Wayward Paths and Golden Handcuffs by S.J. Thomason - HTML preview

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Chapter 6

Must Have Won the Lottery

 

Tanner plugged Nick’s new address into the navigator on his cell phone before leaving his condo, just west of Orange Bay. He tossed his overnight bag in the bed of this truck, hopped into the front seat, and backed out of the parking lot.  Before long he was on Bayfront Drive.  Soon he saw the O’Brien home, and Bob in the driveway smoking a cigar.  He pulled up next to him and parked.

“Dude!  Long time, no see. What’s the good word?”  He asked as he climbed out of his truck.

“Whole lotta nada.  Looking forward to tipping a few.  Brought the cigars.  Swisher Sweets.” Bob took a long pull on his cigar.

“How’s that Swisher?”

“Sweet.” Bob exhaled, blowing smoke from both his mouth and nose.  His get-up was amusing; always played the redneck part well, even though he was originally from Michigan.  This day he donned a cowboy hat, snakeskin boots, a button-down plaid shirt, and a pair of khaki shorts, which exposed his knobby knees.

“Nice duds. You kill me, man.” Tanner laughed as he grabbed his bag from the bed of his truck.  Bob pulled what he could from the end of his cigar before throwing it to the ground and smashing it with his boots.  He didn’t appear to have an overnight bag.

“Didn’t want to walk into the McMansion alone,” he said.  “First I thought he won the lottery.  Then I googled his mom while waiting for you.  She’s a big time CEO now.  Probably should have worn my best boots and ironed my shirt.”  Bob laughed, exposing his crooked teeth and a piece of tobacco.  “But, nah. That would be takin’ it too far.”

“Far upgrade to the old crib, huh?” Tanner said.  He glanced down at Bob’s worn boots and said, “No worries on the get up; you know that Nick’s a casual dude.  It’s all about flip flops, cowboy boots, and good times.”

Tanner considered his own tousled blonde mop, wrinkled fishing shirt, and flip flops to be fine attire in the home of his good friend.  At least he’d washed.  He was all about cleanliness.  Unlike Bob.  When they reached the front door, he knocked.  A dog barked.  “Must be Chipper,” he said to Bob.

A couple of minutes later, Nick opened the door, wearing an outfit almost identical to Tanner’s.  His well-coiffed dark hair contrasted his recently whitened teeth.  Tanner made a note to whiten his own teeth.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, “Come on in.”

They followed Nick into the house.

“This place is awesome,” Tanner said.

“Thanks.” Nick replied, still walking toward the kitchen.

As they reached the kitchen, Tanner watched Bob checking himself out in the mirror on the wall.  There was a wink just before he said, “Hey, I gotta hit the head. Can I use your bathroom?”

“Sure, it’s down the hallway to the right,” Nick said as he pointed to the hallway.

Tanner followed Nick around the island in the center of the kitchen where both found a swivel bar chair to sit on.  Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Nick’s mom as she came out of a back room and walked into the kitchen.

“Good to see you, Tanner.  I heard another voice.  Was that Bobnoxious?”

“Yeah, he’s in the bathroom.  Good to see you too.  Love your new house.”

“Thank you.”

Tanner swiveled his chair to get a glimpse of the view outside.  “Great view!” He could see a flock of doves as they flew together in the distant sky over the bay.

“We really like it too.  It’s peaceful here.  Can I get you something to drink?  We have soda, orange juice, apple juice, beer, or bottled water.”

“I’ll take a soda,” Tanner answered, wanting to impress Nick’s mom and trying not to seem anxious for beer, though he knew he’d have a few later, just to be social.

“That works for me too.  Thanks, Mom.”

She grabbed two bottles of soda out of the refrigerator and placed them in front of Tanner and Nick on the kitchen island.

“Thanks, Mrs. O’Brien,” Tanner said.

“You’re always welcome, Tanner. Well, I’ve got to finish a report.  It was good seeing you,” she said. “I’ll be back in a little while to say hello to Bob.”

“Nice seeing you again too.”

Tanner watched her head back into her home office.  She seemed different than she was in their old neighborhood, more attentive to a professional appearance.  In the past, he’d seen her donning much more casual outfits.

“My mom’s still the same, always working, traveling, or in her home office.  Married to her job and its golden handcuffs.” Nick said.

“Well her success shows,” Tanner said. “This place is awesome!”

Nick nodded with a half-smile, “Yeah, but you can’t take it with you.”

Tanner smiled at Nick.  He understood Nick’s response.

“Have you tried out the church just up the road?  I see it’s a fellowship church in the same denomination as ours.  I wouldn’t mind going to the service there tomorrow morning.” Tanner said.

