by Alison Tyler
‘Are you calling me from a cell phone?’
‘Yes, Ma’am.’
‘Mine hardly ever works out here.’
‘You don’t have the right service, then. We get pretty good reception on this hill and in town. There are pockets where it fades in and out.’
‘How’d you get my number, Alden?’ I asked, still staring at the truck. It was the same colour as the poppies.
‘A good spy never shares his secrets.’
‘Well, how’d you know where I live?’
‘Charlene,’ he said with a laugh, ‘you really don’t know much about small-town existence, do you?’ He sounded just like Johnny, but not as cynical, somehow.
‘No,’ I admitted. ‘I don’t.’
‘Everyone’s talking about you.’
‘It’s only nine-thirty in the morning.’
‘Yeah, and the coffee shop opens before six. You were the news of the day.’
‘But I’ve been in town for weeks.’
‘You only went to The Saloon last night, though. That’s where everything happens. It’s the beating heart of Raysville.’
I heard his footsteps on the porch then, and I glanced at my reflection in the window. I was dressed, but barely. I had on one of my standard white camisoles under a thin, moss-green vintage cardigan decorated with opalescent beadwork. I was wearing the thriftstore sweater with cut-off jeans and no shoes. I hadn’t bothered with make-up, or doing my hair, which was up in a simple ponytail. But I also hadn’t invited Alden here. If he wanted to show up unannounced, then he would have to take me unprepared.
I heard the screen door open and the phone in my hand went dead.
‘See?’ he said. ‘Pockets. I just lost you.’ I watched as he flipped his cell phone closed and came into the dark living room, a picnic basket slung over one arm.
‘You ready for a tour?’ he asked. ‘And a picnic?’ He patted the basket.
‘What if I’d had company?’
‘I would have heard.’
Was that really true? If so, then I’d definitely have to watch myself. I’d already been downtown with my pants down.
‘What if I had a boyfriend?’ I asked next.
‘You didn’t appear to be too taken last night. Not the way you were dancing with all the lusty gentlemen.’
‘And what about you?’
Now he grinned. ‘Don’t let that Cody fool you. I might have dated Sheila before, but we’re not together now. In fact, we haven’t been together for a while. She’s on to Zeppelin at the moment.’
Was he for real? He definitely had attitude to spare. But I liked him. I liked his dark eyes and his easy smile, and I liked the fact that he was carrying a wicker basket, as if he’d already known I’d say yes.
‘I have to change,’ I said, running my hand over my shorts and feeling suddenly too naked.
‘You look beautiful.’
I blushed, but managed to say, ‘You said a picnic? Where?’
‘Little beach up a ways. Called “Heart’s Desire”.’
In LA the place would have been named something different. Troubled Waters. Or Love’s Lost Illusion. Something depressing or hopeless that was suitable for a city filled with broken dreams. People no longer believe in love in Los Angeles. But here, in this dazzling tiny enclave, the name matched perfectly. There were no other cars in the parking lot. Nobody out at all.
Alden walked me to the picnic benches and spread out the items he’d brought. A bottle of white wine from a vineyard in nearby Sonoma, a loaf of still-warm French bread from the Cowpie, and several types of cheeses purchased at the artisan cheese place located in the old blue bam. We had a little bit to eat, and then started to walk along the beach. Southern California beaches seem to extend forever. The sand there is warm and the water refreshing. Here, the landscape jutted out to break the beach into a tiny horseshoe. The sand was filled with small sharp rocks and tiny broken blue mussel shells that glinted in the light. It was the type of beach I imagined you’d find in Ireland; somewhere people wore heavy fishermen’s sweaters and drank from thermoses of tea spiked with home-brewed alcohol. I couldn’t image any beach bunnies in neon bikinis flocking here.
‘It’s packed in the summer,’ Alden said, as if reading my mind, ‘but, at this time of year, only locals visit, and they generally only come in the evening.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you have to pay five dollars to park in the lot, and locals won’t pay to park. It’s a thing we have. We feel that the beaches are ours. We don’t want to pay admission.’
