A/N Just for the sake of clarification, I personally prefer to define a sequel as an immediate continuation of plot from the original story. The continuity and story tend to be Totally in line with the original. When using the same characters in general, I tend to define these stories which happen in another time as separate works. Since they do not keep with the 'picking right up where they left off'. Some writers (and readers) prefer to define it otherwise. It really doesn't matter to me how you wish to view it if you enjoy reading it. I was just attempting to establish that I was not writing this as some type of immediately picking up where the last one left off or continuation of Abandoned Love. Though I understand how it could be seen that way. I feel when you have the same characters it doesn't mean you are writing a sequel. I very much see this as writing separate stories within the same series, much like the original author did so many years ago.
With that said, Thanks for reading and feel free to offer your input.
-2-
Frank looked down and kicked at the dirt. He thought about what his friend said and the way he looked at his old home. The home which almost seemed like it hadn't been lived in for a hundred years. Frank looked at the lamenting expression on his friend's face.
"Well, pal, I think we all have changed." Chet flashed him a curt smile and took a few steps towards the house. He stood there for several moments, looking at the house. He then looked down at the ground and took a deep breath.
"Well, Frank, that's kind of you to say. But we both know better." He turned and looked at his friend. "But I suppose if you mean that we all have regrets...well, you would be right. I know I do." Chet paused as he and Frank stood with the dust from the disrupted earth still blowing around them. "I do want to thank you for the ride. By the time I hit Bayport there were three warning lights on the car and the transmission felt like it was about to fall off. Can't understand that..." he muttered. "Damn Mercedes should last a long time, not break down after a year..." Frank smiled back at him.
"Well, it's a mechanical thing, Chet. And probably a sensitive one at that. They give you any idea when it would be up and running?" Chet shook his head and gave a grunt.
"No time soon, pal. They said most likely it would have to be towed to a dealership. Of which there are none in Bayport. Guess I will have to rent one while I am here." Frank shot him an amused look, then started walking towards the barn. Chet looked quizzically at him as he walked by. He followed Frank as he walked to the nearest barn. He swung the half open door all the way open and smiled. He looked over his shoulder as Chet approached.
"No needs to rent one, buddy. Just use this one." He said with a gesture. Chet looked on and noticed Frank had been looking at his dad's old pickup. A faded aqua green 1965 Chevy C10 pickup with a heavy coat of dust sat amongst other discarded farm implements. Chet furrowed his brow and looked over at his friend.
"Are you full of it, bro? You want me to drive that?" Frank shrugged slightly and then nodded.
"Why not? When your dad parked it there years ago, it still ran, didn't it? He always took care of his vehicles. Throw a fresh battery in there and I would bet it would turn over." Chet squinted and took a breath.
"Frank, that rickety thing is probably dangerous to drive. No airbags. No air conditioning and as I recall, the clutch was a bit squirrely going from second to third." In spite of what he had just said Chet turned back to look at the vehicle. Perhaps it was a wave of nostalgia and yearning for a simpler time in his life. But something gave him pause and he walked over to the truck. Frank watched in silence as Chet grasped the door handle and turned it with a hard twist motion. The door let out an audible squeak as he opened the door. Chet leaned into the cab. The pervading scent struck him and he closed his eyes for a moment. He stepped back and turned to Frank, who raised an eyebrow at him.
"If you rebuild it, he will come." He said solemnly, then his lips curled into a grin. Chet rolled his eyes and smiled.
"Smart ass." He walked to the front of the truck and popped the hood open, then looked down at the engine. Frank continued his silent observation. "Maybe..." Chet muttered under his breath. "just maybe."
"Think you can get her running?" Frank asked with exaggerated volume. Chet looked over his shoulder at him for a moment.
"Maybe...maybe I can have someone tow it in and change the battery and put in new plugs. Tune the carb and check the tires..."
"Why?" Frank asked with a smug grin.
"Why what?" Chet asked, somewhat confused. Frank offered a shrug.
"Why have a garage tow it anywhere to do something you already know how to do?" Chet turned around with a bit of a confounded expression.
"Well, I mean, it would be easier..."
"True. But why let the mechanic have all the fun?"
