Moving Man

MOVING MAN

I'm Ricky. I work for my brother's moving company. We do relatively small local moves for people, usually from one rental to another. We're cheap and convenient. My brother Beau has half-a-dozen guys who work for him regularly. He also has a landscaping maintenance business that gives him the flexibility to shift his men from one task to another. I'm the customer service, estimator, problem solver and sometimes supervisor. We have a few jobs a week, sometimes more, sometimes less. We're non-union which makes us cheaper and we can respond on short-notice.

I was assigned to give an estimate to a woman, Ms. Carter, who lived in an apartment on the west side of the city. She was moving her stuff to another place on the east side. I went to the apartment late one afternoon. I knocked on the door. A woman answered.

It took me a moment to recognize the woman. It was Stacy. She had been my first serious girlfriend. We had dated for a few months when we seniors in high school. Both of us were eighteen. She dropped me, which broke my heart and to be honest with myself, I hadn't gotten over her. She didn't give me a reason and I was too shy and humiliated to contact her again. There was no sex or anything, we were both pretty innocent.

We had gone our separate ways. I went in the Army for four years, then kicked around at odd jobs, got in some trouble and finally ended up back in my hometown working for my brother. I had done pretty well, maturing from being a fuck-up to where I had some level of responsibility. I hadn't seen or heard of Stacy for over six years.

"Rick. Is that you?" she asked.

I didn't know what to say. I just nodded. "Hi Stacy."

I said, "I'm here to give you an estimate for your move."

She invited me in. She could sense my shyness, so she proceeded to show me what needed to be moved.

"It's complicated." She said. "I'm moving out on my husband. I have another apartment on the other side of town. We're spitting up; getting a divorce."

"Sorry to hear that. Who did you marry?"

She told me, "Jeff Carter. I met him four years ago where I worked. I don't think you've ever met him."

"Yeah, I know him." I did know the guy and thought he was an asshole. I'd met him while working after high school before I went in the Army. He had given me a hard time, hassling me and such at work. He was a real prick. He made a point of trying to intimidate me and made a big deal about what a lady's man he was. I didn't give a shit back then, so I just ignored him. It was a shame that Stacy had ended-up with him, but it was good that she was dumping him.

Stacy proceeded to show me through the two-bedroom apartment, explaining that some things would go with her and some would stay. She said she and her soon to be ex-husband were still discussing what went with her and what stayed. She was wearing a crop top and while she was wearing a bra, I could see the outline of her nipples on her chest. Her tight tummy was very sexy, with a cute little navel that peeked out when she raised her arms. I was a little distracted by her and had to be careful to write down everything she said. She climbed on a little stool to get some dishes down and I had a nice view of her cute ass in her sweatpants. I was looking at her in a way that was different from how I had seen her when we were younger.

There wasn't that much stuff, so I thought we could pack and move her in a day. I gave her an estimate. She said she had been planning to get other estimates, but thought our price was really good and she knew me, so she agreed on the spot to hire us.

"When do you want us to move you?"

She said, "That's a little complicated. I want to have you move me when he is not here. We are not getting along and I'm afraid her will cause a scene over some of the things I'm taking."

"Okay. How do we work it out?"

"How much notice do you need?"

I said, "Normally we ask for at least a week."

She was quiet for a few moments, so I asked, "What would work for you?"

She said, "Could you come if I gave you a day's notice?"

That was really unusual, and we normally wouldn't agree with such short notice, but I was trying to get the job to impress my brother and I wanted to be nice to Stacy, so I said. "Okay. We normally don't do that, but since you're an old friend, sure. Let us know the day before." She was enchanting me, even though I hadn't seen her in years. I wondered if she knew.

She explained, "Jeff is a truck driver and I want to schedule the move when he is off on a run out of town."

It sounded like a dicey situation. As I said, I still had not gotten over Stacy and I guess I was a little jealous of whoever had ended up with her.

Now, let me explain more about me. I'd been with women, plenty of them. I'd been with a few women-soldiers and a few whores while in the Army. I had a local girl living with me while I was in Korea. I even thought of marrying her, but circumstances prevented it. I got caught with drugs and was shit-canned by the Army. Things moved very quickly, so I had no time to really think about taking Kiko with me. They moved me into the brig and sent me home within a few days. I'm sure she's better off without me.

