The Good Neighbor Ch 06 1

Jack ejected Diane's X rated DVD, put it back in the plastic case, and carried it into the kitchen where he set it on the counter and retrieved another beer.

Staring at the distressing evidence of her sexual perversion, he emptied half the bottle while considering his options.

Before taking another long draught, he muttered, "Brooding over her sexual history is going to turn me into an alcoholic."

Setting down the empty bottle, Jack picked up the DVD and marched over to Diane's house. After retrieving the spare key from under the garden rock, he unlocked the back door and entered the dark house. The silence felt full of ghosts, and his head swam with visions of naked, fornicating bodies. A half-moon provided enough light to navigate to Diane's bedroom. He stopped to stare at the king size bed, recalling the carnal deviance he'd witnessed on it. The bondage scene must've been repeated many times over the years to rub the posts down to bare wood.

The closet opened like a black hole, so Jack turned on the light and placed the DVD back where he found it, leaving the trunk unlocked. His heart jumped when his cellphone chirp the arrival of a text message from Diane. He tapped once to open it and read, 'Good night, Lover.' There was an attachment. He tapped again. Diane filled the screen. She lay on her back wearing the 'Searching for a Rainbow' tee shirt bunched up around her waist and nothing else.

Jack shook his head at her boldness. Not wanting to extend this conversation, he sent back, 'Nice shirt. Good night,' and headed downstairs. He made it to the back door before his phone chirped again.

After stepping outside and locking the door, he read, 'Just the shirt is nice?'

There was another attachment. He tapped. A picture opened showing her sitting with the tee-shirt pulled up under her chin, breasts on full display.

He wrote, 'Nice tits! By the way, I found this phone tonight at a bar. Have the owner call this number and I'll return it. Hope you don't mind that I've sent the photos to my Twitter account.'

He made it across the street and halfway up the driveway before his phone chirped again.

The message read, 'Not funny, Jack! Kiss my ass!' The attached picture showed Diane bent over with her bare butt toward the camera. She was looking back over her shoulder, and giving him the finger.

He wrote, 'So, is that Jack's ass?' and clicked send.

As he entered his house, the phone didn't chirp, it rang. He let it ring a few times before deciding to answer. "Hello."

"Why are you being mean to me?"

"Was I? Sorry. Too much to drink I guess."

"Why are you drinking so much?"

He didn't answer right away. His head too muddled to make a plausible excuse. So he told the minimal truth, "I'm bummed."

Her voice softened. "Why, Jack?"

Thinking it would be easier to tell her the whole truth on the phone than in person, he said, "I snooped around your house. I found the footlocker in your closet. It wasn't locked." He stopped there, sure that she would pick up what he was laying down.

After a long silence, Diane's voice cracked when she said, "You had no right to touch anything in that box."

Defensively, he answered, "Hey, you went through my stuff! I was just as curious about you." He paused, and added, "But I wish I hadn't."

"So I have toys from my past. Big deal."

Jack guessed she was fishing to find out how much he knew - if he'd found the DVDs. He didn't answer directly, but said, "I don't think we should be physical anymore. I can't live up to your expectations. You'd be settling for a lot less than you're used to and be disappointed... And I don't share. I'm sure Sharon and Lou will want quality alone time with you when they visit... But, I'll still be your friendly neighbor. By the way, I noticed the window air conditioner on your bedroom floor. I'd be happy to install that for you. Then you could keep your windows closed, and I wouldn't have to hear what goes on in your bedroom when friends-with-benefits sleep over."

Rather coolly, she said, "Thanks, neighbor. I'd appreciate that. I'll bake you a cake as payment," and hung up.

Feeling miserable, Jack grabbed another beer from the fridge and wandered around outside. 'Why the hell did I watch that? Everything was going great.'

He picked up a rock and threw it at a tree. It ricocheted off the trunk and broke a barn window. "Fucking perfect!" he shouted, and threw his empty beer bottle against the barn, relishing the crash of shattering glass. "I'm not so drunk I can't hit the broad side of a barn. Not yet." So he went back inside for another beer. After two more, walking became staggering. Rascal followed his master to the pond and sat beside him on the shore.

Jack put his arm around the dog, and said, "I'm an asshole, aren't I."

Rascal licked his face.

"You still love me, though. That's something." He scratched the dog's neck, and said, "You know what else? I'm in love with Diane, and cancer really fucked up my fuckin' life!"

