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Sunday Kind of Love
Sunday Kind of Love
Sunday Kind of Love
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Sunday Kind of Love

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When Ethan Flynn meets Courtney Jacobs, there is instant sexual attraction, and as they become closer, she helps him cope with the death of his father and dismal marriage. For the first time, he's convinced his life is complete. However, when two federal agents

LanguageEnglish
Release dateOct 16, 2023
ISBN9798989369928
Sunday Kind of Love
Author

Andrew Wellington

Andrew has practiced in the medical field for many years and decided to move away from the profession and write books, which is his passion. After many years of writing poetry and short stories, he stepped back and wrote a novel. Andrew lives in Western Kentucky with his five children, wife, two cats, and one dog. He spends his time writing, hiking, and with his family.

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    Sunday Kind of Love - Andrew Wellington

    COVER-EBOOK-.jpg

    .

    for j and for mr cornelius,

    the person who inspired me to write

    1

    Ain’t No Sunshine

    Bill Withers

    MARCH 2nd, 1992

    Ethan Flynn stared blankly into the parking lot through the window of the diner. The grey at his temples picked up the light of the sun and exhibited a shine of its own, which gave him an air of authority. As he watched the cars pass by, frustration boiled under the surface, and he wondered how much longer he could keep the cork in the bottle, so it didn’t spew all over the room. His excitement had melted and pooled around him, and he wanted nothing more than to return to his miserable, mundane life.

    The sounds of dishes being washed echoed across the walls and created a melody which was the basis of the symphony playing in the background, while the thick smell of rancid grease hung in the air. The rumble of conversations, clanging silverware, and an occasional yell from the cook completed the orchestra that played a song unlike any he’d heard, and it soothed him as he began to drift off to sleep, until the finale of a crashing plate and spate of expletives startled him awake.

    How long do we have to wait? I mean, we’ve already been here almost two hours. Isn’t there some rule that allows us to leave if we wait too long? Turning his head from the parking lot to the man sitting across from him, he asked pleadingly, I just want to leave. Please?

    How many times do I have to remind you, Ethan, you’re a whiner? Jonathan Frank asked as he smiled and did his best not to laugh. Don’t you remember your interview with the CIA? You told them you wanted to be James Bond and it would be really really cool to work for them. He put his arms on the table and leaned forward as he continued, Even though you never saw it in a movie, I promise you he did just what we’re doing, and he never whined.

    That’s not funny, don’t make fun of me. He put his face in his palms and gave a muffled reply, I just thought this was going to be exciting, I had no idea we’d be waiting an eternity for him to show up.

    That’s where the disconnect lies. There’s rarely excitement, and there’s always waiting – a lot of waiting. Intelligence gathering is about gathering intelligence, period. Occasionally, we offer opportunities to right a wrong, but we mostly gather. We don’t gather it in a sports car while we’re shooting at the bad guys, we gather it by talking and observing. That’s exactly what a CIA agent does, Ethan, did you think the FBI would be any different?

    Continuing to talk into his palms, he answered, No, I just hoped it would be different.

    It’s never different, it’s always the same - complete boredom with random bits of excitement.

    Jonathan, he began as he put his hands on the table and looked at him, making a decision to gather intelligence because you want to is quite a bit different from gathering intelligence because you have to. He paused to pop his neck and continued while turning to look out the window, I’ll stop whining, I’m just not looking forward to Jamie’s questions about where I’ve been. She really wanted me to stay home this morning, and I told her I’d only be gone a couple of hours. Pointing to his watch as he turned toward him, he leaned over and said in a loud whisper, Based on that, I’m supposed to be home any minute, then turned back to look out the window.

    She’ll get over it, Jonathan responded, then hesitated before continuing with a confused look on his face, I thought you said you had no relationship with Jamie. When did that cha -

    Ethan held up his hand to stop him, and asked, Hey, what did you say he was driving?

    She told me he’d be driving a Ford pickup with a license plate frame that said, ‘Redneck and Proud’.

    Then he’s here, Ethan pointed as he responded.

    They watched as he pulled his black F-350 4X4 into a space in the back of the parking lot. He sat there for a minute to write something on a legal pad, and when he was finished, he looked in the rearview mirror and picked something out of his teeth. Before getting out of the truck, he leaned over and dug in the glove box, then scratched his butt before straightening up.

    Now there’s a winner, Ethan laughed and snorted.

    We’ll see. There are all kinds. We just don’t know what kind he is.

    He opened the door of the truck and looked slowly around before stepping into the parking lot. They watched intently, and the first thing they saw was the shiny spur on the back of his left boot. When he shut the door and stepped in front of the truck, the description they were given was spot on - around two hundred pounds and six feet three inches tall.

