Chapter 01: Abracadabra
Desi loved surprises. That is exactly why she decided to drive over to the post office which was one quarter of a mile from her home rather than walk it as she normally would anytime she had an errand to run there. "Besides," Desi thought, "How many times do I receive a certified letter?"
Momentarily lost in her own thoughts as she glided into the parking lot and coasted nice and snug between a truck and an SUV, Desi wondered if maybe her Lucas had something up his sleeve for her. Making sure she left her e-break on before reaching towards the passenger seat and grabbing her purse, Desi thought how great it would be to receive a surprise from her man. Sighing as she unraveled her mind for a few moments trying to remember the last time she had received anything from him other than flowers which were only used as a vice so that he could butter her up to inform him of his 'other' plans he had going on which did not include anything that Desi enjoyed or cared to do. It aggravated Desi a lot that Lucas would rather blow two hundred dollars a month on a mechanical toy that he did nothing with other than sink it into mud. Desi did her best to hide her dislike of the Arctic Cat from her husband. However, she knew that Lucas used things like his four-wheeler and his expensive taste in video games as an attempt to fill other voids in his life.
Two years prior when his father had passed, Lucas came home with the Artic Cat then last year after his grandmother's death he decided to upgrade to a Playstation III. Since then Desi felt as if Lucas had forgotten her existence and she found herself drifting invisibly in his grieving haze of making up for what he didn't have any more. Also, since Desi's son, whom she had produced while still a baby herself and raised alone before marrying Lucas, was about to graduate high school and move away to begin college, she had decided to immerse herself in her writing as a way to escape her prison called loneliness. Despite the lack of communication and passion which Desi needed in order to live, she still loved Lucas very much as she thought of him two states away working all his hard muscles into overtime as he continued his toil to earn money for the bills and enough extra to blow on his own pursuits of pleasure. "At least he is trying more than he used too." Desi reminded herself as she remembered their sexy night they shared the weekend before.
Though the two of them had started out as 'just friends' in the beginning and she had married him pleasing her family more than herself, the thought of cheating on him had never occurred, until the opportunity had been shoved down her throat. Desi was feeling extremely lost and lonely one night and Lucas was continuously cutting their phone conversations short, as usual, claiming that he was doing paperwork, or he had another important call coming in, and then the finale, "Baby I'm tired. I got to get some rest. I'm getting up at three am in the morning to head to Missouri. I will call you tomorrow night. I promise."
Desi remembered the ache from the lump in her throat that came out of nowhere as she listened to her husband's low voice speak through the receiver of the phone. "Okay." Desi kept her emotions in control. "I love you." She reminded him.
"I love you too, bye." He hung up.
That night Desi had made the decision to not stay home alone basking in her lonely misery so she showered and dressed, dabbed on some makeup and perfume, careful not to put too much on because she was not trying to draw attention to herself. Desi just wanted no needed, human contact. Thinking back on that night now made everything seem like a blur of jumping into her Miata, driving as fast at the speed limits would allow and then all of a sudden she is tipsy on her third Corona bent over the pool table with her long hair the color of fire spilling down her back about to shoot the eight ball into the corner pocket while the smoky mist causes her to squint and the sounds of loud laughter and southern rock n roll are suffocating in the small familiar bar she had chosen to rid herself of her loneliness. Desi only went alone to places she was comfortable in and she was comfortable here since she had worked here before and the regulars still knew her by name.
Right after she watched the cue ball hit it's mark and smack the eight ball in, Desi felt the soft touch of someone's fingers touch her on the edge of her hairline right above her right temple as if to move her hair from her face, but instead, choosing to firmly grab a fistful of her fire red hair, softly gripping and pulling her closer to speak in her ear. Realizing that the hand belonged to a man, her heart multiplied in pace for a short few moments as she felt his sexy hot breath tingling her eardrum and causing a tiny vibration that prompted her to shiver slightly. His unfamiliar voice was higher pitched than her husband's big Texas baritone sound, and his familiar accent was thick Deep South Creole rolling off his tongue and causing her to blush as he spoke, "Frisson joli?"
Though Dessi was from North Louisiana, she understood enough of the South Louisiana dialect to know that frisson meant chill and joli meant pretty. Dessi's face lit up with a smile and she felt her face get hot as she recognized his Cajun tongue and she knew he was telling her she was pretty and asking her if she wanted another beer because she knew Cajun men called their beer chill since that's the only way to drink it and they aren't afraid to compliment whenever a compliment is due. Turning with wide eyes toward the stranger, Desi was sure she was crimson because the stranger was so good looking she felt her heart hasten its pace a few more beats as she fought to hide her attraction. Remembering who she was and what she was not within about ten supersonic star gazing seconds, Desi snapped out of it and motioned to her still nursing beer and tried to speak loudly over the music, "No thank ya sha! I'm still drinking this one!" And she picked it up and showed him her half-full bottle then followed with a smile she couldn't remember smiling in years. "Thank ya, though!" she chirped.
Instead of responding with a "Your welcome," the stranger put quarters on the pool table which meant he wanted to play her next game. Still unable to mask her flattery which was shining through her flushed face, Desi surprised herself by responding, "Lez le bon temps rouler!" Desi couldn't hide her pride which shone through her golden eyes whilst she looked back at the stranger staring at her in awe. Shocking him with her knowledge of his native tongue she glowed as she warned him, "I can speak yore language too sha! I grew up right on that bayou in thu back, yeah!" With that she flashed him a teasing smile. Desi was hoping to ward the highly attractive stranger away using her friendly sarcasm but that only seemed to make him want her more because she was sure he was interpreting it as flirting.
All right, maybe she was harmlessly flirting but it made her feel better than she had been feeling earlier so mixed with the effects of the beer and pure electrifying attraction for this stranger, Desi ended up inside his motel room. The young hottie turned out to be ten years younger than Desi and he truly didn't believe her when she told him she was thirty five. His name was Andre and he was married with children too, in town on business, and had a business partner name Virgil staying close by in another room.
Desi had accidentally met Virgil, who looked a bit older, lighter, and taller with longer hair than the younger hottie she was following on the way in to the motel. She remembered watching his shocking blue eyes that were shadowed beneath long loose coco colored bangs because Demi had a habit of focusing on a person's eyes anytime she met them. The distant memory of the second stranger buried itself in her tipsy and lusty frame of mind probably because she was so quick to figure out that her young hottie's business partner seemed to intentionally avoid making eye contact with her. Desi was always taught that no eye contact meant no trusted interest so she shrugged it off and left it at that.
"Ya burn?" he asked.
"Burn?"
"Herb?"
"Oh yeah!" Deciding not to let him know that she hadn't been stoned in at least five years since her son had almost caught her smoking in the garage and she barely got away with it by convincing him he was smelling incense and not pot.
