Winter Dreams Read online

  “Like I said, bought it. Nice lady handed me a bit of cash, so I figured we could spread the wealth. It’s Christmas, right?” He handed her a bag of groceries and two more of the cheap sweaters he had bought for $3 a-piece. “Do me a favor? Walk your area and hand out this stuff?” He trusted Sally wouldn’t hoard it all.

  “Nice lady, huh? She managed to look through all that scruff and see Mr. Handsome under all that?” Sally had bugged him often enough that she could see the real-him under all the grime.

  Huffing at the old joke, Drake shook his head. “Nah. Got yelled at by some random guy. She took pity. Just being nice.”

  Sally gripped his shoulder. “You should come with me. I mean, I can’t take credit for this. Rita didn’t eat last night, again. Pretty sure this might save her life.”

  Drake shook his head again. “Got a lot to pass out. Credit doesn’t matter out here. When you’re being shelled, what does it matter who dragged you into the fox-hole, right?”

  Sally sighed, getting the reference only from having seen a few movies in her distant past. She had guessed Drake had been in the military, though not much more about it than that. That was on purpose. Drake never talked about it. No reason to. It just brought back memories. She shrugged, “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

  Drake nodded firmly. “I do. You know who’s around here better than me. Give it to whoever is hardest hit by the cold.” He hugged her quick. “And you take care, alright? I’m gonna stop by on Christmas and you better be here.”

  Sally gestured at the garbage can. “Alberto’s always puts on a great spread!”

  They laughed together, then Drake tipped the cart back onto its rear wheels and rolled it away.

  He kept at it, venturing this way and that. He kept a third of what he had bought for his own turf. Never hurt to spread a bit of good will to those who you shared and sometimes fought with. ‘Tis the season for olive branches, right?

  By the end, he’d raised enough smiles and grudging nods of respect from the older codgers that Drake was feeling pretty good. The nice woman would never know how far he had stretched her money. But that one act of kindness might have changed the season for a whole block’s worth of people. Not a bad day’s work.

  He spent a couple more minutes hunting down Larry and giving him the cart to rip apart, then decided he’d had enough walking about for one day. It was nearing sunset fast, and he wanted to have a fire going tonight.

  Shuffling through the break in a certain chain link fence, Drake tugged the steel links back against the post. Once camouflaged, you’d have to know it was broken or you wouldn’t know you could get through without scaling the eight-foot partition.

  The alley led to a T-junction, after which both branches went no-where except to some back doors to buildings that never used these emergency escapes. Foot-traffic through here was pretty much zero except for him and the occasional kid sneaking out from the apartment building for a night-out without the parents knowing. It was narrow, which did a wonderful job of keeping the wind and snoopers out.

  He turned the right corner, then climbed the fire-escape to the second floor. The wall into the apartment there was broken open; that was partly his doing over the course of the last year. Most of the apartment was a burned-out mess that no-one had the money to fix. Walking on the floor might send you falling into whatever lay underneath it. He had ventured inside one day, and he knew there was police tape across the outer door, marking it as a crime scene for arson.

  But no-one ever showed up to fix it. It was one of those random anomalies that had fallen through the cracks of the world. Fortunately, the tiny bedroom closest to the fire escape had barely been damaged in the fire. So, while the apartment was mostly unlivable, Drake was able to cling to the outer edge as a make-shift cave nestled in the heart of the small city’s downtown core.

  He had used some of the loose brick to build up a makeshift fire-pit, not wanting to kick off another round of arson-damage to finish the place off. He pulled out the paper he had scrounged over the course of the day, then added a couple fragments of wood from his stockpile.

  Squirting a little butane from a lighter to get the whole mess going, he soon had a fire large enough to coax the chill from his hands and feet. He pulled out a beaten-up steel pot, splashed some water from his canteen (one of the few things he had never returned when he left the service) and added a few random vegetables and a couple morsels of the turkey Sally had given him before leaving. It was shaping up to be a fairly respectable stew. Or soup. Or whatever a cook would technically classify it to be. Didn’t really matter. It would fill his stomach past empty.