Pulling out his phone, he said, "I gotta 'pologize." It took him several tries to type the text message and hit send.

A minute later he received a response. 'In sorty? What does that mean?'

"DAMN IT!" He tried again. 'I'm sorry.'

Diane responded, 'You should be!'

Focusing hard before hitting send, he typed, 'I love you!', then waited, and waited. Jack waited so long he regretted sending it, because she was obviously trying to think of a way to let him down easy. Finally his phone chirped, but he was afraid to open the message. Rascal looked at him impatiently.

"Okay, okay. I'll read it." He tapped the message and read, 'I know. Stop fighting it. I love you, too.'

"Well, Rascal, what do you think? Can we make this work?" he asked, petting man's best friend.

Rascal wagged his tail and grinned.

"You're so optimistic."

Jack wobbled to his feet on the undulating ground. "Let's go home, buddy."

***

The soft tapping of rain on the window reverberated like hammer blows inside Jack's skull. He cracked open his right eye to check the clock - 9:12. He groaned and rubbed his face. "When will I learn that the day after isn't worth the night before."

He went downstairs, let Rascal outside, and demanded, "Stay out of the burdocks!"

After Tylenol, eggs, toast, and coffee, Jack began to feel passably human. The rain turned into a downpour making outside work impossible, so he collected the necessary tools and drove the truck across the street to Diane's house.

Her bedroom felt less haunted in the light of day. The first thing he did was enter the closet and lock the toy-box to prevent the reoccurrence of carnal temptation. An hour later, the air conditioner was installed and running without flooding the bedroom with rainwater.

He took a picture and sent it to Diane with the message, 'Air conditioner installed. I like white cake with chocolate frosting.'

There was no immediate response, so he shut off the AC and returned home.

Just as he finished hanging his tools back on the pegboard, his phone rang.

He answered, "Hello, this is your handyman hot line. How may I service you?"

"Hi." Diane's voice sounded soft and tentative. "Thank you for the AC."

"Is everything all right? How's the father-in-law?"

"He's okay. They're doing a heart catheterization today to check for blockages."

"Sounds like they're being thorough."

"Yeah... listen... about last night... I got a call from Sharon this morning."

Jack stopped smiling. "Okay."

"The thing is... she saw you there. She saw what video you were watching."

"What!" Jack started pacing up and down the barn aisle. "What are you talking about?"

"There's a... uh... security camera in my room. It's hidden in a picture frame on the dresser. Sharon knew I was away when she received an alert on her phone from the motion detector."

Jack's nausea returned, but not from alcohol.

When he didn't say anything, Diane continued, "She knows you took it and brought it back later. So you watched the whole thing?"

Jack closed his eyes, and immediately relived the image of Sharon dragging the sheet down to expose Diane. He opened them and shook the image away.

"I'm sorry."

Her voice cracked, when she asked, "Why did you pick that one?"

"The title said Difant. I thought it would be about your fantasy." He could have said more, but felt more would be too much.

"But you didn't stop watching when you knew..." Diane stopped talking.

"No, I didn't."

After a long silence, Diane laughed softly, and said, "Sharon was surprised you didn't whip it out and jerk off on the spot."

With renewed inadequacy, he thought, 'As if whipping it out and jerking off was even an option.'

"So, she's not angry?"

"Angry? No. She's afraid it will change your feelings for me. She knows how I feel about you, and said at least now I don't need to hide anything. But why did you take it home?"

"Honestly... I was torn. I wasn't sure I wanted to watch the rest, but I rationalized watching it because I wanted to know everything about you."

"I guess now you do. And how do you feel about me now that you're sober?"

He collected his thoughts before answering, "I'm in love with the woman I know, not her past. I guess... my fear now, more than ever is... not satisfying you and getting my heart broken again."

"Oh, Jack, you can't live the rest of your life afraid of what might happen."

He laughed, and said, "True, but not reassuring." Another thought occurred to him. "When Lou spent the night was the camera on?"

Without hesitation, Diane answered, "Yes."

"So Sharon-"

"Watched? Yes, she did. It's something we used to do as couples. I have the same picture frame on their dresser, as well. Although, I haven't used it since Larry died."

"So, if I had spent the night?"

"I would've laid the frame flat, or put it in the dresser drawer. Our sex life is just that, ours. No one else's."

