Decker's Wood

“The one that committed suicide?”

 

 

“The one and the same. I even had a tiny plastic imitation of this very arch in his bowl.” I dragged her away from her moment of fish nostalgia, and we wandered unhurriedly around the pathways and gardens. It was springtime and the afternoon air was warm. We laid in the grass and talked about our childhood. I told Andi about the time my brothers tied me up and shaved my eyebrows off. She told me about the time Bradley took her skiing and she fell and broke her wrist as they walked into the hotel. They spent four hours in the emergency room and went straight home afterwards. I enjoyed knowing more about her past, even the morose moments when her father became ill and she moved home to care for him. As the sun slowly dropped from the sky, long shadows were cast across the park but people were still milling around, taking advantage of the fresh, warm day. It was a scene of tranquility, nestled right in the center of the city, and for the first time in years, I felt peaceful.

 

“Leah and Cindy seemed nice,” Andi said out of the blue.

 

“They are,” I admitted. She was quiet once more, in a way that told me her brain was sifting through information, sorting through questions.

 

“I didn’t expect that,” she confessed.

 

“You didn’t expect them to be nice?”

 

“No, I guess I was stereotyping. I was prepared for skankville, a little bitchiness, even claws, but they were pretty ordinary even if they did look like sex on a stick.”

 

I grinned. When I had first started working in this industry, I expected the very same thing. “Most of the girls are normal like Leah and Cindy. Some are married, some have families. I guess, like anything, you have a good side and a bad side. I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with spiteful mood Hoovers both in the industry and out of it, but for the most part, the girls who work scenes are pretty cool.”

 

“Mood Hoover?”

 

I ruffled her hair, unable to not touch her. “Yeah, you know, someone who sucks the good mood right out of the air, much like you ladies get once a month.” She slapped my arm. She really had a penchant for hitting me, and I kind of hoped it was her way of discreetly touching me.

 

“You know, research clearly states that men go through their own version of a monthly cycle, where hormones fluctuate, turning them into raging assholes. From what I can tell, most of ya’ll get stuck in that cycle.”

 

I raised an eyebrow at her declaration, and she arched her brow right back.

 

“Is that so?”

 

She grinned and nodded. Without another thought, I scooped her off the ground and threw her over my shoulder. She screamed loudly, garnering the attention of more than a few passersby.

 

“Decker, let me down this second!” she screamed. I clamped my arm over her legs and headed for the fountain that sat right in front of the George Washington Arch. “Decker, I’m serious, everyone will be gawking at my panties!” I raised a hand to her ass, just to make sure her dress was covering her…really.

 

“Don’t worry, Country, I got your cotton-tails covered.” I kicked off my flip flops and somehow managed to wrangle her boots off, leaving them right by the fountain, then stepped into the ankle deep water. I dropped her to her feet just as water sprayed from the fountain’s center, shooting straight up into the air, raining down on the both of us. I wasn’t sure if I had just signed my death warrant by carting her in here, so I stood and waited. Her grin was wicked as she scooped a handful of water and threw it right in my face. “Oh, you are going down!”

 

We kicked and threw water at each other like we didn’t have a care in the world. Two little kids ended up joining us, and once we were all thoroughly saturated, much to some mother’s dismay, I dragged Andi out of the fountain and retrieved our footwear. The sun was almost set and a light chill had filled the previously warm air. Andi stood at the passenger side of my car, staring at the leather seats shivering. “Hurry up, Country, get in.”

 

“I’ll get your seats wet.”

 

I rested one hand on the roof of my car as I leaned over her shoulder. “This may surprise you, but your wet panties on my leather seats is kind of a fantasy of mine.”

 

She shook her head and chuckled. “Just can’t help yourself,” she mumbled as she quickly climbed in.