Country Mature

I was beginning to think I wasn’t very good at the business of collectables. Was it a matter of not knowing what was what? Or was I just not finding anything really good? I was going on three weeks now, and in truth, I felt rather stupid for having been so ambitious on the spur of the moment. There had been a run of those TV shows going on about how there were valuable collectables scattered all over the country in old barns and junkyards and how people were making great money reselling it to yuppies at some New York auction house. All you had to do was go find it.

So, I gathered up some gas money and headed off in my van…and found nothing. TV be damned, a lot of places I stopped at just sent me packin’ and the stuff I did get to look at was real junk. I mean real junk. Whatever this game was, I sucked at it, but I kept at it more out of stubbornness than anything else. Lately I had taking to sleeping in the van to save money and went farther and farther out from the bigger towns, hunting for that jackpot of rusty rareness.

I wasn’t exactly lost by then, I just didn’t know where I would end up.

I found myself headed down a long dirt driveway towards a nice yellow farmhouse in a large spread of various buildings and mixed trees. It was a nice out here, in this middle American country. Sunny, not too hot, and a huge blue sky with fat clouds just rolling along. I looked out my window at the fields of corn and wheat. Maybe I should be a farmer?

I didn’t see anyone at first when I stopped and I slid out of my van, mostly hoping there wasn’t some old hell hound running around somewhere that would see me as fresh meat. That would just beat all. I was still looking for dogs and walking towards the back door of the house, when someone called out to me.

“Can I help you?” a voice rang out practically in my ear. I about jumped out of my skin and turned to the sound of laughter. A woman had been leaning against the trunk of an oak tree this whole time and had watched me drive in. She stood in the shade not more than twenty feet away. She had on light blue jeans and knee boots, with a green checkered shirt tied across a white tank top. A wide straw hat hid some of her face and she had most of her hair tucked up under it. She had on dirty work gloves and stood up straight once I saw her, flicking her fingers clear of dirt as she waited for my reply.

“Well, aren’t you the jumpy one.”

“Sorry. Excuse me. I didn’t see you there.”

“Didn’t see me?” she said, sounding oddly peeved. I could quickly see that in her younger days, she must have been a real head turner, so perhaps she took my words as a slight. Off to a great start, pal!

“Actually, I was looking for the dog.” I rubbed the back of my head with one hand, looking uncertain.

“What the Hell is that supposed mean?”

Fuck me, can I pick em’, or what?

“Lady, please. It’s the truth. I just don’t want to get my arm tore off.”

She swatted her hands together and then laughed, her rough exterior falling away.

“I don’t have a dog.” she pushed her hat back with the back of one hand, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Lotsa cows though. I hear they bite worse than a dog.”

I smiled sheepishly. “Cows don’t bite.”

“So you’re smarter than the average city folk who come out here.” she teased.

“Well, speaking of which, I was hoping to talk to someone about some antiques and collectables.”

“Not interested.” she replied, hardly before I finished saying the words, and just waving a dirty glove in the air at me. “Been picked over more than once, and they all say the same thing.”

I deflated a little and then straightened up with a sigh, making to turn away.

“I see. Well, thanks anyway.” As I turned to my van, I could smell the heat and hear that hot ping sound of the engine. I took a deep breath and turned around to face her again. She hadn’t moved, just stood there leaning again on one arm against the tree, watching me.

“Is it ok if I sit here a while and let my van to cool down a bit?”

She was thoughtful for a moment. “All right. I suppose. If you need water, there’s a hose.” she motioned to a pump. “And it wouldn’t hurt to open the hood.”

“I’ll do that.” I smiled, relieved, and went back to the driver’s side long enough to to do just that. I put it up as she had said, and stepped back from the whole works, hands on my hips…and that was that. This lady, whose name I didn’t even know, had turned back around and went back to planting some flowers at the base of her tree. For an instant, it wasn’t lost on me that she sure had a nice shape from where I stood, even though she was twice my age, probably. Those jeans looked good on her.

I admired the wonderful taper of her denim covered butt and the sweet cleft between them, just at the bottom, right above her thighs. A mental picture of pressing my face into that spot and breathing in crossed my mind, but then I shook my head and stepped up to check the radiator cap. A second later, I whipped my hand back and checked to make sure it hadn’t just melted off.

“If you’re going to open the cap, use a rag.” The lady had turned and was looking at me over her shoulder.

“I don’t dare. Bad thermostat, I think.” I stammered. “It’ll blow antifreeze over the place.”

“You sure came prepared.” she replied, sitting up on her knees and untying a kerchief from around her neck. I felt even dumber than usual standing there. I rubbed my palm, still hot and stinging, as she got up and walked over to me.

I kept my eyes down. The last thing I needed was her catching me checking her out, and it was a sign of how dispirited I was to feel myself stir a little over this mature, sexy woman. She just had a look, that was all. Probably the country air. Or three weeks spent sleeping in the van. She handed me her kerchief and touched her nose with the back of one gloved hand.

“Leave it on for now. It’s just going to boil over.” she said.

I dabbed at my hand, disgusted and frustrated. She stepped up, pulled off her gloves, and took my hand for a moment, checking my red palm.

“That’s nothing.” she said with a smile. She must have warmed to me a little then, because she switched her grip and shook my hand next, firmly, looking up at me and squinting in the sunlight.

“Lynn.” she said.

“Jeff.” I smiled.

“No luck so far, huh, Jeff?” she asked. She let go of my hand, turning and tossing her gloves down near her garden tools, before putting both her own hands on her back to stretch, arching her back and pushing her ample breasts up and out. Her tank top showed some very nice cleavage this close up. I looked at my feet again.

“Not a bit.” I scuffed the toe of my shoe in the dirt, hooking my thumbs in the pockets of my jeans.

She tilted her hat back again, and more of her blond hair fell out from behind one ear. It was streaked with some gray, sure, but now that I saw her up close, she came across as even more attractive than I had thought at first. Like I thought before, she must have been someone who easily turned heads back in the day. She still could, to be honest. She was tall and glowing with health, with lines to her face that made her look beautifully mature, now that I had a closer look at her.

She shifted her hands back to her hips once she was done stretching, and looked me straight in the eye.

“You don’t seem like those other dummies. What’s the deal?”

I shrugged. “I’m a bust. I figured I would give it a shot with what money I had, but it’s like it’s all been picked over.”

“That it has.” she smiled humorlessly.