"Not now, honey," he said. He sighed, passed gas, and rolled onto his side.
Perfect Daniel XXX was a heavy sleeper.
Fine. I was going to clean out my closet anyway and Vic wanted to be part of the party, so I called him and told him he could have his way with a brunette with broad shoulders and limited common sense if he came over in the next half an hour.
"Just between us, it isn't that fitness model you keep promising me every year will show up in nothing but a g-string and a smile?" he asked.
"Definitely not. I heard he's too short for you and I don't know that he would make a good third for you and Chris. Unless you want to make him into a wishbone."
"Sounds like fun to me. Anything I can bring?" he asked.
"A couple of garbage bags, I guess," I said. "And remember to be gentle."
"Gentle with which one of you?"
"Exactly."
~~~
I sorted the laundry I'd accumulated thus far and ran a load of towels. Louie rolled in a mud puddle at the dog park and got an impromptu bath. He went through more towels each week than I did.
I boiled a kettle of water and made a cup of apple spice tea, pulled up a piece of junk mail and a pen and started to write. I listed virtually all of the staples I'd kept in the fridge and the pantry. It was the second time in less than four months I was going to have to replenish virtually everything.
I found the ice cube tray, refilled it and hoped that there would be ice before the afternoon was over. Vic almost always wanted iced coffee and I started keeping some instant on hand for him when he came to visit. Then again, there was now no milk and no cream. I opened the spice cupboard again and the instant coffee was gone, replaced with something very gourmet and tres expensive.
Before I could call Vic and tell him he'd need to provide his own beverage, he was at the backdoor.
"Sweet pea, is the man still asleep?" he asked.
"Probably. I haven't checked on him. I thought you might enjoy curling up with him in bed for a couple of minutes."
"Good idea, but Chris does have some limits. I can look but I can't touch. And I do so like to look." He sighed. "What do you really think of the gym. A lot to look at, no?"
"I guess. Sure." It wasn't like the guy ever made me tongue tied. And as for a lot to look at, that was true, there were a lot of guys to look at and none of them ever even noticed me. It made it easier to exercise, but it also made me feel like a fly on the wall. A couple of times when I was on one of the weight machines, someone tried to adjust the weight for himself. I am of the school of thought that slow and steady wins the race; I guess he was more along the rocket speed school. Ah well. He was making eyes at the Viking who was posing behind us. If I had to lose a Greek god, not bad to lose him to a Viking warrior. No competing with some of that. Helen of Troy I never will be.
Vic knew where the bedroom was and hadn't been shy ever going into it. When I was with Grady, we were never home at the same time and now it was just the dog.
He opened the tiny closet, tut tutted, and then clucked his tongue. "You'll never look your best with everything smooshed up together like this. The only thing that does well this close together is-"
"Yes, I know. I know. Don't say it."
"Not a problem, sweetie. I was just going to say sardines or olives at first pressing," he said. Vic leaned across the bed and kissed my temple. "I so wish you were a man. I know so many guys who'd be into you. Chris's partner's brother, Sam, you remember Sam, right?"
I nodded.
"Sam's got a friend who just ended a long term relationship and he's the nicest guy. You would do so well together. He is a little short for you though."
"Thanks. I think." I paused and said, "Nice is the kiss of death as far as his looks go, right?"
He shrugged.
"What's it matter to you. Darwin is only five foot six and you're what five eight, five nine?"
"Five seven."
"Same difference. In heels you'd tower over him."
"The fact I'm not a man is also a bit of a problem."
"True enough." He pulled out about a foot of clothes from the closet and nothing moved. He placed them on top of the bed and buried the dog in fabric.
The first thing he pulled out was a t-shirt that said, I know the voices in my head aren't real, but they have some good ideas. He looked at me shook his head and immediately put it in the garbage bag.
"Hey. I love that shirt. I do a lot of things in that shirt."
"Scare small children in the Walmart maybe. Wear it in public? Seriously? Please, Bernie."
"Fine."
He looked at and promptly deposited six more shirts in the bag. "You know Salvation Army probably will just put these into a landfill."
"But there's a lot of life left in them."
"Sure. But you don't need to keep them on life support. Don't you ever look in the mirror?"
Evidently not as often as I should. Looking at things with Vic's eyes and perspective was a little like having a younger, hunkier version of Tim Gunn in my bedroom. Except when Tim Gunn had his TV show, he got rid of everything except about three things and I don't have the disposable income to replace one hundred percent of the things in my closet.
"Why don't you just sit on the bed?" he asked, after he covered the only chair and the dresser in clothes. "Get comfy for a little while."
Just watching Vic was making me tired. The more tired I became, the happier and more energetic he got.
When the whole closet was empty he found my guiltiest secret. A wedding dress.
Fantastic.
~~~
tbc
word count 1103
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