The Morbid and Sultry Tales of Genevieve Clare (26 page)

“It’s getting pretty cold. And it smells like someone hit a deer near here.” Ahren pulled me into his body, then wrapped his open coat around me.

I looked up at him with the best bedroom eyes I could muster. “I’m thinking this is one of those situations where I open your fly…like this.” I unzipped carefully, feeling his hard length as it strained against his jeans and boxers. I pulled him out and stroked him with my hand.

His head tilted back as his fingers sifted through my hair. “Fuck, that feels good.” All thoughts of the setting sun, the suddenly cold late November weather, and road kill were gone.

As much as I would have liked to drop to my knees and take him in my mouth, my gag reflex probably wouldn’t appreciate that considering the workout it’d been getting. Instead, I went to my knees, dropped my jeans and panties, turned and waited with my ass in the brisk air. I didn’t wait long as he dropped down behind me. His long fingers brushed each cheek gently before they curled onto either hip, and, in one stealthy maneuver, he pushed inside.

My eyes squeezed closed, and my head snapped up in the sheer pleasure of being filled by him. There was an ache, so deep, I kept urging him, “Harder… harder,” to which he responded immediately.

It had been two weeks, or seventeen days if you wanted to be precise, since we’d had sex. We were always intimate, always touching, holding hands, kissing…but I sure missed flat-out fucking, and so, apparently, did he.

After I came, twice, he was slowly working up to his own second coming. I was now on my back, looking to the sky, when I heard footsteps.

Footsteps.

A man cleared his throat, and I mumbled, “Oh no no no no no. No no no. Please don’t be a psycho, please don’t be a psycho.”

“Ahren?” the man asked.

“Chad?” he returned. “Give us a sec, will ya?”

“Sure thing man. But make it quick.” Chad Healy, my best friend’s half-brother, the man who carried me away from my family’s accident, local law enforcement, and hot guy had just seen me and Ahren in the throes of ecstasy, where I was pretty sure I’d said something along the lines of, “Your cock feels enormous,” and “Keep fucking me until the sun comes up tomorrow, baby.”

Clothes on, we walked to Chad, who was leaning against his car, his cell to his ear.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just off the highway at the back of the winery. The fields on this side are empty. Yeah. Yeah, I’ll wait. No problem.”

Before I could hide my embarrassment and Ahren could apologize for trespassing or whatever the hell it was that brought Chad to seek us out, Chad spoke first. “Did you two hear about that missing old guy? Dementia patient? His son reported him missing a few days ago. That winery beyond the hills there is his. He handed it down to his kids. He walks the grounds, but they said he usually stays right around the big house. Anyway, they checked out here already, but I volunteered to drive around and keep my eyes out. Saw your new car parked randomly, some might even say suspiciously… Anyway, he’s lying under those trees about ten feet from where you guys were.”

What?

“Excuse me?” I asked. I felt Ahren squeeze my hand.

“There’re tire marks, a deep skid. The forensics guys will go over all that, but my guess… He was probably out here, it was dark, hit and run. In fact, most drivers would assume with how dark it gets out here, they’d hit a deer.”

“God, just like Darryl Oskin,” I commented under my breath. Ahren caught it, but Chad didn’t.

The thing about being a professional mourner, it’s assumed you have no problem at all with dead bodies. And normally, I probably wouldn’t. However, this was what you called a special situation. There’s strong stomach and there’s downright creepy stomach with the addition of pregnancy. This was beyond creepy.

I slowly turned from Ahren and took huge, cleansing breaths while chanting to myself, “I will not throw up. I will not throw up.”

His hand was at my back. “Gen?” he asked.

But I just shook my head. I was afraid to talk for fear of puking.

“At least we got to have some great fucking sex,” he whispered.

Then he was laughing. I could hear him trying to keep from laughing, and worse, Chad had joined him as he walked up to me and put his cell phone near my ear.

“Rocky wants to talk to you.”

Great.

“Dude,” I said carefully. “I’m… Dude.”

She was laughing hysterically before she spoke. “I just want to say, your life is super fun.”

