He did this by putting a warm hand on the small of my back, the heat of it melting into my flesh, traveling up my spine and down over my bottom.
“Christ, Iz, this is the best guac I’ve ever had,” he stated.
I was glad.
I was also glad for the reminder of who we were with his touch at my back.
I hadn’t thought about it, but he hadn’t given me a kiss when we met on my steps. He hadn’t touched me or even came close to me. He also hadn’t gotten close in my kitchen. Even as small as it was, he stood removed at the island. Indeed, there were no touches, pecks on the cheek, brushes of lips on my neck.
There was no intimate or even familiar affection at all.
We were going to have food now. Sex later.
He might not even spend the night.
That was where we were. Who we were. What was happening here.
And Johnny getting the horses in and teasing me in my kitchen didn’t change any of that.
I sat back to eat my chip and lost his hand as he immediately leaned forward again and got more.
After I swallowed, I said, “Glad you like it.”
“Need this recipe,” he told me.
“Sorry. I’m only giving it to my daughters, but only after they vow to give it to no one but their daughters.”
Johnny turned his head to the side and gave me a look from sparkling eyes.
Then he went back to the guac.
I leaned forward and grabbed my wine.
When he finally nabbed his beer and sat back, I shifted into the corner, crooking a leg to the seat, which meant my knee was pressed to his thigh, something he didn’t react to at all, but that was where we were.
And now it was time to get some things out of the way.
“Can I talk to you about something that might be awkward?”
Dempsey was sitting by him, leaning against his side of the seat, and Johnny’s attention went from scratching Dempsey’s head to me.
He looked guarded but said, “Sure.”
I held my wineglass in front of me and carried forth the decision I’d made after talking to Deanna that day.
“I moved here not long ago. I did because I have some friends who live here and love it. They’ve been here about five years. They’re a couple, Deanna and Charlie. Deanna’s actually my best friend. She’s the one who came out to look after my animals.”
“Okay,” he said when I stopped talking.
“Well, I told her I was with you and she told me you own Gamble Garages.”
He seemed to relax and leaned forward to grab another chip and load it with dip, saying, “I do.”
“She said there are a lot of them,” I told him.
He popped the chip in his mouth, chewed it, and sat back to look at me.
He swallowed and replied, “Depends on what you consider a lot. We got eight shops. Circle K has over three thousand.”
His response wasn’t defensive, just informative.
It was still odd.
“No, what I mean is, that’s impressive.”
“Granddad had a wife and three kids to feed, a boy and two girls,” Johnny shared. “Then, it was just the garage, the one here, in Matlock. He saw the writing on the wall and knew he’d never make it, have something to give to his son, if he didn’t grow. You sell more gas, you can buy it cheaper. You change enough filters, you buy in bulk, you get better prices on supplies. You diversify, adding Big Grabs of chips and fridges filled with pop, you got additional sources of revenue. He opened shops two and three. Dad took it up to seven and I added the eighth.”
I nodded.
“But I’m a mechanic,” he announced. “I got a GM who deals with all that shit because I can’t be bothered with it. It bores me sick. I look over his reports. I meet with him once a week so I can okay his decisions. And I’m the only one who can sign checks because I’m not a moron. The rest of the time, I repair transmissions and replace brakes.”
“I . . . are you upset?” I asked, because I couldn’t tell with the utter emotionless and matter of fact way he was imparting this information if he was or wasn’t.
“I’m not upset. I’m wondering why you’d think talking about my garages is awkward.”
“That’s not the awkward part,” I shared carefully.
“Then how ’bout we get to that part,” he prompted.
I decided it best to do it quickly and get it over with.
“My friend also told me about Shandra,” I said quietly.
I also watched him closely.
But nothing changed in the utter emotionlessness of his face, except perhaps the skin around his mouth tightened a bit, but I couldn’t really tell considering it was covered in beard.
“Matlock, pretty much anyone in it who was around when I was with Shandra, decided what that was when not a one of them, but Shandra, knew dick. So don’t listen to that shit.”
“I just wanted to say that if she’s the reason that—”
“I lost my dad three years to the day before I met you, Eliza. That’s where I was at yesterday. Don’t listen to that shit.”
“Okay,” I said hesitantly. “But can I just say that . . . well, I thought you should know. You should know that someone told me. You should know I know. I didn’t want to . . . I mean, you don’t live in a bubble and you know I don’t either, so I can imagine you’d guess I’d talk to my girlfriends about meeting you. But I also think it’s uncool to talk about you, learn things about you, know things about you that you haven’t shared without letting you know I know.”
He said nothing to that.
So I finished, “So that’s it. That’s the awkward.” I flipped out a hand in a way that was just as uncomfortable as I felt and concluded, “That’s done.”
“I loved her,” he stated.
It was me who said nothing to that.
“Thought I’d make babies with her and spend the rest of my life with her. That didn’t happen. We’ve been over for a while. She’s nowhere near Matlock and she’s not coming back. Did that fuck with my head? Yes. A man decides to spend the rest of his life with a woman, make a family with her and it ends, that’s gonna happen. But it happened. She happened. And now it’s done.”
“I’m sorry that happened,” I said gently.
“You weren’t a virgin before I had you so I reckon I’m not the only one sitting here with history like that.”
“I’ve never been in love,” I shared quietly.
“Avoid it,” he advised resolutely. “It sucks.”
And again . . .
There we were.
“I hate you feel that way,” I told him, still quiet. “My dad was a hard act to follow. Not the same way I’m guessing, but still, he was. Mom never recovered. She tried though, a lot, and she did it hard. So even though I’ve never felt anything like that, I get it in little ways, what you’re saying, watching her search for something that wasn’t to be had. Because sometimes I wished she’d avoid it so she could find another way to be happy.”
“You’ve changed,” he declared.
I felt my head give a slight twitch in surprise to his comment.
But I suspected he said it in order to change the subject.
“Yes, I ran up when you were in the stables and got out of my work stuff,” I confirmed.