“Here.” He handed me the helmet.
I’d forgotten we’d come here on his bike, which meant I had the agony and pleasure of holding on to Darryl for the ride back. He dropped me on the sidewalk in front of my shop, and as I handed him back the lovely head covering, I said, “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.” A slow lazy drawl.
“I’ll see you soon?” Did that query emerge too desperate?
“First thing tomorrow I’ll be here with the first load of stuff.”
“Okay.”
He didn’t lean close to attempt another kiss. I wanted to kick myself for being such a dweeb. Could a middle-aged woman be a dweeb, or was there a different word for us?
A true pathetic sap, I stood on the sidewalk watching as he rode off. Then sighed. Back to work. I had just enough time to finish stripping and cleaning the shop’s windows before it was time to head over to the diner and take over from Marjorie.
When I entered the diner, she stood behind the counter, looking as bouffant eighties as ever with her hair teased into an impressive mane. Marjorie saw me and smiled.
“Thanks again, Naomi, for saying yes to helping out.”
“As if I could stand in the way of love.” Trish and Marjorie were good for each other. I’ll admit, at first it took getting used to. Two women in my life that turned out to not be as I expected, in that they liked girls, not boys. Their preference didn’t change who they were as people. They were both still cool and my best friends.
And my best friends wanted a night out together.
“Get out of here and get gussied up,” I said, shooing her from behind the counter.
“Do you think I need to fix much?” Her hand went to her hair.
“What? No. You look great. Awesome. I meant put on a dress or something comfortable and…” My foot kept hitting me in the mouth.
Marjorie beamed. “She does like it when I wear my gray sweater dress. Says it shows off my curves.”
“Then you should put it on. Get. Go. Shoo.” I sent my smiling friend out the door and proceeded to fill in her shift. The dinner rush went by in a blur, and by seven o’clock, I was done.
“Good job,” Orville said. A man of few words, he was big, burly, and bald, with a thick pelt on his jaw. More crept out in springy curls from the vee on his shirt. His forearms were thick like the rest of him and covered in tribal art tattoos.
“They seemed to really like that new dish you added.” Spinach and cheese stuffed chicken served with loaded cauliflower gratin.
“Do you?”
“Delicious enough I’m bringing some home.” I patted the bag with the container inside.
It brought a rare smile to Orville’s lips. “I’m testing out a sugar-free and crust-free cheesecake tomorrow.”
“Can’t wait.”
Orville insisted on walking me to my car, which I’ll admit I was fine with. I had an innate fear of the dark. It began in my college days when girls were warned to always go around in groups. It only got exacerbated as I got older when social media and the news gloried in showing how vulnerable my sex could be. Never mind the fact I’d never been attacked. I remained convinced it would happen if I didn’t take precautions.
Orville didn’t say much—make that anything—as we walked down the sidewalk to my shop. Only when we came abreast did he rumble, “Needs a name.”
I glanced at the blank marquee. “I know. I just haven’t quite figured it out yet.”
“Hmm.” He had no suggestion.
We headed down the alley to my parked car. Orville waited while I got out my key and then stood with his hands in his jacket pockets while I got in and started it. I rolled down my window. “Let me give you a ride to your car.”
He shook his head and, without a word, lumbered off. Such a strange man, and yet oddly attractive in spite of his reticent personality. Maybe even more given I considered every word he uttered and smile that tilted his lips a hard-earned gift. It made me wonder, briefly mind you, if he took that much time in bed.
At yet another quiver in my nether regions, I really wondered if it was time I did as that woman’s magazine suggested and masturbate on a regular schedule.
Or as Winnie had suggested just last week, “Why don’t you get a vibrator?”
I’d almost choked. I also ran from the room. I just wasn’t ready to discuss masturbation with my daughter. In my day, we didn’t talk about it, and I was kind of discomfited by how open everyone was these days.
What happened to the mystery of the act? To the privacy around it?
Then again, with today’s more liberal views, I now knew that Martin sucked as a lover. I’d gotten much better at figuring out what I liked.
Under the covers.
In the dark.
The road home proved eerie this late in the year. The sun had already set, making everything shadowy, turning the familiar into something else. My headlights illuminated the road, the trees flanking it, and the occasional glint of eyes from wild animals watching.
Nothing dangerous, not in these parts anymore. Maybe the occasional bear, but they didn’t usually attack people.
What I did need to watch out for was trees!
I had only a moment to react to the trunk that came crashing down. I slammed on the brake, and yet it wasn’t enough to stop me in time. The tree smashed down onto the hood of my car hard enough my air bags deployed and punched me in the face.
4
Dead. I had to be dead. My ears were ringing. I couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe.
It lasted seconds—an eternity. Then I heaved in some air, a big gasping gulp, and managed to tilt my face sideways. Ouch. That didn’t feel good. I kind of didn’t want to test the rest of me. I couldn’t feel anything.
What if I was broken? Paralyzed or worse? Maybe my lower body had been severed and I hadn’t noticed yet!
Panic had me huffing for air. It appeared thin, as if I’d run out. Would I suffocate before I bled out? The irrational panic was real, which meant I had to push against it.
Calm down.
Calm the fuck down.
The addition of the swear word had me taking in deep breaths. I took better stock of my surroundings, from the throbbing in my head, which had already eased, to the ticking of metal as it cooled.
Next, I wiggled my toes good and hard. Not paralyzed. I shifted against the weight pushing on me. The deployed air bag had probably saved my life. I dug fingers into the balloon. Beyond the panicked sound of my breath, I could hear the horn going off. A never-ending cacophony that barely made it past the roaring white noise in my head.
What the heck had just happened? Trees did not randomly fall. Not without wind at least.
I shoved at the airbag and flailed against the door until I could open it. Cool night air funneled in, and I took a ragged breath. Spilling out of my car, I took a few stumbling steps before I whirled to look at the damage.
The tree had completely crushed the front of my car. I doubted a mechanic could resurrect my motor. It was a miracle I’d survived. If I’d headed down that road half a second earlier or not braked in time…
I’d have died.
Instead, I lived. By some miracle, I wasn’t even injured.
I should buy a lottery ticket.
Approaching my car—oddly enough the lights still worked and illuminated the gloom—I could smell gas. I’d just quickly grab my purse and jacket and then call for help. Get someone to come pick me up.