Nobody

KYFriedTXN

I'd woken up before dawn, eating breakfast staring out the dining room window, then did the dishes and started cleaning the house. Dust, wipe down the stove, wipe down the sinks, clean the bathtub, vacuum, sweep then mop and wax the linoleum, clean the windows, sweep off the decks, do laundry, fold and put away what was clean.

By the time the cable guy rank the door I was napping on the couch. He seemed happy that the cable I'd run worked fine and appreciated the fact I'd wired the house for cable already. He complimented me on the job, stood on the deck and smoked a cigarette while we chatted about nothing. He'd mentioned the Silver Star license plate I had, probably hoping to get a story out of it, but I'd changed the subject smoothly.

After he left I wrote the phone number on the white board over the wall cradle phone charger, then turned on the television. The channel guide had a ton of channels.

Did you know there was like eight HBO channels and a channel completely devoted to cartoons? When had that happened?

Movies and TV shows I'd never heard of were all across the on-TV guide channel.

When I saw CNN I snorted.

Lying war-crime fabricated fuck heads.

I'd been interviewed by CNN during the Gulf War. They'd chopped up my interview to make me look like some kind of deranged psychopath lusting for the blood of unwashed Muslim children.

My mother had been horrified.

Over the years I'd met Ted Turner at a dinner for one of his or his wife's pet causes. I flat out told him I'd rather have an MRE packed up my ass with a jackhammer than give him a single goddamn dime after the shit his precious CNN pulled on me.

Pru had apologized, quickly pulling me away, and telling me that I was out of line.

We'd never gotten another invitation.

I'd never donated a single dime to any cause he, his wife, or CNN championed.

Curious, I tuned to the TV to a cartoon channel and sat there and watched. The one with the sponge and the squid made me laugh my ass off. Childish, maybe, but it still was good for a giggle.

I was sitting in the front room, in jeans and boots and my cowboy hat, just watching whatever caught my eye, when I heard gravel crunch in the front. I stood up and looked, seeing Miss Lily-Rylee pulling in. When she got out she was wearing a white wife-beater with targets on the front of each breast and another short skirt, this one higher than the mid-thigh one she'd been wearing yesterday. She'd topped it off with bright pink Hello-Kitty tennis shoes and had her hair pulled back in a ponytail again.

Just seeing her made my mouth go dry.

She bounced up onto the deck and went to knock when I opened the door in front of her. She stood there for a second, her hand still held out to knock, her mouth open.

"You're late, Miss Lily-Rylee," I growled at her, tilting my head to stare down at her.

Her nipples went poinky.

"Uh," she said, staring up at me. She looked at my chest, then up to me eyes and seemed to freeze. She licked her lips, the point of her tongue just barely visible.

"I've been waiting for you," I kept my voice low, growling, doing my best to imitate Tony.

She swallowed, still staring at me. She nodded, just barely, her eyes still locked on mine.

"All morning," I growled. "By. My. Self."

She gave a low moan and made a little swaying motion, her breathing picking up.