The White Night by Desmond Doane

Author:Desmond Doane [Doane, Desmond]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2015-08-12T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Mike Long

We retreated to my place, and now I’m standing here in a confused daze.

By the time we got here, the kids had left for the Daltons’ house, friends of ours who live up the street and also have an in-ground swimming pool with a diving board. Dayton and Ashley spend more time there than anywhere else—which is completely alien to me since they have an entire ocean to swim in mere feet away. Not that I care, it’s just that sometimes I’m burdened by an adult’s logic. Aren’t we all? Most of us, anyway.

Toni gave me no jealousy-fueled argument about leaving again with Dakota, and in fact, she almost seemed excited by the idea that I’d be out of the house. She didn’t even beg Dakota to hang around and take a tour of Casa de Long. She had on makeup, dangling earrings, and that skirt with the revealing slit up the side that I love so much, offering minimal details about a ‘meeting’ she was late for.

“You might see me designing for a new client,” she’d said. “Wish me luck!”

Stranger still, Toni also kissed me goodbye when she left, which I’m sure was just an act in front of Dakota, and whisked herself out the front door in a flurry of perfume and dramatic flair. She called back over her shoulder, “The kids are going to spend the night at the Daltons, so take all the time you need. Be careful, Dakota!”

Then she was gone.

And now Dakota stands beside me in the living room, studying me with an arched eyebrow. “Evil Medusa, huh?”

I snort in disbelief. “I have no idea who that person was. Keeping up appearances for you, I guess.”

“She doesn’t seem so bad.”

“Give it time.”

“That skirt, though. I’m jealous of her legs, that’s for sure.”

“What? Don’t even go there. You’re—” I cut myself off. The conversation—my brain, rather—is heading down a playground slide coated in lard. I gotta stay on track. Dakota is attractive, yes, and I’m married—final word. Perhaps not happily married, but still, I have principles. I am not Ford. I’m a dedicated father and husband, not a cheating horndog.

I stammer something dismissive about her looking great, smile awkwardly, and make a hasty exit, telling her I’m going to put my paranormal equipment out in the garage, charge the batteries, and then we can go to the library for some research.

So, yeah, that entire interaction just now was like watching a crash-test dummy take a hit at sixty-five mph in slow motion.

What had poured water on the hot ‘n’ bothered flames of my once-stagnant libido was that black, floating-mist-spirit thing blatantly noting that I want Dakota. If I’m projecting enough of that energy for it to be picked up all the way in the goddamn afterlife… then I need to back the hell off.

Jus’ sayin’.

What I really need right now is a hard workout—Old Faithful—to burn off some of this mental garbage. I need to go pick up heavy things and set them down, over and over, to wash my sins clean.

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