Chapter 16
ELIAS
It was Friday morning, and my mechanic, Paul, was under a 1972 faded red Chevy Camaro. The suspension was shot, and the owner was hell-bent on fixing his ”baby” for a car show in a few weeks. Paul slid out from under the car, and I handed him a pickle fork to release the suspension ball joints before I headed out for the day.
”It”s all yours, big guy. Call me if you run into any trouble. I”m heading to Reilly”s farm for the day. I”ll be back around dinnertime to check your work,” I jibed. Paul didn”t need his work checked. He was the best in the suspension business, and I was lucky to have him. However, my experience as an engineer has taught me to have more than one set of eyes on a project, verifying nothing was overlooked. No lives were going to be in peril on my watch.
I reviewed my text conversation with Abigail last night. That girl set me off like a rocket. It”s too bad I promised my time to Reilly today, or I”d be in Mystic, sinking into unfinished business by nightfall. My breathing became short, thinking of how close we were to consummating our new friendship. Her silky hair and dazed look when she looked at me made my cock swell. Last night was too much. I had so many images in my mind of that rare beauty that when I grabbed my engorged shaft, I jacked off in less than a minute.
Several minutes passed as I conjured up more images of Abigail. It was time to snap myself out of it. I felt like a teenager riled up by the remote possibility of being with a girl. Sadly, few girls had the patience for a dorky, tongue-tied giant. I was more than muscles.
The short drive to my friend’s farm provided ample time to call in a grocery order at the grocery store in Mystic. I”d pick up some supplies and not waste our precious time together. Last night, I ordered extra tools to keep around her house so I wouldn”t have to transport my whole garage to fix her car: a few jacks, a ratchet set, oil, some tarps, and other necessities. I”d bring my extra air compressor before I drove down this evening and by the end of the weekend, she’d have a safe, reliable car. My penchant for efficiency would be coming in handy on these trips.
I arrived at my destination and quickly messaged to Abigail that she should expect some packages today and to put them in the barn. She”d probably think they were bombs otherwise. I chuckled at that.
Reilly walked out of his house holding a chipped coffee mug. ”What”s up, loser?” This was one of the main reasons he was my best friend—humor.
”Loser? You”re the one with a broken cup, a broken fence, and a broken nose if you don”t knock it off.” I brought my hands to my chest, mocking a fistfight.
”Are you threatening me?” He feigned shock, his hand to his chest.
”I”m no more of a threat to you than Abigail”s chicken.” I gave him the finger in warning.
He turned and walked away, waving a hand in the air. ”I don”t know what the fuck you”re talking about, and don”t bother telling me. Let”s get to work.”
A previous client of mine paid me in part for an old golf cart that I had gifted to Reilly when he bought his farm. It made it much easier to move around the property for jobs like ours today. Beyond being economical, it gave us a reason to build a putting green, okay, not so green, at the back end of his property. I can”t even begin to tell you the depths of emotion we spilled out there with no one to hear or judge us. We were brothers in so many ways. Leaving this guy would be a hardship for me if things worked out with Abigail. I”d have a lot to process if I began a life with Abigail.
”Elias!” he yelled, smacking me in the bicep. ”You”re doing that thing again. Do you want to putt first or work first?”
Sometimes, I wish I wasn”t so transparent. My mind takes a little vacation, and, poof, my face goes to stone. Reilly didn”t care, but he knew that I tuned out everything when I was deep in thought. The only time that had been a problem was when we tried smoking cigars in college. My mind drifted, and my cigar fell onto the couch, and it caught on fire. I was oblivious to the whole thing until the smoke detector went off. That was the first and last time I used flammable items indoors.
I scrubbed my face, refocusing my attention, and muttered, ”Work.”
We traversed his forty acres for several hours, checking all the fences, measuring and replacing rotted wood, rewiring fences, and even restoring his chicken coop. By mid-day, we made some sandwiches, grabbed a six-pack of beer and putters, and headed to the back forty to relax.
”So, what did you mean about Abigail’s chicken? And don”t think you”re leaving here without telling me about this new love interest of yours. You”ve been alone too long to know this girl has put a spell on you.” He nudged my shoulder and winked at me.