After I was discharged, I bummed around the country for a while. I was arrested a few times, all misdemeanors and was into drugs and alcohol. I was pretty fucked-up for a while until my brother found me and brought me home. He was very strict and straightened-my-ass-out. I've been doing well for over a year. I've regained some self-respect and have initiative and enthusiasm for my job. I'm in softball and bowling leagues and believe-it-or-not, I go to church semi-regularly with my brother and his wife.

I had made my estimate, had checked on our office website to schedule a few guys to do the move and prepared the contract for Stacy to sign. She asked me to stay for a cup of tea and I agreed. I had nothing else scheduled for the afternoon. Seeing her bend over the table gave me a view down her shirt. I looked, but quickly moved to the side to be polite.

We had the uncomfortable (for me) conversation about what we had both been doing since I'd last seen her. I found myself looking into her eyes and she was looking back. I remembered her pretty brown eyes and looking into them while we necked on the couch at her house.

She asked where I had been for the past six years and I gave her a sanitized version, omitting specifics about the bad stuff.

She told me she had gone to community college for a couple of years and was working at a part-time job where she met Jeff. They got married a few months later and she quit school to get a full-time job and now was a receptionist in a doctor's office. She was rambling on about her mother and her sisters. She always was talkative with a pretty voice. At one point, she mentioned, "Jeff doesn't want kids, so we haven't had any."

"What about you? Do you want kids?" I asked.

She said, "I did, but it's okay. Kids are expensive and Jeff says he'd be a shitty father." Then she asked, "What about you?"

I said, "Sure. I hope to have kids someday."

Then she brought up the painful subject. She said, "I guess I wasn't fair to you when we broke up. I never told you why."

I shrugged, waiting for her to say more.

"My friends thought you were a geek and kept putting you down. I wasn't very self-confident and let them turn me away from you. You were always very nice to me."

It hurt to hear that, but I appreciated her being nice about it.

She said, "I've often wondered what it would've been like if I had stayed with you or the one other guy I dated after we broke up." She paused, "I thought that I had made the right decision when you never talked to me again."

"I was too hurt." I admitted, the first time I had admitted that to anyone.

"I'm sorry."

We were quiet for a while then she said, "We were so innocent. You were never pushy or anything. You just liked to kiss me."

"Yeah. You were my first serious girlfriend and I never thought of trying to do anything to disrespect you."

"Maybe things would've been different for both of us." She said.

"Maybe." I asked, "It's none of my business, but why are you guys splitting up?'

She sighed and said, "I've just gotten tired of him. He's very controlling and is totally into his things. He goes out drinking with his buddies and expects me to sit at home and wait for him, then serve him like a maid." She paused and added. "Or like his whore."

"Wow!" Was all I could say.

She was unloading, a bit emotional.

"He gets pissed if I want to spend time with friends or my family. He throws a shit-fit if he doesn't know where I am all the time."

"Was he always this way?" I asked.

"No." She said. "I really shouldn't be bothering you with all this."

I said, "It's okay. I like to listen to people. I always enjoyed hearing you talk."

She asked if I wanted a drink and I told her I didn't drink any more. "After I got out of the Army I was really into drinking and drugging. I've stopped. I don't drink anymore."

She smiled and said, "Good for you."

I laughed and mentioned, "I even go to church sometimes."

She asked where I went and I told her. She said maybe I could go to church with her sometime.

Then she continued, "Jeff got jealous after I slept with one of his friends."

I had a surprised look on my face. It was good she explained. "It was his idea. He wanted to screw his buddy's wife so they came up with the idea to swap wives. I was okay with it. His friend was a nice guy. After we did it, Jeff got jealous of me having a good time with his buddy. It didn't matter that it was his idea. He blamed it on me, saying I was teasing his friend and everything. I only slept with the guy once, but it broke his trust in me and he didn't respect me the same after that."

I was amazed to be talking to Stacy about her having sex with guys. I had to comment about her husband. "Sounds like he's an asshole, if you don't mind me saying."

