May in December Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Loose Id Titles by Dawn Flemington

  Dawn Flemington

  MAY IN DECEMBER

  Dawn Flemington

  www.loose-id.com

  May in December

  Copyright © December 2014 by Dawn Flemington

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Image/art disclaimer: Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.

  eISBN 9781623007478

  Editor: Larke Butler

  Cover Artist: Ginny Glass

  Published in the United States of America

  Loose Id LLC

  PO Box 806

  San Francisco CA 94104-0806

  www.loose-id.com

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id LLC’s e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  * * * *

  DISCLAIMER: Please do not try any new sexual practice, especially those that might be found in our BDSM/fetish titles without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Neither Loose Id LLC nor its authors will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in any of its titles.

  Dedication

  I dedicate this book to my friends Juli White, Dawn Crawford, and Marsha and Satin Postel. Thank you for all your encouraging words and positive thoughts. I love you all.

  And as always, I dedicate this book to my beloved Scott. Thank you for your undying faith in me and for being my cheerleader, even when I’m determined to be my worst enemy. I love you.

  Acknowledgment

  Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog

  The Jetsons

  Batman

  Spider-Man

  Superman

  Viagra

  Cialis

  Ricky Ricardo

  A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving

  Scooby-Doo

  Skittles

  M&M’S

  Chapter One

  “Bruce! You didn’t break for lunch again. Get your ass to my office now.”

  “Yes, dear.” Bruce ended the call and picked up his tools, which surrounded the snowmaking cannon, wondering again if working for his ex-wife was such a hot idea.

  Not that he wasn’t grateful. After twenty-five years of employment, his old firm had sold out. The company underwent a major overhaul, and the new management decided to take a more youthful approach. Unfortunately, Bruce didn’t fit the fresh image, and forced early retirement became a reality six months ago.

  It was through their two adult children, Kelley and Kerri, that Gail found out about his predicament. She and her current husband, Warren Windom, had hired him as maintenance for their golf and ski resort located on the outskirts of Gaylord. The job had its merits—his department was always busy repairing something, and the job brought in a decent paycheck. However, the downside was spending the major part of his week with a well-meaning yet domineering ex-wife, who made it her business to watch out for him, whether he wanted it or not.

  After washing the grease from his hands, Bruce left the maintenance garage and headed up to the resort office. The secretary’s chair was empty, but the adjacent door stood wide open. Behind a large cherrywood desk, a plump woman sat with a phone to her ear. She glanced up and waved her bejeweled hand, motioning for him to sit. As he entered the office, Gail’s two corgis—Gingersnap and Snickerdoodle—bolted out from under her desk and danced around Bruce.

  “Yes. I’ll expect that holiday shipment no later than Friday. Good-bye.” Gail slid a deli sandwich across the desk and leaned forward in her leather-padded chair, her full attention on him. “Bruce, you haven’t been clocking out for lunch.” She licked her lips and tore open her own deli sub. “You know how I feel about that.”

  Bruce rolled his shoulders with indifference. “I haven’t had an appetite.”

  “You have to eat. Keep your strength up and all that crap.” Gail spoke around a mouthful of food. “Besides, the wedding is coming up in less than seven weeks. We need to make sure you’re healthy enough to walk our daughter down the aisle.”

  He unwrapped his ham-and-cheese sandwich and bit down, ignoring the two pair of brown doggy eyes following his every movement. Leave it to Gail to cause drama where there was none. “I’m doing fine.”

  “To hell you are.” She glared at him over her rectangular reading glasses. “You’ve lost at least seventy pounds, and on your six-foot-four-inch frame, it looks terrible, like a refugee from one of those starving countries over in Africa.”

  Bruce sighed. His weight loss was not that severe, though it had rid him of his beer gut. “Anything else wrong with my appearance?”

  “Now that you mention it, yes. Your eyes have dark circles underneath, and the gray hair at your temples makes you look much older than you are. And what’s up with the beard? You’re like somebody’s grandpa.”

  Bruce tugged at his scraggly beard and declined to answer. “The circles are because I can’t sleep at night. The hair”—Bruce brushed at his hairline by his ears—“makes me look distinguished.”

  Gail snorted. “Says who?”

  “Robert.”

  At the sound of the man’s name, both corgis whined and placed their heads on their paws. Gail’s stern features softened. “Hun, Robert has been gone for two years.” When Bruce did not answer, she reached over the desk and touched his hand. “I know there’ve been many changes in your life recently. I understand.”

  “You understand? I don’t think so.” Bruce shoved her hand away and tossed his sandwich aside on the desk. “Three years ago, our children moved out of the nest. Two years ago, my partner of fifteen years died of cancer. This year, I lost my career, and I’m packing and moving out of a house I grew up in. What’s left?”

