Chance of Clouds

                Offering Larry Scotch and Cigars was probably the most desperate thing I could think of in an attempt to lure him over here.  The smell of whiskey pollutes my senses when I greet him at the door.  I can tell he’s already had too much to drink.  I water down the glass of scotch in as much ice and water as I can so he doesn’t realize the difference.  He’s sitting on the couch, slouched, his face covered in stubs of hair from lack of shaving.   His divorce has devastated him and has left him feeling so much grief that he can barely hold it together.  I invited him over for dinner with my wife and I hoping that his favorite bottle of Scotch and fancy cigars would pull him out of his state, but he seems more on edge than ever.

                I join him on the sofa, doing what I know best to comfort him. Larry’s my brother and we’ve always been close.  We were born eighteen months apart from each other, so we were close.  Even though he went off and joined the military and got himself hitched, while I went on to Architect School and became an architect, we still remained a tight-knit set of brothers.

 "How do you do it?" He says to me. "How do you keep your marriage together?  It's like mine just slipped through my fingers and I can't put the pieces back together."

                "Marriage is rough.  It takes a lot of effort and commitment.  It's not easy for anyone no matter how much it looks like a fairy tale to everyone else."

                He takes a swig of his Scotch and puffs on his cigar, leaning back on the sofa, resting his head against the cushion as he transitions his stare from the floor to the ceiling.  Larry looks as though he hasn’t seen a razor in weeks.  His beard has overgrown his face, his hair looks like a cue-tip and his clothes?  Let’s just say if it hadn’t been for his wife he never would have known how to dress properly.  His shirt’s un-tucked and it looks as though he’s been wearing the same jeans for the past three days.  He’s not well.    

                "She's taking our son, did you know that?"

                I shake my head, devastated about the news.

                "Shit, I'm so sorry."

                "She didn't even ask if I wanted him, she just assumed she had rights to them."

                Amy walks in with a tray of peanuts and chips and sets it down on the ottoman.  Larry sits up at full attention; it’s the fastest I’ve seen him move since he got here. 

                “I thought you might like an appetizer before dinner,” my wife says.

                “Thank you,” I say to her.

                “You read my mind, Amy,” Larry declares. 

                Amy disappears out of the study and Larry slouches back on the couch, tossing some peanuts into his mouth.  He sighs.

                “I envy you, Denny,” he says. “You don’t have an ungrateful, nagging wife who threatens you every time you talk about going to Vegas every few months.”

                A constant nagging in my head insists on arguing with Larry’s idea of my perfect life.  I try to keep myself steady, solid, as I pour myself a drink.

                “Don’t envy me,” I say.

                “You have an amazing woman who loves you and would stick by you no matter what.  You don’t have to worry about her taking your kids away if you got a divorce.”

 Larry’s words are plied by fatigue, scotch and cigars. It’s a painful and unwelcome reminder of the trouble my wife and I have been going through in an effort to have children.  We have been married for almost ten years and have been trying to have children for five long, grueling and devastating years.  Years that involved fertility drugs, and a miscarriage that has left us with a painful reality. 

Amy has taken it pretty hard; She drowns her sorrows in a bottle of Jameson, and one time I caught her taking a valium with the whiskey.   I snatch the bottle from her delicate hand.  She screams at me.

                “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I say. “Do you know a combination like that can fuck you up?”

                “Leave me alone, Denny.  This doesn’t concern you!”

                “It does.  You’re my wife!  I have a right to know if you’re poisoning yourself!”

                Amy starts blubbering, her hands shaky.  She leans against the sink, shivering and sobbing; her mascara runs like paint down her cheeks.  The one miscarriage left her feeling pretty devastated.  She was six months pregnant when it happened.  No one suspected that there was anything wrong; the pregnancy had been coming along so smoothly.  The baby was at the right weight and size and it was kicking up a storm, so we had gotten its room ready.  Then one night, Amy woke me up, screaming in fear.  I spring up in my bed and I can see her in our bathroom, standing there with blood dripping down her legs.  Lots of blood. 

