Trinket & Pieter Chill Out
(c)2010 Erik Nelson
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events and places are conceived in my mind and are born and raised in the bits and bytes on my computer.
In memory of Rachel and Tom.
"Yello."
"Hey Pieter. What's happening?"
"Hi Rachel. Just hangin'."
"Tom and I are going to the condo this weekend. Wanna go?"
"You don't have to ask twice."
"Oh, we'll be bringing a friend. We expect to be there about six, Friday night."
"Great! See ya then."
As I am hanging up the phone, I am chuckling to myself. I have known Rachel and Tom for quite a few years now. I thought for sure they'd be married by now but they keep telling their parents they don't want to go there and aren't looking for babies. However, they are very committed to each other. I am chuckling because of Rachel's 'friend' remark. Either she is jealous of my single life or she feels a concern that I will remain a unattached. Rachel and sometimes even Tom seem to make it their duty to fix me up every chance they get. Setting up blind dates for movies, concerts, dinners, what have you. Some of the women I had an interest in, but most had some baggage I didn't care for. A lot of those dates were just tedious and I tried to bow out as much as I could get away with. When they bought the three bedroom, two bath, ski in/out condo, I couldn't bow out of that offer. You see, I have a passion for skiing. I have been skiing all my life and after college, I worked as a patroller for a couple of years before I felt the need to get a real job.
So, every other weekend and most holidaze, they would invite me up the condo knowing I couldn't refuse. Darn near every time, they would bring a 'friend', hoping I might take a shine to one. Yeah, sure. Like the one who spent all weekend crying about something. I never figured out what. Then there was that one who just wanted to sit in the bar and drink. She was drunk by three Saturday afternoon and passed out by six. I didn't see much of her on Sunday, either. How about the one who didn't even ski. Just spent the whole weekend with her head buried in a book. I'll never forget Nancy. She seduced me Friday night and we ended up spending the whole weekend in bed. I found out later, she was married at the time and was using me as retaliation for the problems she was having with her husband. Rachel apologized but I told her I didn't terribly mind being used in that fashion. It's not like I fell in love with her or anything. There were a couple of gals I kinda liked but they seemed really cold to me. I don't know where Tom and Rachel find these women but I play along with their game because they are good friends and, when they are not trying to fix me up, we have a great time together.
I am thinking about all those attempts to get me hooked up as I am driving to the resort. It is becoming sort of like one of those 'reality' shows on TV that have come to be so popular. Every other weekend there is a new cast member who adds drama to the mix then goes away never to be seen again. I am mildly curious to see who the newest character will be. It started snowing like crazy about fifteen minutes after I left my house which gave me another half hour to reminisce about these 'friends' rather than the normal hour drive. One of these days, I will start to pay more attention to the weather. I pull into the condo parking lot around 6:30 with about eight inches of snow on the ground. Yep. There is their car. Leaving my skis on the rack, I grab my boots and bag and bound up the stairs to their unit. Rachel greets me at the door with a great big hug and I give Tom a strong embrace also.
"How was the journey?" Tom asks.
"It was hell. Snow was flying so thick it was hard to see where I was going. I was in four wheel drive most of the way. I hope there is still some scotch left."
"Yeah, there is. Nobody else drinks it 'cept you, so if you didn't finish it off last time, it is still here."
I pour myself a stiff drink of The Macallam 25. A fine whiskey I bought especially for drives like I just made. It gets stressful when I can't see more than fifty feet ahead of me. The fat flakes were coming down and being reflected on the headlights. The normal identity to the road was covered in white and I had to scramble for clues to find out where the road goes. I am sipping my drink engaging in small talk, beginning to feel relaxed, as Tom tells me that, when he and Rachel heard of the storm, they took off work early and only had to endure fifteen minutes of those awful conditions. I really need to start checking the weather. Rachel then informs me of reservations for dinner at seven four blocks down the street. I think of the friend as she is not here.
"So, Rachel. I thought you had mentioned a friend that was going to be here. I'm curious to see who you have come up this time."
She laughs. "You've got me figured out, haven't you."
"I will never assume I have you figured out." Rachel laughs again.
"Trinket decided to go for a walk when we got here. She'll meet us at the restaurant."
