I heard some commotion down by the corner, so I thought I’d go check it out. I’m really glad I did.

There was this girl.

“Good evening, ma’am. Are you new around here?”

“Kind of. First time at this dump, anyway.”

“You have a name?”

“Of course I do. We all do. My friends call me Willie. Wilhelmina Aurora Jackson.”

“Well, Willie Jackson, what brings you out on a nice evening like this?”

“Target practice.” She pulled her gun, aimed quickly and immediately fired twice. I watched two rats disappear into a pinkish mist.

“Jeez, girl, what are you shooting there?”

“Beretta Inox. It’s an FS forty cal with safety rounds. Frangies. That way I don’t kill everyone on the plane. You’d be surprised what can fit through a newly opened airplane window at forty thousand feet. What are you doing out here?”

“Target practice.” I fired a couple times and killed a couple, but they just got knocked back a few feet with holes in them.

“Cool. What are you using?”

“Kimber, Ultra CDP Two with cheap Winchester Silvertip hollow points. Hundred and eighty-five grain. Nothing special like yours, that’s for sure.”

“You have a name?”

“Sure I do. Everybody does.” She giggled at me teasing her. “Chuck Crenshaw. Charles. You can call me Charlie. Just Charlie, for now.”

“Come out here often?”

“Only when I’m pissed.”

“Wow. Coincidence.”

“What pissed you off?” I asked her.

“A cheater. You?”

“A very beautiful trespasser.”

“Oh. OH! Shit. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think...”

“Stop. I’m just teasing. We’re two for two. Two cheaters and two pissed off people with guns. Poor rats. I feel sorry for them today. Hungry?”

“I will be in about twenty minutes.”

“Me, too. Steak?” I asked, looking forward to the possibility of spending dinner with a pretty girl.

“Sounds good!”

Over the next twenty minutes, each of us went through at least a hundred rounds. She switched to Winchester practice hollow points, too. She explained that she emptied her duty rounds, the fun way, each time she went out practicing, just to make sure her pistol would still eat them. It was common practice. A misfeed in an aircraft full of people when you only get one chance to make perfect shots was problematic, as she called it. I could relate. As a retired Air Force Special Operator, most recently assigned to the Marine Mountain Raiders as a Forward Air Controller, I really could relate. Your ‘only’ shot comes ‘only’ once. The rest are just makeups, excuses, wannabes, and reasons for failure.

When we were done and had our weapons reloaded and back in the holsters, she looked at me with a small smile and asked the magic question. “I really am trespassing, aren’t I?”

“Yes. I hate people coming out here and dumping stuff. I try to make it in time to find out who they are and report it, but it’s just far enough so that they can dump a couch, or a couple bags of picnic garbage and hit the highway before I get here.”

“From where?”

“The top of that ridge.” I pointed.

“That’s quite a ways. Ever thought of using cameras?”

“I might do that one of these days. I guess a few bucks on Chinese technology wouldn’t kill me. The signs and the fence certainly don’t stop them.”

“I’m sorry, Charlie, I didn’t see any signs.”

“No problem. I think the last couch guy ran over at least one of them backing in. It’s hard to tell where the other one went. Maybe someone felt they needed it more than I did. You’re welcome to come out and practice if you want. You weren’t dumping. You were killing him in effigy, the cheating asshole. It’s different than dumping.”

“What makes you think he was an asshole?”

“All cheaters are assholes. That’s just my opinion, but still, I have a right to one.”

“Very true, but I mis-worded that question. The cheater was an assholette, and therefore not a male of the species.”

“Oh. In that case, are we still on for dinner?”

“Of course. I still owe you for the range time. Do I need to clean up the brass?”

“Nah. I never do. In case it matters, the asshole that cheated on me was a woman, too. Just sayin’.”

“Cool. Glad to hear that, actually. I’m buying. Take me to your favorite meat place.”

She was surprised it was the Roadhouse. It’s my favorite for right now. She said to take her there, to my favorite, so I did. She claimed to be happy with the choice, too.

We talked for two hours and she asked me out again. She wasn’t a lesbian, she said. At least she thought not. She just pretty much liked a certain type of people, and I was that type. Friendly, not hard to look at, most probably not on welfare, that kind of thing. She said she was pretty sure if she was a dyke, or even a full-blown lipstick lesbian, she wouldn’t have asked me out on a second date.