‘Not you, though.’
‘My firefighter sticker gets me out of a lot of tickets,’ he said, ‘and I know most of the sheriffs in town from our regular Friday-night poker game.’ As he spoke, he gently pushed me back against the rocky ledge, keen to follow up what we’d been denied the previous night. He kissed me then, his hands roaming over my breasts through my sweater, and then under the cardigan to stroke me on top of my camisole. When he pressed against me, I could feel that he was hard through his jeans, and that made me sigh and lean into him so that we fit together like a human jigsaw puzzle. I hadn’t had real sex since the last night at the hotel with Johnny – in my head, the phone-booth sex didn’t count – and my body ached for the real-life connection of skin on skin.
Alden lifted me into his arms, and my legs went automatically around him. I knew in my mind what making love to him would feel like – how he’d hold me, and move me, and turn me so that the positions were just right. I could see him taking me doggy-style, working me roughly from behind, or missionary so I could stare into his eyes as he thrust in deep, rotating his hips so that he reached all those magical places within me. The thoughts were arousing, but I knew I wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.
When we parted, I stared at him, feeling myself start to smile. We were definitely starting on the right track, but I hoped he understood that I wasn’t ready to go further. Not without knowing anything about him. Still, that didn’t stop me from pulling him down for another kiss. His fingers moved automatically through my hair, pulling out my loose velvet ribbon and letting my long red hair spill free over my shoulders. He ran his fingers through it as we made out, and I felt myself relaxing into him, thinking about how sexy that felt. I could imagine him brushing my hair for me, something that I’ve always liked a man to do. Even when I go to salons, I get a little charge when the hairdresser smoothes my hair at the end of the appointment with one of those big paddle brushes.
Of course, I like those paddle brushes for other reasons, too.
Alden’s kiss lingered, his lips so soft on mine. Then he bent lower and kissed in the hollow of my neck, right at my pulse point, and I shivered all over and gripped him, holding tight. I realised in a sudden start that, if he went further, I might let him. We could become like all those write-ups I’d seen in the Levee Road News about people making out on the beach. But Alden was the one to back off. He was different to Johnny in that way. Johnny would have read my behaviour and known that he could have pushed onwards successfully, that my will would have dissolved in favour of my lust. Alden was obviously taking things slowly on purpose, but I wondered if he’d always be hesitant, the one to hold back.
‘You like it here?’ he asked, taking my hand and leading me to the water.
‘Who wouldn’t?’ I said with a smile, trying to let him know that I was talking more about him than about Raysville.
‘Isn’t it different from LA?’
‘That’s the best part. If I’d wanted to experience another big city, I would have moved to New York.’
‘Never been to New York,’ Alden said.
I couldn’t believe it. I thought about all the times I’ve flown to La Guardia airport to visit Joelle.
‘Haven’t really been anywhere,’ he continued. ‘But that’s OK. I like it here.’
At the edge of the water, Alden started to take off his clothes.
‘What are you doing?’
‘What does it look like
?’
‘I’m not having sex on the beach with you, Alden.’
He laughed. ‘You’ve got a dirty mind. I’m just going for a swim.’
I sat on a sea-worn log nearby, dug my bare feet into the wet sand and watched him undress.
‘Don’t you want to get wet?’
Now I was the one to laugh. I was wet already, from his kisses and his caresses, from the feel of his strong fingers running through my hair, but I didn’t need to tell him that. He smiled wickedly at me. ‘I’ll rephrase the question: don’t you want to take a dip?’
I shook my head. ‘I’ll watch you –’
He seemed to take the words as a challenge, immediately tearing off the rest of his clothes. I stared at his body, tanned a wood-brown, as if he spent hours swimming in the nude, as if that’s all he ever did with his spare time. When he turned to grin at me, I noticed several deep-looking scars criss-crossing his chest and ribs. They looked old, but were clearly a remnant of a nasty situation. Alden didn’t seem to be aware of them, or of my covert examination. He appeared at peace with his nakedness, a concept I found so sexy I could hardly breathe. If it had been me stripping for him, I would have been overcome by nervous energy. I thought of Johnny, asking me to strip in a phone booth. And then I thought of Alden, as he cupped up a handful of the water and tossed it towards me. Laughing, I squirmed out of the way of the salty spray.
