Spirits

By Michael Jesse

Chapter 21

Jack was in a bad mood the rest of the afternoon and left an hour early. He walked in the general direction of his apartment but cut east a couple of blocks to Tarkington Avenue and stepped into the darkness of Griffo's Grill, which he had come to appreciate both for its subtle lighting and its daily happy hour prices.

The bartender was good at remembering her customers' preferred drinks, and she brought him a tall vodka tonic. He actually wished bartenders would not do that because he feared one day someone from work would invite him out for a drink, and the bartender would bring him his usual in front of them. He was pretty sure most bartenders knew not to do that, especially when a person's "usual" was a double. Jack mitigated that risk by separating bars he liked to drink at from bars he would recommend to others.

After sucking down the first couple of gulps, he got the printout from his briefcase and looked it over again — paging quickly to the section where his father was mentioned. Jack was sure it was him. The age was right, and if this person was somehow connected to his mother, who else could it be? The report did not specify the connection, but grouped with Bessie Goddard, deceased.

But John Goddard was apparently not deceased. He had a current address of 947 Dorman Street, which Jack vaguely recognized as being on the near east side. He got out his folding map and looked it up in the index: F5-7. He found Column F at the top of the map and traced his finger down to Rows 5, 6 and 7. The 947 street address would put it between 9th and 10th streets on the east side of Dorman. Counting the grids, Jack estimated it was between two and three miles from his apartment.

He placed his empty glass on the bar's inner edge for the bartender to notice, and she soon brought him a fresh one. Yep, if anyone needed any more proof that God did not exist – at least not a caring God – here it was. Good-hearted, hard-working Bessie Mayfair Goddard was long dead while hard-drinking, irresponsible, unreliable John Goddard was apparently still alive and kicking. Where was the fucking cosmic justice in that?

Jack also noted that though it listed addresses for John Goddard going back years, the phone section always says 'none or unlisted.' That fact all by itself was like a stab in the heart. Jack didn't give a damn about John Goddard anymore, but he did care about Johnny Goddard, the boy in the distant past who secretly looked up his father's name every time the new phone books arrived. So John Goddard had a history of keeping a low profile. Maybe he was avoiding bill collectors, or other children he had abandoned.

Normally, Jack only had two drinks in any one bar the same night. After that, he either went home to drink his own liquor or he went to some other bar for a couple more. This time, he ordered a third, but told the bartender he was ready to pay up.

Back in his apartment 20 minutes later, Jack made himself a triple and sat at his big oak desk looking out at the city. He reminded himself that the things that actually mattered to him were all going quite well. So what if his father lived three miles away? It was a big city, and even if their paths happened to cross one day, they probably wouldn't even know it because they wouldn't recognize each other. Everything else was great. He was making more money at a job he enjoyed, he had an amazing apartment, and today he'd had lunch with Millie Jenkins! Who, against all odds, was not married!

Having lunch with Millie had been fantastic on all levels -- there was even a bit of playful flirtatiousness, though he knew it would not go beyond that -- and it had also helped him resolve any doubts about his secret writings about Molly. Despite their shared origin, Millie and Molly were now completely different people. One had nothing to do with the other. He was glad to have reinforced this in his mind because he was really enjoying writing as Molly on the site and getting such great feedback. Every day, there were comments, and there had been no hint among her readers -- even the new ones who were actual gay people -- that any of them doubted she was who she said she was. It was essential to Jack that the circumstances seem like something that could actually happen in the real world -- provided the right combination of people were involved.

He logged in as Molly, reading some new comments and making short replies. Then he posted the next chapter of her story.

While Jaye was away on her business trip, I really realized how much I liked having her around. Although she hadn't been there every day before, she'd never been gone two days in a row. I didn't even have her email address or phone number because she was almost always around and I took for granted that she'd simply be there. I could probably have gotten her contact info from one of the Roommates, but I didn't want to admit I wanted it, nor why (if I did want it) I didn't have it already.

I had put off thinking about whether this was a "relationship," and what that would/should mean. It had been simpler before the spankings -- no, it was the kissing. Had there been some other reason Jaye was spanking me every night, I could have told myself I was not emotionally involved with her. But kissing is much more intimate than merely letting someone slap your bare butt -- or even caress your butt. Few sexual acts are as intimate as kissing.