                We get to the hospital where she had to have an emergency C-section.  I had to stand there and watch as they yanked my fragile son from my wife’s belly.  He wasn’t breathing, he wasn’t crying, he wasn’t kicking.  My son was dead.  I stood there and I watched them wrap him up in a blanket and set him in the cradle.    

                “Is he sleeping?” My wife mutters from behind the sheet the doctors pinned up.

                “No, sweetie,” I whimper. “He’s gone.”

                I can see the pain in her eyes as she turns away from me, her eyes filled with tears.  I reach out to comfort her, but she brushes me away.  The horrible incident left her in a state of severe depression for months. 

                “I just want the pain to stop,” she sobs as she reaches for the pills from my hand.

                “This isn’t going to help,” I say.

                “What the fuck do you know about it?” She yells. “Do you know what it’s like to lose a baby that had been growing inside you?”

                “No,” I say. “But I lost him too.  You’re not the only one who lost him.”

                Rage and fury build-up in her blood-shot red eyes.

                “Get the fuck out of my sight!” She screams.

                She shoves me out of the bathroom and slams the door.  That began an endless streak of sleeping in the study on the fold out couch.

                Larry notices the poignant disposition appearing across my face.

                “Shit, man I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean anything by that.”

                “It’s alright,” I say solemnly.  “I suppose there is that blessing in disguise, but I wouldn’t jump to the conclusion that my life is anything to be envious about.”

                “You have it all together, man.  You have a successful career, a nice home, a beautiful wife.  I’m jealous.”

                 I kill off the last of my Scotch and set the glass on the bar.

                “What the hell good is a home if it’s empty?” I say.

                Larry sits there in a chilling silence.  I can’t say anymore.  I run my hand over my face to hide the tears that are starting to form and excuse myself from the study.

                 

               

                I go to the kitchen to check on my wife as she’s cooking dinner.  She’s working on the salad, chopping tomatoes and celery.  I offer to help, but she shoos me away.

                “Don’t bother yourself with it,” she snaps.

                “I want to be useful somehow,” I say.

                “Keep Larry company.”

                “I can’t. I need a break.”

                “You can’t even handle your own brother?”

She smirks.

“I thought you two were close.”

                “We are,” I retort. “I just need a breather.”

                “You need a breather,” she says unimpressed.

                She stops her chopping and glares at me.  You could cut the tension with a knife with that glare. 

                “Go then.  We need coffee.  I know you’re going to need it later if you want to get those designs done for that project in Kirkland.  One of us still has to make a living.”

                She returns to her chopping and I just stand there, the rage and frustration building up inside. I exit out the backdoor without notice.

I hitch up our yellow Lab, Moses, and the two of us walk down to the store.  As oppose to the tension that lingers in my house, there’s calm on the street.  The street lamps are dimly lit as the warm, spring sun sets over the Olympic mountain range.  A combination of yellow, pink and indigo paint the sky as the day becomes night and the fresh, cool breeze fills my lungs with an air so heavenly I almost felt I were the walking dead.  It’s therapeutic.  The spring air makes it easier to clear my head from the drama that surrounds the demise of my life, my brother’s life.  I don’t know how much more of it I can take.

                Moses and I arrive at Jake’s Grocery Mart.  His son, Jeffrey is busy stocking the shelves with canned goods and greets me in his pubescent voice.

“How are you doing today, Mr. Morgan?” He

“Fine, Jeffrey, how are you?”

“I’ll be glad when school is finally over.”

I chuckle.

“Yes, it’s that time of year isn’t it?”

“Denny!” Jake calls from behind the counter. “How the hell are you doing?”

 Jake and I have known one another ever since my wife and I moved to this neighborhood a few years ago. We get together for poker games every once in a while, along with a few of my colleagues.  His store is the best place to go when I need something and he always makes sure he has my favorite coffee in stock. 

                Jake is middle aged with balding, graying hair and smells of Camel’s cigarettes. The first few times I came in here we talked about nothing but fishing and that became our bonding point.  Eventually he and his wife invited Amy and I up to Whidbey Island where he took me out on his boat and went fishing and crabbing.  We are like family now.