I assured her I wasn’t on welfare, thanked her for thinking I didn’t need the peanut bag over my face, and told her I liked being friendly because it helped me meet a better class of people. I explained to her that if I’d gone down to the corner of my property shooting a twelve gauge in the air and yelling obscenities, I wouldn’t have met the beautiful blonde girl killing all my pet rats. I told her she was, however, lucky I hadn’t named them all yet. Friendly is good. She had the most precious laugh. Soft, yet full, and heartening. How could anyone cheat on this lady? She was a doll.

It was Thursday, she would be back home on Monday and asked if I liked Italian. After my affirmative reply, she asked if I wanted to pick her up, or if she was in charge of the date and she needed to pick me up. I was tempted to let her run with it but decided not to. If I was dating a woman, I needed to do that silly alpha male thing and man up. You know, drive, pay the bill, help her in and out of the truck, that sort of thing.

“No, Willie, if you don’t mind me knowing your address, I’d just as soon pick you up. What Italian place are you thinking? Olive Garden?”

“No. That’s not real Italian. My assholette introduced me to a little place called Annie’s, and they have the best lasagna.”

“Sounds good. My asshole is Annie, believe it or not, and I love the food there, but don’t think I’ll announce myself. If we go on Monday evening, though, she won’t be there, won’t poison my food, won’t embarrass me, and won’t ruin my night. That will be especially nice if I’m there with you. By the way, Willie, is your assholette’s name Linda?” She frowned. Even frowning, she was cute.

That started a relationship made in heaven. She came back after about nine long flights, tired, but still wanting to go out. We ate at Annie’s. Maria served us and smiled at me, holding her finger to her lips so that no one else knew I was there. Maria was sixty if she was a day and thought I was the best thing that ever happened to her boss. She was surprised when she found out that Annie had a different dating arrangement and I was out the door. She was REALLY surprised to find out Annie’s new boyfriend was a girl. A girl named Linda. Linda, of course, was Willie’s assholette.

That was the last time we ate at Annie’s. I gave Maria a hundred-and-ten-dollar tip, and since I knew they pooled them, I gave her a ten for the pool, then I put the hundred in her apron pocket and did my own finger to the lips thing. Willie laughed. Then, surprising Maria and me both, Willie asked her for the name of the best local Italian place, since this obviously wasn’t it anymore.

“I work in the morning for my cousin, Phillipe’. You go there. As good as this, but better sausage. Antonia makes the better lasagna here, but Phillipe’s wife Rosita, she does a good one, too. I help her in the morning before I come here. Tips are better here, so I work here in the evening. Phillipe’s on Second Avenue. Charlie knows. Try it. You’ll like it.” She laughed out loud, getting just about everyone’s attention. She hugged me then looked at Willie and back at me, in question. I nodded. She hugged Willie and told her, “Charlie is a good boy. Annie is too full of Annie. She may learn someday. You two kids have fun together and forget the past.”

As we walked out, Willie commented, “Pretty presumptuous, wasn’t she?”

“Maybe, but you did ask me out again. Maria is a really nice lady. She’s been helping at both places. I know about her cousin’s place. It’s good. I would have picked that one, especially after last month, but it’s not a problem.”

“Why didn’t you say so, or at least suggest it? We could have gone somewhere else.”

“I was hoping Maria would be there. I like her and have been wanting to do that for weeks. Annie only puts in a few hours on Monday, but early, during the day. We’re fine. It went well and exactly as planned.”

“You’re a nut and a glutton for punishment. OK, let’s see, I asked you out for a second date? I thought this was it. If not, seafood?”

“Cooked?”

“Always.”

“Joe’s or Red Lobster?”

“Crab Shack. I haven’t been there in a while. If you’re sure you don’t mind, I’d love it. It’s not exactly highbrow, but if you remember me having fun with your pet rats, I’m not exactly highbrow.”

“I don’t know about that. You look awfully good in that little dress and those heels. Awfully good. Best looking Air Marshal I’ve ever met.”

“How many have there been?”

“One, that I know of, so you’re way ahead. I had fun tonight, Willie. Thank you. I’m looking forward to the next time. May I ask when that might be?”

She looked at her watch and pushed on the side of it a couple of times. “Let’s say Saturday? Sixish? I get in Friday afternoon, early evening. I’ll be beat, most probably.”

We traded cell phone numbers and email addresses. It was getting serious, folks.

“Call me if you want to hit Denny’s for coffee and a snack on the way home from work. I won’t be busy. I’d love to see you again if I could. If not, I’ll just pout and look forward to Saturday, sixish.” She giggled. Cute sounding, too.

I took her home, and at her apartment door, kissed her gently, thanked her again, and when she was inside, I left.

