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Bryan’s Song Ch. 01

Eating Hairy

Early autumn in Indian Rocks Beach was a peaceful time. Too early for the snowbirds who routinely flock to Florida’s warmer climate. Too late for the summer vacationers. And peace was just what I needed right now. The previous six months of my life had been pure hell. Stress to the 10th degree. All because the man I married turned out to be a philandering idiot.

I’d been working as a manager in a large department store and it fell to me to close the store on a Wednesday night. Even though it was a necessary evil, I didn’t like closing. Since my husband, Ben, had switched to working third shift because of the pay differential it meant that I had to clear out of the house in the morning so as not to disturb him while he slept and it cut into what little personal time we had together. I resented his decision, feeling that we really didn’t need the extra money as much as we needed our evenings together. It also angered me that he made the choice without discussing it with me first.

That morning I spent a couple of hours at the library and then went to the gym to work out. Since becoming the store manager, my eating and exercising habits had pretty much fallen by the wayside and I needed to get back into the groove. I showered at the gym but then slipped home to change into my business attire. Though I tried to be quiet, I knew Ben was aware of my presence by the way he tossed and turned in bed. I departed quickly, stopping to eat lunch at a neighborhood diner on my way to the store.

I was dog-tired when I got home that night. My feet hurt from being in high heels all day and my brain was spinning from looking at budget reports. I peeled off my clothes and threw on an oversized T-shirt to sleep in. Wearily I staggered to the bathroom to wash my face, brush my teeth and take out my contact lenses. The day had been cold and damp so I also took a cold pill as I could feel my sinuses begin to congest. When I finally fell into bed, I hadn’t been there more than a minute before I was fast asleep.

To this day, I don’t know what woke me up. I can only attest to the fact that my eyes opened and I realized it was still dark outside. When I squinted at the clock, I was barely able to make out that it was just after 5:00am. I was about to roll over and go back to sleep when I heard a noise downstairs. Someone was trying to get in the front door and wasn’t being too quiet about it. I reached for the cordless phone by the bed but it was gone. Ben must have made a call earlier in the day and then just set the phone down where ever he ended up in the conversation. It was a habit of his that drove me nuts and now it was having potentially dire consequences.

Fear turned my mouth to cotton and it’s probably just as well that I was unable to call the police. I’m not sure that I would have been able to say anything to them anyway. My heart raced even faster when I heard footsteps climbing the stairs. Our neighbor’s home had been broken into the week before and I was afraid we were about to be the next crime victims in the subdivision. As the footsteps got closer to the bedroom, I reached under the bed and pulled out the shotgun that Ben insisted we keep there. My hands trembled and I watched the doorway. I’m not a great marksman but you don’t have to be when you’re using a shotgun at close range. A figure appeared, framed by the portal and I cocked the gun and snugged it tight against my shoulder. The figure paused for a moment and then moved again. In that instant I pulled the trigger.

A deafening boom split the air and I heard a distinct thud as a body fell into the wall and then crumbled to the floor. My hands were shaking so badly that I nearly dropped the shotgun. Once I got it safely to the mattress I reached for the lamp and almost knocked it over in my attempt to turn on the light. What I saw when the room was illuminated made a strangled scream emerge from my throat. There was Ben, lying in a bloody heap just inside the doorway.

Normally, I am the best person to have around in a crisis as I can usually keep a cool head and a calm demeanor no matter what, but this sent me over the edge. I ran around the upstairs looking for the phone for several minutes before it dawned on me that I might have more success if I could see. I cursed my decision to wait until the weekend to go into the optician to pick up my new glasses and fumbled to get my contact lenses back in. With normal vision restored, I was still running around the house like the proverbial chicken with its head cut off. It was a full fifteen minutes later when I finally found the phone (in between the sofa cushions) and was able to call 911.

