The Overnighter's Secrets

by J. L. Salter

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Afternoon

  Beth stared at her phone after disconnecting.

  Mid-afternoon at her work, Shane had called and said he wanted to come by before supper. And he added, “Don’t take your shoes off.”

  That had to mean they were going out to eat. But where? Why? What’s the occasion?

  So Shane was taking her out tonight. Beth wondered why she felt so—what was the word?—animated, enervated, twitterpated. Practically as giddy as their first few dates when everything was new, surprising... twitterpating.

  None of their encounters since Shane’s arrival in Verdeville had occurred anywhere other than her cottage. What’s different now?

  ****

  When Beth got home a few hours later, the first thing she did was kick off her shoes and open her closet. Not many possibilities. Her Verdeville years had featured mainly slacks and low heels for work, and jeans and sneakers everywhere else. She’d worn a short skirt and sexier heels when Connie once dragged her to a club in Nashville, but that outfit had attracted too much attention of the kind she didn’t want at that point.

  She probably couldn’t even fit into that skirt now. But she tried. It was sheer will power that allowed her to squeeze into it... and only by the grace of strong stitching that she remained. Not even enough space for pantyhose, had she remembered to put them on first. Bare legs would be okay in the dark. She put on her four-inch pumps, also black, and stood back enough to see what the mirror said. Very hot.

  The blouse she’d worn to work was dressy enough for dining out. Right as she was wondering whether to change her brassiere, she heard Shane’s new Harley outside. Motorcycle! What had she been thinking? A biker never wants to travel in a coupe unless it’s raining. But she couldn’t ride on the back of a bike in that skirt! If mounting didn’t split it right up the side, the wind factor would freeze her legs off by the time they’d traveled two blocks.

  Stinking motorcycle!

  When Shane stepped inside, he actually whistled. “Bethany, you look absolutely gorgeous!” He made two quick circuits around her. “Good enough to eat.” Then he leaned over and kissed her cheek. In these four days he’d been in town they had not yet kissed. Just a peck here and a hug there, but she could tell he wanted to. Beth wasn’t completely sure what she wanted. Right then, she had butterflies in her tummy.

  Shane was also dressed differently. He’d shaved, for one thing, making it the first time Beth had ever seen his entire face without whiskers somewhere. Well, he’d kept a mustache, but not the usual handlebar. This was neat and trim like Tom Selleck used to wear on TV. When Shane smiled, he seemed an entirely different man.

  “So what’s the big occasion, Shane? You kept me wondering all afternoon.”

  He just smiled again and hugged her. “You work so hard, Bethany. And you’ve had all this, uh, stress and stuff. I just figured you might want to get out of the coop for a change.” He looked her up and down. “I hadn’t truly forgotten, you understand—but it kind of takes my breath away, Bethany—how beautiful you are.”

  That warmed her. Gosh, that warmed her.

  “So... you hungry? Where’s a good place... with real food?”

  “Hold on, Shane. I can’t ride like this.”

  “What do you mean? You look delicious.”

  “We’d be showing way too much in this outfit.” She demonstrated by sitting on top of the couch arm. Her skirt rode up, way past mid-thigh. Then she briefly spaced her knees as they would be if straddling the motorcycle’s padded seat. “See what I mean?”

  Shane’s eyes grew huge. “Uh—”

  “Yeah. Exactly.” She stood and smoothed down her skirt. “Have a seat and I’ll find something I can ride in.”

  Shane looked like his mind had shifted completely away from food. She could tell his eyes followed her shapely rear as she made her way to the bedroom.

  Beth pressed the door mostly shut, but it didn’t actually touch the jamb. She sighed as she peeled away the too-tight skirt. She put back on her slacks from work... and the lower heels. She found a scarf for her ears and the leather bomber jacket she hadn’t worn in three years.

  She paused to ask the mirror’s opinion. Not hot by any means, but she looked quite familiar. Like someone Beth used to know. Someone Beth had missed a great deal.

