I smiled, “She works at the Quick-Stop down the road from my cabin,” I told her. “She started working there about five months ago. I’d seen her many times. She was always friendly.”
“I’ll bet she was,” Jeannie interjected. “Did you ask her out right away?”
“No, we chit chatted,” I said. “It was flirty chit chat, but during the course of conversation she mentioned she had a boyfriend and I didn’t want to get in the middle of anything.”
“So… what happened?”
“About a month ago Toe and I stopped off at the Pinewood Tavern on our way home from work. Julie was there, having a good time with her friends.”
“Did you approach her then?”
“No, her boyfriend was there,” I explained, “an asshole named Hardy. Turns out I knew the guy; he was real bad news. He’d been to jail for assault. He was a druggie and a heavy drinker; lazy; no job… you know the type.”
Jeannie shrugged, “Fortunately, I don’t, not firsthand, anyway. But please, go on.”
“Julie had a couple of drinks and was feeling no pain. She’d also been smoking a little ganja. She was openly checking me out, I could tell. Toe and I were at the bar having a beer. Hardy catches Julie eyeballing me and he slaps her in the face, right there in the middle of the bar.”
“Wow! Did you kick his ass?”
I shook my head, “Didn’t have to. ToeJam was in that guy’s grill right away. It doesn’t matter what the offense is if ToeJam sees an injustice he inserts himself in the middle of it. Hardy damn near pissed his pants when he saw ToeJam coming for him.”
“Can’t say I blame him for that. So, ToeJam kicked his ass?”
I shook my head again, “Nope. Hardy was just fine with slapping a woman but when it came to facing a mountain man, he couldn’t hold his water. Hardy flew out the door as fast as his legs could carry him. Toe was right on his heels. I asked the barkeep for a clean rag, ice and water and went to check on Julie. Even though I’m not as big as Toe, I still take up a fair amount of space. When I got there, Hardy’s other two friends and their dates dispersed pretty quickly.”
“Was she hurt bad?” Jeannie asked.
“Her lip was a little cut and swollen and her eyes were red and puffy from crying. I sat there holding a cold-water rag on her lip. I saw other bruises on her though—her arms and neck. Her dark skin made them less visible, but they were there. She’d been through a rough time with the guy, no doubt about it. She told me Hardy made a habit of roughing her up when she was out of line, and by his definition ‘out of line’ meant just about anything he didn’t like.”
“Like checking out other guys?” she asked.
I nodded.
“So, that’s when you asked her out?” she continued.
“Nope. We talked for a while longer. Toe came back in, dragging Hardy by the hair of his head. He demanded that the man apologize to Julie. Hardy apologized and then he started crying like a little school girl…”
“Don’t tell me, I got this one,” Jeannie interrupted. “He told her he didn’t know what had gotten into him, that he loved her and never meant to hurt her and that he couldn’t live without her and it would never happen again.”
I raised my eyebrows and nodded, “Damn near word for word.”
“What a crock,” Jeannie said.
“To make a long story short, she took him back on the spot. Toe and I went back to the bar shaking our heads wondering how the hell Julie could buy that line of crap.”
“Hold on a minute,” Jeannie said. “I thought you were going to tell me how you and Julie first got together.”
“I am. The story isn’t over,” I said. “Julie and Hardy left the bar, arm in arm. Toe and I had a second beer and called it a night. We left the parking lot. Toe turned left toward his cabin, and I turned right toward mine. About three miles up the road, I saw Julie walking along the side of the road, in pitch darkness, wearing only a tank top and shorts—no coat. It was about forty-five degrees outside.”
“Jesus, did that son-of-a-bitch kick her out of his car?” she asked.
“Kicked her out on her ass,” I affirmed. “He didn’t get a mile down the road before he started in on her again. They argued; he hit her again. This time she hit him back. He reached over and opened the passenger door and pushed her out with the car still cruising. She was cut and bruised and walking with a bad limp when I stumbled on her.”