“I have to speak quietly or the puke fairy might join our conversation. I was feeling great all day, so I’m thinking this bout of nausea is because of the rotting corpse smell I can’t get out of my nose now.”

“Gross,” she said. “Kinda surprised that bugs you though.”

“Me, too, but this is… ” I walked farther away from Chad and Ahren, farther away from the origin of the smell, and whispered to Rocky, “this is like a horror movie scene. We were having sex right next to a dead body.”

“If you reached out your hand, could you touch him?”

“Well, no,” I replied.

“Then it’s not right next to him. I get it; it’s weird, but from what Chad said, you guys were really going at it. Don’t let the dead guy ruin a great memory.” I just listened and kept taking deep breaths as another car pulled up. “Gen, this is one of those times when you’ll be old and sitting on the dock Ahren rebuilt and you’ll say, ‘Remember that time we fucked on the edge of that vineyard where that dead body was?’ It’ll be dinner party conversation that’ll make your kids cover their ears and say, ‘Lah lah lah.’ You hear what I’m saying?”

“How’s married life?” I asked, changing the subject. My friend had found the silver lining.

“Married life isn’t much different than non-married life. Awesome because I’ve got a great guy, piece of paper or not.” She was my maid of honor and right-hand man when it came to, well, everything wedding. “It’s going to be a beautiful day, honey.”

We wrapped up our conversation, and I gave Chad his phone back. It had beeped twice with another call trying to get through, and, considering the circumstances, I thought I better not tie it up anymore.

We were two hours from Greer’s Rest when we’d pulled over. I’d managed to snooze a bit, and once we were away from the smell I would now file away in my “don’t go any closer” pile, I no longer felt sick. Hallelujah. No sooner had we arrived home did my cell ring.

“Hello?” I said into the phone.

“Genevieve…” Cheryl spoke the next words carefully. “You better come down… Bryce.”

Ahren convinced me to eat something, assuming we would have a long night ahead of us. I quickly showered and changed my clothes before we made our way to The Elms. He stood at the door and watched as I took up residence next to Bryce and held his hand. 

Bryce lifted the oxygen mask from his face and said, “Cookie. Might not make it to your wedding.”

I was ready for this. I’d told myself on the drive there, I was ready. He’d hired me. I was meant to be strong for him.

“Sorry, Gen girl. Reaper’s an asshole like that.” He grinned and put the mask back to his face while I wiped away a tear. “Where’s your fella?” he asked, his voice muffled.

“Hello, Bryce.” Ahren was suddenly behind me with his hands on my shoulders.

“She loves you somethin’ fierce. Lucky… Great titties on her.”

Ahren chuckled silently while Bryce’s mouth moved into a slow smile then removed his mask again.

“Cookie, I’ve got a DNR,” he breathed. “Part of me wants to change it so I can be there for ya. First time I’ve ever entertained the thought of being kept alive by a machine.” He took a few more labored breaths, and I could see the energy it took. “Gimme a kiss, Cookie.”

I leaned in and kissed his cheek, and Bryce held my hand.

“I’ll be sure to keep your family company over there at Eden Hills. I’ll grab my Missus and head on over for a good old-fashioned haunting. You put out five glasses of champagne for them on your wedding night so we don’t have to all share, you hear me?” I nodded, not speaking a word. He put the mask back on. “Time to go, Cookie.” He spoke as he closed his eyes. “Gonna miss ya… You walk to your man on the big day, hold your head high, know you got people alive and dead walking every step of the way with ya… Love ya, girl.”

And he was gone. Just like that.

My sobs came fast and hard, my entire body buckling with each one. I laid my head on his shoulder to hug him and realized that Bryce, the quintessential bitter, old man had opened up to me, and in doing so, he opened a part of my heart that I’d kept closed up tight for years.

Ahren pulled up a chair and sat with us. I had no idea how long, but eventually Cheryl came in. We left his room holding hands, and the entire time, I was thinking how much I was going to enjoy a haunted Eden Hills.

