Yesterday, Sheila purchased Killing. Having read a few pages, she returned today and bought Close to the Edge, Exchanges and A Hitch in Twilight. I was so stunned I forgot to offer her other books as a token of appreciation. Fortunately, she and her husband passed a while later. My sincerest thanks, and also to all the others who patronized the floating book shop. It would have been a decent haul without the sale of my own books. And when I moved the car for the alternate side regulation, there was a spot right in front of our building. Sometimes things just go your way.
Here's an excerpt from a short story, Fall, published circa 2000. The title refers to the season and to succumbing to temptation. Warning to those it might offend -- it's a tad naughty. My guess is it's about a ten-minute read:
Head down, he entered a large department store, chastising himself for not eying the females present. He had to forget Lisa and find someone. Trouble was, no one appealed to him at present. He'd barely thought of anyone else since he'd given her the poem. He'd wanted to be pure, free, should she have chosen to be with him. What woman would want him in his current state of mind?
In the men's clothing department he scanned the sport jackets, surprised, appalled at the prices. Did he really need one? His suit, although 20 years old, was in mint condition and still fit perfectly. He doubted he'd worn it 20 times. The pants were even a bit loose now, as he hadn't much appetite lately. He grumbled, annoyed. What was he doing here - killing time? Suddenly he recalled he'd wanted a black jacket should his mother, who was 90, pass away. His eyes contracted with pain. Why was he thinking of such a thing?
"Nicky?" a female voice called softly.
He looked left. He stared, although he was unsurprised at who it was. "Ro? Hi. How you doin'?" To his embarrassment, his eyes glazed. He looked away, wondering what she must be thinking.
Tense, she tugged at a strand of her long reddish hair, a quirk he'd seen her do a thousand times. It warmed his heart. She was wearing light blue spandex that clung to her legs. He chuckled at her fondness for athletic wear. In all the time he'd known her, he'd never seen her engage in exercise.
"You look great," he said quietly, "as usual."
She avoided his gaze, apparently struggling with herself. She shook her head, as if amazed. "How do you do it? You gotta be pushin' fifty."
"Steroids," he said lifelessly, his standard quip to the query.
She chuckled briefly, then was again bitten by tension.
"I haven't seen you in front of your mother's lately. Are you and your husband still there?"
She made a face. "Yeah."
He was disappointed, having hoped they'd split.
Soon there was an uncomfortable silence between them. He broke it.
"So how've you been? How's life treatin' you?"
"I'm bored," she said, looking at him, then away, jaw clenched.
He froze. She'd wasted no time. Apparently she'd returned to her old ways, her true self. It was her nature to sleep around, as it was his to sleep alone. She was biting her lower lip, gazing sidelong with what was almost a leer. He recognized the look, one she'd given him 22 years ago on the steps in his hallway, when she 15. He'd torn himself away, believing that in three years he'd be able to do whatever he wanted with her - and he planned a lot. They'd misfired ever since, even after she'd wed, each taking turns at reluctance, despite the lust teeming between them. Now temptation was again beckoning, and Nick was teetering like the last bowling pin standing, more vulnerable to a fall than ever. It'd been so long. Recently, for the first time in his life, he'd contemplated hiring a hooker, not for sex but simply to cuddle so he would again know the relief of being flesh to flesh with a woman. Ro was so attractive, so sexy, so trim, although she was starting to look her age. He didn't want her, however. He wanted Lisa. He was miserable without her, even though he'd never even had her. Ro might afford temporary relief, he knew, but he might be even more miserable later. And he didn't want to be miserable. He wanted to be happy. He wanted to be decent, like Lisa. Ro had no interest in children. She didn't want to be tied down.
"You might be disappointed," he said, looking at the floor. "I'm not the man I used to be."
There was a puzzled flash in her hazel eyes. Apparently she didn't know what to say or do. Upset at what she might be thinking, at his own unmanliness, he seized her arm. "C'mon," he said, pulling her along. She did not protest. In fact, she seemed to be fighting for breath.
Suddenly he let go of her, realizing there might be neighbors present. He didn't need an irate cuckold in his life. Walking quickly, head down, he led her toward the exit. Not a word passed between them. The lot had filled considerably in the brief time he'd been inside. It was Saturday. Shoppers were scurrying toward the store.
As soon as they were seated in his car, they kissed, hungrily. Ro dug her fingers into his biceps, examined their shape. He surrendered completely, shutting off his mind, until she became bolder.
"Not here," he said, breathless, caressing her high forehead, the only physical feature of hers he didn't like. "If we're finally gonna do this, let's do it right."
Right? he thought, stung by the irony. She was another man's wife. He started the car.
For more than 20 years he'd fantasized about having her any time, anywhere, even in broad daylight. What he wanted now, however, was intimacy, not lust. Would he get that from her? It seemed absurd to think so. He feared he was being as foolish as he'd been in falling hopelessly in love with a woman 18 years younger than himself.
She sat against him, a hand resting delicately on his thigh.
"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" she said with quiet difficulty. "Look."
She spread her legs, looking away, eyes closing. He shuddered violently, a surge he hadn't experienced in what seemed ages. What was she doing with him? She needed studs to satisfy her. He was amazed at the circumstances, and peeved at himself. He was going to have sex with a woman he'd always wanted - and all he was feeling emotionally was sorrow. He felt he was spiraling downward. He was about to cede the moral high ground. He would never again be able to condemn adultery. He feared he would weep at the sight of her breasts, feared he would be thinking of Lisa's, feared he would hurt her.
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