He beckoned one final time for me before turning and plunging into the water. I caught a glimpse of his gorgeous ass, a divine specimen of male perfection, before watching him swim in broad, powerful strokes out to the floating wood raft in the centre of the lagoon, and I waved at him when he pulled himself out.
‘Come on!’ he yelled, but I shook my head. I wasn’t ready to get naked with him. Not yet.
Our proposed all-day tour of the region started and ended with the visit to the beach. We spent the entire day spread out on a frayed blanket Alden had in his truck, eating the snacks he’d brought, drinking the wine and making out. After his swim, he put his boxers back on, but stayed relatively nude. I lay next to him in my cut-offs and camisole, letting the sun warm me all over, and I finally found the courage to touch his old wounds. As I skated my fingertips up and over the scars, I asked, ‘What happened?’
‘Accident,’ he said as my fingers moved slowly over his skin. His dark eyes grew darker still. ‘A long time ago. Nothing to worry yourself about.’
I wanted to know more, but he offered no other explanation. He simply reached for a transistor radio that was buried in the picnic basket, set it up on the blanket and turned it to KETR (‘End of The Road radio’), the only station we could receive close to town, effectively changing the conversation with a flick of the dial. For a moment, we both listened to the DJ, not saying anything.
‘Once again, an anonymous donor has sent a cashier’s cheque to help out the town with supplies for the annual firefighter pancake breakfast. The Levee Road News believes that this patron is the same individual responsible for repairs done to the local pre-school, a wood-burning stove in the maritime museum and a set of brand-new hoses for the fire department.’
‘Is that true?’ I asked Alden, as the DJ put on an old R&B song. ‘You guys have a mysterious patron in your midst?’ He nodded, and I realised that, although gossip was prevalent, there were some secrets that people just didn’t share. Like Alden’s secrets. I wasn’t going to press him. I hardly knew him. But I found myself intrigued, and I snuck glances at the scars several times throughout the afternoon. When he caught me looking a second time, he rolled over on his side and slid his hand up against my flat stomach.
‘Don’t you have any secrets you don’t like to share right away?’ he asked. He was so close to me, and so sexy, and I found my mind reeling for a proper way to answer. His hand started working down, tripping along to the waistband of my cut-offs. He slid two fingers between the buttons on my fly, instantly touching me exactly where I most wanted him to. ‘Don’t you?’ he murmured, his face next to mine, his fingers probing, slow and steady.
I nodded. ‘Sure, I do.’ My voice was low.
‘So tell me one. Do it, quick, before you can talk yourself out of it.’
Now he had me in a full embrace, pulling me on top of him so that he was flat on his back and I was astride his long, limber body. I pushed forwards and thought about what I might possibly say. I didn’t know him well enough to confess my heart’s desires – even if we were on a beach that shared the name. Maybe that was his point. But, if I didn’t know him well enough to do that, then why did I feel so comfortable riding him, out in the open in the middle of this beautiful beach, our bodies fitting together perfectly? I couldn’t answer that.
I thought about what it would be like to be the type of girl who could come clean in a situation like this. A girl who might say, ‘I need a man who knows how to take charge.’ Or even ‘I like to play dirty games in bed, the dirtier the better –’ But I wasn’t that girl.
‘Cat got your tongue,’ he said teasingly, running his hands up and down my bare arms and sending shivers throughout my body. ‘That’s OK with me. You take your time, Charlie, and I’ll take mine.’
Twilight fell swiftly, turning the sky a lavender-streaked blue. With impending darkness came a cool breeze, and we headed back to the neon-orange pick-up truck. Alden drove us twenty minutes further out of town to Tommy’s, a sea-themed restaurant featuring freshly caught fish every day. I’d seen the advertisements for Tommy’s in the Levee Road News, ads filled with quotes from positive reviews. After we had our first few bites, I could see why people loved the place. The food was delicious and the setting was almost insanely romantic, tiny white candles on the wood tables and on the mantle, wild roses in small cut-glass vases, and plenty of space between the tables, to give the illusion of privacy even in a crowded restaurant.