Tired of this topic, Jack asked, "When do think you'll be coming home?"

"In a couple of days. Bob should be out of the hospital by then."

Inspiration hit. Jack thought of a way to reduce his embarrassment of seeing Diane alone. He needed a break for her sexual magnetism. "Why don't you come home now with the kids? Bring their swimsuits. They can stay cool in the pond."

"Really? That sounds great to me. It's so hot here. Let me ask them, and call you back. Okay?"

"Okay. Talk to you later," said Jack, and hung up.

The rain had stopped and the sun broke through the scattering clouds. Jack stepped out of the barn and took a deep breath. The humid air, fragrant with damp pines, calmed his anxious mind. Halfway through lunch, he received a text. 'We'll be there around 3. Kids excited about swimming.'

Jack responded, 'Great! See you then.' He finished lunch and went out to the barn.

Stored in the loft were a few inflatable rafts and inner tubes they'd bought over the years, mostly for the grandchildren on the rare occasions they visited from Arizona. His chest tightened with sadness at the loss of those special times with his family.

The rafts were quickly inflated with an air compressor, and piled on the wagon. After inspecting it for mouse damage, Jack also placed a tent on the flatbed. It made a perfect changing room if you wanted to dry off. Maybe, someday Diane would want to camp out with him, and howl under a full moon. He shook the thought of Diane naked in the moonlight from his head. Counterproductive thinking wasn't helping. Acting grandfatherly was today's assignment.

By 2:30 the inflatables were on the shoreline and the tent stood under the shade of the oak. Jack made a quick trip to the local convenience store for snacks and returned home to wait for their arrival.

At 3:08 Diane pulled into her driveway. Jack walked down to the end of his, and yelled hello as they exited the vehicle.

"Everything is ready at the pond. I put up a tent so you can dry off and change. I thought you might want to make a campfire after your swim. You can toast marshmallows and make smores."

When the grandchildren looked over the car at Diane with anxious faces he realized they'd probably already made other after-swim plans. Although Jack had looked forward to time with them, he realized they weren't there to spend time with him. This was their family time. They had a grandfather that died. No substitute wanted.

He waved and said, "I have to check on the blueberry bushes. Call my cell if you need anything. Be careful. The rock gets slippery when they're wet." Laughing, he added, "If you drown, you won't be allowed back."

As he turned, Diane yelled, "Thank you, Mr. Spalding!" and the kids parroted her thank you.

Jack grabbed his pruning shears and walked to the blueberry field. Rascal followed, darting in and out of sight to investigate new scents. The rows of wet blueberry bushes, sparkling in sunlight, brought a nostalgic tug. Planted by his father 15 years ago, they've produced delicious fruit and provided a reason for families to venture outdoors together. This year's crop was going to be spectacular. Another week and they'd be ready to harvest. It was clear from the website comments the do-it-yourself pickers were anxious to get started. There wouldn't be much free time for a month, once the season opened. Maybe it was for the best.

'Diane has her life, and I have mine.'

Jack walked each row, and clipped dead limbs from the less productive bushes. He made a list of which plants should be replaced in order to keep a consistent crop rotation. A few minutes into his inspection, he heard a distant splash and a girlish scream. He smiled at the sensation of hot flesh meets cold pond, conjuring memories of childhood summers. Rascal stopped sniffing the ground and looked in the direction of laughter. Without hesitation, he ran toward the sound of fun. Jack sighed, and mumbled, "Traitor."

Blueberry assessment complete, Jack returned to the barn to do some overdue equipment maintenance. An hour later, the tinkle of Rascal's tags announced the approach of visitors. He looked up to see three towel clad humans and one soaked dog in the doorway. They stopped at the threshold. Rascal sat next to the young girl and looked up at her with adoration. His dog had found the youthful companionship every Labrador craves, and he felt a twinge of jealousy.

Setting down the grease gun and standing, he said to the group, "Have fun?"

The kids looked at their grandmother. She nodded toward Jack. The kids looked at him, and said, "Thanks, Mr. Spalding."

Jason added, "That swing is awesome!"

"It is, isn't it. There's been a rope on that tree for over 50 years. My brother and I put the first one up when we were kids your age."

Diane's granddaughter acted shy, as she stood petting Rascal's head.

"How did you like it, young lady?"

