Off the Road and Into the Woods – Ch. 04 (Tier 2+)

Will was free at last!

Oh, not that anyone should have gotten the wrong idea. He did love Hannah, her quirks and latest dive into weird hobbies notwithstanding. She was hot, of course. And usually pretty fun. And he definitely felt comfortable being himself around her. But surely, even the best girlfriend in the world would become a drag if you were stuck in the same tiny cabin with her for weeks on end.

Which was why this special, in-person meeting at work had come as such a welcome relief.

It was only two short days away from the cabin he and Hannah now called home, but it was enough. He'd simply drive up there – battery pack in pocket to placate her suspicious mind – and would get in and out again before the whole state travel restrictions were slated to take force. He'd see what was up with the company's latest projects, and how they were going to be transitioning to more remote work, and catch up with his coworkers once more. Heck, he could even fetch a few things from his cubicle that he'd forgotten to bring along – that poster, and his old calendar, for instance. Oh, and that prank shot glass Naomi had given him years ago…

Ooh, and assuming the restaurants were still open, he'd stuff himself on some genuinely good food. Food that was… well, not made by Hannah.

He grimaced at the distasteful memory. These latest interests of hers were getting stranger and stranger, and now that she'd branched out into back-to-basics cooking, the tastiness of their meals had declined drastically. Refined sugars were her latest dietary enemy. This had meant no more sugar in his coffee this whole past week: only honey. No more of his favorite processed snacks. No ice cream, no hot dog buns… hell, not even any ketchup to put on the sadly naked hot dogs. It was becoming goddamn depressing.

So now that he was on his own, there was nothing he wanted more than a nice, junky meal at the closest fast food chain he could find. What Hannah wouldn't know wouldn't hurt her, right? She could stay behind with her sourdough and her kale smoothies and her new hobbies. He, at least, would have a bit of fun.

But first… the meeting.

***

So much for fun.

The words were still ringing in his ears. "Unpaid leave." "For the foreseeable future." "Unsure when things will be back to normal." "First on the list if and when business picks up again."

Yeah, he'd essentially been laid off. He'd come all this way, listening to those smug suits blandly talking for over an hour about projections and pandemic measures and stocks in freefall… all so they could then smile sympathetically and tell him – in the politest of words, of course – to go fuck himself.

Screw them. And screw the company. And screw everything, not least of all this stupid fucking virus that was turning the entire world upside down.

At least he wasn't the only one sharing such sentiments. "Sure, I'll have another," he sighed, dropping his now-empty can and nodding over at Naomi, who was busy chugging down her latest White Claw. "Good choice," she muttered, handing him another chilly can and having a tispy sigh of her own. "God fucking dammit. I really worked my ass off for those jerks, you know that? Eight and a half fucking years – just to have them drop me like a steaming pile of dogshit the minute things get tough…"

Yeah, he agreed. Yeah, agreed Steve from his left. Yep, agreed Aaron from behind Steve. There wasn't much else to say, of course. Yeah, it sucked balls. They could all agree on that. But as far as what to do next?

Well, nobody really knew. All they could do was lean here against the shuttered park fence with their  drinks, grumbling together for one last time and hoping that things would change – soon. In the meantime, they'd stay safe, and wash their hands, and flatten the curve like everyone was saying. They'd wait for things to get better, hunkered down in the safety of home…

Oh, yeah. Home. How the hell was he ever going to break it to Hannah? God, she'd absolutely flip out. They'd been counting on his income, after all – not only for basic groceries, but for the car payments, and the student loans, and…

And so he sighed once more, and reached for his third – but by no means last – beer of the night.

***

Call it inspiration. Call it lack of alternatives. But while waking in his dirty little hotel room the following morning, Will's pounding head suggested that alcohol was probably the best way to introduce the lovely idea of unemployment to the unsuspecting Hannah.

Everything was easier when you had had a few drinks, right?

It was tough, but on the way back he did manage to find one alcohol place that was still open. Tequila, check. Rum, check. Flavored vodka, sure, why not? Hell, who knew when the next time would be that he'd be able to stock up on booze?

So it was that once he'd bounced and rocked his way back down the bumpy lane to their little cabin,  bottles softly clanking in the back seat, he was ready. He'd simply tell her it had been a good meeting, that he'd been safe, that he'd brought her a present to help make it a festive evening. Hell, he'd even pass on the video games for the night. They'd both get all liquored up, and once she was nice and tipsy, he'd mention that he, um, wasn't going to need to work for a little while.

Which he did. "I'm not going to need to work for a little while."

That took her aback, sure. The tequila was already buzzing in his head as much as hers, but he could see the uncertain worry flash in her green eyes. "Oh, it's nothing much. It's all of us, actually. The entire team. But it's not a big deal. Really…"

Words. More words. Tumbling out of his loosened mouth in response to her queries. Yep, Steve and Aaron too. And Amy, probably. And Naomi, sure. Sure he was sure. They'd chatted about it themselves over drinks. Yes, drinks. Of course they had – it was their last time together! Couldn't just leave without sharing a few drinks together…

And all the while, Hannah was growing more and more silent. Her eyes were narrowing. Her lips tightening. The fingers around her glass clenching. But after those questions, she said nothing more – nothing, that is, besides murmuring that she needed to go tend to the luggage. You know, had to wash and sanitize his laundry.

So it was that even while Will was taking a few more self-congratulatory sips of his drink and musing tipsily on how well that had gone, Hannah was busy.

Open went his luggage. Out came the dirty clothes. And there, right before her very eyes, was the evidence she'd feared to see, wrapped in nothing less than a pair of his dirty boxers: a shot glass, its translucent breasts swelling under a scanty bikini of acrylic paint. And on its bottom, a little note…

"You're welcome. 😜 -Naomi."

Hannah's fingers clenched around the offending article, her mouth working in a cataclysm of rage and suppressed sobs. This- this was too much. Here she'd missed that jerk so much. She'd been worried about him- hoping he was safe- waiting for him to get back. And now, to find out that he'd been eating that fast food she now knew was so horrifically unhealthy… drinking with his coworkers… clearly carrying on something risqué with this bitch Naomi…

God, what an absolute bastard!

She- she didn't know what she was going to do. But that didn't matter. No one would lure her Will away from her – not on her watch. And she was going to teach her Will a lesson somehow – a lesson to never, ever try to fuck with anyone else.

(To be continued!)