Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Landon
Entering the living room, I check my watch. Again. That makes four times. Barney jumps up from his half-sleep and comes at me. My hands block the jumping.
“Don’t even think about it.”
His one-eyed brother from another mother shows up, and the click of nails on hardwood pulls the big guy’s attention.
“Here, boys,” Dad calls, shaking the faded squeaky blue dolphin.
“It’s time to trim Biscuit’s nails, isn’t it?”
I have never had to prompt my father to groom his dogs.
“I know. It’s on the list.”
The dog jumps atop his favorite bed. Dad’s belly. “Do you need a pedicure?” he says, kissing his head.
There’s just time to check the mirror. I adjust the collar of my favorite shirt and know that’s as good as it gets.
Set into the old bookshelves, the mirror backs the small bar with the tiny wine cooler underneath.
A few good bottles wait to be poured. Needs restocking.
Having a glass of wine, a beer, or for dad a scotch while lost in the pages of a good book, is something the Podestas have perfected.
Drinking and reading. Should be the family motto.
When I was a kid, my parents would set the stage by picking the drink that best suited their novels.
Always thought it was a revealing detail about who they were.
Eventually I was old enough to follow their lead.
Now there is just two of us honoring the tradition.
Comfortable seats are within a few steps, and the right lighting illuminates each spot.
It’s this house in particular that lends itself to a bar with books.
Somehow it doesn’t translate to my condo.
Maybe the new place will be a better fit.
“Are you bringing her flowers?” The delegate from the nineteen seventies speaks.
“What? No,” I say, slightly surprised my father thinks I need guidance.
On second thought maybe he just wants to father me a little.
He is holding court from the couch. Stretched out in his dirty work clothes. Not used to seeing that.
“Where’s the caftan? Mixing things up?”
“I just haven’t made it to the bedroom yet. That lawn is getting bigger or maybe it’s me. Your old man is actually old now. Didn’t see it coming.”
“You’d still take down any man stupid enough to give you any shit.”
“You could cut some roses,” he continues, ignoring my compliment. “All women like that. It shows them we have some elegance in us. We’re not all grease and sweat.”
“Elegance? You’re fucking with me, right?”
“Laugh all you want. A little bit goes a long way. For example, want me to get the secateurs?”
“What the hell is that?”
“The proper name for the rose pruning tool. Leave it to your mother to know the correct name.”
I soften. Never heard him say the word before. He holds on to whatever is left. Standing in front of the couch, I show him what I put together.
“I’ll save roses for date two. What do you think? Do I look like I put in enough effort, but not like I’m trying too hard?”
His puzzled smirk and knitted eyebrows are something that have appeared with frequency since I was a kid. Every time he thinks I say something stupid it shows up.
“Why in the hell would you want her to think you’re hardly trying? That isn’t going to get you anywhere.”
“I haven’t had any trouble getting anywhere in the past.”
“That’s because your aim was lower. Kim is another kind of chick. You’d realize it if you were paying attention. Listen to your old man.”
I’m listening. The man was able to sustain a forty-year relationship with a woman that could have had her pick. He is encouraged when I do not contradict the idea.
“You have to hear what she talks about. She’s a reader and you suggested a book. You should bring it to her. It’s up there.”
He points behind his head at the hundreds of books.
“I don’t have time to go searching for a book. I’ll look for it tomorrow. Okay, I’m outta here.”
“Hey, I’ll make myself scarce later. Just in case you two want to hook up.
The dogs will be in my room. But consider this son, you could blow the whole thing by moving too fast.” He takes a few beats between thoughts.
“Or, it could be totally awesome. Best sex of your life. Make certain you read the signals right.”
“Night, Dad. And thanks for the tutorial.”
I’m chuckling as I walk out the door. He sends one more unnecessary suggestion.
“Make sure to kiss her!”
An hour later and two martinis in, I am considering my father’s final note. Actually, it is all I can think about. Surreptitiously, I watch Kim’s mouth as she talks. She laughs, and it sounds like a friggin Disney princess. Fuck. I’m an idiot. It is hard to ignore the obvious though.
The low light of Pure Thai creates a vision.
She could not be more appealing. And God created woman come to life.
Like the white dress. Mostly I am slightly obsessed with how the skirt part moved over her ass when she walked ahead of me.
