Jack woke with a start, disoriented by his surroundings. Then he felt the heat from the woman still fast asleep beside him, and the wonderful memories rushed in. Smiling, he relaxed back into the pillow with peaceful satisfaction. The warmth spread when he moved close and laid an arm across her back. The clock read 5:12. Rise-and-shine time swiftly approached. Lots to do before the sun overheated the day. But the air conditioning made the room temperature perfect for staying under the covers -- staying under the covers with a lover even more compelling. Just enough light leaked through the shades to make Diane's outline spectacular. Jack lifted the covers and let his eyes trace down her back to her bottom.
"See anything you like?" Diane turned and grinned with sleepy eyes.
"Yes. Everything. You're a beautiful sight to see. Sorry I woke you."
"What time is it?"
"Five-ish."
She rolled onto her back and covered her face with the sheet. "Ugh, too early."
"The 4-H club is coming this morning. I'm giving a lesson on growing blueberries. I need to get ready."
"Okay. I'll stay here." Uncovering her face, she gave him a contented smile, and said, "I'm a little sore after last night."
He cupped her linen covered breast and kissed her. "Sorry, not sorry."
She arched into his hand. "Mmm, me either."
Slipping his hand under the sheet, Jack's fingertips traced down between her breasts, across her stomach, and stopped when his hand covered her pussy. Rubbing tenderly, he asked, "Where does it hurt? Here?"
"Yes, but it's a satisfied ache."
"Maybe a massage will make you feel better," he said.
Pressing a little harder she opened her legs. "Maybe", she said, closing her eyes. "But I need to pee."
"Me too," he said, getting up. "You use your bathroom, and I'll use the one down the hall. Meet you back here."
After a quick wash up, Jack returned. Diane snored softly. The clock now read 5:54am. Rather than disturb her again, he dressed, gathered his things, and went home. Out of habit, he glanced at Rascal's water bowl, reminding him to call the Veterinarian about his condition later.
Eating a simple breakfast of peanut butter toast and coffee, he reviewed his notes on blueberry horticulture. These 4-H seminars lasted about two hours with an attendance of less than ten. Not many kids want to be farmers anymore. But Jack liked teaching kids. He enjoyed talking about the natural world. The students would pick berries during the second hour, to sell or for personal consumption. This was just the beginning of berry season, so it left plenty to ripen for the general public.
Time with the kids passed swiftly. Shortly after they left, Jack drove to the animal hospital to see how Rascal was recovering.
The woman at the counter saw him coming and called the Vet.
Dr. Emery met him in the lobby. "Jack, I tried to call you, but it went to voicemail."
Worried, Jack said, "I had a 4-H class, so I turned it off. What's wrong?"
The doctor took him by the arm. "Please come to my office."
Voice panicked and loud, Jack asked, "What's wrong with Rascal?"
The people in the waiting room stopped talking and watched the two men expectantly.
When Jack refused to move the doctor softly said, "Rascal died sometime in the night. I'm so sorry."
"What!"
"Please, Jack. Come with me."
Stunned, he allowed the doctor to steer him to his office. Behind closed doors, he said, "Jack, please sit." When he did, the doctor ran his fingers through his white hair and then continued, "There was no way to see this coming. Rascal must've had undiagnosed heart disease. Without an autopsy I'm only guessing. But degenerative mitral valve disease is the most common heart problem in dogs. It causes the sudden death of millions of dogs around the world. It would have killed him eventually. The fight yesterday must've exacerbated his condition. Again, I'm so sorry for your loss."
Sitting with his head in his hands, Jack's own heart felt like it would burst. The idea that Rascal was left to die alone in a cage filled him with terrible sadness. "Was it quick, Doc?"
The Doctor laid his hand on Jack's shoulder and gave it a compassionate squeeze. "I'm sure it was. In fact, he was probably asleep when it happened."
Jack stood. "Where is he? I want bury him at home."
"Of course. I'll fill out the paperwork. Drive your truck around back. I'll meet you at the door."
Blindly, Jack walked out to his truck, started the engine, and drove. After backing up to the door, he got out, dropped the tailgate and waited. A few minutes later Dr. Emery opened the door and an assistant wheeled out a cart with a black body bag on top. Without a word Jack picked it up and laid it gently on the truck bed. Closing the tailgate, he said, "Thank you Doc for taking care of him all these years. I know you did all you could."
Dr. Emery held out his hand and Jack shook it. "Your dog died a hero. He died protecting people he loved."
A tear ran down Jack's cheek. "You're right. That's a good way to go out." Feeling his emotions begin to overwhelm, he turned, climbed into his truck and drove away. His mind wandered over fond memories, and he wondered if his ex-wife would want to know about Rascal. But she left without any care about him or the dog, so why should he call her. Did she ever think about him in the past year?
