no qualms about moving near, and got within two feet of the pony wall. He now snagged his biscuits in mid-air, and with each catch, Craig’s grin widened. “I, of all people, should know better than to mess with wild animals, but I gotta admit this is a kick in the ass. I’m having trouble building up guilt here. This guy is a hoot.”
“I enjoy him. He is a little hairy, but he’s all I got in the here and now. Pitiful, ain’t it?”
Craig’s smile vanished. “Beats having nothing.”
“Wanna go cry together over spilt beer?”
“We can’t have beer.”
“We’ll give it up tomorrow.”
“Oh, what the hell. Where?”
“St. Elmo, where we’re sure to find trouble.”
“Super.”
St. Elmo bar, in Bisbee’s famed Brewery Gulch, shows every year of its hundred, and is my kind of joint. Dive, actually.
When we bellied up to the bar, it was still early, so we were not the only tourists. A few locals were about, looking as though they’d been there since their first breakfast beer. The famed jukebox played at a decibel level a tad lower than that of a sonic boom. We could barely hear each other as I recounted the adventures of Hetta and Jan on our trip down the Baja, and the messes we got into.
“I knew you two were headed for trouble when you left with that dishy Mexican boat captain.”
“Fabio. Yep, he’s a looker, all right. A happily married looker, so no trouble there, darn it.”
“You talk a good game, but I don’t think Jenks has a thing to worry about with you. And now Jan has hooked up with Chino. You know,” he turned up his beer bottle, finished it off and signaled for another. “I think I will go to the Baja for a visit with them.” The Craig I know and love rarely drinks more than one beer, and he sure as hell doesn’t take off on trips on a whim, like I do. I fixed him with the evil eye. “Okay, that’s it. What happened?”
“Like I said, I had an epiphany. I want to change my life, and I’m starting with actual free time. I’ve worked my ass off ever since I started my business, and now it is time to smell the roses.”
“Oh, God, you’re not going to take off for Nepal to contemplate your navel, are you?”
That got a grin. “Nope, but I am doing a lot of thinking while I’m out on those walks and runs. Losing weight has to be for the right reason: me. If I do it just to attract a partner, I have failed myself.”
“Dang, that’s deep. You know, I set out to change my life a couple of years ago when I bought the boat, and in a way, of course, I have. But what started out as a manhunt ended up with a new life. I did meet Jenks, but only after I let go of some of my own demons. Jenks finds me refreshing, or so he says. I’m so glad I didn’t meet him a few years back. Don’t think he’d have found me refreshing at all. More like a ball breaking feminist hell-bent on self-destruct.”
“You did have a distinctive chip on your shoulder, and very bad taste in men.”
“You can talk. However, you’re right about my history, and you know what worries me the most?”
He shook his head.
“That if I lose Jenks I’ll revert to type.”
“No, I don’t think so, Hetta. You’ve mellowed.”
“Must be the age, because my bad habits still lurk, they just have to go to bed earlier.”
For some reason, probably the beer, Craig found this hilarious, and our laughter drew the company of one very good looking gay guy and a rugged cowboy, who bought me a beer. Tempted to stay awhile and flirt, we soon parted company with our admirers, lest those past devils messed with our good intentions.
On the drive home, snowflakes hit the windshield, which I thought was neat because I hadn’t seen snow in years.
While I was loading the coffee pot, Craig came into the kitchen for a glass of water.
“Thanks, Craig, for coming. I needed company and yours is just the ticket. I miss Jenks so much, and I’m terrified I’ll lose him if I keep screwing up.”
“So,”
“I enjoy him. He is a little hairy, but he’s all I got in the here and now. Pitiful, ain’t it?”
Craig’s smile vanished. “Beats having nothing.”
“Wanna go cry together over spilt beer?”
“We can’t have beer.”
“We’ll give it up tomorrow.”
“Oh, what the hell. Where?”
“St. Elmo, where we’re sure to find trouble.”
“Super.”
St. Elmo bar, in Bisbee’s famed Brewery Gulch, shows every year of its hundred, and is my kind of joint. Dive, actually.
When we bellied up to the bar, it was still early, so we were not the only tourists. A few locals were about, looking as though they’d been there since their first breakfast beer. The famed jukebox played at a decibel level a tad lower than that of a sonic boom. We could barely hear each other as I recounted the adventures of Hetta and Jan on our trip down the Baja, and the messes we got into.
“I knew you two were headed for trouble when you left with that dishy Mexican boat captain.”
“Fabio. Yep, he’s a looker, all right. A happily married looker, so no trouble there, darn it.”
“You talk a good game, but I don’t think Jenks has a thing to worry about with you. And now Jan has hooked up with Chino. You know,” he turned up his beer bottle, finished it off and signaled for another. “I think I will go to the Baja for a visit with them.” The Craig I know and love rarely drinks more than one beer, and he sure as hell doesn’t take off on trips on a whim, like I do. I fixed him with the evil eye. “Okay, that’s it. What happened?”
“Like I said, I had an epiphany. I want to change my life, and I’m starting with actual free time. I’ve worked my ass off ever since I started my business, and now it is time to smell the roses.”
“Oh, God, you’re not going to take off for Nepal to contemplate your navel, are you?”
That got a grin. “Nope, but I am doing a lot of thinking while I’m out on those walks and runs. Losing weight has to be for the right reason: me. If I do it just to attract a partner, I have failed myself.”
“Dang, that’s deep. You know, I set out to change my life a couple of years ago when I bought the boat, and in a way, of course, I have. But what started out as a manhunt ended up with a new life. I did meet Jenks, but only after I let go of some of my own demons. Jenks finds me refreshing, or so he says. I’m so glad I didn’t meet him a few years back. Don’t think he’d have found me refreshing at all. More like a ball breaking feminist hell-bent on self-destruct.”
“You did have a distinctive chip on your shoulder, and very bad taste in men.”
“You can talk. However, you’re right about my history, and you know what worries me the most?”
He shook his head.
“That if I lose Jenks I’ll revert to type.”
“No, I don’t think so, Hetta. You’ve mellowed.”
“Must be the age, because my bad habits still lurk, they just have to go to bed earlier.”
For some reason, probably the beer, Craig found this hilarious, and our laughter drew the company of one very good looking gay guy and a rugged cowboy, who bought me a beer. Tempted to stay awhile and flirt, we soon parted company with our admirers, lest those past devils messed with our good intentions.
On the drive home, snowflakes hit the windshield, which I thought was neat because I hadn’t seen snow in years.
While I was loading the coffee pot, Craig came into the kitchen for a glass of water.
“Thanks, Craig, for coming. I needed company and yours is just the ticket. I miss Jenks so much, and I’m terrified I’ll lose him if I keep screwing up.”
“So,”
Similar Books