"In this storm and cold?" I ask incredulously. It's about five degrees outside.
"She said she wanted to stretch her legs. Drink up it's time to go."
Intrigued, I finish my drink and we are snow people as we arrive at Shoosh Mon's, a Jamaican/French restaurant. As I am brushing the whiteness off of my coat and hat, and watching the people come in, I see a woman walk in shaking and stomping as the sparkling snow floats off her on to the atrium floor grates. She pulls off her hat and runs her fingers through her thick, jet black tresses that fall just about to her shoulder blades. I can't help noticing her curves. Nice curves. Sexy curves. Perfect curves. She hesitates for a split second as she sees me and smiles a nervous smile. Her smile gets bigger as she recognizes Rachel and Tom. She comes over an gives Rachel a hug.
"Trinket, this is our good friend Pieter, the guy I told you about."
"Hi Pieter. Nice to me you." Extending her hand, her voice is reminiscent of birds singing their song on a beautiful warm spring morning.
"Hey, Trinket. How was your walk?" My fingers wrap around her sweet, delicate fingers.
"Ooh. Extremely delightful. It is so quiet as the snow muffles every sound except the crunching and squeaking of my boots against the cold snow. Kind of hypnotic."
"I know what you mean."
I do know what she means. I have been there many times myself. Our table is called and as we are being seated, I, beyond my control, position her chair and move it in as she sits down and seat myself next to her. I see Rachel raising her eyebrow. I ignore that gesture. The next couple hours are spent in delightful conversations. Trinket would nudge me in the side in response to a joke I told. I would slap her hand playfully as she tries to steal my desert. Our knees, with their nervous energy, bump against each other. I, seeing some of her hairs on her face while she is talking, brush those wisps away from her intense, deep blue eyes. Even Tom is raising his eyebrow now which I, again, ignore. We finish our dinner and the two bottles of wine and take that walk back through the falling snow. Tom and Rachel leading the way with us lagging behind arm in arm. You know. It is slippery. We might fall. I'm falling. We get back to the condo and make our preparations for bed and the coming day. As I am preparing the coffee pot, Trinket comes in the kitchen wearing a silky mid thigh nightgown covering her luscious body. I admire her bare legs and hazard to guess there is nothing underneath her sleep wear.
"Hey, Pieter. It is nice being with you tonight. I am looking forward to skiing with you tomorrow."
"Me too. You're great company to be around."
She hugs me. What a soft and warm feeling and such a good fit to my frame. I am savoring her smells as I embrace her longer than I hugged Rachel earlier in the morning. Much longer than I embraced Tom. Lightly massaging her back. My hands are confirming my guess. I feel her hands massaging my back and I am just getting ready to kiss her when she pulls away.
"Goodnight."
"See ya in the morning."
I finish my preparations for the morning and crawl into my bed. I don't fall asleep too fast though. Rachel and Tom may have gotten it right this time. Uh Oh.
I am wide awake at 6:30 am. The snow in the parking lot is now about fourteen inches. I have my constitutional and shower noticing the feminine smells and accouterments in our shared bathroom. By 7:15, I am starting to prepare breakfast. I do not claim to be a chef by any means, but I like the ingredients involved in the morning meal. Today, I decide to cook what I call a Mexican omelet. I adapted the recipe from an all inclusive vacation to Mexico a while back. Heat up the griddle, whip two eggs per person, and have everyone prepare little ramekins of what they want in their concoction. Pour the eggs on the griddle, dump the ingredients, let cook, fold into thirds, flip and voila, a tasty breakfast. Add meat and bread and it becomes hearty. Tom and Rachel have become used to me cooking breakfast so they are not surprised. The reaction from Trinket is a mixture of surprise and disbelief. I just blow that off. Big deal. A man cooks and yeah, I clean up. Why the wonder? As we sit down to eat, Trinket turns on the TV. It's ten degrees outside and the wind is blowing as we savor our morning repast listening to the weather report. The forecast tells us that the storm should be over by two or there abouts. By 8:15 the kitchen is cleaned up and I am ready to hit the slopes. Tom and Rachel say the conditions are too nasty for them and they are going shopping this morning. I am excited about the fresh snow.
