Bridget

BRIDGET

My name is Marcus Veovin. The story I want to tell is about an expedition into the unknown that I never could've seen coming. Had I even fathomed what was about to happen to me before I climbed into my old, black pickup and placed the keys in the ignition...well, perhaps I should just get to it instead of starting with a bunch of nonsensical vernacular.

I could go into a bunch of backstory about what brought me to this point in my life, but I'm sure everyone out there would just prefer to hear me cut right to the action. I think I'll entertain the latter because this tale is a legendary part of my life that I've been looking forward to telling for quite some time.

I was in my late thirties. At that time in my life, I was kind of all over the place without a home to call my own. Instead, I bounced around quite a bit since I had picked up a career in "journalism." I emphasize that because sometimes I felt more like a detective due to some of the assignments I accepted, and with my motley background of everything I had lived through in the last decade and a half, I was the perfect candidate to take some of the more "unsavory" jobs. But again, I don't want to get into the details of all that right now. I would rather get to the story involving the amazing brunette by the name of Bridget Harper.

Ah, Bridget. An incredible woman with an unbelievable body and an even more extraordinary personality. She was just one of the many women I have fallen for over the years and would do absolutely anything for if she needed me to. If you asked me to name the sweetest woman I had ever met, this remarkable brunette would certainly be ranked amongst the top five...hell, probably even the top three.

So now I'm getting ahead of myself. There is a little context needed in order to introduce the star of this story. As much as I would love to just jump to the action - and boy, there is certainly some action in this story - I should probably explain a little bit about the situation that led to this chance meeting.

Summer was drawing to a close and I was quite literally driving all across the continent in search of clues for a story I was engrossed in. I was on the road eighteen hours a day trying to dig up some dirt on a guy known only as "Nick." I'm not sure if that was his real name or an alias. Hell, for all I knew, that could have been a crude nickname, if you get my drift. Anyway, I was given the responsibility to unearth as much information as I could on this shady character and had the bare minimum to go on while doing so. All I knew for certain was that he had committed some fiendish atrocities...and that was about it. I was given no description, no location, and no real leads...and it goes without saying that the world is a pretty large place. I shouldn't have to say that I spent more time digging up any intelligence I could find on this guy for a longer period of time than most people spent in college. I'm sure I don't have to reiterate how much that sucked.

Thanks to my faithful old pickup, I traveled across the continent as I did everything in my power to dredge up any information I could find on the elusive Nick. I won't go into detail about how I discovered his possible whereabouts since that knowledge is classified, but I had received word that a small village secluded in a valley out west of my current location might hold a few of the answers I had been so vehemently searching for. Without further delay, my trusty vehicle chugged along to the little hamlet out in the middle of nowhere. A lengthy drive next to some defunct train tracks and through a massive forest led me to my destination, and when I arrived, I could instantly see that the dreary setting looked like a community time had left behind.

The tires of my steadfast pickup crunched to a halt on the gravel as I pulled off a cobblestone road and parked next to what looked like a saloon. I'm sure the place had been quite lively at one time...probably more so during the previous century. I turned my vehicle off and pushed my door open as I placed the keys in my right pocket. I then slammed the door shut while looking around and studying my surroundings. I have to admit that even though I was dumbfounded by what met my eyes, I was also somewhat happy when I came to the realization that this small community lived a simpler lifestyle like one from a bygone era. Anyone who's ever heard any of my past stories has probably noted how many times I've bitched about technology in the past...so I'm sure comes as no surprise that I was delighted by everything surrounding me.

If I had to guess, I'd say that the village probably consisted of no more than thirty or forty buildings. Other than the saloon I had parked next to, I spotted a church, a restaurant, a sheriff's office, and even what I assumed to be a strip club. I can say that with confidence because the name of it was "the Treasure Chest." Since I had arrived after dark, the neon sign above was blazing in such a way that it would glow for about two seconds before some of the lights would dim in order for others to light up for another two seconds. When it did so, it would switch from an image of a closed treasure chest...and then it would open to reveal two boobs in it. Quite clever.

