Rough Hands 2

His hand was gently massaging her breast and tweaking her nipple as they kissed. Tongues playing with each other as they always had. The hand started sliding across her naked belly towards the area between her thighs. Gently, so gently. No rush. She stiffened.

"STOP! NATHANIEL, STOP! I CAN'T DO THIS ANY MORE! Get dressed We need to talk." She jumped out of bed, threw her clothes on and started pacing in the kitchen of his apartment.

"Eléa, what's the matter? What's going on?"

She slammed her engagement ring onto the table. "Nathaniel! I can't marry you."

"What? Why? The wedding is in a couple of weeks!"

"We're too different. We just want different things. I just finished my PhD in French Philosophy....."

"That's great, Eléa. Why didn't you tell me?"

Holding her hand up to quiet him, "...and you finish your veterinary degree next week. I dream of strolling along the Seine in Paris and all I can see is you with your arm up the back end of some cow or horse trying to reposition the baby. Or whatever you do. Makes me gag just thinking of it.

"But look at you. You're like all muscle and bulk. And hair. God, you have hair everywhere. But it's your hands, Nathaniel. I can't stand to have your hands touch me any more. Look at them. They're all thick and covered with cuts and callouses. They're rough and scratch me. I know you try to be gentle. You're always gentle, but they make my skin crawl.

"I thought it was kind of neat that you were also a farrier. A French word and it gave us a bond, but look at those hands!"

"I'm sorry, Eléa. You never said anything. After two and a half years or so, why now?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does matter. What? Do you want some nerdy, effeminate guy with wire rims with super soft hands? Like that guy Tristan? A guy who's never done a lick of work in his life?"

Her eyes widened with shock, then a wave of guilt and maybe shame crossed her face. He noticed. "That's it! You're fucking Tristan!"

"No, Nathaniel. I...."

"Don't lie to me Eléa! I can tell by looking at you. HOW FUCKING LONG HAVE YOU BEEN FUCKING TRISTAN?"

"Nathaniel. I'm sorry. It just sort of happened. We have so much in common and spend so much time together...."

"HOW LONG?"

Looking down, "About two months or so. I wanted to tell you, but..."

"So that's what all the late night meetings about your thesis were about. Real fucking nice. So why tell me now?"

"I love you, Nathaniel. I..."

"Quit fucking calling me that. No one on the planet calls me Nathaniel. MY NAME IS COOP! Just like your real name was Eleanor, then Elle and then as you put on it airs it became Eléa. And Tristan's real name is probably dickwad or something. Oh, and farrier is English, not French.

"So why tell me now? Why have my hands suddenly become so freakish and abhorrent that they sicken you?"

"Because I want to be with Tristan....And I'm leaving for Paris tomorrow morning first thing."

"With Tristan..." she nodded. "You're leaving tomorrow morning and you decide to tell me when we're in bed? What the hell, Eléa? And the hands? And my grotesque muscles?"

"I'm sorry Nath...Coop. I...I shouldn't have said anything. I should have just left."

"Yup. But feel free to stick as many daggers in my heart and in my back as you want before you go. How the hell a small town, Georgia girl like you can develop the elitist view of the world is beyond me. I guess that's what a monthly check from Dad'll do for you.

"I'm going out for a while. Why don't you gather up your stuff and go back to your apartment. Should have know there was a problem since you never got rid of it.

"And while you're strolling the streets a Paris discussing Jean-Paul and the plight of the downtrodden working man, please remember, THE HANDS OF THE PEASANTS ARE NOT FUCKING SMOOTH! The guys that went to the guillotine had smooth hands. Have a great life! I hope you find what you're looking for."

He walked out and slammed the door.

Tears filled his eyes as he climbed into his truck. He looked at his hands. Felt his arms. Am I really that much of a freak that women don't want me to touch them? I never dated much before Eléa. I mean Elle. None of the relations lasted very long. Maybe I'm the reason! They couldn't stand for me to touch them!

Damn. I guess I could wear gloves more....No, I really can't. You lose all the touch you need. Too late to be a techy or accountant. God, I would hate those. Give me the outdoors, working with animals, and having my own yard and garden to tend to....Perfect.

He pulled into the parking lot, tears still running on his cheeks and called home. "Hey, Mom. Some bad news. The wedding is off. No, just found out tonight. I guess I'm just such an ugly freak that she started having an affair with another PhD candidate and is leaving with him for Paris tomorrow.

