Chapter 5
Brock wasn't sure why, but he found himself guiding his truck down a side road on his usual route to work. It wasn't normal for him to do this, but his favourite song had come on the radio and he had gotten off to work early, so he decided to kill a few minutes and take the long way.
He saw the old, familiar gray coat of Neal Dash from far away and as he approached him he could see he was hopelessly scrounging around in trash cans for left over food. He found a half eaten apple and examined it thoroughly, before discovering ants had gotten to it first and he tossed it aside.
Rolling down his window, Brock slowed his truck down and smiled. "Hey Neal."
The old man whirled around, surprised to see Brock and he smiled. In the early morning light he could see that he had a few cavities and he was in need of some serious dental work.
"Hey there, Son." He winked at him and approached his truck. "Headin' to work?"
"I got a few minutes. You hungry? I'll buy you breakfast."
The old man looked down and dug in his pockets. Nothing. No one had stopped to offer him anything to eat and he had seen at least a hundred cars pass through this alley. Slowly, he nodded. The shame washed over his old, tired face again and he climbed into the truck.
The strangest thing about Neal Dash was he had no smell. He had no foul odor at all and Brock assumed he showered on a regular basis at the shower. Not all homeless people were dirty or unkempt.
Looking at Neal, though, Brock suddenly found a new respect for his luxuries.
He brought him breakfast and even sat inside the McDonald's with him. Sure, he would have been late for work, but he was chief of staff and could pretty much do whatever he pleased. Brock brought himself a breakfast platter and he offered Neal a little extra, even though the old man modestly ordered an egg and sausage biscuit.
The old man devoured it like it was the greatest thing on earth and Brock watched him before digging into his own food. The man's hands were bony and cold, they shook as he brought the food to his mouth.
Suddenly, Brock felt selfish and he pushed his breakfast platter towards Neal. Looking up, the old man smiled, and tears welled in his eyes.
"You didn't have to do that." He told him, but gratefully dug his fork into the pancake and put it to his mouth. "God bless you." He smiled. "So, how's you and that…girl?"
"My wife?"
"No, the other one."
"Oh…her." He laughed and shook his head. "Her marriage has hit a rough patch already, but I think her and her husband will work through it."
Neal took a sip of his coffee. "That's bad news for you, ain't it?"
"It sucks." He agreed with a nod. "But I can't tell her that." Brock smiled and leaned back in his booth. "So, you need a ride to the shelter? I hear it's supposed to rain pretty heavy tonight."
Shaking his head, Neal waved his fork. "Nah, don't worry about it, boy. A little rain ain't never hurt nobody." He took another large bite of his pancake and then a sip of his coffee. "What you do for a livin'?"
"I'm a neurosurgeon." He said, checking his watch. He did have a nine o'clock surgery scheduled and it was already fast approaching eight-thirty. "How come you don't have a job?" He asked, hoping he didn't sound too contradictory. He honestly just wanted to know. Brock knew no one would choose to be homeless.
The old man's blue eyes clouded over and he looked down, as if he was remembering a distance, faded memory. "The day they laid my wife and daughter in the ground was the day I lost my will to do anything. Didn't care about money, or a job then…I let myself go. Darn near grieved myself to death." He offered Brock a smile, but it was filled with a sadness.
"Did they ever catch the guy who killed them?"
"Oh, yea, but charges were dropped due to some nonsense. But you know, I forgive him for what he did. I ain't got no hard feelings towards anyone." He finished off his coffee and nodded his head. "That's the way God would want me to live out my life…"
This man was like a saint. He wasn't sure if he could handle the death of the woman he loved and his own child. He sure as hell probably wouldn't be able to forgive the idiot who caused it to happen.
He wanted a change of subject. "I better get going to work. Do you need a ride anywhere?"
Neal finished off his breakfast and shook his head. "No, don't you worry 'bout me. I'll probably stick around here for a while. Sometimes these workers in here let me have the leftover food at the end of the breakfast hours."
Before he left, Brock placed a wrinkled five dollars on the table. He wasn't sure why, but he really felt sorry for this man. It wasn't like him to be sympathetic towards anyone, but something about Neal really seemed genuine and he felt as if he owed him something for saving his life.
"God bless you." He said again and stuffed the five dollars in his pocket.
Misty was waiting, she was just waiting for the moment when Ash's car had disappeared out of the driveway. She figured Ash had hid his dirty magazines or any letters for any old girlfriends or flings around pretty well and she had a whole day of searching in front of her.
