by
phair
“Okay, I’m at the Facebook front page screen thing. What do I do next?” Sam shouted.
Coyote’s reply was slightly muffled by the half closed bathroom door, “Did you plug in your user name and password yet?”
Sam made a face and looked at his grandfather sitting on the edge of the double bed jammed in next to the ancient desk. The old man shrugged. The pair of them stared back at the computer screen standing tall amid the clutter on Coyote’s desk. They waited silently as if something would happen without them taking any action. Coyote stuck her soaking wet head out of the bathroom door to check on their lack of progress.
“Dude, what’s your friggin’ password?”
Sam looked back over his shoulder at her and began to stutter, “When you say password, what exactly are you referring to?”
“Oh man,” Coyote was exasperated. “Every program you use needs two things. The first of which is your user name which is usually the same as an email account.”
“That, okay, yep, I know what that is,” Sam seemed very proud of his sudden revelation.
“The password is something that only you should know,” Coyote grimaced and ducked back behind the bathroom door. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’d have told it to somebody reliable, would you have? Maybe somebody like Heather?”
“No, it’s okay. I know what I need now. Just get confused with that userword and passname nonsense. Can’t remember which is which,” Sam clarified and reached for his wallet.
Gramp chuckled. “You wrote it down? Even I know you’re not suppose to do that.”
“No, I didn’t, write it down. I’m not stupid,” Sam defended. “I wrote a hint down.”
He pulled his business card free and studied it for a moment. His brows drew together in deep thought. He finally turned back to the keyboard and typed. A beep indicated he was not correct.
“SAM!” Coyote screamed a warning from inside the bathroom. “If you fuck it up two more times then it will lock you out and my plan goes all to shit! You need to get me into Rachael’s Facebook page if I’m going to help you. So, don’t screw up again.”
“Not too much pressure huh, boy?” Gramp whispered.
Sam shook his head, “I wish this had a volume control so she wouldn’t hear.”
“Want a head start to your car when you flub up again, huh?”
Sam nodded. He resumed typing and achieved another negative beep. Swearing ensued from the bathroom. Sam typed furiously to race against Coyote’s growing aggravation.
“SAM!” Coyote shouted as she exited the bathroom.
“In! I’m in. Relax. Done. I did it right,” Sam’s babbling was abruptly halted when he saw Coyote. “Wow!”
“Easy, boy. You two are related,” Gramp noted casually.
Coyote grinned and promised, “And, I’d rip your dick off and shove it up your ass if you even thought of getting wood in my presence.”
Sam’s hands instinctively covered the threatened body part. The warning was well needed. Sam’s body was reacting to the sight before him. Coyote was standing in the dead center of the room wearing a white tank top and skimpy cut off jeans. The firmly shaped muscles in her arms and shoulders were delicately highlighted with oil providing a glistening effect which made them look softly delectable. Her long legs looked strong but maintained a sleek linear line.
“You’re gorgeous!” Sam burst out. “You’ve got breasts and hips and everything.”
Gramp shook his head sadly. “Now I know why you need Coyote’s help with girls. You’re kind of dopey around beautiful women, ain’t you?”
“Yes,” Sam was dejected.
Coyote could not hold back her laugh. “Maybe we should shoot for you to be tall, dark, and handsome and forget eloquent.”
“Good idea,” Sam was relieved she was not mad at him. “Now, why do I need to be in Facebook?”
Coyote explained as she retrieved her work boots and socks. “I need to know what your girl likes.”
“How can you tell on Facebook?” Sam asked and his grandfather laughed.
“Wow, you really are a babe in the techno world,” Coyote marveled before planting herself on the narrow bed next to Gramp. “Go to your friend list…,”
“All seven of them,” Gramp noted as he squinted at the screen.
“Click on Rachael,” Coyote said before a smile spread across her face. “She’s a cutie, Sam. Look Gramp, Sam’s girlfriend has breasts and hips and everything.”