  “What’s left, indeed.” Gail brushed sandwich crumbs off her lips, causing the matte red color to smear off on her fingertips. “Think about it. You have a new job. You have a chance for a new residence, with no ghosts. Our son will be graduating U of M soon, our daughter is getting married, and you still have me for a friend.” She carefully wiped her chubby fingers on a napkin. “That’s a lot to be thankful for.”

  “I’m than
kful for those things. It’s just…” Bruce bowed his head.

  “What? Come on, now. Don’t clam up. Keeping things inside isn’t good for your health.”

  “I’ve never felt so utterly alone.” Bruce rose from his chair and stared out the vertical blinds at the overcast skies and barren trees. “It’s like forever winter in my life. Cold, dreary, and barren.”

  “Stop.” Gail walked around the desk to sit on the corner. “You’re depressing me.”

  “Well, you asked.”

  “So you’re living in December.” Gail leaned back thoughtfully while the short little bodies of her dogs danced at her dangling feet. “What you need is the fresh breath of May to fill your hungry heart.”

  Bruce shook his head. “Oh, no. Don’t even go there.”

  “Go where?”

  “Suggesting I need a love life.”

  “I was thinking more of a new life resolution.” Gail crossed her arms, pushing her ample breasts forward. “However, you bring up an interesting point. What better way to get back in the game of life than to have a new love interest?”

  The mere thought of dating again set his teeth on edge. The pool of men was dwindling in his age bracket, not to mention all the time and effort it would take to invest in another relationship. “I can’t.”

  “Why not? You know Robert wouldn’t want you to live the rest of your days alone and withdrawn.”

  “I know.” The thought of Robert panged his heart, but not nearly as strongly as it had in the past. Bruce slid his hands into his back pockets with a loud exhale. “But I’m too old, weary, and have nothing to give.”

  Gail stuck her tongue between her lips and blew. “Pishaw. You have plenty to offer a potential partner. You have to want to get off this melancholy merry-go-round and get your”—she swiveled her arms in the opposite direction of her hefty derriere—“groove back. And what better time to start? The holidays are almost upon us. Everybody is searching for someone to be with. I say make it an early New Year’s resolution. Start living again.”

  Gingersnap and Snickerdoodle woofed their agreement.

  Bruce knew his ex’s intentions were good, but he did not want to deal with things of that nature at work. He noted the clock on the wall with much relief. “Lunch is over. Time to get back to work.” He grabbed his sandwich and, without a good-bye, rushed out the door.

  Gail called after him, her voice loud enough to travel into the hallway. “Tell me you’ll think about what I’ve said.”

  Bruce did not reply.

  * * * *

  After work, Bruce knew there was enough daylight left for a brief excursion down to the park adjacent to his soon-to-be apartment. Though it was a few weeks away from Thanksgiving, it had yet to snow in northern Michigan, so his trek on the path through the wooded area between his home and the park was clear.

  The park was a peaceful place, somewhere he could sit and reflect on his life. Most days mulling things over seemed to help lift the great burden from his heart. Other days, like today, his soul became one with the gray winter skies and dead brown grass.

  Bruce carried a cup of coffee and some stale bread, a ritual developed when he was hired at the Otsego Oasis Resort. Without thinking, he chose his favorite bench near the pond and settled in. After a few sips of the steaming black liquid, he took stock of his surroundings, searching for the odd regulars who populated the park. To the right of him, a couple of women watched their children explore a playscape. Across the pond, he recognized the orange-hooded jogger who regularly ran the fitness trail at the same time every day. She passed a dog walker, who was currently tangled in the leashes of at least six canines of various sizes. Bruce chuckled. He had seen the clumsy dog walker numerous times before. From the way the dogs dragged him around the park, it seemed as if the dogs were taking him for a walk.

  Honking drew his attention as a gaggle of noisy Canadian geese waddled by. One goose straggled way behind the others, searching, like he was lost. Robert had once told him the creatures were extremely devoted to one another and mated for life. When one goose died, the survivor would separate himself from the rest of the flock to grieve. Within time, he would rejoin his group, and if he wasn’t too old, would choose another mate.

  Bruce tore off a huge chunk of bread and threw it to the lone goose. “I feel your pain, buddy.”

  The fowl gobbled up the food and left.

  Leaning back, Bruce sighed. Robert. The ache of losing him faded with each passing day, his grief replaced by a longing for normalcy. But what was normal anymore? So much had changed in such a short time that he had no idea how to live life again. He was too old to start over, though fate had forced his hand. He found himself wanting to take comfort in what was familiar, but everything that was, was gone. He knew it was time for him to lay aside the guilt, the broken dreams, and move on with life, yet how could he do it?