    Well, there you go. We know what kind he is, he’s a redneck, Ethan said with a smile as he turned to Jonathan. That’s what it said around his license plate, so you should have already known that, unless you were just throwing that out there to build suspense. You know, now that he’s finally here, I’m not so irritated, he laughed. This is gonna be fun.

    Jonathan grabbed his hand and squeezed as he bent over and whispered in his face. Don’t do anything stupid. He’s vital to this case, so just let me talk. He cleared his throat before continuing, We should know if he’s the one who orchestrated the shipment by his response when I mention Atlanta, but even if he’s not, we need him. Leaning further in, he lowered his voice and spoke through his teeth, If you fuck this up because you want to be James Bond, it won’t be pretty.

    Pulling his hand away, Ethan whispered loudly as he pointed, Seriously? You have got to be kidding me! Look at his boots!

    His boots were bright red, white, and blue and looked as if they were crafted out of a confederate flag. As he swaggered proudly toward the door, everything about him screamed redneck - his boots, his tight jeans, his oversized sterling silver belt buckle sporting a golden image of the state of Texas, even his white embroidered cowboy shirt with pearlescent buttons. The only thing missing was his ten-gallon hat.

    Hey, does he have a name? Ethan asked as he laughed, If we don’t have one, I’ll just call him Redneck; I think that’ll be appropriate. I just hope I can keep from laughing, Jonathan, he said as he turned back to him. This is priceless!

    Jonathan glared at him and kicked him under the table.

    Why did you do that? That hurt!

    Shut up!

    Redneck entered the diner and scanned the room. They watched until he made eye contact before sauntering his way to their table.

    In an incredible drawl, he said loudly when he reached the table, Well, I’ll be, they told me I’d be meetin’ a couple pretty boys, and I can definitely say they were right. I’m positive I’m at the right table, there ain’t no other pretty boys in here. He laughed and sat down hard next to Ethan, then asked, Why’m I here?

    Ethan spoke first, Those are some really awesome boots. I’ve never seen anything like them before, are they special made?

    I didn’t drive clear out to Dallas to talk about my boots, dammit! Why’m I here? They only told me it was important.

    Jonathan put his elbows on the table and glared at Ethan before turning and speaking softly to him, Let’s just say we have an offer. It’s one that I suggest you very carefully consider. It concerns your employer.

    Redneck looked at him for a moment and responded, I don’t have an employer, I’m self-employed.

    I’m not talking about the farm.

    He continued to stare.

    We have information regarding the incident in Atlanta involving the shipment.

    Redneck’s eyes widened as he looked quickly at Ethan then back to him. What incident? I didn’t know there was an incident. Who are you, anyway? he asked as he again looked at Ethan then back to him.

    Let’s just say we’re friends, Jonathan answered, and there’s no reason to tell me you aren’t who we both know you are. That wouldn’t be in your best interest.

    Redneck brought his right hand to his mouth and nervously chewed on his thumb, before putting it on the table and drumming his fingers. Concern was written all over his face, and concealing it appeared to be impossible.

    Everything will be okay, said Jonathan with a smile. They aren’t blaming you.

    You said you had an offer. What is it? Redneck asked as he continued drumming his fingers. You still didn’t tell me who you are.

    We’ve been in contact with your employer’s employer, and we think we’ve made a deal to get you out of the trade. If you take our offer, you’ll have full immunity.

    Redneck’s eyes grew even wider as he quickly asked, You know The Chocolate Man?

    The Chocolate Man? Jonathan asked as he looked toward Ethan.

    The Chocolate Man, Redneck replied with the same excited look on his face.

    Neither responded as he impatiently waited for confirmation.

    Talking slowly through his teeth as he leaned across the table toward Jonathan, Redneck asked once more, Do you know The Chocolate Man?

    Ethan laughed and turned to him, as he asked, Does he live on Drury Lane?

    Redneck slammed both fists on the table, and said, I didn’t come here to play girly games. Looking over his shoulder, he asked loudly, Where’s the toilet, I gotta piss? We can continue this when I get back.

    The couple in the booth across the aisle gave them a disapproving look and went back to their breakfast as he continued, Can either of you girls see it? Standing up and looking, he saw a sign with a male and female figure hanging above the door to the right of the kitchen. I’ll be back, he said and started walking slowly that way.

    Who the hell is The Chocolate Man? Ethan asked Jonathan as Redneck left the table.

    I don’t know, and you’ve about put me over the edge. I wouldn’t be surprised if he left after your stunt.

