If there was a perfect day, with an eggshell blue sky, a flower-scented breeze and little birds calling from the trees to celebrate, Julia Hastings would ruin it by dragging in a storm. Three days after meeting Julia, we received one of those Seattle rain spells that drizzled all day long, received reinforcements for the evening, then lightened up for three hours only to begin raining again. The blankets over the wigwam began to sag and smell moldy. The owners removed them. Who knows if anybody tried to salvage them or simply threw them in the garbage. The saplings were hacked up for firewood and tossed in the pit next door.

We began receiving less visitors. The ones who came over looked furtively at the doctor’s house before stepping into our yard. “She cuts points with ya if you don’t follow her instructions,” grumbled Billy Rosenfield. “She’ll hold back on things like pain medicine sleep aids until you behave. “She don’t want us drinking or eating sugar or doing anything that’s fun. What’s the good of living a long life if you can’t enjoy it? I say, fuck you, Dr. Rosenfield!” He pulled down his pants in back and stuck his butt in the direction of the doctor’s house.

I hastened him inside. “Aren’t you afraid of losing your pain medicine?”

“She don’t dare take it from me. I’m a vet! Besides, you’re a dealer now. You’ve got all the medicine I need.”

“It’s just a temporary situation. I’m a chef.”

“Damned straight. We gotta do something about that woman.”

He had taken a seat in the comfortable arm chair but batted his cane against the floor. “She tried to take me away from Zeke, the old hag. Like I would want her hatchet face breathing down my neck twenty-four seven.”

I looked at him dubiously. “Not that way,” he said, pounding his cane again. It was a good thing I had carpeting or he would have made a terrible racket. “She wanted to put me in an apartment at the Senior Center after that sweat lodge thing. She said Zeke wasn’t capable of being my caretaker and I wasn’t capable of caring for myself because of risky behavior. Where did I learn risky behavior, eh? Popping bullets at the Cong while trudging through stinking rice paddies. Then I come home and it’s all ‘rah, rah! Let’s drop acid and make love.’ Now they tell me I’m old and can’t be doing risky behavior anymore. I suppose when a seaman retires, he never goes back out on another boat.”

He didn’t want the coffee I offered but accepted a glass of iced tea. “Crack out that stash you’ve got hidden,” he coaxed.

I rolled up a joint. This was going to be a long visit, although I didn’t mind. Linda and Jack had taken another trip to Humboldt. Briana was in the driveway pretending to help Burke investigate the undercarriage of the Bronco, by passing him tools. She took an enormous amount of time selecting the tools he asked for, and when she found them, she kept her legs straight while she bent over; her butt pointed, her cleavage spilling from her halter; and stayed in that position until he called for the next tool.

“One thing I learned in life. When you’ve got a good attorney and a good psychiatrist, keep them. I’ve had the same attorney and the same psychiatrist going on twenty-five years. I don’t use them all the time. They’re like old friends I stop by to see sometimes and leave a donation at their doors. They pulled me out of this one. My psychiatrist said it would be detrimental to by over-all well-being to remove me from my home and that I had the mental competence to choose my own caretaker. Damned straight,” he repeated with satisfaction.

The more he smoked, the more he loosened up. “I know a secret about Julia Hastings, though I can’t prove it. I know why Henry Lange had a hold on her.” He waited until the joint passed back to him before he continued. “She likes cocaine.”

“My daddy was selling her cocaine?”

“Sort of a partnership. He was selling her the pure stuff, one hundred percent, and she cut it down for the customers. But she was getting hooked and she knew it, and she wanted out. Your daddy doesn’t let people out that easily.”

“You think she killed him because of his hold on her?”

“I think she was asked to leave because someone already suspected. And I think, now that the key witness is dead, those suspicions have been laid to rest. I think we need to bring them back up again.”

“How? I don’t know anything about cocaine.”

“Buck Knife does. Invite him over.”

“No, no. Look here. That’s where I draw the line. I’m not getting into that shit, Mr. Rosenfield.”

“You don’t have to! Nobody does. We won’t be dealing it.” And he told me his idea.

It was a rather bold idea, but once I met Buck Knife face to face, I felt it could work. He returned with Linda and Jack after I texted them the plan. It wasn’t the easiest text message to work out because half the words had to be coded. Once they figured it out though, Buck Knife was all for it.

