THE TABLE
Loose gravel crunched under her car wheels as Meg turned off the dusty rural route and followed the driveway to its terminus in front of Josh's house. She parked and killed the engine but remained in the car staring out at the old bungalow she'd shared with Josh for almost five years. The house looked exactly as it had when she'd moved out six months earlier: sagging stairs leading up to a lopsided front porch, crooked chimney rising from a sway-backed roof bordered by loose eave troughs and swaths of paint curling away from grey, weathered cladding.
"Jesus Christ on a fucking bike," she said, shaking her head as she surveyed the dilapidated structure. "Did I really live in this shit-hole?"
Josh had inherited the house from his uncle Lee, a chronic alcoholic who had lost interest in the upkeep of his home during the last decades of his life, and it was in its current derelict state when Josh asked Meg to move in with him one night as they lay side by side in his bed.
"I know the place is pretty run down, Meggie," he'd said as he idly rubbed the nape of her neck. "But I got plans for it. Big plans. I promise you, this dump is gonna be a goddam palace when I'm through with it."
Meg, then a smitten nineteen-year-old deep in the throes of first love and flushed with afterglow from their recent love-making, insisted that the building's dire condition didn't matter to her.
"I don't care if you fix it up or not, Josh," she'd declared fervently, rolling onto her side to press her naked body against his. "I don't need to live in a palace. I just want to be with you."
Josh had apparently taken her at her word because as was so often the case with his promises, nothing came of his "big plans" to renovate the house and every year it had sunk a little deeper into ruin around the couple.
As she gazed out the window at the ramshackle dwelling, second thoughts about seeing Josh again crept into her mind and she had an urge to start the car and escape. A few miles down the road, she would send him a text saying that something had come up and she needed to postpone the visit, maybe indefinitely.
But before she could act on her impulse, the front door of the house opened and Josh strode onto the porch. He lifted his arm and waved a hand wrapped around a bottle of beer in her direction.
With her chance to flee gone, Meg stepped out of her car into the hot, mid-day sun and returned his greeting.
He had changed as little as the house but was in significantly better condition. Ten years her senior, he was still lean and fit-looking, and dressed in the wardrobe he'd always favoured: scuffed cowboy boots, faded jeans held up by a belt sporting a shield-sized buckle and a sleeveless t-shirt that showed off his muscular, tatted arms. Uncombed, curly black hair crowned a tanned face with deep-set blue eyes, high, chiseled cheek bones and a thick moustache in need of a trim. Despite her resolve not to let Josh get under her skin, she felt a prickly warmth low in her belly as the man she'd once considered the handsomest, sexiest male on earth sauntered down the stairs towards her.
"Hey there, Meggie," he drawled. "How're you doing? How was the drive up from the city?"
He moved in close to hug her but Meg deftly avoided his intended clinch and, taking a small step back, offered him her hand. Keep it friendly, she reminded herself, but not too friendly.
"I'm alright, Josh, and the trip up was okay," she answered. "How've you been?"
Grinning bemusedly at her artful dodge of his embrace, he clasped Meg's hand in his. "Just fine, Meggie. It's good to see you. Tell you the truth, I was a little surprised you decided to come up. I kinda figured you'd wrote me off for good."
Meg ignored the pointed sub-text of his last sentence and told him that she was glad he'd reached out to her.
"Yeah, well, I know you told me you didn't want anything from the house when you left. But like I said in my email, I made that table 'specially for you and it only seemed right I should check in with you to see if you wanted it before I chucked it."
"I appreciate that, Josh," she said earnestly. "I really do."
Meg had been wary when his email popped up in her inbox the week before. After the break up, Josh bombarded her with a barrage of messages so rancorous that she'd started deleting them without reading their content. He'd finally gone silent but Meg wondered if this email were a sign that he was remounting his attack. Full of trepidation, she began reading his words.
Hi Meg,
How are you? Big changes up here. I sold the house and I'm moving
to Arizona to start a new job. I need to clear all the furniture out
before the end of the month. It's mostly gone but I hung onto that
table I made you for your birthday a few years back. You always
said how much you liked it and I thought you might want it. If you do
you need to come up and get it. I'm too busy here to bring
it down. I'm around most days so anytime that's good
for you works for me. Let me know and I'll make sure I'm here.
