Chapter 6

Now I'm afraid to be alone with Lee.

It was already bad. Losing the use of Sherry's talents left me to my own devices. Oh, yeah, I could've fallen back to old ways. I know a few women who, if I expressed a renewed interest, would happily make room in bed for me. Trouble was, they were just about exactly like the bimbos Sherry laughed about.

I'd have to lie just a little bit, too, because none of them were able to admit that they were in it just for the sex. No, there had to be the vestiges of a commitment somewhere there, and like Sherry's bimbos, none of them were, in my estimation, marriage material, not when marriage included 'till death us do part' or another raid on my recovering retirement account. As they say, 'been there, done that, and can't afford a freakin T-shirt'.

And right there up front, I'm supposed to be Lee's friend, even before that 'boyfriend' thing and she doesn't deserve to be abandoned because I have commitment issues. Actually, I don't have commitment issues. It took me three tries, but I learned that marriage wasn't fifty-fifty. Fifty from each partner would get you shit. Fifty from one and a hundred from another wears out eventually.

So Thursday I walk in. Was out overnight Tuesday night and Wednesday night and Lee and I weren't at the nightly phone call level. I was still operating under 'friend' rules. I walk in, okay, and there's Lee turned sideways in my recliner in that flexible way that young girls have, and she tosses me a gimlet eye.

"It's SAD!"

"What's sad?" I ask, taken aback.

"In Time Enough for Love, it's soooo sad. He falls in love with Dora. They get married. They're in LOVE. He calls 'er 'Dorable'. And she ages and he doesn't, and she dies..."

"So you're enjoying the book?"

"If, by 'enjoying', you mean crying my eyes out ... yes."

"Well, good! It's a good thing for young people to read books without pictures in them."

"Well, it doesn't have pictures, but it does have The Notebooks of Lazarus Long, which, in too many cases, sounds like YOU."

"Is that a good thing?" I asked.

"I'm still not sure. I bet you're a bit of an arrogant asshole at work."

How'd she know that?

"I'm superlative at what I do and I have little tolerance for idiots and posers."

Giggle. "Asshole."

"If I'm an asshole, then why do you hang around with me."

"I aspire to your skill level. Proximity works for me."

"You're getting there, young Padawan," I laughed. "I'll be back. Let me go put this crap away."

"Go forth and be neat."

"Yes, ma'am."

Giggle. "See! You're doing it again!"

I returned to the living room. "Out or in?"

"Huh?"

"Out or in. Wanna go out and get something to eat, or get a pizza delivered?"

"I eat too much pizza. That's why my face looks like one."

"You had that ONE major zit two weeks ago. It's gone. You're doing good."

She smiled. Yes, I pay attention, and yes, she KNOWS I pay attention. I guess it's a delicate little dance. As long as she's smiling when I show up, I'm good with it. And she doesn't HAVE to show up at all, so I'm sure that she's engaging in her own version of the dance.

Sherry still shows up. She knows exactly what ISN'T going on, and I think of her as a catalyst, causing things to move around in patterns they might not take under ordinary circumstances. She joins us for dinner from time to time, and she's come over to my house for a parlor or a card game or two with me and Lee.

Me and Lee. Funny.

Sherry cornered me one time when Lee wasn't around. "I could get out of the way."

"You're not IN the way."

"You could have private time, just the two of you."

"Do you even KNOW who you're talking to, lady?"

Smirk. Teasing, she popped, "Perhaps the greatest tongue on the North American continent. But SHE doesn't know that."

"I have not as much as kissed her."

"That's what she tells me. She's afraid to do anything. Says if she frightens you off, she's lost a friend she can't replace." Sherry smiled a bit. "Maybe you ought to kiss her."

"Or not. Between the two of you, I finally have a situation where I don't have to come home in the evenings and be alone or sell myself for companionship of a sort I don't wish."

"I understand. I think that the three of us hold on to that. But at this point, one of the three wants something a bit more intense."

"How intense? You said she's a virgin."

"Worse than a virgin, and you know it. She's been on the outside, bullied, picked on, all the crap that can tumble down on a schoolkid who's a little different. Her refuge is her grades. And now it's you and me. And she's really into you."

So that's where I am. Saturday mornings have pretty much standardized too. My 'range day' expanded slightly to include a brown-haired girl, who like anybody with half a brain and decent muscular control, turned out to shoot well enough to make her and me happy and to amuse some of the range denizens, and in a few cases, embarrass a couple.

We had an agreement for this Saturday but Mother Nature had other plans. I woke up to drizzly grey skies, dozed for a delicious half an hour, then got up to fix breakfast of cereal and coffee and was reading the paper when the knock came.

I opened the door. There was Lee.

"Hi. Come in."

She did. "I guess it's a no range day, huh?"

"Yeah ... That's why I'm still eating breakfast."

"Do you have coffee left?"

"Yeah. Pour yourself a cup and sit with me."

That 'sit with me' put a smile on her lips. "Sowhat were you gonna do today?"

"I dunno. Hope you came over. Make a pot of soup. Bake a loaf of bread."

"Hope I came over? Are you sure I don't already spend too much time over here already?"

"According to who?" I asked. "Did your grandmother say something?"

