Groovin' On A Sunday Afternoon part 2
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A/N: What's this, another update in less than two months? Surely the author has lost his mind or has decided to quit being a lazy bum and work some.
Thank you Story Painter for the help, advice, and the gentle kick in the butt about using something called grammar. I had never heard of that before, but I am intrigued by it and plan to use it again sometime. For now on with the story and after a few more words you may or may not want to read.
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The morning had turned into a beautiful summer day in Seattle. It was cloudless and the temperature had settled in at eighty-six degrees with just a trace of wind, causing a sweet and gentle breeze to blow. As they made their way down the street, Mutt stood tall, head up, chest out, and strutted like the cock-of-the-walk. He looked from side to side, checking out sounds and smells, always turning back to check on his humans. The tall, dark headed man was quiet but seemed very strong. He seemed to be in charge, but he didn't seem to know it. As he had slept in the floor of the man's room the night before, Mutt had heard the dark haired one snore lightly, but it, didn't bother him at all. In fact it soothed, him and he knew he was safe and had a home.
The small light haired woman was tougher, maybe even stronger than the dark headed man, but he could tell that she was very kind and loving and didn't want everyone to see. He also knew, with instincts that only a dog could have, that the two of them belonged together. Even when they were apart he could tell they were together in spirit.
He turned his head and noticed that they were walking so close that they were almost touching. The smiles they both wore said more about what they meant to each other than any words they might say. He thought that they looked as comfortable with each other as he was with both of them.
He rounded the corner and there before his eyes was the Promised Land, the paradise that all dogs seek:
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THE PARK!
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His nostrils flared as scents of all kinds drifted in the slight breeze. He stopped and turned to look at his humans, giving them his best dog smile, jumping and hopping like a jumping bean; the excitement so overwhelmed him.
"Well, someone is ready to play hard," Freddie bent down and scratched Mutt's back and ears.
"Yeah, and Mutt wants to play too." Sam lightly slapped the back of Freddie's head. "You're it!"
She took off at a dead run and was almost halfway across the street before Freddie, with Mutt, who was barking, began to charge after her.
"I'm coming for you, Puckett, there's nowhere you can hide," Freddie shouted.
"Catch me first then talk shi…" Sam suddenly became aware that she was surrounded by children. "Stuff, Fredoronie!"
"Lips flapping and tongue wagging, but I can't hear a word you're saying," Freddie shouted as he and Mutt turned behind a large bush, disappearing from Sam's view.
She kept running, cutting off to her right and running straight into Freddie and Mutt, both of whom were smiling, and falling back on her behind.
Mutt barked and then walked up and licked her face as she petted him. She looked up at Freddie and smiled, "You gonna help me up or just stand there and stare at me?"
He said nothing; he just stood there looking at her with a strange expression on his face. Sam's eyes caught his and suddenly she was very aware of the fact that his t-shirt was tight over his abs and that his arms were huge and powerful looking. For a brief second her eyes played over his crotch, and she thought about what was behind the zipper and, how she really wanted to know.
Silently, Freddie extended his hand down to her and she took it. He pulled her up with little effort and she bumped into his chest. Her tiny hand looked lost inside of his larger one and to her surprise neither of them let go.
"Guess I won that time, didn't I, princess?" Freddie's voice was low and she could feel the rumble of it through his chest and into her own, and she felt something else, something she couldn't identify, but it made her very aroused and scared at the same time.
They were mere inches apart; she could see the pulse line in his neck moving as the blood pumped through it and felt his breath on her face. The breeze floated in and for just a second, but it felt much longer; she began to rise up on her toes, and they both began to tilt their heads and lean in.
Mutt chose that exact moment to decide that a butterfly, winging its way on the cool afternoon breeze, was worthy of his attention and in fact should be chased down. With a mighty heart and adorable, if slightly squeaky, bark he leapt into action and gave chase, tugging on the retractable leash and jerking Freddie's hand and breaking the mood and the moment.
Freddie turned to look at the little pup, chomping at the bit to catch his prey, and chuckled. "Easy there, killer, what's got you all worked up?"
Sam slowly lowered herself back down till she was flat on her feet again. She was very aware of the fact that she had missed the chance to kiss Freddie, but still couldn't put her finger on just exactly where her head was at; she just knew that something major had shifted, and her life was about to change, perhaps forever, and it scared her down to her core.
