Made For You, page 4
“Wilson.” I hear her whisper-shout and he comes into the room. “Can we buy a boat?”
“Oh, here we go,” he says, coming to look in the phone. “How are you doing? Are you seasick yet?”
“Not even a bit. You need to buy a boat,” I state to him. “And kick the guy next to me out. He’s such a grumpy little shit.” I look at them and Franny’s eyes go big as she listens to me bitch about the guy next to me. “The only good thing about him is…”
“Is his dick?” Franny fills in for me and Wilson just gives her a side look. “What? I don’t know if she picked him up and made him happy. Who knows, she might turn that frown upside down?” She laughs. “Look at how I turned you. You barely smiled before and now you beam with sunshine.” She shrugs. “You’re welcome.” She turns to look back at me. “Please continue.”
“It is not his dick,” I inform both of them. “He has the sweetest dog.” I put my hand on my chest. “I don’t even know his fucking name,” I tell her, taking another drink of wine and neither of them interrupt me. “I introduced myself and what did he say?” I ask them and they both look at me. “He nodded!” I say, frustrated. “Who doesn’t give the other person a name?”
“Maybe he’s wanted by the mob,” Wilson suggests and Franny just looks over at him.
“You need to stop hanging around with the men in my family,” she huffs.
“Maybe he’s on the run because he killed his family and drove across country with his wife’s head on top of his—” He opens his mouth and she puts her hand over it.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Franny asks. “You really need to lay off those crime podcasts.”
“You are both literally insane,” I inform them. “He doesn’t look like a killer. Nor does he look like he’s running away from the mob.”
“How the hell would you know?” they both say at the same time.
“I don’t know, but I’m assuming if he is one of those things, would he be on a boat?” I look from Franny too Wilson.
“Of course he would,” Wilson snaps out as he slaps the table. “No one is going to find you.” He smirks at me. “Have you told your father yet?”
“No,” I retort, “there is no need to tell him anything.” I point my finger to the screen. “I swear to God, if either of you tell him even one word.” I glare. “I will cut you.”
“And you wonder why he’s not talking to you.” Franny laughs. “Seriously though, Vi, are you really staying on that boat?”
“Yes,” I tell them both. “Why wouldn’t I stay on my boat?”
“Well, for one, you have a serial killer who is wanted by the mob living next to you,” Wilson says. “And—and”—his voice starts to rise a bit—“if your father finds that out…poof.” He puts his hands to his head and pretends his head explodes.
“My father is not going to find out anything,” I assure him. “Because, well, one, he’s not a serial killer but maybe he’s wanted by the mob.” I put my hand on my lips. “Or maybe Snow White has lost one of her men and he lives next door to me.” I look at Franny, who tries to roll her lips to stop from laughing. “Did I tell you he got pissed off that I bought him an apple pie?” Franny gasps. “I know!” I shriek. “Who doesn’t love apple pie?”
“I’m more of a blueberry kind of guy myself,” Wilson says.
I glare at him. “No one asked you,” I hiss between clenched teeth. “Now I’m going to take a nice hot shower and then…”
“You are going to lock the doors, and do you have a stick?” Wilson asks me and I just look at him, confused. “You put it behind the bottom of the sliding door. It makes it impossible to slide open.” He folds his arms over his chest as if he just told me the biggest secret. “What?” he asks me, and Franny laughs. “You know that trick.”
“We learned that when we were five.” I hold up my hand. “It was part of the summer fun program we took about being safe.” Wilson laughs now. “Anyway, I’ll be fine.”
“Do you even have an alarm?” Franny asks me and I shake my head.
“No, but you can’t get in here unless you have a key for the gate,” I reassure her, “so it’s safe.”
“Yeah, and no one can climb a gate,” Wilson says, rolling his eyes.
“Goodbye.” I press the red button and disconnect them. I get up off the bed and walk toward the sliding door. I make sure to lock it, looking outside one more time, the smile still stuck on my face.
