by Kipjo Ewers
“You can feel that?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“Your soul silly,” she answered. “I can feel your soul. It’s warm to the touch.”
“But I thought you could only feel me when we …”
“There’s no exact science to this you perv,” She cut him off. “It just takes the right situation and combination of things. Right now, it’s this.”
“Then maybe we should do more of this,” he leaned in whispering in her ear.
“Do you know what I miss the most about living?” She asked.
His heart sped up a bit from her question. He took a slow breath to calm himself refusing to break into tears and spoil the mood.
“What do you miss?”
“I miss being able to smell …especially you.”
“My smell?” He scoffed.
“Yeah, you have a musky smell that I just love,” she continued. “Especially when you’re a bit funky, why do you think I was always burying my head in your chest or near your underarm? It was calming for me.”
“I miss the way you smell too …” Fred nuzzled his nose into her hair. “I miss the way your hair smelled, especially when it’s wet.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I miss the smell of that fruit body cream you used that choked me until it settled in.”
“It was called Mango Tango Madness.”
“I even missed your little funky Dutch ovens …” he whispered to her.
His last comment brought on an indiscreet sharp pinch to his side that made him flinch and chuckle.
“Asshole!”
Fred withstood her pinch attacks pulling her closer to him kissing the side of her head. She settled in nuzzling her head against his chest.
“It’s not fair …that you can’t feel me.”
He used his free hand to quickly wipe away the tears from his eyes before they fell and then squinted to the point of straining his lids to ensure no more came forth.
“Yeah,” Fred cleared his throat. “But this is enough. It’s enough for me.”
He turned leaning in bringing his lips closer to hers. Mary pulled back as far as she could without being noticed realizing what he was about to do.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“What I want to do.”
“Are you crazy? We’re in public …”
“I don’t care,” he shook his head.
“Well, I do.” She snapped at him. “This crosses the line into padded cell and straightjacket world.”
“I …don’t …care,” he raised his voice a bit. “My world stopped making sense the day …”
“Fred …stop,” Mary pleaded. “We’re having a beautiful day.”
“Then don’t make this stop it,” He pleaded back.
“Fred,” she said more forcefully. “You’re going to be kissing …”
“I’m going to be kissing my wife. I’m going to be kissing …my wife.”
He felt slight resistance from her, as he Inuit kissed her nose. As much as she did not want him to do it, it would have looked even weirder for him to be struggling with a doll in public. It began with their lips hovering inches from one another, a slight touch, a peck. His heart made jack rabbit beats as they went further and further. With his eyes closed, reality faded away to his desires which Mary obliged.
Fred became primal pulling her onto his lap, while she cupped his face drinking from his lips making her tongue moist to aid in the fantasy. Their act had stopped time, and melted away the world, leaving just them on that park bench.
“Fred stop! Stop!” She rang into his ears, “Cynthia and Barbara are coming! They’re coming this way!”
Even though she went limp in his arms, it took him awhile to sober up from their make out session. By then it was too late as his eyes welcomed back in the light of the world to see a doe eyed Cynthia standing before them with a face that worn part diplomacy and part concern with her other girlfriend Barbara wearing a visibly disturbed visage.
“Hey, Fred.”
“Hey Cynthia,” he dragged out the greeting as his mind raced to think of a rational explanation for what he was doing. “Barbara.”
“Hi Fred,” Barbara answered with a nervous giggle.
“Who’s your friend?” Cynthia gently motioned.
“Uh …um … haven’t given her a name yet.” He swallowed.
“Don’t you think you should?” Cynthia asked. “Considering how close you two seem to be?”
It was a clear underline way of not embarrassing him while asking what the hell was he doing. Fred decided to deflect it.
“So, coming from shopping?”
“It’s Ethan’s birthday next week,” She smiled. “You remember your godson’s birthday?”
“Yeah, of course,” he snapped his fingers. “And I will be there.”
“Will you be bringing your little friend?” Cynthia motioned.
“Um, not sure.”
It slipped out before he realized what he was saying.
“What the hell Fred. The answer is no!” was what rung in his earpiece.
“Well just be sure to give either Barney or me a heads up. Hope to see you there either way.”
“Sure, talk to you later Cynthia.” Fred uneasily waved, “Bye Barbara.”
“Later Fred.”
They both returned the wave before taking their leave. Fred and her watched as both Cynthia and Barbara glanced over their shoulder looking back at them at least twice between the two of them before taking a left out of sight.