“What an ass that Hardy guy is!” she barked.
“When I got to her, she was sobbing uncontrollably. She was bleeding from various cuts and scrapes but I didn’t think anything was broken. Her hands were shaking and she could barely speak. I ended up driving her to the emergency room. Since she was stable, they made us wait, and we talked. It was then I found out she was all alone here. Her mom passed away the year before. She’d been rooming with her sister, who got married shortly before her mom died and moved to Colorado Springs. She never knew her dad.”
“So, she lost everyone around her? That’s so sad. What did you do?”
“I sat there in the waiting room while they patched her up. Hell, she had no one else. I even paid her medical bill. The next month I had to borrow money from Toe to pay the rent.”
“That was a nice thing to do,” she said.
“The hospital released her,” I continued. “She was too scared to go home that night.”
“Could you blame her?” Jeannie asked, rhetorically.
“No,” I said. “I told her she could stay at my place, that I’d sleep on the couch.”
“But you didn’t sleep on the couch, did you?”
I looked up and grinned, a little embarrassed, “No, I didn’t.”
“So, you became… a couple… that night?”
I shrugged, “I don’t know. Sort of, I guess. I liked her and she liked me. I knew I wanted to see her again.”
“What happened next?” she asked.
“Well, ToeJam and I paid Mr. Hardy a little visit the next day,” I said. “We explained things in terms we thought he could understand.”
“That’s when you kicked the crap out of him?”
“We did not.”
“Jesus, Jolly, when did you kick the crap out of him? The bastard deserved it.”
I chuckled, “True enough, but we didn’t resort to that.”
“Not at all?”
“Nope… but we told him what we’d do to him if he ever bothered Julie again. It was plain talk and we were prepared to back it up if needed. We gave him a… verbal warning… in the strongest possible sense.”
“And did he hear you?”
“He moved out of town two days later,” I said, smiling.
“I guess he heard you then.”
“Reckon so.”
“And you’ve been with her ever since?”
“We’ve been out a few times but with gaps in between—my job keeps me gone several days at a time. I liked her, though. The sex is incredible…”
I paused, realizing I’d said too much, “Sorry, that was inappropriate.”
“No. I want to know. Please go on.”
I nodded and continued, “Beyond sex, we really have nothing in common. It hasn’t taken that long to figure out. She wants to party, drink and smoke weed with friends every night into the wee hours of the morning. She smokes a lot of weed—I’m not into that. Her friends are all just like her and I worried they would get her deeper and deeper into drug use. I’m not much of a drinker—an occasional beer or two, and I’ve never used drugs. Julie hates the outdoors, and that’s the life I love.”
“So, the only thing that kept you coming back was sex?”
“Pretty much.”
“But you’ve stayed with her,” Julie said.
“It’s only been a month and I haven’t called her in a week,” I pointed out. “I saw her right before the excursion and she wasn’t even all that upset about it. The whole thing was winding down. ToeJam has his sights on her.”
“ToeJam likes h
er?”
I nodded, “He’s mentioned it more than once.”
“Don’t you think she’d be the wrong girl for him, too… for all the same reasons she was wrong for you?”
“That’d be my guess, but Toe’s a big boy. He knows what he’s doing.”
“So, you don’t think she’ll be upset when you break up with her?”
“No idea,” I replied. “I decided to tell her it was over before I left but I had a small injury and put it off. I’m telling her when I get back. I guess I’ll find out then.”
She touched my arm, “I’m sorry. I feel bad for her.”
“Me too, but I don’t believe we are right for each other.”
Jeannie nodded silently and then stared off as if deep in thought. I left her to her thoughts for a few minutes, picking up my binoculars and scanning the tree lines again. Still no signs of danger.
I sat the binoculars down. Jeannie had closed her eyes, allowing the breeze and river spray to tousle her hair. Damn, she was beautiful.
