by Toni Draper
Unnerved by the intensifying stirring within and the embarrassingly evident visible signs of a body reawakening from a long and lonely slumber, Mena abruptly broke her gaze, shuddered, and looked away. But her distress did not go unnoticed.
A smiling Isa reached out and placed a soft and supple hand along the left side of Mena’s face in an intimate gesture Mena was neither expecting nor ready for. Mena instinctively jerked away from the solicitous and enticing touch. “We’re going out tonight. I know Joe told you. Why don’t you come along?”
Mena’s cheek still seared from the heat of the woman’s palm, and her heart rate had undeniably increased. She was feeling desire deep down, whether she wanted to admit it or not. The two women simply stared at one another in silence for what seemed like an interminably long time, each caught up in her own feelings, a dance that would soon become impossible to deny or resist if they kept running into one another like this.
Fearing the potential aftermath of a relaxing few drinks in the company of such an engaging mujer, Mena hesitated only briefly before turning the temptation down. “Not tonight. Maybe some other time.”
Clearly disappointed, yet staunchly undaunted, Isa’s frown soon turned upside down as she pulled Mena toward her in one last unexpected, intoxicating, and burning embrace before winking and sprinting off happily.
Mena shook her head in a semi-stunned state of disbelief, whether at what had just happened or more at what she’d felt in spite of herself. With a growing smile on her face, she jumped in her Jeep, turned the key in the ignition, and popped the clutch.
Chapter 8
The crunch of loose gravel and slight squeal of underinflated tires announced Mena’s return home. Chesa, a spaniel stray she’d adopted from a rescue only months before and named for the Chesapeake, a body of Maryland water she’d quickly come to love, stood looking out the bay window of the rented brick rancher, her tail wagging in anticipation and welcome.
As she unloaded her gear, Mena again looked up. No longer the large celestial body she’d admired along the way home, the moon was now smaller, whiter, brighter, and higher up. Although not quite full, it still commanded its place in a beautiful night sky splattered generously with stars.
She dropped everything just inside the door, and with a “Hey, girl,” bent to pat the dog’s head. In return, Chesa danced, licked, sneezed, and grunted her love. Just then, a black-and-white streak of feline lightning raced into the room. Emi, her other baby, a twelve-week-old tuxedo, darted across the floor, sending Chesa into a jealous frenzy of barks, slides, and snorts. To steal back all the attention, the dog nosed her way into Mena’s palm, who took that opportunity to snap on the retractable leash in preparation for her nightly walk.
As Chesa tired herself out chasing lizards down the driveway and across the neatly manicured and thirsty lawn, Mena emptied frogs out of the dog’s water bowl and pulled out her cell phone to check for messages, and found no one had called. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, or who she thought might call, since she rarely gave her number out, but she was somehow disappointed and felt terribly alone.
She had no one to blame but herself; both Joe and Isa had gone out of their way to get her to join them for a night on the town. Oh, well, she decided. They were better off without her along. She didn’t think she’d be such good company and didn’t want to bring the rest of them down.
Back inside, the fearless feline furball awaited their return at the door, where upon their reentry, he pulled back, then pounced. Mena set Chesa free and scooped the kitten up in one hand, holding him close to her heart. “Y tú, Emiliano Zapata, gato de la revolución, what spoils of war have you left for me today?” Looking around, she surveyed the damage. A pile of books now balanced precariously in the den, toilet paper trailed across the end of the hallway, and dirt tracks from the jade plant served as testimony to the cat’s exploration.
“Ay, gatito. ¿Qué voy a hacer contigo? What am I gonna do with you, eh?” The cat purred loudly as she kissed his head, then arched and twisted his way to tumble toward more mischief down on the floor.
Despite her canine and feline companions, Mena had no sooner closed the door behind her when the silence and loneliness engulfed her with its own demand for attention. It had taken her a long time to even want to attempt to make the cold and empty house a home. It was still furnished with only the barest of necessities: a bed, a sofa, a television, a stereo, a few knick-knacks, and some kitchen stuff. The animals helped, but not quite enough.