  Once he had scarfed down enough chow to beat back the hunger demons for a little while, he settled into the huddle of blankets, insulation, couch stuffing, and padded bits of foam and fabric he had found to build up what passed for a bed. He spent a couple minutes combing through it, making sure nothing with sharp teeth or too many legs had taken up residence. Hunkering down, he did his best to ward out the cold. The fire would eventually burn down into nothing, and he didn’t want to wake up freezing.

  Once settled, he slipped a hand into his deepest pocket and pulled out a weathered photograph from a long-time ago. The quality wasn’t all that good; he had printed it off his home computer onto normal paper, instead of anything glossy like with normal studio prints. He had done it on a whim; he never suspected it would have to last this long.

  A familiar, brilliant smile greeted him. Warmth filled his heart as he took in the glowing face of his one-time fiancé. She was dressed in such a ridiculous way: a white body-suit covered her from neck to toe, but the tight material didn’t hide anything at all. Over it, she wore what would have been a bikini had she been naked. The cups over her breasts were two large heart shapes, while the thong portion over her sex was also a wide heart that dipped into the ‘v’ between her legs. On her head, nestled in her curly brown hair, was a head band that had two more hearts on springs attached, like two alien antennae bouncing above her head.

  The picture had been taken on Valentine’s day. Grace was smiling in the photo, mostly because she had smiled pretty much all the time, but there was a mild regret and embarrassment lingering behind that smile. She was wearing the outfit because she lost a bet. Drake loved the combination of sexy-yet-shyly-and-ashamed attitude she was showing off in the photo. Yes, she looked ridiculous, but also hot, and also totally cool to have paid up her end of the bargain.

  Drake unfolded the other half of the photo. He spent most of his time remembering Grace, but he couldn’t bring himself to tear away the other half of the photo.

  In the other half, Elizabeth… Beth to her friends… and Grace’s BFF who had (as usual) won the bet… was standing nearby, pointing and laughing. The spirited red-head usually came out ahead in the friendly wagers the two played. Grace never seemed to learn, getting in way over her head for the sake of fun, and almost seemed to enjoy paying out in the form of these ridiculous stunts Elizabeth cooked up for her.

  Drake settled deeper into his makeshift bed, eyes fixed on the scene even as the ambient light faded. He fixated on the undeniable beauty. It was a bad idea. His thoughts always went back to ‘that night’, maybe the best night of his life.

  And that always led him to dreams of what followed. Which always sucked.

  It didn’t matter that he knew the pattern. He couldn’t help himself.

  He focused on the picture until the light faded and sleep began to claim him. Memories turned into dreams…

  * * *

  Grace’s soprano voice called up from the basement, “Hey Hon, can you grab us a couple beers while you’re up there?”

  Beth added, “Hurry up! Come watch the newly crowned Miss Idaho kick her ass at pool!”

  Drake had already been rustling around inside the fridge, pulling out a Holton’s. Adding two more bottles in his grip, he called back, “Wait for the referee! I don’t want any complaining about unfair play when it comes time to s
ettle.” He chuckled lowly, shaking his head. He had no idea why Grace kept getting herself into this sort of thing.

  He used the edge of the counter to pop off the three lids, grabbed the bowl of chips he had prepped, somehow balanced that with the other bowl of celery sticks, carrots and cucumbers they would eat to prove they were trying to stay healthy, then miraculously added the bowl of veggie/chip dip to the top.

  In a feat of dexterity for the history books, Drake managed to get all of that down the stairs and tumbled it onto the side-table of the recreation room. The house wasn’t all that big, but the girls lived light. The entire basement was taken up by laundry machines and the pool table and that was pretty much it. It was a rental, so it wasn’t like they were going to do any renovations to turn the bare-bones basement into anything nicer. He sank down, half-sitting and half-leaning on one of the bar-stool style chairs.

