Even though I ate out for lunch, I decided it was a Friday night pizza night from Little Cesar’s. This was a little bit out of the way for me on my way home, but my craving for Crazy Bread was so strong, I did not care in the least. Off of Wells road there was a convenience store that had enough room for three outparcel properties along the back side. One of these was the Little Cesar’s, which opened up into the convenience store proper. I walked into the pizza shop and noticed a man in military uniform sitting to my left and a buxom black woman sitting to my right. I went to the counter and a teenaged clerk asked if he could help me.
“Yes. I’d like one hot-and-ready cheese pizza, a hot-and-ready pepperoni, and an order of Crazy Bread, please.”
The teen was diligently entering my pizza orders, but dramatically grimaced after my request for Crazy Bread. He looked up to me and said, “I’m sorry. We can’t do any Crazy Bread orders at this time.”
Something about the kid’s tone made me skeptical, so I asked, “Why not?”
He grimaced slightly and said, “Well, we’re out of bags for the Crazy Bread.”
My passion for Crazy Bread was not going to be denied by a lack of corporate packaging. I suggested, “How about you use a pizza box instead? I’ll gladly pay a premium for the upgraded packaging.”
My suggestion sent this kid for a very obvious mental loop. He reluctantly said, “I don’t…think, ...”
After the day I had, I was not in the mood for a part-time teenager to deny me my Crazy Bread fix. I said, “Your manager is willing to lose a three-dollar sale in an effort to save a box that likely costs your franchise twenty-five cents? Seriously, if you don’t have the Crazy Bread dough, then that’s one thing, but if it’s a packaging issue, you need to look at the bottom line. Newsflash, when you keep customers happy, that bottom line is green. When you keep the corporate schmucks at corporate headquarters happy, that bottom line is red.”
Before I could draw a breath to continue, I heard a familiar voice say, “I’d suck it up and fulfill her order with a fuckin’ pizza box before she gets into a full-blown business analysis. Not that this isn’t pretty damn close, but really. Save us all the grief, yeah?”
I shifted my view between Cal and the clerk, wondering who was more deserving of my ire. The teenager seemed receptive to Cal’s blunt assessment, so I focused on Cal. He was sitting next to the military man, and he was wearing his leather cut with a forest-green long-sleeve t-shirt underneath it. His jeans were indigo and looked well-worn.
“How are you here?”
He choked on some laughter, and said, “You came in after me, woman.”
I retorted with an overly-skeptical, “Really?”
The military man I had noticed upon my entry said, “Really. He was here first, Ma’am.”
I contained my grimace at being called “Ma’am” by someone who was only five to six years my junior. I mean, seriously, I didn’t think I’d be comfortable being called “Ma’am” even when I was fifty-one, let alone thirty-one.
I looked at the soldier and said, “Thank you, sir. And thank you for your service to our country.”
He shyly ducked his head and mumbled, “You’re welcome, ma’am.”
I turned back to the clerk and asked, “So, about that Crazy Bread? You gonna be able to put it in a box instead of a bag?”
The clerk turned and went into the back, presumably to speak to the manager. Cal had sidled up to me during the exchange. He leaned close and said in a low voice, “Thought you were gonna return that sweater, woman. Though, I’m glad you didn’t. I almost forgot how smokin’ hot you are in it. Almost, but not quite, sweet cheeks.”
I kept my lips pressed together as I contemplated becoming a hermit and asking my boss Sheila if I could work from home. I’d never have to leave the house, and I could wear frumpy pajamas every day. No weird half-lunches with strangely-named bikers, and any time I wanted pizza, I’d call Pizza Hut for delivery instead. Some of the grocery stores were delivering now too. Yes, being a hermit would be a piece of cake. J.D. Salinger would have nothing on me once I holed myself up.
Cal interrupted my thoughts, “No response, Mal? What’s goin’ on in your head? I called you both names you can’t stand, and seriously, nothin’?”
I looked at him and calmly said, “I’m done. I’m getting two pizzas and with any luck, an order of Crazy Bread, and then I’m done. I’m gonna become a hermit. The world can keep spinnin’ without me stepping foot out in it.”
Cal chuckled. He put an arm around my neck and pulled me to him in a hug. I didn’t return the gesture, and he pulled my arms around him and gave me a firm squeeze. Then he stepped away from me a bit to say, “You’re not becoming a hermit. I don’t know what’s got you all bummed out, but you and I are gonna have pizza and beer together tonight.”