"No, actually we had a conversation about what happens when I graduate. I'm eighteen, and I guess that means I'm supposed to be out on my own."

"Scary," I said.

"It is, when you stop to think that, yeah, I could probably get a job at minimum wage and if I can get on food stamps and a couple of other programs, I could be out of her house. But there goes college..."

"You could get grants for college," I said, "and you'd be in a lot better shape than a lot of kids. First, you actually BELONG in college with that mind of yours. Second, you're not juggling a baby or two..."

"Still scary. By myself."

"I know what you mean. It's doable, though. Or maybe when you get into college, you get a new set of friends and you might find another who wants to share the rents and things."

She was watching me. It occurred that this might just be one of those pivotal moments. Okay, Lane, let's jump out there and totally fuck up a friendship.

"Or you could move in here. I've got that spare bedroom. We're certainly compatible."

"Me. Live with you. Spare bedroom." Her face fell. I could almost hear the hiss as she deflated.

"Well, I just offered ... It's not like I'd rent it out to anybody else. I KNOW you."

"Spare bedroom..."

I don't know why I was playing this game and I don't know why I even harbored the thought that 'girlfriend' equated to anything connected to the master bedroom.

"The other room's, well you know, my hobby room. And I stay in the big one. You'd have your own bathroom..."

"So I basically get to enjoy the stigma of cohabitation without the benefits."

"Cohabitation with me is without benefit. I got three ex-wives who will attest to that fact."

"You see me differently. I see you differently."

I paused a second. "What makes you say that?"

She smiled just a tiny bit. "I notice things. I'm not stupid. The way you talk with me, not at me. The way you look at me just a little bit longer than you have to. The way you seem to make space in your life for me." She smiled, tilted her head. "No male's ever done that for me before. Uh, and no. No female, either." She smiled a little more. "You LIKE me. And not in some random 'I'm being nice to this teenaged girl' way. You LIKE me."

"You're being awfully brave," I said.

"Yes I am. And I hope I'm not being some starry-eyed little princess. So. Is it true?"

"Yes. I like you. Past the 'be kind to random teens' thing."

"If that's true, then I think you should kiss me."

"What?!?"

"Don't play coy, Lane. I should be kissed. At least once."

"I'm afraid of that, Lee."

"Why? I practice flawless oral hygiene." Smirk. She was winning this battle and she knew it.

"Because I'm afraid we won't stop with a kiss."

"Yes we will. Or I'll scream bloody murder and kick and claw and..."

I kissed her. Closed lips, but definitely longer than a friendly brush. When I pulled back, she was smiling and there were stars in her eyes.

"Maybe a few of those kisses."

"Don't get carried away," I said. "I'm trying to be a man of honor."

Okay, the little darlin' snorted. Actually snorted at me. "Really? I didn't just kiss the guy who was doin' my married cousin?"

"You know what I mean."

"What do you mean?"

"You're an innocent, tender young girl. Sherry was..."

"Broken in?"

"That's a horrible turn of phrase," I said. I also noticed I was being pushed back to the sofa. I fell back with Lee sliding down beside me. The next kiss was her fault.

"A person could like something like this," she said.

"I find it quite popular," I quipped.

Hers next. Soft lips. Opened. Tongue brushed mine. I opened my own lips to meet her tongue.

"Is that the way that's supposed to work?"

"I believe it is."

She sat back. "Wow! That's sort of an 'all over' thing, huh?"

"Yes. So slow down."

"Did you and Sherry kiss a lot?"

"That's not a question you should ask."

"I'll ask her. She's sort of my big sister now."

"She likes kissing. I like kissing. We kissed."

"See! Wasn't that difficult to answer!"

I didn't add the part where she was kneading my package through my khakis, giving me permission to fondle her titties. I felt really guilty about thinking of fondling Lee's titties. I already harbored the uncomfortable feeling that I was taking advantage of her.

We kissed again. We. As in 'mutual'. She found a way to fit in my arms that seemed just perfect, not pushing us toward more intense sexuality. This was plenty intense.

I finally got to mess with her hair. Sassy, fragrant, made for me to bury my face in. Reduced her to giggles and sighs.

"Oh, god, Lane..."

"I've been dying to do that, Lee."

She sighed. "I've been yearning for you to do ANYTHING to me, Lane..." and she twisted around and pinned me to the sofa.

Several kisses later, she backed up a little. "I ... Lane, I'm afraid to lose control."

"I have a limit set, sweetness," I said.

Little darlin' knows how to kill a moment. "Uh, yeah, you 'n' Sherry. What's MY limit? Cannibalism?"

"I cannot believe that we're sharing this tender moment and you're thinking up horrible things like that to say."

"Didn't have to think much. I know how you are." She pushed close for a kiss. "I know how you are and I'm good with it." Her smiled morphed into a smirk. I knew something was coming, but wasn't sure what it was.

"It's ten in the morning. You need to get your butt off the sofa and fix us a meal."

"Huh?"

Her giggle trilled. "Git yer ass up 'n fix me a gaddam sammitch!"

"NO!" I said, rolling her backward for another kiss. I left her there, breathless.

"Now we'll see about a meal." Her hand idle tugged a strand of her hair. "Dammit, Lane! You got me losing my train of thought."