The Trouble Way

by James Seloover

  “Should I be looking out for a gunslinger with a 30-30 Winchester?”

  “No, it’s just girl’s night out. My husband is not much of a dancer and I just love to dance. So, sometimes I go out with the girls when my husband is away. I hope you don’t think badly of me. He knows I like to dance and he doesn’t mind if I go out with the girls.”

  “Well, that’s a bummer. Thanks for telling me. So, maybe I should stop asking you to dance?”

  “Don’t you dare, Jake. I love dancing with you. I just wanted to be honest with you.”

  “Why don’t you join us,” Annmarie said after he had asked her several more times to dance and wove his way back to the bar after each one.

  “If you’re sure it will be okay,” Jake said and made a final trip to the bar to get his beer and retrieve his jacket from the barstool. He found an empty chair and dragged it next to Annmarie and made himself comfortable. “Maybe I shouldn’t sit with my back to the door.”

  “You’ll just have to take your chances,” she said and gave him a wide-eyed smile.

  They danced the swing, waltz, two-step, and his own free-style when he couldn’t figure out exactly what dance it was. She followed flawlessly every move he made. It was if they had practiced for years. They enjoyed every dance together and when the band took a break, they sat with the other girls, who worked with her at the state offices in downtown Missoula. Two were married and the third wasn’t. The girl with the long flowing hair was married. She had escaped a non-dancing husband for the evening too.

  “Maybe this is an odd question, but aren’t you happy with your husband?”

  “Yes, I am very happy.” Annmarie said. “Now it’s my turn; do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

  “Shoot. I have nothing to hide ... well maybe a thing or twelve.”

  “Do you have someone special, Jake?”

  “Not at the moment. I was in sort of a relationship in Spokane but my work put the ol’ kibosh on that. She wasn’t ready to leave Spokane without a firm commitment and I wasn’t ready for the ol’ ball and chain. So, we said goodbye and good luck and we went our separate ways. Like Yogi Berra said, when you come to a fork in the road, take it. I work at Big Dicks and I was transferred here a couple of weeks ago on Valentine’s Day. They gave me three days to get here. I stayed in a motel till I could find an apartment. I’m still getting acclimated to Missoula. I really don’t know many people here, actually none, except for the ones at work. And, theoretically, management is not supposed to fraternize. Now I know you, and it’s just my luck, you’re married.”

  “Theoretically, huh? That sounds interesting. I don’t want to be too forward, but maybe we can possibly be friends. You know, maybe dance once in a while. I love dancing with you. At least until you find someone permanent ... if that’s what you’re looking for; I don’t know.”

  “Well, I have something to tell you too. Maybe I’m jumping the gun too. On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t.

  “Now you can’t not tell me after saying that. What is it?”

  “I was married several years back and it was no bed of pansies. It lasted a little over three years. I was with, how should I put it diplomatically, a lunatic. Her name is Janis. We lived together for ten months and I spent the next two and a half years trying to get myself out of that bed of needles. So, I am leery about making too much of something too soon, if you get my drift.”

  “Lunatic is putting it diplomatically?” She smiled again.

  “Is it always so damned cold here?”

  “I’m afraid it is,” she said. “At least for several more months. You better get used to it, we’re barely getting started. This is Montana; winter lasts six months in a good year.”

  “It’s so damn cold, I had to get an engine heater for my VW so it would start in the morning,” Jake said. “I have a heavy-duty extension cord sticking out of my bedroom window to plug it in overnight.”

  One by one, the band members started moseying back to the bandstand for their final set and Jake and his new, temporary-friend-’till-something-better-turned-up, Annmarie, danced till they closed down the bar.

  “Would you like to join us for a late night breakfast?” Annmarie said. “We usually go to IHOP.”

  “Sounds like a plan, if you really think it’s okay.”

  “I think I’m pretty safe with three girls to protect me,” Annmarie said.

  “It isn’t you I was worried about,” Jake said. “It’s the Winchester man.”