                “Okay I suppose,” I say.

                “How’s that lovely wife of yours?  Feeling any better?”

                “It’s still pretty rough,” I sigh. “She’s on anti-depressants now, but I’m not sure if they’re helping.  Work at least keeps her busy, but when she’s home with me it’s like everything is a constant reminder of our failed attempt to have children.”

                He shakes his head, hands leaned on the counter. 

                “I’m truly sorry, Den.  I sure wish I had words of wisdom to help you through this rough time.  Perhaps you two need a vacation, get out of the city for a while.  You can use our place up on the island if you want.”

                “I might take you up on that offer,” I say.

                “What can I do for you today, son?”

                “I just came to get some coffee,” I say.

                I spot my favorite brand on the shelf and grab it.  Jake quickly rings it up, offering Moses a dog treat.  I thank him and Moses and I head back towards the house.  I’m suddenly dwelling and stewing in my own misery.  I’m not ready to go back to the house.  Not yet.  I’m not sure how much more I can handle Larry the more he drinks and the way my wife looks at me with that pressing resentment in her eyes.  I know she blames me for everything.  Somehow it’s always my fault.  I should’ve gotten her to the hospital sooner, or I should have stopped her from taking Yoga for pregnant women.  There are different reasons why it’s been my fault.

                I live in the Beacon Hill neighborhood and my house is conveniently located near the look-out point where a lot of people like to take their dogs and take in a great view of the city from afar. I lead Moses over to the bench to sit for a moment, staring out onto the city and the rushing traffic that speeds by.  The lights of the sky scrapers are a glow throughout, as the fast lights of the rushing cars roar in and out of the city.  Bright lights from Safeco are shimmering in the evening sky as the Mariners are probably on another losing streak.  It’s a nice place I go to whenever I want to be alone.  No guilt to bother me, no remorse for Larry, just Moses, me and the city before me.  I think of my childhood and how I came here when I was a boy to watch them implode the old King Dome in order to build the Seahawk’s stadium.  I remember my dad bringing my sister and I here on Sundays as we explored different parts of Seattle.  Those were simpler times.  Now I’m not sure if there is such a word.  Between Larry’s divorce and the miscarriage, the word is practically moot. 

                Moses starts whining and nudges my hand.  That’s usually a sign to head back home so he can eat.  So we do.  I cut through the backyard to let Moses off his leash and into the dog run.  When I turn to head into the house I notice through the kitchen window Larry and my wife, having some sort of conversation and laughing about it.  I watch for a moment.  I’ve never seen either of them so damn happy and engaged.  I’m about to head inside when I notice they’ve suddenly stopped.  They gaze at one another and I can see that spark that naturally settles between them.  It’s the look of longing and desire and in that moment they lean into one another and exchange a long, passionate and deep kiss.  Now I feel like the one who is drowning.

                I don’t know what else to do at this point.  I just stand there like an idiot, watching my brother make out with my wife.  Had they planned this?  Is this the first time?  My hands start to tremble and I can feel the blood coursing through my veins in a violent rage, coming to a boil.    I hold tight onto the coffee can.

                Their lips part and I begin pacing around in the yard.  Do they not even see me?  Are they too caught up in the moment of the kiss to even realize they just kissed in front of me?  They stand there, gazing into one another’s eyes, looking so blissfully fucking happy that I want to put a bullet through my own fucking head.  I raise the canister of coffee to the level of my head and launch it at the kitchen window, causing a loud bang that startles the two of them out of their state of bliss.  The dog is getting excited and barks.  Amy peers out her window and spots me.  I can see her lips moving, saying, “Oh my God” as she stares at me.  Larry is at her side, mouthing the words, “holy shit” as he stares at me.

                 

                He comes out to the back yard.  If he comes any closer I will kill him.  I should kill him. 

                “I don’t know what you saw,” Larry says in a calm and thoughtful manner.

                “Fuck you!  You know exactly what I saw,” I say.