She laughed when the large, beautiful butterfly swooped back toward them, and Mutt began to leap and snap at it like it was a toy, his squeaky bark making the whole scene that much more comical.
"Does Momma's little boy want to play with the butterfly?" she bent down and scratched his back, at least tried to as he danced and hopped around after the butterfly in gay abandonment.
"Do we dare take the leash off and let him run?" she asked.
"I think he'll do okay if we do; we'll just have to keep an eye on him," Freddie nodded as Sam removed the leash.
With the sound of the leash being unclipped, Mutt looked at his two humans, gauging what it meant, and with a bark and machinegun wagging of his tail leapt after his prey with the joy that only a puppy or a child could understand.
Sam and Freddie walked slowly behind as Mutt gave full chase to the butterfly. They walked so close that they almost touched, but not quite. Both were lost in their own thoughts, so much so, that when they took each other's hand they didn't notice. They didn't speak at all and were both comfortable with, indeed enjoying, the silence, and the ease they felt between them about it. They both knew that silence between people could be very uncomfortable even creepy sometimes, but they felt none of that.
They walked to the edge of the sandy playground area. Mutt had, by now given up on the butterfly and was chasing a bright leaf that had been caught in the breeze. They released each other's hand, once again with no mentioning of it, and sat down on two of the twelve swings on the bright orange swing set to watch Mutt and the leaf.
"So, are you worried about your talk with Tara tonight?"Sam asked in a mild tone.
"Only to the point of throwing up," Freddie shook his head like a doctor who had to tell someone that a loved one had died. "It really didn't hit me till today that I've been sending mixed signals at her this whole time. I mean I wanted to be nice, because I do like her, but somewhere along the nice road I screwed up. By trying not to hurt her or lead her on, I'm afraid I did just that. She's gonna end up hating me and I don't blame her."
"Chillax Fredward." Sam was pleased to see that she got a grin out of him with that line. "You couldn't make someone hate you if you tried. I mean you're so white bread, in a good way, that if you held a gun to someone's head, you couldn't scare them much less piss them off. You won't ever have that kind of street cred Fredachinnie."
"I don't know whether to take that as a complement or a put down." Freddie grinned as he slowly used his feet to swing back and forth. "And have you yourself not told me on numerous occasions that you in fact hate me?"
"That was different." She blushed just a little. "And besides you have this annoying habit of growing on people. By being around me you managed to collect some cool points. Look, dude, you are, and if you tell anyone I said this, I'll be forced to kick your special place out the other side of your ass, you are a nice guy. I mean you hold doors open for people, you talk polite with people, and even when they don't deserve it you respect people. You're the kind of guy I want my son to be like if I have one, and the type of guy I would want as a husband."
As soon as it came out of her mouth, Sam wanted the last part of her sentence back. The awkwardness that hadn't been there before suddenly became a large anvil, like in the old cartoons, and it landed between them with the force of an atomic bomb.
Freddie stopped moving and just stared at her for what felt to her was hours before saying anything, his mouth curling into a grin that made her feel like a million butterflies had been set loose in her stomach at once as he spoke, "The Sam Puckett, the girl who beats the crap out of football players and wrestlers on a daily basis, thinks about having children and getting married?"
Despite the fact that she didn't intend on discussing this at all, and certainly not with Freddie, she couldn't stop herself, or the smile that just wouldn't leave her face as she spoke to him, "Listen, Fredfurer, just because I'm a true badass doesn't mean that if I found someone who was able to give me a good run for my money and not be afraid of me, that I wouldn't want to settle down, SOME, and have some kids and a home!"
"At the risk of a fat lip," Freddie smiled at her."I can kind of see you in a soccer momkind of roll, screaming your head off at refs during games, bulldozing your way through PTA meetings, and having all the kids in the neighborhood at your house because you would always have the cool snacks."
Sam grinned, "Yeah, Momma's house is gonna be snack heaven. You really think I'd be a good soccer mom?"
"You'd be a kickass mom, plus you'd be able to put the fear of God into them when they got too far out of line." He kicked softly at her foot and smirked.