  She smiled and took his hand and guided him out the door. “We’ll meet you there.”

  The four girls walked to their car and Jake got in his VW and followed them to IHOP. It shared the same parking lot as Big Richards.

  After the breakfast, Jake asked the waitress for a pen and wrote his phone numbers on a napkin and passed it to Annmarie. “Call me if you ever get the uncontrollable urge to dance again. I usually get Sundays and Wednesdays off and am usually at home. I put my work number on there too.”

  “Thank you, Jake. I’m sure I will. I had a lovely evening.”

  Jake hadn’t remembered many of the girls he had ever dated that used the word, “lovely.” Annmarie was the only girl he knew who could say “lovely” in such a lovely way. Her voice was a soft, warm, almost whisper, and it was melting his heart.

  “I was wondering if you would like to meet for coffee during my lunch hour. You said you are off on Wednesdays.”

  Jake recognized that soft whisper voice immediately.

  “I was wondering if you might have tossed my napkin away,” Jake said.

  “I put it in a safe place. I have lunch from noon to one. I was wondering if you would consider meeting me at the Deli on West Main and Higgins Avenue.”

  “Sure, I’d love to.”

  “If you don’t want to, I’ll certainly understand.”

  “No, I’d love to.”

  “I feel a little embarrassed to be calling you. If you would really rather not, I’ll understand. I’m sorry.”

  “I’d really, really like to meet you for coffee. I’ll be there at noon.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m pretty sure. I’m not so sure that you are sure,” Jake said. “If you want to change your mind, I’ll understand. I know your situation.”

  “No, I don’t want to change my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking of you for the past two weeks. I told my best friend, Jan, the one with the long hair. She said to go ahead and call you. She said that, after all, it’s only coffee. So, I did.”

  “I remember Jan. So, I guess that settles it, as long as Jan said so. I’ll see you there at noon. I’ll buy you lunch, if you think Jan won’t think it’s stretching the propriety of it all.”

  “I think lunch would be lovely,” Annmarie said.

  There was that word again. Her soft voice liquefied his heart.

  “It is so nice to hear your voice,” she said. “Bye.” She hesitated for just a moment then hung up before he could rebuild his heart and utter a sound.

  Jake sat motionless in his lazy-boy listening to Willie Nelson from the time Annmarie called at 9:00 until 10:30, then took his second shower of the morning, shaved again, slapped on a bit of cologne, and dressed.

  He was at West Main deli forty-five minutes early, asked for a seat in a booth near the large windows at the front where he could watch for Annmarie, and stared out the window at the street for forty minutes. He saw her pull her white Honda Civic into the diagonal parking space across the street. She snugged the fur-lined hood of her white down jacket around her ears and walked across the street. Her face lit up in a wide smile when she noticed him in the window. She waved. His mind went blank and he completely forgot his truck driver wave and instead mimicked her feminine finger wiggle.

  He got up to meet her and, to his amazement, she gave him a sincere hug.

  “Ooooh, it’s so cold,” she said and put her cold hands in his and squeezed. She did not let loose of his hand, gripping his one hand wit
h two of hers, until they were seated.

  They both ordered soup and a sandwich and both had coffee with cream.

  “I’m not sure how to explain this,” she said, “but I am feeling a little strange and don’t exactly know what to say.”

  “Well, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t feel like it,” Jake said. “I’m glad that you called and it’s really good to see you. I am not sure what to say either.”

  “Maybe we just shouldn’t say anything for the moment,” she said. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this but I am infatuated with you but I feel really confused about my situation.”

  “Why don’t we just have our lunch and get to know each other a bit. You know, be friends. There is no need to have to try to explain a bunch of stuff. And for a bit of information for you, I am infatuated with you too. I don’t think there was even a second when you were not on my mind since we danced. This is sort of a new experience for me. I usually don’t have such feelings for someone since, you know, the lunatic. And that’s been nearly ten years ago.”