                “It was just a kiss, she was upset.”

                “Yeah,” I say unconvinced. “She sure looked upset.”

                “Denny, please come in the house.”

                My wife follows Larry out into the yard.

                “What?” I snap. “What do you want me to do?”

                “Come inside and let’s just have dinner.”

                “I’m not having dinner with you guys,” I say.

                “Denny, please,” she urges me to calm down.

                “I’m not having dinner with him and I’m not taking any more shit from you about the fucking miscarriage.  It wasn’t my god damn fault!  Okay?  I lost him too!”

I can feel the pain in my tears as I fight to hold them back.  The pain infused with rage and hatred. 

“Shit happens!” I say dismissively.

                “How dare you,” she snarls.

                “I hope you and Larry are happy together,” I finally say. “I really do.”

                “Come on, man, don’t be like that.”

                Larry reaches a hand out to me, but I back off and swing my fist at his jaw.  I can feel it crack against my knuckles, pain shoots through my fist and I shake it out.  Tears are streaming down my wife’s cheeks.  I quickly grab the dog, get in my car and drive off and head towards Jake’s.  A few days on Whidbey Island sounds like a great idea.

Shifter Story

Twenty years ago…

“Mommy, I need to go potty,” Shelly cries from the back seat.
She’s five years old and she holds a squirming kitten in her arms.  Her face is pale and white.  The only color she shows are her deep green eyes .  The only sound in the entire car, besides the engine, is the kitten’s cry.  Shelly’s mom, Jolene, drives frantically down the highway without even making a rest stop.  They’ve already been on the road for an hour and a half, driving down the 101 towards Astoria, Oregon. 

“Too bad, you’re just gonna have to hold it!”

“But I can’t,” Shelly cries. 

“Don’t you start that crying!  You know what happens when you do!”

But Shelly can’t stop.  She knows how much trouble she’ll be in if she pees her pants. 

“Stop it!” Jolene yells.

Her cry turns into a high pitched squeal, Shelly’s eyes swell with tears streaming down her cheeks. 

Jolene steers the car onto the side of the highway, just north of Longview, Washington.  She gets out of her car and jerks the back passenger seat open.  She grabs Shelly by her small shoulders, shaking her.

“Don’t you dare do that!  Don’t you dare do Satin’s magic!”

The shaking only makes Shelly cry even more and before she knows it, she shifts into a kitten; identical to the one in her lap. 

“Fine, you want to be an animal, be an animal.”

Jolene snatches both the kittens up by the collar and tosses them in a dog kennel in the trunk.  The kittens snuggle up with one another the remainder of the trip.

 

Duane is sitting on the porch, smoking his cigarette when Jolene pulls into his driveway.  It’s an unannounced visit.  Jolene gets out of the car and marches around to the trunk.

“Jolene?” He says. “What in the hell are you doing here?”

“I thought you might still be living here,” she says. “I came to drop something off for you.”

Jolene yanks the back hatch open and grabs the dog kennel with the twin kittens still huddled inside.  Duane looks at it, confused.

“Um…you shouldn’t have?”

“One of them’s your spawn, Duane!  I got pregnant with one of your demon-children!”

“What are you saying?”

Rolling her eyes at Duane, Jolene sets the kennel down and pulls out one of the kittens.  She sets them both down on the grass and in an instant, one of them shifts into a five year old little girl.

“Jesus Christ!” Duane reacts instantly, covering Shelly with his jacket.  “Are you telling me she’s my daughter?”

“You’re the only man I ever slept with after my husband.  This whole time I thought she belonged to him, it turns out she had been yours the entire time.”

Jolene proceeds to walk back to her car.

“Mommy, wait!” Shelly stammers to her feet, reaching for her mom.

“You can’t just leave her here!” Duane shouts.

“She’s your responsibility now, Duane!  What in the hell am I supposed to do with the spawn of Satin?  She’s where she belongs , if not in hell!”

Duane is aghast by Jolene, shaking his head.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Jolene!  I can’t take care of a child!”

