My Ex's Ex

"Oh!" I couldn't hide my surprise. I guess I had retained my mental image of Micah the bartender in the tight shirt mixing drinks and breaking hearts. A low-brow Lothario, destined for mediocrity. I chided myself for being so prejudiced. Meanwhile, we sat in silence again until I asked, "So where are we going?"

He told me the name of a town I had never before heard of. We were still about 4 hours away.

"How do you know she's there?"

Micah was quiet so long I almost repeated myself. Then he answered, "In the picture, the windmill. I took her there once. It's... it's a special place for me. There's a place nearby where she could be staying. I checked her account again last night and she had posted another picture from there, a landmark I know."

And then I realized that, despite my efforts or intentions, we were again talking about her. But it didn't seem too bad now. And the conversation easily transitioned to other things, then inevitably back to the one thing we had in common. But I didn't feel so anxious anymore.

*******

After one more short stop for gas and lunch, we arrived at the town in the mid-afternoon. The early-autumn sun kept the breeze from being too chilly as it swept across grassy plains. We weren't in the middle of nowhere, but it was definitely someplace rural. We passed a number of small farms after exiting the interstate, then turned on a small state road. Thirty minutes later I saw it - the windmill rising up over a quaint farmhouse. Micah turned up the drive and slowed down.

"No sign of a car right now," he said, driving very slowly to the side of the house.

"Are you sure you should be driving on their grass?" I asked as he pulled around behind the house. "What if someone-"

"It's fine," he assured me. And then I saw a stand-alone garage in the back yard. Micah pulled the car up a few feet away from the doors, then got out, leaving the car running with me inside. I could see a large lock on the garage doors that seemed like they would swing outward, given the chance. I opened my mouth to object to such an intrusion on private property when Micah amazed me by pulling another set of keys from his pocket. He fiddled with them a moment, then located the key he wanted and used it to open the garage.

After swinging the doors wide open and glancing around inside the garage, Micah returned to the car and slowly pulled it into the garage. I stared at him in confusion.

Only after he had parked the car and climbed out did he say anything. Bending down to look at me, still strapped in, he explained, "It's my family's farm. No one lives here right now. But I'm guessing there'll be signs of Dommi inside."

Without a word, I slowly unbuckled, exited the vehicle, and followed Micah inside.

It was like something out of a magazine. So classically middle-American. So... delightfully old-fashioned. Cross-stitch art on the walls, undoubtedly from an elderly relative. Old wood furniture, hand-carved and hand-painted with enough imperfection to assure you it wasn't store-bought. A fireplace with family photos on the mantle. An inconceivably large kitchen with... yep... a tell-tale pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

While I was taking it all in, Micah was disappearing and reappearing, checking each room for who knows what. I started in on the dishes. Some things never change, I guess. In all the time we lived together, I don't think Nica ever once washed a single dirty dish. I was stuck cleaning up her messes - literal and metaphorical.

After about ten minutes Micah came into the kitchen, stretching and sighing.

"It feels good to be out of the car," he said with a smile.

"What were you looking for?" I asked, drying off my hands with a nearby towel.

"Making sure nothing important was missing. I don't think she knows where the good stuff is, but if she has enough time on her hands and is intent on doing some damage, she could probably find stuff I'd rather she not find."

"So... she's staying here?"

"Looks like it. A few bags and a pile of dirty clothes in one room. Messes in other places. I don't think she ever learned what to do with unfinished food. She just leaves it sitting out for days."

I smirked. "Yep. Definitely was a pattern."

Micah was only half-listening to me. His attention seemed to be on his phone.

I cleared my throat. "Now what? Do we just... wait here for her to come back?"

Without lifting his eyes from his phone, Micah answered, "I don't think we have that kind of time. We'll have to go looking. Tonight. I have some ideas." And then he walked out of the room with his phone to his ear.

The next half hour or so Micah was on the phone. I guessed it was with a family member - a sister, I would have wagered, talking about needing to change locks and such. Then he called someone he knew personally who seemed to be able to change locks. Plus a few other conversations that moved in and out of hearing range as he ceaselessly wandered around the house.