A mortally embarrassed Fred buried his forehead into his wife’s chest as he held her.
“Cynthia is going to tell Barney and big mouth Barbara is going to run her trap all over town.”
“Yep,” Fred huffed.
“I’d like to go home now.” Mary requested.
“Me too.”
˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜
News of Fred’s bench make out session spread like wild fire as his phone little up with calls he sent to voicemail or text messages that a perturbed Mary read out loud for him to hear.
Fred was more concerned with Cynthia telling Barney and the repercussions that would follow for the night long grilling his friend would take along with the million and one questions Barney could not possibly answer.
With working knowledge of his friend’s mind game tactics, Fred knew Barney would not confront him about the park incident right after Cynthia told him about it.
He’d sit on it, pretend nothing happened, let Fred stew, and then clobber him with it at the most awkward opportune time.
Fred had to get in front of it before Barney struck first.
“Church is still on for tomorrow at three, right? I’ll bring the rock. You just bring your silicone kissing ass.”
Fred’s eye fluttered with disgust at Barney’s text message as Mary fell out while filling the apartment with ghostly cackling sounds.
Before he could opt out of the game; Mary replied to the text message stating that he would be there and then ordered him to go.
“You need to get out the house and interact with live people outside of work,” she lectured him. “So, stop treating your best friend like crap and go play with him. I also need a little break from you.”
A part of him wanted to know what she meant by her remark but decided it was best to let it go so it wouldn’t fester into a silly argument.
˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜
The next day, as Fred pulled up to the court in the new Jeep, he could see a stunned yet approving visage on his friend’s face.
“Tell me this is not a rental.” Barney walked around inspecting it.
“Nope,” Fred answered while getting out, “Picked it up yesterday.”
“Tell me you got the Hemi.” Barney grinned.
“Five point seven V8,” Fred smiled proudly.
“Fi
nally, it’s not an SRT, but this is a huge step up from that piece of crap you refuse to let go of,” Barney adulated. “Kind of makes up for subjecting me to listening to my wife go on for an entire night about you and your little ‘girlfriend’ sucking lips on a park bench.”
A semi-embarrassed Fred caught off guard could only avert his eyes to the pavement.
“All the places you could have gotten freaky outside of your house,” Barney shook his head with fatherly disgust. “Men’s bathroom stall, a movie theater, or the back of your brand-new whip …no, you choose a park bench in broad daylight. And not just any park …you go to the park that everyone and their mother goes. Bring your ass to the court; I’m whooping several shades off you today.”
They played half court for an hour and a half. Barney trounced Fred the first game, then picked-up games three and four by using his compact size to drive up the middle for two pointers and swatting most of Fred’s shots out of the air with his baseball glove for a mitt. Fred, however, rallied back picking up the second, fifth and sixth game by spinning around his larger opponent, and firing clean three pointers into the net. By game seven both men called it quits mid game as their age crept up on them.
Barney made his barbs and jabs during the games about the incident. Some Fred took, while others he returned fire with his wit. Neither spoke earnestly on what happened.
At the end of the game, they switched vehicles so that Barney could test drive the new Jeep. Fred followed him in his HellCat as they drove to his house.
“Smooth ride and I love leg room,” Barney exited the vehicle with an approving nod. “Almost tempted to trade up, they hooked you up at the San Diego dealership. Did you see my man Brad? He works there.”
“Uh, no,” Fred fumbled while shaking his head. “This other guy assisted us with the purchase, he gave us an excellent deal.”
“Us?” Barney cocked a bewildered eyebrow. “Who else went with you?”
“Ah! Me! I meant me!” Fred chuckled while smacking his forehead. “He got me a terrific deal.”
Barney’s eyes became slits of suspicion as Fred put on an innocent face pretending as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Barney gave him a “to be continued nod” as he turned heading for the steps of his apartment.
“Uh, where you going?” Fred asked with a stutter.
“Upstairs to drain the snake of Gatorade,” Barney turned hitting him with interrogative eyes again. “Is there a problem?”
“No …no problem at all,” Fred lowered his head while clearing his throat.
He dribbled Barney’s ball a couple of times, a tactical move to remove the nervousness swirling within him, and to distract Barney who had him under a microscope. It did little to help as they headed up to his apartment with the heat of his friend’s stare on the back of his neck.
As they got to his door, Fred fumbled with his keys to buy a particular someone time to head to the bedroom before they entered.