"Well, because..." His voice fell silent as he thought about what Frank just said. "Well, it wouldn't cost much just to have someone do it..." Frank nodded and looked down, a smile still on his face as he could sense Chet's heart wasn't in the words he just spoke.
"So you want to pay someone to have the fun?"
"Fun?" Chet repeated. Frank nodded and walked over to his friend. He gestured down at the engine.
"Yeah, Chet, fun. I remember back in high school. I am sure you do as well. You know, back when we were all close friends. Back when I still dated Cal, and you would be checking her out not thinking I knew..." Chet reddened a bit.
"Uhm, yeah, I guess I remember such a time." He admitted quietly. Frank nodded.
"Yep. Back then you had this total piece of crap car you pulled out of a junk yard. You rebuilt the thing from the bottom up. Giving it all the love you could. Giving it modifications that made it run better. You spent countless hours with that thing." Chet nodded soberly.
"Yes. I remember." He said softly.
"Well..." Frank continued. "You don't forget such talents as you learn in high school auto shop class. Talents that you turned into many hours of tinkering and making things just right."
"I guess I remember those things." Chet admitted, feeling a bit uncomfortable at the corner Frank was painting him in to.
"So, this truck should be a breeze for you, pal. Why waste the money to have some other mechanic fix it back up?"
"Well, Frank, money is no real issue as I am sure you are aware of..."
"Ah, I think it is." Frank interrupted. "you have become a slave to it. But I am sure I am not the first one to tell you that." Chet shot him a dirty look and turned and out of the barn. Frank followed. Chet stopped and leaned against the fence that separated one of the 40 acre fields his family used to farm. He sighed as he sensed Frank approach him.
"You think I wanted it to turn out like this?" Chet asked without turning. "You have no idea. I just wanted to have security for my family." Frank stepped forward and also leaned against the fence. He nodded.
"I know, pal." He said as he watched his friend look out at a field full of weeds. "you have always had that in your mind." Chet shot him a look.
"What do you mean?" Frank smiled and gestured out into the field.
"Remember when you were maybe 16 or 17 and you found some old coins out in that field when your dad asked you to dig a drainage ditch? And you become convinced that there was a whole treasure of coins? Which motivated you to, shall we say, excavate a bit more ground than your dad asked you to?" Chet gave a half smile in spite of the implication.
"I remember you were there too, bro. You were part of it." Frank furrowed his brow and gave a slight shrug.
"True...but I also didn't camp out in the field and dig around the clock."
"What's your point, Frank?" Frank shook his head again.
"No point, really, pal. Just pointing out that you have often times had the desire to take care of your family. Back then you thought you could dig up a chest of gold and improve the lives of your family." He paused and turned away from his friend. "Then years later you strike the big one. You become a millionaire several times over. And for the most part your family declines most offers you make to improve their lives by giving them some material item that will supposedly make it better. Your parents barley accepted the condo you bought them. You no doubt offered them a much grander home before that and they declined. You buy Iola and Joe that nice house, and then you and Cal shack up with them. That didn't last all that long before things got dicey and you ended up moving out. Joe would have sold the place off to be rid of the lingering memories, but he knew Iola loved that house. She he grudgingly kept it. Then he got into that trouble and leveraged the house. You bailed them out, and that is still a hard bit of pride that Joe had to swallow." Chet shot him a look. He was not all that comfortable being reminded of these things.
"What's your point? I ask you again."
"Just this. If I have to spell it out even more. That damn money has been a curse for you and those around you. Maybe it has helped some in terms of long term security. But it's never been enough. When you got sucked into the investment game, and made more money. It still was not enough. Now you have been estranged from your wife for a year now..." Chet's lips curled into a wry smile.
"You sure you should be preaching to the choir on that count, pal?" frank looked down.
"No, I guess not." He said, a tone of sadness in his voice. Chet watched his friend for a moment and exhaled slowly, having realized his lack of sensitivity. Frank and his wife Tiffany had divorced about seven months prior.
"I'm sorry, Frank. That was a bit of a low blow. I guess we are both not that great when it comes to keeping our women." Frank looked off to the field and shrugged a bit.
