Life Is Like Shit - Not Chocolate

I barely had time to swerve left; good reflexes and skipping the beer got me around a lone bike rider pedaling furiously down the road. Damn kid was out in the storm with no lights. He probably had no idea I was right on his ass, given how dark it was. He had his head down, keeping the rain out of his eyes. Once my heart dropped back out of my throat and into my chest, I chuckled.

"Serves you goddamn right for getting out in this weather," I chortled, admonishing the rider as I looked in the mirror to see if he was still on the road. Or - perhaps if I had scared the shit out of him, and he drove into the ditch.

I couldn't see a damn thing! I slammed on the brakes, praying I was worrying about nothing. But I backed up anyway. Risky considering the weather, but if the kid were in the ditch, he would likely drown - if he was out cold. Hell, probably nothing - I hoped. I was dry inside, but I knew I had to get out if I had to find him. I turned on my four-ways and was about to open the truck door when I heard a hard bang on my window.

Scared the fucking shit out of me!

"Can you give me a ride?" came a muffled voice on the other side of the window. The winds got most of the question, but that's how I understood it.

"Come on! Throw your bike in the back and get in!" I yelled back amidst a peal of thunder from a nearby lightning strike.

The passenger door swung open, and a half-drowned fox quickly darted inside, trying to keep out the torrent of rain chasing him. I took one look and felt a bit shameful.

It was a girl! Not some guy out riding in the rain. My heart started pounding again. Shit! I just picked up some young girl in my truck! The ink on my divorce papers was barely dry, and Rita's accusations were fresh on my mind. Of all the damn luck!

What's that song? "If I Didn't Have Bad Luck, I'd have no Luck at All?" What a bucket of shit! ... Or maybe it was just my ass-bit snake issues going ape shit on me.

I just sat staring in the dim cab light as the wipers beat furiously. She looked beaten down by the weather. A torrent-soaked thin tee-shirt was plastered to her tits, almost see-through, even in the cab lighting. Damn ... fourteen."Danny, your ass is going to prison if this gets screwed up!" The words banged around my head and ran through my mind. I could see Rita's smile as she told the judge how I liked young things, how she was so mistreated -- 'just look at the pictures, your honor, the ones where he hung me upside down, and you can see my titties there and all!'

"I'm Jackie, Jackie Wilson," she volunteered as though I had asked her name. Her pronouncement jarred me back into the present.

"Danny," came out of my mouth before I could stop myself. Reflex. Shit, shit! She had my name.

"I know it seems crazy, mister, but it wasn't raining when I rode out. Our power went out, and I was looking to see if anybody else down the road had power. I didn't want to be in the dark alone. I stopped at that old grumpy lady's place down the road, but she wasn't home. I was going down to the Miller's place, but the rains came up so fast. I turned around and headed back. Thanks for stopping to pick me up."

She was a talker. I took a wild guess that the grumpy old lady was my momma. The Millers lived the next house over. She said that she rode out to see if others had power. 'This must be a new family in the neighborhood,' I thought.

"How come your Daddy didn't go check on the power?" I asked out of curiosity.

She looked at me for a bit before answering. Making up her mind, it seemed about telling me why. Finally, she coughed it out as she wiped the rain streaming down her face. It didn't do much good. More rivulets flowed out of her long, long hair to replace it.

"My parents are on a second honeymoon. Gone on a cruise in the gulf for two weeks," she finally decided to answer. Telling a stranger that you are alone in a house for two weeks in the middle of a storm told me she was naïve. Or else she was some kind of Kung-fu guru and could kick my ass with one arm tied behind her back.

"No generator backup system at your house?"

"Nope."

"Candles then?" I asked.

"Mister Danny, do you have some?" she answered with her own question.

Then followed it immediately, "Please, I don't want to stay there alone in the dark!" It was the tremor in her voice that got me. Genuine fright.

It was against my better judgment, but I answered, "I put in a generator for my momma. We have power. Just have to fire up the motor, so we'll have lights. You can stay until the utilities come back on."

By the time I turned into Momma's driveway, some three hundred yards down the road, the heavens had opened up, and even with the wipers on full speed, it was challenging to make the turn into the driveway.