“Mommy, don’t go!” Shelly cries.

Jolene ignores her cry and gets in her station wagon and pulls out of the drive way.

“Mommy!” Shelly screams. 

Over and over, Shelly cries out for her mom, pleading with her not to leave her.  Without a kiss, without a hug and even without a wave, Jolene pulls out of the drive way and disappears around the corner.  Shelly drops to her knees, her tiny little body shakes, reaching for her mom.

Duane just stands in the yard, feeling useless and overwhelmed by the sudden surprise on his doorstep. 

Present time…

Shelly sits at her desk, staring at her mom’s Facebook page, asking herself if she should send a friend request.  She ponders over the thought, with the cursor frozen over the icon.  Would she even accept?  Would she even know it’s her? 

Looking through her mom’s profile page, she found out that she went and had three more children with her husband.  A girl, a few years younger than Shelly, and twin boys. 

“Aren’t you coming?” Molly interrupts her thoughts.

“Yeah, in a minute.”

Shelly quickly exits out of Facebook and shuts down her computer. 

It’s Thursday and Molly and Shelly are at a Karaoke bar on Capitol Hill.   They weave their way through the crowd, drinks held high in the air, looking for a table to sit down at.

“Have you heard anything from your lover-man?” Molly shouts over the noise.

“He’s flying in from Atlanta tonight, but he was still dealing with his mom when we talked on Skype during lunch today.  She’s still fighting him on trying to get a piece of that money his father left him.”

Molly shakes her head.

“I don’t know why she’s even concerned; I mean she’s getting remarried to another billionaire anyway isn’t she?”

“Yeah, but as long as Nick is still the beneficiary, she’s gonna continue to hound him over that money.  I honestly don’t know how he’s going to get them off his back!”

Molly and Shelly sit at a table.  Up on stage, a guy dressed in leather and a sparkly shirt is doing a bad karaoke jam to American Pie.

“God, this is a long song,” Molly says. “And he’s not even halfway through it yet!”

“Wake me up from my alcohol coma when he stops!” Shelly says.

“So any chance you and Nick are going to consummate this relationship?”

Shelly looks at Molly, shaking her head.

“Molly, we haven’t even gone on a proper date yet.  We had one kiss and that was it!”

“Oh come on, Shelly!  He calls you on Skype just about every day at work.  I sometimes listen to your little conversations.  You are definitely toying with the idea.”

A smile sneaks across her lips, stirring the ice in her glass.

“Okay, I’ll admit that I have thought about it.  Making love to that man would be absolutely amazing!  But I’m giving it time.  I don’t want to rush it like I did with Steve.  That entire relationship was a complete train wreck.”

“Yeah, but Steve was immature, hormonal and reckless.  Nick is obviously more tamed.”

Shelly sighs, ”Yes, but still.  I don’t want to risk having nothing in common in our relationship, other than sex.  You know what I mean?  I don’t want that to be the only reason we have a good relationship.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, Shelly.  He clearly has feelings for you.”

Shelly whips her gaze at Molly.

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

Molly pulls out a selection of music to choose from from a thick catalogue. 

“So what shall we sing tonight?”

 

Once the guy singing American Pie finally finished his song, Shelly and Molly get up on stage.  The guitar intro to, “Man!  I Feel Like a Woman!” by Shania Twain starts playing.  The crowd cheers.  Molly and Shelly do their best to sing along with the lyrics, but the music is completely off key. 

“The best thing about being a woman, is the prerogative to have a little fun and,”

The crowd goes wild as they get more into the song.  Guys are hooting and hollering, the women are cheering them on.

“Oh oh oh go totally crazy, forget I’m a lady, men’s shirt, short skirts…”

The crowd sings with them, “Man!  I feel like a woman!”

When they finally finish their song, two young gentlemen approach them.

“Can we buy you ladies a drink?”

Shelly replies, “Oh no thank-“

Molly quickly nudges Shelly in the arm.

“That’s so thoughtful of you!”