I was so lost in thought that a warning shout finally snapped me back to reality when I realized I was standing right in the middle of the cobblestone road as a horse drawn carriage made its way right toward me. I sprang back toward my pickup and watched in awe as the wagon rumbled by. The coachman who had the reins in his hands simply scowled at me as the couple seated behind him gave me befuddled looks.

Since I was again out of the way, I began gawking like a true tourist as I started examining everything around me anew. I saw barrels, troughs and even a few empty carts sitting on the sides and in front of wooden buildings. Even the plethora of scents in the air felt like they were straight out of history as I took in untainted oxygen that I wasn't accustomed to. Doing so much of my work in clustered cities made me realize just how nice it was to be out in what some people might refer to as "the sticks."

I swatted at a mosquito as my stomach growled at the exact same time. I realized I had been driving for hours without so much as a snack, so I turned my attention to the building I believed to be a restaurant and was relieved to see that it had a small neon sign in the window to the left of the entrance that was blinking "open." Well, I assumed it was open even though the "P" and the "E" appeared to be out of order.

As I walked across the cobblestone road, I could hear a few shouts from the saloon behind me and recognized the drunken hoots and hollers of a bunch of middle-aged men having fun. Personally, I've never been one for drinking. I had seen alcohol ruin a few different lives, so booze had never appealed to me.

When I was closer to the restaurant, I could hear some music coming from within it. Upon reaching for the handle and pulling the glass door open, a bell directly above me sounded as the old melodies became even more apparent. There was a jukebox playing on the far end of the room that had two of its walls lined with booths. There were also a few tables scattered throughout the middle of the room, and to my right was a long counter with stools in front of it. Behind that counter, there was a gruff woman probably in her fifties who had a cigarette hanging out of her mouth as she flipped a few burgers.

I wasn't used to such a setup since the woman's behavior would've been shunned back in normal society, but I can honestly say I wasn't bothered. Instead, I glanced at the burly cook and asked her, "When do you guys close?"

"You can order for another hour," was all I received.

I nodded my thanks and followed up my first query with, "Just sit anywhere?"

The woman answered with a nod since she couldn't be bothered to speak.

I turned back around and saw that I had my pick of pretty much anywhere. One booth on the far end of the small diner was taken by a rather large man and what I assumed to be his wife or girlfriend, so I seated myself closer to the door in order to give them their privacy. Upon making myself comfortable, I realized that the tune playing on the jukebox had changed. It sounded like a hoedown that was suitable for this hillbilly village...and I don't mean that in a negative way since the track was rather catchy.

"Well, I've never seen you around here before, stranger."

I spun around and was stunned by the fact that my waitress had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Imagine my shock when I laid eyes on one of the most charming brunettes I had ever seen.

The woman standing before me was about five feet, four inches tall, and she had long brown locks that went down most of her back. Her eyes were an incredible glow of amber, and her lips were a sultry red. She looked like she couldn't have been quite thirty years old yet, and she looked light enough to easily lift with one arm. She was wearing a tight pair of bisque-colored leggings, and the t-shirt she wore was tied down below in such a way to reveal part of her tummy. The sleeves were also rolled up and left her shoulders visible. I noticed it was probably due to the fact that it was slightly warm in the small establishment...or it could have just been her.

I probably sound like a real palooka for saying that, but I failed to mention that this waitress had the most breathtaking figure I had ever seen. She was very trim and fit looking...but she was carrying around a pair of sizable breasts. I've always said that I love boobs of all sizes...but the two to my immediate right were two of the most marvelous knockers I had ever espied. Even covered by a shirt made them no less remarkable.

The stunner who had on a necklace that was tucked into her top set a menu in front of me on the table and then pulled out a little pad of paper that she had in the brownish waitress apron tied around her waist. She also pulled out a pen from another pocket on it as she asked, "What can I get you to drink, handsome?"