I avoid looking at the boat next to me. Instead, I check and make sure the door is closed before bringing the shades together. I walk to my bedroom, starting the shower before undressing. Once I finish the shower, I slip on blue-and-white pj bottoms with the matching long-sleeved shirt. I make my way back to the kitchen where I eat apple pie straight from the box. I grab a bottle of water, walking back to my bedroom and slipping into bed. I check my phone and see that sunrise is at five ten. I set my alarm for four forty-five. Putting the phone under the pillow beside me, I grab the remote and turn on the little TV that is on the right side of the bed.
I don’t even know what I put on, all I do is put my head down, and in a matter of minutes I’m asleep. I sleep like a baby, only waking when the soft alarm fills the room. With my eyes still closed, I reach under the pillow where I know the phone is. I take it out and shut off the alarm, turning onto my back. The television is still playing when I open my eyes. I look out the window, seeing it’s still dark outside. I flip the covers off me, walking to the kitchen to start my coffee before going back to my room and the bathroom. “I’m definitely going to have to nap today,” I mumble to myself as I grab my phone.
I add some milk to the cup of coffee before walking to the door and opening the shades then sliding the door open. I step outside at the same time as Mr. Grumpy next door. I raise my head and our eyes meet. He is wearing joggers with a sweater, the baseball cap on his head again. “Morning,” I mumble and want to kick myself for even acknowledging him. I don’t wait for him to answer me before walking up the steps to the upper deck. I unzip the door and step in, grabbing the throw blanket I bought for up here. I walk over to the little door in the middle of the wall and open it, walking down the four steps, leading me to the two sun pads on each side of the window that is in my bedroom. I sit down in the middle of one of the sun pads and cross my legs. The breeze on the water makes it cooler than it is. Putting my coffee and my phone down in front of me, I wrap the blanket around my shoulders. I get up and put up the sun pad so I can sit with my back on it. When I finally have everything done, I sit down, grabbing my coffee and taking a sip. “Magical,” I say as I hear the water hitting the boats. I look at the bridge in the distance. The dock is so quiet at this time of the morning, and when I look over to the right side, I notice a clock tower. “That is so pretty.” I take my phone and snap a picture.
I sit here enjoying my coffee as the sky goes from a black to a blue/orange tint. The reflection on the water is even prettier than I imagined it. I snap another picture of it as I watch it then turn the sky almost a pink as the sun starts to lift higher into the sky. Finally turning the sky a gorgeous blue. “Sunrise number one complete,” I murmur to myself as I pull up the text thread that the girls and I use. It’s called Fam Jam Girls. The guys got so jealous of our chat that we had to make one with the guys, but it’s called Fam Jam with Dicks.
I put the picture in the text with the message.
Vivienne:
Good morning from the boat.
I smile and start to get up, taking one more look at the sky before turning around. I take a step to the middle walkway and notice the front of my boat is really close to Mr. Grumpy’s. I look back to the other side and see I have moved way over. I walk over to the side and look down at the dock and see the line in the front is off and so is the middle one. “Oh my God,” I say, as I reach for the line and pull it up, the line coming out of the water. I wait to have it in my hand before I throw it on the dock. It lands there with a thud and then slowly, like a snail, falls back into the water. “What the fuck?” I say, looking over my shoulder and seeing that any second, I’m going to be kissing his boat and then it’ll be even worse.
I scramble to get the rope up again, and this time, I turn it into a circle like when you see cowboys herding their cattle. I toss it on the dock and it lands. I hold my breath to see if it’s going to slip again. I wait a whole two seconds, maybe even less, before I run up the stairs and then down the stairs, jumping off the boat and onto the dock. I run down the side of the dock, grabbing the wet rope and pulling the boat back to its side. I’m huffing out at this point, and my shirt and pants are wet from the rope. I look down at the silver T thing as I start to wrap the rope around it, and then try to knot it together. I stand, looking down at the rope and see it becomes untied again. “Motherfucker,” I swear to myself as I grab my phone. “YouTube is going to have the answer,” I say as I pull out the phone and open Safari. I’m about to type in how to secure a boat when I hear him from the side.