I got tired of waiting and went to a bedroom. The sheets were a mess, and an old-timey looking quilt was bunched up on one side. I lay down and stared at the ceiling, then rolled to my side, smelling the unmistakable scent of Nica's conditioner on the pillow. She was inconsistent and flighty and noncommittal about so many things, but not her hair products. To those she was fiercely loyal.

I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. Memories of burying my face in her long auburn hair, peppering her neck with little kisses. The feel of her skin under my caress, the sound of her breath in my ear. I dozed off before the memories turned bitter. When I awoke, not more than an hour later, I sat up and looked around. It occurred to me (why had it not occurred to me before I got in the bed?) that there was a decent chance Nica hadn't been alone in that bed. She never could go long without a partner, even if it was for just a night or two. I shivered in disgust and went back to the kitchen.

Micah wasn't anywhere in the house that I could see, but I heard a thumping from outside. Looking out a few windows I finally spotted him. Shirt off, chest sweaty, ax swinging through the air and splitting logs. He had a small pile of firewood forming next to him. When I saw him pause and pick up a bottle of water, I became aware of how thirsty and hungry I was. The fridge and cabinets offered nothing promising, and indeed, all of Nica's messes around the house had been carry-out boxes, which told me there was probably civilization nearby.

As I was giving up hope on finding quick food, I looked outside again (the thumping sound had ceased) and saw Micah carrying wood to the side of the house. I went out and joined him. Gathering up an armload to carry, I asked, "Trying to distract yourself? Release some anger?"

He gave me a curious look, then chuckled. "Maybe on some level, but not really. It's going to be cold tonight, and we'll be glad for the fire." I couldn't help but take a longer look at his body. I don't like snuggling with a guy when he's sweaty, but I sure like looking at one in that state. Micah's chest was lean but toned, with only a hint of softness in his middle (probably from sitting at a desk a lot with his new job). A clump of dark hair covered the middle of his chest, moving downward in a narrowing trail towards his waistband. I tried to remember, how long since I had been with a guy? I'm fully bi, but my past two relationships had been with women. So it had been... 4 years? Almost 5? Not that I hadn't seen the occasional video of a naked man. But to see one in person, that's always different.

As we carried the last two armloads of firewood to the house, I brought up what was really on my mind. "So two things... you said you have some ideas. What do they involve? And do you have some ideas for food? It's pretty Mother Hubbard in there."

"Well," he replied, wiping his face with the shirt in his hand, "I'm guessing she's been spending time in town, about 30 minutes from here. After I shower, we can head that way, grab some dinner, then check out some places where people hang out, see if anyone's seen her."

"What if she comes back here while we're out? What if she leaves for good after that?"

Micah stopped and thought for a minute. Then he shrugged. "Not sure what we can do about that. Hide her stuff so she can't leave? I dunno. I doubt she'd care. She'd just leave and buy new stuff. Anyway, I'm gonna shower."

I debated staying at the house to catch Nica if she came back, but I was too hungry to seriously consider that idea. In the end, I changed into some clothes for an evening on the town.

*******

The first place we went was everything I expected in a country town, but at the same time not what I expected. I'm not sure how else to explain that. All the stereotypes were there - cowboy hats, boots, denim, flannel, big belt buckles, country music, American flags. I mean, for God's sake, at one point half the place was on the floor line-dancing! We were worlds away from my Philly upbrining. It amazed me how Micah just blended right in. The man I had known as a bartender at a popular, trendy, hipster bar was blending right in with these people as if he was one of them. I guess, in a way, he was.

And yet the whole place felt different than I expected it to. It didn't reek of inbred racism, misogyny, and violence (the multiple gun racks visible in the pickup trucks parked outside notwithstanding). People were friendly, the food was decent, and it seemed like it was just... fun. I was pretty sure I saw a lesbian couple dancing together at one point and no one seemed to mind. I had a lot of time to think about all this, sitting alone at a booth most of the time. Micah wandered purposefully about, talking to people he seemed to know, showing a picture of Nica around, asking questions. When our food arrived, he slid into the wooden bench across from me. I was already scarfing down the delicious greasy stuff before me.

