The
Lyft
Mrs. S Hartford
Darren was exhausted and elated. He had a textbook understanding of what he had gotten himself into that day. But, the reality of hiking up 4000 feet over 3 miles of snow packed trail provided a lesson he could feel in his body. Driving the winding canyons back to the resort, he idly wondered how these intense physical experiences always gave him a different understanding of who he was, and where he fit in the world.
"Sorry. I'm running on," he grinned at the other guys. "As you can tell, I'm pretty amped after that." He took another long pull from one of the many West Coast IPAs they had stocked away at the beginning of the trip. "Ok. Just one more. Promise. Here's me at the top," he laughed holding the phone out for the rest to see.
"Right on, man! You're killing it out here," his friend Mark intoned with his characteristically supportive but flat affect.
"Nice dude!" Tim drawled. Tim was forever going to be from Southern California. He hadn't lived there in almost 20 years, yet three extra syllables still stowed away in his every expression, just waiting to hop off and join the rest of us in the Midwest.
"Yeah, I wanted to hike while we were out here, and that was the real deal. I actually thought I was going to do another trail in the morning, but hell no. For now I'm going down to the hot tub to soak while I slowly get a little drunk and think about the driving tour I'll do instead." Darren finished his beer in one gulp and turned toward his bedroom suite.
"Right on man. Dinner will be ready in about an hour. No big deal though. Tacos stay good all night."
"Cool, thanks. I'll be back in a bit,"
This was the second time that Darren had gone on this trip to the mountains with his friends. The others had been doing it for years and they had a fairly tight routine, ski, soak, drink, rinse, repeat. He still couldn't really get the hang of the skiing, but fully intended to indulge in all the rest. He poured a characteristically strong cocktail into a tall paper cup and gingerly walked to the elevator resisting the urge outright limp. Luckily it was a very short trip, and the glass walls enclosing the spa facilities offered views of the mountainside that made some simple aches easy to forget.
The spa was almost always empty this late in the season, and so were the slopes. It's one of the reasons his friends liked coming out for this particular week each year. Darren was a little disappointed and then a little bit intrigued when he found he wasn't the only one late to the after-ski soak, disappointed because she had taken the spot next to the strongest jet in the room-sized tub, intrigued because, like so many skiers, her toned body seemed to glow with an energy that matched the wild mountain range outside.
Darren pulled his shirt over his head and slid off his flip-flops. He felt himself moving hesitantly.
"Hey, will you hit the button again while you're up? It's just about to run out and this leg is killing me." He could hear her smile and a kind of carefree confidence in her voice without even looking. But, he couldn't resist.
"Sure," he called over his shoulder noticing that she had her back turned to him and was intently massaging the length of her leg against the bubbling jet.
He grabbed a towel from the rack and tossed it toward where he'd left his room key and shirt. Slowly he eased into the steaming water and took up position in a rounded corner where two forceful jets intersected. He felt the knots in this legs and the grip on his shoulders begin to loosen. He took a long drink from the cup he had set to the side, rum and some kind of fruit punch that Tim had insisted on buying. He was glad for it. The heat of the roiling water, the tropical zing in his drink, and the purple glow of the sunset on the snow-covered slopes combined a new and exciting mix of sensations.
Darren casually looked around the large tiled room letting his gaze linger on his companion's back. He traced the swirls of her dark hair across her shoulders, the tips wet from just grazing the water. He felt a slight stirring as he watched her strong hands kneading into her calf and working her way up to her thigh. He began working on this own aching muscles, pushing his shoulders hard against the forceful jets of water. His mind drifted into possibilities.
"So, you ski Chico Pass today?" He barely registered the question through the panic he felt at having been caught in his own thoughts.
"Uh, no." he managed pretending to be fascinated by one of the high peaks outside. "I hiked up to Jackson Summit over in the Western range. Truth be told, I'm not really a skier. I just came out with my buddies to get away and climb around in the rocks some."
"Ah, gotcha. Where are you getting away from then?"
"Detroit."
"No kidding. I'm a midwesterner too. Columbus, Ohio."
"Ah, right on. I always say Detroit because people know the city. I'm actually from Monroe, MI. It's a small city South of the D," Darren explained mostly just to have something more to say. "Do you come out here often?" He cringed at the sound of this cheesy pick up line. It's not what he meant. She seemed to understand and smoothed over his momentary fluster with a smile.
"Well, these are timeshares!" she laughed. "But, no. We traded for this week's slot. This is our first time here. It's nice, but it's a ghost town," she exclaimed looking around the empty room for emphasis.