They said nothing for the next few seconds, just looked at each other. They both saw something tranquil in the other's eyes, and a thin wisp of a future that they both very much wanted and were powerless to obtain at this time.
"You really like Will don't you?" Even though it was formed as a question, Freddie meant it as a statement.
""Shit, why did he have to ask me that of all things,""she thought as her mind reeled from what she wanted to say and what she knew she was going to say. "Yes, I do."
""Well, Freddie my boy, you've done it again,' he thought to himself as her looked at Sam. ""Twenty-four hours ago you had a chance with three women in your life, and now you have none. You must live in a valley, son, because shit always seems to roll down on you.""
"So when are the two of you going out again?" he asked but really didn't want to know.
"He's doing something with his family today, but he said he'd call me later about our next date." She was very uncomfortable talking about Will to Freddie, so she looked down and kicked at the sand with the toe of her sneaker, "What time you picking up Tara tonight?"
"A little after six, right after I leave chur…," he froze for a split second trying to think of something close to the sound church so he didn't spill his secret. "Uncle Charlie's place."
"Uncle Charlie?" Sam raised an eyebrow. "You don't have an Uncle Charlie."
"He's this guy that works with my mom." Freddie had never lied so quickly or so well. "He's kind of old and we go help him sometimes."
Sam knew that, even though he had told it well, he had told her a lie. As far back as she could remember Freddie didn't lie, and that was what made this so strange. She wondered if this "Uncle Charlie" was just a cover-up for the "crush" he had told Tara about.
""Hot damn,"" she thought,""now I have a new summer project. I'm gonna find out what Freddie does when he's not with me and Carly. I'm gonna find out who this crush is if I have to beat half of Seattle to do it. You can run but you can't hide, Benson.""
"Your mom doesn't cook for him, does she?" Sam laughed.
"Shoot no, I told you we help him not try and kill him." Freddie flashed a smile at her and kicked sand on her shoe.
Sam looked at the sand on her shoe then up at Freddie then back down at her shoe before sitting up straight, making a clicking sound with her tongue and shaking her index finger at him. "Benson, Benson, Benson, do you really want a black eye for your date tonight? Did you forget who I am or are you really that stupid and think I'd let that slide? It is so on, get 'em, Mutt."
Freddie kicked a little more sand on her shoe, and in the blink of an eye shot up from the swings and headed over to an empty play area that had rope bridges, slides, climbing towers, and other things to keep kids occupied. He climbed up the tallest tower. He made a raspberry sound at her with his tongue when he turned to look at her and stepped up into the crow's nest at the top.
Sam and Mutt were close behind but still couldn't catch Freddie before he made it to the top. Mutt was barking and jumping and Sam was holding her side, trying catching her breath. She was also trying to hide the goofy smile that she had on her face. The butterflies were back and they brought along with them something new, something that scared the shit out of her and made her want to run. She liked this, all of this: walking the dog, late night meals, playing in the park, fixing breakfast. She wanted more of this, and she wanted this for the rest of her…
"You'll have to come and get me, Puckett, and it won't be easy, princess." Freddie taunted her and laughed.
His voice snapped her out of her daydream and she looked up at him. "Trust me, Benson, I'm coming after you."
""In more ways than one,"" she thought as she began her ascent toward him with the ease of a monkey in a tree.
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Melissa Langford spent most of the morning, after she talked to her husband, covering the furniture with drop cloths in preparation for the painting she and Freddie would do on Monday. Sometime after one-thirty she sat down in the kitchen and fixed herself a tuna salad sandwich with some homemade fries. She looked at the table, ran her hand over its surface and smiled as her fingers rubbed over some irregular spots on it. The table wasn't in the best of shape, but if she had a million dollars, she would never replace the table. It held as much sentimental value as her engagement ring and wedding band did for her.
They had been just friends then, Charlie and her, just fifteen or so, and they were sitting around his grandmother's kitchen table eating cookies she had just taken out of the oven. His grandmother lived four houses down from Charlie's house, and for an older lady she had always been cool. The two teens both liked hanging out at her house almost as much as she loved them being there. Melissa had been talking about the latest love of her life, Jake, she couldn't even remember his last name now, and about how great he had been. Charlie's grandmother laughed at her and said, "Sweetie, I swear you go through boys like a baby does diapers. How are you ever going find the right one when you won't even stay with one for a full week?"
