Big Man's Contract

“I remember coming out here and you had on that neon green bikini, remember that thing?” he asks.

I laugh. “I loved that thing. I think I still have it somewhere at my mom’s house.”

“It was so bright that it almost glowed. You’d lay out on the rocks over there.” He points over to the cluster of rocks on the hill beside the creek where there’s a small waterfall that kids used to use like a water slide. It’s barely a trickle now. “All the boys use to stare and watch you sun bathe, like you were some glowing green goddess on her alter.”

“Remember when you saved me from the rattle snake?” I know he remembers because of the little smile the comes to his lips. “The snake was sunbathing on the rocks and I hadn’t seen it. I heard the rattle first. It was coiled up on that same rock and when my friends heard it, they screamed, which only agitated the snake more. I thought for sure I was a goner because the nearest hospital is fifty miles away. I waited for it to strike, but you came out of nowhere and killed it with a rock.”

“That’s one of those moments you don’t forget,” he said, chuckling.

“No kidding.”

He pulls me closer and bends his head. I close my eyes as his lips brush against mine. He smells like tar, soap, aftershave, man. I sniff him in, feeling euphoric and wild from the scent of him, and yet calm and safe at the same time. His strength is a sense of comfort. When he brings me even closer to him, deepening the kiss, I wrap my legs around his waist, clinging to him. His hard-on rubs me in just the right place. Only a pair of thin boxers and panties keeps me from what I want.

Before things have a chance to go too far, he says, “No freebies,” and pulls away. He swims to shore and promptly gets dressed. I follow him. As he pulls his shirt over his head, he says, “My place, now.”

My heart thunders as we walk back to the bar. I get in my car and he gets in his truck and I watch him leave. I know exactly where he lives. It’s next to my old house.

I take a deep breath. This is a bad idea. I don’t have to do this. If I go with him, to his house, I know my heart will forever be changed. I won’t stand a chance after this. I can turn around and go back to the motel—hell, I can drive away, back to California and stop getting pulled back into the past where there are secrets and mistakes, some of which I never knew about that seem to still be playing out.

I could do that. I could just go. But I don’t. I start my car and I follow him.

9

Madden

I bought the family home after my parents sold their business to Abe. We built a set of apartments on the back of the property where my parents live. It’s easier to maintain than the three-thousand square-feet of house. They’re getting older. My mom’s struggle to keep up with the cleaning and my dad’s struggle to make it up and down the stairs was becoming too much. They didn’t want to get rid of the home, so me taking it over was the best solution. And I guess part of me wanted to stay near Lina’s childhood home too. I have good memories of running amok in the neighborhood. That one bad moment in high school couldn’t ultimately undo all the good there was.

Lina’s home is still for sale next door. Her mom put it on the market after her dad died but no one has bought it.

Lina pulls into my driveway shortly after I arrive home. I realize that she’s never been inside before. When I was just a scrawny kid, I never had the courage to invite her over. Abe had a few girlfriends, so it’s not like it’s the first time a girl has been under our roof. But this is clearly different. This is me and Lina. This is the past mixing with the present.

I have to remind myself that we already had sex at the bar so her being here shouldn’t be making me this nervous. I keep telling myself, but I know this is different somehow. I know in my heart this encounter between us is meaningful. A next step.

I answer the door when Lina arrives. She looks around at all the family pictures still on the wall. Not much has changed about the house except the fact that there’s not as much stuff since we moved it over to the apartment. For the most part, it’s empty. There’s just too much house to fill and it all still reminds me of my childhood home no matter what new things I bring in, so I don’t bother.