"So... she's been here, as recently as last night. Also at a few other places. Hitting on guys, mostly." I winced at that. "Someone thinks they saw her leave with a local guy last night, someone I think I know. I'm going to try to swing by his place and see if the car's there."

"I'll come with," I said. It was pretty obvious he couldn't just leave me, anyway.

"Yeah, let's just finish up first," Micah replied, consuming his burger in fewer bites than I thought possible. While his mouth was stuffed full, the server came by and I asked for the check. She was cute, and I almost felt like she was flirting with me. Was that my imagination? Or was I getting low-key horny and starting to filter everything through sex? Ugh, that wasn't like me. Maybe there was a certain energy in this place, a vibe I wasn't used to. It wasn't like places I was used to. It was playful, it was freeing. I felt like an outsider who didn't know the steps, but now I saw the appeal of the dance, anyway.

Micah was wiping his mouth and standing up, having signed the check while my mind was in space. I followed him to his car, a vehicle that now seemed out of place in the parking lot populated mostly with pick-up trucks, classic and new. As he pulled onto the road and glanced at his GPS, I felt compelled to note, "You don't come off as a... a, uh..."

"Redneck?" he supplied, grinning. "Hick?" "Country boy?"

"Sorry, I didn't know how I was planning to finish that. Maybe I was going to say you don't come off as a local?"

"Born and raised in that house we were at," he explained, picking up speed as we left the more populated area. "Left for college, adapted quickly, and now..."

"Just blending in where you're at?"

"More or less."

After that we drove in silence for 20 minutes, far away from neighborhoods and stoplights, into the wooded area of houses spread hundreds of yards apart with occasional small forests in between. I glimpsed at the GPS and saw we had another 4 minutes to go. This felt like it could have been the turning point in a murder drama or horror movie. Trapped in a car with my ex's ex, taken to the middle of nowhere, raped and murdered...

"Your destination... is on the... left," informed the GPS. Micah slowed down and we both leaned forward to look.

"No lights on in the house," I whispered, for some reason.

"Yeah, and no cars in the driveway, either," Micah said at an unnervingly normal volume.

"Do you think they might have a garage out back, like you did?"

"Nah," he shook his head. Micah U-turned in the middle of the country road, but paused when the car was facing the driveway. "You'd see worn grass or tire tracks heading around back. There's nothing like that here.

I slumped back into my seat. "Now what?" I asked. "Stakeout?"

Micah was silent for a minute. Then he sighed and put the car in gear to head back the way we came. "No."

"But what if they come back?"

"We don't even know she's with this guy right now. And if she was, they'd probably be in the same vehicle, so either your car or his truck would be around. No, I don't think she's with him right now."

"So... now what?" I asked again.

"I don't know. Just head back to the house, I guess. Try again tomorrow. I'm tired."

I couldn't argue with that. I was tired, and I had even napped earlier. It was a quiet, disappointing drive back. Micah parked in the shed/garage again, and once we were in the house, he busied himself getting sheets and towels out of closets and handing me all that I would need for the night.

"You're a good host," I yawned.

Micah shrugged and said, "It's something you learn when you're young around here."

I didn't want to sleep in the bed or even the room Nica had been in - I still couldn't shake the thought of her recently sharing that bed with someone else. Micah set me up in another, similar room. "Used to be my sister's," he explained. "My mom took it over as a craft room when the kids were gone, but it's still got a bed, so..."

"It's fine," I said, and closed the door. I went to lock it but waited, not wanting Micah to hear it lock - I felt like it would be offensive, a sign of distrust. I paused. Was I afraid of him? No. I decided I wasn't. Micah seemed nice. I couldn't imagine him with Nica - his... normalness and her... energy. But maybe that's what draws people to one another. I felt almost a kinship with Micah - we were both simple, down-to-earth people. In another world, we could have been friends. In another world maybe we... but no. People like us tend to get sucked in by people who push us and drive us and excite us. Men like Micah want exciting girls. Not librarians. I could tell he looked right past me whenever I was around. I was used to that. I was common, I blended in with the scenery. For a while, I thought Nica saw something else, something to love.

Now I knew. She didn't see me. She saw an opportunity. Someone she could use. All the moments that had seemed intimate, all the borderline abusive behavior I had written off as how she loved me in her own way... it was like watching a horror movie for the second time and seeing that the killer in the background the whole time.

