From the eighth grade on, they were known and the "Four Musketeers." Matt, Ron, John and Tim were inseparable. They took our high school to state championships in football, baseball and track. They attracted all the girls and seemed that they would be friends forever. John and Tim decided to join the Marines and go fight in Iraq. Ron has the body of a Greek God and the heart of a tender poet. Still he wanted to be with his friends so he enlisted too. Matt was left behind. Some unknown heart defect kept him from enlisting. Matt and I had been dating for two years by high school graduation. We went off to the same college about the time the other three Musketeers went off to war. Matt was heartbroken but it brought us closer together and we were married half way through our sophomore year. Early in our senior year we got the news. John and Tim were in a humvee when it hit an IED. All in the vehicle were killed. Ron was in the vehicle behind and saw it all. He pulled the body parts out of the burning, twisted metal.
Now Matt and I were three years out of college. He started looking for his old friend and found him working at a homeless shelter in South LA. When Matt brought him home, the ever present sparkle was gone out of his eyes, he looked forty and the former life of every party no longer even smiled. Matt told me that his girl friend had cheated on him and had another man's child while they were still together. Another girlfriend, got tired of his downer personality, got into drugs and eventually moved out also. Ron was even more handsome than he was in high school but he was just walking through life.
Matt's and my life could not have been going better. We had tons of friends, good jobs and Matt had just gotten a promotion and a temporary summer and fall assignment to San Diego, complete with a beach front house. Matt was all I wanted and we had a good sex life, but watching Ron move around the house in swim trunks every day had me ready for Matt every evening.
For the Fourth of July, we had invited all our friends from LA to spend a week with us. We had even invited Lauren from our high school days. I'm not sure why. She was tall, breathtakingly beautiful and had become a complete bitch over the years.
By the third day of our long, long Fourth of July party, Ron was smiling, flirting -- even with some of the married gals -- swimming and being very involved in cooking, sports and talking. Still if left alone for a few minutes, I could watch the pallor come over his face; I knew he was remembering John and Tim. That evening Lauren went into bitch mode. She had not been getting enough attention. Ron had completely ignored her so he became the target of her sharp, angry tongue.
Lauren was standing next to me, Ron was only a couple of steps away sitting on the ottoman, when she started loud enough for him to hear, "Why didn't you invite some manly single men this week-end? You have wimps, rejects and a steroid boosted body with probably a worthless dick."
"Please don't start, Lauren. We all want to have a good time this week-end and make it a good memory. Get to know Ron. I'm sure you will like him."
She took a tour around the patio, through the kitchen and then returned to the living room. Most people vacated when she stood behind Ron, planning her attack of insults.
"Well what do you think, Big Muscles? Our hostess says I should get to know you. Are you something special? Don't all men think they are something special?"
Ron did not respond or look at her. She bent down and blew in his ear. Still he did not move. "Don't you like girls?"