"I have a couple of exams tomorrow, then I'll start making phone calls with you. Sorry for all the work and time you've spent with Mrs. Smithdale getting things set up for the wedding. I'll check in with her folks tomorrow and see what I can do I help. I assume she's told them. Yes, yes, I'll be fine. It just sorta hurts. A lot! Love you too."

He walked into the bar and ordered a bear and a burger. A couple of his friends from school came in. "Coop! Hey, good to see you, man. What are you enjoying one of your last nights of freedom? Why aren't you home getting lucky with Elle?"

"She called off the wedding."

"What? No way! You guys have always been so great together. God, Coop. I'm so sorry. Why?"

"Seems she started having an affair a couple of months ago with a friend of hers. And because I have too many muscles and my hands are ugly and calloused."

"What the fuck?" He nodded. "Well, you do have more muscles than any human, or animal for that matter, should have. You're like some plow horse or something. And your hands are kind of....gnarly from all the stuff you do..."

"You're not helping, George," his other friend said. "Pay no attention to this idiot, Coop. Half the girls in school are drooling for a crack at you."

"Hell, Coop. I told you you should stick with dogs and cats and all those cute little critters instead of all those beasts you like to tangle with so much. You'd be fat and out of shape in no time. Get a nice little roll around your waist just like me. And, hell. Just look at my hands. Not a callous on them. The delicate hands of a surgeon." They all laughed.

"Really, Coop. This is awful. What can we do to help?"

"Nothing. I just have to make some phone calls tomorrow after exams. To start my list. You two are now officially notified that the bachelor party, rehearsal dinner, wedding and reception have been cancelled. Sorry about your tuxes. Maybe you can still take them back. I friggin' bought mine. Her idea."

His friends tried to cheer him up, with no success. He drove by his apartment several times waiting until her car was gone. Then went in and spent a sleepless night. Hurt, betrayal, loss,....and shame. What if what she'd said was true?

His exams went well. He'd been ready. He called Mrs. Smithdale. "Oh, hi, Coop. Is Elle there with you? We're supposed to be going for her final fitting, and then the cake, and...well, you know. So much to do!. We're getting down to the wire..."

"What! She didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what, Coop?"

"Linda, look, I'm sorry. I hate to be the one...Elle called off the wedding last night and left for Paris this morning with that guy Tristan."

"She did what?"

"I'm sorry. I guess she's in love with Tristan and decided she didn't want to marry me."

"Tristan? That little scrawny guy with wire rims?"

"Yup."

"Oh, Coop. I'm so sorry. She never said a word about any of this to us. Are you OK? Is there anything I can do? Have you told your Mom? She went to Paris?"

"Yes to all those, Linda. Look, it sounds like there's a lot of things that need to be cancelled and taken care of. You all have done so much work....I'm working with my mom to take care of our side of things, but what can I do to help you and Mr. Smithdale out? Sorry about all the deposits and stuff.

"Just give me a list and I'll start working on them."

"Just like you, Coop, to buck up and get 'er done, as we say. Don't you have more exams this week?"

"Yes, but I can still help...."

"Nope. Don't worry about a thing. I'll get my lazy assed husband to quit watching football and help. What about her apartment and all her stuff? And her car!"

"I'll check. I assume she'll want to keep her apartment for when she returns. If she returns. But I have no idea. She told me last night, out of the blue, and gave no details."

"Oh, Coop. I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what she's thinking. Remember, just because the wedding is off, doesn't change anything. We love you like our own son." He could hear her crying. "Tristan? Oh, my God." Sniffling then blowing her nose.

"Sorry, Coop. You concentrate on your tests and let us handle everything. We're going to have to have a reckoning with that girl. She needs to get a job, not go gallivanting off to France. Although I have no idea what kind of job she can get with that fancy degree of hers.

"When do you start your new practice?"

"Well, now..., now I guess I'll start right after exams."

"Please, Coop. Stay in touch. Let us know how you're doing and if you hear anything from her please let me know. And, remember. We love you."

TWO YEARS LATER

He walked into the diner. The eyes of the waitress lit up, she stopped what she was doing and hustled over to him. "Doc! It's great to see you again. You look beat. Tough week I guess. And you still have Bob Brown's horse about to drop one.

"Yup. Been pretty busy. A lot going on this time of year."

"What can I get for you? One of my special burgers?"

"All your burgers are great, Mattie. But I think I'll have the regular one with mayo. And a beer."

"Perfect! Why don't you have a seat right here? I'll bring you your beer and get working on that burger."

"Thanks, Mattie."

