Southern Comfort Ch 03

There are more than two dimensions in life. We tend to recognize only the obvious. The waking world where life is predictable, and the underworld, where anything can happen and usually does.

But, there's a dimension where life is not so cut and dried; everything isn't simply black and white. The people who live there shift between dimensions. They walk a line between two worlds like apparitions and we never are quite sure whether they are real or simply a figment of our limited imaginations. They don't belong anywhere specifically, yet they are all around us. Given a glance, they might even look like you. Or me.

*****

The warmer temperatures of spring always brought violent weather to the south. Storms scared me. They always had. It was the time of year when Roger prepared his bikes for riding during the summer. His favorite had just come out of the shop a couple days prior, and he was eager to try it out.

He stood back and proudly showed it off to me. "Well, when are you going to take me for a ride on it?" I asked. He seemed surprised by my request.

"Would you like to go now?" he asked. "We could go to the bar and have a few drinks. Maybe we could play some Pac-man?" he suggested. I nodded and hurried to throw on some jeans.

We spent a short time playing video games and drinking. The weather suddenly turned bad and I could hear the rain and wind outside. It made me more than a little nervous. Roger stood up and announced that he was going to check his bike. When he returned a moment later, he was pissed.

"Let's go!" he snarled at me.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"The wind dumped my bike in the parking lot. The tank is ruined! Let's just go. I want to get it home and see how much damage it did," he huffed.

I was crushed. We were having one of those days when we were being civil to one another, and now, because of the bike, he wanted to cut that short. It was still raining when we exited the building. Our townhouse was only two miles away, but the rain was falling steadily and I had no jacket.

With the speed of the moving bike, the raindrops hit us with the fury of stinging bees all the way home and by the time we got there, I was soaked to the bone and furious at him. I swore never to ride with him again. It wasn't about getting wet, or the sting of the rain. It was the fact he displayed more attention and concern for the bike than he did me.

**********

I had long ago made up my mind that there wasn't much of a future for me in New Orleans. Jon coming into my life had sent me in a new direction. Still, deciding to leave wasn't completely outside the realm of possibility.

At twenty-one, my life was already complicated, but I had no idea just how complicated it could get. A few wrong turns and you wake up lost. Suddenly, you're just going around and around in circles. I was ready to take my hands off the wheel and let someone else do the driving for a while.

Two days before my birthday, I picked up the phone and dialed an old friend.

"Hi!" I said when a familiar voice answered.

"Well, hi, yourself!" I heard a low chuckle.

"Are you busy?" I asked.

"Never too busy for you, Kitten. How are you?" he asked. "You sound good."

"I am. How about you? Are you being good?" I asked cheerfully.

"Yeah. Well, you know how it is. Good is a relative term," he countered. "Did you get my card?" he asked.

"Not yet. When did you send it?" I asked.

"Last week," he replied. "I thought you'd have it by now."

"Well, Grandmother probably hasn't gotten around to forwarding it yet. I'll call her when we get off and see what's up," I said. My grandmother had been forwarding mail from Lee to me for the past six years. This time, I could sense something in his voice. There was a reason he wanted to know if I had gotten it. "What does it say?" I asked.

"The usual. Just that I'm thinking of you," he said sounding somewhat distant. "Is there a reason you called, Cindy?" he asked.

"Now that you mention it, there is," I replied. I could hear a stiff silence on the other end. "I thought maybe you might like to get away for a few days. I called to invite you down," I said. "Since it's my birthday, I thought maybe you'd come help me celebrate, Lee. We've never been together on my birthday," I pointed out the obvious.

There was a long silence. "You know I'd like nothing better than that," he said.

"But?" I asked already disappointed.

"But, I can't," he said flatly. "Not now."

I felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me. "Is there something I should know?" I asked.

"Like what?" he replied.

"Like, maybe you have other interests now?" I asked. "Have you met someone?"

"No, Cindy. It isn't anything like that. It's just that I have some business to attend. I'm going to be out of town for awhile," he replied.

"Oh. Where are you off to?" I asked finding it difficult to hide my disappointment.

"It's nothing. Just something I have to go do," he said avoiding my question.

"Well, if it isn't that important, can't you postpone it, and come down for the weekend at least?" I coaxed.

"I'm afraid not. Not this time," he replied. The last time and only time he had come was when I left my husband only a year before.