  Moments later, they were on the road.

  The mid-October evening was moderate: mid-fifties. On the Harley it felt twenty degrees colder. Clinging to Shane’s torso with her face tucked behind his broad shoulders brought back fond memories of cruising Highway 1 towards Newport Beach on the old shovel head. But that was another time and place... another bike. Also, a different Beth. Maybe a variant of Shane, too.

  For a good filling meal at reasonable prices, Beth had suggested the Barbecue Pit. Most direct route was down to Exit 233, pretty close to Shane’s lodgings, and then nine miles east on the Interstate at 75 mph. By the time they reached Exit 242 and looped around to the frontage road, Beth’s teeth were chattering. She’d forgotten how open one is to the elements while clinging to a biker.

  They were seated quickly and the waitress left with their drink orders. When Beth removed her jacket, her bosom thrust forward briefly. Shane obviously noticed and his eyes grew large like a puma sighting a potential meal. Behind those eyes were memories; mixed-in seemed to be considerable sadness.

  He shifted gears. “Have you seen any sign of Ricks?”

  Beth shook her head sideways.

  “So, no more of those creepy feelings that you’re being followed?”

  “Not since he cut me Monday night.” Four days ago. Her fingertips automatically touched the faint scar at her neck. “Why?”

  “He definitely knows that I’m here... looking for him.”

  “How could he?” Beth absent-mindedly twisted her paper napkin ring.

  “He’s questioned the same people I’ve been talking to. Did I tell you about the guy at the bar? Cratchit?”

  Beth didn’t reply. Having to focus again on Ricks had dimmed her entire mood.

  Shane looked into her face and likely wondered how much she comprehended. “Before, Ricks was hunting you... and his M.O. was to frighten and harass.”

  “Plus, he wanted something from that little suitcase.”

  “Right... which we still don’t know what. But, anyway, now Ricks is the one being hunted... so his primary M.O. is cover and concealment.”

  “But that assumes he’s sober enough to even think straight.”

  Shane thought for a moment. “Good point. We don’t know how straight he is right now. It’s probable, having been hired by somebody, that he has pressure from higher up to stay sober.”

  “Finally a degree of accountability in his life.”

  Shane nodded.

  “So, if Ricks knows you’re here looking for him, does that mean he calls it quits and heads back for the coast?”

  “Don’t think so.” Shane shook his head slowly. “Whoever hired him probably won’t let him go until the job is done.”

  “When will his job be done?”

  “When they get what they want.”

  Beth shivered, but not from the restaurant’s temperature.

  Shane looked into her face and reached across the table for her hands. “Your hands are freezing.”

  “The ride. Forgot my gloves.” She almost felt like a newbie again. “Haven’t been on a bike lately.”

  He kept her hands and lightly rubbed her cold fingertips. “Don’t worry, Bethany. As long as I’m here, Ricks can’t hurt you.”

  “I know.” She said the words even though she realized it wasn’t quite that simple. As her friend Jeff had noted, Shane couldn’t be everywhere at all times. All Ricks would need is a small opening of time. Hmm. Timing.

  “Oh... wanted to ask you about the rail yards.”

  Beth frowned. “Huh?”

  “Cratchit said Ricks was asking about train yards. I wondered why.”

  “Mayb
e he’s going to ride the rails back to the coast.”

  Shane produced a smile, but it looked tired. “What’s good here?” He opened the colorful menu.

  “Everything.”

  The Barbecue Pit was quiet for a Friday evening. Verdeville High School had a home football game, so the crowds wouldn’t arrive until the stadium emptied later.

  Shane seemed to want to say something, but he hadn’t spit it out yet. When the food arrived, Shane’s appetite was evident but afterwards, he declined dessert.

  So did Beth. “Okay, I’ve been waiting all evening for you to explain why we’re out tonight.”

  “Already told you... thought you might be feeling cooped up.”

  Beth didn’t respond, but her eyes got cloudy.

  “What’s wrong, Bethany? I thought you liked going out.”

