“Something with legs.”
Talley shrugs. “Probably a gecko. Or a salamander.”
I bite my lip. Obviously the woman doesn’t mind having small reptiles running around her house. I decide to watch my step. Frankly, I’m surprised Talley would have all this water around her in a climate so humid and I tell her so.
“Hey, I’m from Louisiana,” she says. “Near Lake Pontchartrain. This ain’t nothin’, girl.” She looks at me. “Would you like something to drink?”
I follow Talley into her kitchen and sit at the island bar as she gets out the glasses. Her windowpane cabinets display all of her plateware, most of which are painted in bright, primary colors and geometric designs.
“I’ll make us some adult lemonade.”
She pours two tall glasses of lemonade and splashes in a shot or two of whiskey. Me and her are gonna get along just fine.
She cuts a few sprigs of mint from the window box before joining me with a plate of sugar cookies.
“Tell me something, Eva.”
“What?”
“How did Jared really get you to come here with him?” She starts to laugh a deep chortle, the type that surrounds a joke told in bad taste. “He said it was for sex.”
I bite my cookie and look away.
“Wait a minute . . . it’s true?”
“So what if it is?”
She smiles and pats my hand. “No offense meant, girl. Jared can charm the sap from the trees. It’s just that . . . never mind.”
“No, tell me.”
She sips her lemonade. “You’re really smitten by him, aren’t you?”
She’s evading my question but I let her. “To tell you the truth, Talley, I don’t know what I’m doing. Here I am in Texas, with no clothes, no money, as the last-minute traveling companion for a man I just met.” I turn in my barstool to face her. “This is our first date!”
My saying this out loud makes me freeze. When I woke up the day before, if someone told me I’d be going to bed somewhere in Texas that evening, I would’ve made them take a sobriety test. But Jared has rekindled a spirit in me that I haven’t felt since grade school. He makes me feel mischievous. Unpredictable. Naughty.
“Well, Eva, for your next date, may I suggest Cancun?”
I laugh. Ex-girlfriend or not, Talley reminds me of Ana with her attitude.
“Get your skates on, girl. You’re not gonna be in our fair city long before you leave for the frozen tundra of the North.” She takes my plate away. “Let’s get you out and about. Show you a few stompin’ grounds.”
I hurry and finish my lemonade, forgetting about the alcohol until I stand and get a head-rush. I don’t drink whiskey too often. Talley puts our dishes in the sink and then, linking arms, we head out of the kitchen.
* * * *
We ride in Talley’s white 1970 Chevy Impala convertible with the top down. “This is one cherry I still have!” she laughs, with that short bark of hers: the kind that only a man or a woman of her stature can pull off. Seems both she and Jared have a love for classic muscle cars. I’ve never ridden in a convertible, but since meeting Jared, I’ve done many things I haven’t done before.
I feel chic against the snowy interior with my eyes covered by opaque sunglasses and the wind whipping my hair about like a black cloud. The car’s smooth suspension and Talley’s breakneck driving create a lulling effect on me. She drives me around their old neighborhood in Oak Cliff and by their old high school.
“This is where we met,” she says as we
Talley shrugs. “Probably a gecko. Or a salamander.”
I bite my lip. Obviously the woman doesn’t mind having small reptiles running around her house. I decide to watch my step. Frankly, I’m surprised Talley would have all this water around her in a climate so humid and I tell her so.
“Hey, I’m from Louisiana,” she says. “Near Lake Pontchartrain. This ain’t nothin’, girl.” She looks at me. “Would you like something to drink?”
I follow Talley into her kitchen and sit at the island bar as she gets out the glasses. Her windowpane cabinets display all of her plateware, most of which are painted in bright, primary colors and geometric designs.
“I’ll make us some adult lemonade.”
She pours two tall glasses of lemonade and splashes in a shot or two of whiskey. Me and her are gonna get along just fine.
She cuts a few sprigs of mint from the window box before joining me with a plate of sugar cookies.
“Tell me something, Eva.”
“What?”
“How did Jared really get you to come here with him?” She starts to laugh a deep chortle, the type that surrounds a joke told in bad taste. “He said it was for sex.”
I bite my cookie and look away.
“Wait a minute . . . it’s true?”
“So what if it is?”
She smiles and pats my hand. “No offense meant, girl. Jared can charm the sap from the trees. It’s just that . . . never mind.”
“No, tell me.”
She sips her lemonade. “You’re really smitten by him, aren’t you?”
She’s evading my question but I let her. “To tell you the truth, Talley, I don’t know what I’m doing. Here I am in Texas, with no clothes, no money, as the last-minute traveling companion for a man I just met.” I turn in my barstool to face her. “This is our first date!”
My saying this out loud makes me freeze. When I woke up the day before, if someone told me I’d be going to bed somewhere in Texas that evening, I would’ve made them take a sobriety test. But Jared has rekindled a spirit in me that I haven’t felt since grade school. He makes me feel mischievous. Unpredictable. Naughty.
“Well, Eva, for your next date, may I suggest Cancun?”
I laugh. Ex-girlfriend or not, Talley reminds me of Ana with her attitude.
“Get your skates on, girl. You’re not gonna be in our fair city long before you leave for the frozen tundra of the North.” She takes my plate away. “Let’s get you out and about. Show you a few stompin’ grounds.”
I hurry and finish my lemonade, forgetting about the alcohol until I stand and get a head-rush. I don’t drink whiskey too often. Talley puts our dishes in the sink and then, linking arms, we head out of the kitchen.
* * * *
We ride in Talley’s white 1970 Chevy Impala convertible with the top down. “This is one cherry I still have!” she laughs, with that short bark of hers: the kind that only a man or a woman of her stature can pull off. Seems both she and Jared have a love for classic muscle cars. I’ve never ridden in a convertible, but since meeting Jared, I’ve done many things I haven’t done before.
I feel chic against the snowy interior with my eyes covered by opaque sunglasses and the wind whipping my hair about like a black cloud. The car’s smooth suspension and Talley’s breakneck driving create a lulling effect on me. She drives me around their old neighborhood in Oak Cliff and by their old high school.
“This is where we met,” she says as we
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