by Anthology
She pulled a mason jar from the open shelving above the sink and filled it from the tap. Her caramel-colored hair was tied in a messy topknot from which long tendrils escaped like curling ribbons.
She handed him the jar and leaned her elbows on the counter, fixing him in her sights. Her eyes were hazel, flecked with gold.
“So, what’s your story, JD?”
“My story?”
“Yes. What are you doing here?”
Her directness unnerved him. “Well, I was hoping…” he started. “Parker said…” He stopped and flung up his hands, irritated with his absent friend. Obviously he hadn’t said anything to his girlfriend about him or she wouldn’t be so damn suspicious. “Where is Parker, anyway?”
“I don’t know. I kicked him out. It was, oh, about a month ago.”
JD gaped at her. “You kicked him out?”
She tossed her head. “It wasn’t working out between us. I know he’s your friend and all, so I won’t go into details.” She gave him a hard look. “Did you ever live with Parker?”
“No.”
“Well, then.”
JD racked his brains trying to remember her name. He wished he’d paid more attention when Parker told him about her. My old lady, he’d called her, a misnomer if JD ever heard one. The girl must be in her early twenties. Her skin glowed. There was a lightness in her step, as though the world hadn’t yet pressed its cares down on her. She flashed a smile, fleeting and brilliant as the sun glinting through heavy cloud cover.
“I’m Maya,” she said.
“That’s a pretty name.”
“Thanks.”
JD took a sip of the water and put the glass down. He stood up. “Thanks for the water. Sorry about barging in on you like this. When I talked to Parker a few weeks ago he said I could drop by whenever. I told him I was moving back and he said I could crash here for a few days. But obviously things have changed.”
“He didn’t say anything about it. But that’s typical Parker. In one ear and out the other. Where are you going to go?”
“I’ll probably sleep in my truck tonight.”
“Don’t you have any other friends or family in the area?”
“Sure, I do. My brother lives in Magnolia. So do my parents. But…”
Maya cocked her head to one side again, like a bird. “But…?” she prompted.
“I don’t want to stay with them.”
“Why not?”
“My parents downsized to a condo. No room.”
“And your brother?”
“I don’t want to stay with my brother.”
“Why not?”
“You’re pretty direct, aren’t you?”
“So I’ve been told. I don’t do small talk. It’s boring.”
“Ok.”
“But if you don’t want to tell me why you and your brother don’t get along, you don’t have to.”
JD sighed. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“No.”
“Then maybe you don’t understand how competitive siblings can be with each other. My brother’s a CPA. He has a good job, a wife, and a kid. He’s thirty, only three years older than me.”
“So?”
“So, it’s embarrassing. I don’t want to show up at his house with my tail between my legs, begging for a handout.”
“Isn’t that what family’s for? To help each other out?”
“The price is too high to pay. Michael would gloat. He’d help me, but he’d gloat.”
“Ugh,” Maya shuddered. “He sounds awful.”
“He’s not. Just conventional. He doesn’t understand why I haven’t found my groove yet. Why I’d come back here, with no job, no money, no woman.” JD spread out his hands, palms up. “I’ve got nothing,” he said. The words sank into the stillness around them.
Maya blinked and stood up. “You need either a drink or a meal.” Flinging open the fridge, she peered inside. “Or both. I have teriyaki chicken leftover from dinner. I can heat it up for you. And,”—she rummaged on the bottom shelf and triumphantly held up a bottle of beer—”Alaskan Amber IPA.”
JD’s spirits rose. Bedding down in the truck would be a lot more bearable once he’d had a decent meal. Maya plunked the beer down in front of him.
“Thanks.”
“Actually, you can thank Parker for that. He left it here.” She scooped rice and chicken out of a Styrofoam container into a large handmade ceramic bowl, which she placed in the microwave.
“I don’t cook,” she said. “I know I should learn, but…” she shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe one of these days.”
“That’s one thing I can do. I worked as a prep cook in an Italian restaurant for a while.”
“Maybe you can make me dinner sometime.”
“I’d like to.”
Maya was slender, willowy and petite, and he wondered whether she was one of those strange girls who wasn’t interested in food. A spiritual, ethereal type. No matter. He was sure that a bowl of his spaghetti Bolognese would awaken her appetite. It really was irresistible.
She smiled at him, and he got the sense that she was reading his thoughts. Again. There was something fey about her, reminding him of an elf—or a witch.
“Why’d you move to California?” she asked.
“A girl. Alexis. We started going out in high school. She got accepted to UCLA and I followed her down there. I worked while she was in school.”
“How long did that last?”
“Almost six years. Until she graduated, got a good job, and realized that she wasn’t into blue-collar guys anymore.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice but Maya shot him a sharp look and he knew he hadn’t succeeded. “She hooked up with an attorney at the firm where she worked. I bummed around L.A. for another year and then decided to pack it in and move back north.”
“That’s too bad,” Maya said, sympathetically.
“Yes and no. In a way, the breakup was mutual. People can change a lot in six years. There were times when we were together I felt more lonely that I would have on my own.”