Buck Knife was all muscle, but they were long and lean, and fit neatly into anything he wore. His clothing of preference was denim and tee shirts. He had a close cropped beard and long hair groomed back into a ponytail. He had Latin eyes, dark, flashing yet somehow dreamy and a slightly detached smile on a wide, darkly colored mouth.

The sky was still dripping liquid sunshine when they returned, but it finally began clearing by the next morning. Briana was so pleased to meet him that she offered him her room, but he was satisfied with a bed roll in the living room. Like Zeke, he traveled a lot and wasn’t very particular about his shelter.

He was an early riser. He sat out on the porch getting stoned until the rest of us rolled out of bed and joined him. I carried out a giant coffee pot and some mugs and set them on the table. Briana chirped, “Did you sleep well, sweetie?”

“After a little intervention.”

She giggled and I glanced over at her. I thought I had heard some huffing and puffing in the living room last night.

“I guess you couldn’t say it was a wasted trip no matter what happens, can you?”

“Just meeting you made the trip worthwhile,” he answered.

Oh, that was smooth. I was going to have to apply armor plating against this guy. He was definitely a love ‘em and leave ‘em, and I’ll bet once he left, they had a hard time getting him out their heads. Of course, I didn’t have to worry about that with Briana. She was the world’s best expert at shaking guys off and was always ready to leap in the saddle again. Not me. I was stuck because I wanted to fall in love.

We hadn’t said anything about our plan to Briana because she has a big mouth, but it was time to cue her in. “Buck Knife is here for a specific reason,” I explained to her. I whispered across the table. “We have reason to believe Dr. Hastings likes cocaine.”

Predictably, Briana jumped up and shouted, “She likes…”

“Sh! Sh!” We motioned her back down. “You’re gonna blow it. Buck Knife thinks he can get her to approach him.”

“Of course she can. Who wouldn’t?” Briana asked, squeezing his arm.

“For a score.”

“Ooh. Do you have?”

“Do you want?”

“Probably not. Maybe a little bit here and there, you know, but I don’t want to get addicted.” One thing we had learned growing up was never accept a recreational drug you had to either snort up your nose or shoot into your arm. We didn’t see just classmates fall by the wayside, but a whole other generation as well.

“I won’t give you enough to addict you. Hell, I can’t afford it either. I’m paying off a boat and have been thinking of buying an airplane. A few tiny grains and that’s it. Just enough to make her think we’re using.”

“What if she turns us in?”

Buck Knife raised his brows at me. “You’ll get a chance to observe her in about ten minutes. She’s in one of those clusters of duplexes up the street about four blocks. Whenever it isn’t raining, she jogs over to the doctor’s house and they run together.”

“Keeps him on a short leasH, does she?”

“She’s keeping everyone on a short leasH! Ralph is depressed and won’t take his medicine. Liz is talking about selling her house and moving in with her daughter. She tried to get Zeke kicked out of the community. The neighbors across the street never even come out of their house anymore. She’s really got to go.”

Jack Jones nodded his head. “She’s got a point there, jefe. Lee has a stick up his ass, no doubt about it, but he’s all bark and no bite. Everyone says he came to our parties to spy on us, but it was more to make sure we didn’t kill ourselves by doing something stupid. And I think he got sweet on the girls. Real sweet on them.”

“If you can’t be charmed by Southern hospitality, you don’t have red blood.”

“That’s what I tell my peppermint schnapps,” said Jack, squeezing Linda’s waist.

As I had promised, Julia showed up a few minutes later, her head down, her arms in front of her like a boxing stance as she pounded up the driveway to the doctor’s front door. She jogged in place while he kissed her, then took off like a sprite, Lee striving dutifully to keep up.

She always bolted ahead of him but lagged on the final laps leading home, trailing behind, and slowing to a walk as she passed my fence. I guess she never learned how to pace herself. It was one of the things I noticed about Lee. Every movement was measured and fit into compartments of time. He never really hurried, only moved as quickly as necessary, because every miscalculation made in haste is a wasted movement. She shot ahead. He kept a steady rhythm. When she tired, he passed by her like the rabbit and the tortoise.

