Jake knew exactly where she was talking about. It was on the route he took to drive to the airport from the house. But he had certainly never noticed a brewery there before. “Over by the Shell station?” he asked, trying to pin it down a little closer.
“It’s behind the gas station,” she said. “Right next to the fish market.”
“No shit?” he asked, shaking his head. He had bought fish in that fish market many times.
“No shit,” she said. “It’s kind of a small building, just a shack, really. Not much in the way of signs out front.”
“And they sell the beer in bulk in there?”
“By the twelve pack or the case,” she assured him.
“Interesting,” he said. “And what time do they close?”
Two days later, at ten o’clock in the morning, Jake loaded three cases of Lighthouse Ale into the trunk of his BMW along with his Les Paul, his Fender Grand Concert, and a large suitcase full of belongings. It was Tuesday, and all of Jake’s overdub duties had been completed. There was no real need for him to be back in the studio until they started the mixing process in a week or so. And, since Bigg G and his band were finishing up their tour rehearsal in preparation for the upcoming release of the new CD, and since Jake had plans to join G and his boys for selected portions of that tour, it was a perfect opportunity for him to join up with them and rehearse his portion.
“You got everything?” asked Laura, who was going to the airport with him, but only so she could drive the car back to the Coos Bay house after he left. She still had overdubs she needed to do and could not be spared, but even if she could, the trip might have been a little awkward for her.
“I got it,” he said, slamming down the trunk lid. “And if I don’t, I’m rich enough to buy it.”
“Uh huh,” she said, giving him a knowing wifely look. “Do you have the keys to the house?”
He blanched a little. “Oh ... actually, I didn’t grab those,” he said. “Hang on.” He turned to go back inside, feeling a little embarrassment. It wasn’t the first time he had come home from Oregon without the house keys, after all.
Laura smiled sweetly at him. “Way ahead of you, sweetie,” she said, holding up the set of keys.
He smiled and reached to take them from her. She pulled them out of reach. “It’ll cost you a kiss,” she said.
“I gave you one hell of a kiss this morning after you showered,” he reminded her.
“Not that kind of a kiss,” she said. She pointed to her lips—the ones below her nose. “Up here this time.”
“Right,” he said. He gave her the kiss, letting it linger for a few moments, and then she gave him the keys.
“Anything else you need?” she asked.
“Anything else I really can buy,” he said. “Let’s hit it.”
They climbed into the car, Jake behind the wheel, and started the ten-minute drive to North Bend Municipal Airport, where Jake’s plane had just finished a maintenance cycle. It would have been quicker to fly back home private, but he had not been behind the controls in a while and was looking forward to taking to the sky.
“You’ll give Neesh my regrets that I couldn’t be there?” Laura asked softly.
“I will,” he agreed.
“Thanks,” she said. “And ... you’re not going to say anything to G about ... you know?”
He knew, or at least he thought he did. Laura had finally confessed the whole story to him about what had actually happened the day of Gordon and Neesh’s wedding. Neesh was bisexual as well as Tally, her best friend and maid of honor. And the two of them had apparently been carrying on a sexual affair with each other since they were teenagers (a thought which was more than a little hot when pondered). On the night of the wedding rehearsal, the two of them had confessed this relationship to Laura while they were drunk and Laura had, in turn, confessed her dalliances with the bartender and the groupies in South America. That had been what had led to Tally’s offer to service Laura on the day of the wedding in Neesh’s hotel room. But that had not been the whole story.
“So ... Neesh was there when Tally ate you out?” Jake had asked the night she told him this—by this point in the story, he had been sporting a respectable hard-on.
“Not at first,” Laura said. “You see ... uh ... Neesh had to go get cleaned up a little because ... uh ... Tally had ... had just done that to Neesh.”
Jake’s erection took a bit of a lurch at that point. “She ate Neesh out ... in front of you?”
“Yeah,” Laura said, her eyes shining at the memory. “While she was in her wedding dress.”
“Jesus, hon,” Jake whispered, in awe. “That’s hot.”
“I held Neesh’s hands for her while Tally did it,” she said. “You know ... so Neesh wouldn’t mess up Tally’s wedding hair when she ... you know ... came.”
“But you and Neesh didn’t ... you know...”
“No,” Laura assured him. “Neesh and I only touched hands in that hotel room. I ... I smelled her though.”
Another lurch down below. “She smelled good?”
“She smelled amazing,” Laura said. “Anyway, once Tally made her come, and Neesh went to clean herself up before the ceremony, that was when Tally offered to do me as well.”
“And that was when you called me to talk about it?”
“That’s right.”
“But ... Neesh didn’t stay out of the room the whole time?”
Laura shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “She came back just when Tally was really getting me worked up.”
“And she watched?”
Another nod. “She watched. And ... I have to tell you, Jake, it was really hot having her watch. I mean ... the whole thing was hot, but that was particularly hot. That was what finally pushed me over the edge.”
“Wow,” Jake said.
Less than a minute later, his pants had been shucked and he was buried inside of his wife. It had been some of the best sex they had ever had.
And her dishonesty toward him had been forgiven. After all, it had been understandable. She had not wanted him to know that his close friend’s new wife was a bisexual who had been carrying on a long-term affair with another woman, including on the very day of the wedding.
“Don’t worry,” Jake said now, as they drove through Coos Bay. “I won’t say a word to either of them.”
“I appreciate that,” Laura said, relief in her voice. “I know it’s a hell of a thing to keep secret, and I feel a little bad for G, but ... when you come down to it, it’s not our place to let G know about this. It’s Neesh’s.”
“I agree,” he said, patting her leg affectionately. “Still, it is going to feel a little awkward.”
“I can imagine,” he said.
They said no more about it for the rest of the drive.
Once at the airport, they loaded everything into Jake’s airplane and secured it. His plan was to fly to Oceano, spend the night at home, and then fly on to LA in the morning for the first rehearsal.
“I’d better get my flight plan put together and then get some fuel in this beast,” he told Laura.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll head on back then.”
He walked her to the car and they embraced warmly.
“Fly safe, Jake,” she told him. “And call me when you land.”
“Will do,” he assured her.
They kissed deeply and held each other tightly for a few moments before breaking apart and going their separate ways. Laura headed back to the house on the cliff. Jake prepared his plane to fly to another house on another cliff.
Chapter 14: It’s All About Matt
West Covina, California
September 7, 1995
It was ten o’clock on a muggy and warm late summer morning and, for the third time in the last six weeks, Jim Ramos pulled into the parking lot of the West Covina warehouse where Matt Tisdale and his band rehearsed. His first visit had been when he responded to a 911 call that had turned out to be Tisdale himself having an episode of symptomatic SVT. The second had been two weeks later, when he and Carla, his partner, had been requested back so Tisdale could properly thank them for saving his life. Tisdale’s gratitude had led Jim to a ten-day motor yacht trip with the guitarist and his band and a collection of rock and roll groupies who would (and did) do anything asked of them. Jim was still reeling from that trip, still in semi-disgusted, semi-shameful awe at the things he had witnessed (and done) on that little trip to Mexico and back. And now he was here again, only this time he was dressed in a pair of jeans and a tee shirt instead of his paramedic uniform and he was driving his eight-year-old Nissan instead of a Ford ambulance. Carla was not with him for this visit. She was back at work after her own two-week vacation and Las Vegas trip. Jim, however, was now on an extended, open-ended leave of absence that had been arranged by Matt Tisdale and his money. Jim was now the official “tour paramedic” for the Matt Tisdale North American tour. And today was his first day in his new assignment.