It had not been a good week.
I had spent five days back east in my company's Charlotte office cooped up in a windowless room with a tall, gangly summer intern named Ray. I was supposed to be rolling out the new system software, but they were having hardware problems. And what do I know about hardware? Fly me all the way out to Charlotte just so I could watch some technician swapping circuit boards? So Ray and I hung around with our feet up on our little metal desks, and Ray bored me with trivia from his sophomore physics class.
I wish there had been more to talk about. I suppose discussing Ray's cosmology class could have been entertaining, had I been in a more receptive frame of mind. But I just couldn't get interested in hydrogen and gravity and mass and energy and Doppler shifts. Ray would say something I only half heard, and then he would pause, waiting for me to comment. At one point, I got tired of nodding and urging him to continue. After an awkward silence, I blurted out what was really on my mind:
"Saturday, Dawn and I had sex for the first time."
Ray laughed nervously, and he blushed as I told him how it happened. "We were just sitting on the couch in my apartment and there was nothing on TV. And I couldn't think of anything to say. So I kissed her. And before I knew it, she was in my bed with her hand in my pants, and I was tossing her panties on the floor. And you know what the weirdest thing was? Instead of enjoying the sex, I was worrying about what I needed to take with me on this trip."
"Is she good-looking?" Ray asked.
I sighed. Some people just don't get it. "Ray, have you ever been fucking a woman when all of a sudden you realize you need to be on a plane to Charlotte in ten hours and you haven't packed yet?"
"Um, no."
"I'll tell you a secret. It was pretty lousy sex."
Ray giggled. "Even lousy sex is better than no sex."
I shook my head.
What the hell was I doing in Charlotte? Why wasn't I back home in Portland, huddled up in bed with Dawn for the second time? Or the third time? Or the fourth time?
Every night I would call Dawn from my hotel room and tell her what I had accomplished that day. Or, if I hadn't accomplished anything, I would babble about the weather. "It's sunny and hot here. Brutally hot. The engineers think they found the problem, so maybe I can get started tomorrow."
"It's hot here, too," Dawn said.
"I'll probably be home on Saturday."
"I'll pick you up at the airport."
"You don't have to do that. I'll just catch an Airporter."
"It's OK. I want to."
She was very nice. I wondered what she thought about our distracted lovemaking the night before I left town. Had she noticed my tendency to drift? If she had, it didn't seem to bother her.
Or maybe she just hadn't noticed.
I've always had a hard time reading women. A previous girlfriend, Mary, used to assure me that she had orgasms during sex, but I could never tell. "It happened while you were inside me," Mary sometimes said.
I wondered if Dawn had had an orgasm. Her reaction during sex was pretty much the same as Mary's, which meant I didn't have a clue. Dawn didn't say anything afterwards, and I didn't really have time to talk. I got out of bed to pack, and she fell asleep a few minutes later.
The engineers finally found the problem (a bad power supply and two marginally defective memory boards), and I finished the software installation late Friday evening. The office manager volunteered to take me out to celebrate afterwards, but I declined. I wasn't in a partying mood.
I went back to my hotel and took one final walk around the grounds. The Charlotte city lights lit up the sky, and a heavy haze settled over the town. The crescent moon looked out of focus in the soft gray sky. I couldn't see a single star. No way to observe a Doppler shift that night. I was sure Ray would have been disappointed. I wondered if Dawn could see stars back in Portland. I ached to be home.
I took the afternoon flight out the next day. I was glad to get out of Charlotte, but the flight was long and unpleasant. I had almost no leg room, and the kid in the row in front of me played with his seat back the entire flight. I was tired, my neck felt tight, and a dull headache throbbed behind my right ear.
I felt a lot better when I got off the plane and found Dawn waiting for me at the gate. She greeted me with a big smile, a nice hug, and a little kiss. During our hug, I thought I could tell she wasn't wearing a bra. Was that a present for me? Or was it just to be more comfortable in the heat? We walked hand-in- hand out of the terminal, making small talk about the heat wave. She looked good. A little disheveled, but happy and alert. I was glad I didn't have to catch the Airporter.
Dawn drove me back to my apartment. She was one of those people who like to talk and drive at the same time. She chattered aimlessly about her job and the heat, but mostly about the heat.
"Do you have air conditioning in your apartment?" she asked.
"I'm afraid not."
"Uh-oh."
She was right. Inside my room it was hot and stuffy. I invited her in and offered her a glass of ice water. She sat on the couch and sipped while I went around opening all the windows. It was hot enough outside where I doubted the windows would make much difference, but the sun was beginning to set, and I hoped it would cool off quickly.
I propped open the balcony door. Dawn was just sitting there, a glass in her hand, looking at me. My shirt felt like it was sticking to my chest.
"How are you doing?" I asked.
"Fine."
"I'm going to go change my shirt, OK?"
"OK."
I left Dawn and went back to the bedroom, and I took off my shirt. It felt good to have it off, and I immediately felt a little less hot. I thought about Dawn in the next room, and whether I should change my slacks and shoes. Was she staying? I was glad she was there, but I wasn't sure I liked her being around when I hadn't had time to wash up. I did not feel especially fresh. I put my hand under my arm and, sure enough, I felt pretty sweaty under there. Ugh.
I stood and thought for a minute, my shirt in my hand. And then she knocked on the door.
"Can I come in?" she said, her voice muffled.
I cracked open the door and she peeked through the opening.
"Hi," she said, "do you mind?"
"No, I don't mind." I opened the door wide. "Come on in."
She stepped into the bedroom. "It's hot out there," she said.
"It's not much better in here."
"But it's nicer in here. I can talk to you."
"I was going to change my clothes."