She laughed and said, "That's about it. I can take some of that, but his rage is too much."

"Does he ever get physical?"

"A few times." She said.

"That's unacceptable. A man should never hit a woman. You shouldn't put up with it."

She challenged me, "Didn't you have to shoot women if they were on the other side when you were in the Army?"

"True, but that's different. If they were in uniform, I'd have to shoot." Then I said, "I've seen guys in the army who would hit their wives and thought they were shit-heads."

She nodded in agreement and smiled.

Talk turned back to the move. She asked if I would be with the crew. I normally wasn't. The crew had a supervisor. She said she hoped I would at least stop by and I said I would, for sure.

We laughed and I sensed it was time to go. She signed the contract, had my cell-phone number. As we went to the door, she said, "It's really good to see you again."

Then she gave me a light kiss on the lips and said, "You're sweet."

My head was swimming as I walked down the stairs from her apartment.

My brother was pleased that I had signed a client and understood the explanation of the need for short notice. I didn't tell him the client was an old girlfriend. Why did it matter?

It was few days later, in the evening, when I got the call from Stacy. "Jeff is going on a run tomorrow. Can you guys come tomorrow?"

"Does he know you are moving?"

She said, "No he doesn't. I can't face him and put up with his bullshit."

"I'll have our guys there at eight tomorrow morning."

I had to make a few phone calls and lined up three guys for the next morning.

We arrived with our moving van the next morning. (It was just a panel truck, not one of those big semis. The truck had plenty of capacity for her stuff.)

The three guys with me were Johnny, one of our supervisors; Rico and Sammy, two Central Americans who we used regularly. While Johnny about 5'10", Rico was a little guy like me. Sammy was a big dude, 6'5" and about 250 pounds. He could carry a couch or dresser by himself.

Things went quickly in Stacy's apartment. The three guys were moving along smartly with the wrapping of the dishes, glasses and other delicate items. Sammy and Rico began to haul the furniture to the truck. She was taking the bed and one easy chair, leaving the couch and a single bed. She took the kitchen table and chairs, leaving one chair for him. The appliances were owned by the landlord of the apartment so they stayed.

While I was watching our guys pack and load things, Stacy was moving around, getting things out to pack and making sure everything was going well. She was obviously nervous. I looked at her. She was older. She'd filled-out and matured as a woman. One place she had filled out was in her bust. Her butt had been just a skinny thing when I had dated her.

About two hours into the packing and moving, Stacy was walking away and I was looking at her.

She caught me and asked, "Are you looking at my ass?"

I was embarrassed and said, "No. I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for if you weren't checking me out?" Then she said, "I don't mind. Guys do that."

I didn't say anything.

She continued the discussion of her ass saying, "It's gotten fat anyway. I don't think guys look like they used to."

I smiled and said, "My, aren't we fishing for a compliment." Then I said, "You have a very nice ass."

She giggled and said, "Thank you."

Our crew was moving quickly and it looked like we would be finished loading before noon. I tried to look busy and tired to avoid being caught looking at Stacy's ass or her other features. But she had those pretty eyes.

The truck was almost loaded when out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter. I sprang to the window to see what was the matter. Looking down from the third-floor window, I saw a man hassling our workers.

"Oh shit it's Jeff." Stacy said.

"I thought he was working today?"

"He was. I don't know why he's here."

A few minutes later, he was up the stairs and cursing and shouting. "What the fuck is going on here?"

Stacy told him. "I told you Jeffrey, that I want a divorce. I'm moving out."

"Where the fuck are you going?"

I was standing in the adjacent room, the kitchen, listening.

She told him. "I have another place."

"Where?"

"I'm not going to tell you. I just have to get away."

"You're not going anywhere you little bitch."

She said, "You can call me names but it won't change anything."

She was standing up to him. I was proud of her.

He accused her, "Who are you going off with, you little whore?"

"No one. I'm going by myself. There's no one else."

He saw me and remembered who I was. He said, "Is that little Ricky? Is he the one you're going off to fuck?"

I said, "Hi Jeff. I'm just with the moving company. I didn't know it was Stacy until I showed up to give an estimate."