Then again, if and when she did find something, how would she confront him about it? Well, she was a housewife. And housewives find pretty interesting things when tiding up the home, so she could say she found it completely on accident.
First she started with the bedroom. Ash's sock drawer was clear. His underwear drawer was clean. And even though she figured she wouldn't find anything in his shirt drawer or pants drawer, she looked anyway.
Nothing.
Next, she tried the closet. Sure, some of her stuff was in there, too and it would be a stupid place to hide a Playboy, but it was possible. Still, nothing but shoes and dresses and some of Ash's dress shirts along with his tuxedo.
Then, an idea struck her. Of course, under the mattress. She could have saved a lot of time if she had just looked under there in the first place. The queen sized bed was tough to lift, but she did and her suspicions were confirmed.
There, laying sandwiched between the mattresses and the box springs was a playboy. A blond girl with intense blue eyes was on the cover, looking at the camera with a seductive look with nothing but a skimpy bikini on.
Misty rolled her eyes and pulled it out. It was outdated by five years and it was no doubt it was one of Brock's old magazines. She actually thought she had seen the same cover in Brock's backpack at school just before graduation and he must have handed it down to Ash.
She flipped to first page. Naked woman with long black hair. A busty redhead on the next. An ad for men's cologne. And then another blond stood against a wall, licking her lips in a seductive gesture.
This was absolutely degrading and disgusting and what the hell did these women have that she didn't? Fake breasts and airbrushed bodies? She threw the magazine down on the bed for later discussion with Ash when another magazine fell out of the middle.
Misty wasn't sure what it was at first, but when she picked it up she realized it was a Playgirl. A playgirl, not a playboy. She didn't know which one was worse!
She looked at the top right corner to find the date, and she knew it had to be purchased within the last seven months because it was not outdated. She dropped it back on the bed, then picked it up again and flipped through it, just to confirm what she already knew.
Page after page, there was naked men. All built very nicely, and exposed everything. There was erotic pictures of guys kissing, some just posing completely nude, and others were ads of gay dating sites.
Nausea swept over her. Was that magazine really Ash's? Did he try to disguise it with a playboy magazine so that incase she did find it she wouldn't find what he was really hiding? She felt light-headed from shock.
Ash wasn't gay. This had to be someone else's or had somehow gotten mixed up with it. She suddenly wished she had been snooping around. She would have much rather thought he was looking at a playboy than at a gay magazine.
Misty had to get out of the house, she had to talk to someone. She glanced at the bedroom clock. It was just after three o'clock, Brock should be home soon if not already…but Lucy was probably there.
Did she really want to discuss this embarrassing discovery in front of another female? Sure, Lucy had been her friend since college, but to admit your newlywed husband might be gay was not very flattering. It was a nightmare.
Picking up her phone, she called Brock's house and Lucy was the one who answered.
"Hello, Harrison residence. This is Lucy Harrison." She twirled her hair on her finger.
"Hey, Lucy, it's Misty."
"Oh! Misty!" Her tone changed from professional to light-hearted. "You sound upset. Everything alright?"
Well, so much for keeping this from her. Sighing, Misty explained to her that she needed to talk to Brock as soon as possible. "Is he home?" She asked, hoping that he was.
Lucy made a small sound from the back of her throat as she peered out the window, seeing his pickup truck just pulling into the driveway. "He just got here. Should I tell him you're on your way?"
"Yes. If it's alright. I just…have to talk to someone."
"Anytime, Girl." Lucy said with a smile and hung up.
Misty tucked both magazines into her purse as if they were evidence of some vial crime. Then, she went out to her car and drove as fast as she could to Brock's house. It was a ten minute drive, but Misty made it in five.
When she knocked, Brock was the one who answered. "Hey there." He greeted her leaning against the door frame.
"Hey…" She said, as he offered her inside and she brushed past him. "Do you mind if I stay for dinner? This might be a little hard for me to talk about…"
Lucy and Brock exchanged a glance of worry and confusion.
"Sure. You know you don't have to ask. You're always welcome here." He said, placing his hand on her back. She tensed up and felt that strange feeling of attraction and erotic sexual tension.
Lucy watched from her seat on the barstool at the island in their kitchen.
"I'm making chicken parmesan." Brock informed her with a smile. "I know you used to like that."
"Still do." She said with a smile, taking an almost timid seat beside Lucy.