    I thought it was funny. He paused before continuing as he smiled, "Oh, c’mon Jonathan, you know the Muffin Man, don’t you?"

    It wasn’t funny and being funny isn’t part of this business.

    Hey! Look at the back of his pants, Ethan said as he grabbed Jonathan’s arm, he’s got a gun! I thought this was intelligence gathering. Do you have your gun?

    It’s in the car, Jonathan replied with concern as he watched Redneck saunter toward the bathroom. She told me this was nothing; all we’d do is talk, and he’d either accept or tell us he’d call us later. So much for the intelligence she gathered. Frustration covered his face like a mask.

    If all he does is make sure shipments are delivered, why would he have a gun? Ethan asked as he let go of his arm.

    They both watched him continue to walk toward the bathroom, then look back with a smile before breaking into a full sprint.

    Why’s he running, Jonathan?

    It appears he’s leaving!

    They jumped from their seats to follow, but Ethan stumbled and took the table down with him.

    Jonathan called over his shoulder as he ran, Dumbass!

    FEBRUARY 3rd - Four Weeks Earlier

    The final draw on the cigarette was slow and warmed Ethan from the inside. This was the last one, and he held it in a little longer than he would normally have to enjoy the feeling. Just as slowly as he drew in the smoke, he released it through his nose, causing it to tickle and made him sneeze. He dropped the cigarette butt beside him and watched it burn slowly before stepping on it, with a twist.

    It was cold outside, and he pulled up the collar of his coat to cover his neck as he watched the horses running in and out of the barn. What a year for weather. It had been a cool Summer, which caused all the leaves to drop before the end of August and a very warm Fall and Winter - except for today. Kicking the dust as he walked toward his Miata, he thought he remembered something but couldn’t remember what it was. Laughing, he chalked the thought up to another fleeting, nonexistent memory.

    The drive home from Apple Hill was uneventful, as always, except for the company provided by Bill Withers, ... I know, I know, I know, I know, hey, I oughtta leave young thing alone, but ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone ... He smiled as he turned off the radio and drove the last twenty minutes in silence.

    FEBRUARY 4th

    Ethan?

    Her voice drifted along the wind as he slept in the warm grass, listening to the water in the creek run down the hill and dance across the mossy rocks.

    Ethan?

    This time, it was louder, closer, but sweeter than before as a warm breeze blew suddenly from the south and caressed his face, making him smile.

    Ethan?

    The voice was much closer this time, but firmer and more forceful as thunder rumbled in the distance. Just as suddenly as the warm breeze blew, a strong gust of wind from the north created an icy, biting grip that felt as if it would strangle him, and he couldn’t breathe.

    Ethan!

    The steps of the unseen giant rumbled along the ground, causing it to open beneath him, throwing him into a bottomless abyss as the voice became softer and more comforting, until he awoke to see Jamie.

    Your mother’s on the phone, Ethan, it’s your dad, Jamie said softly as she handed him the phone.

    FEBRUARY 8th

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

    Ethan watched as people began to slowly stand and return to the lives they had, prior to saying goodbye to his dad. Some talking, some staring into space or the floor, some crying, some laughing, but all of the them forgetting why they were here.

    The first person to offer her condolences, Mrs. Eula Greene, was more than a regular at his dad’s pharmacy. Visiting every thirty days to pick up her refills, all of which were due on different days, and three to four times a week for everything else, or just to talk for no reason whatsoever, meant she was there nearly every day of the year. When he was twelve, he remembered telling his dad she needed to hold candy, or something, so she could help make up for all the money she caused him to lose over the years because she was more of a fixture than any other thing in the pharmacy since she was the only thing that hadn’t been replaced multiple times over. When she extended her hand, and opened her mouth, hers was the first empty, hollow statement to be made, followed by many others.

    Your father was a good man.

    We’re going to miss him.

    I’m sorry for your loss.

    He is in a better place now.

    Blah, blah, blah, was all he heard for the next thirty minutes while he imagined he was Charlie Brown listening to his teacher.

    Jamie stared silently out the window, and he felt alone. The only thing that helped him forget about the pain was her hand in his. It was the first time she’d held it since they were dating. Dreams of running the pharmacy without his dad danced in his head, but without the comforting conversations, the quality time, the love which always showed in his dad’s eyes, he knew his days would be nothing more than isolation in an empty building, and it caused him to cry. She gripped his hand tighter as she watched the trees, and the silence continued along the path home.