“No, we’re not,” I informed his chest.
He tipped my chin up. “Yes, we are, Mallory. I told you I was going to see you today. I was planning to bring my pizza to your house. I was miffed about the Crazy Bread, but I’m glad to run into you here since you may have solved our Crazy Bread dilemma.”
Why did my name have to sound so pretty when he said it in full? I heard Jackie in my head saying ‘Stick to your guns!’ So, I did, and told him, “No, we’re not. You can’t just bring pizza to my house uninvited.”
He smiled his mega-watt smile and dipped his head closer and whispered, “Yeah. We are. And I can bring pizza to your house uninvited.”
Before I could refute, he touched his lips to mine lightly. A zing went through me from head to toe. I didn’t have any words, but I still managed to shake my head at him. He smirked and nodded at me. I pouted and managed to pull away. Then I realized, I had not replenished the beer at my house since Cal and his brothers fixed my fence.
“Newsflash. I have no beer in my house. So, no. We are not having pizza and beer together tonight.”
Cal leaned into me slightly. “I won’t be thwarted, Mal. And newsflash for you: right through that doorway is a full-size convenience store. I’m sure they got six-packs of Yuengling, and if they don’t, I can make an exception and get Sam Adams.”
At this point, the clerk returned carrying a large box. He said, “Large, all-meats pizza for Cal.”
Cal nabbed his pizza, which he had already paid for, and said to me, “I’m going to get some beer, and I’ll see you at your place.”
I mumbled to myself, “Maybe I could just run away and be a hermit in an undisclosed location.”
Cal heard me and said over his shoulder, “You can run, but you can’t hide.”
He went into the convenience store, and the buxom black woman caught my eye and said, “And I don’t know why you’d want to hide from him, girl. That is one very fine ass on that man.”
* * * * *
I pulled into my driveway to see Cal holding his pizza box and a white plastic bag which likely contained a six-pack and leaning against a silvery-grey Ford Mustang GT. He had backed his car into my drive, and I was having a hard time not drooling over the sports car. It was hot. I should have expected nothing less, I suppose. If a biker had to be cooped up in a car, then I would imagine they would drive something that would get them from point A to point B as fast as possible.
I stepped out of my car and opened the door to the backseat so I could get out my three pizza boxes. The manager was more than willing to make a sale with or without the proper Crazy Bread bags. Cal came to my side and took the boxes from me.
“Go unlock the door, woman. I can carry in the food.”
I decided not to rant about being called ‘woman.’ I was saving my mental energy to plot how I was going to get him to eat and get out of my house. I was picking up a vibe from him that I needed to ignore, desperately.
I opened the door and let him in. He followed me into the kitchen and put down the pizza boxes. He pulled Sam Adams out of the plastic bag, put two aside and placed the rest of the beer in the fridge.
He looked at me and said, “Where’s your church key?”
Of all the things to come out of his mouth, that was the least of what I expected. So I asked, “My what?”
He closed his eyes at me and shook his head, “Your bottle opener, sweet cheeks.”
“Oh. Front of the silverware drawer.”
I grabbed paper plates and put some Crazy Bread on my plate, then a slice of cheese and a slice of pepperoni. I sat down. Cal put a beer in front of me, and then he put Crazy Bread on his plate, pulled the large pizza box out from the bottom of the pile and nabbed two slices of his pizza and sat down next to me. Then he took a bite and watched me as I finished a Crazy Bread stick and sipped my beer.
He swallowed his pizza and asked, “Now, what’s with this hermit business? Talk to me.”
I thought about lying, but decided the truth might just set me free. And by free, I meant free of Callous in my house. Therefore, I said, “I already don’t go out much, and any time I get an itch to go somewhere, there’s always bikers there. This shit never happened to me before, but now everywhere I go, there’s you, or Razor, or some-damn-body wearing a leather cut.”
Cal gave me an assessing gaze. “You run into Razor somewhere besides the pool hall?”
I looked at the cabinets behind him for a moment, and then looked back at his face, “Yeah. I went to Jason’s Deli for lunch, and just as I sat down to wait for my order, in come three Leathernecks. I wasn’t leaving after already having paid for my food. Further, you and I are done, so I’m not going to heed your warning about getting out of a restaurant the Leathernecks are in. Anyway, Razor wasn’t with them, but when they got close enough to order, he came in the side door. I hoped I would stay under their radar, but Razor decided to sit down and eat with me, even though I was two-thirds of the way through my lunch.”