I sat staring at the garage door as if I could will it open with my mind - Yoda-like. I swear the kid was a mind reader. One look at me, and she bounded out of the truck, pulling up on the handle to swing the overhead door up. I chuckled as she ducked inside. I drove in, still dry despite the torrential rains. She had taken another drenching, but at least she was thoughtful enough to help out.

I counted myself thankful that I'd stopped to buy some groceries before the rains started. I left the truck running and the lights on. I grabbed the groceries, setting them on the worktable as she watched, standing in the shadows on the truck's passenger side.

"Be right back!" I said as I ducked out the back door and sprinted across to the generator. I was never so fucking glad that it had a battery start-up system. One click and it came to life. I wished I had installed one of those automatic startup and power transfer systems. I wouldn't be standing outside like a kid soaked to the bones in cold rainwater. She must feel the chill as I tried to dodge puddles running back into the garage. I flipped the power transfer switch and reached for the garage lights. We were bathed in light! Halleluiah, we were saved!

No sooner had the lights come on than I heard her girlish giggle. She was looking my way. Seeing me drenched as equally as she was, was amusing to her.

"I thought opening the garage door for you would keep you dry!" she chuckled.

"Appreciated that thought," I replied, picking up the groceries and turning around to catch sight of her as she walked around the truck from the passenger side. The light in the truck cab didn't do justice to what I just now saw in the shower of overhead lighting.

I hadn't picked up a fourteen-year-old kid. My Ex looked like road kill compared to this soaked damsel in distress. Sure she was petite, I guess that's why I thought about her being a kid, but damn this was a woman. A young one, but a mighty fine, good-looking one. A real fine drink of water!

I could tell by her attitude that she knew I was mesmerized by the sight of her. How could a man not be smitten by her beauty? Her tee shirt was plastered to her skin, and her nipples clearly showed. No damn bra hiding those perky pears! Her cutoff shorts did an excellent job carving a deep V-shape at her camel toe. Damn! She looked just like an Asian American version of Daisy Duke -- just more Asian, your know? She wasn't a bit bashful and gave me that cocky smile again.

It was a damn bright one that said,'I get that look a lot, Danny boy.'

"Twenty-four," she said out of nowhere. I swear she was a damn mind reader! I was thinking it but wasn't going to ask her age.

"Jackie, you look like a drowned rat!"

I chuckled, observing the water dripping down those soft Asian American features. As I spoke, she turned into the truck, switched the engine off, and then killed the headlights. It left her ass sticking out over the vinyl seat -- damn inviting. She knew her way around trucks, it seemed.

She had the longest straight-black hair I'd ever seen. It streamed down over her shoulders to her lower back. It must be holding a gallon of water as it is plastered to her thin tee shirt. Jackie is that beautiful blend of Asian and American features with perpetual-suntanned skin color and dark-cocoa eyes. I felt a smile cross my face—the first I'd had in a long time. My eyes stayed glued to her ass until she turned back around.

"Mind opening the door? The light switch is on the left-hand side, by the refrigerator."

"Want me to go first?"

She pointed to the doorway, "Is that how you get to check out the butts of all the girls you bring home to your momma?"

"Busted," I answered as she pushed the door open and felt for the light switch.

"Take it your momma is not home since it's dark inside."

"She's taking care of my aunt for a couple of weeks, some kind of medical thing."

"So you and are connected then? You're babysitting her house, and I'm doing the same for my parents while they are cruising the gulf. Two home-a-lone kids, sort of, Danny?"

"Oh! Oh. I'm, so... okay, that's not exactly the way it is," I mumbled, having trouble formulating my response and stumbling over my reply. "I'm between residences, for the moment. This is a temporary stayover until I get a new place."

Our clothing had left a water trail across the floor from the door to where we stood. A pool was forming beneath her as her clothing rained down upon the floor and around her bare feet. She had kicked off her sneakers at the doorway. Beads of water still clung to the long strands of her straight-as-an-arrow hair. Gravity pulled them together, forming larger droplets that slid down her forehead and into those incredible Asiatic dark eyes. She wiped them away with her hand, crossed her arms under her generous pear-shaped breasts, and pressed the nearly transparent, wet garment against her body.

The rain and the drop in temperature steeled her nipples. They jutted against her tee. It was then that I saw her tremble. "You're shivering! Let's get you out of those wet clothes ..."