She pulled her keys out of her pocket, tossed them onto the kitchen counter, glanced at the mail she’d picked up on her way in, and made a detour to turn the television on. As the news anchor informed all tuned in of the latest local and breaking news, she dodged the affection-seeking and playful animals and made her way to the bath down the hall.
Peeling off her grimy shirt, she kicked her boots to the corner, stepped out of her ripped and faded jeans, and slid into the soothing stream of the shower’s spray. There, beneath the calming cascade of water, her fatigued body relaxed with her weary soul. That was when the words returned to her memory like a knife thrust deep into her core.
“El amor se va. Love goes away.”
Mena’s heart raced, and her eyes snapped open wide as she reached for the valve to shut the water off in a near panic. Grabbing the edge of the towel, she pulled it down from atop the ledge of the stall, wrapped it around her chilled body, and leaped out the door of the steamy and suffocating glass enclosure. Leaving small puddles in her wake, she hurried across the hall to her bedroom. Feeling the surge from deep within gaining force, she fought to push the growing wave of emotion down.
Knowing that her only hope was distraction, Mena tossed the towel aside and grabbed clothes from the closet. After pulling on a clean pair of socks and jeans, she snatched up her boots and keys. With the button-down hanging open and her hair uncombed and dripping wet, she ran out the door.
Why? Why were these thoughts of Sydney returning now, when she hadn’t thought of her in so long?
Even her favorite Mexican rocker of all time, Alejandra Guzmán, conspired against her tonight, as the woman’s words screamed the echo of her heartache from the Jeep’s sound system. Although she had to agree with the song’s title—Sydney had, indeed, been her worst mistake—she was unable to bear anymore and turned off the radio.
She’d been exhausted less than a half-hour earlier, but now her adrenaline was pumping. With no conscious destination in mind when she left the house, she wasn’t surprised to find herself where she’d ended up. She was, however, surprised to see the place was packed. It made sense, since it was Friday night, and it was the only bar around. Finding no place to park, she pulled out of the overflowing lot and circled the block. Finally, a Mustang peeled away from the curb with a screech that drew attention to a driver and passenger who could be seen moving and grooving in the front seats, matching the rhythm of the car’s thumping stereo.
It took Mena’s eyes a few minutes to adjust to the dim and smoky haze that clouded the small and stale room. The stench of beer, cigarette smoke, and sweat competed with a myriad of aftershaves, colognes, and perfumes. Once she could see again, she first focused on a small group huddled around the green felt top of a six-pocket table, then her eyes passed onto a pair of lonely and soon-to-be lovers on some nearby stools, until they came to rest upon some friendly and familiar faces in a corner booth: those of Isa, Glenn, Kevin, and Juan.
Still unseen by them, and not much of a party or bar girl herself, Mena hesitated by the door, second-guessing her real reason for coming. The decision as to whether she’d stay was soon made for her by the arrival of an overjoyed and somewhat-intoxicated Isa.
“Mena, I’m so glad to see you.” The woman smiled, threw her arms around her in a full-body hug, and said with the slurring of a slight beer-buzz. “What made you change your mind? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you cam
e, just curious.”
Mena released herself from the confines of Isa’s arms and said, “After I got home and cleaned up, I realized I wasn’t quite ready to call it a night. So I thought, why not?”
“That’s the spirit.” Isa quickly took her by the hand and led her across the room.
“Here! Here!” Peña, Gonzalez, Selitto, and, oh God, not him, Henderson cheered her arrival, ordered another pitcher, and motioned the women over as they themselves, with darts in hand, rejoined the rest of the group.
While Mena and the guys talked shop about the fire and their next assignments, Isa made her way over to the jukebox. She lingered there for a while, taking her time to make her selection of songs. She periodically looked up from the musical menu to glance over and smile at Mena, who not only saw, but feared and resisted her pull.