Sam sighed at their laughter. “Fine. Make fun of me. It is only my future hanging in the balance. Only your great grandchild, Grandpa, and a potential cousin for you Coyote. That is if she hasn’t,” Sam could not finish the dark thought.
“Man up, Dude,” Coyote said flatly. “No chick in trouble wants a wuss lover. This is where you grab your balls not tuck ‘em up inside!”
“Vivid,” Gramp noted.
“Thanks,” Coyote spared the old man a wink. “Sam, click on Rachael’s profile. Go to info. That’s it. Scroll. There we go. A treasure trove of what she likes!”
“Seriously? You’re gonna fix my relationship based on this?” Sam was horrified. “Maybe this is outdated or maybe she was fooling around when she filled it out or maybe…,”
“Maybe it’ll work,” Gramp interrupted. “Wish I had this when I was chasing your Grandmother. I had to follow her around to find out what she liked and didn’t like.”
“Did you get arrested?” Coyote teased.
Gramp shook his head. “Her brother beat the snot out of me for being a peeping Tom. Thank God, he did. She felt so bad about my broken nose she agreed to go out with me.”
Coyote perked up. “There’s an idea. Sam, Rachael have any brothers?”
“Funny. Very funny. Again, my future’s in your hands and you decide to try stand up comedy,” Sam grumbled.
“Read to me, Sammy. What does it say Rachael likes?” Coyote resumed tying her boots.
“The Red Sox, MFA, sky diving,” Sam stopped cold and swallowed. “Hope she doesn’t like that too, too much.”
Coyote stood and went to look over his shoulder. “She also likes baking, wuss. Maybe you two can just have a bake off instead of tandem jumps out of a plane. Okay, this has just what I need. I’ll call my buddy, Favo, and he’ll make up a gift basket. I’ll deliver it then distract Pit Bull Karla so Rachael gets the goodies. She’ll be so overwhelmed with your thoughtfulness she’ll call you and you won’t say anything stupid and then you’ll live happily ever after. The end.”
“You really think so?” Sam asked with a slight crack in his voice.
“Sure. Now you head back to your place and wait for your blushing girlfriend to call.”
Sam nodded and muttered goodbyes as he exited the room. Gramp waited a few seconds before leaning closer to Coyote. He crooked his finger to get her to bend down to hear his whisper.
“He don’t stand a chance of pulling this off, does he?”
“Not a glimmer of hope,” Coyote confided sadly.
* * *
“What?” As she pulled the door open, Karla barked the greeting to Coyote standing on the doorstep holding a massive foil wrapped basket.
Coyote’s face changed from passive indifference to surprise to mild disappointment before she asked, “Rachael?”
“No,” Karla huffed.
“Thank goodness,” Coyote grinned as she sighed her relief.
Karla seemed alarmed by the response. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well, Rachael is the recipient of this pathetic delivery from some breeder named Samuel Allerton. If you were Rachael that’d mean you were straight and then I’d be totally out of luck,” Coyote’s voice was soft and husky.
“What makes you think I’m not straight?” Karla wanted to be indignant about something, anything.
Coyote looked disappointed. She refrained from commenting on the buzz hair cut, military black framed eye glasses, Lilith Fair tee shirt, and baggy sweatpants.
Instead, she ventured forward with a hearty apology. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be out of line with you, miss. It’s just, you’re kind of my type but if you’re not…,”
Karla, unwilling to let the argument fizzle, interrupted, “There’s nothing wrong with being straight, you know.”
“Oh hey, of course not. Really some of my best friends are breeders, I mean hetero. Like, my parents were, you know, straight,” Coyote tried to sound appropriately remorseful but she knew she’d hook Karla’s attention if not her interest.
Karla gave a crooked smile with coffee stained teeth. “Look, it’s okay. I’m not straight but I hate when people make assumptions.”
“Oh, I totally understand. I just thought I got lucky. Usually, these kinds of deliveries are for some poor girl who got knocked up by some sanctimonious lout.”