“I know how that goes.”
“I love your place,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.
Maya smiled. “The house is falling apart, but the location is kick-ass.” She pointed to the French doors beside the couch. “The ocean’s right there, past the deck. You can’t see it now. But you can hear it, always.”
It was true. The suck and pull of the waves permeated the house, and the wind blew hard against it. There was no escaping the elements in a place like this.
“Is it yours?”
“It belongs to my parents, but they haven’t lived here for years. My father lives in New Mexico, in an artist’s community. My mother married a stockbroker and lives in New York City with her second family. But I grew up in this house. It’s my consolation prize.”
Consolation for what? JD wondered whether Maya was referring to her parent’s separation or her mother’s second family. She had spoken of them without rancor. Maybe she meant her consolation for life.
Maya put the steaming bowl of teriyaki on the counter in front of him. JD’s stomach rumbled and he gave her a grateful smile.
“Maya, you rock. Are you sure you don’t want any?”
She reached over and grabbed a shred of chicken out of his bowl and popped it into her mouth. “Positive.”
He laughed. In her white shift—something between a dress and a nightgown—and with that pale skin and honey-colored hair, Maya reminded him of an angel in a picture book. No two ways about it, she was beautiful. Parker was an idiot to let her go.
He ate quickly and got up to wash his bowl and fork in the sink. Maya leaned against the counter, watching him, the cat curling around her ankles.
With his back to her, JD felt emboldened to ask the question that was nagging at him. “So what happened with you and Parker?”
There was no answer. When he turned around, Maya had moved to the couch, where she sat with her
legs folded under her.
He walked toward her, drying his hands on his shirt front. She watched him approach and JD felt self-conscious. There was something appraising in her look, as though she had a tally sheet in her head and was checking off the boxes to see whether he fit the bill.
“Maya, thanks for the food and the beer, and…”
She patted the space beside her. “Don’t run off yet. I like talking to you.”
He sat down on the opposite end of the couch. The cat jumped into his lap and he stroked her soft fur.
“Smoky likes you,” Maya said. “Which is weird, because she’s usually afraid of men.”
“Animals like me, in general.”
“I sometimes think I prefer animals to people.”
“Why?”
“They don’t disappoint you. And you don’t disappoint them.”
“Maybe that’s just because the expectations are lower on both sides.”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“You don’t have a TV.”
“Parker took it and I realized I don’t miss it.”
“Do you miss him?”
“Sometimes.” She yawned and stretched. From the way her nipples pressed against the thin cotton dress JD could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her hands still raised, she unfastened her hair and shook it loose. It was long, reaching almost to her hips. Her dress slipped off one shoulder.
“I miss having company,” she said. “Especially at night. I like curling up next to a warm body when I go to bed. It helps keep the monsters at bay. The real ones, and the ones inside my head.” She gave him a sideways look and raised an eyebrow.
“I could help with that,” he said.
“I’m sure.”
No doubt about it, she was flirting with him. JD wondered whether she was actually serious. Did she want to mess around? If so, he wouldn’t argue. It had been months since he’d been with a woman. He just hoped his machinery was still in good working order.
He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as a pain shot through into his shoulder.
“You ok?”
“Yeah. I have a crick in my neck.”
Maya scooted closer. “Turn around,” she directed. When he did, she began to rub his shoulders through his plaid work shirt. Her hands were surprisingly strong. JD closed his eyes as she kneaded his stiff muscles. “You can take your shirt off,” she purred.
JD unbuttoned his shirt and flung in to the floor. He was wearing a white tank top underneath and pulled that off, too. Her hands against his skin felt so good. The tension in his neck and shoulders began to ease.
“How does that feel?”
“It hurts, but in a good way. You’re stronger than you look.”
She squeezed his bicep, teasingly. “Where’d you get those muscles? Are you a gym rat?”
“I worked construction in L.A. Commercial projects, mostly. Although with the recession a lot of the bigger jobs dried up.”
She hit the sore spot that had been bugging him and he let out a small groan. “Damn, you’re good,” he said as the knot gradually dissolved under her fingers. At the thought of all the other places those magic hands could roam JD felt his cock rise and his breathing become irregular. Maya’s hands slid down to cross over his chest.
“You can stay,” she said. “For tonight.”
She kept her hands draped around his neck as he turned to face her. Her face glowed, with exertion or desire he couldn’t tell. As he kissed her, her lips parted and she closed her eyes. He kissed her again, harder this time, and moved his lips down to kiss her throat and the warm hollow at the base of her neck. He loosened the crisscrossing ties that held closed the front of her dress and pulled it down over her shoulders to expose her small, pert breasts. He kissed each one, slowly, teasing the nipple until it stiffened in his mouth. Maya arched her back and sighed, sinking down on the couch. JD ran his hands down her rib cage. Her skin was pale as limestone. He unbuckled his pants while Maya took off her dress. Starting at her navel, JD kissed his way down to the elastic band of her white cotton panties.
“Stop.” Maya’s hands closed over the sides of his head, pulling his face up to hers.
“I’m sorry,” he said, panting. “Am I going too fast?”
