Szot, JC - The South Window (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Page 2

  “Where are we going?” Allie buckled in.

  “I need to go to the farmer’s market.” She swung the car around then barreled down the driveway, leaving a trail of dust behind them.

  Landisville, Indiana wasn’t what Allie would call a hopping community. Its primary resources were farming and limestone mining. It was a rural, blue-collar town. If you didn’t go to church or play bingo, then there weren’t many other social functions to choose from.

  Tess downshifted then stomped on the accelerator. Allie felt her body plunge forward then pull back in her seat, the engine winding out at its maximum speed. Tess’s hair whirled around in the convertible breeze, Allie’s ponytail taking flight behind her.

  They careened down County Route 5. Open fields outlined with split rail fences passed in Allie’s periphery before Tess downshifted again to turn into Hillcrest Farm. Strategically dodging the potholes in the dirt lane, she pulled up adjacent to the produce stand and killed the engine.

  “What are you going to get?” Allie opened the door, eyeing the produce stand filled with three-dimensional colors of red, purple, and green.

  “Oh, some luscious fresh fruit, maybe some eggplant. I’ll find something.”

  Allie noticed her flat expression reflecting back at her in Tess’s huge white-rimmed sunglasses.

  “I’m having our neighbor over for dinner.” Tess winked. “You gotta get in the game, Allie.” Tess hopped out of the car, readjusting her skirt.

  Not surprised in the least, Allie followed her up to the stand, eyeing the strawberries, wondering if Dan was coming home and if she should make strawberry shortcake.

  * * * *

  On the way home Allie asked Tess to stop at the Main Street Market so she could pick up two steaks. It was a gamble, but if she had a no-show she could just chuck them in the freezer. It wouldn’t be the first meal she’d put on ice.

  When Allie stepped off the curb, she saw Tess through the overhanging trees that lined Main Street in Landisville. She was loading a box into the trunk from the liquor store. Allie passed a group of men congregating in front of the general store, sipping their beverages of choice, sharing the local gossip.

  She walked toward the car, watching Tess shift her bags of seduction around to make room for the wine and beer.

  “So when are you going to ask Marty over?” Allie asked, already painting an intimate picture of the two of them. Tess was so predictable.

  “I think I’ll pay him another visit tomorrow. Tonight I’m going out to Readington.” Tess glanced over at her. Allie’s envious reflection stared back at her once again.

  * * * *

  “Okay, I’ll catch you later.” Tess waited for her to gather her bags.

  “What’s in Readington? You’ve been going there a lot lately.” Allie checked her expression. This was Tess’s fourth or fifth trip. It was a lengthy ride for one evening.

  “A night life. Sure beats staying here, taking a cold shower. But hey, I live rent-free, so everything has its price, right?” She pulled her dark, rich hair up, catching the breeze on the back of her neck. “You of all people should understand that.”

  “No one knows better than me,” Allie muttered.

  “See you, girl.” Tess accelerated, popped the clutch, and was gone. Allie watched her disappear into a tunnel of dust. Whatever was in Readington must be good if Tess was willing to travel that far.

  * * * *

  “I’ll be home, Al, but only for one night. They need me to go to Chicago.” Dan’s tone sounded regretful, but Allie couldn’t be sure if it was authentic.

  “Well, I’ll fix dinner, okay?” She reclined on the bed, gazing out the window at Marty’s house.

  “Sure, that’ll be fine. See you tomorrow.”

  Allie waited for Dan to hang up first. She always did. Why this was, she didn’t know. Maybe she thought she’d be able to hear some kind of incriminating background noise. She often questioned if he was having more fun than she was.

  Chapter 3

  “Al, where’s my dark-gray suit?” Dan was rummaging through the closet, getting ready to leave after what felt like a two-hour stay. She slid out of bed, reached in front of him, and slid the hangers across the bar, producing the suit.

  “Hey, thanks.” He kissed her, his freshly shaven skin sliding against hers. “Are you all right?” He reached over, caressing her shoulder, his gray-blue eyes searching through her.

