at Pete's Stinky
Dive.
I'm
all smiles until a fucker named Roddy makes a move for Meredith. I step in
front of him.
"Sit
down."
"You
sit down," Roddy mutters, his gaze on Meredith's long bare legs.
"I'm
going to shove a screwdriver down your throat if you don't sit down."
Roddy
thinks I'm kidding until he spots the screwdriver I pull from my pocket.
"You're nuts."
"Just
horny. Now go sit down."
Roddy
returns to his chair while I slide the screwdriver back into my pocket. I have
no intention of going to prison over a chick, but I don't mind throwing a few
punches if necessary.
"Oooh,"
Meredith coos when I step next to her and say her name. "I'm
Meredith."
"I
know," I chuckle, tapping the bar to get a fresh beer. "Don't you
remember me?"
Her
big blue eyes haven't changed much since we were teens. Bright and way too
expressive for her own good, they shine as she pats my face.
"I
do remember. You were the stripper at Zulma's bachelorette party." I laugh
as she feels me up and tugs at my blue tee. "Woody. I remember you."
"Woody,
huh?" I say, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Zulma took the plunge
into matrimony, but what about you?"
Meredith
sighs. "I married a schmuck."
Nearby,
Bethany laughs and drinks her soda.
Ignoring
her sister, Meredith whispers, "He left me for no one."
"Well,
isn't that better than cheating?" I ask, slowing her down as she chugs a
beer.
"He
would rather be alone than be with me. I'm not sure that's better. I mean, I'm
good in bed. I'm a giving lover," she says then laughs along with her
sister and Zulma.
"Who
cares?" I whisper in her ear. "The schmuck is gone. Fuck him."
Caressing
my face with both hands, Meredith gives me a naughty smile. I remember how
gentle she was in the woods. Even nervous, she touched me with care.
"I'm
looking for a rebound guy. I know you strip for lots of women and they all want
you, but I only need a rebound. You could be that guy."
"I
bet I could be a lot of things," I murmur, tugging her closer. "Wanna
dance?"
"Hey,
fucker," Bethany says, shoving us apart. "I remember you too."
Meredith
stands behind her sister, swaying to the music. After focusing on a clearly
sober Bethany who narrows her eyes at me, I glance at Zulma jumping around on
the dance floor.
"How
did you end up as the designated driver?" I ask Bethany. "I remember
you being a wannabe lush in high school."
"Shut
up, Jamie."
"It's
Winston now."
"Don't
care."
"Are
you going to tell me I can't dance with your sister?"
"No,
I'm cool with you dancing with her. Fucking her too. All fun shit, but if you
hurt her or give her a STD or God forbid post a porno of you two on the
Internet, I will kill you. This threat isn't some bullshit little girl hitting
you with her fists kind of crap. I'm a fucking pharmacist. I have access to drugs
to snuff you out in ways that the cops will never figure out."
"Still
protecting your big sister. I love that about you Gordon girls."
Bethany's angry face softens. "Meredith needs to party. You're hot, so have at it."
Stepping
out of my way, Bethany slaps her sister on the ass then walks toward her friend
on the dance floor. "I'll lead, Zulma."
While
the other women square dance, I take Meredith's hand and guide her to the dance
floor. Like another sign from above, Cherokee Fiddle begins to play.
I've always loved the song and my mom still hums it while she cooks dinner. Now
I have Meredith Gordon in my arms and my favorite song on the jukebox.
"You
really don't remember me," I say, swaying.
"You're
not Woody?"
"No,
baby, I'm not."
Meredith
stares hard into my eyes and I can't look away. Not when I see those puffy lips
puckered like she's waiting for a kiss. I haven't thought about those lips in
years, but the memories come back to me now. The way she gnaws on the bottom
one when nervous. I even remember how they felt on my skin.
Meredith
is the girl I never figured I'd have a shot with, but here we are again.
"Woody,"
she whispers. "Will you be my
Dive.