Buck Knife watched her performance with interest. He stood up and walked around to the corner post of the porch to make sure she could see him while she waited for the doctor to come out. She glanced up and he fiddled in his breast pocket like he was fishing for something, then turned his back on her. She tossed her head and tilted her face to kiss the doctor as he came to the door. Before he had taken his first step, she was dashing out to the sidewalk. As she ran around the corner, she looked back - not at the doctor, but up at Buck Knife.

Buck Knife remained beside the post so I wandered over to join him. He sort of reminded me of a cowboy. He was wearing wool socks instead of sandals. Attached to his hip by his belt was a stiff leather holder for a large blade snap knife. He sat against the railing and lit a hand-rolled cigarette. He grinned. “Oh, she’s got the feel of it, alright.”

“Really?”

“Wound up, tight as a spring. She probably likes that little mental burst cocaine gives you. It could have been her edge for a while, you know. But you abuse it, you lose it. I think she decided to lose it but she wants it. She’s looking.”

It probably isn’t right to prey on somebody’s weaknesses, but if anyone deserved it, it was Julia Hastings. When she passed by our house, out of breath as always, she spent a long time looking up at the porch and at Buck Knife, who seemed to ignore her.

The good weather held out for several days. Buck Knife was so distracting to Julia, that life almost returned to normal. Neighbors began visiting once more, lining up on the steps for coffee and donuts. Ralph motorized himself around the block. The people across the street stoked up their fire pit.

Briana was just being herself, but herself added oil to Julia’s fire. She hooked herself onto Buck Knife, admiring everything about him and taking an enormous interest in all his pockets. Buck Knife liked Briana though, and not in the throw away sort of way. He understood her and I think in her blithe, unformulated way, she understood him. They kissed on the porch. They groped each other on the porch, and sometimes he would give her a little tweet that would make her whoop. Julia’s eyes began to gleam with hatred.

I knew drug dealers were discreet, but I never saw when Buck Knife connected with her. I only know that she began to be a little more spritely when she passed our house, and a little more impatient with the doctor. In fact, several times we heard them quarrel and one time I heard him ask, “Why did you come back, Julia, when you hate it here?”

I held my breath, waiting for the answer, but she just said, “It’s none of your business.”

To all appearances, Buck Knife was in no hurry to leave. He helped us rototill out our garden, although another rain spell hit before we could plant it. He went to open market at the Seattle port with us and bought a dozen silly touristy things. He took us all for a sky ride. He showed us a little country nightclub where the cowboys were all Washington boys raised on Washington milk and beef, taught to use a sledge hammer by age ten.

He grew on us, making me sort of wish he would stay, but one evening, while we relaxed in the living room, he told us he was leaving. “She wanted to buy a full ounce from me,” he said. “I only had a few grams. It’s gone.”

“Did you get a photo?”

“She’s not that careless, but she’ll be around. She thinks Zeke’s dealing.”

“Not me!” Said Zeke, looking around quickly. “Anyway, I know why she left San Diego. She was caught having an affair with the Assistant Director at the Primary Care Facility.”

“Oh, she’s nasty,” said Briana gaily.

“Well, don’t be surprised if she comes around looking for a high. She definitely has the habit.”

Now that we knew the truth about Julia, we needed a way to make her fall. As it turned out, she tripped up just the way Buck Knife said she would.

We seized the first clear day to plant our garden. The soil was still incredibly soggy, but it was fun to feel it slip between our fingers and toes. It was warm enough to rinse off with the hose every time we felt we had made a complete mess of ourselves, which was often and really didn’t help in drying out the back yard.

We had planted nearly all our seeds when we heard a knock at the gate. Since the gate was open, we looked at each other in surprise. “The force field is down,” I yelled out, not bothering to see who it was.

Our visitor drew close enough to cast a shadow. “You all look like you’re enjoying yourselves. Are you planting medicinal herb?”

“Carrots and potatoes. What do you want, Julia?”

She winced. She preferred to be called Dr. Hastings. “I thought since we’re practically neighbors, we could all be friends.”

“We’re not practically neighbors. You live four blocks down. Lee Andrews is our neighbor.”

“And I’m very neighborly with Lee Andrews. I didn’t come here to start a quarrel. I was just wandering, you know, if Buck Knife left you anything.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her eyes fastened on Zeke. “But you do, don’t you,” she said, walking over to him. Her fingers went up and down his shirt as though he had buttons she was trying to straighten.

“Sorry, lady, the only thing Buck Knife left me was a little advice about women who use men.” He pulled her hands away from him. “They’re dangerous.”

