Asking for Trouble 2
“All right, all right, I’m coming.” Thomas called out toward the living room door.
“Oh it’s you.” He said as his shoulders fell somewhat.
“Expecting someone else?” Riker asked smiling.
“Yeah, two naked ferengi dancers and a Klingon cross dresser.”
“Let’s go out for a drink.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to talk to someone.” Riker said, “Deanna and I had a fight.”
“About what?”
“Stupid shit.”
“Your stupid shit or her stupid shit?”
“Let’s go for a drink.”
“It’s too damn cold to go out.” Thomas said, “I swear this is the coldest night ever, it’s the coldest in Alaskan history. I was outside earlier and I damned near froze my hands off.”
Riker stepped through the doorway. “You have anything to drink?”
“Is Alaska cold in the winter time?” Thomas replied with a sly smile, and a boyish glitter to his eye.
Thomas poured two drinks, and both men sat at the table. “So what did you and Deanna fight about?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Riker answered, downing the entire contents of the glass down his throat.
“You said you did.”
“I lied.” He stated simply, refilling his glass. “You sure you don’t want to go out to a bar?”
“No, it’s too damn cold outside.” Thomas said, chugging down his drink as well. “I’m glad you came over though. So what did the two of you fight about, Deanna catch you in bed with another woman?”
“Nope.”
“Another man?”
Riker looked at his brother in confusion and then rolled his eyes. “Hell no.”
“Didn’t think so, but I had to ask.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why in the hell did you have to ask?”
“Because Alaska is weird, it isn’t anything like it was when I grew up here.”
“How so?” Riker asked, pouring himself another drink.
“I was supposed to have a date tonight, but, now get this---“ he said leaning closer into his brother. “She, meaning Synthia sends me a communiqué that states, “She can’t make it, not tonight, not now, not ever. She heard that I was married and then she starts ranting and raving and calling me a son of a bitch and a few other colorful words, really started to piss me off.”
“So are you?”
“Am I what?”
“A son of a bitch?”
“Well of course.” Thomas chuckled, “But I sure as the hell am not married.” Thomas got up from the table, brought back a bottle of lemon juice, and sat it on the table. “Synthia plucked her eyebrows, I don’t know why in the hell she did that, and it made her look like she was thinking about something serious all of the time. So what did the two of you fight about?”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” Riker reiterated. “What in the hell is that for?” He asked referring to the lemon juice.
“Put some in your bourbon.”
“No.”
“Oh come on, it’s good.”
“No it’s not.”
“I met this woman in town the other day, and she told me about it. She said to put a teaspoon of lemon juice in bourbon, so I did. It was good.”
“It was good, or she was good?”
“It was good.” Thomas answered, pouring a capful of lemon juice into his shot of bourbon, “She of course was married, but hell who cares if their married or not. I don’t.”
“My wife is married, you’d better care.”
“She doesn’t count.” Thomas stated, making a twisted face from the lemon juice in the bourbon.
“What the hell does that mean?” Riker asked, snatching bourbon bottle from his brother and filling up his glass.
“I mean I used to fantasize about Deanna. I used to dream about her all the time, and then all of a sudden I stopped. Damn, those were awesome dreams; she had the best-looking ass, she still does actually. . .”
“Hey!” Riker cut in. “Do you mind?”
Thomas snapped his head towards his brother, “I’m sure the last thing you want to hear about is sex.” Thomas shrugged, “Who knows . . .your little fishing boat may be in dry land for a while.”
“My fishing boat is none of your damn business, and you’re not talking about sex, you’re talking about my wife’s ass.”
“I’m used to being docked.”
“You’re about to be decked, if you don’t stop talking about Deanna.”
“Okay, I swear this is the last time I’ll bring this up. What in the hell did you and Deanna fight about?”
“Will you shut up about that fight?”
“I will when you wipe that Deanna and I had a fight look off your face.” Thomas said, pouring a capful of lemon juice into Riker’s glass. “This will help get rid of it. Try this.”
Riker downed the shot of bourbon down his throat, his face twisted, and Thomas smiled at Riker reaction. “Damn, that’s disgusting, Tom.”
Thomas broke out in a full laugh, when the laughter faded, Riker asked, “Remember, Betsy Ryan?”
“In third grade, that Betsy Ryan?” Thomas asked, his mind recalling the skinny, blonde with knobby knees, freckles and buckteeth. “Of course I remember her. Why?”
“I saw her the other day.”
“Where?”
“At the market. She’s got grand-kids, knobby kneed, freckled faced little-grand children.”