  “My goodness. I’m so sorry,” Annmarie said and reached across the table and took his hand.

  “Why don’t we just consider this something special,” Jake said. “Something that is entirely separate from everything else in our lives, past or present.”

  “I’m not sure how that will work,” Annmarie said. “But I want you to know that I am not going to get divorced, no matter what. That is what has me so confused. I want to talk to you but I don’t want to lose what I have. Maybe the best way is to do what you say. Make this something that is just between you and me and forget everything else while we are together.”

  “I’m not sure how far this is supposed to go,” Jake said.

  “I don’t know either,” she said, “but I can’t think of any other way to do it. I am infatuated with you, I know that. And I don’t want to stop seeing you.

  “I think I can live with it. I don’t want to stop seeing you either.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jake. I know that isn’t fair to you.”

  “Well, you know what they say about life being fair. Why don’t we just see what happens and just enjoy the trip. Maybe things will just end of their own accord but I sure hope not.”

  They spent much of the hour staring at each other and smiling. The hour passed quickly. Annmarie gathered up her jacket and purse, stood while Jake grabbed his jacket and they stood beside the booth, facing each other.

  Jake was not sure what the proper thing to do in this situation. He knew what he wanted to do. She solved his dilemma by stepping forward and giving him a bear hug.

  “Thank you for coming to see me,” she whispered in his ear and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, I have to go.” She dashed to the door, leaving him to attend to the business at the register.

  The phone was ringing when he put the key in his apartment door. He counted four rings and thought he would miss the call before he picked up the receiver to say hello.

  “I just wanted to let you know I had a wonderful time today. Thank you so much for lunch. I hope we can see each other again sometime soon. I have to get to work now. Bye Jake.”

  She was gone before he even had a chance to say “slap-my-ass.” He sensed his heart softening yet again.

  “This is Annmarie, may I help you?” Annmarie answered in her professional voice. When she heard it was Jake, there was a change. “Hi.” It was the whisper voice that changed “Hi,” into a word that, if it were chocolate, it would be a silky smooth truffle.

  “Can you talk?”

  “Hold on just one second, let me close my door.”

  Jake could hear the click of her heels on a tile floor and the door close. “It’s so nice to hear your voice. I have to tell you, I am due in a meeting in a few minutes. How are you today?”

  “Pretty good. It is nice to hear your voice too. I won’t keep you. I was just wondering if the ‘Dancing Girls’ will be on the prowl tonight.”

  “I talked to Jan earlier today and she said that her husband is out of town and that she wanted to go dancing but it won’t be till tomorrow night. So, yes, Jake, the ‘Dancing Girls’ will be out, but not tonight. Please tell me you will be able to make it tomorrow night?”

  “Saturday night is good. What do you think, The Cabin again?”

  “That would be wonderful. I would love to see you again.”

  “Well, I guess it’s set then,” he said. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

  “I have been thinking of you all week,” she whispered.

  Annmarie used words like “wonderful,” and “lovely,” in a way that made Jake feel as though he were a sexy man.

  They had only been together twice, once at The Cabin when they met and the second time for lunch at the deli in downtown Missoula. Twice was enough for Jake, he was treading-water, over his head, deep in love with her. He hadn’t even been to bed with her; something he thought was a requirement to being in love.

  When he finally freed himself of the lunatic, he made it a priority he wouldn’t fall in love until he had bedded at least a hundred women. He was determined to be sure he was experienced enough to know love when it came knocking at the window. Well, he wasn’t too far short of that goal, but this little affair with Annmarie threw everything out of kilter. All that experience didn’t offer shit in the way of guidance for the situation he found himself in.

  It was not in Jake’s nature to be late for anything. Well, it was his nature before he spent four years in the military. One entire weekend of raking grass for ten hours a day for “failure to repair,” – that is what being late is called when you are in the military – cured him of that particular sin; he had been seven minutes late for formation.