"Well, Chet, the situation is what it is I guess. At least it was somewhat amicable, all things considered." He looked sheepishly up at Chet. Having brought up the main catalyst of why Tiffany left him. A year prior, Frank had made a very poor choice of having had a brief encounter with Callie. It was not exactly a reunion of past loves that either party had hoped for. Ultimately, Frank chose to confess his indiscretion to not only Chet, who took it better than he thought he would of. And to tell his wife, Tiffany, who did not accept it well at all. Frank's marriage was on thin ice before it happened. And his confession had essentially sent the marriage over the brink.
Now it was Chet's turn to shrug indifferently and give his friend a casual slap on the shoulder.
"I don't hold any ill will, Frank. It was not the happiest day in my life when you told me. But I respect you for having been man enough to do it."
"Well, I appreciate it." Frank said, still a bit embarrassed at the recollection. "So, how are you and Cal doing, all things considered?" Chet held up his hands with a futile expression.
"Well, Frank. It's hard to be a self-absorbed man who is easily distracted. Who tends to do the wrong things at the wrong times. You just pointed out a stabbing reality. And that is I didn't pay attention when I should have. I didn't take steps I needed to take. I don't know what will happen with us." He paused and leaned into the fence again and looked down. "It's hard to compete with her little distraction keeping her from even really giving me the time of day. I mean we talk and have civil conversations. But when I bring up our marriage, she just doesn't want to go there. She rips on me about the kids. And well, I had it coming more times than not."
"Well, at least that's something you are aware of, pal. I mean that's why you are back in town. I think it's a good step for you to be dropping everything and stepping up to be with your daughter." Chet nodded.
"I have been pretty blind about it. But I have come to realize that there are things more important than money. So, yes, you are correct. Not that it is flattering. But I had always thought that Cal and the kids had needed to have a certain quality of life. And for a while there, they were spending a lot. I guess in some way I felt I needed to keep up with their expenditures..." Frank looked over to him.
"Just theirs?" He asked.
"What do you mean?" Frank grunted and then took a deep breath and let it out slow. He gestured to his friend.
"Well, we could start with that car you drive into town. Even though it broke down, I dare say that ride of yours probably cost 6 figures." He then pointed to the gold watch Chet was wearing. "And what about that? Ten? Twenty grand? For a watch?" Chet tugged at his collar, then held out his hands.
"Yeah, ok, I guess it should be fair to say we all had this time in our marriage. In our family, where we allowed ourselves to have some degree of excess." Frank grinned at the way Chet phrased it.
"No, really? You think? Chet, pal, I like the occasional nice thing in life. But I would never buy a $100,000 car! And my watch cost $80! Granted, I am a humble police detective with limited income. But even if I got a substantial raise, I would not be able to do anything remotely close to what you have done. It's not in me. And, well, I guess I just never needed it. Trust me, one of the contentions of my marriage was having a wife that often times would say to my face that I needed to be more successful like you. You really should thank your lucky stars that you and she didn't get together. She would have been happy to live in your excess and not had much of a conscience about it." He paused, wondering if he should be this candid about his ex-wife. "It's not that I didn't love her. I did. Deeply, I did. As you may remember she saved both dad and I from a certain death once upon a time. And I don't want to say she was just this materialistic woman and that was it. We had many wonderful moments in our marriage. Our child being one of them. But at the end of it all, I guess maybe I became distant. We were separated for some time. And then, well, you know what happened last year. That broke the camel's back. And I really can't blame her."
Chet absorbed all his friend had said. He knew that they were both going through similar issues at this juncture of their lives. He smiled and put his arm around Frank.
"Well, my friend, you and I have done made our beds. Whether or not we can remake them is anyone's guess. But I guess it takes some small steps to come back from where we were." Frank nodded his agreement.
"Yeah, I guess that is true." Chet sighed and turned back towards the barn. He chuckled a bit to himself.
"Well, got to start some place." He walked back to the barn with Frank following. Chet looked back at his father's truck. A truck that he had driven quite a bit growing up. He turned to Frank. "You know, about this truck...you're right. I think I can get it going. Might need a little help. How about a ride to the auto parts store? You can help. I mean if you're interested." Frank perked his eyebrows and cracked a smile. Chet had taken a step. Well, maybe both of them had.
"Sure, pal. Always have time for a friend."
