Page 8 of The Rule of 3

“Zoë? Is that you?” Since Zoë was an only child, she wondered who else her mother thought it might be. This did not bode well for the conversation.

“Yes, Mom. Listen, I’ll just cut to the chase. Did you and Dad just come into some money or something?” Zoë listened while her mother began to giggle uncontrollably.

Hiccupping and chirruping, her mother replied finally, “We sure did! We hit the casino in Reno… That has a nice ring to it doesn’t it? Casino in Reno… A Reno casino!” She began to hum a little tune. “Your daddy hit the jackpot and it was in the casooni in Rooney.” More giggles.

“I see, well I guess that explains things. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking care of things,” Zoë said seriously. “It means a lot to me.” This went a long way in Zoë’s mind toward feeling more charitable toward her parents now that they’d stepped up like mature adults finally. At least in one respect.

“Uh-huh… we’re taking care of the butterflies now. Is that you, Zoë?”

Zoë had a sneaking suspicion that her mother had partaken recently in either some magic mushrooms or some extra strong cannabis, and they weren’t going to get much further with this conversation, so she said, “Be careful on the road, Mom. I miss you. Have fun. Bye now.”

The last thing Zoë heard was her mother giggling.At least she’s happy.

What Zoë did not know was that the jackpot her father had hit in Reno was a thousand-dollar win on the dollar slot machines. His winnings were gone in less than a day to things they could ingest, snort, and smoke.

Zoë couldn’t deny that having the mortgage and the student loan paid made her feel a lot better about her life. She’d expected to be paying on those for years to come on a piddly little kindergarten teacher’s salary.

So, she decided to put some needed repairs into her little house. She’d always found it curious that her parents ran a hardware store and never did any DIY repairs around the place. Perhaps they simply didn’t care about it and were just marking their time until they could retire and have some fun. Anyway, she took a summer job giving swimming lessons again at the rec center and decided to put away every spare penny so she could fix up the house.

On a hot and sticky Friday evening late in June, she arrived home to find a crew of men loading up a truck in her driveway and getting ready to leave. She pulled up behind them, blocking them in and stormed out of her car.

“What’s going on here? I didn’t make any arrangements to have workers here today,” she crabbed at them.

The four men, splattered head to toe with paint, all smiled at her, ignoring her angry words. One guy offered his hand and said, “It’s been great doing business with you, Ms. Deliban. Looks beautiful, don’t it?” He did a quarter turn toward her house and regarded it proudly. The house had been returned to its formerly beautiful appearance of brilliant white with cheerful blue trim. Zoë remembered it had looked like that when she was a little girl, and she’d always been delighted with her pretty house. Over the years, however, the blue trim had faded to blah and the white paint began to peel off of the wood siding. It made her sad to come home to that day in and day out.

Narrowing her eyes, she asked, “What do you mean ‘doing business’ with me? I didn’t hire you, although,” she softened her voice and turned to their work, “it looks like you guys did a fantastic job. The house looks amazing.”

“The credit card payment cleared just a few minutes ago—as soon as we finished, the office ran it through. It’s been a pleasure. Now, if you’ll let us out, we can all get home to our families for supper.”

“Oh, uh… right. Sorry.” Zoë didn’t have much choice other than to move her car, so she climbed back in and then rolled down her window asking, “Do you have a business card so I can call your office, please?”

“Sure, ma’am, but they just closed and won’t back open again until Monday.” He produced a card and handed it to her.

“Of course they won’t,” she chuckled. She backed her car away and waved as they drove off. Once she was parked in her garage, she picked the card up off the seat next to her, thinking it was face down. But when she flipped it over, she could see it was just blank white card stock on both sides.

What the…?

Tanner saw the changes in Zoë right away. She seemed to breathe easier and had a happier look on her face when he noticed her going about her business around town. She’d had her hair professionally styled, though it was still long and lovely, and she definitely had some new clothes. He especially loved catching sight of her wearing a light sundress that showed off her toned body.

Since it was summertime, and she wasn’t teaching, Tanner didn’t want to chance leaving flowers on her doorstep in the heat of the day, so he suspended his weekly deliveries for a while. He didn’t like that one bit because he feared she would think he’d lost interest. So, on Friday evening a couple of weeks after her house was painted, he hopped in his car and headed to her house to see once more if she’d talk to him.

Oh, the sadness that ensued.

Tanner approached her house—which now had some pretty flowering pots lining the front walkway up to her door. His heart dropped out of his chest when he saw her walking toward a car in her driveway. She was smiling happily with her hand laced into the crook of a man’s arm.

Who is that creep, and what is he doing with my woman?Tanner slowed down enough to grab his phone and snap a photo of the guy with Zoë, and it also took in the back of the guy’s shiny sedan with his license plate showing. The guy looked vaguely familiar.

Zoë was so busy looking into the eyes of her date, she didn’t see Tanner’s car drive by. Her date was so busy leering at Zoë, he missed Tanner as well.

Tanner went home and poured himself way too much bourbon to drink on an empty stomach. After a couple of gulps, he stared at the golden liquid and the melting ice in his glass as he pondered the craptastic turn of events. Since he couldn’t think of anything else to do, he called Eli.

His call went to voicemail.Well, of course. Everyone has something better to do on a Friday night.Maybe I should ask Phoebe Sissman out. She’s only a little cross-eyed.Clearing his throat when he got to the beep at the end of Eli’s request for him to leave a message, Tanner announced in a slurred voice, “Hey, Eli. I miss you, and now Zoë has a boyfriend. My life sucks. Bye.”

Twenty minutes later he got a text.

Eli: Sorry man. I’m out on a date, but she just left to “powder her nose.” Why do they say that? Women! Hang in there. Maybe she’ll get sick of him. Or maybe it’s time to look for someone else. My sis Caro broke up with the rockstar… interested? The clock is ticking. Gotta go.

Tanner was definitely not interested. He wanted one woman, and she was lost to him, apparently.Maybe it’s just one date though, and the guy has awful breath and a tiny dick. I can always hope.The thought of anyone’s dick, tiny or otherwise, getting near Zoë made him nearly tear up. He poured another bourbon and eventually fell asleep in his chair in front of a lousy movie.

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