Hope everything is going good for you down there, Meggie.
Josh
Relief swept over her as she realized his message was not another scathing rant. On the contrary, Josh's tone was surprisingly civil and conciliatory, as though in his way he was telling her that he had finally moved on and accepted their split without animosity. The table was the perfect peace offering, she thought, signifying as it did a memorable high-point in their relationship and that part of Josh's character that she had loved the most.
She had desperately wanted to end her relationship with Josh on good terms and his message suggested this was now a possibility. Seeing Josh again to accept his kind offer of the table would provide, as she saw it, an opportunity for closure and peace of mind for both of them. And because he was leaving soon, it was probably her last chance to end things on a positive note.
But was she ready to see Josh again, she wondered? She had never doubted that leaving him was the right move and remained resolute in her decision to live her life without him. But as much as she hated to admit it to herself, she still harboured feelings--physical and emotional--for Josh that, while diminished now, were still potent enough to make her miss him intensely at times. Josh had always known exactly how to press her buttons to get what he wanted from her and if the real intent of his offer were to try to persuade her to come back to him, she worried that she might still be too vulnerable to withstand him.
After much reflection, she decided that the chance to finally bring her relationship with Josh to an amicable close was too tempting to pass up. She would have to be on guard and take care not to succumb to the powerful chemistry that had existed between them since she had first met Josh shortly after graduating from high school. She would be pleasant but careful not to encourage his advances or lead him to believe there was any chance of reigniting a fire that, as far she was concerned, was best left extinguished. Confident that she could stand her ground no matter what Josh might have in mind, she messaged him to say that she would come for the table the following Saturday afternoon.
Now, standing face-to-face with Josh who still held her hand in his, she couldn't deny the feelings he aroused in her. But she refused to let her desire override her convictions. I've got this, she told herself. He has no power over me, no matter how thick the fucker pours it on.
"Let's get out of this sun, Meggie," Josh said, finally releasing her hand. "What can I get you? Soda? A beer maybe?"
"A glass of cold water would be great," she replied. "But I have to use the little girl's room first. It was a long drive up."
Josh nodded and led the way up the rickety stairs and across the porch into the living room, now empty of all furniture except the familiar ratty old couch they'd made love on countless times. "Go ahead, Meggie," he said, gesturing towards the bathroom. "You know where it's at. I'll get the drinks."
Meg relieved herself and returned to the living room to find Josh on the couch holding her water and a fresh beer for himself. The lack of seating options in the barren room left her no choice but to join him on the couch. Sitting as far away from him as possible, she accepted the glass and took a deep swallow of the cold water, conscious of his eyes on her as she drank.
"You're looking good, Meggie. I like your hair short like that," he said, referring to the spiked, trendy do replacing the long blonde curls that had cascaded down her back when he'd last seen her. "Looks like you got a whole new style going on for yourself. Don't remember you wearing dresses much before 'cept for special shit. Suits you. You always did fill out your clothes real nice."
Josh's comment and the way his eyes drifted over her curvy form made Meg squirm. What had she been thinking, she wondered, when she'd chosen to wear her new yellow summer dress for this visit? Low cut in front and sleeveless, it fit snugly across her flat belly and large breasts and flowed freely from her waist midway down her long, shapely legs. She suddenly felt exposed and uncomfortable under Josh's lascivious scrutiny but reminded herself that it was her right to wear whatever she wanted. If her dress got him all hot and bothered, well, that was his problem.
"So you're going to Arizona?" she asked, changing the subject. "That's a big move."
"Yeah, it is, I guess. Not much work 'round here these days. What with all those home reno videos on YouTube, folks are doing everything for themselves and I'm getting way less work than I used to."
Meg hid a smile. For as long as she had known him, Josh's carpentry skills were in hot demand all over the county and beyond. But he regularly turned down work offers and seldom stayed long at the few jobs he did take, preferring to spend his time fishing, fixing up old junker cars and drinking with his buddies at a tavern in town.
It was the money she had earned from her waitressing job at a local diner that consistently put food on the couple's table, even after she enrolled in a paralegal training program at the nearby community college. When she had complained about the burden of carrying their financial load while studying and acting as his maid and cook, Josh either turned a deaf ear or become indignant and enraged.
