Note: It has been a while since I last thought about this story. This new piece may not be within the same tone as the other parts were, because life has changed a bit for me—and as such, my mood has too.
*
But above all, hopefully this will be a pleasurable read for those who have been looking forward to it.
And no, there are no parts with sex, yet. I'm working up to it. Patience is a virtue...and so is trying to write a credible plot.
I barely saw my breath disperse quickly as I ran.
The weather was colder now. Summer was slipping away.
Esquivo was right next to me, taking the easy jogging pace we often ran at. He had begun growing in his short, thick plushy coat. I was also finding those soft plushy hairs all over the furniture too—no matter how pretty they were.
Either way, he seemed somewhat satisfied as we ran. The only thing that could make this better for him is if the lead I was holding was not on him, and if a chicken ran by.
For a small moment I was lost in my run. My thoughts jumped frequently as I jogged onward. I guess that is probably why I never get bored of running, I think to myself. I can always find something to think about.
And soon I was back to thinking about my housemate.
Since my dream (or more precisely, dreams), I had tried to be politely professional with Beauregard.
It helped that he had a girlfriend already.
Beauregard had introduced me to her one of the nights I had off. He had been kind enough to have her come over when I was around for the first visit—to be sure Esquivo would be okay with her.
Esquivo was indifferent to her, just as she was to him.
Her name was Angela. She was the type of girl I could see Beauregard with: long wavy blonde hair, brown eyes, average height, and slight parts to her curvy body. Essentially she was what one could call the fraternity/sisterhood model.
I was not entirely sure about her brains yet. I didn't try to engage her in conversation. I just wasn't interested, and it was very clear that she felt the same way about me—if not a little more so. I couldn't tell if I had stepped on her toes already by not being friendlier. I wasn't even sure how to ask if I had.
Beauregard seems excited about her, and that is great for him. Apparently they met through his friends. She decided that she wanted to learn ASL.
Now she is here quite often. First it was once a week. Now it was almost every day.
I did my best to not be the third wheel.
I'm a home body. So, to give the two of them space to work on ASL (or whatever it was that they wanted to do), I began spending my free time helping the Jameson's.
Today I would be working on that huge pile of trash that has been sitting on this property since they moved here.
My aspirations are high, I know.
Even the small things I can do are a little helpful, and that is an unappealing job just waiting for a third wheel to take on.
I gradually eased my pace until I was walking. Esquivo took his liberties with every tree, post, bush, and grassy stem that looked like a viable marker for his territory.
With a quick stop at the house I grabbed one of Esquivo's long lines and switched him to it. He impatiently wait for me outside as I grabbed garbage bags and plastic gloves from under the sink, switched out my running shoes on the porch so I could watch the antsy-plotting canine, and soon walked over the half acre to the Jameson's house.
Mrs. Jameson, who was quick to tell me that everyone called her by her first name, Marian, would not probably be out quite yet. She was bordering on the frail side, and the cooler mornings were heckling her joints.
I tied Esquivo's lead to a tree near me as I eyed my foe.
The trash pile had been contained by rusty wire fencing. Its height was around six feet. All sorts of items lurked in its rotting depths.
I pulled on my gloves with a squeak that had Esquivo tilting his head, his tail patting the ground softly.
Before I start I pulled my cell phone from the rear pocket of my jeans (yes, I run in my jeans) to get some music going.
As I worked the music went through all sorts of genres. Classical, Soundtracks, Country, Soft Rock, and even some Pop. Mostly it was an array of music that kept me from giving up on this task.
I had filled around ten bags of trash when I saw Marian walking towards me. I could tell from here that it was definitely an inside day for her today.
I yanked my hand free from a glove to turn off my music.
"I can see that you've kept busy this morning," Marian commented as she eyed the garbage bags.
"Yep," I replied as I looked at all that was left of the trash—which didn't look as though I had even touched it yet. "It is a day I can spend outside with Esquivo while doing something."
"I think you've done plenty," Marian said, "how do you feel about a cup of hot tea?"
"That sounds good," I said before adding, "after a lot of soap and water."
"Ah, that is true. I'll give you some time to wash up first. I will get the tea kettle on."
I nodded in appreciation as I closed the garbage pen back up. Esquivo was ready for me to stop being such a drag and do something different now, so it was easy to wrap his lead across my shoulders so I could carry the trash to the area where the bins sat.
It took me three trips, the last being just the two bags (which was a relief to my arms). Esquivo couldn't believe I had tricked him into walking with me for such a dull chore.
The (almost) dreaded walk to my house left me almost in a prayer.
Please let there be no sight of fondling, clothes without people, or orgasmic groans coming from any part of the house as I quickly escape to the upper floor, I thought to myself.
I unraveled the lead from around myself as I ascended the stairs to the porch. Esquivo licked the door in his usual friendly way, as if licking the door would make it open faster.
Once we were both inside I tossed the gloves, ran upstairs, took that shower, changed clothes, and was back downstairs in less than half an hour.
"Okay Esquivo," I said quietly. He launched himself from the couch as a giggle erupted from a room downstairs.
I was beginning to feel like that cat.
You know the one I'm talking about. The one that has eyes like an owl, walks around like thumb tacks have been layered across the floor, and jumps at every noise. All because I was trying to desperately avoid a run-in with my crush and his girlfriend.
I was fumbling with Esquivo's lead clip like the man in Titanic with the keys to open the gate when I heard a louder burst of girlish laughter, which then abruptly dwindled off.
I gave that obligatory wave as I was leaving since Beauregard was waving kindly at me. Angela just stared at me, so I decided to not wave or say anything. She was utterly unimpressed that I was alive and living here in this house.
Without a look back at the door, I head over to the Jameson's. Marian was sitting out on the porch with a tea kettle set. It was so kind of her to have our visit outside, knowing that I had my ward to care for.
"That was quick," Marian said.
"Yes," I sighed, a little too heavily.
