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“We are,” he slid in and then commandeered the conversation for a bit. “We are making strides. I feel good things for you when we’re together, even when you force me to listen to Fran Dresher laughing for hours on end or you play your music loudly or leave your socks on the handrailing.”
“Okay, that was just once, and they were wet from helping the gardeners mow the grass,” I hurried to explain.
“Yes, I recall your explanation. And I am sure Barnaby was quite pleased to find your sweat socks on the balustrade.”
I rolled my eyes. This guy, honestly. Couldn’t he just say railing like all the rest of us mooks? Always so proper. That fussiness used to annoy me, but now it kind of turned me on.
No, we’re mad at him, remember? No popping a boner because he irons his hankies.
To be fair, I’m pretty sure Barney does that.
Whatever. Stop being a dick. And stop thinking with yours. Let him have it! Both barrels. Give it to him Greck style. Shred him verbally. Do it!
Yeah, right, I was mad and in pain.
“Can we get back to the situation at hand here?” I asked, watching Key rounding up the oldsters as his sister Jemetta arrived at work. Seemed the Williams trio were triplets, not identical obviously since Etta was a woman, but all three were born within minutes of each other. Amazing what you learn when you jabber away at people trying to open their gym because your heart is aching. “I thought we were doing something special last night, and then I wake up only to find you ran off like Forrest Gump.”
“I did have a meeting early today,” he whispered, and I felt my ire starting to cool.
“I know, and that’s cool, but you could have left a note or something.” Great. Now I sounded like Ma. Next I’d be telling him to text when he got home and to make sure he ate enough fruit so his bowels moved regularly. “I mean, not that you got to leave a note. That’s like advanced dating stuff and we’re not dating. We’re just…”
I stumbled over what to say next because I didn’t know what we were.
“No, a note would have been kind. I was…there are things I would like to discuss with you if you are willing to speak to me privately?”
“What kind of things?” I smiled through the glass windows at Etta, who gave me a look that screamed “Why the hell are you hiding in the yoga/aerobics/jazzercise room?” to which I replied with a shrug and a wave of my phone. She didn’t look impressed, but she let me be for a minute.
“Personal things. If you would be willing, perhaps we can take a sail and talk? I can have Madame pack a basket for us. It’s a perfect day for being on the water.”
Oh. Oh shitters and knitters. On the water. Shit. Well damn.
“Sure, I love to sail.” I lied like that proverbial rug. “I mean, yeah, we can do a sail and picnic. Tell Madame to put in some of them madeleines she was taking out of the oven this morning if she would be so kind.”
He chuckled. The sound erased most of the upset in my breast, but the pain over being treated so callously remained. Yeah, I was a hockey player, and I talked big shit, but deep inside I had feelings. Most folks think I don’t, but I am human. I do bleed when cut.
“I will ask her to prepare a feast fit for a king,” he softly said as I felt my dick starting to come to life in my gym shorts. Traitorous penis. “Philip, thank you for being so gracious and forgiving. It’s not a trait that many would think you possess, but I know differently now.”
“Yeah, I got grace all over the place. See you in an hour.” I hurried to end the call before I got all gushy. Etta rapped on the glass. I saw her and about fifteen women in tights and tees waiting for me. I unlocked the door, smiled sheepishly, and then slunk to the men’s showers to scrub away the sweat and humiliation from my fifteen seconds of sparring. I had no clue how to wash away my fear of falling into the depths to meet my maker…
Someday my mouth and pride were going to get me in deep water. Oh shit, that was a really bad pun. Curse my wittiness.
***
Oh boy.
That and several rounds of Hail Marys kept running through my brain as I neared the brand new dock that was tied to a sailboat. No other way around. The boat was tied to the dock. Whatever. Didn’t matter my life on this mortal plane was about to end. By night I’d be on the bottom of Seneca Lake and they’d have to dredge me up like they did them fancy Italian statues in Call Me By Your Name. Maybe Tim Chalamet would be there. A man can dream.
I’d purposely walked from the chalet down the well-tended drive, then took the stairs down to the lake just to give myself time to run through the rosary. The boat was a beauty, no denying that. About forty or so feet long, white with bright yellow sails all tightly wrapped around a pole thingy. My knowledge of sailing was negative nothing. One didn’t get on boats much when one had the essence of a Titanic victim lodged in their soul receptacle.
If I had thought the boat was pretty, the man waiting on the dock outdid the sloop by miles. Henry was wearing shorts that showed off his toned calves. His shirt was an airy, loose, summer short-sleeved pink cotton that bared those sexy forearms well. He had some sort of rubber-soled yachting shoes on, no socks, and a hat in his hand that he was waving at me as I neared the dock. The sun chose that moment to peek out of the clouds that had begun to roll in, and it made his hair glow like polished nuggets fresh from a mountain stream. As always, he wore those dark as Hades sunglasses, even though the sky was now overcast. I stood in the shadow of a lovely new boat house that housed…boat stuff, I guess? My nautical knowledge was shabby. Phil “Landlubber” Greco. That’s me.
“Bonjour,” he said as I came to a halt on the earthen side of the dock. “Welcome. She is ready for us whenever you wish to come aboard.”
The wind was strong, pulling the boat moored to the massive dock. I smiled, looked skyward to see if maybe I could spy a sign that God was our co-skipper but saw nothing but gulls and puffs of slate.
“Looks like rain,” I called, my feet still on dry land.
Where they fucking belong! What the hell are we doing here, you moron?! Why are we challenging the sea gods like this? So you can put your dick in his fine ass?
