He had flown into town for business. He was late getting in. His rental car had been given away. He summoned a car and the driver groaned about taking him all the way to Berkeley. At least there wasn't traffic that late at night.
She was visiting her son at school. He was a sophomore. They had gotten a nice dinner and then he had sent her back to the hotel. First, her husband and left and now her son didn't need her. She wasn't necessarily down on herself or her life but she was alone, more alone than she had ever been in her life.
The restaurant was closing soon. He didn't take the time to go to the room. He went straight to the bar. He ordered fish tacos and a draft beer. She was sitting across from him. He looked because he always looked. She had stringy blond hair that hung down in front of her face a little. Her lips were bright pink. A thick sweater hugged a heavy chest. Yes, he decided. He would do her. Not that he was going to try. He was feeling old and tired. His divorce was still in the rearview mirror and appeared further away than it really was.
She caught him looking at her and coyly looked away. She smiled though. She didn't feel like she had been looked at like that lately. She wondered if he was married. She wondered how this worked. She knew it happened. Businessmen picked up women in hotel bars before closing.
He watched an old man sit down next to her to make a move. The old man was just like him. He wore a striped shirt and a blue sport coat. He looked older but he might not have been.
It was the wrong guy. She wasn't interested. She wasn't disinterested but the man across the bar was taller. She liked tall. He was bigger. She considered herself "bigger," and didn't see herself with the skinny older man. She thanked him for the offer of a drink but told him she was tired.
His tacos were delivered. They were messy. He did his best but sauce went everywhere until the shells broke down and then the whole plate turned into a pile of tortilla casserole. It tasted good though. He ate it with a fork. He looked up and saw that she was smiling at him. She mouthed a word to him. He didn't have a clue what it was. He liked the smile though. She was, and this is what did it, cute. He looked at the chair beside him and then back to her. He did it a couple of times until she stood up and moved beside him.
They talked about the University. He said he was hoping his son chose it over the others on his list. He liked coming here a lot more than Chicago or Houston. She said sadly he probably didn't need to come visit as much as he thought. He asked if her husband was with her. She said no. She said they had only made it two months in the empty house together before he left. He ran through the timeline of his own divorce, it was not so different. They hadn't made it until the boy left though. They had tried but the tension between the two of them as they tried to pretend was too much. He looked down at his hand and played with the indentation his ring had worn into his finger.
The conversation had turned. Neither of them spoke specifically about divorce, he wasn't sure he had even mentioned he was divorced. A quiet blanketed them and he found himself disappointed it hadn't worked out. He had gotten himself worked up, curious about her large breasts.
"God, I wish I had a cigarette," she said.
"Would you like one?"
They stepped outside the hotel. It was cold. He handed her a cigarette and held out the lighter. He lit one for himself.
"It's cold," she said. She moved in close to him.
They discussed quitting. He said he hardly ever smoked anymore. The pack had been in his briefcase or he might not have smoked all week. She said she never bought them but if someone had one she was going to mooch one.
He wrapped his free arm around her. He held her close. "You feel good," he said. It had been a while.
She looked up at him and he looked down at her and he kissed her. It wasn't perfect. He was taller than she was used to, he was holding her a little awkwardly and they each had an arm extended out with a smoldering cigarette in it.
"Should we have another drink?" she asked, hoping he was going to say no and invite her back to his room. She would prefer going to her own room but he had to be the one to make the invitation.
"We could get a bottle, take it back to my room. I look out on the city."
"Can we go back to mine instead?" she asked.
It took longer to get a bottle of wine and pay their tab then he expected. She tried to get her own but he had already asked for both and his credit card was delivered with two receipts. She exhaled deeply as they stepped away from the bar.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yes. I think so anyway," she said. She felt like she was lying. She didn't feel okay at all. She felt a little drunk, a little sick to her stomach, and nervous. In the elevator she moved to him, she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and pulled his mouth to hers. His hands were full with the bottle in one and two glasses laced into the fingers of the other. She took advantage of his condition and kissed him the way she liked to kiss. Delicately she teased his lips. She darted her tongue along his lower lip. Their tongues met tip to tip. She liked it.
He thought it was delicious. He wanted more. The elevator opened on her floor, closed, and went back down again and they laughed as they rode it back up.
She sat at the foot of the bed as he poured the wine. She took only a sip before standing. She began to remove his coat and he kissed her again. It took her breath away the way he teased her back the same way she had teased him.
The wine glasses were both set aside and they went to work undressing each other. Old married people don't do that. They each get undressed on their own taking turns in the bathroom before going to bed wondering if they get to, or have to, do something before they go to sleep.