"So, what's bothering you?" He asked, after putting the chicken in the oven. He handed her a glass of iced tea and she took a sip to quench her dry mouth. "Is it about Ash?"
Nodding, Misty reached for her purse and pulled out the playboy. "I found this under our mattress."
Brock grinned and raised an eyebrow, taking a long, appreciative look at the blond woman on the cover. "Ah, yes. I remember this. I gave this to him back in high school right before I went off to college. I can't believe he still has it."
"That's not really what's bothering me." Misty confessed and Lucy looked over at her, while Brock flipped to the first, second and then third page. "In fact, I wish that's all I would have found."
"He had more?" He asked, never looking up from the magazine until Misty snatched it away from him. Lucy gave him an annoyed look and he simply grinned, but his grin faded when another magazine fell out onto the counter.
"He was using it to hide that!"
"Wow!" Lucy exclaimed, snatching up the gay magazine. "These men are gorgeous!"
Misty just sighed and rested her chin on her hand. "They're also gay. I mean, what is he doing with a gay porn magazine?"
"Can't say for sure." Brock stated truthfully with a shrug. "The only thing I can tell you to do is to talk to him about it. I knew a buddy in college who kept playgirls for practicing art."
"Ash isn't exactly an artist…" Lucy pointed out, turning the page of the magazine. Brock looked over at her and rolled his eyes. She could at least try to be a little more sympathetic towards Misty. He could see the worry, hurt, and anger in her eyes.
"Lucy, honey…" Brock spoke up and reached into his back pocket. "Can you run to the store for me and pick up some more cheese? I forgot to on my way home." He handed her his check card and she took it.
"Alright. Mind if I pick up some other things?" She asked, grabbing her purse and slipping on her stilettos.
"Knock yourself out…" He told her, and watched her as she exited the kitchen. Neither one of them spoke until they heard the front door close.
"I'm sorry about her. She can be a little…insensitive." He apologized for his wife constantly, but Misty just shook her head.
"It's fine." Her voice quivered, and she leaned forever on her elbows as she felt her emotions overtake her. "Brock, I'm so confused. I don't even know what to do. I don't even feel like a woman anymore…I just…"
He stood up from his chair when she started to sob and he outstretched his arms. He pulled her into a hug and stroked the back of her hair, lovingly. No one should ever make anyone feel like this. First, she had felt unattractive, now he had taken the feel of her femininity away. No woman should ever had to suffer that loss.
"Hey, listen to me…" He pulled back from her and she looked up at him, wiping a tear away from her eye. "You are no less of a woman than anyone else. You're gorgeous and I'll be damned if I let Ash, or anyone else make you feel any less than that." His hand brushed her cheek and she closed her eyes.
"I don't feel beautiful. I've never felt that way…" She opened her eyes and looked up at him. He was very sexy and mysterious. She had always thought he was, but he was very unapproachable at school. He was the kind of guy who walked down the hall and all the girls just stopped and stared.
A guy like him would have never went for her. After all, she wasn't popular or pretty, and the only reason he did talk to her is because they were forced to be lab partners, and he had made friends with Ash while they were on the football team together.
"Maybe it's time to change that." He whispered softly and leaned down to kiss her. His lips were on hers before she even knew what was happening, and he pushed her against the counter, deepening the kiss with more force.
Her lips parted immediately and she moaned out at the sensation of his tongue against her own. He was talented at this, unlike Ash. She could feel herself becoming reluctantly aroused and she didn't want to stop.
But she had to. She was a married woman and she was kissing a married man. A very attractive married man who's hands were stealthily making their way up her skirt. His skin felt rough, but gentle. Demanding, yet inviting.
No wonder Lucy was addicted to sex.
She groaned, forcing herself to stop enjoying this wonderful sensation. When she looked back at him, she could see the lust in his eyes, the way his mouth hung slightly open. Never in her entire life had she ever been kissed like that.
"Brock…"
"I'm sorry…" He apologized, immediately, fearing she was angry with him. "Wow…" Leaning against the counter, he tried to catch his breath and he looked over at her. He could see it in her eyes, they both wanted it again and she really didn't want him to stop.
But they were both married, even if it wasn't happily ever after.
"That can't happen again." Misty told him, looking away, twisting uncomfortably.
"I know it can't." He rested he hands on the counter and sighed, calming himself down. They were quiet and stuck in a painfully awkward situation until Lucy came home. Bags of groceries in her hands, she walked in and smiled.
