Mind Wheels

This story is one of many to come. My goal in 2012 is to write a minimum of two short stories a month. With last month’s post of “These Dying Days” and this post, I now have January covered. Tonight I will work on the first February story, leaving me a week to get totally caught up. In fact, I believe I will work at writing a weekly short fiction piece. I will commit to Fiction Fridays. Please feel free to comment…

Her words slapped him like windshield wipers on high.

“You have to stop calling me so much. I get sick of trying to juggle everything. I don’t need you making life more complicated. You also need to check with me first on things like this.”

Nick stood in the doorway, face taut and eyes welling up. Each word felt like a glass shard that pierced his chest.

“What do you want me to say? Nothing you’ve said is true. You know its not true.” Nick averted his eyes.

“Just because I didn’t say no doesn’t mean I wanted to participate you know.”

“No, I don’t know. How would I? If you don’t tell me, then how the hell am I supposed to know?”

“Don’t be twisting things around on me, Nick. You always do that.” Vicky slipped her feet off the bed onto the oak wood floor. The ends of her blond hair, soft as silk and straight as uncooked spaghetti, came to rest on her breasts just above her nipples.

“What are you doing now?”

“Getting dressed. What does it look like to you?”

“C’mon, Vick. Why do you have to get like this?”

She pulled a sports bra over her head and plumped up her breasts with both hands. “Look, I wasn’t the one who manipulated this sordid meeting. All I am to you is a piece of meat. You use me, then I wait a couple weeks to hear from you.”

“How can you say that? Vicky, you’re the one who’s married. You’re the one who can’t get away for weeks at a time. You’re the one who won’t answer my calls.” Nick straightened a bit taller and puffed out his chest. “I’ve done everything I can short of making a major scene.”

“Oh, yeah, you like that don’t you.” She pulled a tight turquoise sweater over her head and smoothed it down her body. Her curves stood out tantalizingly apparent. The combination of the sweater combined with skin-hugging leggings dragged his eyes up and down her torso. She sat back on the bed and laced the leather straps of her high heels around her ankles up to the bottom of the leggings. “You get to play the martyr because you have little control over when you get to screw around.”

“Well, I don’t have any control, do I? I just have to sit around and wait. That gets old, you know?” He glanced around the bedroom. He eyed her keys on the nightstand and inched his way that direction while she primped in the dresser mirror.

“You want to know what gets old? Listening to you complain after I put out like this.” She pulled out a pink lipstick tube and touched up her lips.

He slipped the keys into the pocket of his pants hanging on the bedpost with a slow deliberate motion. “Is there something wrong with me wanting you to stay?” He inched his way back to his previous position beside the door.

Vicky spun around and searched all the flat surfaces in the room. “You just going to stand there naked all night? Help me find my keys.” She knelt to the floor, on hands and knees, to look under the bed.

“Look, if you’ll just hang out fifteen more minutes, I’m sure we’ll both be better off in the long run.” He bent over, plucked his boxers off the floor, turned them right-side-out and put them on. “After all, you don’t have to be home for another hour by your own admission.”

Her head popped up from the other side of the bed. “Look, Nick. While the sex is good and all, you’re not quite the conversationalist I prefer.”

“Ouch. I thought you liked me.” His chin crept closer to his chest. His vacant stare led directly to the air conditioner return vent on the floor.

Vicky stood, fell face first onto the bed, then propped herself up on her elbows, hands under chin. “Aw, Nick. Why do this? You’re a great lover. We’ve talked about this. I’m not going to leave Caleb.”

Nick shifted his weight from his left foot to the right and back again. “You know I love you, Vicky. I want you to stay. He doesn’t even treat you right. You said so yourself. What does he have that I don’t?”

“Money.”

“Ok, so he’s rich.”

“Our children.”

“You’d get custody and you know it.”

“Partial custody. I don’t love you Nick. I never said I love you.” She stood up, walked out the door, down the hall to the kitchen and turned on the light. “Where did I leave my keys?”

Nick followed, snuggled up behind her and cupped her breasts. As he nibbled her left ear he whispered, “One more go. C’mon Vick.”

She whirled around, kissed him and pushed away. “What’s going on here, Nick. I see the wheels spinning behind those blue eyes. You’ve got something planned, don’t you. You hid my keys.”

Nick glanced away, a sheepish look on his face. “You got me. She’s coming over any minute.”

“Now I get it. Now, where’s my keys?”

“She’s really sexy.” He shot a look back her way.

Vicky let out a deep sigh. “Nick, I think you and your internal mind-wheels misjudged the situation. I may be open to a lot of things in bed, but another woman…we never discussed anything like that. I’m not interested.” Her right hand jut out his direction and she placed her left on her hip. “My keys. Now.”

Nick let an exasperated breath out, then took a sullen stroll back to the bedroom. He reached into his pants pocket and withdrew the keys with a metallic tinkle. “I had hoped…”

“I get it Nick. At least the two of you can have some fun.” She strode up to him, kissed his cheek and walked to the front door.

The doorbell rang. “That’ll be her. Would you let her in as you leave?”

“Sure, Nick. She better be foxy,” she finished with a wink his way.

She opened the door.

“Vicky?”

“Caleb! I can explain…”