I found myself thinking about her all the time. I wanted her to be in front of me right now, smirking her smirk, one eyebrow raised sardonically behind those clunky Clark Kent glasses that I now knew she did not even need. Oh Jaye, I thought, you beautiful, mysterious, sweet person hidden somewhere inside that suit. My blossoming infatuation began to show because I could not seem to have a conversation without referencing Jaye. It became a joke, and even when I tried not to do it, I would eventually forget and mention her name again.

One morning as we were all getting ready for our days and sorting out whose turn it was next in the shower, Bea and I went down to the kitchen to get coffee.

"Sunshine," she said, "you be careful about Jaye now."

"Why?" I blurted. "Is she seeing someone else?"

"That ain't what I meant," Bea said, putting two fingers on the center of my chest. "That pretty heart of yours is just as exposed as the rest of you, and I don't want you to get yourself hurt. I love Jaye like a sister, but . . . well, just take it slow and don't let your heart get too far ahead of you."

"Shower's open!!" Kay yelled from the bathroom above.

The next night was the fourth night she'd been gone, and I was trying to remember if she said she'd be back in five days or six. I came in the front door and had my dress up around my head when I realized people were in the parlor, which was unusual -- and one of them was Jaye! I barely saw the other two people, a man and a woman, but it was pretty clear they had not expected me to rip off my dress and run naked into Jaye's arms. I imagined perhaps they had become lost in the neighborhood while on a self-guided tour of historic homes, and Jaye lured them inside to watch me get spanked. Oh, she was going to spank me in front of them! I just knew it!

Jaye stood up to greet me, but I literally leaped onto her, knocking her back down onto the couch. I buried my face in her neck, which smelled of Old Spice.

"Now, don't be rude, sweetheart," I admonished with my mouth full of her lower lip. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?"

Jaye's seen-it-all persona had entirely fallen away, and she giggled so girlishly it broke my heart with joy. "This is Jim," she sighed without taking her eyes from mine, "a client of mine, and his lovely wife, Katie. Guys, this is the amazing, incomparable Molly."

I whirled around to face them and put out my hand like a proper debutante. "Charmed!" I sang out enthusiastically in my fake girly-girl voice. "You're probably wondering why I'm naked. My girlfriend makes me do it. She has a lot of rules, and I obey them."

The girl seemed to recover quicker than the guy. "Now you've got me curious about those other rules," she said slyly.

"Jaye's a stickler for EVERYthing," I insisted. "And she spanks me when I get something wrong. Don't you, sweetheart?"

Jaye was struggling to catch up with me and just shrugged. "Well . . . "

"And I totally agree with that. I am so scatterbrained I forget stuff, and Jaye is training me to be more orderly. Every day, she gives me a list of chores, and if I don't do them all perfectly, she spanks me right in front of anyone who happens to be around. It's very embarrassing, but I think it's helping me remember stuff better. Don't you think so, hon?"

This last question I directed at Jaye, and after a minor pause, I saw the light bulb appear over her head. "It's for your own good, Molly," she said. "And speaking of your . . chores . . . did you remember to . . . pick up my dry cleaning?"

I slapped one hand to my mouth, pretending to be surprised but also hiding my involuntary smile. "Oh crap!" I said. I forgot to do that!" Darn, now you have to spank me right here, don't you, honey?"

"Rules are rules," she sighed.

"That's part of her self-improvement training for me," I explained to Jim and Katie. "She spanks me immediately after I forget something."

As I said this, I scrunched myself onto the short parlor sofa with my butt facing up on Jaye's lap.

"Okay, honey," I sang out, "I'm rea-dy."

SMACK came the first one. "But I think it's really helping."

SMACK. "Because I'm remembering more stuff now."

SMACK. "Boy, I used to be so forgetful."

SMACK. "And some nights, I--

SMACK. "Get everything right, so she--"

SMACK. "rewards me with oral sex instead."

SMACK. "Right in front of everyone, and I hope--"

SMACK. "If I work hard at it, that will happen--"

SMACK. "Every night."

After my 10th spank, I hopped back on my feet and kissed Jaye on the cheek. "Love talking to you," I called as I walked away, "but I should go mingle."

As I skipped out of the parlor, I heard Jim speak for the first time. "I want to be here the night she gets everything right." I glanced back to see Katie punching him in the arm.