I inwardly cringe when he asks me, “What the hell are you doing?”
CHAPTER 6
XAVIER
I open the gate and wait for Beatrice to walk in ahead of me. “Don’t forget what I said,” I remind her as we walk down the ramp. “Rule number two, don’t go to the neighbor.” She looks up at me. “It’s the same as rule number one, don’t talk to strangers.” We walk down the dock. Empty cup of coffee in my hand, the pit of my stomach is now starting to burn again as I get closer to my boat.
This morning, when I walked out on my deck, the last thing I expected was to see her walking out also. I inwardly cringed and then looked at Beatrice. “Don’t even think about it,” I mumbled to her while I watched Vivienne walk up her steps. “What the hell is she doing up so early?” I asked myself while I walked off my boat. My eyes were going to the sliding back door, waiting for her significant other to come out. There wasn’t even a light on in the boat. It was pitch black. I shook my head and walked away thinking, who would let their person be outside in the dark, alone? I tried not to think of it the whole time during the walk and I only brought it up once to Beatrice.
I even tried and forget the way I resisted the apple pie. Until I just said fuck it and cut a piece of it. I was already committed to hating it, just because. But the minute I put a piece in my mouth, I moaned out loud. It was so fucking good I ended up eating three pieces, which then made me even more pissed at myself for liking it. It made me pissy the whole night, and then when I woke up and went to make coffee, I literally had a piece of pie in the kitchen in my boxers. I figured if I finished the whole thing, I could get it out of the galley and be done with it.
I’m getting closer to her boat and I am about to walk past it when I see her on the side of the dock. Her phone is in her hand as she starts to type something. “What the hell are you doing?” comes out even before I can tell myself to mind my own business.
She looks over at me and I can tell from the look in her eye that something is wrong. “I don’t know what happened, but it got untied,” she states absentmindedly as she looks down at her phone.
“So, then, tie it,” I say to her and she looks over at me. I always heard the saying if looks could kill, and I’m sure I’ve even been on the receiving end of them, but never has it been clearer than right here, right now.
“What the hell do you think I’m trying to do?” She glares at me.
“I have no idea what you are trying to do.” I put my hands on my hips, looking at her and then back to the boat that starts to sway closer to mine.
“This.” She points down to the rope at her feet. “Got loose,” she says and even I can tell by her tone that she’s nervous. I walk closer to her, seeing she literally just wrapped the line around the silver cleat. “It was like almost kissing your boat.” She looks over to me, like a deer caught in headlights. “It didn’t touch your boat, I caught it in time, but now I have to make sure it stays secure.”
“What do you mean, it untied itself?” I ask her and maybe that shouldn’t have been what I asked her.
“Would you get off my dick for a second and let me handle this,” she huffs, looking back down at her phone, “I’m going to just YouTube how to tie a boat together and it’ll be fine.” Her hands shake as she starts to listen to the video.
Oh. My. God. “Are you saying that you don’t know how to tie up your boat?” I ask her, not sure I actually heard the words coming out of her mouth. I am too stunned by a couple of things. One, her beside her boat, two, her telling me to get off her dick, and three, her saying her boat almost touched mine.
“What I’m saying is if you give me a second”—she holds up her hand—“I will fix this.”
“So you know how to tie your boat?” I question her, folding my arms in front of me.
“No,” she answers, “but again, in a minute I will.”
I open my mouth to say something but instead I look at her. “Move,” I urge her as I step beside her and she actually moves over. “Come here, and I’ll teach you.” She squats down next to me. “So this is your cleat,” I inform her of the silver T.
“Is that its official name?” she asks me with a serious tone.
“It’s called a cleat.” I nod at her. “The first thing you have to do,” I instruct, unlooping the rope from the cleat, “is have your rope at an angle to the cleat.” I show her. “Passing it under the far side of the cleat, and then wrapping it around your hand to do a circle.” I show her the loop I just made. “Tying it to the other side of the cleat.” I put the loop around the cleat and pull it closed. “And then repeat it on the back side.” I do another loop and then tie it to the other side. “And that’s it,” I say to her and she looks at me.
