Work took away Zizakh again. Would you ever take me with you? Akheri texted him. If they ever send me anywhere more interesting than Provo, he replied. The same night Zizakh told her he arrived at his destination to find the upper management being escorted out of the building. At that moment, catastrophe management replaced emergency containment. The result for him: the trip became open-ended.
On the way to her job Akheri swung by his house, guided by the half-formed idea she should check if his A/C had stopped working.
Akheri found a parked white minivan speckled in rust and dirt. The front door of the house was open. Before Akheri could call a timid hello, a youngish woman walked past the patio doors. The A/C kept up a fine drone. She heard Big barking. The woman knelt with treats. She made it easy to see her voluptuous shape. She wore a shirt tied beneath her sternum, black swim shorts, and sandals. A pile of blond hair topped her long head. Akheri turned to go. But Big bounded to the window, barking and hopping.
"Hello," the woman said from the door. "I'm Simka. Are you also part of Team Zizakh?"
Trying to sound less jealous as she felt, Akheri said, "He asked me to make the sure air conditioner was working. And the yard. To check the yard for debris, I mean."
Big became insistent. Simka invited Akheri to join her for the early morning workout. Akheri's emotions swirled around two poles: one, her discomfort of seeing another woman obviously comfortable with both the space and the dog; and two, shame at such a negative reaction. Zizakh had told her he kept a dog caretaker on retainer.
Simka's obvious good energy dispelled Akheri's mood in the time it took Big to finish his morning workout.
Simka directed Big into the air conditioning. As the dog lapped at its water, she withdrew a jug of lemonade from the refrigerator and poured two glasses over ice. Akheri again fought down a crawl of jealousy. The woman seemed entirely at home. Of course, she undoubtedly had known Zizakh longer, probably far longer. Simka continued to talk in a way that was engaging rather than chatty. Akheri paid attention in time to hear Simka's description of her history with Zizakh.
"My -ex dumped my belongings in the yard," she said, "and it was take the first available situation or sleep in the parking lot at the mall. This woman's Addams Family-ass boarding house had one room left--in the attic. No windows. I did whatever odd jobs I could find to get out of that situation at light-speed. Doggie daycare provided the most reliable gig by far. Zeez had just adopted this lunatic pup and did not speak Dog. At all."
Five minutes later Simka dumped the ice into the sink. She had to get in the rest of her stops before the real heat of the day descended. On the way out she surprised Akheri with a brief hug.
By noon, Akheri knew she wanted to run into Simka again. As a rule, Akheri's attractions for women steadily grew alongside a friendship. This person's allure, however, triggered her the way men did. Akheri's mind's eye considered and reconsidered Sikma's body. But her work had a way of deadening emotion--the will to live, at times--and by the end of the day Akheri settled into a too-familiar state of repression.
Akheri was a sweaty mess long before her car's air conditioning revved up. At home she hurried through a shower and into a newish, shortish floral dress.
She arrived as Simka unlocked the front door. Simka wore the same clothes as in the morning. Her sunburn made it clear she had spent the day outside. Akheri was surprised to hear the solar panels had arrived.
"Solar panels," she repeated.
"Oh. I assumed you stopped to check they arrived. Hey, let's say you did. Brownie points."
Simka put a hand on Akheri's arm and guided her around the corner of the porch. The panels remained in boxes. On the way to the curb Akheri asked, trying to sound casual, how long she had known Zizakh.
"About five years," Simka replied. "To be honest, he's one of my best clients."
Having made the trip across town, Akheri wanted to help Zizakh in some small way. Big declined her company, as usual. She swung a yard tool like a pendulum, trying to push the edge of tall grass further from the house. The tool, whatever you called it, had a wooden handle. It soon hurt her hand. She unwrapped the hose and sprayed the strip of grass on either side of the property line until it looked good and damp.
Akheri emerged from the driveway as a woman slammed the door of her pickup. It took a moment for the visitor to notice--her sunglasses were aimed at her tablet--but when she looked up, she crossed the lawn. Akheri saw the dark slacks and polo of the fire department. The woman brushed back her hair and put on a baseball cap.
How many attractive women does he keep around?
"My name's Mayim," she said with her hand out. Her firm grip went with her strong build. Akheri had heard both women and men described as built to last. Mayim fit the bill. Zizakh volunteered as a fire watcher, she said. With the fire threat creeping higher, she stopped to check the defensible space--Akheri nodded in what she hoped was a knowing way--and the dryness of what she called the tinder.
Mayim tilted her head and said, "I've seen you out and about."
Akheri listened to the description of the bar. "It's an after-work place at my job. I have no idea how we settled on it. Is it a firefighter hangout, too?"
"Not exactly," Mayim said with an odd laugh. Seeing Akheri's expression, she added, "Around town it's considered a female hangout."
"Oh."
"New in these parts?"
"About five months. There was a job here. I--well, nothing special."
