Chapter Five: Venturing Out

Chelsea sat in the front seat of their car and stared at the front of Tucker’s Hideaway, wondering why in the world a group of people would choose a bar with a name like that to say, “Hey, we’re swingers; let’s screw.” She should have known better when she read the address and had no idea where the bar was. Now, she was in the middle of nowhere at a bar in the darkest part of town that looked like it needed demolished. “Why are there no streetlights or even emergency lights on the outside of this place?” she asked, staring up at the building through the windshield. “Do you hear banjo music?”

Darren leaned toward the steering wheel so he could see out the windshield at the front of the bar as well. “How much research did you do on this place?”

“Apparently, not enough. I don’t think we’re going to be able to observe for a while without being noticed.”

She felt his eyes on her but avoided turning his way. “You still want to go in there? Chelsea, this place reeks of trouble.”

“You’ve watched too many Criminal Minds episodes. It’ll be fine. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“That’s never a good question to ask before walking into a dive like this.” She heard him take a deep breath. “All right, if you’re sure about this, we might as well get it over with so we can make good our escape. I’ll check for back doors once we’re inside.”

“Oh, behave. This will be fun.” I hope.

The wooden steps that led up to the front door were ancient and creaked with every step they took and the hand railing seemed like it needed to be held up more than it would hold someone up. Neon lights flashed, announcing the different beers they served inside. The glass on the front door, a small pane barely wide enough to peek inside, was covered with grunge that made visibility inside impossible, anyway. Darren stood, hand on the doorknob, as he peered at his wife, doubt all over his face. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Chelsea swatted his arm. “Just go inside. It’s going to be fun.”

He took a deep breath as he opened the door, gesturing her to go first. He obviously didn’t share her optimism.

Inside, Tucker’s Hideaway was dark, which Chelsea thought was probably a good idea since the interior was scarier than the exterior. The bar was a wooden booth, almost like they had built the building around it to shelter an already built tiki bar. The furniture consisted of rickety tables and chairs and wooden booths without cushions. As soon as they opened the door, everyone turned and stared at them, even the robust woman behind the bar.

“There’s still time to turn and run,” Darren whispered in her ear.

“Hey, there,” a small lady with dark red hair and a dusting of freckles across her cheeks called out to them as she crossed the filthy floor to where they stood.

“Too late now,” Chelsea whispered back to him as she plastered a fake smile onto her face. “We’re stuck.”

“Now you seem concerned.”

Chelsea extended her arm to shake the other woman’s hand, but the small redhead ignored the gesture, and instead, came in for a tight hug. She was just a little shorter than Chelsea, so the top of her head just about knocked Chelsea in the chin as she pressed her boobs against the newcomer. Not knowing what else to do and not wanting to seem rude, Chelsea embraced the other woman, hugging her back. As she did, she peered over the lady’s head at the others in the room and suddenly felt as if she was fresh meat for a wolf pack. Perhaps I should have listened to Darren.

“I’m Aggie,” the tiny redhead said. “Welcome to Tucker’s Hideaway. We just love this place because it’s usually so quiet, and we’re free to talk openly.”

Chelsea smiled at the woman. “I’m Chelsea and this is my husband, Darren. I’ll admit, I never even knew this place was here, and it looks like it’s been around for years.”

Aggie took the statement as a compliment and beamed with pride. “Oh, it has. We’ve been coming here for years. It doesn’t have all the amenities of a full-service bar, only serving beer and bottled pre-made drinks, but it’s quaint and quiet. No one is going to look at us oddly for being a little open and loving. C’mon,” she said, taking Chelsea’s hand. “I’ll introduce you to the others.”

So much for observing quietly in the background. Darren is going to kill me. “That sounds good. Thanks.”

The others seemed to belong to Tucker’s Hideaway and have probably been fixtures since the first clapboards were erected around the bar. Aggie took them to the first booth where three people sat and Chelsea hoped they were just regulars at the bar and not part of the group. She was disappointed. “This is Charlie,” Aggie said, pointing to a balding man who was missing his right leg. “He’s a founding member of the group. And this is Betty,” Aggie gestured to the only female in the booth, a thin gray-haired woman with a cigarette dangling from cracked lips. Her eyes were bloodshot and her skin seemed frail like parched paper. “And this here is Bernie.” She gestured to a short, middle-aged man wearing a frumpy outfit that seemed three sizes too big for him. This was not the group of people Chelsea hoped to meet on their maiden voyage out into the swinger community. Aggie turned to the three seated in the booth, all of whom raked Chelsea with their eyes. “This is Chelsea and Darren Davenport. Obviously, it’s their first time with us.”

And probably our last, Chelsea thought as she forced a smile onto her face.

The others all said hello, but no one moved to shake hands. They just stared as if wondering why Chelsea and Darren had ventured into their bar and why were they talking to them. Chelsea just waved and Aggie dragged her to the next group of people. As she followed, and not by choice, Chelsea began to look for that back door Darren spoke about before they entered the bar. Maybe she could pretend to go to the bathroom and sneak out the back. Surely, Darren would figure it out eventually and meet her outside.

“So, how long have you two been in the lifestyle?” Aggie asked as she led them to another table.

“This is actually our first adventure out,” Chelsea said, glancing back at Darren as she spoke. The look on his face told her that it might very well be their last adventure as well. She just smiled at him, putting on her bravest face. She could see in his eyes that he wasn’t buying it. Neither was she, to be honest.