Saved by the sudden urge of a cowboy’s determination, Mena watched as Isa was swept off her feet and onto the dance floor.
Was it her imagination, or had the song been chosen for its message? Isa appeared to be more interested in looking around the man’s side and directly at her as the Randy Rogers Band sang, “Kiss Me in the Dark.”
An embarrassed Mena felt her ears redden and looked away, but she hadn’t averted her gaze fast enough. Isa wasn’t the only one who had seen her watching their every move; Peña, too, had witnessed the exchange. He watched as Mena looked down at the table’s top, then again lifted her eyes. While taking a long pull on her beer, she turned her attention back toward Isa out on the floor.
Although she smiled at the cowboy from time to time, Mena was relieved to see that Isa kept a respectable distance between their bodies, one reserved for the indifference of an uninterested stranger.
Unable, for the moment, to do any more, Mena gave free rein to her imagination. As the rest of the room faded away, she was the one there on the floor with Isa, whose hands repositioned themselves up around Mena’s neck and whose body moved in closer. She smelled the sweet scent of her perfume and could almost taste her.
During her state of distraction, Mena failed to notice the others had gotten up and moved to the pool table, where they were now chalking sticks and racking balls. But Isa had seen, and knowing time was of the essence, she thanked her dance partner, excused herself, and headed back to Mena’s side, where she hoped she’d finally have her to herself for a few minutes.
Unsure which glass had been hers and figuring whatever beer might be left in it would likely be lukewarm anyway, she followed Mena’s lead. She reached over, grabbed her bottle, and held it up, signaling to the server that she’d like a longneck.
She pulled her hair back and fanned herself with a menu. “It may not have looked like I moved enough out there to work up a sweat, but I have a thirst that is desperate to be quenched.” With slightly narrowed eyes and a coy smile, Isa moistened her lips with her tongue. Thankfully, the beer she’d ordered was delivered. Isa ran the lime wedge along the bottle’s top before squeezing it in and taking a drink.
“Ah,” she exclaimed, “relief.” She looked back at Mena. “You know, I think this is the first chance we’ve ever had to be alone.”
Mena turned her head slightly away but maintained eye contact.
“So, am I gonna have to carry on this one-sided conversation all evening? Is it me? Am I bad company?”
Finally, Mena joined in. “It’s not you, Isa. It’s me. I guess I’ve forgotten how to be sociable. I don’t get out much. I’m a little rusty.”
“Well, you can pretty much start anywhere and say anything. I know nothing about you. Other than that, you look damn good when you’re out on the line, all hot and sweaty and a little dirty.”
That brought forth a hearty laugh from Mena, who said, “Maybe I shouldn’t have showered.”
“Oh, I never said you weren’t equally as fine cleaned up and fresh, did I?”
Mena hoped it was too dark for Isa to see the blush creeping onto her face as their small talk took a flirtatious turn. And, although her mind and body urged her to go with the flow, her heart wasn’t quite following in the same way, so she steered their sharing in another direction. “So, you’re in college?”
“Grad school, actually. At the University of Northern Arizona. In the summer, I have more of an opportunity to be flexible with my location.”
“What are you studying?”
“Forestry. I don’t know that I want to be a career wildland firefighter, but I do hope to find where I fit in somewhere in the great outdoors. I love everything there is about it.” She lifted her Corona to her lips and looked over the top of the bottle, her eyes never leaving Mena’s. “What about you?”
Mena wasn’t sure how much she wanted to share with Isa. After all, she was practically a stranger. And a much younger one, at that. The attraction she felt now was out of the ordinary for her. It could be explosive and dangerous.
“I finished my first round of schooling when I decided I wanted to be a teacher.”
Isa, intrigued, asked, “Subject? Grade?”
“Middle school, Spanish. It’s a long story.”
“Tell me, how does one go from fighting fires in the classroom, which I’m told teaching is sometimes like, to battling real-life blazes? I only have the experience as a student, and I certainly don’t think it’s something I could or would ever want to do.”