    FEBRUARY 12th

    When he pulled into his parking space in the back of the pharmacy the next morning, he looked up at the sign erected in 1990. Each letter of the pharmacy name was a different color, and he laughed when he thought about the day his dad told him he was changing the name of the pharmacy. He had no idea his dad was changing the color of the letters of the pharmacy name, not the actual name. His dad changed the colors of the letters in 1990 because he said it would be a comfort to the community. It would show everyone that his pharmacy was a place to come to, and he was right. The number of prescriptions filled each day tripled from what it had been within a month of the day he changed the sign.

    Black, Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Purple spelled the name My Pride, the name his dad gave his pharmacy in 1960. His dad had no idea the community would change so drastically, but he was happy it did. When he first decided on the name, it was a result of how proud he was that he could dig out of the poverty he had experienced as a child, but it had grown into a name that represented Oak Lawn, a sleepy community nestled in the heart of downtown Dallas.

    As he got out of the car, he said to himself, Ethan Flynn, this is your first day alone. Make it a good one. Okay?

    When he headed toward the door, he noticed a note taped just above the doorknob, and he was sure it was from Courtney. It made him smile and helped put the thoughts of his dad behind him. As he reached for the note, he stopped and immediately remembered the last notes on the front door - threats and slurs directed toward the patients - and he hoped his first thought was correct. His fear melted away when he took the note from the door and saw the handwriting. ‘Ethan, I got you something, you’ll have to find it. Miss you. See you Saturday.’

    I miss you, too, Courtney, I miss you so much. See you Saturday, he said softly and smiled as he entered the pharmacy.

    It was a terrible day. After the first hour, he realized he needed to hire more help because he’d been the help all those years, and now the pharmacy was nothing like it was. Between the bickering couple, the crying children, the countless early refills, and the other never-ending reasons why he was distracted, he had a headache and was ready for a beer.

    He looked at the clock and smiled - only thirty minutes - but those minutes took an eternity to pass. When the final second of the day was done, it was the usual routine of counting down the drawer, checking in the drug order, reconciling narcotics, enabling the alarm, and locking up. If it hadn’t been for the three narcotic discrepancies, which took nearly six hours to resolve, he would be safely home and nursing a beer. As he locked the door, and turned toward the parking lot, he laughed because even though his job was irritating, he knew he was where he was supposed to be.

    Sirens screamed in the distance as he walked toward his Miata. The glow of the streetlights dancing along its red paint caused the appearance of a smoldering fire, and he wondered if it was finally time to move the pharmacy. He quickly dismissed the idea, however, and laughed. Since the top had been down all day, it took only a slight hop for him to get over the door and settle into his seat. Miles Davis was the music of choice for the way home, ‘Round Midnight’ turned up as loud as it would go.

    2

    The Sound of Silence

    Simon and Garfunkel

    When he turned onto the dirt road leading to his house, there were no lights shining through the trees. Where was Jamie? Maybe she had plans. As he stepped out of the car, he stretched his tired back until it popped.

    In a loud voice, he called, Baby, where are you girl? After a moment, a little beagle puppy came running out from under the hedges and stopped at his feet. Reaching down, he scratched under her chin, and asked, Where’s Momma? Have you seen her? Smiling, he patted her on the back and headed for the house.

    The lamp flickered when he clicked it on, then it slowly illuminated the room. Navigating the mountain of clean clothes waiting to be put away as he headed toward the refrigerator wasn’t as difficult as it normally was because he knew a beer was calling to him. As he reached for the refrigerator door, he noticed a handwritten note on the counter - it was from Jamie.

    ‘I’m sorry I’m not home. I realized this afternoon I haven’t kept up with the books for the pharmacy since your dad died, and I got a cold chill down my spine. I’ve headed into the pharmacy to get things in order; I hope it won’t take too long. Your dinner’s in the fridge. I’m sorry. Love you - Jamie.’ He read the note again to make sure he’d read it correctly. ‘Love you’ wasn’t in her vocabulary and hadn’t been for the last five years - he was confused.

    Since her miscarriage, their marriage had become one of convenience. She’d blamed him and told him it was because he was too focused on himself and the pharmacy, and the stress of him not being around caused her to go into early labor. Counseling went nowhere, and she finally filed for divorce but never followed through because she had no one to take care of her. He became her caretaker, nothing more. Living in the same house with no relationship made him feel like a priest, and he’d finally accepted celibacy as a way of life. The only thing he did for her was make sure she had food to eat and a house to live in - and, of course, a separate bedroom. Seven years of marriage, and five of them spent in prison.

    He crumpled the note into a ball and tossed it into the trash can across the room before turning and taking a Coors Light from the refrigerator. After quickly popping the top, he closed his eyes and brought the can to his nose to take in the aroma of malt, hops, and a slight bit of sulfur before moving it to his lips and savoring the taste as he slowly drank the brew and listened to the silence as he stared into the darkness across the room. The first drink was all it took to take his mind off his confusion, and the decision was made to leave dinner for another day. Another beer, and a shower, and he was quickly off to sleep.