I hadn’t spent too much time with Cal. However, I could still tell his temper was quickly rising. His tone was calm when he said, “First, you and I aren’t done. I’m not gonna tell you again, woman. Second, just to clarify, you had lunch with Razor?”
“Yeah. And then I decided it was a pizza kind of night, and I ran into you. I can’t seem to shake you guys all of a sudden.”
Cal swallowed a slug of beer, then asked, “So, Razor’s the reason you’ve lost your umph and you’re talkin’ about bein’ a Goddamned hermit?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
Cal put his beer bottle down with a clink against the glass table. “Then what the hell would you say?”
I shrugged, “I don’t know. He asked me about you, and he asked me about James. He asked if he had a shot of getting in there with me, whatever the hell that means. I told him I didn’t want anyone getting in there with me, because it wasn’t fucking worth it.”
Cal had a strained look on his face, and I figured he was definitely trying to keep a lid on his temper when he said carefully, “So, you misinformed him about you and me?”
I furrowed my eyebrows. “Misinformed him? Uh, no. I did not misinform him. We’re done.”
He tilted his head at me just a fraction. “Last night, not even twenty-four hours ago, mind you, I kissed you almost senseless, woman. And I know I mentioned it was the best damn kiss I’ve had, and I also know that I told you I do not agree with you anymore and that. We. Are. Not. Done.”
At this point, my temper was off the measurement charts, so I launched in. “Here we go with the chauvinism! You can’t just declare that we’re not done and that’s that. You said we weren’t done, but I didn’t agree. Not that you fuckin’ listen to me. Not at the pizza joint this afternoon, not last night, not at the pool hall, not ever, it seems!”
Cal quietly asked me, “You told Razor it wasn’t fucking worth it?”
I took a deep breath and tried not to sound snippy when I replied, “Yep. Only leads to heartbreak.”
Cal arched an eyebrow at me. “He have any words of wisdom for that declaration of yours?”
I bit back a chuckle. “Sure did. He said I had a cavern inside of me, and I needed to let a man in to take care of it and get rid of the bats.”
Cal looked confused, “The bats?”
I smiled slightly. “Yeah. It sounds hokey, but at the time it sounded really wise, but he said that a cavern is home to nothing but bats. They keep me full in the daytime, but leave me empty at night. I guess that’s why he didn’t care who I ‘let in there,’ but just that I let some man take care of it. As if.”
Cal finished his last slice of pizza and said, “I don’t see eye-to-eye with Razor about many things, but that might be the one exception to the rule. And, if you repeat this, I’ll deny it to hell and back, but he’s right.”
I wanted to giggle, but my temper still hadn’t settled, so I just smiled. Cal took a bite of Crazy Bread, stood up and pulled a beer from the fridge. He went to the counter where he left the bottle opener, and popped the top. When he returned to the table, he pulled his chair closer to me, and then said, “Now. What’s this ‘as if,’ statement supposed to mean?”
For just two words, it meant a lot of things. But I wasn’t sure exactly how much of that I was going to share with Cal. Initially it meant, ‘as if a man could fix it.’ Thinking on it, though, I realized it was ‘as if I was going to let Cal, Razor or James be the man to try to fix it.’ I wanted it to mean, ‘as if I had a cavern,’ but even I couldn’t bury my head so deep in the sand as to deny the hole in my heart and soul. I gave Cal a look, and thought he would let it slide.
No such luck.
“As if any man can fill up that cavern you have inside you?”
I was frustrated, I had been angry, and finding out that Cal could read me like a book made me sad. All of which meant tears filmed over my eyes and I could feel my nose burning. I pressed my lips together in an effort to fight the tears. I would not let him see me cry, so I turned my head toward the kitchen window. I heard Cal’s chair scrape against the tile floor, and then his fingers gently pulled my face toward him. He was a total blur, and I closed my eyes, which forced two alligator tears down my cheeks. I felt his callused fingers wipe each one away. I took a deep breath through my nose, and Cal tucked my hair behind my right ear.