One of the guys disappears to the bar the other one joins them at their table.  He’s young, probably in his mid-twenties.  He has a nice smile and is dressed nice.

“You ladies were pretty good up there!”

Shelly and Molly look at one another, laughing.  Shelly holds up her glass.

“A little liquid courage always helps!”

Molly proceeds to hit on the two guys in the bar, while Shelly sits back and watches.  She’s in no mood to talk to other men at the moment.  She’s too caught up in her thoughts of Nick.  The way he kissed her the last time she saw him, how tempting his lips were during lunch.  Shelly was longing for those lips, not the lips of a stranger.

The two men are Kyle and Wesley.  Both Seattle University students.

“So are you ladies college students, or what?”

“We work at Williams Ad Agency.  Shelly here is a copywriter.  She’s the one that comes up with slogans like, ‘Tricks Are For Kids’ and things like that.”

The two guys look at Shelly, their eyes widen.

“That’s so cool!  What about you Molly?”

“Oh,” Molly laughs. “I’m just a measily little assistant for Mr. Williams.  Not a bad gig except he’s going to make me go hunting with him.”

“That’s cool!   So do you ladies want to dance with us or what?”

“Sure!” Molly eagerly jumps to her feet and grabs Kyle by the hand.  He leads her to the dance floor.

“What about you, Shelly,” says Wesley. “You look like you could use a bit of fun.”

“I’ll take a pass, thank you!”

Wesley looks a bit disappointed, but kindly accepts her refusal.  They both sit, silently, as they watch Molly and Kyle dance together.  On stage someone is singing Jamiroquai’s “Virtual Insanity”. 

“You know it’s a bummer about Karaoke, is that there are some people who just don’t sing the song right,” says Wesley.

Shelly laughs.

“I guess it’s a good thing most of the people here are a little drunk.”

The music fades off and everyone claps for the guy up on stage.  The DJ makes an announcement.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, we have someone here would like to make a special dedication to someone in the audience.   We’re gonna let him sing it for her.  Everyone give him a round of applause.”

The entire room claps for the gentleman getting up on stage.  His back is to the audience.  Shelly sits at her table, sipping on her drink and waiting for the gentleman to start singing his song.  The intro to Exile’s “Kiss You All Over” starts playing.  The man starts bouncing to the music as if he were in a 70s band.  One person claps and hoots.  When the guitar starts playing, the gentleman turns to face the audience.  Shelly’s heart skips a beat when she realizes it’s Nick up on stage.  Her mouth drops open, she looks aghast.  He starts singing, looking seductively into her eyes from across the room.

                The very lyrics, “When I get home baby, I’m gonna light your fire,” sends a tremor throughout Shelly’s entire body.  The crowd cheers as he finishes the first set of lyrics of the song.  The electric guitar starts playing and he climbs down off the stage with his wireless microphone.  A spotlight follows him through the crowd.  He keeps singing as he approaches Shelly. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, babe, don’t know where I’d be.  You’re not just another lover, no, you’re everything to me…”

Molly is ecstatic!  Nick gently pulls Shelly up out of her seat and takes her in his arms.  He’s singing and dancing with her.  The crowd goes wild for them.  As the song creeps up on the main chorus, Nick kisses Shelly on the cheek. 

                People in the audience sing along with him, quietly. 

                “I wanna kiss you all over,” he sings. “and over again!  I wanna kiss you all over, til the night closes in.  Til the night closes iiin!”

                When the music finally fades out, everyone cheers wildly for Nick and Shelly.  Their lips tenderly touch as he holds her tight in his arms. 

                “I’ve missed you,” he says to her.

                “This is a nice surprise!  How did you know I was here?”

                Nick chuckles, “I saw Molly post this place on Four Square.  So I thought I’d surprise you with a song.  Did I stink?”

                “If you did I don’t really care.  That was the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me!”

                Nick slips his arms tighter around Shelly, his lips soft and moist against hers. 

                “Hey Nick, that was so cute!” Molly interrupts. “Come on over and join us!”