“Is turnabout fair play?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Some of the most dangerous rapids in the country are waiting for us and we’ll hit them in another thirty minutes. In the meantime, you can tell me your real story.”
She smiled, “My real story?”
“Yeah. Tell me what really happened with you and your fiancée… Kevin is it?”
The smile left her face completely.
“Be careful what you ask for,” she said. “You might not like the answer.”
“How bad can it be?”
“I don’t know. Maybe bad enough to make you run and hide.”
“I used to work around bombs for a living,” I told her. “I think I can handle it.”
She shrugged, “Ok, then.”
She paused in reflection as if she were collecting her thoughts. I waited patiently and used the time to scope out the tree lines again. I saw nothing of concern.
“Kevin was my dad’s accountant,” she began. “He was a whiz kid with numbers. I worked at Zinger Technologies myself, so I saw him here from time to time.”
“You work for your dad? I didn’t know that.”
“I work in marketing,” she said.
“Ok, go on.”
“I was single, focused on my career and not dating anyone. Kevin was personable and charming and built great—not Roger Jolly great but really good—and you already know how attracted I am to the muscular types.”
Sounded familiar.
“He was tall with dark hair and a full beard…”
Kind of like me. Was I sensing a pattern here?
“It started with innocent flirting,” she continued. “When he had an appointment with my dad, he’d stop by the marketing department to see me. Sometimes he’d bring me chocolate—my favorite thing—and sometimes he’d just stop by to talk. I was hot for the guy, I won’t lie. It got to where I was thinking about him morning, noon and night. Sorry, that sounded a little obsessive…”
She paused, presumably looking for a reaction. I didn’t show one though I was feeling one. She continued.
“One day, he stopped by and I wasn’t at my desk. He asked for me and an office nerd told him I was in the office supply room getting printer ink. He showed up, unannounced, strolling into the supply room with his hands behind his back, as casually as he could be. It scared me at first; it was the first time I’d ever been alone with him. He knew I was attracted to him. He moved closer to me.”
“What did he do?”
“He walked up and asked if I’d ever had a romantic moment with a man in the supply room. The implication was somewhat off-putting, but all I said was, ‘I don’t understand what you mean.’ He smiled and brought his hands forward. He was holding flowers.”
“Flowers?”
She nodded, “He then said, ‘I’ve always wanted to give flowers to a beautiful woman in a supply room.’ I was so relieved and it made my heart melt. I thought he was looking for some lurid stockroom sex and he was offering me flowers.”
“Sounds nice,” I said. The similarities were beginning to fade.
“The gesture took me completely off guard,” she agreed. “It was the most romantic gesture anyone has ever made to me.”
It was smooth, I thought, mentally bookmarking the idea.
“What happened then?” I asked.
“He asked me out. I said yes. He took me to one of those hard-to-get-into trendy places where there are no prices on the menu.”
Not like me… at all.
“He dressed so nicely, wearing trendy, wearing expensive clothes without being too flashy.”
Also, not like me.
“I could tell he was rich,” she continued.
Definitely, not like me. Now I knew why she was so hesitant to tell me this story.
“Are you ok?” she asked.
“What?”
“You seem distracted. Are you ok?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “The rapids are not far away. I was just checking the time and looking down the river.”
That was a lie. It was bothering me to hear about Jeannie’s hot, rich lover. Things like this never bothered me. Jealousy was an emotion foreign to me… until now. I didn’t understand why I would react this way. Actually, I was understanding it, I just didn’t want to admit it. Jeannie was used to men who were rich and powerful; men who could give her a lifestyle she was accustomed to. What could I give?
“Should I stop talking?” she asked.
I wanted to say yes, but…
“No. Please… continue.”
“We became a thing, that night,” she said.
Meaning they had sex.
“Within two months I moved in with him. I’d never been so happy. Things were perfect except for my parents, particularly my dad.”