"So, are you excited?" Aimee asked as she looked across the table at Callie. The two sat in one of the window side booths of the local Starbucks, where Aimee worked. Callie had dropped by to visit Aimee on her lunch break. Callie looked down nervously at her frappe and started mixing the whip cream with a straw. She glanced up at Aimee, who was smiling. Her sparkling green eyes wide open in anticipation.
"Well, I am glad Maddie is going on the trip. She needs a bit of a break from mom I suspect. Even though she doesn't show it much, I know I can be overbearing." She paused and took a sip. "But, I think she is fairly nervous about her dad going along. And I know Iola is also a bit anxious."
"Why is that? I mean I know why Maddie would be a bit nervous. But Iola has reservations about the plan?" Callie nodded.
"Yeah...as you know she and Chet's relationship has been a bit tenuous for the last year or so. And the fact that his attention towards the kids has been inconsistent. Especially since we separated. She figures he is either taking it out on the kids, or avoiding them because it refreshes his memory about when we all lived together." Aimee nodded soberly.
"Well, I can sure understand that. I know Maddie has had some moments with me where she seemed pretty upset about her dad and..." her words faded and she looked down and closed her eyes.
"What's wrong, girl?" Callie asked, noting her sudden change. Aimee shook her head a bit and looked up.
"I don't know..." she said a bit hesitantly. "I guess I figure I never helped matters. I threw quite the curveball that no one saw coming. Sometimes I feel like I am to blame for you not being all together. I guess I get the vibe from Iola on occasion that..."
"That what?"
"Well, sometimes she is very nice to me. Other times I get this underlying vibe that suggests I am unwelcome or was an unwanted factor in your life." Callie placed her hand on Aimee's and offered her a comforting smile.
"Hey, now don't think like that. I know there are times when Iola has tended to simplify things. She may have put some black and white scenario in her mind where if you weren't around that I would somehow be happily married to Chet still. But she also knows better. She knows the issues are multi-faceted. There was never one single cause for why things are the way they are today. Hell, that is why she is upset with Chet. She knows he holds a lot of blame and it has been difficult for her to accept him and his sense of priorities. But as I told you many times, what was going on with Chet and I started long before you ever entered the picture." Aimee sniffed a bit and rubbed her eyes. She gave a resigned nod.
"Well, I guess I understand that. I guess it just makes me feel bad when she has alluded to me being a reason why things got so screwed up." Callie leaned forward and ran her hand along Aimee's cheek.
"Don't sweat it. We all have our bad days. Iola really likes you and when she occasionally goes off on these things, it's really nothing personal. She is just kind of bummed the way things turned out. I guess in some ways she also feels responsible on some level." Aimee nodded slowly and took a drink of her coffee.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to really mention it even. I guess It has been a long day so far." Callie giggled and looked around.
"Well, being a barista can have its downsides. But imagine the free comps you get in drinks alone makes it worthwhile." Aimee tilted her head a bit and tried to smile.
"Yeah, I like it here for the most part. It fills in the boredom at times. I think I was up to almost 30 hours last week." She paused and looked around the small area with its booths, as well as casual seating. There were fewer than ten patrons at that time. Aimee's eyes shot to her left. She frowned slightly and then rolled her eyes.
"What's up?" Callie asked, noting her behavior. Aimee shrugged a bit.
"Nothing too bad. Just the usual." She said and indicated to Callie with her eyes that darted to her left. Callie followed her lead and saw a man of about 40 sitting in a chair on the opposite wall. He was making no real effort to hide his gaze upon their booth. Callie pursed her lips.
"Make another conquest, girl?" Aimee nodded slightly and sighed.
"Yeah. When I served him half an hour ago he called me sweet cheeks." Callie leaned back and held back a chuckle.
"Subtle. He isn't making much effort to hide his leering I notice." She said as she made the occasional glance to her left. "But, got to admit he has it right. I mean you do have sweet cheeks. Upstairs and down." Aimee's face reddened with embarrassment.
"Oh, Lord, Cal. You are as bad as him." She scolded with an embarrassed smile. Callie nodded.
"Yep. But you appreciate when I do it." Aimee looked back at her and their eyes met. She nodded with a warm expression.
