"So, where do you live?" Hayley asked once she got a little more comfortable behind the wheel of the big SUV.
"Georgetown, by D.C.," Zooey replied.
That answer surprised her. "Is that anywhere near Crystal City in Virginia?" Hayley asked.
Zooey shrugged and nodded. "Jack said it was about a twenty-minute drive."
Hayley took that in for a minute. "So are you and Jack gonna keep seeing each other when we all go home?"
"I think so, yes."
"Wow," Hayley laughed, a little nervously, "what are the chances of two people meeting like that, on vacation, just to find out they live practically right next to each other. It's like something from a movie, or something."
-----
Surprised, shocked by the news, all Karen could manage was a stilted stammering. "Oh, god - of course - come in, come in - of course you can stay." She stepped back to allow him entrance into the house and Paul stepped in past her.
"Want a drink?" Karen asked, knowing the answer, while closing the door.
"Yes, definitely," Paul sighed as he absently surveyed the entrance landing. "Something strong. Definitely strong."
"Follow me," Karen said, brushing past him and into a room on the left. Paul trailed behind her. The room had a little bar in it, which Karen headed straight towards. "Scotch?" she asked.
"Yeah. Scotch'll be just fine."
"On the rocks?"
Paul shook his head. "No ice. Just neat."
Karen nodded her head and poured him three fingers of the caramel-colored spirit into a glass. She handed him the drink.
"Here," she said. "Why don't you go out back and sit, drink your drink, while I go change out of these scrubs. Then you can tell me what's going on. Sound like a plan?"
Paul looked at her. He couldn't tell her what really happened. Glancing sideways, he focused on the scotch bottle.
Karen noticed. "You can take the bottle with you, if you want."
Paul looked back at her and gave her one nod. "A plan."
Karen smiled with empathy. "Good. Now, go on. I'll be right out." She turned and went to exit the room, but paused at the door. "Bring a glass for me."
"Will do," Paul replied, bottle already in hand.
Ten minutes later, as Paul began on his third glass of scotch, Karen walked out on the deck and sat down across the table from Paul. She had changed into a navy blue polo and a pair of khaki colored shorts that came an inch or two down from the bottom of her curvy ass. The legs circled loosely around her thighs. The shirt clung snuggly over her full, spherical breasts. Paul had deduced quickly that she hadn't bothered with a bra, if not only that he could decipher the shape of her nipples under the dark fabric, he saw them jiggle with even the slightest movement she made. He slid an already poured glass across the table to her.
"Cheers," he said, sardonically, customarily raising his glass.
"Cheers," Karen replied, mirroring the glass raising.
They took their sips. Karen paused to let the burn of the alcohol subside. Then she looked straight across at Paul. "So, what's up?"
Paul was silent for about a minute. Karen waited patiently. Both sipped their alcohol. Then Paul said, "Irreconcilable differences. That's what we're calling it."
"Is that what it actually is?"
"Yeah. Pretty much."
Karen was quiet as she contemplated. "Does Stacy Marie know? Have you told her?"
Paul shook his head. "No, she doesn't know. But she won't be surprised."
At least that's a true statement
. "It's been a long time coming," he added before going silent again and emptying his glass. He poured himself another, his fourth, and topped off Karen's, her one and a half.
They were in a mutual quietness for a few minutes. Then Karen asked the
obligatory question when it came to a divorce, "There's no chance you can work it out?"
Paul snorted, amused by the absurdity of that question as it pertained to the events that pertained to the declaration of divorce from Deanna. "No," he answered, "not even a small one."
"I'm sorry, Paul."
Paul just stared out at the water in the pool, rippled by the breeze.
-----
"Hey," Sully called out as Stacy Marie came walking up the drive at the beachhouse. "Did you walk here?" He was standing at his car, a classic '60s era red Mustang, beautifully restored.
He just has that damn car cause he thinks it will get him a lot of ass. Probably does.
Sully was there beside an open drivers-side door while someone else was bent, rummaging around inside the car on the passenger side.
"Yeah," Stacy Marie replied, kissing him on the cheek when she made it up to him. "I'm having car issues."
The person inside the car popped up across from them. It was Nate. Smiling like the Cheshire Cat, who just ate Tweety Bird. "Stacy Marie," he said, grease dripping off every syllable in his tone.
Shit. Don't you fuckin' say anything. Not one fucking word about fast food, Burger King, anything. Don't you dare let Sully know what I let you do. I swear to God...
"You should have called me," Nate continued on, knowing he had the power of two secrets about her under his belt, and loving it. Not the least of which being that he had just seen her a half-hour ago, and fucked her, in the bathroom of a fast-food restaurant.
"Yeah," Stacy Marie replied to him, dryly. "I didn't think of that. I should have."
Asshole.
"What are you doing here?" Sully asked. "Thought you were coming over tonight?"
"Oh, I'll be here tonight," Stacy answered. "I just had some free time and thought I'd hang out with Ebb."
"Ebb?" Nate interjected, "who the hell is that?"