She might want to sneak into my tent tonight and rub up against me. I should probably leave Ellsberg without saying goodbye since she didn’t think she was in the mood to date. She called out my name while she-bopping in the shower.
Every notification makes me smile. I especially enjoy when she asks if her last message was a negative or positive comment because she lost track and she can’t figure out how to find her sent messages. I tell her she owes me a happy one, and she responds by sending me a close-up shot of either her lips or possibly the bend of her knee. Either way, I appreciate the effort because I’m bored out of my fucking mind while sitting by my tent in the sticky evening.
An hour ago, Vaughn and Raven took their youngest blond children to an outdoor showing of “Road House.” They offered for me to join them. Even if I had any interest in watching an old movie surrounded by half-drunk rednecks in a painfully hot evening, I sensed they didn’t want me to come. I don’t blame them. I’m a stranger, and they wanted to hang out as a family.
It’s been too damn long since I’ve experienced closeness like that with anyone. Now I have Miranda.
And she comes with family. One of whom arrives at the farmhouse just before sunset. I sit on the back porch of the yellow farmhouse and stare at the pigs snorting at each other. They stop for a minute when the Harley arrives. Once the engine falls silent, they return to harassing each other.
“Where’s Vaughn?” Cooper Johansson asks as he rounds the corner of the house.
“Watching ‘Road House’ with his family,” I say, remaining dead still in the dreadful heat. “Are you here to see him or me?”
“You, asshole.”
Smirking at his tone, I mutter, “Forgive me if I don’t curtsy, boss man. It’s too fucking hot to do more than breathe.”
“Why don’t you go inside the house then?”
“Never got invited inside this evening and it wouldn’t be my place to invite myself.”
Cooper glares at me, working up a whole lot of effort into intimidating me with his dark gaze. None of his silent threats can compete with the brutality of the summer humidity.