"Dinner ready yet?" She asked, eyeing the magazine that still sat on the kitchen island.
Misty picked it up and put it back in her purse. She didn't want to look at it. It was a cruel reminder that she just had to confront Ash about it later.
To say the least, Misty felt bad about what she did. She had kissed a married man, and not just any married man. A man who was married to her best friend. On top of all that, she was married herself. Perhaps if something was going on with Ash, she deserved it.
Karma came in strange ways.
She sat in her living room, knowing Ash would show up at any moment and she prepared herself for the imminent fight that was going to happen, but she promised herself she wouldn't be too hard on Ash.
After all, she had a little secret of her own now and she was planning on keeping it.
Then, she smiled. She thought about when he kissed her, the feeling of his fingertips on her skin and where he would have touched her if she hadn't stopped him. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine that feeling again and it gave her goose bumps.
Her fantasy was short-lived however and when the front door opened she got her mind out of the fog it was in. Ash walked into the living room and he saw Misty sitting on the white leather couch that his mother had given them as a housewarming gift.
He found it odd she was not watching television and she didn't even have a light on, besides the small one that rested on the top of the entertainment center, which they only used as a night light.
"Hey, Misty, what are you sitting in the dark for?" Ash questioned, curiously.
"Ash, sit down. We need to talk about something." She set her glass of water on the coffee table in front of her and reached for her purse. His heart was racing, something wasn't right.
"O-Ok." He stammered, reluctantly. He wanted to jump up and run out, but he knew she wouldn't let him get away with that. After all, she had chased him around for years until he bought her a new bike after destroying it by parking it in front of a school bus.
Misty didn't just let things go so easily.
"What's this?" She pulled out the playboy magazine, still concealing what she was really asking him about inside. Ash started to sweat and he stood up, trying to snatch it from her, but she hid it behind her back. "Answer the question."
"It's a playboy." He said, cotton-mouthed. "It's old. It's Brock's from way back in the day."
"Oh really?" Misty stood up, still keeping the magazine out of reach and she stood over towards the light more, then flipped open the magazine. Ash's face turned pale. "Is this year's edition of--" She stopped and flipped it over the read the cover. " 'Playgirl' Brock's as well?"
She shuddered at the thought of it.
"Well, no…but I can explain."
"You better."
Ash sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Look, Misty, I have to be honest with you. I'm not exactly large down there." He blew his breath and looked away from her, embarrassed.
"I knew that when I married you." She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to continue. "What does that have to do with this?"
"I'm getting there." He stalled for a moment and rubbed his forehead. "So, sometimes I get these magazines to compare myself. See, that's why I was hiding it in the playboy. I get excited when I look at those women and then I look at myself and the guys in those magazines to see if I'm as big as they are…it's a guy thing, Misty. You wouldn't understand."
Misty walked over to the trashcan and stuffed both of the magazines inside. "Maybe I don't. But I'm sure Brock would understand. I'll call him and ask him if he does it as well…" She picked up her cell phone, but Ash grabbed her wrist.
"Damn it, Misty, why do you always run to him about everything?" He scowled at her, squeezed her wrist harder before letting go and ruffling his hair, nervously.
"Well, you said it was a guy thing. So, wouldn't Brock do it as well? He's a guy…"
"Brock's a different kind of guy." He assured her. "He's been with tons of woman. Never had any complaints about his size or his performance. He's loaded with confidence…and me, well, I'm a virgin. I have no experience whatsoever." He buried his face in his hands and Misty's face softened.
So, he was telling the truth? Suddenly, she felt extremely guilty about kissing Brock earlier. "Ash, I'm sorry. I jumped to conclusions."
"It's fine. I should have just been honest with you about it sooner." He looked at her in the dim light and kissed her softly. It was a tender, gentle, loving gesture, but it failed to make her feel close to him. When he kissed her with those sweet, caring kisses, all she could think about was the way Brock had kissed her with demanding dominance.
The way she had felt the heat spread throughout her body and the area between her legs tingled at the sensation of his touch and the taste of him.
Eventually Ash pulled away and smiled. "We should wait a while before we have sex. We need more time finding out what you do and don't like." He paused for a moment. "I talked to Brock about some things and he gave me some advice."
How ironic that he would mention Brock just as she was thinking about him. How ironic that he would give Ash tips on how to satisfy her sexually. Without hesitation, she agreed. Tonight was not the night to make love to her husband, especially when she had another man on her mind.
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