That day I learned that even at 5:30 in the morning, the sight of police cars and ambulances in front of your house will generally bring out the neighbors. The gentleman who lived across the street came over when he saw me standing outside, still wearing just my nightshirt and shivering in the cold. He wrapped a big blanket around me and then stayed by my side while the police şişli escort questioned me at length about what had happened. I thank God that David was there. He was an attorney and although he limited his practice to real estate development, he knew that I was potentially in a great deal of trouble and advised me not to say anything further until I had legal counsel. At first I balked. I’d done nothing wrong and I wasn’t under arrest so I didn’t feel the need to have a lawyer. But he, in his calm but insistent way, got through to me. Fortunately, he had a friend who did a lot of defense work and Randy came over almost immediately.

I still don’t know whether that was a good thing or not. I wonder, if I’d just cooperated with the police to begin with, would they have simply ruled it an accidental shooting and gone on with their business? Was it the fact that I clammed up and got a lawyer over there within the hour that made them dig deeper? Who knows? I can only say that it was the beginning of nearly six months of hell.

Even though I knew objectively that I’d done nothing wrong and that Ben could have identified himself when he heard me cock the gun, I still carried a ton of personal guilt over his death. It was common knowledge among family and friends that Ben and I didn’t have the ideal marriage. We fought regularly and usually over the smallest of things. When it was revealed that Ben hadn’t gone to work that night and had, in fact, spent the night with his girlfriend, I was accused of having killed him in a jealous rage. Never mind the fact that it’s pretty hard to be jealous when you don’t know your spouse is stepping out on you. And the fact that I was the one who had arranged for us to see a marriage counselor weighed only marginally in my favor. In the end, I was completely exonerated but an emotional wreck. Surprisingly enough, it was Ben’s oldest sister who came to my aid and suggested that I just get away for a while.

My therapist agreed and so I took a leave of absence from my job, left the damp dreary Midwest and headed to Florida. I’d been to Indian Rocks Beach two years before with a couple of my girl friends. Something about the magnificent sunsets over the Gulf of Mexico pulled me back now that I really needed the serenity and I called the realtor who had rented us the condo. Virginia was wonderful and found a small apartment that fit my needs perfectly. Most of the other tenants in the building were middle-aged, like me or older. The odd ducks were the three young men who shared a unit nearby.

I noticed them one night as I was sitting on my balcony drinking a beer. They were cooking on a small grill and obviously having a good time. One of them shouted over an invitation to me. I had to admit that the food smelled very good but I suspected that I was at least 20 years older than they were and didn’t want to become their den mother so I waved them off and continued to watch the sun sink below the horizon.

After nearly 20 years of working full time, two of which were also spent in pursuit of my MBA, forced inactivity didn’t come easily to me. The first few weeks I spent reading. So many novels I’d wanted to read over the years and now I had the time. I’d always been a fast reader and devoured every word. But after a while, I found I didn’t even want to look at a child’s picture book. Playing gin rummy with the seniors in my building every day wasn’t that appealing but I did it just to avoid becoming a hermit.

I continued my nightly ritual of watching the sunset from my patio while drinking a beer. I only allowed myself to drink one per day and only at that time of day. I knew myself well enough that if I didn’t place that restriction; I’d end up drinking far more than I should. Most nights, at least one of the guys was out on the balcony. Sometimes they were cooking. Sometimes they were sitting and drinking as well. They always waved to me and, if they were grilling, they’d extend an invitation to dinner that I would decline.

One Friday night, as I was walking to the fridge to get my beer, there was a knock at my door. I certainly wasn’t expecting anyone and couldn’t even begin to imagine who it might be. I opened the door to see a young man holding two beer bottles. When my eyes adjusted to the dim light of the hallway I could tell that it was one of the neighbor boys.

“Hi,” he said, “Since it didn’t look like you were gonna come visit us, I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I dropped by.”

On the one hand I was a little put off by his persistence. On the other hand, he was exceedingly polite. The few times that we’d bumped into each other in the parking lot or even when I was taking out the trash, he was very respectful, said a quiet ‘hello’, smiled and moved on. I’m sure he felt that he’d given me plenty of opportunities to introduce myself. Granted, a more experienced guy would have realized that I just wanted to be left alone, but there was something about his warm, genuine smile that demanded an acknowledgement.

“Well, mecdiyeköy escort since you thought to bring along the LaBatts, I guess it’s okay to let you in,” I said as I stepped aside and allowed him to enter.

