Thursday, August 17, 2023

Tricky (Part 2 of 3 Parts) blog post #613

 Image Courtesy of Freepik

Last week we met Drufus (thank goodness he’s called Dru), a twenty-seven-year-old widowed techie who’s gone to his sister and brother-in-law’s in Albuquerque after the loss of his wife. He’s introduced to the neighbors named Drake, whom he assumes are husband and wife. Not so. They are twins. He immediately foresees a tricky situation on the horizon.


Let’s see what happens this week.




I had the opportunity to visit with Alene the next morning when I saw her clipping rosebushes in her front yard and moseyed on over.

“Morning,” I called. “Where’s Sam?”

“Hello, there,” she said with a bright smile. “He had an early class. How are you enjoying your stay in Albuquerque?” She frowned, apparently remembering why I was here.”

“I’ve visited the state a few times, and always enjoyed my stay.”

“What brought you here?”

“First Santia Labs, and then Los Alamos.”

“Oh yes, you’re an electronics wizard, aren’t you?”

“Don’t know about the wizard part, but, yes, that’s my field. But tell me about you. Is this your home?”

She eyed the red brick house and motioned with the arm not holding a basket of cuttings. “Yes, and yes. Albuquerque’s my home, and this house is where I grew up.”

“Is there a Mr. and Mrs. Drake?”

Her smile faded. We lost our parents years ago. Our grandmother raised us, but she passed on a couple of years back. So it’s just the two of us on our own.”

Hoping to bring back a lighter air, I raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you two be living in a dorm or something?”

It worked. She beamed. “We did, as undergraduates. But we’d had enough of the social life by the time we got our bachelors. And, since the house is ours and paid for, moving back seemed the thing to do. It’s worked out well. I don’t have overnight girlie parties, and Sam doesn’t have drinking parties with his buddies.”

“Sound like a slow social life.”

Alene grinned wryly. “Yes, it does, doesn’t it?”

On impulse, I said. “Well, let’s spice it up. Not much notice, but I understand they have dancing at this spot down on Central called the Caravan. I’m not much for country and western, but music is music when it comes to dancing. What do you say?”

She absolutely dimpled. “I say I’d like that.”

“Great. They serve meals, so may I buy you dinner and give you a spin or two around the dance floor?”

“That sounds good, thank you, sir.”

With a date under my belt, I went back to let Bonnie know her devious plans might be working out a bit.


The Caravan was cavernous, loud, and rocking. On weekends, they had live bands, and this one was pretty good… meaning, they played enough slow tunes so we could close dance, and that’s what I wanted with this budding beauty. After a rare ribeye with potato and all the trimmings, we spent most of the rest of the night on the floor. Alene was a good dancer. Fit naturally in my arms, and made me proud to be seen with her. I almost missed a step when a stray through flitted across my mind. What would it be like to dance with her brother?

Alene had a Saturday class, so we didn’t stay too late, but I had a great time with her. She was smart and witty, not to mention drop-dead gorgeous. Pleasant company all around. I didn’t push things, settling for a deep kiss as I delivered her at her front door. I couldn’t help but wonder if Sam was in there watching through a window. If so, he didn’t make his presence known.

Before I left, Alene accepted another date, but told me she wanted to pick the venue and told me to wear something athletic. Then she slipped inside, leaving me to walk the twenty-five yards to my sister’s front door.

Of course, Bonnie was waiting to hear all the details and was ecstatic that we had something on for the following afternoon. She tipped Alene’s hand, cluing me that her neighbor was an avid tennis player, as was Sam, apparently. Did that mean Sam would accompany us? Wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Tricky.

Nonetheless, the next afternoon, I dressed appropriately for a tennis court and picked Alene up at the appointed time. Sam didn’t show, so that relieved my mind a bit.

She ran me ragged. I’m not a bad player—in fact, have a pretty damn good serve, especially in the right court—but I had to hustle to hold my own. After she beat me three games to one in singles, Sam and a pretty blonde showed up to take us on at doubles. Lynne, his date, was about a match for me, so the real load was carried by brother and sister. They were fierce competitors. I have to admit, I likely missed more than one shot watching Sam’s athletic figure rather than the ball. Alene was clearly displeased when they bested us in a hard-fought set.

I wondered if that hard-fought bout had cost me the rest of the evening, but Alene readily agreed to shower, change, and go with me to the Caravan again.

After we ate at the nightclub, I spotted Sam and Lynne on the crowded dance floor, but they kept their distance. Sam seemed too wrapped up in his blonde to pay us any attention.

When I kissed Alene on the porch about one o’clock that night, she held my hand and fixed me with those green eyes.

“Care to come in for a drink.”

I laughed. “Not unless it’s coffee. I’ve had my quota for the night.”

She smiled. “That can be arranged.”

“What… uh, what about Sam?”

“When he’s with Lynne, he seldom comes home until the middle of the next day… providing, of course, he doesn’t have classes.”

I beamed at her. “Lead the way!”

The coffee was delicious, and so was Alene. Sam hadn’t come home by the time I tiptoed into my sister’s front door around three a.m.


Sounds to me like he’s interested in Alene but curious about Sam. But Sam seems perfectly content with his blonde girlfriend. Stay tuned.

Stay safe and stay strong.

Now my mantra: Keep on reading and keep on writing. You have something to say… so say it!

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Twitter: @dontravis3

See you next Thursday.



 New Posts every Thursday morning at 6:00 a.m. US Mountain time. 


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