He came in from doing yard work. Shirtless and in cut-offs in the 90 degree heat. His chest and back covered with sweat. He peeled off his damp shorts, kicked off his Nikes, and turned on the shower. Very hot. He was always fond of hot showers, but especially since…that time.
The steam rolled out of the shower like wisps of fog. Like it did that one night. As he stepped into the stinging spray, he thought he saw some movement out of the corner of his eye. But he lived alone since the divorce. And if his ex had stopped by with mail, the dogs would have raised a ruckus. He pulled aside the translucent curtain…no one.
As he soaped himself down, he again thought there was someone there, in his peripheral vision. But when he turned his head, he saw no one. It almost looked like… But no, she was a thousand miles away, and married to another man.
* * * * *
Sean had traveled there on business. Trying to head off some litigation involving one of his clients. It was a remote part of Georgia, where they harvest pulpwood, and his client’s log hauling truck had been in a very serious accident.
Jim’s parents and his were close friends, back home. Sean had always thought Jim was kind of a jerk, growing up. But when mom found out he was going to be traveling to that remote part of the world, she told Jim’s mother and it was determined “the boys” would have to get together, at least for dinner.
When Irish-American mothers make plans for their sons, the sons have two options. Give in right away, or resist, and give in after weeks of sighs, silences, and oblique references to the subject. Having experienced it before, he surrendered early and made the necessary phone call. Jim sounded about as thrilled as he did, but obviously was under the same pressure. And as it turned out, Jim worked for a local pulp mill so this could sneak through the expense account as “marketing”.
They met at a local supper club in that town at the appointed hour and time. They had not seen each other since high school. Jim had not aged well. Thinning hair, gut hanging over the belt, nose looking like a road map of blown veins. By the time Sean got there, it was obvious that Jim was at least one or two drinks up on him.
They shook hands, and Jim introduced his wife, Laura. While Jim looked every day of his 45 years, and then some, Laura appeared at least ten years his junior. Long dark hair, sparkling green eyes in a delicate featured face, and wearing a halter-top dress that subtly showed her petite curves to their best advantage. By her soft southern accent it was apparent Jim had married a local girl. The daughter of the mill’s owner, as it turned out.
Dinner turned out to be mostly a two-sided conversation, with Jim’s contribution consisting of desultory remarks interrupted by frequent requests for additional drinks. Sean and Laura chatted amiably, he telling “war stories” from his work as a litigation manager, she telling amusing anecdotes about the local people that were in the dining room and the adjoining bar. It was a small “company town” where everyone knew everyone else’s business. And her daddy owned the company, so she knew more than most.
Jim’s silences grew longer and longer. Soon it was apparent he was dead drunk and asleep sitting up in his chair. No one besides Sean appeared to even notice. Apparently it was not polite to do so, and was a frequent enough occurrence that everyone expected it. The waitress quietly wrapped up the remains of Jim’s dinner while Sean and Laura continued their conversation over coffee and after-dinner drinks.
In a very tight and controlled voice she explained that Jim had never quite come to grips with being the boss’s son-in-law. He never felt he was his own man. So he compensated with liquor. And women, when there hadn’t been too much liquor.
She felt it was her fault. If she had agreed to live elsewhere, it would have been different. But this was her home, and he had loved her too much to make her unhappy by taking her away. So like everyone else, she just looked the other way when this happened.
Sean asked how she would get him home. Jim was obviously too intoxicated to walk, let alone drive, and Laura was far too small to get him into the car. She explained that she would leave him here, and that a couple of the company security people would come by later and bring him home. She was sure the restaurant owner had already called them.
And where was Sean staying? He shrugged, and explained he wanted to be back in Atlanta early tomorrow, so he planned to just drive in that direction until he saw a likely spot to stay. She told him that was not a good idea. The closest decent hotel was hours away, the local place was a dump, and he had been drinking. The local deputies just loved seeing a rental car on these back roads that they could stop for amusement.
Both her boys were off at college. He would stay in one of their rooms and that was final. Recognizing that tone, Sean gave in. Besides, he had seen far too many hotel rooms in his life. A nice quiet home to sleep in would be a pleasant change. And in return, he could help Laura get Jim home.
Taking an arm over his shoulder, and with Laura propping up the other side, they managed, laughing and giggling, to get Jim poured into the back seat of her car. After closing the door, they paused, standing close together in the dimly lit parking lot. Close enough that in the still, humid air, they could feel the heat radiating from each other. He looked down at her, hazily seeing her features in the faint starlight. Her eyes shone up at him. He could smell her lilac perfume. His hand moved halfway towards hers, his head bent slightly downwards.
And they were suddenly caught in the glare of a spotlight from a nearby car. Sean’s heart froze.
“Is everything OK, Miss Laura?” called a male voice with a deep drawl.
Laura turned and smiled, without missing a beat. “Yes, Bobby. This is an old friend of Jim’s. He was just helping me get Jim in the car. You boys won’t be needed tonight. Thank you for coming out. Good night.”
“Good night then Miss Laura. Y’all drive safe now, hear.”
Sean and Laura turned towards each other again, now a respectable distance apart.
“Jayzus” Sean said. “I thought I was going to die, for a second, there.”