She slapped him! I was shocked. Women petted Zeke. They cuddled Zeke. They kissed Zeke. They were happy to be around him, but they never, ever slapped him.

Like a mama bear, I tore at her, my claws showing. I pushed her down in the mud then jumped on top of her, tearing at her goofy, animated cartoon hair, yanking her clothing up around her flat chest. Burke tried to get me off her and Briana attacked him.

Julia became so slippery, she was difficult to hold. With her first moment of freedom, she yanked Zeke’s ankle, sending him tumbling down with the rest of us. Linda and Jack tried to break us up, which wasn’t a good idea, either. I was determined to beat the living daylights out of Julia and Julia was determined to strangle Zeke. Over and over, we wrestled with each other, dragging in anyone who tried to get between us.

All the commotion finally caught the doctor’s attention. He rounded the fence to stand at the entrance to our backyard and gaped in amazement. He grabbed the garden hose and began hosing us down. “What the hell? Julia, what are you doing here? Why are you fighting with the neighbors?”

“The little junkies,” she hissed. “God knows what they’ve been doing. Shooting up in corners, snorting blow all day long. I caught them! It came to my attention and I caught them!”

“Why don’t you tell the truth?” Screamed Briana. “Tell the doctor what we already know. Tell him how much you were rubbing all over Buck Knife. Tell him why you left San Diego. Tell him, Dr. Hastings!”

Julia spat, but instead of attacking Briana, she made a beeline for Dr. Andrews and tried to wrestle the hose out of him. It didn’t take but a minute for him to slip as well. It became difficult to discern who was fighting who as the fray became a free for all. Somebody even dashed over with a plastic water slide and half a dozen people took turns rolling in the mud and slipping down the slide with the water hose hurrying them along from behind.

I began feeling sluggish. My clothing was saturated with mud, and I could barely lift an arm before I was dragged slipping and sliding back into the tussle. We were flopping like fish in a tide pool. Lee struggled to his knees, panting. Next to him, Julia and I were still rolling over the top of each other, my hands locked around her wrists, her legs beating against my hips. “Julia,” the doctor asked. “Why are you stooping to their level?”

Julia slipped out of my hold and gave a swing for the doctor’s head, missing him but causing him to slip again. Before Julia could swing one more punch, Linda grabbed her by the back of the neck. In the grip of a six foot Amazon, Julia knew she was defeated and just hung there limply. In her soft southern drawl, Linda said, “honey, we’ve never stooped down to the levels this woman has gone to.”

“She was making out with Buck Knife because he had cocaine,” blurted Briana.

He looked at Julia with surprise. “Is that true?”

“Fuck off,” she said, pulling her shirt together. When Linda set her free, she stalked out the gate and down the street.

Briana followed behind for a few seconds, slinging mud at her flat ass. “You’d better leave, skank! This community’s not taking any more of your shit.”

“You’re so good for it, loose legs?” She screamed back. “You’re druggies, users, and losers!”

“How did the wife feel when she found out about your affair with the assistant director?”

When women are mad and stalk off, they wriggle. It can’t be helped, but a woman who is straight as a board and wriggles looks a little strange. Her hips pushed her forward, jangled and confused by the swaying rhythm.

Dr. Andrews sat in the mud next to me. The excitement over, half the crowd wandered home, while the other half felt they needed a little more water play to wash the mud off. I laid on my back, panting. My clothing molded to my body and heaved up and down while I breathed. “I was so stupid, stupid, stupid!” Said the doctor.

I struggled to sit up and he gave me a hand. “I knew she had a drug problem,” he admitted. “I’ve known her since college days. We all used to snort a little now and then. That’s what college kids do, but Julia developed a habit. She tried to kick it. I thought she had kicked it. I didn’t see her for several years after I acquired my internship. She interned at a medical facility in Portland. I interned at the University of Washington.”

“You were in love with her?”

“I was, for a long time, or I think I was. She was Ivy League. My dad was a post master. My mother a kindergarten teacher. I made it through school primarily on scholarships and student loans. I couldn’t afford to let my scores drop. Julia didn’t really care. She was covered.

She wasn’t really a top–notch student. She’s not really a top-notch doctor, just an adequate one. But she was everything I had ever dreamed about, I thought.”

