He forced a smile. “Hi, Greta.”
“Oh my, I just feel terrible. I made a complete inaccurate assumption and now I feel obligated to set the record straight before any rumors get started around here. Not that we’re a bunch of gossipy people or anything.”
“No, of course not.” AJ choked out the words lacking any sort of sincerity.
“Any hoo … I know this is going to come as a shock to you, it’s been for everyone else, but the Knights … they’re not married. They’re actually brother and sister.”
“No!”
“Yes, I know. Who would have thought, right?”
“Yeah, who would have thought? So how did this get brought to your attention?”
“Well, it’s rather embarrassing but Stan’s wife, Lynette, saw Jackson kissing some woman in the driveway that was not Jillian. So she told Stan, Stan told Dodge, Dodge told Marvin, and when Marvin told me … well, my heart just broke for poor Jillian. In spite of her questionable attire and well … evening profession, we’ve come to adore her. She’s done so much for Lilith, you know. So I gathered up my courage, made a batch of fudge, grabbed a box of tissues, and paid Jillian a visit when Jackson’s car was gone.”
“And what did she say?” AJ widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Funny thing, actually. The front door was open so I hollered through the screen door and the next thing I knew there was this big commotion and this strange guy came running out, tugging up his trousers and blood was dripping from his face. Then Jillian came to the door looking as calm and collected as ever.”
“Who was he?”
“Well, at first she told me he was an interior designer and he had a seizure on the toilet, felt utterly embarrassed, and then ran out.”
“What?”
“I know, Jillian has exceptional taste why would she need an interior designer? It just didn’t add up. Then she saw the fudge and box of tissues, so I decided to forge ahead with my original mission. And when I finally worked up the nerve to tell her, she fell into a fit of laughter and proceeded to tell me that Jackson’s her brother. Then she told me on the, and I quote, ‘down low’ that the guy I saw running out of the house was actually her date and he injured himself…” Greta looked around then lowered her voice “…with a PPD.”
AJ cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”
Greta made another visual sweep of the area. “Personal Pleasure Device,” she whispered closer to his ear. “But you didn’t hear it from me. I’d hate to start any rumors.”
AJ’s jaw clenched while the silent pulse of a headache grew with each passing second. “Thanks for clearing all that up, Greta.”
“Don’t mention it, dear. I’d better get back to Marvin. He’s trying to shove a beer can up a chicken’s ass for dinner tonight.”
AJ nodded. As soon as Greta crossed the street, Jackson pulled out of their garage in Woody. He shot AJ a smile and waved as he drove out of the development. AJ needed to start doping-up on pain meds, but his urge to pay Jillian a visit hijacked all commonsense and urgency for self-preservation.
“Coming!” Jillian called when AJ rang her doorbell.
“Sarge.” She glanced at her watch. “You’re home early. But then again it’s been days since I’ve seen you around at all. Did you take a trip or have you been avoiding me?” She opened the door to let him inside.
“Someone witnessed a bloodied victim of yours fleeing the scene of the crime.”
Jillian smiled as she leaned against the piano. “Good news travels fast around here. I thought it would. Yes, I had a date. The hostess from my Lascivio party last week fixed me up with her boss. No need to be jealous, AJ. I made him take me to lunch before he got to second base. I also made him ask for permission, which you didn’t do.”
AJ stared at her through slit eyes. “Greta said he ran out with his pants down!”
She chuckled. “So you are jealous. I told you, all you had to do was take me on a date.”
AJ shook his head in disgust and walked toward the door. “If that’s all it takes, then you’re a cheap fuck.”
*
AJ gulped down two pills with a tall glass of water before his doorbell rang. He hated his temper and the sharp words that sliced through his mouth. Even more, he hated that his neighbor robbed all his control.
“What?” he groaned, seeing Jillian on the other side of his screen door.
“You are such a stubborn ass!” She threw open the screen door and shoved his chest, forcing him back a few feet.
“What the hell?”
“It was a vibrating pleasure pocket. Rick Willey loves two things: softball and sex toys. That’s why he got fixed up with me. We went to lunch and then I offered to show him a few things. He was interested in the masturbation aids so I sent him into the bathroom with it and a condom. A few minutes later Greta hollered into the house, Rick flew out of the bathroom door with his pants still around his ankles, thinking the pleasure pocket was malfunctioning, then he face-planted into the newel post. Before I could help him with his bloodied face, he ran out the door.”