                Without even giving him time to respond, Molly drags Nick over to the table by the arm and introduces him to Kyle and Wesley.  Wesley waves at him awkwardly, then whispers to Kyle he’s gonna get more drinks. 

                “Wasn’t that just the most romantic thing you’ve ever seen?” Molly says to the table.

                “It was pretty sweet,” Kyle says.

                “Hey, Molly, do you mind if I borrow my girlfriend for a while?” Nick says to her.

                Molly smiles at him, knowingly.

                “Of course, take your time.  She’s my ride though, so make sure you bring her back in one piece.”

                “I’ll bring her right back.”

                Nick takes Shelly by the hand and they leave the karaoke bar.  They don’t even make it halfway to his car before Shelly pulls him close to kiss him.  Their breath is hot and shallow, their hands can’t stop wandering over each other.  Nick pulls them into an alley and braces Shelly up against the wall.

                “This is so dirty,” Shelly laughs as he kisses her neck.

                “I’ve missed you so much.  I’ve been thinking about kissing you all week.”

                “Yes!” Shelly is breathless. “Me too!”

                He slips his hands up under her top, caressing her breast as he kisses her. 

                “God, I want to make love to you so badly, Shelly.”

                “I told myself,” Shelly breaks between kisses. “That I would make myself wait for you, but I don’t think I can.”

                Nick stops and pulls away, gazing upon her.

                “You want to wait?”

                “Oh God, no!  Not anymore!”

                Shelly tugs on his shirt and pulls him close to her once again.  His hands snaking down to her backside. 

                All of a sudden Shelly notices the two guys from the bar walking away.  One looks like he’s carrying Molly over his shoulder.  The other is rushing down the street.

                “Nick,” Shelly nudges him away.

                “So you do want to wait?  I’m okay with waiting.”

                “No, I think Molly’s in trouble!”

                Nick looks to where Shelly is pointing to see the two guys walking further down the street.  Nick takes off, running after them, hollering at them.

                “Hey!” He yells out!

                They don’t hear him or they ignore him.  He’s still running after them and finally he catches up to the two guys as they put Molly in the backseat of their car.  She’s unconscious.

                “Where do you think you’re taking her?” He says to them.

                “Back off, fruitcake,” says Wesley.  “this one’s ours.  Go back to your girlfriend!”

                Nick yanks on the guy’s shirt and shoves him out of the way.  He reaches for the back door to try and get Molly out.

                Kyle sneaks up behind him and yanks him away from the car and punches Nick in the face.  Suddenly, a raccoon bites Kyle on the ankle.  It bites deep and hard.  Kyle cries out, trying to kick the raccoon off his leg. 

                “Get it off me!” He cries to Wesley. 

                The raccoon lets go just as Wesley is about to kick it.  It stands up on its hined legs, its eyes glowing.  Nick stammers to the ground, trying to maintain focus.  He sees the raccoon on its hined legs, its threatening glare frightening Wesley.  Nick quickly opens the back door again and pulls Molly out of the backseat.  He carries her all the way back to his car.  The raccoon takes off behind Nick. 

               

 

                Shelly sits on her stoop on the back porch of her apartment, sipping on coffee and recapturing everything that just happened.  From Nick showing up at the Karaoke bar, surprising her with a song, then Molly nearly getting kidnapped by a couple of college guys.  It happened so fast. 

                Nick comes out and joins her on the porch. 

                “Some night,” he says.

                Molly is passed out on Shelly’s bed inside.  Nick was able to carry her inside and let her sleep off the roofalin.

                “Yeah it’s been a roller coaster.”

                “The nerve of those guys.  I hear about this type of behavior all the time, but it’s never hit close to home like that before.”

                “I knew those guys were up to no good when they started talking to us.  Something about them just screamed red flag.”

                Nick’s hand gently caresses Shelly’s shoulder.  His hands gently mover to the side of her cheek.

                “I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”

                Shelly looks at him. 

                “Me too.”

                “It’s too bad we can’t really finish what we started in the alley back there.”

                “That doesn’t mean we can’t continue where we left off.”