I sat silent for a few seconds. "Lee, it's my twenty-first birthday. I thought we might have some tentative plans," I suggested.

"Cindy, I wasn't sure I would even hear from you. This thing came up and I have to go. I don't have a choice and I can't put it off. There's no room for negotiation. I'm sorry," he said firmly. There was an awkward silence.

"When was the last time you heard from your husband?" he asked.

"You mean my

ex

-husband, don't you? And, to answer your question, nearly a year ago. About a month or so after I saw you last," I answered.

"How are the girls?" he asked.

"The girls are fine," I said stiffly.

"Umm," he grunted. "Well, what are you up to these days?"

"I'm working as a bartender and cocktail waitress," I replied.

"And?" he asked.

"And what?" I countered.

"Who are you with?" he asked making an assumption. "What's his name?"

I sighed. "If by 'with' you mean who do I live with, his name is Roger."

"How long?" he asked. I could hear him writing in the background.

"For the past year. Since right after I left my ex," I admitted. "And if you mean who am I seeing? Well, maybe you should sharpen your pencil," I replied with sarcasm.

"Is the list that long?" he asked meeting my sarcasm with his own.

"I'm working on it," I snapped with irritation. I regretted losing my temper immediately. "Lee, please. Let's not do this. I miss you and I'm not happy. I want to see you."

"Are you saying you want to come home?" he asked.

I paused for a moment. "Yes. That's what I'm saying. Will you come?" I asked again.

I heard him take a deep breath. "You're really serious this time? You're saying you want me to come get you?" he asked again.

"Yes." I could feel my confidence wavering in that one word.

"Alright. I'll come," he said and I felt my heart jump. "But, not this weekend," he added.

"When?" I asked.

"In a few weeks maybe," he replied. "I'll be gone at least two weeks. Probably three."

My heart sank. "Oh. I see. Well, should I call you then?" I asked.

I could almost hear him rethinking his decision. "I should be back by the latter part of May. Call me and I'll come down. It'll give you time to tie up loose ends there," he said.

"Okay. I'll call you then I guess," I said quietly.

"Alright, then. It's settled. I'll hear from you when I get back," he said. "And, Cindy?"

"Yeah?" I replied.

"Happy Birthday," he said.

"Thanks," I responded dejectedly and I hung up the phone. I knew that the promise I made to call him in a few weeks would go unfulfilled. His refusal to fly down for my twenty-first birthday was a broken promise from years ago. It was a disappointment I wouldn't easily forget.

**********

Two nights later, on the actual day of my twenty-first birthday, a group of friends gathered at the bar to celebrate with me. It wasn't officially a party, but any excuse would do. I hadn't talked to Jon for over two days, and my irritation with both Roger, and now Lee, was simmering.

Let's face it; a twenty-first birthday is a big deal in any young person's life. Having the people I felt closest to ignore mine was like dropping a lit match near a gasoline can. Something was bound to explode.

I met with Christina first, and soon after, my friend Daniel came in, followed by Roger, my ex-roommate, and a few others I knew. Any time Roger came in where I worked, it made people uncomfortable. Jon had a lot of friends at the bar, and while they knew Roger was my live-in, they didn't take fondly to him. They were more accustomed to seeing me in the company of Jon.

Christina and I decided to move the celebration down the street to the Cypress. Daniel abandoned us, opting to head to the French Quarter instead. Christina and I had already consumed two bottles of champagne and a pitcher of Margaritas before we left the bar. By the time we walked into the Cypress I was well on my way to being too unstable to drive.

Barry welcomed the small gathering with genuine enthusiasm. We kept him quite busy slinging drinks for a while and during that while, I noted the flirtation going on between Roger and my ex-roommate. Because she had introduced me to Roger, I wasn't entirely surprised, but I was annoyed.

I wandered casually over to the jukebox and fed it several dollars. A slow blues number began as I made my way back to the bar. At first, no one seemed to even notice as I climbed atop the bar stool and stepped upon the bar.

The dress I was wearing was a sexy number with small straps that tied at the shoulders; it was held in place by only those two little strings. The bodice was snug and cut low, while the skirt was made of a soft clingy material, although it was gathered, yet loose enough to allow freedom of movement. The jagged hemline was obscenely short in some places and below the knee in others. In all, it was an eye-catcher.