“Sometimes we see only what we want to see.”

“I knew she was getting coke from your dad. I blamed him.”

“Did you know about their partnership?”

“What partnership?”

Either he was the world’s best liar, or he really didn’t know. “It doesn’t matter.”

We helped each other to our feet. If we were disgraceful, we weren’t any worse off than any other. Those who were tired of frolicking were laying in the sun, the wet clothes plastered to their bodies so transparent, they may as well be naked. “Would you like to come over to my house to shower off?” Asked the doctor. “I think your bathroom is going to be busy for a while.”

“You know I’m pretty mad at you,” I said, walking stiffly beside him.

“You should be. I judged you unfairly. I’ve wanted to tell you… You’ve been good for the morale of the community. People are happier. They get out more. They eat better. You’re always so bubbly, I used to think it was because you didn’t know anything. Nobody could be happy if they’ve seen the dark side of life. It isn’t that at all. You know about the dark side. You just don’t turn out your light.”

“I’m still mad.”

“And I’m really, really sorry. I was starting to have feelings for you. You are so alive. You are a burst of cherries every day. When Julia came back, she brought back all those old memories. It was unfair. I was unfair. Please say you’ll forgive me.”

“Let me shower first, then I’ll think about it.”

Dr. Andrews’ house was a modern ranch style. It was one of a scattering that was slowly replacing the rambling, clapboard houses of the mid twentieth-century. It's leaner size meant a larger front yard, but this yard was dominated by a number of flowering shrubs that lined up against one side of the house and along the far fence. The driveway was paved, but the walkway and patio floor were laid with an inset stone pattern.

The house had a white spackled ceiling throughout, interspersed with squares of built-in lighting set on dim, except in the bathroom, which shone with the brilliance of an operating room. It was all white tile, stainless steel, and porcelain. A series of mirrors allowed me to see every inch, every crevice, every line and curve of my body without flattering shadows or limited viewing room. I felt a little embarrassed and shut the door immediately.

The shower stall was large, glassed in, and included a tub with Jacuzzi at the far end. The shower itself contained three spigots, all set with directional controls and volume settings. I started my shower, experimenting with the numerous dials. As I loosened the grime from my hair and watched it roll down my arms, I began to feel warm and normal again. I could forgive Lee Andrews, perhaps, after a few more showers at his house.

I heard a knock at the glass. I slid it open a few inches. “Here are some fresh towels and a robe,” said the doctor, keeping his head down. I began to relent. The caked mud in his hair and clothing was beginning to dry. It looked like cracks in his once invisible armor.

“You’re very appealing when you’re humble,” I said. “You should try it more often.”

He started to turn away. “You can come in, Lee, if you want. I’m finished.”

He undressed and passed by me, the closeness of his body next to mine sending my hormones into a fever pitch. “I’ll wash your hair,” I said. He didn’t object.

I shampooed his hair gently, the way Linda had taught, diluting it and easing it into his scalp. My hands strayed down to his slightly scratchy face, soaping it and shaving away the stubble. I spread the suds across his arms and shoulders, then traveled downward and over his magnificent chest. His olive skin was already turning to tan and glistened under the water stream. A wide mat of curling hair began at his chest, then narrowed and became softer and finer as it trickled below his belly button.

“Don’t,” he said, stopping me before I had finished washing him. “You’re always giving to others. Not this time. I want to give something to you.”

We finished rinsing off and he helped me out of the shower like a gentleman leading a lady through the door and wrapped a towel around me. He tucked another towel around his waist and showed me the way to the bedroom.

It was a guy room, just as his house was a guy house. Dark, heavy drapes hung straight down from their drawn back position on either side of slanted Venetian curtains. A king size bed was covered by taut blankets folded in at the corners, military style. His dresser was made from a thick hardwood and contained only a small assortment of grooming items, along with two family pictures.

He guided me gently to the bed. I sat down. The mattress was firm but comfortable. He began drying me off. The thick rub of the terry cloth was soothing. All I wanted to do was lay back and relax. I did, and he rolled me over so I was on my stomach.

I could smell the massage oil as he opened it and poured some into his hands. It had a faint, jasmine scent. He spread it across my shoulders, kneading it into the muscles, then down my back, following the spine and applying just the right amount of pressure on each side. I felt tensions loosen up I didn’t even know I had.