OK, Crystal. You can do this. Just have a little back bone and do it! I opened the door to the diner and looked around. I could feel the escaping breeze blowing my blonde hair. i shook my head to enhance the effect. what the hell, Crys?

He glanced at me. Our eyes met. He smiled and nodded at me and then started looking out the window of the diner again. So much for the grand first impression. Not like the movies where the guy is struck speechless.

I should leave. What if he doesn't like me? What if he thinks I'm ugly? I straightened up to my full 5'4" height. Shoulders back. And here goes....

"Why Crystal Buerger. What are you doing in my fine establishment?"

"I have a date."

"Really? You never go out. I figured you'd changed lanes or become celibate or something."

"Nice, Mattie. Nope. Unlike some folks, I'm just being choosy about who I mate with."

"Who's this date with?"

"That guy right over there."

"The Doc? No way. None of us have been able to even get him to take a second look at us. But I think he likes me. He keeps coming in here."

"You're the only eating place in town, Mattie. He comes in the Farm & Feed all the time, too."

"What would he want with a tiny little ole thing like you? Hell, he'd probably break you first day out of the gate. When he mounted you like a mare in heat, he'd likely break your ribs and stuff."

"Mount me like a mare in heat.....That's quite a colorful image, Mattie."

"Regardless. He needs some big old strapping girl like me."

"Yea, OK. We'll see. I'll make my own way. Good to see you, Mattie." Damn. She's an ass, but she's a knockout. And if the Doc's not interested in her....then....What's my dad say? You can't ever win if you never try?

What's the worst that can happen? He turns me down. I make a fool of myself. I feel worthless and inadequate... Oh, for the love of God. Stop this shit, Crystal. You're vibrant, alive, smart, good looking, other guys want to go out with you...I think. JUST DO IT!

I slid into he seat across from him. He looked up. Surprised. "Oh....ah....Hi."

"Hi, Doc. I'm going to join you if that's OK."

"Uh, sure. I..."

"So, Crystal? What can I get for you?"

"I'll have what the Doc is having." Without the spit and pubic hairs I hope.

"Sure. And, Doc?" In a somewhat sultry voice. "I'll be right out with yours. And, I'm going to bring you a piece of my very special apple pie for my special guy."

"Uh, thank you, Mattie."

"I'll have a piece too, please."

"Sorry, Cry's. That's our last piece." I smiled. Of course it is.

"She has the hots for you, Doc. And...she's beautiful."

"What? No way. We just talk when I come in here. She's not...We've not...." Oh, so he's one of those. Half the girls in town are ready to yank off their britches and fall on their backs and he's just bee bopping around completely oblivious. If this romance is going to happen, I guess I'm going to have to take the bull by the horns.

"You two seem...uh, close?"

"Could say that. We went to high school together. I made cheerleader, she didn't. I got into UGA. She didn't. I let it go. She won't. But, anyway...

"We have to talk." He winced. Oooooh. This one has some scars. His jeans have a few rips in 'em as we say. But those are the kind of jeans I like. Like the best trucks have some rough miles on them. Makes 'em appreciate a new set of tires.

"What's it take to get the town's most eligible bachelor interested in one of the town's most eligible bachelorettes?" He choked on his beer. "You come into my dad's place several times every week to get stuff, for two years, and you hardly even recognize me as a human being...."

"I'm sorry. I guess..."

"What's wrong with me, Doc? I've tried everything I could think of short of taking my top off to try and get you to show a little interest in me and....nothing! Am I that ugly, Doc?"

"Oh, God, no. You're beautiful. I..." Well that's a good start.

"Do I have to whinny or mooo like your patients to get you interested? I can do it if I need to."

"Uh, no. I..." Good, he's off balance.

Here goes. "It's OK, Doc. Let's start at the beginning. We need a proper introduction. Doc, you've been coming in the Farm & Feed for two years." And I've had the hots for you the whole time. "And I don't even know your full name. Just initials on your charge card and no one on this planet could read your signature. So what is it?"

"Nathaniel Bartholomew Cooper Logan, Jr."

"Wholly crap. That's like a name and a half. Throw in a Ferdinand, Frans Joseph or something and you'd sound like some royal person. Are you of royal blood, my Prince?"

He laughed. Good. "No. Very humble beginnings. Dad sold insurance. Mom taught in high school."

"That's not humble. Those're great. So you go by Nathaniel?" A look of pain shot across his face and he looked down. Damn! I'll have to keep away from that one. "Nate? Bart? I like both of those. Or is it Junior or JR?" He smiled.