“What? Did the sperm donor actually go into your boutique and order the basket himself? Are you kidding? I thought he’d leave that to his lipstick lesbian assistant,” Karla hissed.
“I didn’t see him but my boss said he came in with a long list of particulars. What did he trap her with? Twins?” Coyote quipped and Karla gagged out a barking laugh. “Wow, you’ve got the sweetest voice. Are you involved with anybody? I know it’s too forward to just ask but I don’t want to miss a chance to get to know somebody like you.”
Karla stepped back from the doorway and motioned Coyote inside. “Why don’t you put that crap over there on the buffet table? Maybe I could get you something cold to drink? Or do you have to hurry off for more loser deliveries?”
“This was my last stop of the day,” Coyote said as she deposited the basket as directed. “I must be livin’ right ‘cause I got no place to be. I’d love a cold drink. You got any Fresca?”
Karla’s mouth dropped open. “You drink Fresca? Oh my God, it’s my favorite drink.”
“I knew the minute you opened the door, we’d have a lot in common,” Coyote stepped a little closer to Karla to hush the words. She let her mind race with the memories of trolling through Karla’s Facebook account and a series of painfully dull blogs at a vegan message board. “Maybe we could grab a bite to eat. I know this wonderful vegetarian place. Oh, wait, you’re a vegetarian aren’t you? ‘Cause that’s really important to me.”
Karla’s eyes twinkled in delight. “It’s like you read my mind.”
“No, just your profile,” Coyote though silently before saying, “I think we are going to have a great afternoon.”
Karla giggled like a school girl as she hurried off to the kitchen. “If you keep playing your cards right, we might have a better night.”
Coyote grimaced and thought, “Sammy, you are lucky I’m a complete tramp.”
* * *
Sam had been praying for his cell phone to ring for hours. Now that it actually was ringing, his palms started to sweat. He grabbed the device and checked the screen knowing it would read, ‘Rach.’
“Hey there,” he managed not to stutter the greeting.
“Hi,” her voice was so soft Sam expect the next words to warn him off bothering her ever again. “It’s beautiful. Really Sam, it’s so lovely but too much. Too expense to do.”
Sam cringed a little. “You know, I’m not good at lying. I can’t really fib either. So, I’m just going to say this up front. I got a deal from the guy who’s a friend of my cousin and she helped me figure out what you might like.” He was sure he was babbling but could not seem to stop himself. “If I was smarter, I probably would have been able to figure something like it but I’m not that kind of clever. So, I got a little help. But, the feelings were all me. I’ve been desperate to talk to you. I need you to hear this, I love you.”
“Wow, Sam, you could use a little white lie or just not offer so much truth,” Rachael advised.
“I’m sorry,” Sam felt like he was blowing his only chance. “I’m probably the only guy in history who can ad lib politics but needs a speech writer for his private life.”
A moment of silence was followed by a deadpan response. “Clinton might have had the same issue.”
Sam was relieved when Rachael laughed. He pulled out his kitchen chair and sat with a little thud. His whole body was trembling.
“Are you okay?”
Rachael sobered to answer, “Yes. I didn’t have too bad a bout of morning sickness today. Badly named ailment, I might mention. It actually lasts all day. How about you? How are you doing with this?”
“I’m worried sick for you. You were suffering so much and there was nothing I could do to help you.” Sam was honest, “I’m really scared for you.”
“See, that’s what you should have lead off with,” Rachael sniffled. “That will get me every time.”
Sam smiled with a sense of relief. “Maybe you could be my speech writer. Make sure I don’t say anything stupid anymore.”
“Sounds like a full time job.”
“Overtime actually. Just ask my girlfriend how much work I am.” Sam closed his eyes and plunged into the question he feared. “Do I still have a girlfriend, Rachael?”
“No,” she said slowly, “you have a significant other and a baby on the way.”
“Thank God,” Sam felt the tears crest over his eye lids and down his cheek. “You have no idea how much you mean to me. I promise, I’m gonna try so hard not to be an asshole.”