“But is it sturdy enough?” she asks me and I nod at her.
“If it makes you feel better, you can do as many loops as you want,” I tell her, undoing the loops now and letting the rope loose.
“What are you doing?” she asks me, shocked as she sees her boat untied again.
“I was showing you how to do it. Now it’s your turn.” I hand her the rope and she just looks at me. “I’m right here if you fuck up.”
“Well, that’s very encouraging,” she mumbles, and it makes me want to laugh out loud but instead I just watch her hands. “Pull,” she talks to herself. “Angle.” She repeats what I did. “Loop de loop.” She makes up her own words. “And stick it in the hole,” she says as she puts the loop around the cleat, “and repeat.” She then looks at me. “I’m going to do three for good measure,” she tells me and does another loop. “And boom.” She does the “throw down the mic” action.
“What boat did you have before this?” I ask her as I rise up. She stands up beside me, looking down at her handiwork.
“Um,” she says, “this is boat number one.” She holds up one finger.
“You didn’t have a boat before this?” My eyebrows pinch together.
“That would be correct.” She takes a deep breath. “I don’t think these ropes are going to move.” She ignores the shock that is all over my face and walks past me to the middle cleat. “I’m going to tie this one.”
“You don’t need to,” I inform her, but of course she ignores me and does what she wants to do. “But of course, do what you want,” I mumble.
“Thanks, Mr. G,” she says to me and I just stare at her.
“Mr. G?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.
“I call you Mr. Grumpy,” she admits to me without an ounce of embarrassment. “But I figured it was rude, so I shortened it.”
“Good call.” I shake my head, walking past her toward the back of her boat. I look over and see Beatrice lying on the back of my boat. “You bought this boat?” I stop and look over at her.
“That I did.” She smiles as she walks over to me. I see that her toenails are painted a bright red.
“Do you know how to drive it?” I ask her, even though it’s none of my business.
“I have a license.” She cocks her head and glares at me. I just raise my eyebrows. “I have a captain coming to show me the ins and outs of the boat,” she informs me, “so eventually I’ll know how to drive it.” She walks past me and gets on her boat. “The boat seems more secure,” she says to me. “Now I have to go have a piece of pie.” She smiles at me.
She walks to the sliding door and opens it, and before she steps into it, I speak up. “Xavier,” I say, walking over to my boat with her looking at me, “instead of Mr. Grumpy.” I get on my boat and Beatrice comes off the bench. I look over at her. “Or Mr. G.” I walk over to the door, opening it, and stepping in, leaving her just staring at me.
I step into the cabin and look at Beatrice. “Now what did I do wrong?” I ask her as I walk over to her bowl picking it up. “I can tell you. I did rule number one and rule number two completely wrong, and I even messed up rule number three.” I put food in the bowl and then place it in front of her. “It wasn’t my problem and I didn’t have to fix it.” I stand. “But in my defense, I did it more for me than her.” Beatrice ignores me and my struggles. “She could have hit my boat,” I huff to her, walking over to the fridge. “You think she’s alone on that boat?” I look out the window at her boat and the shades are closed, so I can’t see anything. “Jesus, I’m a Peeping fucking Tom.” I shake my head.
Beatrice looks up once she finishes eating. “You want a cookie?” I ask her and she wags her tail. “This is from the lady next door.” I open the drawer and take a cookie out, holding it to her. “Sit,” I instruct her and she sits, but her tail still wags and makes knocking noises. “We don’t like her,” I remind her. “Right?” I ask her and she just gently takes the cookie from my hand. “She called me grumpy?” I put my hands on my hips. “Me, grumpy,” I huff, looking at Beatrice.
I can’t even put into words how I feel right now. I’m like a full-blown ball of emotions. I’m angry but then irritated and that is making me angry. I think about the words my therapist said: talk it out, put pros and cons to everything. “Could I have been nicer to her?” I say, walking back and taking another bite of the pie. “Sure, I guess.”