I opened my eyes and Cal’s face was extremely close to mine. He said, “I can do it, Mallory. I know I can, but you gotta let me do it. Coupla weeks ago, I agreed with you because I didn’t know what to do to get around your fortress. I thought it was more trouble than it was worth. That week was the shittiest week I’d had in a fuckin’ long time. Then when I realized Razor gave you his number and fuckin’ felt you up while doin’ it, I thought my head would explode. Then to add to my misery, I saw that look on your face when you watched him walk away. I don’t know how I didn’t beat his ass to a bloody pulp in the parking lot.”
I opened my mouth to interrupt, but Cal put his index finger on it, “Wait. Then you gave me lip in the parking lot, and I remembered how damn high-maintenance you were and told myself I made the right decision. But, God, seein’ you at that pool hall! I wanted to haul you out by your hair when I saw you holdin’ a cue stick and wigglin’ your hips to that music you uploaded.”
I interrupted, “You were there that long? I didn’t see you.”
Cal nodded slightly. “I walked in and saw James with his head bent to rack ‘em up. Thought he was there alone, and I wasn’t in the mood for company, so I made my way over to the dart boards and watched from afar. Not my normal MO, but then I noticed Prank and Bush eyein’ you at the jukebox. I was keepin’ my shit together by a thread, but when they made their approach, I had to wade in. Your tirade about property and stuff should have sent me for the hills, but something about it made me want to prove your ass wrong.”
Cal ran his hand down my cheek and along my neck. “Your skin might be the softest thing I’ve ever felt, and that’s just the skin on your face, baby. I don’t have to tell you how I feel about that dress you wore last night because my kiss said it all, and you already know what I think about this biker-babe outfit too.”
Cal slid my hair over my shoulder and placed a kiss on my neck just above where his fingers were. His tongue came out to touch my neck and I reflexively tilted my head. He pulled away and asked, “What I need to know is, are you going to open the door to that fortress you got around you?”
His hands and mouth had me so calm, my mouth said, “Isn’t that the 64,000-dollar question?”
Cal smiled at me. “You’re gonna let me in.”
I withdrew from his hold, and stood up with my plate, mumbling, “Cocky, much?”
As I tried to step by him to throw away my plate, he hooked me at the waist, looked up at me, and said, “Wanna find out just how cocky?”
A zing shot up from my belly to my nipples as I remembered our make-out session a couple of weeks back. I really wasn’t sure if I wanted to find out how cocky he really was. His fingers pressed into my side, and he let me go saying, “Gotta work on that poker face, Mal. Though, I like being able to read your thoughts on your face.”
I threw away my plate and put my beer bottle in the recycle bin. I pulled down a glass and filled it with water at the fridge. I took a sip, and had just swallowed when Cal was standing behind me and he turned me around. He firmly tilted my head back and started kissing me. It was a gentle, but thorough kiss ‒with tongue. Cal tasted like beer, garlicky Crazy Bread, and Cal. It was scrumptious. His hands wandered from my neck down to my ass. I was at a distinct disadvantage because I had a glass of water in one hand. He moved me out of the kitchen to the living room while still kissing me. When the back of my legs hit the arm of a couch, I pulled away enough to put my water on the coffee table.
I straightened and Cal pushed me backwards over the arm of the couch. My ass was settled into the base of the arm of the couch and my legs were draped over the arm. Cal was standing between my legs and his eyes were roaming my body.
He growled, “Fuck. This couch has a lot of potential, woman.”
“Well, that wasn’t a selling point from the saleslady at Haverty’s.”
Cal shrugged out of his cut and folded it up, placing it on the coffee table near my water. Then he lifted up my pant leg and started taking off my boots. Once he had both boots off of my feet, he practically pounced on me on the couch. His fingers went into my hair, and he took my upper lip in between his teeth. Just as quickly as he did this, he let my lip go and kissed me deep and wet. His hands started pulling at my sweater, and I started pulling at his green long-sleeve. My right leg hooked around his hips ‒and I thought I heard my doorbell ring.
Cal started to pull away, but I managed to pull him back to me. I had a hand up inside his shirt and was trying to wriggle my other hand into his jeans, when I knew the doorbell rang. Then I pulled back saying, “What the fuck?”
Cal’s eyes glittered at me and he said, “Took the words right out of my mouth.”