“No,” she said. “I just want you to fuck me.”
“Do I need to use something?”
“I’m on the pill.” She raised her arms to him like a siren, pulling him down to her.
Chapter 2
JD lay in Maya’s bed, staring at a crack in the ceiling. They had spooned for a while before she rolled away—taking most of the covers with her—and curled into a ball on her side with her back to him. From the evenness of her breathing he was pretty sure she was sleeping now. It was hard to believe she was really there, next to him. He touched her side, resting his hand there until he felt the slight rise and fall of her body as her breath passed through it.
He woke a few hours later, shivering with cold. Maya was gone; the covers heaped in a pile where she had lain. JD pulled the blanket over himself and tried to fall asleep again, but he couldn’t. The surf roared outside the open window and a salty sea breeze wafted in, along with the cries of seagulls and other birds hunting for breakfast on the beach. He got up and pulled on his boxer shorts. His jeans were lying on the floor in the living room and he pulled those on, too. Through the French doors he saw some tufts of sparse grass and low-lying bushes give way to a long expanse of beach and ocean, monochromatic under a grey sky.
The air was dense with a thick mist or fog that JD felt in his lungs every time he inhaled. The single paned windows were streaked with moisture and black in the corners. The house was old and weathered, and in the morning light he could see the scratches in the hardwood floor and the telltale swelling in the corners of the room where moisture had rotted out the drywall.
As he entered the living room, Smoky twined herself around his legs in greeting and then ran to the front door and mewed plaintively.
“I can’t let you out,” JD told her. “I don’t know the house rules.”
There was a coffee press on the kitchen counter, half-full. JD touched it; it was still warm. His head ached and his tongue felt thick and fuzzy. He was sure he didn’t smell too great, either. He poured himself a cup of coffee and drank it down in one medicinal draught, then went out to the truck to get his razor and a change of clothes. He didn’t know when he’d be able to take a shower again. As he opened the front door, Smoky ran out. JD sighed but didn’t chase her. He didn’t think Maya would mind.
The beige minivan was still parked next to the truck, which meant that Maya hadn’t left. Maybe she was taking an early morning walk on the beach.
The water pressure in the shower was low, but at least it was hot. Showered and refreshed, JD stepped onto the tiled floor and shaved, looking into the mirror over the sink and using a bar of soap in lieu of shaving cream. He nicked himself a couple of times and grimaced with irritation. Hopefully Maya wasn’t experiencing morning-after regret. He sure wasn’t. He felt energized now, ready for anything, and extremely grateful to the powers that be for leading him to this little oasis after months of wandering in the desert.
JD opened the French doors and stepped out onto the porch on the ocean-side of the house. To his right, behind the bedroom, stood a large wooden shed, its roof covered with thick green moss. The door was ajar. Orange electrical cords snaked out through a hole in the side of the shed and plugged into an outlet on the porch. JD jumped over the low porch railing, made his way to the shed and pushed open the door.
Maya sat on a stool at the far end in front of an electric potter’s wheel. She looked up from the clay cup taking shape in front of her.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
He stepped inside. Clay pots, plates, bowls and vases were stacked against the walls and lined makeshift shelves. Some were painted, others raw. JD walked up to Maya and leaned down. She turned her face to the side and his lip
s grazed her cheek. Her hands were covered in grey slip. She stood up and maneuvered past him to a five-gallon bucket of water in the corner, where she rinsed off her hands, drying them on the clay-streaked apron she wore over her jeans and T-shirt.
JD looked around. The place was a shambles, but her creations weren’t.
“Is this your hobby or your job?”
“I make a living at it. A small one. I share a stand at Pike Place Market with a couple of other artists. Have a mail-order business and sell stuff online.” Her voice was detached, her body language impersonal, as though she were talking to a prospective buyer.
“Cool,” JD said. He touched her arm. “I had a great time last night. Thank you.”
“Last night was a mistake.”
JD’s heart sank into his work boots. “I was afraid you’d say that. But it wasn’t to me. I think you’re amazing.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I’d like to get to know you better.”
Her expression softened, and she touched his cheek. “You’re sweet. But last night was… an aberration. I’m not in a good place right now. I don’t have the energy, or the time…”
“That’s ok.” JD spoke quickly, before she could say anything else to hurt him. “You know my situation; starting over from square one.”
Maya tilted her head so her hair fell forward, shielding her face from him.
“You’re so beautiful and talented,” JD continued. “How could I expect anything to happen between us?”
He had, though. All morning he’d been entertaining thoughts of the two of them, lying tangled together in her double bed as the surf crashed against the shore outside the open window. Walking hand in hand along the beach. Enjoying the simple pleasures of good food, good company, and good sex in her tiny slice of heaven.
The words of an old Bob Dylan song went through his mind: Come in, she said, I’ll give you shelter from the storm. That’s what Maya had done for him last night. When he was weary and dejected and unsure of himself and the path he was on, she had fed him, taken him into her house, into her bed; made him feel like someone in the world actually gave a shit about him. No matter what, he’d always be grateful to her for that.