Read Grease Stains, Kismet, and Maternal Wisdom Page 5
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“I have to go now.”
“I know.”
“You have to clean up.”
“I know.”
“You have to visit your uncle.”
“I know.”
“But I’ll be back.”
“Yeah?”
“You know I’ll be back.”
“I’m so glad that you came.”
”I’m so glad that you came.”
This isn’t over. Not even close.
Outside, we embraced. She was strong, warm. My beak was sweating.
“Your mother is awesome.”
“She didn’t try to hit on you, did she?”
I remembered our pact.
“No....of course not.”
Samantha eyed me warily and then said, “Okay.”
We kissed. I was so in love with her. She hadn’t returned the sentiment yet, but I understood. I had to go.
“I have to go now.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to call you tonight.”
“Call me tonight.”
“I will.”
“Okay.”
We laughed nervously, sadly.
Samantha said, “I had a great time. Thank you.”
I said, “I had a great time. Thank you.”
My heart was heavy. But I’d be back in a couple of days. We knew this. Samantha was in Massachusetts and we knew this. We embraced again. My fingers lingered on her skin.
“I’ll call you tonight,” I said.
“Call me tonight.”
“Good luck this afternoon.”
Samantha rolled her hazel eyes.
“Yeah, I know.”
We were still under the spell. I loved this woman to death. This made no sense. It made complete sense. I had to go.
“I have to go.”
“I know.”
“I’ll call you tonight.”
“Call me tonight.”
I moved to my truck. She watched me. I watched her. I backed out of the narrow driveway. She watched. She waved. I watched. I waved. I could still see her through the branches. I honked. Happy honk. I was smitten with her. Then I couldn’t see her anymore. I bit my lip and drove. I drove back home.
The Pike was busy but moving, bright but not blurring. I cranked my live Martin Sexton CD and pounded the air around me, jubilant.