dontravis.com blog post #613
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.
****
TRICKY
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!
A link
to The Cutie-Pie Murders:
https://www.dropbox.com/s/ambxgy7e5ndmimk/CutiePieMurders%5BThe%5D.zip?dl=0
My
personal links:
Email: don.travis@aol.com.
Facebook: www.facebook.com/donald.travis.982
Twitter: @dontravis3
See you next Thursday.
No comments:
Post a Comment