The older woman reached over to the cabinet by the sink, took a small paring knife out of a drawer, turned to Melissa and placed the knife in her hands.
"Now then, honey, you close your eyes and raise your arm up. Just relax it." Grandma Langford held Melissa's relaxed arm. "Okay now, when I let go of your arm just let it drop while still holding the knife. We're gonna do this six times then we'll read the marks and they will form the letters of your true love's first and last name. It works every time, so just trust an old lady on this."
With Charlie watching, huge grin on his face, Melissa and his grandmother repeated the arm drop six times. When they were through and the knife was put away, they looked at the marks on the table in front of Melissa.
"Well let's see here honey." The older woman pulled out a pair of glasses, bifocals, and placed them toward the front of her nose before leaning down to look at the marks. "These first three marks are either a "U" or a "C", but since any man with a "U" as the first letter is bound "homely" at best, we'll go with the "C", hmm… this last letter is either a "V" or an "L", now then do you wanna see if you've met him yet?"
"Granny," Charlie had lowered his head down on the table.
"You just put that mouth in neutral, young man, or I'll give you a double dose of castor oil, you hear me?"
Charlie had a look of a war vet having a flashback and very politely said, "Yes ma'am."
"Now then, young lady," the elderly woman produced a small pad of paper and a short pencil from the pocket of her house dress, "You take this and write out the numbers between one and ten, with each number on a separate piece of paper."
Melissa complied and wrote them out as she was told. As she did the old woman stood and picked up a wicker basket sitting on the window ledge above the sink and walked back to the table and sat down.
"Now I'm gonna fold these and put them in this basket," and she did just that and began to stand again, "Now, you right handed or left handed?"
"Right handed," Melissa said.
"With your left hand reach above your head and take a slip of paper out of the basket, but don't open it yet," Once again she had done what the old woman had told her, and after the basket was returned to its rightful place, the old woman sat down beside her.
"If the number is one thru five you have already met your true love, if the number is six thru ten you haven't," the old woman took the paper and opened it and then sat it in front of Melissa.
Melissa looked at the number and then at the old woman, "It's a four."
"Well baby," she had patted Melissa's hand, "your mister right has already crossed your path, and at least now you know his initials."
Charlie laughed, drawing the ire of both his grandmother and Melissa, "Yeah, Uber Vasectomy, the substitute teacher in gym is the man of your dreams "Red", I can see the two of you running through a field of flowers together as he whispers the love words every woman wants to hear, "Drop and give me twenty maggot!", Ah I can feel the love bloom already."
Melissa had flown out of the chair, she moved so fast, a look of pure venom in her eyes, "I'm gonna give you a vasectomy with my damn shoe "Chuck", call me "Red" one more time and I'll leave my shoe there!"
Charlie had reached the backdoor and then turned around and shouted at the top of his lungs, "RED," before quickly running into the backyard and through the hedge onto the street behind his grandmother's house, still yelling "RED" at the top of his lungs.
Melissa was behind him yelling things about Charlie and his manhood that left his grandmother laughing to the point of tears.
"I'd say the two letters were a "C" and an "L" honey," she yelled after Melissa.
When they started dating thatjunior year of high school, Charlie's grandmother pulled Melissa aside during a cook-out and sat her down in the kitchen, at the same table, and chuckled as she reminded and showed her the marks from that long ago day. She then looked her in the eyes and spoke quietly, "I knew back then you two were gonna get together. Hell, it was plain to see, I think that's why the two of you it was just too close to see. Sweetie, as much as I'd like to, I ain't gonna make it to see you two get married. I'm gonna be ninety-three this year, and while I ain't sick or anything like that, I'm getting kind of tired of missing my Joe. I was married to that man for forty-five years, through tough times and all, and I never have regretted one day of it. It's been almost ten years since he died and I'm lonely and ready to see him again. I'm telling you this because I want YOU, and only you, to have this table. Mine and Joe's marks are on the other side here. Charlie's mom and dad never did the test, so just we two have used this table and I want it to go to you. I know you'll use it well and make my little Charlie happy, because he's gonna marry you, I know it. Maybe name a daughter after me, Sara Langford, by that time the world will be ready for another one."