He walked all the way to the patio door before he turned around to speak to me.

“Yeah, I noticed that seemed to be your brand.”

“That’s the nice thing about the higher alcohol content of Canadian beer. Twice the buzz for the same volume,” I responded as I walked towards him.

He opened the sliding door to the patio and stepped through the portal. I wasn’t sure just where this encounter was headed. The quiet, almost bashful young man that I thought I knew was changing before my eyes; adopting a supremely self-assured and commanding presence. But since he did still have the beer in his hand and since we were on my home turf, so to speak, I wasn’t really alarmed just puzzled, and so I followed him.

When we were both on the patio, he looked around and noted how sparsely it was furnished. A single lounge chair and side table were the only functional pieces of furniture. Most of the space was taken up with huge pots full of flowers, herbs and other plants. It was one of the things I missed during a normal Midwestern autumn and winter and I was determined to have an abundance of color and scent around me now that I was in a warmer climate.

I immediately stepped back through the door to bring out one of the dining table chairs.

“It’s okay,” he assured me. “We can share.”

I looked skeptically at the lounger. “I don’t think you want me sitting on your lap and you’re way too big to fit on mine.”

He smiled indulgently at me. “That wasn’t quite what I had in mind. Come here.”

He took me by the hand and led me to the chair. First he sat down but let his legs dangle over the sides. Then he encouraged me to sit down between his legs and lean back into his chest. It was a very intimate position and one I wasn’t ready to adopt. Instead, I turned to face him and sat on the lower portion of the chair, with my legs hanging over the edge as well.

He deftly opened the two beers and handed a bottle to me. I felt self-conscious as he watched me take a long swig of mine. It was a habit I’d gotten into when I first started drinking beer. I didn’t really like the taste of the stuff so I drank it in a few long sips just to get past the bitterness. It wasn’t until later that I learned there were better tasting beers on the market, but by then the habit was ingrained.

“So,” I asked, trying desperately to find something innocuous to say, “What do I call you? I don’t think I’ve ever heard your name.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess you wouldn’t have. I’m Bryan.”

“Thanks for the beer, Bryan. I’m Debra.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You know?”

I panicked for a moment trying to determine how he would have found out. My name wasn’t on my mailbox and since it locked, there was no way he could have looked at my mail. He chuckled, as my confusion was apparent just from looking at me.

“Yeah. Mrs. Jankowski doesn’t know how to keep a secret. She told me all about you.”

Ah, one of my gin rummy friends. I should have known better than to confide in a bunch of little old ladies who have nothing else to do but sit around playing cards and gossiping. Still I wondered just how much ‘all about me’ really encompassed. Did she mention that I was a widow whose husband ‘died in a tragic accident’ (which was all I had mentioned of the incident, claiming that my grief was too fresh to talk about it) and on the verge of a nervous breakdown? Or did she simply leave it at the fact that I was not married and just wanted a vacation?

“Thanks. I’ll have to remember that in the future.”

I took another long sip of beer and then stared at him. I tried to figure out why he had taken this intense interest in me. I certainly wasn’t of his generation and stripped of my professional attire and cosmetics, which is how I spent my days here, I was very plain looking; certainly not the type who would normally have attracted the attention of a young hottie like this.

“You know, you’re missing the sunset.”

I craned my neck around to watch the sky change colors as the sun dropped towards the horizon. It was a sight that I hoped I’d never take for granted or grow to feel it was too mundane to bother with. The purples and oranges that painted the sky in such vivid color were difficult to describe and it dawned on me that I probably should bring out my camera and take pictures some time. I had told Ben’s sister about the beautiful scenery when I made my decision to move down here. Perhaps she’d like to see what I meant.

“Debra, you’re gonna get a stiff neck doing that.”

Bryan’s words made me focus once again on the here and now.

“Come on, turn around and sit with me. It’s not like I’m some sort of mad rapist or maniacal killer.”

