by Jim Danner
(11/28/07)

A car turns in, crunching gravel. I get up, grab a shop towel and begin wiping the grease off my hands. I recognize the car and the woman behind the wheel. She sees me, but pretends not too. She doesn't look right at me until she finally climbs out of the car.

"Hi," she says and smiles. It's a big smile, but reserved. I bet she's wondering if coming here was a mistake. She sees what I'm working on and says, "You got another Corvair? Or is that the old one."

"No, this is new."

"It looks great."

"Thanks."

We look at each other. An awkward silence. I'm still wiping my hands.

Finally I laugh. "Well, goddamn, you look good."

She smiles, laughs a little, looks down at herself. She likes it.

"My favorite part of summer -- girls in tank tops."

She's nodding. She knows what I'm going to say. "...yes, yes..." she says.

"I love titties."

"You sure do know how to ruin a moment."

"You always had a particularly nice pair too. Especially when your nipples stick out like that." I gesture and she looks down and laughs.

"Oh Jesus." She folds her arms over her chest and glances around feigning self-consciousness.

"Shit, since when were you ever modest? You know, I was always fascinated by your nipples. I used to watch when they'd harden and try to determine why. Did you know they almost always hardened because of me?"

"Would you stop it? Please?"

"I'm serious. I used to do little experiments. We'd be walking around, and I'd look over and no nipples. I'd think, it's kinda cold out, nice breeze, but no nipples. So I'd touch your hand and pow! there'd go your nipples. Or I'd only have to say something. Or come close enough so you could smell me. Maybe it was my pheromones."

"Would you like me to leave?"

"No. I'd like to look at your nipples some more."

"You're impossible."

"Come on, let me look."

"No."

"Then why did you come over?"

"I just wanted to say hi and see what you were up to?"

"Well then why did you come over in a tank top and no bra?"

"Look, I didn't do it on purpose. I had no plans to come over today. It's just..."

"What?"

"Well, I was in Starbucks and Willie Nelson was singing 'Always on My Mind'."

"Oh," I said.

"And it made me miss you."

Another awkward pause and I feel like an asshole. She must see something in my expression because she comes closer and holds my hand. We look at each other and she nods. We don't have to say anything.

"Well...when you made the decision to come over, you shoulda put on a coat or something."

"It's eighty degrees out."

"Well, you have to make sacrifices. You could either wear a coat or I can talk about your titties. Actually, I was thinking about you, too."

"Really? Why?"

"I bought that Willie Nelson album. It's a Starbucks collection. Saw it sitting by the register and bought it."

"Really?" I can see she really likes the idea.

"Now don't go getting all choked up. I didn't do it for sentimental reasons. I haven't got a romantic bone in my body. In fact, I didn't even know the song was on the album till it came on."

"What did you do when you heard it?"

"Just listened, I guess."

"Did you miss me?"

Pause. "Yes."

"Did you cry?"

I laugh. "No, I didn't cry. I'm a man, goddammit, and men don't cry."

"Oh right. I forgot. Gotta always be Mr. Tough Guy. But I remember when you cried once."

I look at her and she realizes mentioning that was a mistake. She clears her throat. "Okay. I'm sorry. So how've you been, Jim?"

"Good. Great actually."

"Yeah?" She's looking at me. Looking around. "Can we sit down somewhere?"

"Sure."

"In the shade?"

"Sure." I take her out back where I've been splitting wood, kick a couple logs over so we can sit on them.

"Thanks. I've been on my feet all day."

"Except while you were sitting in your car, of course."

"You asshole. Okay, I was on my feet all day except while I was in my car. Are you happy?"

"Immensely."

She looks around. "I like this place. It's quiet."

"Except for the cars on Highway 99."

"But you can hardly hear them. I bet it blends into the background after awhile. Like camping by a river. Remember when we camped at Beacon Rock and went skinny dipping when we were drunk? Sitting in that dry streambed and the water wouldn't even cover my crotch?"

"They go in waves. In the morning everyone goes to work. Then in the evening everyone comes home. In between it's relatively quiet." I don't want to talk about Beacon Rock and my brother coming down. Getting drunk and she's one of the girls in the campsite next to us. Sitting in that damn stream, piss drunk, looking at each other, the water rolling down between her legs and pooling against her pussy. I liked watching that. The clear cold water, the insides of her thighs all white, her pubic hair flowing back against her flesh. So I crawled into the water on my belly and hooked my hands around her thighs and mashed my face between them. The water was cold cold cold and it made her pussy cold. Only the inside of it was warm. And she lay back as I licked her, stretched out under the stars on those smooth stones, mud all around us.

"Looks like a road you could lose a few animals on."

"Haven't yet. I think because of the fence."

"Are you seeing anyone, Jim?"

I don't answer right away. "No. How bout you?"

She looks like she doesn't really want to answer. Or maybe she just doesn't know how to. Finally she says, "Yes."

"Anyone I know?"

"No."

"Does he know you're here? Hanging out at your ex-boyfriend's house?"

"I'm not 'hanging out' here. I just stopped by to say hi."

