American rust by Philipp Meyer

clear.
    “Do you want to come in for a drink or something,” she said.
    He hesitated for a long time. “Alright.”
    She squeezed his arm gently. “You can't stay over, though.”
    “I won't.”
    They sat on the back porch on the couch with a blanket over them, faces cold but the rest of them warm, they could hear a stream running down to the ravine where it met the other stream and then the river. And from there, he thought. From there it met the Ohio and the Ohio met the Mississippi and then down to the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic, it was all connected. It's all connected, he thought. It all meant something. He drank more wine. He was just drunk.
    It was warm under the blanket, they were holding hands and he closed his eyes and let the feeling sink in. There was a dark patch where the neighbor's yard began, it was a thicket now, the empty house obscured by brush.
    “When I left, someone still lived there,” said Lee. “Pappy Cross.”
    Poe finished the bottle of wine, held it above his lips for the last drops. It was a new moon, a dark night, it seemed like anything could happen, it felt like the old days, he wondered if he was just kidding himself.
    “We might as well talk about it.”
    “I'm sorry I didn't tell you,” she said.
    “It's fine.”
    She laid her head against his shoulder.
    “It's the same one from before, isn't it?”
    “Simon.”
    “The one who was with all those other girls?”
    “I'm sorry. I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it.”
    “He changes his mind so everything's different. That's pretty much the story.” He didn't know why he was saying these things, they were having a good time, from the way it was going he guessed there was a good chance she'd sleep with him if he would just pretend it was like the old days, like he forgave her.
    She tensed and it was quiet for a while but then she said: “There's a reason I was with him in the first place, you know, he wasn't all bad. Anyway, now that we're married, they feel better about helping to take care of my father. Things are about to get easier for all of us.”
    “Hope you got that in writing.”
    “Poe.” She shook her head. “Poe, you have no idea how easy it is for you to say that.”
    “I was defending you to your brother but now I think I shouldn't have.”
    Still he didn't know why he was pushing but it seemed like she'd been prepared for it, for him to act like this, she'd always been fine with having different sorts of feelings.
    “I hope you didn't tell him about us,” she said.
    “No, but I'm sure he knows now. After tonight.”
    She was shaking her head some more. She was not happy about it.
    “It's kind of his own fault.”
    She took her hand back.
    “I found out from your brother,” he said. “You could have called and told me and it would have been okay. You could have told me yourself but instead I find out from him and I'm guessing you would have split town again without calling me if we hadn't needed a ride tonight.”
    “Because I'm married.”
    “Well I'm glad you're happy.”
    “If it makes you feel better there are days when he and I don't even talk. I can't even remember the last time we had sex.”
    He wondered if she was making that up but he didn't care. He needed to hear it. Of course it made him feel better, and it seemed to make her feel better also, and after a minute they were holding each other again. He heard her swallow and he could feel her heart going and he thought go on and do it. She let him kiss her. She let herself be pulled into him and he smelled her warm breath and they held their heads together and he took in her smell, some girls smelled like their perfumes or the soaps they used but her it was just her skin. He would know it anywhere. In the mornings when she'd been sleeping all night he would just smell her, smell her chest, smell where the hair began at the top of her neck. They were like that for a long time, breathing in each other's hair, and then he