Grandmother Langford passed away quietly in her sleep one week into the senior year of high school. True to her word she left the kitchen table to Melissa.
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Running her fingers over the shallow gouges in the table top, Melissa imagined sitting at the table with her daughter and playing out the old ritual with her. As she absent mindedly ate a fry she could see her older self having to stop older Charlie from beating some poor boy because he kissed his daughter. She took a bite of her sandwich and saw a future with many kids around the table, being loud, fussing, fighting, and coming together as one big family. She sighed a happy sigh and then began to look around at the empty walls, trying to decide what pictures she would hang and where.
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Trent stepped into the doctor's lounge and blew air out of his lungs in a tired gesture, flopped down in one of the oversized chairs and threw his scrub hat to the floor in disgust. He'd spent four hours in the operating room with Mr. Alves and in the end hadn't been able to save him. He had been doing fine when Trent had left the hospital; they thought they had taken care of all the bleeders and other injuries from his car wreck. He seemed to be doing great, but sometime earlier in the morning an embolism in his leg had broken free and went to his heart. The efforts to revive him had played havoc with his stiches and from then on it was like trying to fix the Titanic with Silly Putty, he had called time of death twenty minutes ago.
Death was always a part of the game in medicine and as a doctor it was something that couldn't be ignored, after all that was the end result of life anyway. Tom had seen his share of it, but he still took it personally when he lost a patient. It left him feeling like he was worthless as a doctor, as if someone else might have saved the patient. He would sulk for a few hours, contemplate his career choice, and then go home. He looked at his watch, two-thirty, and sat bolt upright reaching for his phone.
""Christ, I better call Carly and check on Max, plus let her know when I'm gonna pick him up,"" he thought as he dialed her number.
As he dialed the image of Carly on the elevator yesterday flashed in his mind. She was beautiful, long shapely legs, gorgeous hips and behind, small but perky breast, long dark hair, and a vague Asian look about her eyes that gave her an exotic appearance that made her truly one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen.
""Easy there tiger,""he told himself,""she's eighteen and you're forty and married, last thing you need is to play Humbert Humbert to her Lolita. That's a can of worms that no one needs opened.""
"Hello," Carly's voice caught him off guard and he fumbled for a second, "Ah, yes, Carly sorry this is Dr. Trent. I want to thank you for watching Max and I should…"
The door to the lounge flew open and an intern stepped in, out of breath, "Dr. Trent, thank god you're still here. The construction site over on Elm Street collapsed; we got one hundred to a hundred and fifty workers hurt. They're being routed to all area hospitals and it looks like we're gonna get at least thirty of them. We got everything from broken bones to internal bleeding. We need you in the ER stat!"
"Ah, listen Carly I hate to do this but…" he said as he stood and headed for the door.
"I heard Dr. Trent," Carly told him, "I'll keep him till you get here. He's no problem at all. I hope everything works out ok for you."
"Thank you Carly, you are an angel."
As he rushed down the hall, Trent couldn't get the song by the Police "Don't Stand So Close To Me" out of his head.
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Carly hit the end button on her phone and looked at little Max watching some silly Dingo channel show where the adults were stupid and the kids did whatever they wanted to. She suddenly had a strong feeling of déjà vu as a dark headed girl, her blonde friend and a brown headed boy tried to make a teacher believe he was going crazy so they could go to a big concert or some such thing.
""This is the stupidest thing I've ever seen,"" she thought to herself as she watched, ""no way in hell are kids gonna run all over adults like that and get away with it. Look at this crap, no parent in their right mind is gonna let their teenage daughter stay with a sibling who is always shocking himself and others.""
"Carly," Spencer yelled from his shower, "would you bring me the fire extinguisher?"
"First, I put one under your sink," she chuckled, "and second, how do you start a fire in the shower?"
"I'm not sure about that myself," she could hear him opening the cabinet under the sink, "nothing to worry about, I think, is soap flammable? Never mind question answered."
Carly turned back to the T.V. and shook her head as the older brother shorted out a toaster and blacked out the city in the show, ""Like anyone is that dumb,""she chuckled to herself.