I’ve never known many guys who could give good massages. About the time they had finished rubbing my back a little, they were busy rubbing other things. The doctor was in no hurry at all. When his fingers reached the end of the spine, he concentrated on first one hip, then the other, massaging the flesh all the way down to the ankles, then bending the leg at the knee to massage the foot. I didn’t know a full body massage could be so heavenly.

When he finished massaging the foot on the right, he began with the left, squeezing and rubbing the flesh as his fingers crawled back up my thigh. His hand passed along the tight opening between my legs and circled around my buttocks, kneading both cheeks and pushing them up until his thumbs had pried open my legs a little. I felt his tongue slide down the crack, dart around the anus and pursue a path deep into the slippery walls of my pussy. Pleasure pings shot all over!

“Mmmmmm feels good!”

He turned me over. I lay on my back, panting, waiting for him to enter, but he wasn’t finished yet. His oiled hands spread over my arms, slipped underneath them, then reappeared to encircle my breasts. He took the nipples in his thumb and forefinger, rolling them gently, while they swelled and grew tender. He sucked at each one while his hands continued moving downward, sliding over my belly, then stopping at the triangle of velvet between my thighs.

His palms pressed against the inside of my thighs, opening them so my clit was fully exposed.

“Oh God! Yes!” I sighed, looking down in weakness as our eyes met in heat.

His tongue lapped at my breasts, pulling and tugging, while his thumbs explored the patch around the pulsing orifice, nudging the tiny bud that stood straight up like a soldier. How he teased me!

“God…nobody does it like you…” I felt my back arch as he teased me viciously, making me wait—making my skin beg for his intimate touch.

It seemed to take forever for his tongue to find its way to the opening, but when it did, I muffled a sharp, involuntary sigh.

“Uhhhhh yes ohh God lick my clit!”

The pleasure wouldn’t stop pounding. It seemed to explode straight from my gut. I opened my legs wide, and he stood up. Unwrapping the towel, he slid a condom onto his beautiful eight inches, then homed in on where the hunger inside me was greatest.

“Motherfucker!” I grunted in uncontrolled, almost embarrassing passion. I lost all sense and just began spasming. He was fucking me harder than ever before, without mercy and my thirsty, selfish pussy just craved more.

I couldn’t stop coming! This time when I orgasmed, I didn’t even want to wait for a breather. I just kept singing, demanding, more fucking in between my legs. I gripped his cock with my interior pussy walls and squeezed, warning him to keep the rhythm going.

God, all I wanted to do was cum and make him break inside of me. I crashed up against him over and over, pulling him down with me to catch my breath, then heaving upward again.

I loved the feeling of rubbing my titties, my hard nipples all over his mouth. I wanted his saliva, his sweat, his whole body to permeate mine.

And he thrust, rock hard, without letup. He stayed hard for me, giving me all that I could bear, pounding my pussy like he owned it. Like my body was his to fuck and fuck and fuck!

“Ohh don’t stop!” I screamed again, slapping his shoulder and gripping him with my other hand. I tried to touch him all over his body—his thick muscles, his abs, his arm, his ass…even his strong neck muscles. We were fucking like animals and it felt so good, so much like a true bonding. Something beyond sex and almost uncomfortably close!

He fucked me and pounded me and fury-fucked me again, all until in one final, desperate moment, I felt the shaft bury deep inside to the point of no return. I could tell the way he was vibrating and gritting his teeth, he was going to cum in me. He couldn’t stop even if he tried. I felt his passion leaving him, I literally felt his balls empty and his whole body convulse as he was ready to let go.

His pubic hairs tangled with mine, and I felt the deep pulse of his strong, steamy and multiple-spurting ejaculation.

“Ohhhh Lee!” I said, throttling his cock and getting every last drop of semen inside of my hugging pussy lips. “Holy fuck, ohhh my God!”

I hugged him close and shook off the rest of my orgasm, letting our bodies melt into each other. Letting him feel how glorious it was to let the cum drip deeper and deeper and then gradually spill out. He fucking came in me and made me his fucking bitch. How crazy…how out of this world. Jesus, I said to myself, I will never get over him. Never forget this moment, so close inside, so compact in his arms. I want to stay like this…

“Mmmm…” I sighed, rolling over his shrinking cock one last time.

We both sighed, and he rolled over, next to me.