"Yes. Yes, I do." She said as her foot made its way under the table and brushed along Callie's leg. Cal raised an eyebrow at her.
"It has been about a week, hasn't it?" She asked, a fairly clear amorous expression painted on her face. Aimee was about to respond in kind, but from the corner of her eye she saw the man who had been looking at her get up and casually walk in their direction. Her face changed to one of irritation. Callie also saw as he approached. They had both hoped he was going back to the counter to order another drink, or even better, leave. Unfortunately for them, the man stopped at their booth. He wore jeans, a long sleeve t-shirt and boots. He had a what he probably deemed to be stylish beard stubble and dark blonde hair. Aimee slowly turned to look up at him.
"Can I help you, sir?" She asked, not at all meaning to address him as sir. But it was standard procedure to address the patrons as sir or ma'am when wearing company uniforms. Even if the uniform was nothing more than a green apron with the company logo on it. The man gave her a sideways grin and raised his brows.
"Hey there, sweet cheeks. I have been checking you out."
"Really?!" Callie asked giving him a bit of a glare. The man ignored her. Aimee blinked a few times, trying to diffuse her irritation, knowing it was not proper in the work place to go off on a customer. She had hoped by her not acknowledging him further, he might just go away. She attempted to keep her focus on Callie. The man seemed oblivious to the attempt to brush him off quietly.
"So, how about you tell me when you get off?" He asked with an exaggerated tone that he must have thought made women think he was one to hang out with. Aimee blinked several more times, hoping he would go. He did not.
"So, when do you get off, baby?" He repeated. Aimee sighed, then gave Callie a quick shrug as it to suggest he was asking for it. She turned to face the man.
"Oh, so you want to know when I get off?" She asked and perked her eyebrows seductively at him. The man, encouraged by her change in body language nodded.
"For sure, baby." He almost sneered. Aimee smiled then gestured towards Callie.
"Well, I usually get off about half an hour after I walk into her bedroom." Callie immediately lowered her head into her arms on the table to stifle the sudden laughter that Aimee's statement caused. Aimee's smile turned to a look which one could only quantify as irritated bitch. "Any other questions?" She asked in a matter of fact tone. The man blinked a couple times as he looked from Aimee to Callie. A wave of discomfort appeared on his face. Callie was half expecting the lecherous man to start asking questions and was preparing to pivot her body out of the booth to give him a swift ass kicking if he went in that direction. However, the icy glares from both women seemed to give him ample reason to take leave. He cleared his throat.
"Excuse me. I need to go." He said and abruptly turned and headed for the door. Aimee turned to Cal and a smile creased her lips.
"Well, that worked." She said with satisfaction. Callie's face relaxed and she nodded with a smile in agreement.
"Well, I do love that about you, girl. I was about to offer you an assist, but you clearly took care of things." She leaned back and took another sip. Aimee looked down at her phone.
"Well, I got to go back to work in about ten minutes. What are your plans for the rest of the day?"
"I was going to take Maddie to get some new clothes for her trip." Aimee smiled.
"Ah, sounds like fun." Callie shrugged.
"The kid can almost wear my clothes. She is of course a bit thinner than her mamma." Callie laughed.
"Well, she is going to be your twin in a couple years I bet. She has that hourglass forming pretty well for her age. Over the last couple of months she must have hit a growth spurt. I think she passed me up on cup size." Callie laughed and nodded.
"Yeah. But lord I am not anxious for when those young men start paying more attention." Aimee shook her head.
"Girl, I think she is already there. Last week when we were at the grocery store I saw a couple guys giving her the once over. I wanted to promptly go over and knock their heads together. They probably didn't know how young she was. But still." Aimee looked irritated at the recollection.
"Well, I am glad you were there to look out for her. Lots of guys hang out at grocery stores to pick girls up. Well, at least they did back in my day." Aimee rolled her eyes.
"Oh, please! Back in your day? You act like you are so old." Callie tilted her head.
"Well, I'm not that far from 40, girl. Unlike you." Aimee leaned forward.
"Guess I just like older women." She smiled. Callie leaned forward and kissed her.
"I'm glad you do." She said with a smile. "Better let you get back to work. Text me later. Maybe we can do something."
