St Eubrie: 516 Peach Avenue (358 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 2 on 5 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Arizhel (View user info) at 2006-10-06 16:40:51 EDT
Finally finished.
I know, I'm slow.
Previous: http://www.ubersite.com/m/93026
******
Kevin sat at the dining room table, a pair of mugs and a full pot of that holiest of caffeinated beverages in front of him. He poured both mugs full of coffee and set one in the space across the table from him, then sipped at his own and watched idly as she finished up breakfast. He couldn't help but smile as his mind wandered, and he found himself thinking back to the first time they'd met. She'd been just as beautiful to him then as she was now. She'd been jogging up Peach Avenue in a pair of shorts and a turqoise crop-top. He'd been coming home from work, bare weeks after he'd moved in. As a neighborhood fixture to a new arrival, she'd stopped to talk. It's only polite, after all. That's just the kind of thing that good neighbors do.
It was nothing but pointless small talk, that old standby that nobody ever seems to get their fill of, but everybody hates doing anyway. The weather, the neighborhood, what a nice house he'd gotten, that kind of thing. Did he have any pets, did he live with anyone? No, and no, he'd said. For the most part, she asked the questions, and he answered them, honestly and succinctly. He didn't want to pry. After a while, it started to get dark. She mentioned that her husband was probably waiting for dinner, and jogged the rest of the way back to her house.
Kevin watched her until she turned up the sidewalk leading to her front door. He tried not to stare at her ass, and mostly succeeded. Mostly.
They'd talked several times a week after that, usually when her jogging coincided with his getting home. It was a little strange how often it happened, he had to admit, but he certainly wasn't complaining. Not at all. He lived by himself, so company was never a bad thing, even if it was just a short conversation. He found himself looking forward to the times that she'd be jogging back to her house as he pulled into the driveway. Her husband didn't seem to mind, or if he did, he didn't say anything about it to Kevin. In fact, Kevin had never met the guy. All he knew is that her husband was some high-powered muckety-muck of some sort, the kind that's got a closetful of nearly-identical suits, and a whole drawer dedicated entirely to his collection of ties.
Kevin had thought he was alone in the way he felt about her. After all, she was married. She had a nice house, a good husband, and a part-time job as a secretary somewhere or other, despite the fact that there's no way they needed the income. She'd never told him where she worked, only what she did, even once he did pluck up the courage to start asking questions of his own. They were neighbors, and quite possibly becoming friends, but nothing more. Or so it seemed. He'd never once dared to think that perhaps his feelings weren't unrequited. Last night was most definitely a surprise to him. Not an unpleasant one, to be sure, but a surprise nonetheless.
The clink of a plate on the table shook him from his reverie.
"What were you thinking about? You were off in la-la-land there for quite awhile, Kev," she said, laughing as she set silverware in front of him. "You had the goofiest smile on your face, too. Almost like you were stoned or something."
"Just thinking about you," he admitted, then blushed slightly, looking down at his plate. Two fried eggs and several slices of bacon, and a couple of pieces of toast. "I... I'm just wondering if this is right, I guess. What we're doing, I mean." He frowned and picked up the fork, stabbing one of the egg yolks with it.
She gave an exasperated sigh, and remained silent for several minutes. During that time, she went to the kitchen, retrieved her own plate, and sat down across from him. She nibbled on a slice of toast thoughtfully. "Probably not," she ventured after a few minutes. "But what could we do? Go on pretending to be nothing more than neighbors and friends? I know you watch me every time I jog back to the house. I count on it, in fact."
He pushed his breakfast around on the plate absently for a few moments, then looked up at her, his dark eyes questioning. "What are we going to do, then?" He allowed a slight smirk to quirk his lips. "Assuming there is a 'we' here, that is."
She scowled, her eyes narrowing dangerously before she looked down at her breakfast, but she made no reply. The two of them ate in silence, then merely sat across from each other, neither meeting the other's eyes. After a few minutes, she shook her head. "I should get going." Her voice quavered. She picked up her plate and rinsed it off in the sink, then turned toward the hallway, only to find him behind her. She tried to step around him, but the path to the hall was narrow, and it was easy enough for Kevin to block her path. She looked up at him, her eyes flashing anger.
"I didn't mean it that way," Kevin said, his voice soft, his expression earnest. His plate was left back on the table, so his hands were free. He took one of hers into both of his, and kissed her fingers. "I'm sorry. I just... you're married, Mel. As much as I enjoyed what happened here, it can't just go on this way. It's not fair to any of us. Especially to you."
"I'd like to be able to say that I married him for the money," she replied, then sighed, laying her head on his shoulder. His arms went around her, seemingly of their own accord. "But I didn't. He didn't even -have- any money when we met. He was going through law school on financial aid and prayers. I loved him... once. Now... he's always gone. I know he thinks that he's doing it for me, but I don't -want- the money. I'd... I'd rather have him."
