leather Nike, was now torn along the edges and had deep black streaks on it. “After my foot fell through a rotten board on the porch, I pulled it out. By the way, do you live there?” he asked. Answering “yes” was clearly not the correct answer as his brow furrowed and he scowled the most adorable scowl I’d ever seen. It was like watching a kitten frown.
“No,” I said ferociously. “ No. No, no, no, no, no, ” I added, shaking my head. What the hell was I doing? Of course I lived there.
“I live here ,” I said, turning, my hand smacking against the side of the shed, a little piece of rotten board falling off and clattering to the ground, failing to help me in my lie. We looked at each other, equally embarrassed. Except, we were both embarrassed for me .
“Oh, so…umm, a person in there, I wasn’t sure who the person was, but the person…” If he said the person one more time I would have no choice but to smack him. It was obvious he couldn’t tell whether Mama was a man or a woman. She got that a lot. Probably, it was the low smoker’s voice combined with her weight. That and the fact that she hadn’t done anything with herself since Daddy had died. Eighteen years is a long time for a woman to go without anything special.
No, not that . Get your mind out of the gutter. I mean no makeup, no nice clothes, nothing. She just ate and watched her stories on TV, and went on the Internet and entered sweepstakes contests and lotteries. If that seemed about as pathetic as it sounded, that’s because it was. On the other hand, we had more swag than you could ever imagine. Corporate logos on t-shirts and water bottles and little stuffed animals from all sorts of products – you need something like that, stop by the trailer and grab whatever you want, as long as Mama’s not looking. No one needs three hundred pop can cozies, right? Except Mama. All of it her winnings , as she called it, cluttering up the trailer but it gave her something to look forward to whenever the mail came.
“That’s my Mama,” I said quietly. His eyes widened. I would have read him the Communist Manifesto in the original German if I thought that there was a snowball’s chance in hell that I could just stare at him. The planes of his cheekbones were entrancing, the way the skin folded around his eyes, dark and sophisticated, an exquisiteness to the waves of his bluish-black hair. He had the bone structure of a model and the whole package of a man who was beauty personified.
Composing himself, the gears turning in that gorgeous head, he finally replied with: “OK, yeah, her. Well, so, Trevor’s supposed to be there.”
“No, he’s here with me.”
“This is your house? You’re Darla?” he asked.
I pulled the door shut quickly and then realized that my breasts were hanging right around my bellybutton. Dammit! I actually did need my bra. And shoes would help too. “Just a minute,” I said, my finger in his face buying me a second as I scurried back into my little home.
Fumbling to pull off my shirt, I looked down at Trevor. Should I wake him up? Tell him Joe’s here? This was going to be the end, and any second now he’d be gone. This couldn’t be the way that it ended. And yet, it had to end, didn’t it?
I felt kind of stupid, now extra stupid, for telling him what had happened with Mama and Daddy’s accident. There was really only one person I could talk to about that and she was out in Boston right now. Why was I thinking about Aunt Josie when I had the most incredible man I’d ever found by the side of the road – OK, the only man I’d ever found by the side of the road, but he was still pretty fucking incredible – in my bed, covered in my scent, my juices, our minglings still floating through the air. And then another guy, standing outside my little house, waiting for something.
Whatever it was, I needed to figure out how to give it because pretty soon people were going to start to really nose their way
“No,” I said ferociously. “ No. No, no, no, no, no, ” I added, shaking my head. What the hell was I doing? Of course I lived there.
“I live here ,” I said, turning, my hand smacking against the side of the shed, a little piece of rotten board falling off and clattering to the ground, failing to help me in my lie. We looked at each other, equally embarrassed. Except, we were both embarrassed for me .
“Oh, so…umm, a person in there, I wasn’t sure who the person was, but the person…” If he said the person one more time I would have no choice but to smack him. It was obvious he couldn’t tell whether Mama was a man or a woman. She got that a lot. Probably, it was the low smoker’s voice combined with her weight. That and the fact that she hadn’t done anything with herself since Daddy had died. Eighteen years is a long time for a woman to go without anything special.
No, not that . Get your mind out of the gutter. I mean no makeup, no nice clothes, nothing. She just ate and watched her stories on TV, and went on the Internet and entered sweepstakes contests and lotteries. If that seemed about as pathetic as it sounded, that’s because it was. On the other hand, we had more swag than you could ever imagine. Corporate logos on t-shirts and water bottles and little stuffed animals from all sorts of products – you need something like that, stop by the trailer and grab whatever you want, as long as Mama’s not looking. No one needs three hundred pop can cozies, right? Except Mama. All of it her winnings , as she called it, cluttering up the trailer but it gave her something to look forward to whenever the mail came.
“That’s my Mama,” I said quietly. His eyes widened. I would have read him the Communist Manifesto in the original German if I thought that there was a snowball’s chance in hell that I could just stare at him. The planes of his cheekbones were entrancing, the way the skin folded around his eyes, dark and sophisticated, an exquisiteness to the waves of his bluish-black hair. He had the bone structure of a model and the whole package of a man who was beauty personified.
Composing himself, the gears turning in that gorgeous head, he finally replied with: “OK, yeah, her. Well, so, Trevor’s supposed to be there.”
“No, he’s here with me.”
“This is your house? You’re Darla?” he asked.
I pulled the door shut quickly and then realized that my breasts were hanging right around my bellybutton. Dammit! I actually did need my bra. And shoes would help too. “Just a minute,” I said, my finger in his face buying me a second as I scurried back into my little home.
Fumbling to pull off my shirt, I looked down at Trevor. Should I wake him up? Tell him Joe’s here? This was going to be the end, and any second now he’d be gone. This couldn’t be the way that it ended. And yet, it had to end, didn’t it?
I felt kind of stupid, now extra stupid, for telling him what had happened with Mama and Daddy’s accident. There was really only one person I could talk to about that and she was out in Boston right now. Why was I thinking about Aunt Josie when I had the most incredible man I’d ever found by the side of the road – OK, the only man I’d ever found by the side of the road, but he was still pretty fucking incredible – in my bed, covered in my scent, my juices, our minglings still floating through the air. And then another guy, standing outside my little house, waiting for something.
Whatever it was, I needed to figure out how to give it because pretty soon people were going to start to really nose their way
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