Where to begin? I had already told him I was helping a stranded customer last week and couldn”t come over to bale hay. He didn”t think anything of it, and I sure as hell didn”t know what would transpire from that ride. There was a lot to unpack, so I bullet-pointed the highlights, hoping that would be sufficient.
”The girl I told you about, Abigail, inherited a large property in Connecticut and was freaked out about how she could manage the place. It was getting late by the time she got her deed and the keys. She begged me to stay after seeing a mouse; frankly, I was too tired to drive the four-plus hours back home anyway. I helped her with a few mechanical things and made sure the house was safe to live in, and then . . .”
I paused, remembering the details. ”And, then, she hugged me. I hadn”t been hugged in years, and it felt good, so I hugged her back, and that led to kissing, and then . . .”
How much detail did I have to relay? ”She, uh, and I, uh . . .” I scratched my head, stalling.
”Tell me you didn”t fuck her?” Reilly barked, horrified.
”No!” I barked back. ”But I wanted to. Almost did. Twice. She wanted to, but . . .
”But what?” He moved in closer.
”Fucking mice infestation,” I said, scrunching up my face.
”Seriously? That wouldn”t have stopped me.”
”Shut the fuck up. That goddamned vermin ran across her pillow while I was getting busy.”
”Whoa. Yeah, well, maybe that would have stopped me. Gross.” He shivered.
”So, no hot sex for you. Poor Elias. High and dry.” He bent over laughing.
”STFU, asshole. It was painful. Abigail is special. I want to see where this relationship leads. I”ve never met anyone like her. If you”re nice, I”ll let you meet her soon.” I smiled, imagining that meeting.
”You shut the fuck up. You damn well better let me meet her. After your last love disaster, you need a quality control inspector, and I”m your guy.” He pointed a thumb at his chest with a shit-eating grin.
”You”re hired, but this girl is a no-brainer for me. She”s funny and quirky. She is smart and creative, and she doesn”t play mind games. The downside is that she is impulsive and possibly unreliable, but the jury is out on that one. I like that she is direct and doesn”t hold back on her opinions. I feel comfortable knowing she believes in me and isn”t put off by my inability to use the right words in certain situations. I think she likes me for me.” My chest expanded, and I felt a rush of warmth all over my body. This feeling was so foreign that I was stunned by its impact.
”Geezus, Elias. You”re in love with her, aren”t you?” Reilly”s expression mirrored my own.
”If this is what love feels like, then maybe I am.” The rumble in my throat felt funny. We both sat silent in this moment, digesting what this new paradigm could mean for our friendship. ”Let”s give it some time, hey?”
”You bet, buddy. I”ve got you. But, Elias, if she”s the one, don”t let anything stop you, even me.” He extended his fist for me to bump, and we gathered up our mess and headed back to the house. I needed this time to talk through my feelings. Reilly was a great friend, and I trusted his opinions. I was relieved he didn”t balk at how quickly my relationship with Abigail moved. Destiny was destiny. It made life more exciting that way.
The roughly four hours of travel time provided an opportunity to check in with my parents. I”ll admit that I haven”t been as diligent as I should have in keeping in contact, but they could pick up the phone, too. It wasn”t a question of love. I did love my parents and did whatever it took to keep them safe. However, the desire to connect deeply has long been put to rest. They didn”t have cell phones, “Why would I want people to call me at all hours of thenight?”My father would intone, and the answering machine had been dead for a long time. The ”ridiculous” idea that I would need to contact them in an emergency was ”insignificant.” No wonder I had trouble voicing my feelings.
”Hello,” my mother timidly answered the phone. Always the submissive, she let my father make all the decisions in her life. I”m surprised he allowed her to answer the phone.
”Hello, Mother. How are you?” Slang wasn”t a language in my home. We spoke slowly and clearly so there were no misunderstandings. My friends thought I had a pole up my ass since I couldn”t shut that behavior down when I left the house.
”Elias, is that you?” No, Mother, it”s the other son you don”t have. I didn”t say I didn”t learn sarcasm in college. I”m pretty good at it if I say so myself.
”Yes, it is. I haven”t spoken to you or Dad in quite some time and thought I”d check in to see how you are doing?”