They both sunk into a comfortable silence. Darren took another drink from his rum concoction. He noticed the steaming hot water and strong drink were taking effect. The woman at the other end of the tub had turned her attention back to massaging her legs. He watched. He didn't stare. That would be rude. But, he didn't try to hide his interest either. He just, lingered.
She had shifted, offering Darren her full profile rather than her back. Slowly she raised one leg out of the water, stretching and pointing her toes toward the ceiling, then the other. A delicate sliver anklet slid midway up her toned calf. The movement caught his eye, and he paused for a moment trying to make out the word-shaped pendent. Her lips pursed into a playful smirk as she sank her leg back into the water and moved to adjust the piece of jewelry.
Darren looked back to his drink. "Alright, finish this and then back to the room," he thought. "Dinner, cheesy action movie, pass out. That's what I'm doing tonight."
~^~
"Hey, I'm back," Darren called out through a slight shiver as the warmth of the spa began to drain from his body. "I'm showering. Be out in a few."
"Hey," Tim called back from the front room. "Tacos are ready. We left the stuff out. Help yourself."
Darren eased out of his wet swimsuit, hung it on the door, and carefully stepped into the shower. His body was going to hate him in the morning. He stretched his back under the pulsing shower head, hot water and soap bubbles streaming from his body. His thoughts returned to the scene downstairs. What the hell was that about? What was that anklet? And what about that smirk? He felt a rush and swelling, but wasn't going to scratch that itch with his friends in the next room. He gave himself a firm, almost painful, squeeze and held it for a moment before slowly letting go and turning off the tap.
Finally dressed and relaxed, Darren emerged from his temporary bedroom to join the others. "Seriously? This movie?!" he teased as he walked in front of the tv.
"Dude, it's a classic. And, you can't argue with a classic."
"Classic what? Classic summer comedy circa 1993?" Mark said mocking Tim's critical evaluation.
"Haha, 1991. Thank you very much!"
"This looks great," Darren said as he began assembling plate for himself. "Thanks for cooking."
"No problem. We had thought about drafting you to do all the cooking, but figured we give you a break this time," Tim laughed.
"Yeah dude, he does all the cooking at home. Give the guy a break out here," Mark cut in. "What is Melissa doing for food all week while you're gone anyway?"
Darren laughed. "Yeah, I worried about that before I left. She assured me she had a solid plan. I think it's several rounds of Chinese food, pizza, and the Bistro."
"Perfect. Is she doing the Bistro tonight?"
"Yeah, it's Friday. I think she's there with a couple coworkers. I haven't had a chance to text yet. Pretty sure that was the plan though. You know, typical Friday in Monroe."
Darren devoured his meal and two more strong beers like he hadn't seen such comforts in months. Satisfied and getting sleepy, he grabbed his phone to to check in with Melissa.
"Whatcha up to?" He knew she was still at the Bistro. The "find my friends" app told him that much. He pictured her sitting at the crowded bar laughing with her girlfriends. She was probably still wearing her work clothes, maybe that smart black skirt that seems to hug her curves perfectly. Lately she's been pairing this with a fitted white blouse and silver pumps. She had a crisply elegant look in the day. After work, she often liked to undo one extra button at the top of her blouse. He could see her leaning into the conversation, her long silver necklaces resting gracefully across the top of her partially exposed breast, drawing attention down her generous cleavage. She knew exactly how subtle changes like that could rewrite the meaning of an outfit in an instant.
Darren felt a flush of arousal as he imagined this scene. His beautiful Melissa, crossed legs bared to her mid-thigh, her right shoe delicately suspended from her pedicured toes. She's sipping a cocktail, glancing occasionally across the bar, and idly touching the silver pendent at her breast.
He glanced back to his phone. No response. The Bistro is always loud on a Friday night. It's hard enough to hear the people sitting next to you, much less a text alert. "She'll see it," he thought as he turned back to the movie.
Tim sat up straight on the couch with the anticipation of an adolescent watching late-night Cinemax while his parents were out. It was almost time for the climactic one-liner he and his friends all shared as an inside joke.
"I. AM. AN. F. B. I. AGENT," Keanu emoted into the camera.
"Yes!" Tim cheered. "So good. So worth the wait."
Darren's phone buzzed twice in his pocket. "There she is," he said to himself.
"Hey, I'm just leaving the Bistro. Stayed way longer than I planned. I'm getting a Lyft. Probably shouldn't drive. I'll call ya when I get home. Love you!"