  Grace swayed over and leaned in to plant a warm kiss on his mouth. It lingered a tad longer than proper. They already had had a couple beer each. The shared kiss wasn’t exactly sober. Drake’s hands roamed over her back, under her light blue dress, then squeezed her pert, round behind under the fluff of her skirt.

  Beth was racking the balls on the table. “Knock it off you two!”

  Drake came up for air, then cuddled Grace into his arms. He mocked her friend while they hugged. “What are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be out at some sort of after-party? Getting all sorts of glory, oh great Miss Idaho?”

  Beth stuck her tongue out at him. She was wearing a fake crown and a very real sash that proclaimed her ‘Miss Idaho’. She was tall, lean, and with the fresh face and physique that might make her a contender in a beauty pageant. But she wasn’t. She had bought the sash at an estate sale from a real winner. She had been wearing it ever since in private, lording it over them and demanding the ‘proper respect’. She was wearing a short green dress that was painted on, further pushing the idea. “I have decided to retain my common touch and hang with the riff-raff this evening.”

  Grace pulled away, dipped one of the chips, then washed it down with a small swig of the newly arrived, still-chilly beer. She retrieved one of the pool sticks and said, “Well, I’m not going to give you any mercy, ‘Your Majesty’. No mercy at all!”

  Beth rolled her eyes, “Oh please! You aren’t around here enough to keep your skills up, Miss-Happily-Engaged. If David wouldn’t keep you over at his place all the time, maybe you could keep up. But I know the truth. You’re getting sloppy.”

  Drake (still going by David at that point in his life) reached out and swept Grace back into his arms. “That wouldn’t be acceptable at all.” He nuzzled into her neck, kissing everywhere, venturing down toward the enticing cleavage visible past the neckline of her dress.

  His fiancé gave him a playful swat, “Not now, you beast!” Then, flashed him a smile. “Later!” She strutted back to the table. “Besides, this table is half mine. What makes you think you’ve gotten that much better than me?”

  Beth chalked the end of her pool cue. “Hours more practice while I’m wasting away here lonely.”

  “Go out and find someone!”

  Beth snorted. “After working 80 hours a week, the last thing I want to do is anything except this.” She bent over the table at the far end up from the racked balls, lined up on the white ball, and readied herself to break.

  Then, she stood up. “… unless, you’re willing to put your money where your mouth is?”

  Drake groaned inside. Don’t do it, Grace. Don’t do it! She’s sharking you…

  Never able to back down, Grace ventured boldly, “Bah, money is boring.”

  “What?”

  Grace flushed a little, then took another long swig of beer. The liquid courage helped, and she said, “Whoever loses eats the other one out.”

  Drake nearly spit out the beer he had just drank.

  Beth’s mouth hung open, then she giggled, “Grace! We haven’t done that since… I don’t know, Sophomore year?”

  Drake’s mouth couldn’t quite close. The things you don’t know about a person…

  Beth saw his expression. And while she gave him a mocking smile, she said with a little real concern, “Not to mention, well, what about him?”

  Grace turned and leaned into Drake’s arms again. “Please, Hon? You do it so well, but I really want Beth’s mouth on me again. Would you mind?”

  Words weren’t coming to him right then. “Ahh, well…”

  Beth smirked. “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m going to crush you. You should really be asking him if he’s alright seeing you eat me out!” Her eyes flickered up and down the couple pressed against each other, leaning into the bar-stool chair. She moistened her lips, liking what she was seeing. “What if we said that either way it goes, the official referee gets to watch?”

  Drake gawked, “What, right here on the pool table?”

  Grace’s smile was lush, “If that’s what you want, sure!” She turned in his arms, and pointed at Beth. “You heard him. Your mouth is mine!”

  Beth smirked again. “You have to beat me first.” She bent over again, lined up, and drove hard with a practiced stroke. The white ball smashed into the rest, scattering them over the velvet. The bounced energetically, and two solids went down. The white ball lined up decently for another shot at the “6” ball.

  Grace paled. “Uh oh.”

  Drake hung his head, laughing. She just never learns. I love her, but damn, she needs to think these things through.