  “It feels like you just got here,” she sighed.

  “I know, babe, I’m sorry, but Jim’s wife is still on chemo, so I’ve got to step in.” He tilted her chin.

  When Allie wasn’t face-to-face with Dan, she had more nerve, but as he stood here in front of her, she withered like a dying flower. Allie tried to rejuvenate herself, soaking him up. His body smelled like fresh linen right off the line, his hair gelled back, falling into sandy-colored waves.

  “Don’t you ever miss me?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

  Dan shook his head. “How can you say that?” His eyes narrowed.

  “I’m sorry, really I am.” Allie raised a hand, attempting to soften the blow.

  “Listen, Al, I’m always busy, constantly under the gun. I’m not sitting around ruminating. Maybe you’re bored.” He took his suit over to the bed, slipping it into the garment bag.

  “It’s not like I don’t work.” Allie dropped into the chair in front of her dressing table. Dan tossed his shaving kit into his bag.

  “I know, Al, I mean something else…a hobby, maybe.” He came toward her. Allie stood up, slipping her arms around him.

  “When all this simmers down, we’ll take a trip, how’s that?” He peered down into her, softening her insides.

  Allie nodded, holding him close, breathing in his scent.

  “We’ll go wherever you want—Aruba, Mexico—hey, we’ll go to Italy if you want to, okay?” He cupped her face, his kiss soft.

  Over Dan’s shoulder, Allie saw Marty out the window, resting two pieces of lumber over a pair of workhorses. The loud shrill of an electric saw soared through the air. Dan released her, turning toward the window.

  “He seems like a decent guy. He sure knows how to maneuver that saw.”

  After dinner last night, while Dan was outside cleaning his car, which was a ritual before leaving for every business trip, Allie had seen him mosey across the lawn, extending his hand to Marty. The two of them spoke for awhile. While Allie was doing the dishes, she kept looking outside to see if Dan was still talking to Marty, her curiosity pulling her.

  “Well, I better get a move on so I’m not waiting to get my bags checked all day.” Dan turned and grabbed his jacket, slipped it on, then zipped up all his bags.

  Allie followed him downstairs and out to his car, the saw still chewing through the lumber. Sawdust spewed from the blade. Marty glanced over, giving them a friendly wave.

  Dan tossed his bags into the trunk of the Audi then leaned over and kissed her. Allie didn’t watch him pull out this time. She climbed the porch steps and entered the house without looking back, alone again after their brief visit.

  She began rifling through the cabinets, seeing if she could make Marty something to welcome him to their sedate neighborhood. She knew she couldn’t compete with whatever Tess had made, but she would be polite, as Tess had suggested. Allie decided on a cinnamon swirl coffee cake. She had some gourmet coffee she could bring over to go with it to help break the ice.

  The sun was streaming through the kitchen window; lemony light danced across the dark-brown marble counter. Allie placed two sticks of butter inside the microwave to soften, then went upstairs to get dressed.

  Allie made the cake for Marty and spent the day doing designs for a new friendship line of cards the company was trying to launch for the upcoming fall season. She had plenty of time to get ahead with her work, especially if Dan was considering planning a trip. Allie was unsure whether that would become a reality or not. One way or the other, she’d be ready.


  * * * *

  Around 7:00 p.m. Allie heard Tess’s tires screech out of her driveway. Her house was diagonally across from her bedroom window, giving Allie an informative view of her activities. The sprawling acres of land that their houses were built on had, at one time, been a large dairy farm. The lots had been subdivided gradually over a span of fifteen years. Marty’s house was the oldest in style, a simple Cape Cod. Her and Dan’s house was more contemporary, with large vaulted ceilings, glossy hardwood floors, along with ivory-marble tiling in their bathrooms. Allie’s kitchen was the star of the show, contemporary and spacious, done in brown and beige. All of her appliances were the newest stainless steel.

  Tess’s house was the newest of the modern monsters, a massive, two-story brick home with overhead arches and French doors off the master suite, along with an inground pool in the back. Allie cringed at the acceleration of Tess’s car engine. She still had the top down, a white scarf over her head, her lips painted a bright fuchsia.