"Coop."

"Like chicken coop?"

Laughing, "Yes. Like chicken coop."

"I guess you've never heard that one before."

Smiling again. "Just under a million times. So what's yours, Miss?"

"Crystal Marie Buerger. Senior. No, just kidding. No senior."

"So your mom thought you were born with pretty green eyes like an emerald or you were precious like a diamond?"

"Why, Coop, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you were being charming." I batted my eyes and fanned my face. "But as you know, Doctor, green eyes start off blue and yes, I am precious, but I'm not sure my folks realized how lucky they were until they had sons.

"No. I wish it were one of those. But alas, it's not. My dad liked those stupid little square burgers they sell so much that that's why he named me Crystal. Crystal Buerger." He choked trying to hold back a laugh. "Quit your laughing, Coop. You're gonna to choke on your food. And if you spray any burger on my new shirt...Well..

"Anyway, at least that's what he tells me all the time. My mom never would say otherwise. I even asked her when she was in the process of leaving us for a better place. She just smiled at me and told me she loved me and that I would find out in the end. My brothers all got regular names."

"How many?"

"Three. Luckily I was the oldest and could beat the heck out of them to keep 'em in line."

"So, how do you like working at your father's place, you know.... for your father?"

"Let's get something straight Mr. Fancy Pants Veterinarian, I ain't no slouch. I don't WORK at the store, I RUN the store. I manage it. In a couple of years it'll be mine. Not what I had planned for my life's work, but life gets in the way.

"What did you want to do?"

"Well, I have an Agricultural Econ. degree from UGA and my MBA from Wharton's and was going to be a trader/investment kind of person working for one of the big national firms. I already had a job lined up, but then my mom got sick and....well, family comes first you know."

"That's incredible Crys. Is Crys OK?" I nodded. "I never suspected..."

"That hole you're digging is getting deeper, Coop."

"No, no! Not that I thought you were incapable of that or...."

"At ease, Coop. It's OK. So I run the store. Tuned it up quite a bit and added a number of product lines. I do some consulting for the bigger guys in the region. And help the small guys informally. There are so many different insurance plans for their crops and it's so hard to figure how and when to sell your crops and livestock so you don't get screwed by the middle guys. Heck, even I can't keep it all straight with all my graphs, charts, forecasts and all that.

"I know you probably get paid in hunks of meat and eggs and stuff, but if you need help with your books or taxes or those sorts of things, I'll be glad to help.

"Tell you what, Coop. Finish that burger...do you want my other half? You look like a more than one burger kinda guy. Finish up and then you can escort me to that fancy pickup of yours rockin' those 35's on it and take me to the lake. We'll watch the fireflies and stuff.

"Crys, I....."

"Nope! I'm not going take no for an answer, especially since you hurt my feelings for two years and ate half of my burger. So let's go. I'll even pay since you probably just have a sack of hamburger meat or something to trade. You leave Mattie a tip," whispering, "but not a big one. Service wasn't that good and I don't want you giving her any ideas...."

She jumped out, dropped his tailgate, and jumped up. "Come on, Coop. Don't be shy. I promise not to hurt you....much. No, just kidding. Not that kind of girl. No kissing on the first date."

"Me either."

"You're full of crap. If so, you're the only guy in America. Isn't it beautiful here? I love it. I come out here after work and watch it get dark and the stars come out. I know, pretty corny, right?"

"No, it's nice. Nice to take the time to enjoy the simple things around you."

My God, this guy is even better than I thought. We've been talking for an hour just watching it get dark. Maybe now's the time. "The time has come, Coop. Are you going to kiss me or what?" He choked. "Or are we just going ta sit on this damn tailgate 'till my beautiful calves look like some of our Georgia watermelons?"

"I thought..."

"I'm breaking the rules. Now hug me and give me a kiss."

"But what about MY rule about no kissing on the first date?"

"Coop, you are so full of crap your eyes are brown. I can see that dumbass grin behind those whiskers. Now do it, before I change my mind. Remember. Never keep a lady waiting." That feels nice. "No. Kiss me like you mean it, not like I'm your aunt or sister or something." Damn! His lips are great, his beard is so soft, and he knows just how to use that tongue. Very promising. Crap! Did I just sigh?

"Holy crap, Coop. You're like some kind of amoeba or like those moth men in the movies or something. You wrap me all up and I just disappear inside of you." He winced, more pain filled his face and he looked away.