I dragged Jarid out on a walk the next day. Just a little walk around the Park, sharing a joint with his mother, who realized that she actually liked the stuff. I wore those denim shorts that my bottom hangs out of with a snug, light purple, short sleeved pullover and no bra because, in this case, his mother liked to think she was getting a reaction.
Jen's admission of her intentions towards Jarid came as a bit of a shock, even though I somehow knew she would say something like that. Yes, it disturbed me, yet on another level the thought of the two together in my imagination was somehow tantalizing. And I was curious about Jarid now, too. Liv and I had decided to just monitor the situation but, like me, I felt her imagination was teasing her to anticipation.
"I suppose you thought I was crazy when I packed you two into the RV and brought us out here."
"Something like that."
"Things have worked out pretty unexpectedly."
"You said it."
"I don't have much of an explanation for you."
"Liv told me about your moment. When we were out at the grocery store that day, I mean."
"Oh."
"Yeah. Y'know, Mom, like I say, Dad's a dickhead."
I had nothing to say to this. I'd never used the kids against Kevin and if Jarid had his problems with his father, those were his concerns and I was loathe to interfere.
"I'm just sayin,... I don't know." he muttered.
"Are you thinking about what he'd say if he were here?"
Jarid laughed and said, "I keep trying to picture him here. But, more than anything, I keep thinking that none of this would have happened if not for that stupid divorce. I'm not blaming you, or anything, it's just,... so screwed up, especially now."
"Would you rather we ended up at Vicky?"
"Vicky seems so normal."
"Is that a good thing?"
"I don't know."
"Are you uncomfortable with me now?" I asked.
"Not exactly. It's more like finding out that Santa Clause does exist after all."
"I suppose. Like I say, I can't offer any excuse, or explanation."
"I guess you don't owe me one, anyway. Liv tells me it's like a dream here. A place where you can do what you want within reason, without consequences when you wake up and leave."
"She told me the same thing." I said. "Do you see it like that?"
"I can see how a person could take advantage and make that real when they're surrounded by likeminded people. I've had some pretty good dreams."
"I'll bet.", I said, actually wondering what those dreams may have been.
"I guess I just don't have the mindset for it."
"I wouldn't have thought I would,... well, I guess I'm just glad you're not outright disgusted with both of us. But, Jen is a little worried that you don't trust her like you used to."
"No, I just need to get used to the idea of who she is here."
"I thought so. How are you and Liv getting along?"
"Just fine, as long as I'm being a good little dog."
"It's not like that, Jarid."
"I don't feel like getting into it."
"Alright. I worry about you, you know." I said, putting my hand on the back of his neck and smiling at him as we walked. "What are you going to do about Jen?"
"I don't know."
"Well, do me a favour and keep it in mind, alright?"
"I will."
"Trudy, Jarid!" someone called.
I looked around and saw Dave and Dick, Carrie's husband, and a couple of other guys around an idling Harley Davidson in a trailer occupied lot. He was beckoning us in.
"Come on, let's go see what they want." I said, veering off the track with him behind me, headed for the group.
They were standing around smoking weed and drinking beer, Dick with a screwdriver in his hand.
"Hey, you two, have a shot." he said, gesturing to a medium sized toolbox behind him, in front of which was a quart of
Crown Royal.
"Are you sure?" I asked him with a smile over the racket of the bike.
"Sure, I'm sure, you two hang out a bit. Got no glasses, though, but that won't bother Jarid."
I looked at him and noted his small, guilty smile, remembering how he was slugging the stuff back the night before.
"We'll have to have a talk about that, you and I.", I said half seriously, wagging an admonishing finger.
"Yeah, yeah."
Dave passed me the bottle and I took a drink. They all laughed a little when I gagged after barely managing to get it down, even Jarid, who took a drink after me.
"Thanks.", he said.
"S'no problem, Jar." Dick replied. "Hey, grab that Torex set and bring it here? Dark blue, plastic case- yup, that's it. C'mere and check this shit out, I replaced all my outer gearbox screws."
The liquid heat of that shot was working its way to my belly, the rye going straight to my head as I gasped, "Good lord, how can you stand that?"
"You just throw it by your tongue." Dave said. "What're you two up to today?"
"Not much, just a lazy day. You?"
"Tunin' Dickie's ol' Hawg."
I liked Dave. He was one of those big guys that were all man, the kind of guy that makes a woman feel like a woman, as clichΓ© as that sounds.
"Why are the handlebars so high?" I asked, standing alongside him to look at it.
"They're called 'ape hangers'. It's an old style that's still cool."
"Loud and shaky." I observed, finding that I actually liked the appearance of the rebellious looking old thing.
"Yeah, Harleys are. You ever been on one?"
"No."
"Dick, mind if Trudy sits on your bike!?"
"-cause they fuckin strip out every time- no, go ahead, chickie!- every fuckin' time you gotta get behind-"
"Hop on, just don't hit anything with your foot."
"Umm,... Alright, it's pretty low, so I'll just,..."
With a careful, slightly awkward and less than ladylike maneuver, I hoisted my leg, bent at the knee, stretched it over the seat and put my foot down on the grass, straddling the wide engine now with my hands on the handle grips, smiling triumphantly as Dave and the guys seemed to take a fresh notice of me.
"Have a seat and give it a rev.", he advised.
I carefully sat, my thighs spread, hands up in the air and still on the grips. The vibration hit me right away, the hard, rhythmic hammering speaking directly to my groin, sending tingles down my legs when I revved it a little.
"Wow!" I exclaimed. "It feels so powerful!"
Another guy gave it a much higher rev, a smile on his face as he watched me laugh during the deafening sound, trying to squeeze my thighs together a little.
"Like that, huh?" he asked.
"Yes, it's so,... raw. And it tickles my pussy."
"You got it, baby." Dave laughed as Dick spread my right thigh further to get at something with a screwdriver, he and Jarid's faces close to the powerfully thumping engine.
"-hard to tell with these old fuckers until ya know em, cause they idle so rough, eh? But, basically, what you're looking for is an idle that-"
"Wanna go for a ride when we're done?" Dave asked.
"Sure.", I said, looking at the deep red, metallic tank and the big, polished chrome speedometer mounted there as my nipples began to erect themselves.
They lit up a joint and passed it around, me taking turns as well as I stood again, leaning away from the machine in order not to drop any hot ashes on it.
"Fuck, Trudy, we usually have to tell people to be careful of that shit." one of the unknown men commented.
"What's that?" I asked around a lungful, passing it on.
"Never mind. Hop off and have another shot, honey baby. What do you drive at home, anyway?"
I carefully removed myself from the machine in the reverse manner that I got on, the men looking openly at my crotch as I did, (including Jarid) and said, "O-eight
Honda Accord
."
"Ohhhhh, fuck!" he groaned.
"What?"
"You should have an old drop-top Mustang. Panhead's the name, by the way."
"I'm Trudy, pleased to meet you."
"That
SST
Simmy has for sale." the other countered, looking at me as if sizing me up while I took the bottle.
"Fuck, she doesn't need that rotbox." Dave scoffed.
"It's a bracket racer, man, it's a fuckin' twelve second car."
"She doesn't want a bracket racer, she wants something- hey, you okay, Trudy?"
I was holding the bottle out, trying not to gag again while daintily dabbing at my lips, afraid my breath would catch fire when the joint came around again.
I answered, "Ughh-hh! Gaa,... Yes. (giggle) Uck!"
"You're gonna make her puke." Dick charged, standing now and pointing a screwdriver at Dave while Jarid single mindedly rooted through the toolbox for something.
"Oh, she's alright! You're alright, aren't ya, Trudy?"