  Allie took this as a good opportunity to go see Marty. She walked across the yard, the evening dew dampening her toes. There was a dim light lit in the kitchen and another in the front room, which Allie knew was the living room.

  She and Tess had peeked in the windows of Marty’s house many times prior to his arrival. Allie recalled the day when Tess was tempted to break in and have a look around, but Allie had put her foot down, demanding that they didn’t. Allie knocked lightly on the door. She wondered if he’d seen her coming, the front porch was immediately flooded with light.

  “Allie, hello. Good to see you. Come in.” Marty ushered her inside, swinging the door closed behind them. His appearance was considerably cleaned up, compared to their last meeting.

  “I just wanted to give you a little something to welcome you to the neighborhood.” She felt a slight heat warm her face.

  “I appreciate that. Between you two ladies I won’t need to go shopping.” He smiled.

  He had a soft shadow on his face, the results of being too pressed for time to shave.

  “This smells outrageous.” Marty jammed the bag of mocha java-flavored coffee under his nose. “Let’s brew a pot.”

  Allie followed him into the kitchen. The country-blue walls looked granite gray in the dim light. He still had boxes lined up against the wall and on the counter. He filled the carafe and spooned the grinds into the basket.

  “So what’s in here?” He lifted the foil off the cake. “Nice, I love this sort of stuff.” He reached into the cabinet for two plates and a pair of mugs. “You can eat this anytime—breakfast, dessert.” He turned to Allie. “Right? Who cares?” He shrugged.

  Marty brought everything to the rectangular oak table. The back of his hair was still damp, a water spot visible on the back of his white muscle tee.

  His eyes looked darker than they had through the binoculars, now a rich, cocoa brown.

  “Sit, Allie, please.” He waved her to the table.

  Allie sat while he poured their coffee. He returned the pot to the warmer then turned on a small overhead light above his stove. Marty sliced two thick slabs of the cake, handing Allie hers.

  “So, um, I guess your guy’s off again on business, huh?” He stirred his coffee, glancing up at her intermittently.

  “Yeah, he had to go to Chicago.” Allie stared out the bay window, noticing his workshop out back. “So what are you planning on doing with all that wood?” Allie pointed out back, attempting to keep the conversation moving, not wanting to elaborate on Dan’s high-powered schedule.

  “Well, I’m hoping to finish my chest of drawers. I’ve been working on it for almost a year. It’s just about done. I only need a few more pieces.” He looked at her over the rim of his mug, sipping his coffee.

  “So… you build your own furniture?” Allie’s eyes returned to his.

  “Yeah, it’s a hobby of sorts.” Marty leaned on the table.

  Allie chuckled, hearing that word again, and twice in one day.

  “I’ve sold a few pieces, but I can’t build on demand, you know.” He laughed. “Whenever someone asks for something in particular, I clam up, sort of like a writer’s block, I guess.”

  His smile revealed two front teeth that had a slight gap in them. His face was seasonally creased due to years of hard work, but strikingly handsome.

  “Dan mentioned that you’re an artist. What’s your specialty?” Marty cut himself another piece of cake.

  “I do greeting cards for a company in Missouri.”

  “Wow, interesting.”

  The room grew quiet for a moment. Allie glanced into the living room, a ceiling fan was spinning. Two brass sconces glowed on either side of Tess’s front door, her house amply seen through Marty’s living room window.

  “So your friend asked me over to her place for dinner tomorrow. Will you be there?” His brows lifted in question.

  “Oh, no.” Allie laughed, thinking of how Tess would love the idea of her tagging along to dinner.

  “Any heads-up you can give me on that front?” Marty laughed, shaking his head.

  Allie knew he was fishing. She wondered if Marty was laughing directly at Tess or just laughing, a restless nervousness maybe. Tess could be intimidating.

  “Oh, not really.” Allie didn’t want to say anything wrong, so she chose to play it safe. “She’s divorced, I think. I don’t know.” She waved her hand dismissingly. “It’s been pending for so long.”