Underneath, I wore a pair of black satin panties and a black lace garter-belt. Black silk stockings and stiletto heels completed my attire for the evening. Honestly, I think my hair covered more of me than the outfit I wore.

How no one seemed to notice when I stood up on the bar and began to sway to the music is beyond me, but Barry was the first to notice. Maybe because he was the only sober one in the place. He immediately tried to shoo me down. "Clem, what the hell are you doing?" he gasped as I raised the hem of my dress to reveal my long legs. "You can't dance on the bar! Get down from there!" he protested loudly.

A hush fell over the barroom and heads turned my way. Roger's face went white and Christina began to laugh uncontrollably. "Leave her alone, Barry," she cackled. "It's her birthday!"

Some of the onlookers began to clap and Barry scrambled to try and lure me down. "Get down, Clem," he ordered swiping at me with a bar towel.

I leaned down and placed one hand on his shoulder. "You're no fun, Barry," I said giving him a pout.

"If you want to dance, go dance on a table, not on my bar! Get her down from there!" he ordered. Several pairs of hands reached out to steady me as I stepped down off the bar and climbed down from the bar stool. I took his suggestion and made my way amid catcalls to a nearby table instead.

I knew many of the customers and they didn't hesitate to encourage me to continue my show. I pulled out a chair and used it as a step to climb onto the table. I resumed my dancing there. The men began to clap and howl, even Christina joined in, shouting for me to "take it off". It was all the inspiration I needed.

I looked over my shoulder and flashed them a wink and a smile. I gave both strings a tug at the same time and the bodice of my dress fell down around my waist. I had my back to the audience so there wasn't much they could really see because my hair covered most of me. I don't think anyone really expected me to actually strip, least of all Roger.

He rushed forward and began grabbing at me and cursing under his breath, but I easily eluded his attempts to force me down from my perch. A large crowd of men had surrounded the table at that point, so I had no idea whose hands actually fell upon my waist.

It was a rather somber looking Bob who said, "Okay, Miss Cindy. Down we go!" as he lifted me from the table. He let me slide through his grip down the entire length of his body until my feet touched the floor. His arm was around my waist and my back was pressed against his chest. Bob wasn't as big as Jon, but he was hard-bodied. He looked like a U.S. Marine dressed in a silk suit.

Roger was grappling to get one hand on my wrist, but Bob brushed him away. "I've got her!" he snapped gruffly as he pulled the bodice of my dress back up and began to retie the strings in place. Roger responded by stomping out the door while still cursing. My ex-roommate was close on his heels. The front door slammed shut behind them.

"I want to dance, Bob," I whined as I made another attempt to scramble upon the table again.

"Oh, no, you don't!" he said, grasping me by the waist again. "Are you trying to get thrown out of the place? Come on, let's go have another drink and talk," he scolded as he spun me around and gave me a small nudge in the direction of the bar. He had his hand on the small of my back as he steered me towards his seat at the bar. He picked me up and sat me upon his bar stool.

"Now, what's this all about?" he asked as he lit a cigarette and handed it to me. It was the first time I had seen his stone-cold face actually look human. He had sandy hair and steely grey-blue eyes that looked more blue than usual against the charcoal grey suit he was wearing.

"Well, Bob. That is my so-called husband," I said tossing my head towards the door. And, my ex-best friend and roommate," I sniffed with repugnance. I took a puff of the cigarette. "And, today, Bob, is my birthday!" I said with a firm nod of my head.

"Oh. I see. I didn't know you were married," he said with a frown. "I thought you were Jon's girlfriend," he commented.

"I am," I shrugged. "My husband doesn't want me and apparently neither does

he

," I said slurring my words. "Otherwise he would've come down for my birthday!"

"He who?" Bob asked looking confused. "Come down from where?" he asked. I didn't respond to his questions. 'He' was Lee, but I didn't bother to explain.

"I am Jon's woman," I said defiantly lifting my chin and narrowing my eyes at him.

"Well, you know Jon is going to hear about this. And, I don't think he's going to like it too much when he does," Bob said softly as he gave me a steady gaze of disapproval.

"Are you a friend of Jon's?" I asked tilting my head at him. I knew better. I'd seldom seen the two of them do anything more than politely nod to one another. Twice, I think I'd seen them drink together.