  She nodded and mouthed the words, “I do” but no sound came out.

  “So, what’s the matter?”

  “These last few days... always at my house... mostly after dark—I thought maybe you didn’t want to be seen with me.” A tear fell down each cheek.

  “What? Are you kidding? The best looking woman in County Greene? No way, Bethany. In fact, you’ve actually got it backwards.”

  Beth sniffled loudly and stared. “What do you mean?”

  “I thought I was making it easier on you,” he swallowed hard. “I didn’t want to embarrass you, here in your new, uh, setting—your new... life.”

  “It’s the same life, Shane. But I just feel like I have more choices now.” She paused to replay that line in her head. “My life isn’t new, but I have a different attitude about it. I don’t want my existence to be swallowed up by anybody like it was with... Robert.”

  Shane nodded. He understood that much.

  “But also, I don’t want to be an accessory to somebody else—don’t feel like being a bench warmer.”

  “Did you feel that way... with me?” He spoke slowly and quietly.

  She first weighed the words in her mind. “You love your Harley... well, both of them now. You take care of it, protect it... and you’re understandably proud of it. But it’s a bike.” She gulped and her eyes reddened. “Sometimes—and I can’t explain it probably—sometimes I felt I was a belonging, like your shovel head... but maybe in second place.”

  “No, Bethany... never. You were always first.” He pointed out the window into the dark parking lot. “A bike can be replaced... even a shovel head Harley with matching numbers. Not you. Not you.”

  “Used to be the other way…the bike was irreplaceable and girls would come and go.”

  Shane didn’t reply right away. He couldn’t truthfully deny it. “That was a long time ago...”

  Beth dabbed at her eyes with a thin paper napkin. Why had they never discussed any of these things in Long Beach during their time together? How could it be that they’d have more, and more meaningful, conversations in Verdeville in four days than in California over four years?

  The waitress returned with their bill and, after seeing their faces, hurriedly slid it upside down on the table before scurrying away.

  “I’m sorry if anything I did or said... somehow made you feel that way, Bethany. How can I convince you?”

  She didn’t reply right away. “I just need to know—at least every once in a while—that I’m something more than a possession that you’re protecting.” She struggled for the right words. “Something more than a warm body on a cold night.” She looked around the restaurant and saw other people entering, so she lowered her voice. “In a relationship, the woman needs to be a partner and a mate. Not just—”

  Shane looked slightly confused. One of the things they’d hardly ever discussed or defined was their relationship. To him, it was probably: they dated and started living together... then she left. That was accurate as far as it went, but incomplete and terribly superficial.

  Beth had always imagined so much more. Always hoped it was more. But she never knew for certain.

  As he had been on their rather few previous starts discussing such matters, Shane was silent for a long time. “Bethany, something you need to understand—I can’t always come up with the right words to explain what I feel.” When he gulped again, his Adam’s apple lurched dramatically. “I love you and I, uh, treasure you... and that’s why I want to protect you. Not because I own you. Nothing to do with ownership.”

  More tears soaked Beth’s paper napkin. “Why didn’t we ever discuss any of these things before?”

  “Talking about this stuff makes me sweat.” He was obviously dead serious, but his phrasing was funny.

  In spite of her tears, Beth giggled. “Sweat?”

  Shane nodded and then lifted an arm to show the proof.

  She couldn’t restrain her smile. “Okay. I’ll let you off the hook since you invoked the sweat waiver... but if we’re going to have any future, we have to be able to talk.”

  “I’ll buy a better roll-on.”

  Beth slapped his wrist.

  “You know, I’m actually glad we did discuss all this... despite all my sweat involved.”

  She looked at his face with a question in her eyes.

  “One of the reasons I’ve mostly stayed clear of your new friends is that I’d thought you might be a little self-conscious about them seeing you around a beat up old biker.”

