Chapter 1-3

844 Words
On the way to Liam’s east-end modest home, Netty had the radio on full blast. Liam cracked his knuckles and stared out the window. Netty hadn’t said anything yet and he dared a glance her way. Her forearm was stretched out along the window’s edge and she was tapping the steering wheel to the sound of the music. “Over here,” he said, easing himself up painfully. “On you left.” They were coming to his street. When she pulled up in his driveway, Liam reached for the handle, unsure of the proper etiquette. Should he invite her in for a few minutes or forget it? Netty climbed out and went around the truck. She opened the door for him. “Come on, big boy.” She helped him out. Liam limped to the front door, and then nervously checked his box for mail. “Uh…do you wanna come in for a beer or something?” Please say no. Please say no. Please say no. “Yeah sure.” Fuck. Liam hesitated and pushed the door open. His old dog Faulkner greeted Netty with a few licks and yelps, and then shuffled back to his mat. Netty didn’t pay the dog any attention. “Is this a real fish?” She was already walking around the living room, poking at his things. She stopped and stared at a picture of him and his dad on a trip to Lake Sasseginaga. It had been seven years since that trip, but Liam remembered it vividly. “Yeah, it’s a real fish.” He went to the kitchen, which was connected to the living room, and plucked the fridge door open. “It’s a Walleye,’’ he said with his head in the fridge. “They’re usually a lot smaller, like three pounds. It was a trophy fish, I think I’m on a website for it. My dad was the one who caught it, but he let me have the credit.” “He sounds nice.” Liam looked over the fridge door. “Yeah. He is. Beer or juice?” She threw her head back and laughed. “I’ll pass on the juice, Liam. Beer’s fine.” She took a step closer, extending her hand, her eyes dancing on his mouth, and slipped the bottle out of his fingers. She’s eating me up. “So,” Netty asked, gazing at him, “how come you never got married?” Liam took a generous swill of his beer, stalling a little. He looked down at his hands. “I’m not the marrying type, I guess.” She sharpened her gaze, her eyes going from his lips to his hips. Liam needed a little breathing space, so he stumbled to the couch, and carefully eased himself into the pillows. Netty followed him and sat in the armchair at his right, picking at the beer label. “Your brother Rye seems happy.” “Yeah. He’s got two great boys and a little girl on the way. He and Angie were high school sweethearts. It was love at first sight.” “And that never happened to you?” “Nope.” “But it could still happen. No?” “Yeah,” he said, suddenly dreaming up the possibility. “But, it would had to be spectacular. Like something completely unstoppable.” Netty leaned in, intrigued. “Unstoppable,” she echoed. “Yeah.” Liam’s heart fluttered. “Something out of my hands.” “Liam?” Her voice had become syrupy. “Why haven’t you made a pass at me yet?” His heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t expected her to be this straightforward. His mind went blank. He glanced over at her. Netty’s chestnut eyes demanded an answer. He ran his tongue over his lips, trying to kick start his brain. He noticed Netty shifting in her chair. She was obviously uncomfortable with the heavy silence. “I’m a little off my game,” he finally said. “I mean, it’s been awhile.” “How long?” “Pretty long.” “Why?” Why? Because I’ve been working a lot. Dad got sick. The house I bought insists on falling apart. I like to fish. I don’t have much time to date. I have an old dog that doesn’t like to be alone. And oh, I’m gay. “You know, there aren’t that many girls in the construction business,” he lied. “And the ones I’ve met weren’t exactly my type.” “Really now. Well, am I your type?” Netty leaned in a bit and reached for his knee. “I like you, Liam,” she whispered. “You’re different than the guys I’ve dated. You’re so smooth.” Oh s**t. Here we go. Netty quietly moved in, like a hunter sliding between his thighs. She pressed her lips to his ear. “Liam…lay back.” Maybe, if he used his imagination, he could go through with it. But to his surprise, Netty only gathered some more cushions to prop his head up. “You need to get some rest,” she said. “Do you want me to call Rye?” “No, better not. The boys have soccer practice tonight. It’s okay. I’m gonna sleep it off. Look Netty, I—” “Liam, I’d like to have dinner with you Saturday. I don’t cook, okay? But we could order in.” She smiled. “Look, I mean, as friends or something.” What could he say to that? “All right.” “Good. Listen, I don’t think you should come in tomorrow. You need to take some time for yourself.” She was pulling her phone out of her work pants. She dialed and began talking to some mysterious interlocutor. “Hi Skyler. Is Leona in?” She waited, watching him. ‘‘Listen’’, she said to someone on the line, “could you please take a friend of mine tomorrow morning? I swear, he needs it. Really? Oh thanks. You’re a life saver. His name is Liam. Liam Stokes…Hey, Leona, I’m gonna drop him off first thing tomorrow. Eight okay? Great. Thanks again.” “Who was that?” Liam asked after she’d hung up. Netty was already in the open door. With a sly grin on her face, she waved at him. “Your new massage therapist.”
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