"Okay. I'll rephrase it then: Does he know you're hanging out at your ex-boyfriend's house?"

She laughs. "You didn't even rephrase it."

I just look at her.

"All right. No, he doesn't know I'm hanging out at my ex-boyfriend's house."

"Is he the jealous type? Would he get angry if he knew?"

"No. I don't think so."

"Then why didn't you tell him?"

"I haven't talked to him yet."

"So you will tell him when you do talk to him?"

"No. Probably not."

"Is it anyone I know?"

"You already asked that."

"I did?"

"Yes. And the answer is 'no.' Somebody I met after we broke up."

"You wanna have sex?"

She doesn't answer. She looks off into the field and I can't tell if she's pretending she didn't hear or if she's making up her mind.

I don't say anything either. I just look at her. Her nipples are hard again and she's not doing anything to hide them. She looks over, sees I'm staring and takes my hand. She holds it in her lap. I lean over and she moves her head aside so I can kiss her neck.

I take my hand out of hers and cup her breast, bending that long hard nipple over. She reaches up to take my hand away and holds it in her lap again , looking down at it, tracing the veins or maybe only feeling the hairs with her fingers. I stop kissing her.

"Want to go for a walk?" She says.

"Sure."

"What's up in those woods?"

"Nothing at all. Logging roads. Few houses, but way back."

"Do other people go in there?"

"Not usually. I sometimes see my neighbor. Sometimes teenagers drive ATVs up there."

She's still holding my hand. She stands up and brushes at her pants. I don't get up right away and she tugs at my arm. I get up. My cock is hard against my jeans. She sees it and grins, biting her bottom lip. I reach down and move my cock so it's not so painful.

"I shouldn't be doing this," she says.

"Then don't."

"I want to though."

"Me too."

"Then don't try to talk me out of it."

"I won't."

"Don't say anything else, either. Or else I'll lose my nerve."

I mime locking my lips and throwing away the key.

"You're an asshole."

I wink.

"And that's why I always loved you."

She leans over and kisses the corner of my mouth. I feel her breasts on my arm as she does it and she feels my cock, putting her hand down there, sort of squeezing it. She laughs. I like that kind of laughter.

"We better hurry, huh?"

I nod emphatically and she laughs again.

Afterward, we're walking back and I'm thinking about the cum seeping into her panties. Shit. I should have worn a condom. She's holding my hand. Her cheeks are still flushed, I think from fucking, but it's probably only the heat. Her bangs are damp with sweat and so is her shirt.

She looks at me. "You're different now."

I look at her. She laughs.

"Not because we just had sex. I mean fundamentally different. I can't quite put my finger on it. I want to say more reflective, but you were always reflective. Maybe you're not so morose."

"I've never been morose."

"Ha. You were always miserable. About everything."

"Maybe..."

I let it trail off. I look at her chest. Her nipples are not hard. I think of the cum pushing into her panties while she walks, and I wince.

"What?"

"I don't know. I'm just happy here. Part of it is this place I guess. And part of it...shit, maybe even all of it, I don't know...is what happened to my brother. Maybe it put things into perspective."

She nods. We walk back to the Nootsak. I'm still holding her hand. She leans against her car and pulls me close. I lift her up so she's sitting on the car. She touches my beard. I lean close and kiss her then lean back. Her nipples are hard again. She sees that I'm looking at them and laughs and shakes her head. "You really are impossible."

"I know. That's why you always loved me."

She kisses me.

"Are you really seeing someone else?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to continue to see him?"

"Yes."

"So this was just...what?"

"One for the road?" She smiles tentatively.

"Fuck for old time's sake?"

"Something like that."

"Is it serious?"

"We're getting married."

"No shit?"

"No shit."

"That poor bastard."

"Hey!" She hits my chest.

"Jesus."

"What?"

"I just thought of something. You didn't come over here to invite me to the wedding did you?"

She laughs. "No." Thinks about it. "Hell no! Like I'd invite an ex-boyfriend to my wedding."

"Phew."

She thinks about it. "Would you have come?"

"No."

I'm thinking about the cum again. No condom. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. I look down and see a wet spot in her jeans. Or maybe I only imagine it. I think about falling down on my knees and sticking my nose there, sniffing her. Smell her warm cunt and my own cum. It makes me hard again. I step back so she won't feel it. We look at each other. There isn't anything else to say, so she says: "Well, I guess I better be going."

"Yeah, he might be missing you."

She looks at me. I don't know if she's angry. But then it fades and she only appears sad. She comes close again and kisses me and this time it feels final. She lays her hand flat on my chest and I feel it begin to fall, sliding down my skin, lingering as long as it can, then gone.

"Goodbye, Jim."

"Bye, Tina..."

She leans in the angle of her car door a bit longer, just looking at me, then blows me a kiss and climbs in and backs up. She drives away and I watch her. Then wave.

"...and take care," I mutter, looking at the road and the tall grass, the sun slanting through the trees

And when she's gone I turn around and pick up my oily rag. "Fuck."

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