*
The Portland MAX station was damn near empty at this late hour. Christine Brandewaite waited impatiently for the eastbound train that would take her to Gresham. She really wanted a cigarette but she’d run out at work and wasn’t supposed to smoke on the job anyway, though she did sometimes, locking herself in her office at Nachatz Trucking, which was sometimes sniggered at as No Chance Trucking, and well, their reputation for delivery kinda proved that right. It was Sunday night, but she worked weekends mostly, and no one paid too much attention to her.
Christine shivered, but it wasn’t a shiver of cold. It was anticipation. She probably shouldn’t smoke now anyway, before she saw Robert. OMG the man did things to her that were scarcely legal!
She laughed silently to herself. She’d spent way too many hours searching dating web sites with no success. Losers. Fucking losers, every one. But then Robert had asked to be her friend on Facebook, and she’d thought who the hell is this guy? but she’d seen his picture . . . okay, it wasn’t strictly his, but that was part of the joke, wasn’t it? And anyway, he’d turned out even better, so no harm, no foul. And well, she was closing in on forty, and that fucking bastard Gerald had told her she looked like a gristly, dried-up sixty-year-old . . . Heaven Sent Matchmaking, my ass . . . so it had been so nice to have someone like Robert appear.
The light-rail car rattled into the station and Christine climbed on. Hardly a soul on board. She’d had to damn near stay till eleven to get all the work done. Work she’d put off because she just couldn’t keep her mind on it. Woo-wee! She’d had her share of partners, but Robert had simply screwed her brains out, making her forget them all.
There was a heavyset woman a few seats up, sweating in a cotton twinset even though the temperature was cool. She turned and looked soberly at Christine. Christine almost stuck her tongue out at her, she felt that sassy. She managed to contain herself but not the shit-eating grin she couldn’t control. She thought about Robert’s tongue, and his probing fingers, and the way he’d slammed into her that had gotten her screaming so loudly that he’d covered her mouth with his hand and held it until she could scarcely breathe. She’d been gasping when he finally released her, and then they were both laughing.
“Shhh,” he said, licking her earlobe a few moments later. He’d been ready to go again and Christine had been right with him.
She was still sore and that had been days ago. She’d been thinking of him constantly. E-mailing him because, well, the sad part was he was married and he couldn’t receive phone calls or texts. He was getting a divorce, though, and yes, she knew they all said that, but Robert was sincere. And such a damn good lay!
She looked out the window. The lights of the city flashed by, interspersed with lengths of darkness. She lived way out of town. She was lucky Robert was willing to come all the way to see her. Sometimes she wondered what he saw in her, but then she practically slapped herself. She was still an attractive woman, with a lot to offer a man. She wasn’t beautiful by magazine standards, sure, but really, how many people were? And she had a thin body, not an ounce of fat on her, and maybe that allowed for a few more wrinkles, but gristle? That was just rude. And untrue.
The heavyset woman got off three stops before Christine and then she was alone. By the time the train deposited her on the platform she was in a fever of need and then had a moment of terror when she saw the man in the dark hoodie standing beside her car until he said, “Psst,” and she realized it was Robert.
“What’re you doing here?” she asked, relieved and delighted.
“Thought I’d meet you. I came on an earlier train. We can go in your car.”
“Pull that thing back so I can see you,” she said, reaching up to yank the cowl from his face.
He caught her hand and kissed it. “C’mon, get in. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Christine happily climbed behind the wheel and Robert got in the passenger side. She wanted to touch him and couldn’t help running her hand across his broad shoulders.
“Where’re we going?” she asked.
“Marine Drive.”
“What for?”
Marine Drive ran alongside the Columbia River, and at this time of night, given where they were, nothing would be open and there would be only long stretches of unlit road.
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
“Should I—”
“Shhh,” he said, and then he put his hand between her legs and started massaging her in a way that made her go all wet and limp.
“I can’t drive!” she panted.
His soft laughter drove her mad. “Yes, you can. Be careful. Don’t want to go off the road too soon.”
“Too soon?”