It is short and there’s sexy red heels. The combo men are drawn to, draws me.
Nails and toes are painted to match the shoes. Pretty little feet. Whatever. It all looks good.
The boobs. I’m a big fan. No matter how much I would love to give a deep dive review, it would seal my pervert status. I don’t want her to think of me that way. Not yet. Think the insult becomes an attribute when a man is a deviant whore for one particular woman. We are not there.
Sometimes a man has to bide his time. Dad’s words replay in my mind. What I got at her house tonight, was a second or two of preview. She leaned over to pick up a dropped cell phone and a little bit of the shape of heaven was revealed.
George Harrison’s “My Sweet Lord” plays in my mind and accompanies the memory of her beautiful breasts. But my aim has nothing to do with a god. I have substituted wanting to see The Almighty for really wanting to see her naked. I’m hoping a horny man God listens.
The server approaches and interrupts the dream.
“Are you ready to order? Would you like to hear the specials?”
“I think we know what we want. Kim?”
“Yes. I’m going to have the grilled Bangkok shrimp, with the jasmine rice.”
“I’d like the same, except I’ll have it with the sticky rice.”
“Of course. Any appetizers or another cocktail?”
“Let’s have some crispy garden rolls.”
I nod to her martini.
“I’m still working on this one,” she says, bringing the glass to her lovely lips.
Lovely? Who are you, man?
“I’m good too. Will you bring the wine list, please?” I say.
The girl takes the list from under the menus and hands it to me. I scan the choices.
“I want a good dry Riesling. Like this 2019 Gonnhoff Estate.”
“Yes. That is an excellent choice.”
“Do you have any favorites, Kim?”
“I know very little about wines. You pick.”
I look to the server and nod. “We’ll have a bottle with dinner,” I say, returning the menu to her hands.
“Very good.”
And she’s off. Thank God. I don’t want to do anything but listen to, stare at, and fantasize about the girl across the table.
“I thought she’d never leave.”
“What?” She asks the question but her grin says she understood my meaning.
“We’re having too good a time talking. Everything else is an annoying interruption. Right?”
“Right.”
There wasn’t hesitation. I like that. It is encouraging.
“Tell me about Memphis. How long have you been there?”
“Three years. I was in Nashville before that. It took time to get to a place that felt right. Just bought my first house there.”
“How great. I’ve been in my home for years, and don’t expect that will change for awhile at least.”
“He just finished his first year?”
Her eyebrows knit.
“Yes. I’m not sure it’s for him though. In fact I think it may not be. His grades are good, but he just isn’t warming to it. I don’t know how much longer he’ll last.”
“It isn’t for everyone. I went for a year then dropped out.”
“I didn’t go at all.” She chuckles. “That’s part of the reason I want him to have the experience.
I understand it’s about what you learn and how you learn.
But it’s also about the last of real youth.
The four years before you are required to be an adult with adult responsibilities. I just don’t want him to miss that.”
“I guess no one but Hunter will know what’s right for him.”
“I know. My thing is to keep our home as a touchstone. Especially before he finds his direction.”
Our crispy garden rolls arrive and the server takes away my empty martini glass. I pick up the conversation.
“I still love coming back to my parents’ place.”
“How come you left Smyrna and your family? Were you bored with the small town atmosphere?”
“Bored? No. Hardly. I just wanted to be somewhere new. Where everybody didn’t know my name.”
There is empathy on her face.
“I know about your sister and that dramatic story. Holly mentioned the kidnapping once. It must have been horrible for your family.”
“It was. And if it wasn’t for the help we had from our friends, like Lex and Layton and The Club, it would have been a different ending. But I couldn’t shake the cloud of it. I tried. After it was over, it stayed with me.”
“Makes sense. You can’t move past traumas quickly.”
“Eventually I had to get away from the constant reminders.”
“Life has such random twists. You never know what sort they’ll be. The last time life smacked me across the face, I was completely unprepared.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I was in a horrific car accident three years ago. Broke my femur, my nose, lost some teeth. Months of rehab. The experience of having to accept help from family and friends and being grateful they were willing. It was a life-changing event.”
“God. You’d never know.”
“That’s the power of being consistent with your physical therapy. I was a beast with myself because I didn’t want to end up with a limp or a lifetime of pain. It’s behind me now.”
“You are a very strong person, aren’t you?”