Ep 5.

To be fair, I didn’t say yes. But I didn’t do so no either.

I was just surprised. And also, he offered to cook at his place. Bills are tight. What kind of a fool of a girl would I be not to accept free food? Look, I am not going to sugarcoat that this wasn’t some selfish whim, but given that my arm was not in the best of conditions, I can’t cook very well for myself.

And then there is Carl. His relationship makes me a little jealous. Not that I don’t think he doesn’t deserve it. He does, especially after giving me one last chance. Yeah, he was unhappy about my last drinking binge. I was too. So I suppose hearing about my new friend, whom he viewed as reformed, made him think I was seeking a sponsor. I wasn’t, but I would not clarify the situation to him either.

I mean, who knows what’s in the cards? Bob is very, very attractive. And sure, I might have put on my best dress, but I have to stress that this is all calculated. If he’s a decent cook, well, who am I to turn down just an opportune time to be pampered a bit?

Bob may not be the bad boy, but he could be a good guy. The last good guy was a long time ago. Personally, despite the questionable nature of who he was and I was to him, it was still a good time.

Maybe, just maybe, Bob could be that.

I mean, I wasn’t expecting much from his place. The bar was low, like a limbo competition, low. No mental image in my head of some bachelor pad. I still had my fingers crossed that he might still be a bad boy at heart. Could you blame a girl?

Anyway, it was shocking to find out he had a pretty decent house. Not too big, not too small. Nice little lawn with a fence all to himself.

That’s when I realized I had no clue what sort of work Bob got himself into. He wore the most basic items which lent to the image in my head of who he was. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no gold digger. It’s not that he had to be well off, but Bob was doing well enough. No bike, unfortunately, but he had a nice pickup parked to the side.

When he opened the door and welcomed me in, the smell of cologne smacked me like a brick wall. There is something called moderation, and he was not practicing it. However, I had to admit he was putting in more effort that I had seen from him before. Nice button shirt, a coat. Hair is still a mess, but I sort of dig it. Yeah, I don’t think Bob is a bad boy at all. It’s a pity, but you have to make do.

No home tour. The simple layout presented itself. A small home can afford you such glee. I will say though, it makes decorating easy as well. No fancy furniture. Simple as the man himself, as he led the way down the hall and into the dining room.

He pulled out my chair. Proper gentlemen like. An art form that I believe is dying. The smell of tonight’s dinner was interesting. Much like his place, I wasn’t expecting much from a single man. I didn’t need him to be a Michelin chef, but I hoped for at least an edible meal.

What he placed on the table were plates with what I could only hope was pasta. Uneasy about the sauce that he seemed to make, I asked, “Bob, what is this?”

“I believe it’s called turkey.”

I mistook it for pesto. Whatever this is, it was definitely not turkey. What was more concerning were his words, ‘he believes.’

I had to take a step back and ask myself, did he not buy it? Is it not an odd answer? Why wouldn’t he know what he was making?

Skeptically, I turned to pouring myself a glass of water from the pitcher that sat in the center. My actions may have created the wrong impression.

“You don’t like it, huh?”

I wasn’t ready for his question. Part of me wanted to make a joke. Tease how maybe it was his cooking that put Cherly in the hospital, but I didn’t want to bring her up. Although I was still curious about her. Instead, I searched for the words that would make for the best excuse as to why my stomach churned at the sight of the unknown contents on my plate.

“I…am allergic. In fact, I don’t eat meat. Sorry, I forgot to mention that earlier.”

“Oh! Ahh, I see. Forgive me. I should have asked.”

“No, no, don’t. It’s fine.”

“That’s... I can make something else. I thought it would be best to make this with Carbonara, since it seemed like the safest option.”

Carbonara is supposed to be white…

My face has a terrible trait of betraying me at times I most want to keep my thoughts to myself. Carl mentioned it, but a buddy cop friend of his went on and on, implying I’m not as nice as I seem.

It’s not my fault he wasn’t my type. Though, looking back on it, I could have been nicer in letting him down than spitting in his face.

“We can order food if that’s easier,” Bob chimed, dragging me out of my head. He was already prying open a bottle of champagne and pouring one glass for himself and I.

“Umm…”

Is he an idiot? I mean, it’s not like we both went to the same anonymous gathering where the topic was about our shared love for alcohol-related passion. That being said. I attempted to tell Carl that I would try. Genuinely try this time. Not that my arm was still in a cast. A fresh reminder—evidence that I might need to look at things differently.

Given the last hiccup, I can’t really argue that maybe it is a problem for me.

“Bob, I think we should just stick to water.”

His eyes went wide with the settling realization of what his actions meant.

“Oh, I see. Yeah, I messed up again, didn’t I? That’s on me. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Damn, I keep messing things up. Why is this so hard?”