  “Allie, you ever work with furniture, like stenciling or antiquing?” Marty pushed his mug away.

  “I’ve stenciled, but only on Sheetrock, not wood. Why?”

  “I have a bench that I wanted to paint vines on for the front porch. Would you look at it for me?” Marty raked his hands through his hair. “I can’t see myself doing that kind of painting, even with an instructional kit. You mind?”

  “No, not at all.”

  Allie now felt that she had something to contribute to the life of her new neighbor. Marty pushed his chair back.

  “Let’s get more coffee and go out to the workshop so you can take a look.”

  “Great.” Allie stood, waiting for Marty to top off their mugs. She followed him out the back door. They stepped over the large, flat stones that lined a path out back to his workshop.

  Marty had a frayed tear in the back of his jeans. With every stride Allie could see his white boxer briefs. He stepped gingerly over the stones in his bare feet then slipped on a pair of old sneakers that were outside near the door. He pulled a chain that hung from the ceiling. A blinding, white light flooded the room.

  “Oh, sorry about that.” He glanced back at Allie shielding her eyes.

  Once the short-lived ache left, Allie began scanning the room, looking at what Marty had in his workshop.

  Chapter 4

  “You like that?” Marty rested his hand on the back of the chair.

  Marty had several pieces of plain, unfinished pine that lined the walls. There was a small bookcase and a unique-looking coffee table. It was the rocking chair that caught Allie’s eye. She walked over to it, running her fingers over the smooth-sanded wood.

  “It’s lovely. Way too nice to be out here.” Allie met his soft brown eyes. Marty laughed, the lines around his mouth and eyes deepening. He had an appealing ruggedness to him, a far cry from Dan’s suit-and-tie cronies.

  “Let me stain it, and it’s yours,” he offered.

  “Oh no, if you have plans for it…”

  “I don’t, it’s yours. Tomorrow I’ll stain it. You do the vines on my bench, and it’s a done deal.”

  “Great.” Allie sat down in the chair and rocked back and forth. It cradled her back perfectly.

  Marty showed her the bench. It was small with a curved back. Three hearts were cut out of the top, an Amish type of design. Allie told him she’d bring over all her green paints, and then he could decide. There was plenty of space for both of them to work. The shop was a long and narrow building, reminding her of a covered bridge. There w
as a narrow workbench that ran down the entire length of the back wall, with shelves above.

  * * * *

  When Allie got home there was a message from her supervisor, Vicky. She wanted her to start thinking about some holiday themes and submit a few ideas over the next few weeks. Here it was eighty-six degrees with high humidity, and Vicky wanted snow scenes, wreaths, and cardinals. Allie and Marty arranged to do their painting and staining on Monday. Allie knew tomorrow evening was his field trip over to Tess’s house.

  * * * *

  The next day Allie worked all day. She designed four new drawings for the Christmas season that she thought were worthy of considering.

  That evening Allie had just sat down to a plate of bowtie pasta and a glass of wine when she saw Marty making his way over to Tess’s. Allie couldn’t help but wonder if Tess would try to sack him on their first date. Allie wouldn’t put anything past her. Tess had made the mistake of leaving her binoculars in Allie’s studio. That could wind up working against her. Tess’s nosiness had rubbed off on her, which Allie wasn’t proud of.

  Perched at the windowsill before bed, all Allie could see were the flickering flames of the outdoor fireplace casting a glow in the nighttime sky. Allie knew they were out back near the pool. No man could resist Tess. By the time Allie fell asleep, she knew Marty was already a branded man.

  * * * *

  Allie woke to a pelting rain, a rushing river of water flowing through the gutters. She’d just gotten dressed when there was a tapping on the sliding glass door at the back of the house. Allie padded through the living room. Marty was standing outside, his wet clothes hanging off of him.

  “What are you doing out there? Get in here,” she scolded him.

  “I thought I could make it over here, but I guess not.” He stepped inside, the water pooling at his feet.