Page 130 of Deserter

“I seem to recall another prick tryin’ to convince Phantom that he needed the apartment above the shop not that long ago.” I laughed at the memory, suddenly wondering where the time had gone.

When had we gotten old enough to have teenagers?

Mikey was going to graduate next year. For all the fucked up shit his mother had pulled, at least she’d abided by our agreement and kept him away from Comedian.

I just wished like hell she would’ve stuck with it the first time. Kid’s whole life could’ve been different.

“You gonna take a stroll down memory lane or wash the grime off?” Slim asked. “Lou’ll have your ass if you even think about touching her furniture looking like you do right now.”

“I’m going,” I grumbled before turning back. “Hey, Slim? When the fuck did we get old?”

He shrugged. “Beats the hell out of me. Maybe when I threw out my shoulder pitchin’ the ball to David; or hell, maybe it was official when I began waking up with random joint pain.”

I grinned. “Well, well. I don’t have any of that shit goin’ on. I must not be old after all, Slim. Thanks.”

“Yeah, fuck you,” he called as I closed the bathroom door behind me.

I turned the taps on full blast and scrubbed the road from my skin. Hot water rained down on me from the shower head and I stood under it until the heat seeped into my bones, bringing my body temperature back up.

I felt almost human again as I slipped into a pair of fresh clothes until I caught my reflection in the mirror over the sink. The dark circles under my eyes hadn’t faded, if anything, they were more noticeable without layers of dirt there to cover them.

Low voices carried from the kitchen and I slipped out of the bathroom, straining to hear what was being said.

“Fuck, Lou,” Slim growled. “What is it about those church gatherings that gets you all hot and bothered?”

He stood near the sink with his back to me and Lou propped up on the counter in front of him. Her eyes were closed, and the back of her head rested against the upper cabinets.

“John,” she whispered with a small grin as his head dipped down. “Don’t torture me.”

I was intruding, but damn if I made any attempt to give them privacy. Seeing the two of them took me back to when we were teens, when my only concerns were avoiding my old man and finding my next high.

It was also a stark reminder of the woman I’d left behind.

Having kids hadn’t decreased our sex life—if anything, it had made it more interesting. I’d lived for the moments when our girls were in bed and Celia was doing her damndest to keep quiet.

I’d always taken it as a challenge; sneaking around the house, creatively searching for new ways to make her moan.

When Slim’s head disappeared under Lou’s blouse, I cleared my throat to make my presence known. He immediately jerked back and straightened her clothing.

“Aw, don’t stop on my account. It never seemed to bother you before.” I stepped around them and retrieved a glass from the cabinet.

“You know that was back when I was pregnant with David. Seems like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it?” Lou slipped off the counter and padded over to wrap her arms around my back. “How are Celia and the girls doin’?”

I took my time filling the glass from the tap before answering, “Good. Everyone’s doin’ good.”

The truth was, I didn’t know how they were doing.

Not really.

I’d had a bad feeling most of the ride down that had nothing to do with the weather. Celia always seemed to have it under control, but lately it seemed like she was keeping something from me.

“Good. They’re just good? That’s it?” she pushed.

Slim grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge. “Jesus, he says they’re okay, then they’re okay, yeah?”

“I guess. I just haven’t talked to her in a while.”

I put the glass in the sink and turned around. “You two ain’t been talking?”

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