  Beth strutted around the table, “Bit off more than you can chew? That’s alright. I’ll put those lips of yours to good use soon enough.” Swirling around, she leaned over to line up on the obvious shot that would claim her a significant lead in their ‘8-ball’ game. Her flirtatious smile suggested she knew she was pointing the swell of her behind barely contained in her tight green dress right at the pair.

  Deciding she wasn’t going to lose without a fight, Grace snuck out of Drake’s arms and took hold of that green dress skirt. She slipped it upward over Beth’s hips, revealing the rounded flesh of her ass highlighted by her equally green thong underwear beneath.

  Beth squeaked, the tip of her cue nudging the white ball and sending it listlessly off to one side. “Hey!” She blazed a ‘how dare you’ look at Grace, then pleaded, “Judge!”

  Drake decided the fun of the moment was worth more than perfect fairness. “I’ll allow it.”

  This time, Beth fixed him with a scorching look, then tongued her cheek. “So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” She moved her hands up to tug her dress back down.

  Drake pressed his luck, wondering how playful Beth was feeling. He held up a finger to stop her. “Ah ah ah. Like they say in golf, play it how it lies.”

  Realizing he was getting into the sexy game lying underneath the pool game, Beth arched an eyebrow and smirked at him. She let go of the hem and left her skirt rolled up around her waist.

  Meanwhile, Grace waltzed over and selected her shot. She took a bead on the ‘5’, which would let her steal away the two-ball advantage that had been set up by Beth’s break.

  Flashing a saucy look at Drake, as if blaming him for what was about to happen, she swayed over behind Grace and draped herself along her friend’s back. Her breasts pressed in just below Grace’s shoulders, and her pelvis cupped Drake’s fiancé’s firm buttocks. Bracing herself with one hand on the edge of the pool table, Beth reached down and stroked Grace’s right thigh, pulling the flirty skirt up and away to reveal higher and more intimate skin. “Mmm, such sexy legs. Too bad mine will be the ones spreading for your mouth.”

  Grace scowled, trying to concentrate. “Judge!”

  Drake leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms and willing his erection not to explode right through his jeans. “Oh, I’ll allow it.”

  Seeing she wasn’t going to get any favoritism after-all, Grace struggled to keep her focus. She was just about to shoot…

  …when Beth leaned in and s
uckled her earlobe into her mouth.

  Grace gasped. Her cue bobbled as it tapped the white ball. Once again, the white orb wobbled weirdly across the table without really helping anyone.

  Drake whistled, “Oh, she likes that.”

  Beth grinned over at him, withdrawing from her position over her. “Oh, I know.”

  Drake began to wonder how close these two really were.

  Beth walked around the table, her sharp eyes analyzing the new lay of the table, deciding on a new angle of attack.

  Grace went the other way, stopping near a couple of storage boxes for a hidden reason, then paced around toward Beth.

  Beth eyed her, wondering what she could be up to. But it was her turn, and there was no denying the need to bend over to make her shot. She thought Grace was far enough away to be safe, so she went into her position.

  Grace slipped in at the right moment, when Beth’s concentration hit maximum. The scissors she had swiped from the box snaked out and cut away her thong panties with a naughty little snip!

  The timing ensured the cold steel of the scissors brushed along Beth’s skin at the same moment as her short. She gave a soft cry of surprise as the snip! cut the strap. Once again, it was a miss, though it caused a few more balls to skip about the table. Beth spun around, realizing she was now naked from the waist down. “Grace!”

  Her friend sauntered away, twirling the sliced underwear idly. “You can’t seem to focus tonight.”

  Beth gestured at her, “Judge!”

  “Hmm.” Drake pretended to consider it, and how to kick things to a different level. How far can I push this along? Taking a drink as if thinking, he said definitively, “I’ll allow it.”

  “But –”

  Drake cut off Beth’s protest, “– but it is way too big an advantage. You need to be playing in equal attire. Equal constraints. Fair play and all that.” He pointed at Grace, then crooked his finger to summon her. “You. Over here. Right now.”