I really liked this girl. She was fun, genuine, nice, friendly, treated other people well ... Then I thought... ‘What the hell was I doing with Annie when there were girls like this in the world?’

Friday, late, around eleven, I got a text.

‘which dennys’.

‘welcome back – yours – mason st’.

There was one not a mile from her house.

‘thx cu in a bit black one sugar’.

‘yes’m’.

I hightailed it over there and ordered two coffees. I put a teaspoon of sugar in each and stirred them.

She walked in five minutes later looking like something the cat dragged in. I stood to greet her and she hugged me. Then, I wasn’t expecting it, but she took ahold of my ears, pulled me down and kissed me.

“You started it with that goodnight kiss the other night after our date. I liked it. I wanted another one. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, and please, anytime. I liked it, too. Rough day?”

“Rough beginning and a rough ending today. Yes, it was a rough trip, inclusive. A long one that started with a passenger not wanting to sit between two fat ... Heavier individuals. They made a terrible ruckus. It was ugly, the plane was late, etcetera. Luckily, I had a few eventless flights after that. Then, I was supposed to be in six hours ago, so yes. That’s why I wanted to go out tomorrow night. Usually I get home close to some semblance of a schedule, but every once in a while, a passenger threatens a stew with a lawsuit if she won’t let him get completely inebriated, versus only slightly. We had to make an unscheduled landing in Cleveland. He’ll get home someday. Maybe. Poor guy. His wife left him while he was on a business trip. I’m not a shrink, but at least I was able to talk him down and he didn’t directly threaten or hurt anyone. See the white stuff on my shoulder?” I nodded. “Salt. Dried tears. Yes, Charlie, he cried on my shoulder. Charlie, are we dating?”

“I hope so, Willie. We’re in Denny’s at midnight on a Friday. This isn’t something I’d do with my mechanic or my doctor’s receptionist.”

“Good. I told Linda to fuck off today and that I was dating a nice gentleman from around here that knew of her new girlfriend.”

“Oh, my God, really?”

“Yep. She and Annie are evidently not simpatico out of bed. I heard about a minute and forty-five seconds too much about that and told her I’d moved on, wished her luck, and hung up. Was that OK?”

“I M H O, it was perfect. Tomorrow night, Willie, after we go out, I want to ask you out.”

“Feel free. We’re dating! You even said so.” She giggled, reached over the table, pulled me to her by my ear and kissed me. “Thanks for the coffee. You’re a peach. I need to be in bed by three, though. I have a cute date with a nice guy tonight.” She looked at her watch. “Yeah, tonight. I have two hours. Whatcha wanna talk about?”

I could tell she was super tired. The ‘cute date’ reference kind of enforced that. Fatigue was setting in, and she’d be punch drunk pretty soon, so I talked her into finishing our coffee and eased her out to her car and followed her home.

“Willie, you are a breath of fresh air. Kiss me again, go in that house, and pass out on your bed. You need some sleep.”

“You’re right. You’re a peach.” She opened the door, kissed me and said, “I love you. Good night,” and she shut the door in my face. Click went the deadbolt. Poor thing. She was beat.

Oh. Shit. She. Said. I love you. Oh. Shit.

It was ten o’clock in the morning. My phone dinged.

‘morning’

‘morning 2u2’

‘am I in trouble’

‘no’

‘good’

‘u need 2 talk?’

‘could you?’

‘be right there’

I went over, and when she opened her door, I saw the most precious creature I had ever witnessed. She was in a T-shirt that went down halfway between her butt and her knees. This was not a tall girl. It had a crown up by her neck and ‘PRINCESS’ written across it. Her slippers looked like huge light purple cotton balls with her legs sticking out of them. She had nice legs. The short sundress the other night showed me that. The sleep shirt covered everything but allowed nipples, and her hip bones, to be a little prominent. This girl was gorgeous, but I knew that.

“Charlie, I need help.”

“With what?”

“Evidently, I fall in love very easily, and I need a bit of guidance.” I started to say something, but she held her hand up. “Hear me out. I was a bit tired last night, but like sodium pentathol, sleep deprivation is a truth serum. Alcohol does that, too. You don’t say things that aren’t true, so much as you say things you don’t yet want to say and know you probably shouldn’t say. Things like ‘you’re a peach’ and ‘I love you’.” She smiled at me. “Did you catch those, or miss ‘em, maybe?”