I was changed and in bed, warm under an old quilt that felt like nostalgia and family. Just as I was drifting off, a chime on my phone distracted me. A notification. I didn't feel like looking, but I wanted to silence all such nuisances for the night so I could sleep in peace. As I accessed my phone, I glanced at the notice.

Dominique has a new post!, it read. Well that sure got my attention. I bolted up in bed and navigated to the site where she had posted. It was a picture - a clue. Starry sky, hills, shadows of trees. No Nica. The caption read, "feeling small and insignificant in a great big universe." That was it. A little uncharacteristic of Nica, but so what? It was a long shot, but maybe Micah knew this place.

I hopped out of bed, heedless of how I looked, and rushed down the hall to the room I remembered to be the master bedroom. No one was there. Of course, why would he be in his parents' room? All other doors were open except one that was mostly closed. I peeked inside and saw Micah on the bed. I knocked gently and got no response. He was already out. I knocked louder. "Micah!" I said softly, then repeated louder. Suddenly he sat up and looked at the door, confused.

"Micah, I got something. She posted another picture not 10 minutes ago."

A little confused, Micah got out of bed and shuffled towards me. I held my phone so we could both see it and showed him the new post. Micah blinked and rubbed his eyes and continued to look. "Do you have any idea where this is?" I asked. "For all we know, she might still be there right now." Micah was quiet but looking intently at the phone. Or so I thought. Then I realized I was wearing a thin nightshirt with no bra. And I was holding the phone right in front of my chest, my breasts rising and falling as I breathed quickly in excitement. At that point, I also realized that Micah was next to me in only his boxers. Our arms were almost touching. Micah shook his head quickly, as if to clear some cobwebs, then said, "Yeah, hang on." He went to the nightstand and grabbed some glasses, put them on, and walked back over to me.

"Lemme see it," he said, extending his hand to me. Not wanting to let go of my phone, I swiveled around so we were side by side, Micah just a little behind me. He leaned in and looked closely. I couldn't imagine what he was looking at, the image was mostly darkness, nothing unique enough to give away the location. Sleepy and anxious, I naturally leaned a little towards the body next to mine. He smelled nice - still hints of the bar, but also a bit of aftershave, same brand as I had seen in the bathroom earlier. I felt goosebumps when my bare arm softly pressed against his chest. I heard him inhale and wondered if he felt the same hint of desire that I was ready to admit was growing between us.

I turned my face a little his direction, not sure what I'd see. But his intake of breath was followed by a sigh. "I could guess where this is - one of a few lookout points around here. But she's not there now."

"How can you-"

"This picture wasn't taken tonight," he interrupted. "It's clear skies in this picture, it's been cloudy all over since we got back. I think." He made a motion towards the window in his room, but even I could see at this distance that there were no stars in the sky. My heart should have sank with disappointment, but it felt strangely excited still.

"So... nothing, then?" I asked.

Micah looked at me and squinted a bit. "Nothing yet," he replied. "But maybe soon."

"Sorry to bother you," I frowned, crossing my arms across my chest self-consciously.

"It's nothing," he assured me. "We need to check every possibility. Time isn't on our side." He concluded that observation with a loud yawn.

"But she has to come back here before she leaves, right? To get her stuff?"

"Who the hell even knows," he snarled. "When she left me, I found her stuff in our... my apartment for the next two months. It's like she didn't even care, wanted to start fresh."

A turned and shuffled towards my room for the night, looking askance at the room Nica had been in. "She'll come back," I insisted, more to myself, since I really needed something to hope in. And part of me felt pathetic because I couldn't say for sure that I wanted my car more than I wanted to see Nica again.

********

A dream in a strange bed. Micah and Nica together, me excluded. I watched impotently as she wooed him back. The two of them laughing at me. Her kissing him just to hurt me. Seeing how effective it was, she undresses him as he smiles confidently. She takes his cock into her mouth, smiling wickedly each time she looks my way. She slides herself up along the length of his body, dropping her dress in the process. Laughing my direction, she straddles him. "Jealous?" she teases.