Here it is, chapter 3. I hope everyone enjoys it. Big changes have come and more are coming with future parts. If you haven't read the other stories, you may be pretty lost. Start with Becky's Marine and work your way through. Don't forget to rate, comment and leave feedback. I greatly appreciate it all.
Special thanks to Rnebular for his editing and suggestions.
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Dawn came all too early, the sun filtering though the curtains cast little rays of light around the room like tentacles of joy. I hated the early sunrise. Winter was coming and the days were growing shorter and colder. Soon we would get the first snows and, much like it was every single year growing up in California, everyone loses their goddamn minds when there is water on the ground in either solid or liquid state. I turned the events of last night over in my mind, mildly disturbed yet oddly curious.
Over the past several days Becky's mother, Samantha, had been mercilessly and, rather blatantly, flirting with me. It wouldn't bother me as much if she didn't do it in front of everyone. I've gotten to assuming that her father, Jeffery, either hasn't noticed or doesn't care. He did raise a fuss the other night when a couple punks tried picking up on our respective women, but that's the most I've gotten out of him.
Becky had apologized many times for her mother's behavior, understanding it was her low tolerance for alcohol that was doing it. What struck me as worrisome was the old saying "in vino veritas," in wine, truth. People will often speak their hidden thoughts or desires when under the influence of alcohol, leading me to believe that, while we just think nothing of it, she desperately needs the attention of one who will treat her the way she wants to be treated.
Whoever that person turns out to be, it won't be me. Not without express written permission from Becky, signed by Becky, myself and witnesses. I learned that lesson a long time ago and won't make that mistake again. I lost the love of a real good woman that way, but I guess things happen for a reason right? Without that hard earned knowledge, I'd have never met Becky.
I looked to my left at the sleeping form of Becky, her brown hair strewn about on the pillow as she tossed and turned in her sleep, her body covered by the blanket. I thought about brushing her hair aside and giving her a kiss, but I decided to let her rest. She was a lighter sleeper than most and it would be a crime to wake such an angelic being.
I looked towards Lauren on my right, covered by her own blanket. Becky was a cover thief and I'd noticed over the last few nights that Lauren didn't try and hold onto them, letting Becky take as much as she wanted. Lauren was cute, with the same brown hair as Becky and their mother, but she didn't captivate me like Becky did. Becky sang a song that only I could hear, and it was beautiful.
Checking the alarm clock on the side table next to Lauren, I saw it was just after 6 AM. Far too early for me to be awake, but apparently my body had other plans. I decided to get up and make some coffee, climbing down to the foot of the bed as gently as possible so as not to wake the girls. Just as I got to the door, Becky moaned softly.
"Bring us coffee or you don't get to sleep here anymore," she said, not opening her eyes. I smiled and headed to the kitchen to start the pot.
I looked over our selection of coffee. Jeanna was quite the fan and had bought a dozen different brands and strengths. I thought about a nice, strong dark roast but decided to go with the ultimate wake up coffee, Death Wish. Forget double brewing coffee, or as we called it, super coffee, this stuff was pure caffeine disguised as coffee beans.
As the coffee brewed, I grabbed my jacket and stepped out for a smoke. The morning air was crisp and the breeze that blew cut straight to the bone. The sun had crept over the distant hills and illuminated the flat, wooded landscape in Kentucky that we call home. Temperatures in the low 40's had been called for this week and I smoked as fast as my body would let me, desperate to get back inside to the warmth.
As I put my cigarette in the ashtray, I noticed the property next door was for sale and made a note to check how much they wanted for it. Land was cheap in Kentucky compared to California where I grew up. Hell, it was almost free. Carl and I paid about $250,000 for our 4 bedroom, 2 bath house on 2 acres, which would have easily been $650,000 where I grew up.
I went back inside and grabbed three coffee mugs from the cupboard, filling each and carrying two down the hall to the girls. I've been with Becky long enough that I knew by placing it on her nightstand, she would drink it and request a refill be brought to her. If she could stay in bed and be waited on by me, especially on a lazy Saturday, she would. I set the cups down on the dresser, quietly told them that coffee was on and exited before they could say much.
Winston joined me in the kitchen shortly after, pouring himself a cup and chatting with me for a bit about work. I gave him the basic rundown on distillation and separation, how reflux and product draws work and how nasty byproducts like hydrogen sulfide are delt with. For how dry of a topic it can be, he seemed genuinely interested, especially in the distillation part, and kept asking very pointed questions about different cuts and draws.
"You seem awfully interested in what most people find extremely boring. Am I missing something?" I asked him.
"Well, to answer your question, I have to give you some background," he began. "I studied construction and metallurgy for a time at university and, while I worked hard to pay for it, I found I never had enough money for the things most college kids want, alcohol and women.
"I figured if I could make some side cash I could afford to take a woman on a nice date, but I never had that money from work and there was no overtime available. My mate and I decided to try making our own alcohol."
"Ah, moonshine," I said with a smile.
"Precisely. We had this grand idea that we could become the English version of the Duke boys. Running moonshine around campus and the town, making piles of money and running from the law." The image that popped into my head made me chuckle a bit.
"Unfortunately, our liquor was complete rubbish. We tried all sorts of things to make it better, but it was so bad I wouldn't give it to prisoners on death row. We gave up eventually, but I've always fancied trying again."
"Shit, it's just basic distillation. Maybe one day we can build a still and make some," I offered.
He smiled. "I'd like that, but isn't it illegal?"
"Sure," I said, "but I figure if we make it for our personal consumption, who else is being hurt by it? It's not like we're trying to put Jack Daniels out of business."
It was his turn to laugh. "I don't think we could do that if we tried."
"Oh I think you could," Becky said from the hallway. "But why would you want to?"
"To reap their profits I suppose," I replied with a laugh, getting up to give her a hug and kiss. Lauren came down the hall shortly after, wide awake and buzzing.
"What did you give us?" She asked quickly.
"Death Wish."
"Is there more?" Her hand was trembling slightly, no doubt from the caffeine rush.
"Yeah, but I don't think you need more. You're awake enough already."
"Should I bring some to Samantha and Jeffery?" Winston asked.
"Only if you want to. Remember, you're not their butler on this trip," I said.
He rose with a nod and filled up two coffee cups, bringing them down the hall to Lauren's room where her parents were staying. We made idle chatter while Winston was gone, running over things that needed to be done and things that we would like to accomplish while we had their parents here.