She noticed that Max, who was lying on the floor in front of the T.V., was getting droopy eyed and thought how cute he looked as he finally lost his battle with sleep and closed his eyes. Quietly she took the small blanket, which smelled of Sam's bacon, bacon, bacon and cheese sandwich, tomato and lettuce were of little value to her, and covered the little boy. She picked up the remote and sat back down on the couch and began to surf the channels for something to watch. She flashed passed Jason hacking some poor teenaged, who looked to be thirty, girl as she was dressing after having sex, Quentin Tarantino explaining that "Top Gun" is a metaphor for homosexuality, Paul Newman asking Strother Martian to stop being so good to him, which earned him a blackjack to the back of his head, Kurt Russell telling Lee Van Cleef that he was "going in" as he flew over New York, and William Holden, Ernest Borgnine, Warren Oates, and Ben Johnson shooting and being shot by an insane amount of bullets as blood ran everywhere in some Mexican village.
She stopped when she saw Diane Lane and Olivier Martinez in a lust filled session at a restaurant bathroom. Looking to make sure Max was indeed asleep, she ran the volume down a little and sitting crossed legged on the couch sank herself into the movie. She watched for several minutes as they screwed with total abandon before she stopped and realized that she couldn't remember the name of the movie. She hit the info button on the remote and the movie title and a short description of the plot superimposed it's self over the action on screen.
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Unfaithful (2002)
Cast:
Richard Gere
Diane Lane
Olivier Martinez
Erik Per Sullivan
Erotic drama film directed by Adrian Lyne and starring Richard Gere, Diane Lane and Olivier Martinez. It was adapted by Alvin Sargent and William Broyles Jr. from the French film The Unfaithful Wife (1968) (La Femme infidèle) by the noted director Claude Chabrol. It tells about a couple living in suburban New York City whose marriage goes dangerously awry when the wife indulges in an adulterous fling with a stranger she encounters by chance in Manhattan.
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She remembered the movie, had even watched it once before, and had not liked it because of the casual way marriage vows were just tossed aside. She had felt that the Diane Lane character wasn't very likeable because of what she did.
Still she found herself watching the movie and slowly, in her mind, she was watching herself and Tom Trent in the scene rather than the actors. She and Trent were lustily going at it in the restroom. It was her moaning as Trent's hand played over her body, his grunts as he ripped her underwear off and pulled his pants down, her moaning in ecstasy as he entered her, their mingled sounds of lust as their sweat covered bodies met in a purely carnal and animalist act of sex.
"Carly, Carly," Spencer's voice snapped her out of her heated fantasy and she jerked her head around to meet his gaze, "Max is right there near the T.V. what you are doing watching something like this with him in the room? What if he woke up and saw that? I mean you were zoned out sister dear, what gives?"
"I…I didn't think I guess," Carly was still in a slight haze of lust and not able to process much of anything, "I'm kind of tired. Maybe I should lay down for a few minutes or something."
"Kind of looked like you were zoned out already sis," Spencer patted her head, "Go lay down for thirty minutes or so, I'll watch the little rug rat for you."
"Thanks Spencer," she hugged him and with thoughts still on a bathroom in a French restaurant and her and Tom Trent wildly having sex in a stall, Carly climbed the stairs to her room.
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Well, well, seems Carly isn't just for kids anymore. Yes there a lot of things going on and believe it or not, I do know where this is going.
Once again I must give it up to Story Painter for service above and beyond. Your red pen must be out of ink by now, but the love it is used with is appreciated. She's my new lucky penny.
I have to take time to thank Writtenbyabdex for the friendship and the laughs; you are my other lucky penny.
Princess-Warrior 17: You are also a lucky penny of mine and I'm working on the one-shot I owe you. She has some amazing stuff and you should give her a look.
Love to the Backstage bullpen, you know who you are, for the wild chats and great fun we are having being petty, childish, and just plain mean sometimes, it feels so good. I wouldn't miss the chats for anything.
One last shout out to JuliIsMe, a sweet young lady and a talent to watch out for.
If you're looking for some great reading I have to say that anything by these writers will fit the bill:
KingxLeon21
Dwyn Arthur
Heartlines
TheWrtrInMe
WhiteKnightro
WildPomegranate
As always review and let me know what you think.