I take a shortcut down a backroad to get home each night after work. The drive takes me by a small park where the neighborhood kids play. Everyday, she is there. You know who I mean, the girl from your past that you dreamt about, except now she's a woman. Most days, she would sit on a bench that faced the road, watching her niece play with the other kids, but her eyes would stray to the road when a car drove by. Some days she was alone, but still watching cars drive by, more often than not, she was drinking a beer with a cigarette in her other hand. She looked out of place sitting there on a park bench with her hair perfect, those shiny nails, and a glittering rock on her finger that could finance a third world country. I knew that her house was not too far up the road, had watched her once as she walked to that same spot,
her
bench, in my mind.
I knew her name, hell, every guy in town knew her. We had all loved her in school, wanted her, spent our youth jacking off thinking of her face between our legs. She was homecoming queen, prom queen, student this, student that. She had smiled, waved as expected when she won, but there was something behind that smile that seemed gone and hollow.
Back then, I had pictured her in my mind many times, her cheerleader outfit being pushed up by me, and not that brainless jock she later married. My hands had played across her tan skin to squeeze those pert tits, lips kissing hers, my hands fumbling into her panties, touching that place of velvet jelly inside her. I usually came at that image, drifting to sleep with sticky fingers.
Now, she lived down this quiet stretch of road from me, married to Mr. Asshole, still beautiful, but sad looking, too. Every day she was there, a drink or cigarette as her best friends, just looking at us. I never stopped, never had the nerve. I started to count on her being there. If she was gone, I panicked a little, wondering if something was wrong. If she had left him, left me also. But, she would always be back, her feet keeping beat to a tune only she heard.
One day, she waved. It happened so quickly I almost missed it. She waved at me. I didn't wreck, luckily. My eyes were so far behind me trying to see her, I clipped the tree with my side mirror, causing the spring to snap back hard, totally scaring the shit out of me. I jerked the truck back hard, too fast now... 'fuck' ...fishtailed, then went straight again. I was embarrassed and sweating from adrenaline. Great! Just great... she waves and I damn near kill myself. I didn't turn around. I jerked off that night, alone in the bathroom while my wife slept. I pictured her waving and her smile. Of course, she was naked now, her breasts tan, no lines. Her hips swayed as she walked to me, she smiled as we touched, it was electric. Her hands were cool, delicate as they touched me. I came as soon as she pushed her hands inside my jeans.
"God damn it!" I thought, "Fifteen years, and I still can't go all the way with her."
She was not there the next day, or the next. I started to think that she had wanted to talk with me, but after watching my near crash had thought better of it. Each evening as I came around the bend I sat up straighter, then slumped again as I drove by the empty bench. The third day she was there again. Sitting on
her
bench, drinking again as a misty rain started to drizzle on her. She waved at me again. I stopped clean this time, I had to talk to her. I had to know that this was real. I parked close to her, started to get out. My heart was pounding as her hips swayed as she walked up to me, pushed me back inside.
"Wait, not here. I wanna get in. We can go on down to mine, he's gone on a trip with his loser buddies. He called from Florida. It's all fishing and strippers by now." She climbed in my truck, her hand never leaving the beer or the cigarette clutched tight in one small fist.
"Do you remember me, from school I mean?" I asked her.
"Honey, I remember
everyone
from school," she took a drag on the smoldering cigarette; "I wondered why you never left here. I was a little disappointed that you never seemed interested enough to ask me out" she smiled wanly at that, like she was going back there in her head, then she shook a little, smiled at me again.
"Hell, you know I wanted to ask you out, but you were always with Mr. Sports, and I liked walking without a cane." I lied. I would never have had the nerve back then.
She laughed at me, not mean, just a giggle. Then more loudly until she spilled a little of her beer on her T-shirt. Damn! A nice wet spot right on her breast. Right there!
Thanks, I'm hard now
, I thought.
"I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you...Just thinking about him. How many times I fucked around behind him back then. I wished you'd asked me. I stopped after we got married. I wanted to be a good wife, no foolin' around. Things weren't half bad, but then he found out I couldn't have his litter. He never looks at me sober anymore. Fuck, he doesn't look at me at all now." She looked away at that last part, her hand covering her mouth. She blew smoke into the bottle, then she sucked down another drink.
She just looked straight ahead. I tried to process everything I had heard, put it together somehow. He never touched her anymore? What the fuck? 'Cause she couldn't have his damn kids? Like I said, asshole then, asshole now. I don't have kids either, but that was by choice. I didn't touch my wife 'cause I got tired of the slap on my hand that usually followed, or the boring routine if she didn't.
She sat quietly, sipping her beer as we drove to her home. The place sat back from the end of the road with no one else around for a mile in any direction. I have to admit her home was beautiful. With the money he made playing ball, it should have been. I can still remember the satisfaction I felt watching him blow out a knee running down a routine ground ball. Fucker! He didn't appreciate her then, didn't now. Now, he sold real estate, took trips without her. I wondered how anyone could let her out of his sight or touch.
When we stopped, she slid to the door, turning to look at me. I felt like I was being appraised. She looked at me like I look at strippers. But when she did it I felt comforted.
We talked about what we had both done since we graduated school a thousand years ago. She told me she had wanted to go to college, but he wanted her home, available to travel with him while he was on the road. She said after the first year, she traveled with him less and less. There's plenty of women available on the road⦠She said she did not mind really, he was lousy in bed, but she did like spending his money.
I just followed her, picturing how her mouth would look, saying 'yes' to me. I drank beer with her, and after six, I began to feel a little like I was swimming, like she was talking to me under water. I blinked once, then saw that she was next to me. I never saw her move, she was just there. When she leaned in this time I didn't come like in the dream, I just settled into the kiss, alcohol I guess making me bolder. It was just like I had imagined, maybe better, with her insistent tongue pushing inside my mouth. I tasted her beer, the cigarette, I loved it. She licked me, my hands bunching in her hair as I felt that droning start in the back of your mind when you haven't breathed in enough air. We broke then, gasping a little. She smiled at me and her eyes got a little dreamy while she wiped her chin.
"I've watched you for a while," she smiled, "I've thought about this. I asked around town what your situation was. You never seemed connected to us in school. Not in a mean way..., just like you didn't care. I always wanted to know why." She leaned over and started kissing me again.
As she did this I tried to comprehend what the hell she meant. I was a shy, underweight goof in school, to scared to ever approach her. But if that came across as mysterious to her, then great.