Fallout (Crank 3)

though. Car. What about her car?

It’s Thanksgiving. Everything

will be closed. No batteries,

and even if there were, I have

to be at the station. Really soon.

I could pick her up after work,

but I know she’s anxious to get

busy on the duckurken thing.

“Get dressed. You can drop me

off, then take my car. Just don’t

forget to pick me up later, okay?”

I swear, relationships are labor-

intensive. All about compromise.

Yada. Yada. But when Nikki

comes into the bathroom, all

mussed from sleep and our

early morning rendezvous,

she looks at me in the mirror,

and her eyes hold so much love

that every ounce of resentment

melts away like butter on a hot

griddle. I relinquish the sink,

go into the bedroom, slip into

the jeans lying on the floor.

They’re a little wrinkled, but

clean enough and worn to

the point of real comfort.

A whole lot like the bond

between Nikki and me.

FOR A REFRESHING CHANGE