  Beth peered at him like she was evaluating a used vehicle. “You’re not so beat up. Yeah, your mileage is showing a bit more these days... but I’d say you’re a pretty sound investment.” She pinched the skin on his thick wrist. “Of course, I should kick the tires and take you for a test ride first.”

  Shane’s eyes grew large again. “That could mean a lot of different things, Bethany.”

  She realized that right after she’d said it. But the imagery was out there now and she couldn’t reel it back. Beth was confused. She’d finally gotten used to being without Shane and now he was back in her life being considerate, charming, strong, and protective. Even sensitive. And he shaved!

  As Shane paid the bill, Beth stood at the exit and looked at the new Road King. It really was a fine bike and would be a wonderful ride on a warm sunny day. They were so intimate on the Harley that only making love could have them any closer.

  Despite the chilly ride back to her place, Beth felt a lot more alive than she could remember in a long time. A very long time: all the way back to her earlier home life and young school days. Possibly being a change of life baby when her mom was thirty-six. Perhaps because her only sibling was fifteen years older and more uncle than brother. Or maybe it was nothing external. It might simply have represented some inner restraint or reservation. Or fear. Whatever it was, meeting Shane had tipped a balance and shown Beth a view of life which had more vitality and more fullness. But she’d always sensed there was still something else... something more. More what? She wasn’t sure. But more of it. More than she’d ever imagined. More.

  Was it good more or bad? She couldn’t tell. If it made her feel additionally alive and extra free, perhaps that was good. But why did it wait so long to surface? Why only under such extraordinary and dangerous circumstances? She didn’t know. And as she squeezed herself into the broad strong back of her confident, capable biker, she didn’t actually care. This felt so natural, so right... and so overdue. She knew it had to be good. It’s all good, as Shane often said.

  Her teeth weren’t chattering as much on the ride home. She didn’t know why. Shane never seemed to be cold, so it wouldn’t help to ask him.

  After he turned off his bike and knocked down the kickstand, Shane seemed to want to come inside.

  A debate raged within Beth. Her brain said “No, not yet.” But her gut said “Heck yeah! Finally!”

  She invited him in. “Want to watch a movie... or is it too late?” She pointed to a small case near her television. “My DVD collection has expanded a little...”

  “Yeah. Sure. If you have popcorn.” Shane grinned. His face looked so different when shaven. Mor
e mature. No, not older, just wiser. Better.

  “You get comfortable and I’ll start nuking the popcorn.” Beth spent a couple of minutes in the kitchen and then went to the bathroom, adjacent her bedroom. One thing about cold rides on motorcycles, they were more effective than diuretics. Then she shifted to her bedroom, kicked off her shoes, and sat on the bed. She looked around the somewhat drab space. She’d never painted or decorated; actually she’d just left the place as the landlord had rented it. But now she suddenly realized the functional curtains were rather ugly; more decorative window treatments would be nice. A bit of subdued stenciling around the tops of the walls could provide some designer interest. She should repaint the drab trim which framed the closet, windows, and door—maybe bright white enamel.

  Then she closed her eyes and fell back onto the bed. Why was she thinking about all that now?

  From the kitchen Shane called, “The pops are pretty far apart... I’m goin’ in.”

  “Okay...” Beth rolled into a seated position and looked toward her open closet. She needed to shuck these slacks and the silk blend blouse. What would she put on? In the movies, she’d make her entrance wearing a sexy nightie. In a romance novel, maybe she’d dress as a female vampire. Ha. But what would down to earth Beth Muse wear on the night her ex-lover was one room away and looked good enough to devour? Sadly, she realized she no longer owned a frilly nightie and certainly not an exciting costume. But in the dresser’s bottom drawer was a powder blue fleece outfit for the exercise class Connie twice dragged her to. It wasn’t actually pajamas, but no one should wear them to the mall. At least Beth wouldn’t.

  When Beth finally entered the other room, Shane was already engrossed in channel surfing. He paused on the sports networks but finally settled on a show about custom choppers. He looked up as she joined him on the couch, but didn’t comment about her apparel. What would he say? Nice fleece?