"Nice try, Danny.But I'm not that easy!" she smirked.

"I didn't mean it like that! Look, I'll just go see if I can find something to get you out of those wet clothes ..."

She laughed a bit louder this time but didn't say anything more to embarrass me. Hell! I just repeated the same dumb-ass line twice!

'Not too swift dipshit' I could hear Momma's words ringing in my ears. I just shook my head and searched for something she could wear. To be honest, I already knew nothing Mamma had would fit her unless you wrapped it around her twice, at least. I returned with a handful of towels, an old flannel shirt, and a terrycloth bathrobe I found in my closet when I was about twelve. Mamma kept every damn thing it seemed. Tonight that paid off.

Jackie eyed the items from my scavenger hunt with a wary eye. But another involuntary tremor shook her, and she reached out a delicate hand to retrieve them.

"Bathroom is down the hallway, first door on the right," I said as I headed back to my room to find something dry to wear. There wasn't much, just a couple of work shirts and pants. Rita had all the rest of my things, including my dancing boots and work boots. The pair I had on were in the garage filled with water. I was lucky to have some extra socks in a drawer, or I'd have been barefooted.

I heard a hair dryer kick in. She'd made herself right at home! The lights dimmed a bit. The generator wasn't meant to run an average house load. But it didn't seem to be choking the system too much.

It wasn't too long before she reappeared. I just stood there, gawking at the transformation. She looked a bit like a fluffy penguin with rolled-up white-terry-cloth sleeves and long silky-black hair flowing down her backside—the nicest looking penguin I'd ever laid eyes on.

Beginning to empty the bag of groceries, I asked, "Are you hungry? I was going to make my specialty - greasy burgers and frozen French fries. Care to join me?"

"I'm probably a better cook than you are," she answered with great conviction.

"Why don't you show me what you got - and I'll show you - what I can do with it!"

She was an astute study of human responses, it turns out. Instantly, she realized the double entendre in her words. Saw the smirk appear on my lips. Read the thoughts in the rise of my eyebrows that followed.

"The food better be what you're reaching for, mister!" she said, coolly.

"Eighty percent lean and twenty percent fat - is what I have in the bag." I chirped.

"The other meat is one-hundred-percent lean muscle - not for cooking," I smirked as I set the bag's contents on the table.

I could tell Jackie wasn't someone who took shit from anybody. It was evident from the way she stood her ground. She wasn't embarrassed like most girls would have at such a faux pas. The dialog did not fluster her--she took it like water rolling off a duck's back.

She was correct. She was a chef compared to my summer jobs during high school, working at the grill in the drive-thru 'restaurant' in town. She rummaged through momma's spices, dissed the packaged fries, and grabbed a few potatoes from the pantry, an onion, garlic, cumin, some green, and red peppers, and voila, — a country fare fit for a family feast. Not that I felt the two of us were a family. Damn, I just met the woman!

The roar of the wind and rain outside had been forgotten for a moment. I watched a beautiful woman, sensual and seemingly nonplussed at being barefooted and in my old bathrobe. The essence of innocence seemed to be enjoying looking over a simmering pan as the air filled with a wonderful fragrance, as good a one as when Momma cooks.

Watching Jackie whipping Momma's cutlery through the onions, garlic, and assorted vegetables was like seeing a samurai's sword slicing through a field of warriors! It gave me the shivers.

'Stay the fuck away from that one when she's got a knife in her hands!'

I cringed as I felt my nut sack draw up at the thought of what she could do with a knife in either hand.

I made a pee trip; the cold rainwater got to me—that and felt my nuts cringe looking at that knife flying through those vegetables. Finishing my tinkle, I saw Jackie's clothing hanging over the shower rod. It wasn't the tee shirt or the cutoff jeans that caught my attention. It seemed not even the flannel shirt she eschewed for just the robe. That damn red-silk thong looped over the rod got it. Got my rod's attention, too! Shit, it was hard to stuff my junk back into my old work pants after that! I was slow on the uptake, but it finally dawned on me what that penguin was wearing under my old bathrobe.

I walked back to the kitchen. I could feel my face warm, and my cheeks glowed at the thought of that red thong and where it had been. Jackie looked at my flushed face and then at the outline pressed into my pant leg.