“I caught them. Actually, both of them. The peach thing doesn’t bother me too much. My aunt used to say that a lot. Am I scared about the other one? A little. Am I running? No. Wilhelmina Aurora, you didn’t say anything wrong, it just caught me off guard. I like you, too. Very much. It may be love, but I need to give it some time. My asshole just stole your assholette out from underneath you, or vice versa. Doesn’t really matter. I’d like to spend time with you, as much time as possible, to make sure that what I’m feeling is just that. Love. I asked myself the other night, with girls like you in the world, what the hell was I doing with her? I want you to say what you want. I want you to feel how you want. I want you to want me to be here and to take you out and to spend time together. When I say, ‘I love you’, you’ll know I do. If you really do love me, don’t stop saying it. Don’t stop doing it. Please. Just bear with me for a bit.”

“Deal. Sold American. Toast? Coffee? Tea? No, we aren’t going there with the ‘or me’ thing. I’m not even awake yet. I just needed to talk. To you. Not just talk. I needed to talk to you. Just you. Not anyone else.”

“Willie, go lay down in your bed. Now. Please. Do it. I’m going to show you something.” She looked at me like I was about to start beating her with my belt, or a stick, or something. “Please. I promise to be a good boy.” She went. I covered her up, except for her shoulders. She was laying mostly on her front, with her shoulders, under the shirt, of course, available to me. I rubbed her shoulders and the back of her neck, gently, talking softly to her about nothing in particular until she fell back to sleep.

I made myself some coffee and buttered toast, and while eating, looked around. She was a bit unorganized, but she had promise. I watched TV for a while, read some magazines she had about guns and such, then at four in the afternoon, I sat next to her on the bed and rubbed her shoulders again.

“Hiya, handsome.”

“Hello, sleeping beauty. Are you OK?”

“Yeah. It got to me. Fatigue. It happened a few months ago, too. Seems to come in cycles. Every time I find a friend. You’re going to be my friend, aren’t you, Charlie?”

“God, I hope not. I don’t date my friends.”

She smiled, turned and looked up at me. “Thank you. I really want to apologize, but I can’t find the words. I really do think you have what I need. What I want. I think you may be the love I’ve been looking for. I know I shouldn’t feel that way yet, but I do. Please don’t say you understand. You don’t. You said you feel similar and it may be love, but ... I’m there. End of conversation. I need to shower and change, then we can take you home for you to change and we’ll be fine. Sound good?”

I nodded and leaned down and kissed her. “Are you sure, Willie. Really sure?”

She nodded. “I feel something I’ve never felt before, and I’ve been in love, Charlie. This is bigger.”

“OK. Let’s go. Let’s get this train rolling.”

I sat in the living room, and when she came out, I was floored. This was not a sundress. We were going to be the most overdressed couple in the Crab Shack, no contest, unless maybe they were hosting a wedding party. She looked fantastic. Purple silk sheath dress, perfectly matching purple leather high heeled sandals, sheer off-black stockings, her hair up and falling sideways framing her face, and just immeasurably gorgeous.

“Shit.”

“That bad, huh?”

I started laughing. “Horse crap. You know how stunningly gorgeous you are! Stop it! Damn, Willie, you’re a pretty girl. I’m a lucky guy that you’d give me the time of day, let alone date me. Damn!”

“I’m glad you think so. I haven’t had much luck with guys in the past.”

“Where do you hang out, woman? Biker bars?”

“Point made. Let’s go. Movie and crab cakes. On you this time. Again. I don’t want to carry a purse.”

“Let me guess, you have your driver’s license, though, and your TSA Homeland Security badge, and ... Your gun, right?” Her grin captured the moment, if not the evening. I leaned down and kissed her. “You’re a beautiful woman, Wilhelmina. Thank you for gracing me with your presence.”

“Sweet talker. Feed me crab cakes or lose me forever! Meg Ryan. Top Gun. Only different.” She pulled my ear down and kissed me. “Thank you, Charlie. That was sweet. Thank you for taking care of me last night and today, too. I needed that. I really did. I was trashed. Way too many hours actually working on that last run. We’ll talk, but please understand, I appreciate you and what you’ve done.”

I hugged her tightly and kissed her again. Picking her up off the floor in the hug, probably did us more good than harm. Her moan indicated as much, anyway.

We did the movie first, sharing a small soda and a box of junior mints. Dinner was coming and we both knew it.

Then, walking into the Crab Shack, I was the proudest peacock in the joint. Double-takes a’plenty. Everyone was checking out my date. Why does a guy get off on that? Who knows? Human nature at a minimum, but she was the object of gazes and discussions for about five minutes, I’m sure. She lit up the room and she didn’t even know it.