Shaking my head in order to come out of my self-induced trance, I glanced directly above the friendly female's left breast to the nametag pinned to her shirt. I cleared my throat and finally responded, "Bridget is a beautiful name."

The brunette had the most alluring smile as she cocked her head and said, "Aw, thanks, stranger! Handsome and courteous! I like that!"

I'll be the first to admit that it had been quite some time since I had relished the company of a good woman...and if I could've invited Bridget to have a seat across from me on the other side of that booth, I wouldn't have hesitated for a second. Not only was she drop-dead gorgeous with a very agreeable accent, but she had an energy about her that made me want to get to know her better. There was nothing in that moment that I would've enjoyed more than shooting the shit with her for as long as she would've allowed a conversation to last. However, I knew she had a job to do, so I finally responded, "I'll be good with water."

"You want a lemon in that, stranger?"

I know it was her job to ask such questions, but it felt like she was reading my mind. "Yeah. I think I do, Bridget."

The stunning brunette flashed me another one of her phenomenal smiles. She obviously didn't need to write my request down, so she put the pen and pad of paper away as she pointed out, "I feel it's only fair since you know mine, so can I ask your name, stranger?"

"Marcus," I responded. "Marcus Veovin."

"My, that's a good, strong name. I like that, Mister Veovin."

"You can call me Marcus. Or Veovin. Mister Veovin is my dad."

Bridget let out a laugh since she apparently enjoyed my retort. She then gave me a pat on my right shoulder as she told me, "I'll be right back with that ice water, handsome!"

I watched my overly attractive waitress make her way across the small room and toward the counter. I realized I had a huge grin on my face and did my best to wipe it away before I came off as a creeper. I tried to convince myself that Bridget was just doing her job by being nice to me, but I felt that there was some kind of chemistry between us. I don't think I was the only one who thought so because even though the other couple in the small establishment was a good twenty feet away from me, I noticed both of them gazing in my direction and shaking their heads as if they were ashamed of me. I discounted the erratic behavior since Bridget was already back with my beverage.

"Here you go, Marcus!" She exclaimed as she set the glass of ice water in front of me. There were three lemon slices placed on the rim. "I don't suppose you've even had a chance to look at the menu yet, have you?"

I realized that I hadn't bothered opening it since I had been so caught up in watching the dazzling waitress. Feeling a bit dopey, I fumbled about with it while stammering, "Um, no...I haven't looked at it yet."

Bridget laughed in that charming manner she had about her as she asked, "Well, depending on what you're in the mood for, I could make a few different suggestions."

Honestly, I was up for whatever was on the brunette's mind.

"We have a mean burger with some fried onions and pepper jack cheese on it," Bridget informed me. She then leaned in a little closer and whispered, "It's even better with an over-easy egg with it."

I hoped the astonishing woman didn't hear my stomach rumbling as she told me about the delightful sounding burger. I also prayed that she didn't notice me taking a whiff of her long brown locks. I know I mentioned before that I didn't want to come off as a creeper, but there's no denying a simple fact of life: Women generally smell really good and each have their own distinctive scents. I just had to know what Bridget smelled like...and let me distill the mystery by saying it was a mix of maple syrup with that of a hike through the woods. It was divine.

"That burger sounds delicious," I responded since I thought it would please Bridget to know that I trusted her recommendation. "I don't suppose I could get some fries with that, could I?"

"Of course!" She replied as she gave me a playful swat in the right bicep. "Wouldn't be much of a burger if you didn't get some fries with it!"

I was about to make some kind of witty response when the burly man on the other side of the diner raised his voice and asked, "Are you going to keep fawning over the stranger, or are you going to bring me that ketchup I asked for five minutes ago?"

Bridget was still looking in my direction and made her face cringe a bit as if to tell me, "oops." She then used her playful energy as she spun around and jogged toward the counter while telling the large man, "Sorry about that! I got a little sidetracked!"

The man did nothing but grumble as the lithe form of the prettiest waitress I've ever seen made her way over to his table. She put the bottle down in front of him and asked if he needed anything else. He responded with a grunt.