    FEBRUARY 15th

    Like every other day, it started the same - snooze five times, spilled coffee, speeding, and barely making it to work before anyone else, but one thing held this day apart from any other - Courtney. She would finally be back after being gone a month, and he couldn’t wait to see her. Coming close to a nervous breakdown while she was away, the only thing that kept him going was marking the days on the calendar until she returned. When he pulled around the back of the pharmacy, she was waiting for him, and he waved as he got out of the car.

    What brings you ‘round these parts’ little lady? he asked with his best Cowboy impression. You know, it’s dangerous for a pretty little thing like you to be out here all alone, don’t you?

    Smiling, she looked slowly at the ground and slid her right foot behind her ever so slightly before looking back at him, and he thought she’d never been prettier than she was at this moment. The combination of the morning sun, the reflections off the store window, and the shadows all around her bathed her in a light that made her look perfect, almost angelic. She shivered as the gentle February breeze blew past her slender figure and caused her long curly, copper colored hair to dance along her white, down jacket. As they stood looking at one another in silence, the morning sun peeked slowly above the horizon and illuminated her face, exposing her freckles.

    Tears welled up in her moss green eyes and glistened in the sunlight as she answered, I’m here because of you, silly. Why else would I be here? She held his gaze for a few more seconds and started to say something but quit.

    What is it?

    Nothing, she answered as she reached into her purse for the keys. Let’s go in and start the day. She wiped her eyes before unlocking the door and after turning off the alarm asked, Did you find your surprise?

    No, I looked everywhere.

    It’s a good thing it’s not a snake. It was sitting right in front of you all the time.

    What the hell? Seriously?

    Yes, now calm it down, she laughed as she hung her jacket on the coat tree by the door.

    He turned on the lights as they stepped into the pharmacy, and she turned them off.

    What are -

    She turned and put her finger on his lips to shush him, then looked into his eyes for what seemed like an eternity before taking his hands in hers and pulling them slowly behind her as she walked toward and embraced him. He felt her tremble as she held him, and after hesitating, he clasped his fingers against the small of her back and held her as tightly as she held him.

    Should we be doing this? he asked. Anthony should be here any minute.

    Don’t worry, I’m watching. I’ll see him when he pulls up.

    Sorry, those were two thoughts. The first one was the most important. Should we be doing this?

    Probably not, she answered, but this is all I thought of when I went home for my mother’s funeral. I knew that today I had to hold you and make sure you were real and weren’t just in my head.

    She nestled her head against his shoulder as she gently cried, and he could smell her. It was the first time he’d caught her fragrance, and he drank it in slowly and held it before exhaling just as slowly.

    What are you wearing? he asked.

    Clothes.

    What?

    I’m wearing clothes. You saw them on me when we met this morning. Don’t you remember my white jacket and cute little dress? she asked as she stepped back and twirled to show him her apricot dress that fell to just above her knees, then stopped and picked up the bottom to look at something. Look at that! she said excitedly. I don’t know how I got a cut in my dress. See? she asked as she held it up for him to see.

    Courtney, I can see more than your dress, he answered as he smiled. Do you have anything else in that color and style? Lavender and lace are my favorite.

    Winking as she dropped her dress and walked toward him, she asked, You know I didn’t do that on purpose, don’t you?

    Back to how you smell, Ethan said.

    I’m not wearing anything. Well, you saw that I’m wearing something, but I’m not wearing any perfume.

    I can smell you, Courtney. You smell wonderful, he said as he brought his hands up to cup her head, then brushed the remaining tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. You smell like baby powder, and lavender, and ... I don’t know. Licorice?

    Oh, that’s laundry detergent, she responded and laughed as she stepped back. I don’t know what it’s called. I buy something different every time - whatever generic brand is the cheapest. I suppose you could call it ‘Eau de Launderette’. She laughed ... and laughed and laughed so hard she cried, again. Her laugh was addictive but terrifying at the same time. It definitely wasn’t something you’d want to hear at three in the morning if you were in the middle of nowhere.

    Well, looks like y’all startin’ the day just like every other. Why you not laughin’, Boss? She’s laughin’ up a storm, Anthony said as he laughed.

    She was bent over laughing and crying when he interrupted. Feeling along the counter, and nearly falling twice, she slowed to a giggle and found a chair. The comfort of the chair allowed her to calm down and convert her giggle into a huge smile.

    Anthony’s appearance startled Ethan so severely, he came close to screaming like

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