****

This is what I was hired to do. I’d had two clients that became friends, Delilah and Bryce. When they hired me, I had no idea they were already connected to me. Delilah knew my gran, and her garden was designed by Ahren’s dad. Then Bryce, well, Ahren used to mow his lawn. It was a small world, the one I resided in. And with the passing of Bryce, it just got a little smaller.

Ahren sat in an armchair in our bedroom and watched me. I saw him in the mirror, studying me as I pushed one final hat pin through my little pillbox.

“You really wear that look well, you know?” He gave me a relaxed smile, one that said everything it needed to on a day like today.

“I was born in the wrong era,” I commented. “Pity, the skirt is getting a little tight.”

I watched his body language change. He’d reacted to something I’d said, but I wasn’t sure what.

I turned in the seat, crossed my legs at the ankle, and asked gently, “What is it, baby?”

He took a breath, looked down at his hands, then took another breath and said, “I’m sorry, Gen.”

I walked the four steps to him and sat on his lap. He carefully tucked me into him, careful not to disturb my hat.

“I love you,” I whispered into his neck, thankful that he understood today wasn’t just another funeral.

We arrived at Everly and Scott Funeral Home. Ruby was there, standing near the back with Cheryl, chatting away like they were the oldest of friends. Love had completely changed the disposition of Cheryl, and she and Taylor were now engaged…and they went bowling every Thursday night. They had matching shirts, shoes, and everything. Her big smile and wink seemed to be beckoning me to her so, I excused myself from Ahren and went to say hello.

She smiled and pulled me to the side so she could say something privately to me. “Genevieve Clare.”

“I feel like I have you and Mr. Oskin to thank for everything good that has happened. Taylor and me, well, we’re tying the knot in Vegas. There’s a bowling tournament there in May, and we would love it if you and Ahren would join us. Just a small thing. We’ll go out to dinner after and then probably go bowling.” She laughed. “I can’t wait to go bowling in my dress and Taylor in his tuxedo.”

“Thanks for the invite, Cheryl. That is wonderful news, really. We may have to play it by ear, all right?” I didn’t want to let her down, but honestly, I was going to be about seven months pregnant. Who knows how I’d be feeling by then.

“Oh gosh.” She looked down at my stomach. “I nearly forgot. I completely understand.”

“We’ll play it by ear.” I actually hoped we could go. I had visions of me with a huge belly wearing something with obnoxiously large flowers, a mocktail in one hand, the other pushing the button on a slot machine over and over again.

I made my way back to Ahren’s side. Part of my job was to speak at Bryce’s funeral, so I took my place at the front, with Bryce in his closed casket behind me, and waited as everyone sat down.

“The day I met Bryce Oskin, his first words to me were, ‘Who the fuck are you?’” The room of about ten laughed heartily, knowing very well who the man was. “He commented on my boobs within ten minutes of meeting me. But this was all a test, and I was so happy to have passed it. What a blessing it was to have this man in my life. Surly in attitude and generous in heart. He spoke of his wife and how much he missed her. So, to you, Bryce, safe travels… See you later, my dear friend.”

I spoke from the heart and hoped, wherever Bryce was, he would appreciate my words. Nothing I wrote in the two days after he’d passed seemed right. He’d become such a big part of my healing, of letting my family go after all these years, and letting Ahren into my heart. How did you thank someone for that kind of gift? It was more than friendship; it was love, plain and simple.

After Ruby shared a few funny stories of pornography making the rounds amongst the other old men of The Elms, she shared that, when she came to California and started working there, Bryce looked her in the eyes and said, “Ah, you’ll find someone better. Tears should only be wasted on an asshole if you have hemorrhoids.” By the end, everyone was laughing so hard, they were crying.

Ahren and I were led to the back by Taylor, with Cheryl at his side. She had no qualms about dead bodies or cremation and joined us as Taylor opened Bryce’s casket. I put on a pair of blue latex gloves as Ahren handed me two pieces of Meyer lemon cake with vanilla bean cream cheese frosting. It was the first piece of cake we ever shared, and later, he’d always comment how he wasn’t sure if it was his favorite because it was the first he’d tried from Brewster’s or if it was just the best. I found that nostalgia always made things taste better if there was a good memory to go with it.