Rachael laughed so hard she snorted. “Get in your truck and get over here. Karla’s out for dinner so I can sneak you into my bedroom without a screaming match.”
“See you in fifteen,” Sam said before hanging up. “And, thank you, Coyote! I owe you. Taking that beast out to dinner is above and beyond the call of duty. I guess blood is thicker than water.”
* * *
As soon as Rachael rolled over in her sleep, Sam eased himself out of the bed. He found his smiley face boxers in the chair near the closed door. His bladder was throbbing for relief. But, he ignored the discomfort because Rachael was sleeping so soundly on his chest. He would not consider moving her and disturb her rest.
“Glad she rolled over, though,” Sam thought to himself. “I doubt she’d want me to piss the bed”
He carefully opened the bedroom door and exited. Gently, he click the door shut behind him. Sam felt like a kid Christmas morning trying to sneaking down the hallway without waking up everybody. It seemed a little undignified for a grown man to creep around trying not to wake his girlfriend’s obnoxious roommate but he really wanted to avoid a confrontation. The evening had been too wonderful to wreck at this point.
After relieving himself, he considered not flushing but decided the hygiene quotient was worth the risk of waking Karla. Besides, he reasoned he’d be able to scamper back to bed before she could drag her ass out of her room to snoop around.
Sam’s easing open of the bathroom door was stopped halfway with the sight standing on the other side.
“Coyote?” He gasped.
She looked positively hung over. Her hair was a wild mess with snarls and strands in every direction. She was completely naked and appeared complete unbothered by her exposure. Hickies littered her neck, shoulders, and breast. She wiped her face with the back of her hand before squinting trying to recognize who whispered her name.
Sam covered her mouth with his hand when she attempted to speak. He pulled her head first into the bathroom before pushing the door closed with his shoulder. Spinning her around to face him, Sam saw her start to swoon. He backed her to the toilet and plopped her down.
“What are you still doing here? Why are you hung over? Where’s Karla?” Sam whispered frantically.
Coyote had to suppress a belch before she could answer. “I’m still here because you wanted me to distract Karla so you could make up with Rachael. And, it looks like mission accomplished, Mr. Happy Pants. I’m hung over because I needed to be really drunk to ‘distract’ Karla. Man, she’s a piece of work. Almost never shuts up. And, as for the ‘where’s Karla’ question, she’s in bed waiting for me to come back for round two. Or, it could be round 4.”
“Eww,” Sam could not contain his moment of revulsion. “You slept with it?”
“You told me to distract her.”
“Yes, but I didn’t say you should touch her. I mean, gross me out or something. She’s ghastly.”
Coyote gave a little wink. “She’s actually a wild woman under the sheets. That is, once I popped in my ear buds to drown her whining voice out, it was circus time. I’m aching like I’ve been lifting an engine block over my head all night.”
Sam nodded sadly. “Figures. Screwing her is a greasy, labor intensive chore.”
“But,” Coyote grinned, “surprisingly satisfying.”
Sam looked very worried. “She didn’t give you a pill or hypnotize you or something, did she? Should we get you to the doctors to catch up on your shots?”
“Baby? Baby, are you in there? Who’re talkin’ to?” Karla’s scratchy voice called through the closed door.
“Shit!” Sam cringed.
“Man up,” Coyote scolded quietly. “Get in the shower. I’ll get her back to bed. Then you finish up with Rachael and clear out. I’m only gonna be good for another hour or so. This chick is kicking my ass.”
“Baby? Who’re talking to?”
Coyote stood and shoved Sam back into the stall shower as she answered, “Singing, sweetie, singing your praises. Now, just give me a sec, hon! I’m coming.”
“Not yet, Baby, but I’m gonna make sure you do come. Over and over again.”
Sam made a gagging motion with his index finger toward his open mouth. Coyote just smiled before heading back to the bathroom door.
“Man, I really owe her,” Sam shook his head.