“Damn, she’s a grand-mother?” Thomas said shaking his head, he stood to his feet and made his way to the couch. “We’re getting old, Riker.”
“Are your neighbors nice?”
“How in the hell would I know, I don’t know my neighbors.” Thomas said, wondering just what his half-drunken brother was getting at.
“You’re the one who said you were old. All old people know their neighbors.” Riker laughed.
“You’re drunk.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m a mess.” Riker laughed making his way to the couch. Suddenly Riker looked down and lying on the floor in front of Thomas was Virgil, Tom’s dog, and perhaps one of the ugliest dogs Riker has ever seen.
“Are you sure Virgil is a puppy?” Riker asked, picking up the small dog and examines it. “He looks old.” The small animal that Riker would have sworn was a genetic mistake looked directly at him and wagged its three haired tail. “Hi, whatever in the hell you are.”
“Don’t make fun of my dog, Will.” Thomas answered looking up towards his brother.
“He still shit on the puppy pads?”
“Can I tell you something?”
“Yeah.”
“I got Virgil because he was so unattractive, and just plain god awful ugly, but I’ve grown used to him.”
“It’s pissing on me, Thomas!” Riker shrieked, immediately putting the puppy down on the floor.
“They do that when they are scared.” Thomas shrugged, taking another mouthful of bourbon.
“That little bastard didn’t look scared to me, he looked like he was happy, and all the while he was pissing on me.” Riker said, his face full of disgust. “I’m going to go wash off.” Riker walked into the kitchen and began to wash himself off the spot on his leg with a cloth. “You sure you don’t want to go out to a pub?”
“I’m not going out with anyone that smells like dog piss.” Thomas yelled out towards his brother. Then he began to mumble to himself. “That dog piss freeze on you, then you know it’s cold outside.”
“Hey, I’ve got a message.” Thomas stumbled to his feet. “Yeah.” He said, sitting down to the vid-screen.
“Thomas is Will there?” The image of Deanna appeared on the viewer.
“Yeah, but he’s wiping dog crap off of his leg.”
“It’s not dog crap.” Riker sounded from the other room, throwing the towel in the garbage, he made his way towards Thomas and stated through clenched teeth, “It’s dog piss.”
“Will?” Deanna stated his name in almost a whisper.
“Yeah.” The tone of his voice matched hers.
“You don’t mind eating late do you?”
“No.” he whispered, he can’t help his mind from thinking just how truly beautiful her face was.
“I’m cooking supper if you want to come home.” He voice sounds nervous and unsteady.
“I’d like to come home.”
“He can’t drive the land rover. He’s drunk.” Thomas butted in, his eyes bloodshot and his voice slurred.
Deanna laughed at that, “It figures.” She said, “Thomas would you like to eat dinner with us?”
“Me?” Thomas asked looking from Will to Deanna and then back towards Will. “Sure. Can Virgil come?”
“Hell no.” Riker answered a little too fast.
“I’ll be over there in about fifteen minutes to pick you two up, all right?”
“Deanna?” Riker stated, looking at the vid-screen. “I’m sorry for being such a jackass.”
She didn’t say anything she simply smiled, and he knew that he was immediately forgiven. “Thomas, you can bring Virgil.” She said and then the screen faded to black.
“So what did the two of you fight about?” Thomas asked, as he looked under the couch for the small animal.
“It was stupid really.”
“I understand stupid.” Thomas said, standing to his feet. “My best drinking buddy is stupid.”
“She was talking to a fellow doctor today and I got a little jealous, all right.”
“Who? Couldn’t be an old boyfriend, because there’s none around here, but me. And the Gods know I’m harmless.”
“Harmless, my ass. You’re dangerous.” Riker laughed, “And also insane. You’re putting a damn coat on your dog, for Christ’s sake.”
“It’s too cold for Virgil without a coat.”
“That's pathetic, why in the hell do you do pathetic things all the time Tom? Anyone ever tell you you're pathetic?”
“Who was it?”
“Just some, handsome, tall, young, sophisticated jack-ass.”
“You kick his butt for putting the moves on your wife?”
“No, Deanna would have kicked me out for good for doing something stupid like that.”
“So everything’s fine now?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“You still drunk?” Thomas asked.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Deanna still a lousy cook?”
“Yeah.” Riker smiled.
“The drunker we are the better it tastes, right? So we take Virgil over to dinner and feed him under the table if we have the misfortune of sobering up.” Thomas stated, his blue eyes glittering with mischief. After a moment of silence, Riker displayed the same mischievous smile.
“You get the bottle.” Riker said, “I’ll get Virgil’s hat.”
THE END