Cal pushed himself up to standing, which made his biceps noticeably bulge, even in long sleeves. Nice. He adjusted himself in his jeans which I noticed were also bulging. Very nice. I rolled off the couch and went to the door in my socked feet. I checked the peephole and saw my mother and father standing at the door holding overnight bags. I jerked back and bumped into Cal behind me. I whirled on him and whispered, “Hide.”
His lips were tipped up, but his eyes were squinting at me and his eyebrows were encroaching on his eyelids in a big way. He did not whisper when he replied, “I don’t hide, Mal.”
That was when my father’s muffled voice said, “Who’s there? Mallory, open this door. Kathy, call Mallory. Now.”
I took a deep breath and opened the door, trying to hide Cal in the process. Unfortunately, those sexy biceps of his allowed him to pry the door from me and pull it wide open. Shit. His shirt was untucked and messy-looking, and I could only imagine what my hair looked like after he ran his fingers through it so much. I was guessing my cheeks were pink, and not from embarrassment, but from Cal’s five-o’clock stubble. After ten years of marriage and a child, obviously my parents knew I had been sexually active, but they didn’t know I was getting back in the proverbial saddle again. This was not how I wanted them to find out.
My mother closed her eyes for a beat or two, looked down to her feet, then looked up at me, tilting her head slightly to the side. This was her nonverbal indicator that I was going to get it from my father, and she was in no position to stop it, but she felt bad about it nevertheless. I mentioned that I’m thirty-one, right? As far as my father is concerned, I’ll always be seventeen, at best. I chanced a glance at my father and saw his lips were thin in an anger-stifling move. He was looking hard and long at Cal. I nudged Cal back and stepped back myself while taking hold of the door again and said, “Well, this is a surprise. Come on in.”
My mother stepped past me with a sympathetic smile that was gone as fast as it appeared. She was wearing jeans and a baby-blue cable-knit sweater. She was carrying an overnight bag and there was a small soft-sided cooler hanging from her arm along with her purse. My father stepped in, took the door from me, closed it, and bolted it. He was also carrying an overnight bag. Once inside, he looked to the left and right walls of the foyer. He looked at me and said, “Where’s the alarm system?”
No “Hi, how are you?” No “Nice to see you after two months, and who is your friend?” Nope. That's my dad, straight to the reason for his visit. Where’s the alarm system? Deep down, I knew this was an exceptional sign of parental love and protectiveness; but honestly I hadn’t been kissed on the regular in nearly eighteen months which meant I hadn’t been laid in a year and a half either. To say their timing sucked was the understatement of the century.
“Dad, I had an appointment for last Friday, but the company you wanted me to use had to cancel –”
“That was a week ago, Mallory Jane. What is the hold up? Your home was broken into. Your mother and I are worried sick.”
I was appalled to hear Cal say, “I’m sorry, sir, but the SafeNow system isn’t going to be installed here.”
Not only was it the wrong thing to say to my father, it was the wrong thing to say to me as well. I spoke before my father, “What do you mean, it isn’t going to be installed here? How do you even know SafeNow was the company I had an appointment with?”
Cal looked at me carefully and actually answered some of my questions for once. “My brother has a security-system company. His is the crème de la crème. Your girlfriend Jackie mentioned to him that you had an appointment with SafeNow, and she wanted him to take care of your security system instead.”
I had had a niggling feeling last Friday that the sudden cancellation had something to do with Jackie. Dammit! These people were relentless, even the “old ladies.”
My father’s face was almost contorted in a sneer at Cal, “Then where is this ‘crème de la crème?’ My daughter’s safety is at risk here, and who are you and your brother?”
There was a segue to introductions if ever there was one. That in mind, I said, “Dad, this is Cal. Cal this is my father John Thompson, and my mother Kathy Thompson.”
Cal held out his hand to my father, and he reluctantly shook it while Cal said, “Cal Robertson, sir.” Then he gently shook my mother’s hand and said the same thing, replacing the “sir” with “ma’am.”
I tried to take the conversational reins again, saying, “Let me get your bags, and let’s discuss this sitting down in the living room.”
My father looked like he was about to say something, but my mother jumped in (finally!). “John, honey. We’ve been on the road for almost five hours. Let’s use the bathroom, and sit down with Mallory and her friend.”
My father caught her drift and nodded grudgingly. She went toward the bathroom while I took their bags to the guest room, and Cal went to the living room with my father trailing him like a bloodhound on the hunt for a killer.
Hermithood was looking better and better.