"Something in there got your attention, I see ..." she snickered, pointing a 10" kitchen knife between my legs. I was fixated on the area between her knees and ... the knotted belt in her robe. The rise in my pants wasn't cooperating to ease my embarrassment.

"Yeah, I'm not wearing anything under this robe, but you already figured that out all by yourself, right?"

"Yeah — I did," I replied, amid a dry swallow.

The words slid slowly out of my lips as I imagined seeing straight through that robe and right where that red-silk thong would have hidden that camel toe. Except in my daydreaming moment, my x-ray vision didn't see any red.

"And that's all you're going to see, mister!" she remarked, turning her attention back to the skillet.

I watched her body as she stirred the food and kept a watchful eye on the pan. Her bare feet rose on tiptoe to gather spices adding a dash — a taste — and a bit more as she worked. 'She sure would look better in a red negligee as she wiggled in front of that pot,' I thought.

The wind picked up. The rain was beating furiously against the window panes. Jackie watched the relentless rain slam against the windows as she ate. I spent my time glancing out and then back to watch a hint of her breast moving up and down as she raised each bite of home fare to her luscious lips.

'Get a grip on yourself, Danny boy!' I thought, nearly blurting it out loud. I just managed to turn it into a sigh, hoping Jackie hadn't heard me.

'You already have enough trouble on your hands with Rita picking your pockets. Stay the fuck away from temptation!'

"Penny, for your thoughts, Mr. Silent One. Why are you back living with your mother? Girlfriend issues?"

'Damn. She wasn't subtle about it. Cut me straight to the quick.'

"My Ex." I hissed, pissed, as the stressed tone of my words slipped through tight lips.

"Ah!" she mused. It was as though that single word summed up everything I felt toward Rita.

Her gut punches. The sweet smile at the judge when she caught him ogling her titties.

She didn't say anymore. It was like a dam broke, and I spilled out my life story with Rita and how she left me penniless while she was fucking some asshole who's now wearing my clothes.

She just let me prattle on until I was empty. It felt good to express my anger. Better than hiring some damn shrink or paying for a round while sitting and ass-polishing that barstool. My breathing was heavier than when I launched my attack against Rita's conniving, bitchy ...

"So let me get this straight," she said, sifting through the bucket of shit I just brought to the table. "Rita gets alimony because she can't work. You're buying her a house and a car. The house payments are yours until you pay them off and she gets the house?"

"Right. That's about it, I guess."

"I liked your attorney's comment about the axle grease. Got to admit he has a sense of humor."

I ignored that last zing she shot me.

"Alimony, unless she gets remarried. The judgment says the house gets sold if she remarries and gets any proceeds after the mortgage is paid. I have to pay for the car regardless. If she stays single, I still have to pay the mortgage, and she gets the house anyway. Even pay my dog Humpy's veterinarian bills. She also got him in the divorce."

I watched Jackie stir a few crumbs of ground beef around with her fork. The gears were turning in her mind. I could sense it. What the hell was she thinking?

"Humpy? You named your dog Humpy?" she asked with a grin.

"What can I say? I was drunk. Found him on the road coming home one night. And ... well, you can figure out the rest." I muttered, unsure how she would handle that one as I took another swig off the second bottle of Shiner Bock.

I was caught up in her sparkling eyes. Her face lit up with a smirky smile, leaning toward amusement, I guess you could call it. She looked cute with those bright gleaming rows of teeth showing for a moment. Without the smile before, she looked serious, like a girl fleeing from some past turbulent issues herself. I guessed anyway. But she didn't push the dog conversation any further. She'd had her chuckle over that and moved on.

The winds had died a bit. However, the rains continued beating against the windows. I started thinking about Noah's Ark for a few seconds. I didn't have enough wood to start building one, but the weather looked like we sure were going to need it.

"Your mortgage payment probably requires insurance, right?" she announced just out of the blue.

"The lender would ensure the coverage is at least enough to cover the loan balance, although maybe not replacement cost. You should check on that. You can get that knocked down to just the loan balance coverage amount if it's replacement cost - save yourself some money. Bet her lawyer wasn't smart enough to ensure the settlement statement had that full coverage clause. Lawyers seldom do. Not many know about those kinds of outcomes.."