  The down side of being early was that everyone else is late, and he had to figure out what to do with the down time. It usually turned out to be a bit spendy too, as in this particular case; he bought another beer to kill the time.

  While he was homesteading his place at the bar, nursing his beer, he listened to the “cryin’, dyin’, or goin’ someplace” country songs pouring from the jukebox. Jake wondered if he would eventually get to sleep with Annmarie. Under normal circumstances – normal for him, that is – he would already have been in the sack with most of the girls he had met by the second date, max. If truth be told, in the majority of cases, it was the first date and was rarely the second or more. He thanked the stars in his galaxy – the same galaxy that deprived him of Annmarie’s exclusive love – to have been a charter member of the sexual revolution of the sixties and seventies. It was not only men that went to bed with women on the first or second date, it was a myth that the reverse was not also true, believe it or not. He did not consider himself anywhere close to a Don Juan. Usually, he found, it was the women who initiated the early sex. He discovered early on to merely make himself available. Women simply took advantage of his accessibility to jump his bones.

  He knew for a fact, once shoes came off — Make yourself comfortable — it was less than the time it took Willie to sing Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain to end up between the sheets, guar-an-fuckin’-teed, a boast his friends back in the Air Force were fond of saying.

  When it came to Annmarie, he was not of a mind to pressure her. But, he sure as shit wasn’t of a mind to play hard to get, regardless of what advantages that theory was professed to have. Not that he had a clue how that worked anyway.

  Deep in thought and nursing that extra Bud, Jake noticed the girls sashay into the bar. This time, the “Dancing Girls,” were shy by two; the two who showed up were Annmarie and Jan. One of Annmarie’s hands had a grip on Jan’s elbow and the other hand clutched the first, like they were in a wedding procession. More likely, it was the cold of the Missoula night that enticed her to keep as close as possible to another warm body. It didn’t surprise Jake; more evidence Annmarie was a touching sort of gal.

  “Hi.” It was another of Annmarie’s unique whisper “Hi’s” that seemed to linger as though
it were a warm, gentle breeze. A “Hi” that loitered in Jake’s mind and whirled like a dust devil. A “Hi” that kept returning and caressing his thoughts for days. Even when he forgot many of the other things they talked about, the “Hi” seemed to always be with him. If she said nothing more than that, it would have been enough. He did not think she was aware her voice had such a profound effect on him, but then again, he could be wrong. Maybe she did know the power she possessed. You never knew with women.

  Annmarie was careful about touching Jake overly much while they were in such a public place. She would frequently make innocent lingering contact with his hand or arm with her hand gestures in the course of conversation. Jake sensed they were more than mere conversational gestures.

  Jan knew the situation, and Annmarie had complete trust in her long-time friend, but she did worry about someone in the bar seeing her at a table with a man not her husband who may not have been as trustworthy.

  It was a different matter entirely when they were on the dance floor. Jake prayed for the slow songs where he could draw Annmarie close and feel her warm body against him. He was careful to make sure he always held her in the traditional way, with her right hand in his left. They never tangled themselves with both arms around each other’s bodies like some of the obvious lovers did. She had a wonderful way of putting her left arm high around his shoulder and managed to snuggle her chest tight to his, as if she were shielding him from the icy Missoula air that may slip between them.

  Back in high school, the chaperones were always harping at the couples to “leave space for Jesus,” between them. She always held his hand resolutely as if he might escape, which, of course, there wasn’t an ice-cube’s chance in a hot frying pan he had any intention of allowing.

  Sometimes he was lucky and she would put her lips close to his ear and whisper her sexy thoughts. To Jake, all her thoughts were sexy.

  Other times, when he managed to guide them into the dark recesses of the dance floor, she would give him shivers by sneaking her fingers beneath his collar and pull it down enough to brand him with a warm, lingering kiss on his neck. Later, when the night was over, he discovered the imprint of her lipstick on his neck and did his damnedest to re-live the experience in his mind.