He scratched his head hard over the matter. Nothing to harp on, but I could relate. Sometimes your hands just move in the dark. Routines and habits being in the driver and passenger seat with you in the back to only sit and watch as your destination comes into view.

“Hey don’t worry about it,” I said. Occasionally, it was preferable to numb the pain, letting the haze cloud it. But this time, clarity with the annoying drumming of those voices telling me to take the wheel for myself hummed louder than ever.

I calmed him down only to meet that face. His poor handsome puppy dog face that left me placing my hand on his. His eyes were so green. Like emeralds hidden in an evergreen forest perched within the mountainside.

“I know. Why not pour some juice and say we are drinking mimosas?”

“Mimosa...?”

“Yeahh... or maybe not.”

He flashed a stoic look. The contours of his face shone through. Yeah, he has every angle covered. A part of me wanted to just kiss him, but I can’t do that. Not in a sober state. It would just look too easy. And I am not that easy.

Yet... here I was. Thinking back on it, I never really threw myself at anyone like this before. Have I grown so desperate?

Taking a chance to gaze upon Bob again, I leaned in, his face close to mine. To be honest, I wanted to resist. Guys talk. I can’t have stories going around. Especially with my younger brother being a cop and all. Carl is patient, but I know after my time back at the diner, teasing his friends when they came to get dinner left him being only so tolerable.

I never mentioned why he became a cop. Let’s just say that, unlike me, he made one mistake that opened his eyes for good.

“Jessie...” Bob called.

His nose grazed mine.

I looked into his eyes before his lips. His breath was subtle and steady as it caressed my cheek. He leaned further, and I didn’t resist, as I let his lips meet mine. I thought he would be more experienced, but I soon realized he had no idea what he was doing. There was an amateurish movement that only comes from someone having their first kiss.

Of course, I can’t ask him if I am…his first. But it was pretty obvious.

Getting caught up in the moment, I couldn’t help but feel my one good hand trickle down to his waist. Where God’s grace blessed a man to be a man. But when I reached that place, to be welcomed with something hard and firm, I instead found nothing.

“Uh…” For the first time in a long time, I found myself truly flabbergasted. No words or thoughts as to what to say. A real blow to the ego. “I—”

“I’m sorry,” he shot, jolting upward. “Forgive me; I need to run to the restroom really quickly.”

He left no time for giving a rebuttal as he darted off. Not that I wanted to provide one. I mean, my hand was still clenching air, reeling about the sensation of touch that should have been. Questions swirling. Did he find me attractive or not? Did he not kiss me?

Curiosity is far more seductive than any bottle. The way it pulls you to ask questions. To think more than you should. To investigate what you shouldn’t.

Easing down the hall, I found the door cracked open, and Bob muttering to himself as if having a full-on conversation. As I crept closer, I could see his reflection in the mirror. His shirt off, and his pants down to his knees.

It wasn’t a matter of size or a lack of sex drive that left my hand cruising past the pot of gold that was to be at the end of the rainbow. No, it was something different. Or rather, nothing for that matter. The man was utterly barren. And I mean buttery smooth without a single sign of hair near the pelvic region either.

Like a mannequin you find in a store should their pants be off.

Shocked, I retreated, turning on my ankle to take my leave. Something wasn’t right. I could feel it now. A strangeness creeping into my bones.

As I rounded the corner to grab my coat, I felt my foot get caught on the shabby rug. A creak within the floorboard eased loudly. When I looked over my shoulder, I noticed pictures I had not noticed before. A woman with two children, and a man around her arm. I recognized only one face.

Cherly.

“Jessie...”

From behind me, I could see the door to the bathroom, where no one stood. A looming sudden chill running up my spine as the sound of quick scuttling came from the kitchen.

Picking my feet up, I ran to the door without a second thought. I seized the doorknob, but a hand clamped my shoulder.

Startled, I threw a fist. Of course, it just had to be caught and held before me. And with such strength that it felt as if someone had taken control of my body and given it one command. “To be still.”

Bob stood there. With his head cocked to the side, his gaze was ever distant.

“Let me go,” I said. Breathing had become hard. A tightness around my chest that wasn’t there moments ago. “I said, Let me go, or I will scream.”

He heaved a sigh. The one that usually would come from a disapproving parent. With some reservations, he released me, only to look me in the eye. “You weren’t supposed to find out this way. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?!”

His hair then fell out. The strands simply pulled away as if to dissolve rather than fall off like a singular piece would if it were a toupee or wig. Bob then pried his hand into his chest, making the skin peel back in folds like a worn hoodie being taken off his shoulders. Pure white sockets turned black, with no life behind them. No ears, no nose, just sockets and slits. A strange pattern distinguished what appeared to be his cheekbones.

I felt my heart race, my breath short. That’s when the sweet lullaby of silence fell over me and welcomed me to the void. A perfect place for the sound of mistakes to ring like a bell’s chime right before it holds you in its tight embrace.