The Good Neighbor - Bettes Kimberley A. - Страница 15

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I couldn’t be sure now if he was there or it was all shadows. I pushed it out of my mind before the kids noticed my apprehension. I went back to enjoying the picnic, back to waiting for Owen.

18 Bernie

I absolutely couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into the broad next door. I watched her sitting in her back yard with her brats. It looked like they were having a picnic. I looked at the clock. It wouldn’t be long now until I had a little picnic of my own.

I wondered what it would be like, doing her. I pegged her for a screamer and moaner, and if that was true, it was going to be a hoot and a holler tonight. I felt the bulge growing in my underwear and decided to stop thinking of her for a while. If I wasn’t careful, there wouldn’t be anything to give to her later.

I smelled my armpits. They stunk. I didn’t care, but I thought she’d like it better if I didn’t smell so much like a skunk.

I went to the bathroom, thinking about how this was going to go down. Sitting on the toilet taking a dump, I thought of what I’d wear. I didn’t have anything decent. I never needed anything decent. I never really went anywhere except the bar. And I had bar clothes. That was my least-stained jeans, a black button-down shirt that had faded to a dark grey, and scuffed cowboy boots. Surely, that’d be good enough for her. Besides, I wasn’t going to wear clothes for long.

I didn’t waste time wiping or flushing. I jumped in the shower. I remembered a time when there wasn’t mold and mildew growing in the shower. It was in that other lifetime of mine.

I never used wash rags. I just scrubbed with the cracked bar of soap, making sure to give my love nub a good scrubbing. I used the same soap to wash my hair. I grabbed a stiff towel off the floor and dried myself with it. Long ago, I would’ve used a fresh towel. It would’ve smelled clean and been soft on my skin. That was so long ago, I could barely remember what it had smelled and felt like. I didn’t care about those things anymore. I didn’t care about anything anymore.

I wiped some of the dust off the mirror to better see my reflection. I turned my face left and right, inspecting it. I could’ve stood to shave, but I didn’t feel like it. The only problem from not shaving would be the chafing of her neck and thighs. I didn’t figure she’d mind too much and I didn’t care at all. I slapped on some after-shave anyway. I rolled on what little deodorant I had left, not even picking the hairs off it. Who cared?

I sat on the edge of the bathtub and spread my legs. This was going to hurt. I used both hands, one on each side, and squeezed the boil on the inner thigh of my right leg. It hurt like hell, but it had to be done. I didn’t want to have to worry about it later.

When the boil popped open, I cussed more than a little. I grabbed the towel from the floor that I’d dried with and wiped the blood and pus on it, then threw the towel back on the floor. It felt better already.

I went to the bedroom to dress. As I walked past a full-length mirror in my bedroom, I noticed my boner. It surprised me. I hadn’t even been thinking of the broad. If I didn’t get her soon, I’d have to take matters into my own hands.

I admired myself in my reflection for a while. I couldn’t see anything about what I saw that she wouldn’t like. It was going to be a hell of a night.

I dressed in my bar clothes and went downstairs. I still had plenty of time before it was time to go next door. I went into the kitchen and rounded up some food. I was going to need my strength later. I hoped the can of vegetable soup I ate straight from the can would give me the strength I needed. If not, the three beers I washed it down with would.

I sat on the couch and watched TV, trying not to think of how close I was to getting the broad next door. I wondered if she was thinking about me as much as I was thinking about her. Had she showered? Did she shave down there? I was sure she did. She looked like the type.

Adjusting my jeans, I reminded myself to stop thinking about that. I had to save it.

I glanced at the clock. I still had a few hours. Time was going to drag by.

Maybe since I already had my bar clothes on, it wouldn’t hurt to go to the bar. But what if I got lucky? Would I still be able to do the broad? I glanced at my bulge and figured I probably could. But did I want to chance it? What if I was wrong? I’d hate to waste it on some other bimbo.

I didn’t need the bar. I had beer in the fridge. I fetched one and drank it. I went back for another, and guzzled it. I made another trip to the kitchen and grabbed two more. I had one of them down before I made it back to the couch. I made one last trip, grabbing only one beer this time. I stood at the fridge, door open, and gulped it down.

Belching loudly, I walked back to the living room and sat on the couch. I sighed and leaned my head back. I watched a cockroach crawl across the ceiling.

Maybe I’d take a little nap. After all, I was going to need my strength.

19 Jill

I lay on the couch in the fetal position. I wanted to catch Andy on his way to work. I still didn’t feel well at all. But I needed to talk to him.

I’d made his dinner and packed his lunch, as usual. I didn’t put as much effort into it as I usually did, though. I didn’t have the energy. His lunch was merely a sandwich, and his dinner was leftover meat loaf from yesterday. I knew he wouldn’t mind, as meat loaf was his favorite.

He’d fallen asleep before I made it home from the doctor. I didn’t want to wake him. I watched him sleeping for a few minutes, and I’d considered crawling into bed beside him and nestling myself into his warm arms. I had even taken a step toward the bed. I didn’t act on it, though. He needed his rest.

I made a mental note to tease him about cuddling with my pillow and went to the couch to sleep. I never slept during the day, but I was sick and drained of my strength. I would’ve slept in the guest bedroom, but I didn’t want to miss him on his way out.

I adjusted the cold, wet wash cloth on my forehead and tried to find sleep.

20 Owen

I woke at dusk. My internal clock was completely out of whack. I was confused as to what time it was, or even what day. Then, I remembered chasing Jenson with Andy earlier.

I also remembered Carla.

I rushed to shower and dress, not wanting to keep her waiting. Or me, for that matter. I couldn’t wait to see her. It felt like it had been forever, though I’d just been at her house last night.

I thought about grabbing a bite to eat, but I figured she’d have dinner waiting. Of course, if they had already eaten, I’d get pretty hungry.

I grabbed a granola bar and gobbled it down, followed by a glass of milk. That would hold me if I needed it to, and it wouldn’t make me full if she’d made dinner. That was middle-of-the-road food. I was covered either way.

I locked the door behind me and headed to Carla’s in the dark.

On the way, I thought about how I was going to get my sleep back on schedule. I was fully rested now, and I’d never be able to sleep tonight. I guessed I’d probably be up when Andy got home in the morning and we’d go to bed at the same time. This meant that I’d sleep all day and be up all night tomorrow night too. This had to stop now before it went on so long it was impossible to fix. I marveled at Andy’s ability to work swing shift. I don’t know how he did it.

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