36
She came in and sat on the couch. She seemed a little depressed. She was wearing that dark brown pants suit again. She slipped the jacket off and draped it over the coffee table and stretched, breasts straining at the yellow-and-tan stripe halter top.
“I heard about Ruthy,” I said, “Tree told me. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. It’s got me a little upset. I knew her for a long time.” She shook her head, put her feet on the table. “Well. I wasn’t expecting to see you here. I thought you’d be at the Barn, breaking in your table.”
“I just called Tree and quit… if you can quit a job before you start. You know that interview today? Got the job on the spot.”
“I’m glad, Jack. That’s such good news. I’m quitting myself… After what happened to Ruthy, I just don’t feel like staying around this town anymore.”
“Yeah, well. I can’t blame you.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Tonight. Right away. Got to be in Wisconsin tomorrow morning.”
“I think I’ll take off tonight, myself. Back to Florida.”
“I guess we both better start packing, then.”
“I guess. I guess I ought to change into something I can drive in, huh?”
She stood and undressed and let her clothes fall to the floor in a heap, and I took a long, memorizing look at that body. Then she went over and turned off the lights and went back to the couch and lay down and held out her arms to me.
We humped like a couple of teenagers in the back of a car, with a desperate, innocent horniness, as we might have if we’d met a long time ago, when we were different people. And I was still on top of her, still inside her, both of us breathing hard, sweating together, when I said, “Come with me.”
“Seems to me I just did.”
“You know what I mean, Lu.”
“Jack… thank you, Jack. Maybe… next time.”
We left the dirty dishes behind, and she got in her Stingray and followed me to the Interstate. She turned one way and I turned the other.
Maybe next time.