We had a little more to drink with dinner, and Alden confessed that he’d been trying to find a way to meet me since spotting me that first day at the Cowpie. He’d gone back every morning at that same time, but hadn’t caught sight of me again.
‘I’m not really on a regular routine,’ I explained, telling him a little about my freelance work, the type of graphic arts I specialise in. ‘I don’t have to work nine-to-five. Not any more. So I don’t have a specific time of day when I venture into town.’
‘That’s what makes you different from the rest of us,’ he said. ‘You can set your watch by the times most of the locals make their treks to town.’
‘Yeah? Well, I don’t always wear a watch.’
He grinned. ‘You know what I mean. People fall into routines, even if they don’t mean to. So the locals run into their friends at the same places every day. Nine a.m. at the Cowpie, noon at the Daisy Diner, two-thirty at the post office. You watch out. It’ll happen to you soon enough.’
‘Doesn’t sound too bad,’ I said.
‘Maybe not,’ he said, ‘if you don’t mind everyone knowing your business.’
‘I don’t have anything to hide,’ I said.
‘You don’t yet,’ he said teasingly.
I was sure that he’d drive me home afterwards, but Alden didn’t make the turn up the hill on to my street. ‘I thought you might like to see where I live.’
He rounded the corner into downtown – a word not entirely suitable for a location this size – and parked his truck behind the firestation. The building’s large front doors were open and one of the engines was gone. ‘Guess they had a call,’ he said. ‘I turned my pager off when we were at dinner. Officially, I’m not working today, but you’re never really off in a place like this. When there’s trouble, everyone comes running. That’s what happened last night.’
He went in through the open door and I followed him, watching as he inspected the log book on the desk in the tiny front office. ‘Yeah. They left about forty minutes ago. Some boat’s having trouble out on the Bay. The coast guard will probably take care of it, but we have to show up in case someone needs to
be transported to the hospital. Stay here a moment, will you?’ He hurried up the stairs while I ran my fingers over the shiny red engine that remained in the station.
‘Joe’s sleeping,’ Alden said when he came back down. ‘Nobody else will be around for some time. If we need them, the Dylann Beach boys are minutes away. They’d come and cover for us if we got another call. But until then –’ he picked me up and set me on the truck ‘– it’s just you and me.’
‘And anyone who walks by,’ I said, indicating the open door of the station.
‘Do you see anyone walking by?’ He kissed me before I could answer, and I felt my resolve weakening. Just as it had that first weekend in the dorm at college. Just as it had out at the beach earlier in the day. Alden’s arms held me firmly in place and, with me perched on the rim of the truck, we were the perfect height. Slowly, he started to undo the buttons of my cardigan.
‘Joe –’ I said softly.
‘No,’ he said, nuzzling me, ‘my name’s Alden. Don’t you remember? We met officially last night at The Saloon? Besides, Joe’s got a girlfriend already.’
‘I mean, Joe could come down.’
‘He won’t, though. He’d take sleep over sex any day.’
‘The others –’
‘I told you. They’re out on a call. Even if they turned the truck around right now, it would take a solid forty-five minutes to stow all the gear and get back home. Plus it’s deer time.’
‘Deer time?’
‘They have to take it easy on the roads when the deer are out.’
He’d got my sweater off while he spoke, and now his fingertips brushed over my camisole, instantly making my nipples tent the flimsy white fabric. I was embarrassed at how easily I was aroused by his touch, but Alden didn’t say anything. He simply took advantage of the situation, firmly rubbing my erect nipples through the camisole, making them even harder with the knowledgeable touch of his strong fingertips. I groaned and closed my eyes for a second, and he touched me with even greater force, as if he understood what I needed.
‘I like how you dress,’ he said, sliding one big hand under the slim strap of the camisole and caressing my bare shoulder, my skin still sun-warm from the day outdoors.