for a shower suddenly seemed pressing, but he decided to call Sharon first. He pulled out his phone and dialed.
“Hey, Bob,” she answered.
“Hey, Shar,” he said, slumping back onto the bed.
“So, you’re staying another night, aren’t you? I can hear it in your voice.”
“How could you hear that? I only said two words.”
“Exactly. You always get terse when there’s something you’re afraid to tell me.”
Bobby sighed. “Yeah, one more night.”
“Spill already,” Sharon urged.
“Well, it’s kinda the artist. I… I don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?”
“Well, he’s kinda attractive.”
The phone was dead quiet for a moment. “I’m not gonna do this,
Bobby,” Sharon declared. “I’m not gonna be your shoulder to cry on. You know I loved Nathan to death, and I miss him like shit, but Nate was the one who died. Not you.”
“What?” Bobby sat up in shock.
“Where are you staying?”
“Hasting’s B and B in Brungess.”
“All right. If you’re having some kind of feelings for this artist, you
know Nathan would be the first one to tell you to quit pining and get off your whiney butt. Go do something about it. If you don’t, I’m gonna fly out there and kick your ass. I’ve got your address now,” she threatened.
Bobby hesitated.
“Quit being a dumb jock and go.”
Bobby just shook his head. “When did you get to be such a hardassed bitch?”
“The minute you needed it. Now get off the phone and get moving. Go see that artist or just come home. Either way, I don’t want to hear any more about it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Try to have some fun too, while you’re at it,” Sharon said before hanging up.
Bobby picked up the electric razor, opened the package with the scissors, and then headed to the bathroom. Since he was going to work out first, he decided to just trim up a bit and do a quick rinse. Besides, he couldn’t get the thought of using Odis’s shower out of his head.
After getting back to his room, Bobby packed up the toiletries, jogging shorts, and a change of clothes in the duffel bag he’d bought and headed back to the rental car.
B
OBBY pulled up to the gate and hadn’t even gotten out of the car when Heimdalla showed up to greet him. She enjoyed her car ride back to the house. She bounded ahead to the house door, but she crooked her head curiously when Bobby turned right at the bottom of the stairs. She tagged along behind him to the exercise room.
When Bobby opened the french-style doors, he breathed in the inviting familiar gym smell of hot tub chemicals and old sweat. He was surprised to see so much equipment as he glanced around the room. Besides the Bowflex in the corner, he also saw a cycling bike, a stair-step machine, and a treadmill. In the other corner, the hot tub bubbled away, its gurgling sounds muffled by the padded cover.
Heimdalla hesitated at the doorway.
“I’ll be all right. Go stay with Odis,” Bobby told the dog. She gave him a once-over glance, then headed across the patio to the
main house.
Bobby stripped off his jeans and pulled on the jogging shorts, only then realizing he’d forgotten to bring a towel.
He decided to start with the treadmill.
As Bobby jogged along, Sharon’s words from their last phone call kept echoing in his head. “Quit pining and get off your whiney butt” seemed to be the favored phrase. But didn’t he have every right to pine? It’s only been 162 days since Nathan died. Not even a full six months have passed. Aren’t people supposed to grieve for a year or something?
With his heart rate up comfortably, Bobby went and examined the wall-mounted instruction chart for the Bowflex. He set up the machine to do some chest exercises by hooking a pull-down bar to two steel cables that dangled from an upper support bar.
He lay down on the bench, trying to clear his mind and focus on the task at hand. He counted his reps aloud. “Pull, two, three, four. Two, two, three, four. Three, two, three,
“Hey, Bob,” she answered.
“Hey, Shar,” he said, slumping back onto the bed.
“So, you’re staying another night, aren’t you? I can hear it in your voice.”
“How could you hear that? I only said two words.”
“Exactly. You always get terse when there’s something you’re afraid to tell me.”
Bobby sighed. “Yeah, one more night.”
“Spill already,” Sharon urged.
“Well, it’s kinda the artist. I… I don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?”
“Well, he’s kinda attractive.”
The phone was dead quiet for a moment. “I’m not gonna do this,
Bobby,” Sharon declared. “I’m not gonna be your shoulder to cry on. You know I loved Nathan to death, and I miss him like shit, but Nate was the one who died. Not you.”
“What?” Bobby sat up in shock.
“Where are you staying?”
“Hasting’s B and B in Brungess.”
“All right. If you’re having some kind of feelings for this artist, you
know Nathan would be the first one to tell you to quit pining and get off your whiney butt. Go do something about it. If you don’t, I’m gonna fly out there and kick your ass. I’ve got your address now,” she threatened.
Bobby hesitated.
“Quit being a dumb jock and go.”
Bobby just shook his head. “When did you get to be such a hardassed bitch?”
“The minute you needed it. Now get off the phone and get moving. Go see that artist or just come home. Either way, I don’t want to hear any more about it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Try to have some fun too, while you’re at it,” Sharon said before hanging up.
Bobby picked up the electric razor, opened the package with the scissors, and then headed to the bathroom. Since he was going to work out first, he decided to just trim up a bit and do a quick rinse. Besides, he couldn’t get the thought of using Odis’s shower out of his head.
After getting back to his room, Bobby packed up the toiletries, jogging shorts, and a change of clothes in the duffel bag he’d bought and headed back to the rental car.
B
OBBY pulled up to the gate and hadn’t even gotten out of the car when Heimdalla showed up to greet him. She enjoyed her car ride back to the house. She bounded ahead to the house door, but she crooked her head curiously when Bobby turned right at the bottom of the stairs. She tagged along behind him to the exercise room.
When Bobby opened the french-style doors, he breathed in the inviting familiar gym smell of hot tub chemicals and old sweat. He was surprised to see so much equipment as he glanced around the room. Besides the Bowflex in the corner, he also saw a cycling bike, a stair-step machine, and a treadmill. In the other corner, the hot tub bubbled away, its gurgling sounds muffled by the padded cover.
Heimdalla hesitated at the doorway.
“I’ll be all right. Go stay with Odis,” Bobby told the dog. She gave him a once-over glance, then headed across the patio to the
main house.
Bobby stripped off his jeans and pulled on the jogging shorts, only then realizing he’d forgotten to bring a towel.
He decided to start with the treadmill.
As Bobby jogged along, Sharon’s words from their last phone call kept echoing in his head. “Quit pining and get off your whiney butt” seemed to be the favored phrase. But didn’t he have every right to pine? It’s only been 162 days since Nathan died. Not even a full six months have passed. Aren’t people supposed to grieve for a year or something?
With his heart rate up comfortably, Bobby went and examined the wall-mounted instruction chart for the Bowflex. He set up the machine to do some chest exercises by hooking a pull-down bar to two steel cables that dangled from an upper support bar.
He lay down on the bench, trying to clear his mind and focus on the task at hand. He counted his reps aloud. “Pull, two, three, four. Two, two, three, four. Three, two, three,
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