Page 84 of Wild Card
He grumbles, but he doesn’t complain. And soon, a warm, rich-smelling soup is bubbling on the stove.
The three of us head outside, the sun heating the front porch head-on this time of day. It’s protected from the breeze, which makes it feel more like summer. Light sparkles on the water and that smell of pine trees that I love so much floats in the air.
I take a few deep breaths, chasing that scent and the feeling of solitude that I associate with it. Before long, the scent of marijuana masks the smell of pine.
I glance at Clyde, who is seated in the Adirondack chair right next to me with his signature cap pulled low to keep the sun off his face, Gwen just on the other side of him. He has a thinly rolled joint pressed to his lips at the tip and pinched between his thumb and forefinger in the middle. He sucks in deeply, and I watch his eyes flutter shut as the smoke billows from his nostrils.
He hands it to Gwen, and she follows suit, a puff of smoke spilling from her lips as she relaxes back into the chair. The way her back arches and the sound she makes is a straight shot to my dick. She’s sensual without even trying.
And sitting here has my brain flooding with memories of pressing her against that railing. My lips on hers. Her hands in my hair.
I wish I hadn’t stopped.
“You weren’t lying, Clyde. Maya was a talented woman,” Gwen announces while I try to will my boner away.
He chuckles. “That she was.”
Gwen holds the reefer out in my direction, and I reach across Clyde to take it from her. I turn it over in my hand, eyeing it with hesitation.
Truth be told, I’ve always been a straitlaced kind of guy, and I’m out of my element. Still, I watched the other two enough to mimic their motions.
I lift the joint and take a deep inhale.
Seconds later, I’m coughing, and they’re laughing. And not long after that, I’m laughing too.
Clyde sighs. “Maya would have gotten a real kick out of this, watching someone so tightly wound talk about his feelings and smoke her plant. It would have made her happy.”
“I live to serve,” I joke, taking another puff—this time without coughing.
“Hell, maybe after a few more hits, you’ll be out there sunning your?—”
“Clyde, don’t even go there. Maya sounds lovely, but there’s going to be no sunning of anything.”
“What about sunning your face?” Gwen suggests. “Just kick back and relax. You can absorb vitamin D through any part of your skin. And vitamin D is hugely beneficial for low mood and a stressed immune system.”
Clyde grumbles about absorption rates, and it makes me laugh. My shoulders shake with it.
I take another puff, and my body relaxes. In fact, muscles let go that haven’t softened in years.
And so goes the next hour. We share the small joint, and while Clyde stays covered, I slouch back in the sun, letting itsrays warm me from the outside in. I absorb my vitamin D appropriately.
Eyes fluttered shut, head swimming, body floating, I let myself enjoy the moment with two people who have become the most unexpected type of friends.
Eventually, our conversation turns to peppering Clyde with whether or not he believes certain conspiracy theories.
“Hey, Clyde, was Elvis Presley’s death faked?”
“Hey, Clyde, was the moon landing faked by the government?”
“Hey, Clyde, did they add fluoride to water sources just to make people sickly?”
“Hey, Clyde, is the earth flat or round?”
“Hey, Clyde, who built the pyramids, Egyptians or aliens?”
To that one he says, “Of course the Egyptians built the pyramids, but aliens commissioned them.”
Needless to say, the further along we go and the higher we get, the more we laugh.