Mena laughed. “Believe me, it wasn’t anything I’d planned on. It just kinda happened that way.”
“Go on. Now I have to know. If it wasn’t a childhood ambition and the answer you always gave when asked what you wanted to be when you grow up, how did your life take you that way?”
What the hell? Mena thought. What could it hurt? “You see, there was a woman…”
The laughter that shook Isa’s whole being surprised Mena. “There always is,” she said, “and she’s often the beginning and the end. Go on. This should be a good one.”
“We met in an unusual…well, a different way.”
“Online? In the checkout of a store?”
“She was a writer, and I happened upon one of her books.”
“Is this fiction or reality? It’s starting to sound like a romantic fantasy.”
“It’s a true story. For some reason, after reading her novel, I felt oddly compelled to connect with her. The first thing I did was look to see what else she’d written. A quick visit to Amazon showed she had written several other books, and her bio revealed where she was teaching. So I went to that website, searched there, and found her. It was actually pretty easy.”
“Stalker.” Isa smiled around her bottle as she lifted it for another drink.
“Yes, we later laughed about how it all played out. Anyway, I fired off an email to the address I found there, and within a few minutes, she wrote back. And that’s how it all started. How we met.”
“Sounds like Serendipity to me. Have you ever seen the movie?”
“I haven’t.”
“Maybe you should check it out sometime. It’s worth it for Kate Beckinsale alone, she’s such a hottie. Aside from her, it’s a cute and awesome rom-com, but it’s already sounding like your story could rival its screenplay.” Isa looked up as the rest of the crew boisterously headed their way.
Peña asked, “You firefighters ready to roll? We’ve got an early start tomorrow to make it to Flagstaff before too much of the day has wasted away.”
Isa and Mena stood at the same time, but Isa’s move was not as smooth; it involved a little sway.
“Are you okay?” Peña asked her.
“Yeah. I just might have had a little too much to drink, but don’t worry, I’ll be okay by morning.”
With a puckered forehead, Peña looked at Mena, pulled his keys out of his pocket, and jangled them, hoping she’d get the message.
She did. “Isa, why don’t you let one of us take you home?”
Isa lo
oked at Mena before turning to the rest of her friends. “That’s really not necessary. I promise I’m okay.”
“We’d just feel better knowing you arrived safely. Please.”
“What about my car?”
Peña was quick to jump in. “Gonzalez and I rode together. I can drive you and your car to your place, then he and I will head back to the station so I can pick up my truck. It’s not at all out of the way.”
making minimal eye contact, lowered her head and handed over her Honda’s keys. “If you insist, but I’d rather Mena took me home.”
Joe looked at Mena who nodded, happy to oblige Isa’s request, all the while questioning the reason it was made.
On the way to Isa’s apartment, Mena looked over at her passenger, eyeing her warily, wondering if she’d just been played.
They barely made it behind closed doors before Isa was all over Mena, kissing, licking, and gently biting her. Mena tried to get her to settle down and into bed; Isa was ready, willing, and seemingly stable enough on her feet to make that happen. But they failed to make it quite that far, finding themselves stalled in the living room instead. With the same soft, full, sensual lips and silky skin Mena had admired earlier in the day, a scent so sweet, and her own desire to put her past behind her and move on with her life, a worked-up Mena’s defenses were no match for the intoxicating girl. All it took was a little push and pull, and along with her zipper, she soon allowed herself to be worked down to the floor.
When Mena’s jeans were out of the way, Isa tried to get her hands inside.
Mena knew once she did, she’d find she’d had her moist for hours. So Mena grabbed her by the wrist and stopped her hand from reaching its goal. The rest of Isa’s body, however, was not nearly as easily dissuaded. With Mena’s hands successfully staving off those of Isa, she used her legs instead, wrapping them around any and every part of Mena that she could in an erotic dance of her own.