I was still suspicious but figured that I could at least turn around. I shifted position but maintained several inches of space between our two bodies. I heard Bryan chuckle but I ignored him and took another long swig of my beer. For a long time we sat and watched the sun sink below the horizon. Even after it was completely dark and the stars twinkled brightly in the night sky; we sat in silence and watched as couples took a nighttime soak in the Jacuzzi and beachcombers walked along the edge of the water.

I gasped when I felt his hands touch my back.

“Are you normally this jumpy?” he asked.

“Only around people I don’t know.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to help you relax. You’re too tense.”

That prompted me to smile. If he thought I was tense now, I wonder what he would have thought of me six months ago. I believed I was pretty relaxed, considering all that I’d been through but he obviously didn’t agree.

“Okay, I’ll try.”

“Just give in and go with the flow,” he instructed as his hands moved to my shoulders and neck.

I nodded and tried to release the tension from my body, letting him massage away my stress and cares. I could feel my breathing slow down and become more even. I closed my eyes and listened to the crash of the waves on the beach and the call of the gulls as they flew over the shoreline. It seemed like his hands moved in the same rhythm as the waves and I could almost feel myself begin to sway in synchronization.

“That’s it,” he said softly, almost nuzzling my ear. “Relax and let go of the tension.”

A small voice in the back of my head told me to get up and walk away or I’d be getting into something I really wanted no part in but the truth was, Bryan was right. I was tense. Despite having lived in a nearly idyllic setting for several weeks, paradise had not yet washed away all the residual effects of those horrendous six months. And it felt so good to be touched by a man, even if it was simply a back rub.

It should come as no surprise that my sex life with my husband had gone south along with our relationship. As I flipped through the pages of my mental calendar, I realized that it had been nearly a year since the last time I’d had sex with him. Except for a few ‘moral support’ hugs and shoulder squeezes from my attorney, no man had even touched me since the day I shot Ben. Now I was reveling in the sensation of Bryan’s strong fingers massaging the muscles of my neck and shoulders. I could feel myself growing limp under his expert manipulations.

“Debra.”

I didn’t have time to respond before I felt his lips brush across my neck. All the while his hands continued to squeeze and release my shoulders and upper arms.

“Mmmmm, you smell wonderful; like flowers.”

He nuzzled behind my ear for a moment. “And fresh fruit,” he added. “The perfect Florida scent.”

That caught my attention. It would take a pretty sophisticated nose to identify the blend of peaches and hyacinth that scented the bath products I used. Now I was intrigued and wanted to know more about this young man. Who was he? What did he do for a living? How old was he anyway that he could put together such a smooth seduction? His actions were totally at odds with his apparent age. Once again, I tried to put on the brakes.

“Bryan,” I said, leaning forward away from him, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not? We’re both consenting adults.” He pulled me back to him. “You are over the age of consent aren’t you? I’d hate to be charged with contributing to the delinquency of a minor.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, I celebrated that birthday nearly 30 years ago.” I hoped my message that I was quite a bit older than he was would sink in and make him reconsider his actions. I couldn’t say that I wasn’t enjoying what he was doing and the thought of a roll in the hay with him was interesting but my mind couldn’t get past the age difference. Though he joked about it, I really did feel like I was corrupting a child.

He wrapped his arms loosely around my waist and was quiet for a moment. “Don’t get hung up on numbers, Deb.”

“Easy for you to say. You haven’t hit the down hill side of middle age yet.”

I felt him stand up behind me and then he was lifting me up as well. He turned me around so that I was now looking at his chest. There was no moon shining in the sky. The security light that normally shined outside my patio was burned out and I made a mental note to call the management company about it in the morning. Only the pool lights and a few tiki torches that a few residents used to illuminate their balconies and patios kept away the darkness. Bryan’s rugged handsomeness, so prevalent in daylight, was even more pronounced in the shadows.

“I don’t think this is really about age. I think you’re just afraid.”

I instantly bristled. “Afraid? Of what?”

“Of letting your hair down and just feeling free to be yourself,” he whispered intensely in my ear.

The way my heart was beating certainly reinforced the idea that I was frightened but not for the reason he said. At that moment I was very intimidated by him. The shy, quiet and friendly neighbor disappeared and was replaced by this supremely self confident and insistent young man.

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