“Any year now Fred …like before I need depends.”
“Dude, the lock is a bit sticky.” He glared back at him. “Not about to break my key off just because you have a bladder of a five-year-old.”
As Fred finally opened the door and entered first, Barney barged past him making a beeline for the bathroom.
“Jesus!”
The big man spun around shuddering. It appeared he almost went on himself as Fred entered the living room to see her in a simple green knee high floral dress purposely sitting nonchalantly on the love seat couch with her gaze toward the foyer entrance.
He gave her a quick disapproving glare while Barney recovered from being startled.
“Why do you have it just sitting in the living room?” Barney lashed out. “Shouldn’t it be on your bed, or in the damn closet?”
“She keeps me company,” Fred fired back. “And since she is the current woman of this house, she can sit anywhere she damn well please.”
Barney brandished an expression signaling that it was time to have a serious talk about Fred and his doll.
“Hold that thought,” He held up a finger before scurrying off to use the bathroom.
As Barney shut the door behind him, Fred turned to see her standing up. She tossed him his glasses as she looked down at the ground.
“Are you crazy?” He whispered while putting on his shades. “I know you saw us coming up the stairs! Why didn’t you go to the bedroom?”
He grabbed his phone to read her buzzing message.
“To repeat what you just said, this is my house, so I can sit anywhere I damn well please in my own house. Not to mention, it’s Barney.”
“You do realize, when he comes out, he’s going to grill me about the park and us?”
“And?” She folded her arms while rolling her eyes. “No one told you to put me on your lap and start tonguing me down in broad daylight like we were in some Danielle Steel’s novel. He’s coming out the bathroom.”
“You were spying on him?” Fred threw up his hands in disbelief.
“Shut up, and lose the damn glasses!” was her final message as she plopped back down on the couch.
Fred quickly pulled off the shades chucking them into the love seat as Barney walked back into the living room area. The suspicious interrogative look Barney wore earlier was back as he glanced at the doll and then locked eyes with Fred who inconspicuously slid his phone back into the pocket of his basketball shorts.
“What?” Fred asked while donning his annoyance countenance.
“The minute you come into the house you got to play with your dolly?” Barney snorted.
“What are you talking about?”
“She’s sitting entirely different from when I left the room, Fred.”
Fred slowly turned narrowing his eyes at her, not amused by her little prank. He dropped the ball on the couch right next to her as he told her with his facial expression that he was going to get her for it later.
“You want some water?” Fred turned brandishing a bright sardonic smile.
“No,” Barney shook his head. “I’d like to talk about what’s going on between you and the dummy.”
“It’s a doll Barney,” Fred fired a warning shot with an irritated tone while walking to the refrigerator to get a bottle of water.
“Whatever,” Barney returned dismissively. “Listen, I completely understand why you bought it. I’m glad to know you don’t think it’s spooked, and that you’re enjoying it in the most filthy and perverted ways possible. However, taking it outside and going on a date with it is on the fence teetering toward weirdsville man. I mean forget the fact that Cynthia caught you, what if she was there with the kids? What if it was someone other than her that saw you?”
“I’d deal with it,” Fred shrugged as he retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge.
“What do you mean ‘deal with it’?”
Fred cracked open the water and took a sip as he thought of a well-thought-out response to his friend’s question. He turned heading back into the living room.
“Look, Barney; I don’t expect you to understand …”
As Fred entered the living room, his eyes befell a sight that sent bolts of shock and rage running through him at the same time.
“What …the fuck …are you doing?”
“What?” Barney innocently asked.
He asked this question with one hand cupped on the doll’s left breast and his other hand up copping a feel up its skirt.
“Get the fuck off of her!” Fred howled charging him.
His reaction made a much larger startled Barney spring from the love seat with his hands up, while the doll slid halfway to the ground. Fred spilled his water as he instantly switched from attempting to kill his best friend for violating his wife, to helping her back up to a sitting position on the love seat.
“What? What did I do?” Barney nervously stuttered. “You forgot to clean it or something? Don’t tell me I got your jizz on my hand man. Please do not say that!”
“How dare you,”
Fred snarled at him. “How dare you fucking touch her?!”
“Dude …” Barney backed up now weirded out. “Calm down …I just wanted to see how real it felt, what’s the big fucking deal?”
“You had no right touching her! You’re married for god sakes!”
Barney stood there with a dumbfounded blank expression on his face attempting to process what was just said to him, what he believed he was accused of by his best friend.