"We know one another. I wouldn't say we were close friends. But, I like the man. And, I wouldn't want to see him get pissed off over something like this. Now, you need to behave yourself, okay?" he said firmly.

"Tell my husband to behave," I snipped. "Come with me, Bob. I want to show you something," I said standing up on unstable legs and grabbing his hand. I drug him to the door and motioned for him to be quiet. I jerked the door open and stepped outside in one quick motion.

There stood Roger with my ex-roommate in his arms, and he was kissing her. They jumped apart abruptly as I said, "Bob, this is my husband, Roger. And, my ex-best-friend. Say hello to Bob, you two!" I snorted. "Oh, did we interrupt something?" I snarled at them. Bob was propped against the doorjamb with one arm, observing the exchange.

"I think I'll go," my ex-friend purred at Roger.

"Yeah, why don't you do that?" I snarled again. "You go home, too, while you're at it, Roger. In fact, you two can go home together. I won't be there!"

"Later! Enjoy your fucking birthday," Roger snapped waving me off. His eyes flashed angrily in Bob's direction. He was turning red in the face as he stalked away.

"I'll see you in a few days, maybe!" I called after him and threw back my head laughing.

"Why do you insult the man? Why not just leave?" Bob asked staring at me steadily after the two of them had gone.

"I'm a glutton for punishment," I snarled at him. "We both love torturing one another," I said as I watched Roger's taillights disappear from view.

"Okay, well, why don't I give you a ride home?" Bob asked.

"Whose home?" I asked placing a hand against his chest to steady myself.

"Yours," he answered frowning down at me.

I shook my head at him. "Uh-uh! Not my home! I'm gonna run away from home," I whispered in a conspiratorial tone. I burst into laughter.

"Then where do you want to go?" he asked.

"Well, if you're going to insist on being the Good Samaritan, then take me to Jon. It'll be a surprise. I'll be his birthday present," I said, nodding earnestly at him.

"Alright. I'll take you to Jon's then," Bob said with a nod.

"I need another drink first," I said muttered.

"Oh, no you don't! You've had more than enough already. Let's just get you to Jon's where you can sleep it off awhile," he insisted escorting me back inside the lounge.

"If anyone calls looking for her, you don't know where she went," Bob instructed the bartender as he took my purse from Barry's safekeeping. I turned up the rest of my drink and gulped it down, slamming the glass down on the bar. I sashayed towards the door a few steps ahead of him, affording him a clear view of my backside. He caught up with me quickly and took my arm to keep me from stumbling.

"Happy Birthday, Clem!" Barry called out as Bob ushered me quickly out the front door.

He walked me by the elbow to a nearby black sport's car, and he opened the door, helping me climb inside. When he was seated beside me, I looked around and said, "Nice ride!"

He cut his eyes in my direction as he cranked the engine and it purred. "Does it have a backseat?" I asked. I struggled to turn around and look. A second later, I was on my knees, peering between the two front seats. My ass was virtually rubbing against his shoulder. "Not much of one!" I declared looking back over my shoulder at him in feigned disappointment.

I heard him draw in a sharp breath before he growled at me. "Turn around and sit down!"

"Why? I wasn't going to touch anything!" I pouted at him.

"Because I can't drive with your...with you hanging over my shoulder like that! Now, sit down and buckle your seat-belt!" he scolded with a frown. He tried awkwardly to grab me by the waist again, but his hands ended up tugging at the loose material of my dress instead. "Sit down!" he said sternly as he slapped my ass.

I gave him a quick smile and wiggled back around to face the front again. I flopped down against the leather seat and reached for my purse. "Can I smoke?" I asked, and without waiting for a response, I lit a cigarette and handed it to him. He eyed me cautiously before taking it from me. I took out another and lit it for myself, fumbling for the button to lower the window slightly.

"Oooh! Real leather interior!" I commented wiggling around on the seat and wriggling the hem of my dress higher on my thighs.

"How can you tell in the dark?" he asked without looking at me.

"It's soft and I don't stick to it," I said still smiling coyly at him. "Besides, you can smell it. I love the smell of leather. It's so sexy!" I declared.

He chuckled under his breath and shook his head, looking out the side window for a few seconds. "How come you don't like me?" I asked suddenly.

He turned his head to look at me in surprise. "What makes you think I don't like you?" he countered. "I'm giving you a ride, aren't I?"