“No, I haven’t been there.  My mom doesn’t do church, but I’m game.”

A few minutes later, Bob entered the room and plopped himself down in a bar chair. “This is good stuff, buddy,” he said as he looked around.  “Nice crib.”

Nick stood up and went to the fridge. “Beer, soda, or water.”

“Really, Nick, you have to ask?  C’mon.”

Nick grabbed three beers and handed two to his friends.  “You guys bring your swim trunks?”

“Nope, but don’t worry.  I’ll keep the shorts on.”

 “Good!”

 “I’ve got mine,” Tanner said.  He got up and said, “I’ll be right back.”

When Tanner returned, Nick led them onto the patio.

“I’m gonna fire up the grill in a little while.  We have burgers, dogs, and chicken. You name it and I’ll cook it.  Oh, and check this out.”  He opened a large cooler, stuffed to the brims with waters, sodas, beers and ice.

“Cool.  I’ll eat what you’re eating.  What’s good for you is good for me,” Tanner said as he plopped himself on a chaise lounge and looked over at Bob.

“Yeah, I’m game buddy.  Whatever you feel like cooking.  I’m drinking.”

Bob paused for a few moments before adding, “Hey, tomorrow I’m going bungee jumping with Flypaper and some girls he met last weekend.  Nothing like bungee jumping in the woods.  You guys wanna come?”

“No thanks.  Doing something with Marlis tomorrow,” Tanner said.

“Yeah, thanks but I’ve got other plans tomorrow.  I might be game some other time,” Nick added.

Bob started peeling off his cowboy boots, which exposed a yellowed pair of socks and his sweaty calves.  He rolled off his sticky socks and freed himself from his shirt, before removing his cowboy hat.  That exposed his dark brown hair, which was matted down on top of his head and matched the patch of fuzz in the center of his pasty white chest.

After standing up and stretching, he grabbed a couple of pool floats and jumped into the pool, making a hearty splash. “Wonder what the poor people are doing today?  Ha!  Yo, Tanner. Can you hand me my beer and hat?”

Tanner handed him his stuff and caught a glimpse of his dirty fingernails.  Sharing the same water with Bob was going to be painful, but he’d have to suck it up.  Chlorine. Thank God for that.

He sat back down on the chaise and guzzled down a beer.  It tasted good chilled, like liquid gold.  He’d have to pace himself though.  Didn’t want to get drunk.  “Just a few beers,” he told himself, “Just a few.”

But that wouldn’t be easy with Bobnoxious around.  The last time he saw Bob, he was drunk on a boat in a lightning storm.  He recalled that night and the way it had started out as so many nights with Bob do. With alcohol.  Alcohol probably fueled Bob’s plan.

Tanner pictured him on his patio that night as he said, “We’re always talking about old stories.  Regurgitation blows.  Let’s make some new stories.  I’ll fire up the boat.  You with me for some night skiing?”  Lightning wasn’t in the plans, but Bob probably figured that the lightning was a bonus.  “Now he can tell a story about fools,” he thought.  “Fools lucky to be alive.”

A few minutes later, he jumped in the pool, followed by Nick.  The three basked at opposite ends and listened to country music, which blared from the patio speakers.  The beers started flowing and Bob started telling stories about Flypaper, which cracked Nick and Tanner up.  Tanner had heard some of the stories before, but Bob’s new tweaks made them better.

Suddenly Bob had a serious look. “Dude, I hope you’re planning a gig here. This place is a chick magnet with serious scoring potential.”

Nick laughed, “Yeah, I’m thinking about it.”

“Well think harder, pun intended,” Bob said as he pulled himself out of the pool and strolled over to a palm tree, where he relieved himself.

“So classy.  At least he didn’t do it in the pool,” Tanner thought.

***

“Barefoot Bluejean Night” by Jake Owen was the last song Tanner remembered hearing. A cheeseburger was the last thing he remembered eating.  What he couldn’t remember when he woke up on the chaise lounge by the pool was the number of beers he’d drunk.  Or when Bob and Nick left.  Or where Nick told him he’d be sleeping.

He walked into the house and spotted the time: 3:13 a.m.  Creeping through the kitchen and towards the front door, his steps were silent on the marble floors.  The stairs jutted out in front of him as he approached the front door, and he turned to his left and climbed up them.

No one was occupying a room halfway down the hallway. Now he was in the bed in that room.

“Just a few beers.  Yeah, right.  Just a few beers.” He felt disgusted with himself as he slipped himself under the covers of a queen-size bed and fell asleep.