  Bruce tilted his head up to the heavens and closed his eyes. “Robert, I know you can hear me. Is Gail right? Should I try to make a resolution to get out more…to m-meet someone new? I want to start living life again, but there are so many memories.” The wind picked up, his heartfelt plea blown across the air currents. “Help me. Guide me. Show me a sign. Anything.”

  “Hogan! You come back here this instant.”

  Opening his eyes, Bruce turned in the direction of the frantic voice. Bounding toward him was a huge brindle-colored boxer, its red leash dragging behind. The dog jumped up, knocking the coffee cup from Bruce’s hands. Cold paws landed on his shoulders, and a wet tongue proceeded to lick his nose and cheeks.

  Bruce laughed, the sound foreign to his ears. “Well, hello to you too.” He scratched the dog behind upright ears. “Are you Hogan?” he asked the boxer.

  The dog snorted and wagged his stumpy tail.

  “Hogan, you naughty dog. Come here.” Yips and yaps followed the breathless voice.

  Bruce glanced over his shoulder. As the dog walker approached, the other dogs tangled about his feet enough to cause him to stumble.

  With leash in hand, Bruce suppressed his grin and strolled over to the hapless man. “I think this fella escaped from you.”

  The young man glanced up from the jumble under his feet. “Oh, sir, I’m so sorry. He didn’t hurt you, did he? Hogan’s a good, but stubborn dog.”

  “And handsome too.” Bruce watched the dog walker struggle to untwist the leashes. “Here, let me give you a hand.”

  Between the two of them, they unraveled the rambunctious dogs in no time. Once everything was sorted out, Bruce passed Hogan’s leash over to the young man. When their fingers touched, a warm, liquid feeling buzzed up Bruce’s arm and pooled in his groin. What the hell?

  “T-thank you.” The young man glanced up through shaggy bangs, his hazel eyes lit with stunned surprise. “Mr. Deirmann?”

  Bruce paused, squinting a bit. The voice sounded familiar, but the face…? It took a couple of moments for recognition to set in. “Jorry Nelson?”

  “You remembered me.”

  Bruce’s smile was genuine. “How could I forget?” Gangly little Jorry had been a regular fixture in his home when his children were growing up, trailing after them like a lost, needy puppy. The last time Bruce had seen him was at Kelley’s graduation party, almost four years ago. Checking out Jorry now, he stood shoulder height to Bruce. Gone was the gawkiness, yet he retained the aura of a misfit. His dusty blond hair was in desperate need of a trim, and his brilliant smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  “I’ve seen you walking the dogs every day in the park.” Bruce nodded toward the panting dogs. “I didn’t know it was you; otherwise, I’d have said hello.”

  “Same for me. It’s good to see you, Mr. Deirmann.”

  “Call me Bruce.”

  “Okay…Bruce.” From the way Jorry hesitated, the name didn’t fall easily from his lips. “How are Kelley and Kerri?” he asked, his arms jerking with the dogs’ movements. “Do they live around here?”

  “Kelley is finishin
g up his last year at the University of Michigan with a bachelor’s degree in biophysics. Kerri lives in Traverse City and is the manager of a dental office. She’s getting married around Christmas Eve.”

  “Wow.” Jordy whistled low and shook his head. “They’ve done good for themselves. You must be proud.”

  “I am.”

  “How are you and Mr. Bennett doing?”

  “Robert died a couple years ago from pancreatic cancer.” Bruce stated matter-of-factly. Which surprised him, because he never thought he’d reach a point where the pain was dull enough he could talk about the death and not feel something. Time to move on.

  “Oh, Mr. Deirm—Bruce, I’m so sorry.” Jorry dropped his chin, his voice buttered in sympathy. “I-I didn’t know.”

  “It’s okay.” Bruce laid his hand on Jorry’s shoulder. It felt thin through the black hoodie. “Not many people knew. It happened fast.”

  Jorry glanced up and studied Bruce’s face, as if he was reassuring himself he hadn’t committed an unpardonable sin. “Are you still in the house on Treetop Street?”

  “I’m in the middle of moving.” Bruce pointed at the fourth floor of the apartment building on the other side of the park. “I’ll be living there by the new year.”

  “Cool. Nice view of the park from there.”

  “I guess that’s why they call it the Parkview Apartments.”

  Both men chuckled. When the laughter ended, they stood together in a slight awkwardness that only time apart could create.

  “Oh, and it’s close to the Otsego Oasis Golf and Ski Resort,” Bruce added to keep the conversation going.

  “Lucky you.” Jorry kicked a piece of brown sod at the edge of the walkway. “I’m no good at those sports.”

  Bruce smiled. “Me either.” The admittance brought timid relief to Jorry’s eyes.

  The dogs began to whine and whimper, tugging at their leashes and jerking Jorry down the path. Bruce followed, not ready to leave Jorry’s side. “But enough about me. Tell me about yourself. Do you live here in Gaylord?”