Tricky (Part 3 of 3 Parts)

 dontravis.com blog post #615

Image Courtesy of Freepik

 

Well, Dru finally got together with Alene. Now will there be blowback from her twin brother Sam? Let’s find out.

                                                                                                

****

TRICKY

I encountered no Big Brother hostility, so either Alene hadn’t told Sam about our intimate hours or he figured that was her business. In fact, the week went well.

I was recovering from the loss of my wife well enough to start work on another project I’d had in mind for the last year or so. My sister and brother-in-law’s computer system wasn’t as elaborate as mine at home, but I’d brought a pretty stout laptop with me, and between their equipment and mine, I had what I needed. California wasn’t calling, at least not yet. I wanted some more of the luscious next-door neighbor, but she stayed close to home other than weekends. School work, I imagined.

Then, as we neared the weekend, my brother-in-law organized a fishing trip. An associate of his at work had a secluded cabin on a lake not far away, and he insisted Sam and I accompany him. Sam had a Saturday class, according to Alene, so I counted on him to put a hole in that boat, but he apparently thought it was okay to skip the class. Once I was lassoed, I tried to salvage things by inviting the distaff side, but neither Bonnie nor Alene was interested. Nor was Lynne when she found shed be the only girl on a male fishing trip.

So here I was, going on a fishing trip I had no interest in. Never been a fisherman… nor a hunter for that matter. But on Friday afternoon a couple of hours before we were to leave, things got better. Chuck’s firm had a crisis on one of their projects, and he had to cancel. But instead of letting things die a natural death, he insisted Sam and I proceed with the trip as planned. Sam, it seemed, knew where the lake, and indeed, the cabin were. Apparently he’d been there before.

So about four that afternoon, I climbed in a SUV with a guy whose sister I had shagged… and who provoked erotic thoughts in my head himself, to head off into the mountains with rods and reels, and two pistols as snake guns.  In my mind, they appeared to be dueling pistols. Talk about testy!

****

Actually, the trip to the lake was rather pleasant. Sam didn’t initiate much conversation, but he answered questions fully and easily when they were put to him. As this was totally foreign country to me, I had plenty of questions. As we headed north to Santa Fe and beyond on the way to some lake called Cochiti, the landscape constantly changed from high-desert panoramas to narrower, more restricted mountain views, but it was all interesting.

The cabin turned out to be a two-bedroom log affair perched near the lake on some high ground. Somewhere during our afternoon-long dialogue, I picked up the information that the land was owned by a local Indian tribe who, in turn, leased the ground beneath these cabins for something like ninety-nine years. The fact that the property reverted to the control of the tribe, buildings and all, at the end of the lease set my teeth on edge, but it wasn’t anything for me to worry about.

We arrived too late to do any fishing, but used an excellent butane stove to cook ourselves a couple of fillets we found in the freezer. After that, we retired to the veranda overlooking the water and studied the shimmering lake by moonlight. After a while, we lapsed into a comfortable silence until Sam asked a question.

“What time do you want to get up to start fishing?”

“Dunno. Hadn’t given it any thought.”

Then he shook me. “Do fish get up early?”

“You’re asking me? Aren’t you a fisherman?”

“Nah. Last time I came up with Chuck, I spent most of the time hiking.” He eyeballed me through the moonlight. “Aren’t you?”

“Maybe once in my life when my old man dragged me on a trip. Crap, maybe we oughta head back to Albuquerque.”

“I dunno. It’s nice up here, and there’s some good hiking. We can go back tomorrow, if we decide that’s the thing to do.”

“Sounds good to me.”

We sat in some more comfortable quiet, occasionally broken by the cry of a loon—isn’t there always a loon on lakes?—until the temperature dropped enough to send us back inside.

Sam gravitated to a phonograph and started shuffling through albums. “Mind if I put on some music?” he asked.

“So long as it doesn’t blast my eardrums.”

He laughed. “I like show tunes, oldies, that kind of thing.

“More my type.”

The record he selected was a Perry Como album, slow and mellow., causing me to blurt out that his sister was a good dancer.

Better put a halter on my tongue. No telling where that would lead.

“Yeah, she is. Says you are too.”

“That so? From what I saw while you and Lynne were on the floor, so are you.”

He held out his arms and danced with himself for a moment, prompting me to lose my head.

“As a matter of fact, I wondered what it would be like to dance with you.”

He halted and smiled. “Won’t have any better opportunity to find out than right now.” He walked into my arms, but I noticed he reversed things so that he led.

At first it was stiff and awkward. Finally, he cuffed my chin and told me to relax. Then he pulled me close, and I don’t remember much after that except it felt right and natural to be in this young man’s arms. He moved smoothly to the beat of the music and hummed along with Como, carrying me right along with him.

The song ended, and he held me tight until the next one—even slower and mellower—began. I laid my head on his broad shoulder and relaxed even more, allowing our groins to press together. There was magic in the moment.

I don’t know how many tunes played before the album ended. But as the played-out record went round and round with a scratching noise, we stood looking at one another. Those green eyes reminded me of fire opals, and I felt myself succumbing to them.

“W-what happens n—” He cut me off with his lips, and I felt the kiss right down in my bones.

He came up for air and stared some more. “I dunno. What do you—”

I shut him up with my lips and pressed myself against his hard, lean body.

When we parted, he had a loopy grin on his handsome face. “You know this is gonna be tricky when we go home, don’t you?”

“That’s then. This is now.”

The grin grew broader. “Where.”

“Bedroom.”

Actually, the tricky part was figuring out who did what to whom. But we managed. In fact we managed several times over that magical weekend.

 

****

Guess Dru’s not going to have any trouble. Unless it’s deciding which twin he wants. Or can he keep both? Should he return to California or stay in Albuquerque. Like he said… it’s Tricky.

 Hope you enjoyed the story.

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.

 

 Don

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

 

Tricky (Part 2 of 3 Parts)

 dontravis.com 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.

                                                                                                

****

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.

 

 Don

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