She cleared her throat. ”Oh, why, yes, we are doing well. Dad sprained his hand changing a light bulb last week, but it”s healing nicely,” she said, unaffected.
”How did Dad sprain his hand changing a light bulb?” I held my annoyance at bay for her benefit.
”It was the stepstool”s fault. It moved while your father was on it, and he broke his fall using his hand.” Again, completely unaffected.
”What!” I was affected. ”How did it move? Was it on level ground? Did he turn around on it, and his weight shifted it?” My parents were well into their late seventies, having had me in their forties. They shouldn”t be on stairs anymore just for this reason. ”If you need stuff done around the house, I”m happy to come out occasionally to help or hire a handyman,” I admonished her.
”I wouldn”t dream of imposing on you that way. Hiring people costs too much, and your father can still handle most things around the house. Our new neighbor helps us with the snow, and Mrs. Fielding comes down the street when I need her. We”re fine here.”
Why did I feel so impotent with my parents? They had an answer for everything except for common sense. ”Aren”t you and Dad getting a bit old to be climbing ladders?”
The gasp she expelled was one I knew well. I was in trouble. ”If this is why you called, I will hang up. You need to respect your elders and offer support, not condemnation.” She sounded like a Sunday morning sermon. Fine.
”My apologies, Mother. I was only concerned about your well-being. How is your health?” Scraping together my sweetest-concerned-son”s tone, I continued, ”I hope well.”
”I have no complaints, not that I”d share them if I did.” So stubborn.
”I hope they are minor if you did have something going on. Is Dad home?” I was done with this conversation, though moving on to one with my father wouldn”t be any better.
”Unfortunately, you just missed him. It”s Bridge night at the VFW, and he won”t be home for hours. I”ll tell him you rang.”
”Thanks, Mom. Be well.” I tried for compassion, but my mouth felt dry as sandpaper.
”Goodbye, Elias.” The incredible loneliness after that call left me numb. There were no I miss yous, or thanks for calling. God forbid asking about my welfare or if I needed something. When I turned eighteen, I was handed a white envelope with five hundred dollars and the title to the car they provided. It was inferred not to ask for anything else unless I was destitute or dying. I was neither—just a desperate-for-validation son.
I continued driving in silence, stewing in sadness about how different my life would have been had my parents shown any emotional support. Hoping for a different outcome was the very definition of insanity, so I put a cork in this downward spiral and shoved those feelings down to my toes. I was on my way to an emotional hurricane and couldn”t have been more excited.
My grocery order was ready when I arrived, and I added a few bottles of wine as an afterthought. I”d drink bourbon straight from the bottle if I thought Abigail wouldn”t bluster. I didn”t drink often, but when I did, my keys were taken away, and I was directed to a toilet post haste. I didn”t expect anyone to lift me off the floor, so binging on the couch was the only place I knew I”d be safe and not a burden. As an adult, I”ve put my fall-down-drunk days behind me—at least, I hoped so.
When I pulled into Abigail”s driveway, I shut off my headlights and killed the engine, engaging in a stealthy surprise. Then, from my truck, I called her cell and waited for her answer.
”Elias! Are you still coming? I made dinner.” I loved the genuine excitement.
”I’m still coming, though I”m going to be later than planned. Go ahead and eat without me. I”ll call again when I get close.” I could hear her voice deflate through the phone.
”Uh, okay. Drive carefully, okay?” She tried her best to put up a good front.
”See you soon, princess.”
I waited ten minutes, hoping she would stay in the kitchen while I walked around to the front door. I pushed the bell and prepared myself for whatever reaction she might have had.
Moments later, she flung open the door and dropped her fork on the floor. ”ELIAS!”
The way her face morphed from shock to delight to annoyance was priceless. ”You are such an ass! You tricked me!”
That didn”t stop her from launching her petite body onto my chest. She climbed up my legs to my hips to rest her head on my shoulder like a toddler needing protection. Tingles ran up and down my spine, receiving her unadulterated joy. All this excitement should happen when people don”t see each other for a while. A tightness grew in my groin that needed addressing soon, and I didn”t care if a damn elephant ran across our bed tonight; I was claiming this woman once and for all.