Kevin hugged her close, his arms tightening around her. Like a friend would. That's what she needed right now. There was a pause, as if he hesitated to even think what he had to say. "Then you need to tell him that." She started to protest, but one of his fingers came up to cover her lips. "Don't worry about me. I'll manage. Worry about you."
He kissed her softly then. She nodded dumbly in response, and hugged him again. Like a friend. She slipped past him into the hallway then, and headed back to his bedroom. There were the usual rustling sounds of someone getting dressed, then a muted creak from the bed as she sat down. Perhaps she was putting her shoes on.
Kevin sat down at the table and stared into the remnants of his breakfast. He didn't even look up when he heard the front door close behind her. After he heard her footsteps take her away from the porch, he pitched the fork at the door in frustration. "Fuck," he thought. He jumped then, realizing that he'd spoken aloud. "Why do I have to be so nice, anyway?" he inquired of nobody in particular. The dirty plate and silverware on the table didn't seem inclined to answer, in any case. Neither did the fork over by the front door. Kevin shook his head, then went to pour himself a scotch. It's never too early for a drink.
Before Mel even arrived home, she knew something was amiss. Her husband's sensible, yet sporty, red car should have been parked in lot A-10 at the airport. Third space on the left side of the sixth row. Instead, it was in the driveway. As she walked past it, she laid a hand on the hood, and discovered that it was still warm. The engine ticked intermittently as it cooled, despite the midday sun beating down.
She let herself in the front door, and found him waiting for her in the living room, still dressed in one of his many gray suits. Not too fancy, but not exactly cheap, either. A suit that spoke of confidence. A white shirt and one of his infamous power ties rounded out the ensemble. He was slightly rumpled, but none the worse for wear considering it must have been either a very early or a very late flight to get him here by now. The snub-nosed revolver in his hand, however, didn't add up with the rest. He held it against his temple. As she entered, he looked up, tears welling in his eyes.
She blinked in surprise. "Honey?"
He made no reply. Instead, he just kept staring.
"What... what are you doing?"
The faintest ghost of a wistful smile touched his lips, and he looked down at the floor, at a bouquet of roses that lay there, carelessly dropped at his feet. Red roses, a dozen of them, a deceptively sweet scent rising from the bruised and crushed petals. A silver-wrapped square box, sitting beside the bouquet, the festive red bow on top crumpled. For her. "The rest of the meetings... they were postponed. One of the partners got sick. Food poisoning. We rescheduled. I thought I'd surprise you..." He trailed off, swallowed, then looked back up at her.
"Jason, stop this. Put the gun away. We can talk. We'll get some help. We'll take a vacation, and get away from everything for awhile. Whatever you need, baby. Just stop scaring me like this." Her voice edged upward toward the end, becoming shrill.
He merely stared, the gun unwavering. "I don't want you to be unhappy. I don't want you to be lonely. All I ever wanted was for you to have the kind of life you deserved to live. That's all. That's what I've been working toward all this time." He paused, then looked away. "It's better this way." Slowly, deliberately, he pulled the hammer back.
"No. You don't have to do this..." Suddenly, realization hit. She slumped against the frame of the door between the foyer and the living room and slid to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, her expression stricken. "You know, don't you?" she whispered, her fingers trembling as she brushed a stray strand of long, blonde hair out of her eyes. "God... You've always known."
He nodded sadly, then closed his eyes. "I know. I knew every time. But I love you anyway."
The hammer on the pistol fell.
A short time later, it fell again.
The first gunshot sent Kevin to the window, looking up and down the street. The second sent him running out the door, pelting barefoot down the sidewalk. He ran into the living room of their house, not even bothering to knock, then stopped in his tracks. He saw the two bodies, one of them slumped over in a chair, and the other resting haphazardly against the first. The one in the chair was dressed in a gray suit, impeccable but for the blood, and the other... the other had all too familiar pale skin and blonde hair, her ice-blue eyes now glazed and staring. A snub-nosed revolver was in her right hand. Kevin saw the blood dripping onto the ruined roses, the silver wrapped box, mingling on the pale blue carpet beneath. There was some on the wall beside the chair, and on the chair itself.
Even the sirens in the distance didn't prompt him to move. All he could do was stare, unbelieving. The ambulance screamed into the driveway, and the EMT's hustled past him, but still, he didn't move. He simply stood and watched as they did what they could, which wasn't much, then shook their heads sadly and carted the couple away, their bodies covered. Then the police came, with their uniforms and their badges, their best intentions, and worst of all, their questions.
It was time to move on again.
~FIN~
User Reviews
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2006-11-02 17:50:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by DCWoody (user info) at 2006-10-07 21:12:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2006-10-06 21:50:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
me likie
Submitted by goferforhire (user info) at 2006-10-06 17:37:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
thanks
Submitted by Maltese (user info) at 2006-10-06 16:42:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
NOBODY DOES THESE ANYMORE FAGGOT
This was good though.
I mean REALLY good.
And by REALLY good I mean one of the best posts this week.