He decided to bury Rascal in the backyard under the maple tree. But when he should do it was the question. Maybe Diane would want her grandchildren to be present. Or was it just his wish to have other people there to share his grief? He wanted to feel a bond with people again. Diane brought love back into his life.
His heart sank as he approached their driveways and saw a car with Maine plates parked behind Diane's. Jack had no desire to be confronted with her friends and lovers today. Or any day. Anger and jealousy replace his grief.
"Why don't they just leave her alone? She's with me now!"
'Would Diane fuck Lou after saying 'I love you' to me?' Was Lou fucking Diane right now?
Jack sped up his driveway and parked behind the barn. He'd do this alone.
Inside the barn, he fired up the backhoe and drove it toward the backyard. Instead of opening the gate Jack plowed through the fence using the bucket as a ram. It felt good to destroy something in anger. Without a dog, the fenced in yard became superfluous.
3
It only took a few minutes to gouge out a 6-foot trench. When he walked back to retrieve Rascal's body the Maine car was gone.
'Slam, bam, thank you, Mam?'
After carrying the body bag to the graveside, Jack sat down with it across his lap and unzipped it. Rascal looked at peace; sleeping with no dreams. Fur soft under Jack's palm, tears were shed. When grief ebbed to reality, Jack curled Rascal's body into the backhoe bucket and gently lowered it into the grave. Not wanting to see the dirt fall on the body, the grave was quickly filled by plowing the pile into the hole.
Now it was time once again to drown his pain with alcohol. A familiar habit over the past year. But that required restocking his beer supply. So, off to the supermarket for a case of golden, mind numbing, elixir. Thirty minutes later, Jack pulled back into his driveway. The Maine car had returned to Diane's.
"What the fuck?" or was it another fuck?
When the excess beer was put in the refrigerator, his cellphone chirped alerting him to a message. He'd left it there on the counter since yesterday. Now it was full of bad news from the animal hospital. So, he put it in his pocket, the messages to be cleared later when the world became beautiful again as seen through beer goggles. After placing six, cold, ready-for-consumption bottles in a small cooler, Jack walked out to the pond-of-meditation to drown his sorrows. Once again, he sat at the picnic table and drank mind-numbing beer after beer. He'd just finished his fourth when Diane's voice startled him.
"There you are. I've been trying to reach you."
She stepped out from the forest path wrapped in a towel, followed by another woman who looked familiar.
Diane continued, "I want you to meet Sharon, Lou's wife. She stopped by on a surprise visit." The look Diane gave him seemed less than overjoyed. Then she brightened, and said, "I told her about your wonderful pond, so we went shopping to buy her a bathing suit."
He did remember Sharon from the photographs and from the explicit home porn. More than a little inebriated and feeling more than a little angry at the world, he held out his hand and said, "Hi Sharon. It's nice to meet you in the flesh after seeing you onscreen in the flesh. Thank you for being such a good friend to Diane."
Unabashed, Sharon walked up and shook his hand. "Lou and I love Diane. It's wonderful to meet the man who's helped her enjoy life as a single woman again. From what I've seen you have given her much pleasure."
Jack thought back to the other night when he ate cake and Diane's pussy on camera. Despite his blood alcohol content, he felt his face warm with embarrassment.
Sharon looked over her shoulder at Diane, who was busy dragging a raft and innertube to the shore, and then whispered, "Diane should learn to lock her phone so people can't peek at her photos. I found the impressive shot of your cock. She's a lucky woman."
Realizing that Sharon was not easily embarrassed, he asked, "What else has Diane told you?"
Sharon released Jack's hand and placed her hands on her hips. "Nothing. So that's my reason for the visit. I'm here to find out what's really going on, and make sure you're good enough for my best friend."
Appearing a bit nervous, Diane walked up, and said, "Time to cool off. Will you join us, Jack?"
He wanted to be a jerk. Tell them they didn't have permission to swim in his pond, and that they were intruding on his 'meditation', but he hadn't consumed enough beer to be that mean to Diane.
"No. I'll just sit here and watch. Besides, I didn't bring my swim trunks."
Removing the towel from around her torso, Sharon said, "That's okay. I've heard this is a clothing optional beach."
Diane playfully slapped Sharon's back, and said, "I told you that was a secret."
"Oopsie." Sharon leaned over to fold her towel on top of the picnic table, giving Jack a nice view of cleavage. He appraised her body openly, disregarding Diane's anxious demeanor. Sharon was just as fit as Diane, and equally attractive.
Drunkenly, he thought, 'I'd do them both, just like Lou.' And then amended, 'if I had a dick that worked.'
His mood darkened, as he uncapped beer number five.
Grabbing the rope retrieval stick leaning against the oak, Diane said, "Sharon, you have to try the swing. It's so much fun!"