My ears perked, “What was the problem?”
“My dad really liked Kevin as an accountant but hated that I was with him. He made no bones about it. He didn’t want me seeing Kevin.”
Maybe Chase Jenkins wasn’t so bad after all, I thought to myself.
“Why didn’t your dad Like Kevin?” I asked. “Sounds like he was smart, good looking and rich. Don’t dads like that sort of thing?”
“You’d think, but dad didn’t like Kevin after he found out we were seeing each other. He never really told me why, but I have an idea.”
“Tell me.”
“Kevin’s parents were of Middle Eastern descent.”
“The name ‘Kevin’ doesn’t sound like a Middle Eastern name.”
“Kevin was born and raised in Chicago. His parents were from the Middle East. They were very proud to live in our country and they gave him an American name.”
“So, your dad hated Kevin solely based on his Middle Eastern ancestry? Are you sure it wasn’t just because he didn’t think any man was good enough?”
“It’s the only explanation,” she replied. “In all honesty my parents never raised me to dislike anyone because of their race or nationality, so I was really surprised. There was a lot of tension at work when Kevin came around. About three months later, things deteriorated.”
Now I was more interested.
“What happened?”
“He threw more and more of himself into his work for my father,” she said, “but nothing was good enough. It was very obvious my father didn’t want to be around him.”
“Why didn’t he fire Kevin?” I questioned.
“Because I told him if he fired Kevin, I would disown him forever,” she answered. “Kevin did a good job—even my father admitted it. He agreed to not fire Kevin but in retrospect that wasn’t a good thing. Things between them became unmanageable.”
“They continued to go downhill?”
“Yes. At a certain point Kevin started to ignore me,” she said. “He treated me as though I wasn’t there.”
“What happened?”
“I was stuck between a rock and a hard place,” I sa
id. “My dad was pressuring me to stop seeing him and Kevin was blaming me for his relationship problems with my dad. We got into an argument one evening and out of the blue, he smacked me in the face.”
My jaw dropped, “He hit you?”
“Yeah, and hard.”
For the first time since she told the story tears welled in her eyes. It made me want to hurt the guy.
“You don’t have to go on,” I said.
“That’s ok,” she continued. “It feels good to get it out.”
“What did you do?”
“I got the hell out of there,” she said. “I didn’t want to go home and explain this to my parents. I spent the night in a hotel. The next day, I took the day off work. I wanted no one, especially my father, to see my face all red and swollen. I went back and packed my stuff up and was ready to leave when Kevin showed up. He had an engagement ring with him. It was huge—just beautiful.”
And probably cost more than I made in a year.
“What did you say?”
“I told him to get the hell away from me,” she said. “I was furious. I thought I loved the man, but no one ever hit me before and I wasn’t about to put up with it, not from him, not from anyone.”
“Good for you,” I said.
“I went home and when my dad saw me, he lost it,” she explained. “He fired Kevin and threatened him. It was then that Kevin’s true colors came out.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“He started stalking me,” she confessed. “He couldn’t get into my parents’ home and dad banned him from the office building but he knew my routine: where I ate lunch; what Starbucks I went to; the gym where I worked out. He even hacked my phone.”
“Jesus… he hacked your phone?”
“Yes, it was an incredible invasion of my privacy. He got into my Facebook, my messages, my email, my photos and even my personal calendar. That’s how he knew where I’d be and when I’d be there. He showed up everywhere, begging for a second chance and begging me to help him get his job back. I had to change my entire routine.”
“Why didn’t you take out a restraining order?”
“I did, but by then, the damage was done,” I said. “The whole thing was so traumatic that I thought I was going crazy. I couldn’t eat; couldn’t sleep. I was afraid to go to work—I mentally saw Kevin lurking around every corner, waiting to pounce on me. I nearly had a nervous breakdown. My parents forced me to see a doctor, thank god. The doctors put me on meds, and I stayed at home to recover.”
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