CH8: The Smell of Summer (Sean + Myra)
Oct 20, 2019 12:55:27 GMT -6
Post by Captain Ameijin! on Oct 20, 2019 12:55:27 GMT -6
A cloud of vapor billowed from the edge of her lips and tumbled over the balcony. The mesquite smell of a backyard barbecue overwhelmed the scent of chlorine that climbed the hotel from the swimming pool below. Sean wrinkled his nose as the fumes fought for supremacy, unable to decide which was more obnoxious.
“Not exactly the smell I expected,” he confessed, waving his hand in front of his nose. “What is that supposed to be anyhow? A thousand dead cattle sizzling on the grill?”
“Beef jerky,” Myra answered, taking a deep, regretful breath. “So you’re not too far off.”
“How’s it taste?”
“About as good as it smells,” she answered, pocketing her vape pen for what Sean hoped would be a good long while. “Disgusting.”
“What could’ve possibly made ye think that was a good idea?”
“Not something I ever wanted to hear out of you,” Myra quipped, rolling her eyes. “Had a nickel for every bad idea that’s ever popped into your head then I’d be wealthy enough to retire to a remote island in the ocean and live out the rest of my days in comfort.”
“Fair enough,” Sean yielded with a chuckle. “I’ll forgive ye just this once.”
“Mmmhmm.”
The pair peered out over the balcony in silence. Their elbows rested against the freshly repainted railings, watching children play a game of water polo while their parents lay in the sun. Older folks rested their weary backs against the jetstream of a hot tub that sat at the far edge of the pool. From where they were standing, everything seemed so… normal.
“Catch the news recently?” Myra was the first to break the silence, adjusting her sunhat to avoid it being blown away by a soft artificial breeze.
“Aye.” Sean adjusted his shades to better hide his eyes. “What a goddamn mess he’s made of things.”
“No kidding,” Myra grumbled, biting her lip until the taste of iron trickled down her throat. She wiped away the blood with the back of her hand, staining it the same shade of red as her lipstick. “It’s just… with a name like Cain, I really should’ve seen this coming, yeah?”
“Like the guy who beat his brother over the head with a rock?” Sean scratched the back of his neck. “Cain’s a pretty fitting name, all things considered. We were practically doomed to his sudden-but-inevitable betrayal from the start.”
“...and whoever kills him shall be avenged sevenfold,” she muttered under her breath. “Small price to pay.”
“Not much use thinking about all that now.” He paused and gave her the widest grin he could muster. “We’ve got a wedding to plan after all.”
“Just like old times,” she mused, her expression softening. “The more things change, the more they stay the same.”
“Haven’t thought about that wedding in some time now,” he confessed, pulling his shades further down the bridge of his nose. “Say… do ye still carry those pictures around with ye?”
“The ones from that vintage camera I found on the cheap at an estate sale?” She thought about it for a second. “Think I do, actually. Should still be in an old shoebox aboard the Menaulion somewhere. Want me to dig them up for you?”
“Give it to me straight: how did I look back then?”
“Handsome, though that tux wasn’t doing you any favors…”
“I knew it.” He raised his arms in surrender. “White tuxedos look terrible on guys as pale as me. Bad decision on my part.”
“Still better than that dress I wore. Really should’ve gotten fitted instead of purchasing a dress online and hoping for the best. It’s so very obvious that I stuffed my bra to fit into the one I bought…”
“Hah! I called that one from a mile away,” Sean howled, quickly settling down as he met Myra’s glare. “Sorry, sorry. Just had a bet about that. That guy owes me twenty bucks, assuming he’s still kicking around somewhere.”
“If it hadn’t happened so long ago, I’d be furious with you for making a bet like that.”
“Tone in yer voice says ye’re mad at me regardless.”
“Maybe a little.” Myra forced her eyebrows to furrow, but she couldn’t keep up the act for long. “It’s uh… it’s nice to talk like this again, you know? Like friends.”
“Been too long.”
“Yeah.”
“Not exactly the smell I expected,” he confessed, waving his hand in front of his nose. “What is that supposed to be anyhow? A thousand dead cattle sizzling on the grill?”
“Beef jerky,” Myra answered, taking a deep, regretful breath. “So you’re not too far off.”
“How’s it taste?”
“About as good as it smells,” she answered, pocketing her vape pen for what Sean hoped would be a good long while. “Disgusting.”
“What could’ve possibly made ye think that was a good idea?”
“Not something I ever wanted to hear out of you,” Myra quipped, rolling her eyes. “Had a nickel for every bad idea that’s ever popped into your head then I’d be wealthy enough to retire to a remote island in the ocean and live out the rest of my days in comfort.”
“Fair enough,” Sean yielded with a chuckle. “I’ll forgive ye just this once.”
“Mmmhmm.”
The pair peered out over the balcony in silence. Their elbows rested against the freshly repainted railings, watching children play a game of water polo while their parents lay in the sun. Older folks rested their weary backs against the jetstream of a hot tub that sat at the far edge of the pool. From where they were standing, everything seemed so… normal.
“Catch the news recently?” Myra was the first to break the silence, adjusting her sunhat to avoid it being blown away by a soft artificial breeze.
“Aye.” Sean adjusted his shades to better hide his eyes. “What a goddamn mess he’s made of things.”
“No kidding,” Myra grumbled, biting her lip until the taste of iron trickled down her throat. She wiped away the blood with the back of her hand, staining it the same shade of red as her lipstick. “It’s just… with a name like Cain, I really should’ve seen this coming, yeah?”
“Like the guy who beat his brother over the head with a rock?” Sean scratched the back of his neck. “Cain’s a pretty fitting name, all things considered. We were practically doomed to his sudden-but-inevitable betrayal from the start.”
“...and whoever kills him shall be avenged sevenfold,” she muttered under her breath. “Small price to pay.”
“Not much use thinking about all that now.” He paused and gave her the widest grin he could muster. “We’ve got a wedding to plan after all.”
“Just like old times,” she mused, her expression softening. “The more things change, the more they stay the same.”
“Haven’t thought about that wedding in some time now,” he confessed, pulling his shades further down the bridge of his nose. “Say… do ye still carry those pictures around with ye?”
“The ones from that vintage camera I found on the cheap at an estate sale?” She thought about it for a second. “Think I do, actually. Should still be in an old shoebox aboard the Menaulion somewhere. Want me to dig them up for you?”
“Give it to me straight: how did I look back then?”
“Handsome, though that tux wasn’t doing you any favors…”
“I knew it.” He raised his arms in surrender. “White tuxedos look terrible on guys as pale as me. Bad decision on my part.”
“Still better than that dress I wore. Really should’ve gotten fitted instead of purchasing a dress online and hoping for the best. It’s so very obvious that I stuffed my bra to fit into the one I bought…”
“Hah! I called that one from a mile away,” Sean howled, quickly settling down as he met Myra’s glare. “Sorry, sorry. Just had a bet about that. That guy owes me twenty bucks, assuming he’s still kicking around somewhere.”
“If it hadn’t happened so long ago, I’d be furious with you for making a bet like that.”
“Tone in yer voice says ye’re mad at me regardless.”
“Maybe a little.” Myra forced her eyebrows to furrow, but she couldn’t keep up the act for long. “It’s uh… it’s nice to talk like this again, you know? Like friends.”
“Been too long.”
“Yeah.”