Bridget then started making her way back to my booth. Since her back was to the gruff man, she rolled her eyes so only I could see the action. I smiled to inform her that I understood. She was certainly a better person than I was because I could never handle such a job. I'm not much of a people person.

When Bridget was back with me, she decided to actually have a seat on the booth across from me. I could tell just by looking into those amber eyes of hers that she was excited about something, and she could hardly contain herself as she asked, "So, where are you from, Marcus?"

I shook my head as I truthfully answered, "I'm originally from south of here, but currently, I don't really have a place to call home."

The beauteous brunette frowned as if saddened by the news. "Oh...why not?"

"My job keeps me on the road," I told her before taking a sip of water. "I actually live out of my pickup more than anything."

"That sounds uncomfortable!" Bridget responded in her energetic manner. She looked like she had a follow-up question for me, but instead of asking, she turned to look in the direction of the cook behind the counter as she shouted, "Marcus will take one of your world-famous burgers, Cathy!"

The brusque woman behind the counter just waved her spatula in response while keeping her eyes on what she was doing.

When Bridget turned her attention back to me, she apologized, "Sorry about that."

At first, I thought she was referring to the fact that she had forgot to give the cook my order. I was about to tell her it was no big deal, but she was already going on.

"I know some people don't like the fact that Cathy smokes while doing the cooking, but once you've had one of her burgers, you'll realize just how good they truly are!"

I nodded my understanding as I jokingly pointed out, "Probably adds some extra flavor, right?"

Bridget seemed to find humor in my words and let out a hearty laugh. As she did so, I felt one of her feet brush up against my right leg...and I must admit that it sent a chill through my entire body. It certainly wasn't a bad one...it was actually quite thrilling.

From where I sat on the opposite side of the booth from the sprightly brunette, my eyes went to the only other couple in the diner every now and again...and I kept noticing that they were giving me dirty looks. At least, I thought they were directed at me at first until I realized they were probably actually meant for Bridget. It was becoming a little irritating since I was enjoying the woman's company so much, so I did my best to ignore them in order to listen to the spirited waitress.

Bridget then placed an elbow on the table and leaned against one of her hands as she continued to stare directly at me while asking, "So, what kind of job keeps you away from having a home and family...or do you have a family somewhere?"

I took another sip of my water and appreciated the lemon flavor that accompanied the soothing liquid. As I set the glass back down, I shook my head and told the inquisitive female, "Not one of my own, anyway."

"That's a shame," Bridget said in a faraway sounding voice.

When I first started getting serious with women, I was absolutely horrible at reading them. I'm not kidding when I say that if a gorgeous female walked right up to me and stood an inch away from my face while telling me, "I like you," I wouldn't have believed her. As I started getting older and had my share of memorable encounters with some of the most wonderful women to ever live, I can honestly say that I was beginning to understand the fairer sex a lot more. It had taken nearly forty years, but at least I was learning. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that in that moment, the lively brunette across from me was possibly hitting on me.

"Are you gonna want fries with that burger?" A cackle from behind the counter suddenly interrupted our bonding session. I would've answered, but Bridget took it upon herself to tell Cathy over the sizzling of the grill about fifteen feet away that I indeed did...and then she apologized to me again.

I responded with a chuckle as I took note of the upset couple on the other side of the diner yet again. I ignored them and promptly focused on the woman across from me.

"So, what do you do for a living, Marcus?"

Before I could answer, I observed that Bridget was about to reach for my glass of water...until it dawned on her that the glass was mine and not hers. I pretended to not notice as I answered her question without giving away too much. "I'm actually something of a journalist."

"Really? You don't look like one!"

I laughed in response and shot back, "And how does a journalist usually look?"

Bridget also laughed in such a sweet manner as she reached across the table and touched one of my hands. The feel of her fingers was something else, and I had yet another chill course through my body. I know she was going to have a cute response for me once she regained her composure, but we were abruptly interrupted in the most obnoxious manner possible.