I'm
all smiles until a fucker named Roddy makes a move for Meredith. I step in
front of him.
"Sit
down."
"You
sit down," Roddy mutters, his gaze on Meredith's long bare legs.
"I'm
going to shove a screwdriver down your throat if you don't sit down."
Roddy
thinks I'm kidding until he spots the screwdriver I pull from my pocket.
"You're nuts."
"Just
horny. Now go sit down."
Roddy
returns to his chair while I slide the screwdriver back into my pocket. I have
no intention of going to prison over a chick, but I don't mind throwing a few
punches if necessary.
"Oooh,"
Meredith coos when I step next to her and say her name. "I'm
Meredith."
"I
know," I chuckle, tapping the bar to get a fresh beer. "Don't you
remember me?"
Her
big blue eyes haven't changed much since we were teens. Bright and way too
expressive for her own good, they shine as she pats my face.
"I
do remember. You were the stripper at Zulma's bachelorette party." I laugh
as she feels me up and tugs at my blue tee. "Woody. I remember you."
"Woody,
huh?" I say, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Zulma took the plunge
into matrimony, but what about you?"
Meredith
sighs. "I married a schmuck."
Nearby,
Bethany laughs and drinks her soda.
Ignoring
her sister, Meredith whispers, "He left me for no one."
"Well,
isn't that better than cheating?" I ask, slowing her down as she chugs a
beer.
"He
would rather be alone than be with me. I'm not sure that's better. I mean, I'm
good in bed. I'm a giving lover," she says then laughs along with her
sister and Zulma.
"Who
cares?" I whisper in her ear. "The schmuck is gone. Fuck him."
Caressing
my face with both hands, Meredith gives me a naughty smile. I remember how
gentle she was in the woods. Even nervous, she touched me with care.
"I'm
looking for a rebound guy. I know you strip for lots of women and they all want
you, but I only need a rebound. You could be that guy."
"I
bet I could be a lot of things," I murmur, tugging her closer. "Wanna
dance?"
"Hey,
fucker," Bethany says, shoving us apart. "I remember you too."
Meredith
stands behind her sister, swaying to the music. After focusing on a clearly
sober Bethany who narrows her eyes at me, I glance at Zulma jumping around on
the dance floor.
"How
did you end up as the designated driver?" I ask Bethany. "I remember
you being a wannabe lush in high school."
"Shut
up, Jamie."
"It's
Winston now."
"Don't
care."
"Are
you going to tell me I can't dance with your sister?"
"No,
I'm cool with you dancing with her. Fucking her too. All fun shit, but if you
hurt her or give her a STD or God forbid post a porno of you two on the
Internet, I will kill you. This threat isn't some bullshit little girl hitting
you with her fists kind of crap. I'm a fucking pharmacist. I have access to drugs
to snuff you out in ways that the cops will never figure out."
"Still
protecting your big sister. I love that about you Gordon girls."
Bethany's angry face softens. "Meredith needs to party. You're hot, so have at it."
Stepping
out of my way, Bethany slaps her sister on the ass then walks toward her friend
on the dance floor. "I'll lead, Zulma."
While
the other women square dance, I take Meredith's hand and guide her to the dance
floor. Like another sign from above, Cherokee Fiddle begins to play.
I've always loved the song and my mom still hums it while she cooks dinner. Now
I have Meredith Gordon in my arms and my favorite song on the jukebox.
"You
really don't remember me," I say, swaying.
"You're
not Woody?"
"No,
baby, I'm not."
Meredith
stares hard into my eyes and I can't look away. Not when I see those puffy lips
puckered like she's waiting for a kiss. I haven't thought about those lips in
years, but the memories come back to me now. The way she gnaws on the bottom
one when nervous. I even remember how they felt on my skin.
Meredith
is the girl I never figured I'd have a shot with, but here we are again.
"Woody,"
she whispers. "Will you be my
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