“Do you think you could learn to love a very stupid man?”

I shrugged. “I’ve done it before.”

“I’m not as sexy as Buck Knife or as young and cute as Zeke.”

“That’s for me to decide.”

“Hmm.” He laced his fingers through mine and examined them in the fading afternoon light. My pale skin contrasted with his tanned knuckles. “Southern girls are often of Irish or English descent.”

“Or both,” I agreed. “We’re freaking Vikings no matter how you look at it.”

“I’m part Italian,” he said. “And a little of everything else, I suppose. My mother loves to cook. My sister is an architect. My brother is in the forestry service and thinks I’m a wimp. ”

“I was raised on a farm with my mother and grandmother,” I said. “With a whole lot of relatives surrounding me. In fact, I believe I’m related in one way or another, to everyone in the town.”

“I think I would like to see that.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Most of the young people are pretty cool, but there are still a lot of rednecks. A lot of cowboys. You agree with them or you get out of their way. We wanted to get away from that. I guess that’s why we like this community. It’s pretty open.”

“A lot of aging hippies. What did you expect?”

“Tsk. I told you many times, I didn’t know what to expect. Why do you keep thinking I planned anything?”

“Because women do that.”

“You’re the expert now?” I rolled toward him and he took me in his arms and made love to me again. Really made love. We pressed close, thigh to thigh, knee to knee, ankles rubbing together, arms wrapped tightly around each other, drinking in the taste of each other’s sweat, inhaling the personal scent of each other’s bodies. We seemed to float on air. We seemed to be suspended in one long moment before collapsing once more on our backs.

The doctor used the terry cloth towels to dry us off, gazing at me as the towels swabbed at all the necessary places. He put on a pair of sweats and sat beside me. “I’m hungry.”

“There are enchiladas at the house, and guacamole.”

“Really? You don’t think they’re gone by now?”

“I made a lot and I hid one of the pans.”

“Enchiladas, huh? I want some.”

The doctor was dressed, but my clothing was still a disgrace. I wadded around the bathrobe and sneaked toward my house like a thief, Lee following close behind. We made it halfway up the stairs to my bedroom, when Briana caught us on her way down the stairs. “Hey, Jenna,” she greeted, then stopped. She looked at me in nothing more than a bathroom and the doctor trying to sneak back down the stairs and around the corner in a pretense he was headed toward the kitchen, and grinned. “Did you get lucky? You got lucky!” She said loudly. “How was it?” She stage whispered in my ear.

“More than you can handle.”

“Ha! I doubt it!” She clattered down the stairs and took the doctor by the arm. “Now, I know you think I should feel jealous, but I’m not. I’m just so glad you got that terrible woman out of your life. Now that you’re free, just take a look around at all your choices. There’s no need in jumping straight from the kettle into the pot. Keep your options open, that’s what I say.”

“Kettle to the fire.”

“What?”

“You jump from the kettle into the fire.”

“Oh, no. That doesn’t make sense. Why would you do that? I’m sure it’s a kettle and a pot.”

I closed the door to my bedroom still listening to the banter between Briana and Lee. It felt good to think of him as Lee now instead of in formal terms. I changed quickly into some fuzzy, pajama style pants and an over-sized tee shirt. I felt casual and a little sloppy, but as though I was entitled to behaving this way.

I clamored back down the stairs to rescue the doctor from Briana’s grip. I really didn’t have to worry too much. He was listening in amusement as Briana explained the principles of body language. “You can tell a lot about what a person is thinking by his gestations,” she said.

“His gestations?”

“Yeah, and when he gestates a lot, he’s either French or he’s trying to cover up. Of course, if you’re French, you’re always trying to cover something up. That’s why they gestate.”

“Briana,” I said, “Lee hasn’t had dinner, and neither have I. I’ve invited him for something to eat.”

“Oh, I’m hungry, too. What do you have?”

“I saved a pan of enchiladas, but I put out plenty earlier. Are they all gone?”

“Talk to Burke about that. He took most of them.”

“I’m going to quit putting him on the list of affordable mechanics.”

“You can’t do that. He’s very affordable.”

I sighed. By the time my enchiladas had been heated, Linda and Jack had reappeared, along with Melanie, Liz, and Billy Rosenfield. There was no choice except to empty the refrigerator of all its left-overs and share the meal as well as the doctor’s attentions.