                Nick pulls her close, his lips locking on to her s.  He pulls her close, his hands slipping under her top.  He pulls her over, she kneels on the step below him, her hands braced against his shoulders.  She can’t stop kissing him, pulling him close.

                “Oh God, Nick, I can’t help myself,” She says.

                “Me neither,” he groans.  “where can we take this?”

                Shelly knows it’s silly, but she leads Nick back into her apartment, into the bathroom. It’s the only other room with a door.  She pulls him inside, slamming him up against the door.  She yanks of his shirt, he pulls up the hem of her skirt.  He drops to his knees, his mouth hot against Shelly’s belly button.  Shelly arches her head back, quivering with every kiss he gives her. 

                She’s unbuttoning her top, every button revealing a piece of her flesh one by one.  Nick looks up into her eyes, and over her petite little body. 

                “Christ, you’re so beautiful,” he whispers. 

                He reaches up for her breasts, cupping them as he kisses her navel.  Shelly responds to the angst and desire of her body, her leg drapes around Nick’s shoulder.  The hem of her skirt is hiked up high enough that he can see the lining of her panties.  They’re attached to a garter. 

                “Holy shit,” he whispers. “How did I get so damn lucky to have a hot girlfriend!”

                Shelly laughs, her breath heavy and intense.   His mouth is hot against her, she cries out his name.  Her hands reach for the strands of his hair, and she loses control of herself completely.  He feels so good between her legs.  So heavenly.  She looks up at the ceiling, she can feel her eyes glowing. 

                Shelly’s phone ringing interrupts their heated passion.  Nick stops immediately.

“You can ignore that, can’t you?”

                Shelly wants to ignore it more than anything at this moment, but she can’t help but think it might be work calling.   She straightens her skirt out and slips back into her blouse.  She goes out to the living room to answer the phone.  It’s Duane.

                “Hey dad,” she says, breathless.

                Nick sneaks up behind her and kisses her on the cheek.  He goes into the kitchen for more coffee.

                “Shelly, it’s your old man. “

                “What’s up dad?  I’m kind of busy.”

                “I just thought I’d be the first to tell you.”

                “Tell me what dad?”

                There’s a pause.

                “Your mother passed away last night.”

                The shock comes at Shelly like a ton of bricks.

                “My mom’s dead?”

                Nick catches his breath, a sympathetic gaze melting over his face.

                “I’m so sorry, honey.”

                “How did you find out?”

                “A friend of mine in Aberdeen told me.  Said she died of breast cancer.”

                Shelly is silent, searching for the right words to say, but she can’t come up with anything.  She just looked up her mom and was about to contact her. 

                “There’s going to be a funeral for her on Sunday.  I thought you’d like to know in case you wanted to attend.”

                “Of course,” Shelly nods.  “I’ll be there.”

                “I’m so sorry, Shelly.”

                Shelly nods.

                “Thanks, dad.”

                Shelly hangs up her phone.  She looks up at Nick.

                “I heard,” he says. “I’m so sorry.”

                He takes Shelly into his arms, kissing her on the forehead.  The shock still settling in for Shelly.

                “Were you and your mom close?” He finally asks.

                “Not really,” she replies. “She gave me up when I was five.”

                Nick steps back, surprised.

                “Oh.  I’m sorry.”

                Shelly shrugs.

                “I don’t meant to bum you out with my baggage,” she says.

                “You’re not bumming me out.  Why did she give you up?"

Looking at Nick, Shelly didn't want to lie to him.  So she told him the truth the best way she knew how, without telling the whole truth.

"My mom had an affair with my dad while she was married to the Mayor of Aberdeen.  She discovered that I wasn't the mayor's daughter and she was afraid everyone was going to find out the truth during re-election.  So she gave me to Duane, my dad."

Nick purses his lips, wrapping his arms around Shelly.

"I'm so sorry."

Shelly shrugs.

"It was a long time ago."

"So you're going to her funeral?"

"I should," Shelly replies. "She was my mom after all."

"Need some company?"

Shelly smiles.

"I was hoping you'd ask."