Diane spoke up, "I'm sorry. I forgot you hadn't met." She moved behind the girl, put her hands on her shoulders, and said, "This is Emily."

"Hi, Emily. Did you have fun?"

She smiled cutely and nodded.

"I think Rascal likes having kids to play with. I'm not much fun for him."

"I like him, too." Emily knelt down, put her arms around Rascal's neck, and hugged him.

Rascal accepted the affection with squirming delight, licking her face when released.

"You kids go change for dinner. I want to talk to Mr. Spalding for a minute."

The children waved goodbye and walked away. Emily yelled, "Come on, Rascal!"

Diane yelled back, "Emily, don't let him in the house! He's too wet!"

With a tone of disappointment, she answered, "Okay."

After watching them leave, Diane walked toward Jack while unwrapping herself from the towel. Her swimsuit, a blue one piece, fit snuggly over her curves. His eyes wander appreciatively.

"I like how you look at me, Jack," said Diane, when she stopped three feet away. "It tells me you're still interested."

Knowing she was referring to the video, he cleared his throat, and said, "I am," and left it at that.

"The kids had a wonderful time swimming. They even asked about sleeping in your tent. But I said maybe some other time."

"Anytime is fine with me."

"I want to try it with you and me alone... soon."

He smiled, and said, "That can be arranged."

"My grandchildren mean the world to me. I'm so happy I had the chance to share today with them. They miss their grandfather, and the thought of losing the other so soon really upset them." Diane looked at the floor in thought, before continuing, "Emily has been afraid of dogs. Rascal changed her mind." She laughed and added, "She'll probably try to take him home."

"I think he'd go. He's starved for attention with me."

"I know the feeling."

The comment warmed Jack's face. The idea of a beautiful woman wanting his attention, desiring him, gave a boost of confidence he'd not felt in years. Pulling off his leather gloves, he closed the gap between them. Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her, and said, "I'll give you all the attention I have to give." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight. The coolness of her wet bathing suit was soon overcome by their combined heat. They kissed passionately, hands roaming, until she pushed away.

Breathlessly, she said, "I'm going to hold you to that, Mr. Spalding. But tonight, I'm taking my kids to dinner and a movie. So, I'd better get going before I lose all my willpower."

Jack looked down at his wet shirt. "Okay. Have fun. Thanks for cooling me down and heating me up."

She palmed the side of his face, and said, "I love you."

He turned into her hand, kissed it, and said, "I love you, too."

Jack finished the equipment maintenance with an uplifted spirit. Around 5:30 Rascal returned home for dinner, and promptly fell asleep.

"Not used to all the commotion, are you, Boy."

Jack watched the local news, mostly for the weather report - hot and humid for the next 48 hours. Already too hot indoors, he donned his swim trunks for an evening dip. Rascal woke up at the sound of the backdoor, and followed. The kids had the inflatables lined up neatly along the bank. He pushed one in, and watched it float slowly out to the middle. He retrieved the rope swing and backed up until he was at the end of its reach. Just like old times, Jack ran with the rope tight, swung out over the water, and dropped into the refreshing cold. After swimming and treading for a while, he climbed onto the raft and lazily floated on his back, looking up at the darkening sky.

'This is what contentment feels like. I'd be happy to die here,' then he thought of Diane, '...but not for a while.'

He closed his eyes, and imagined Diane naked - her body, so trim and fit for a woman half her age. Amazingly she wanted him, even with his dysfunctional penis. Then he remembered how she found his vacuum pump in the closet, and wasn't turned off by it. In fact, she was curious, even encouraging. The idea of actually making love to Diane made him quickly paddle to shore and head home.

Jack hadn't used the vacuum pump in a while. It hadn't seemed important to rehabilitate something that didn't have a useful purpose. It would be like blowing up a balloon and then just letting the air out, a waste of time and effort. But if he could tie a knot in his inflated balloon and make love to Diane, it would be worth it. Not having used the pump in months, he worried his penis had atrophied to the point of no return. After rereading the instructions and assembling the device, Jack sat on the edge of the bathtub, slipped the vacuum tube over his flaccid dick, and pumped three times. The seal did not hold tight against his skin. Air leaked in around the seal instead of pulling blood into his penis. Too much pubic hair prevented a good seal. So, using his electric razor, Jack trimmed his hair down to a quarter inch, and tried again with much better results.