"Bullshit. She's always wanted to get back with you and fuck you."

She said, "That's not true."

I added, "I haven't seen Stacy for over six years."

He said to me, "I'm sure you're jealous. I've been fucking her. You never got any."

I said, "You shouldn't talk about your wife that way."

He said, "Fuck you!"

I'd had about enough. If I weren't on the job......

He started to bitch about the things she had taken. "Take the bed you whore. That's where you'll make your living." He looked at me and said, "She'll cheat on you like she cheated on me."

Stacy was pissed now, "I never cheated on you, you asshole."

He said, "You fucked my friend, Tommy. My ex-friend."

She said, "You wanted me to do it so you could screw his wife."

He raised his hand and swiped at her, slapping her on her cheek. She fell back onto the couch.

I stepped into the room. "Dude, I can't allow you to hit her while I'm here. Do I need to call the police?"

His response was predictable. "Fuck you, you little prick."

He moved toward me with his hand raised. Now, I had learned something about fighting in the Army. I wasn't the same guy who he had pushed around after high school. I waited for his first move. He swung; I grabbed his arm and I flipped him on his ass. He started to stand up, but he saw a shadow in the doorway. It was my crew member, Sammy who asked, "Is there a problem here?"

Sammy was a big guy. Jeff realized he was about to get his ass-kicked and be embarrassed in front of his wife. He muttered a few curse words and went into the head to take a piss. He came out of the bathroom mumbling and cursing.

He said to his wife, "Get out of her you little cunt!" Then, he left.

I went into the kitchen where Stacy was sitting with a welt on her cheek and tears in her eyes. She thanked me for stepping in and asked me to sit. She put her hand out for me to hold. I held her hand for the first time in six years. The crew finished loading the van and we got ready to leave.

When the crew had departed, she asked me to drive her to her new place. She hadn't wanted her husband to know where she was going and was afraid that he would follow her. I arranged for one of the crew to drive my car while I drove Stacy in her car.

She was moving around the apartment, making sure she had taken everything she wanted. She was all sweaty and said she needed to change her shirt. She had a tote bag on the couch. She had her back to me when she pulled her shirt over her head, revealing the back of her bra. It was a white, thin, one-hook model. I watched her take a shirt out of the bag and pull it over her shoulders. She was buttoning it when she turned to talk to me. I watched her finish doing the buttons, getting a good look at the front of her bra and the top of her breasts.

"You're flirting with me." I said.

She giggled and said, "I'm sorry. I thought you hated me after I broke up with you. It's nice to talk to you again." Then she twirled around, displaying her figure, "I still look pretty good, don't I?"

I couldn't help but agree. "You sure do. You're not a girl anymore."

We walked down and she gave me the keys to her car. I drove and we reminisced a little about friends we'd had and what had become of them. The drive took about forty-five minutes. She was moving about as far away as she could without leaving town. She said it actually was a little closer to her work.

Well, we loaded her stuff into the new apartment. It was on the second floor. It was more difficult carrying things upstairs rather than carrying them down. Once we started moving things in, she went to the grocery store to get some food.

While she was away, our crew leader, John said to me, "Are you going to get some of that?"

I didn't care for the way he spoke, but said, "I doubt it. She's an old girlfriend."

He said, "Well, you're a fool if you don't make a move on her. She has it for you. I can tell by the way she looks at you, man."

I was a bit stunned by that. I was just innocently flirting like I do with many girls. The possibility of renewing acquaintances with Stacy was an intriguing and unexpected idea.

When she returned, I helped her bring the groceries in and we flirted a little more. I couldn't help but notice her nipples poking through her thin blouse and bra. Somehow, another button had come undone on her blouse and I tried to catch glimpses of the top of her breasts and her cleavage without being too obvious.

It was about seven in the evening when everything was in the apartment.

I was getting ready to go. She signed the check for our work and the release papers.

She said, "Would you stay for a while? I don't want to be alone. This is all a little traumatic."

I acted reluctant. "Okay, for a little while."

We talked for a while. I found her to be the same person I had known, older, more mature, but she still had the personality and sense of humor that I liked. We chatted for quite a while I was sitting on the only chair in the living room, drinking a soda.