REBOUND_(2)

“There’s his Jeep.” Shelly steered her car into the parking space next to it. “Good. He’s working tonight.”

“Who is?”

“A guy who would be perfect for you.”

“What? You bitch! I’m not going in there.”

“Yes, you are, Kay.”

“No! I’m not ready to see men socially.”

“Socially? You and I met for sandwiches after work, went window shopping, and now we’re stopping for a drink. He’s the bartender.”

“Don’t play cute with me.”

“You frustrate me, Kay. Pull up your big girl panties, and check your hair in the visor mirror. You can’t just go to work and hide out in your apartment all the time.”

Kay gave her friend a withering look. “You don’t take relationships seriously like I do.”

“I haven’t found a guy I want to wake up next to every morning.”

“What Sid and I had was special. I thought you understood since you agreed to be maid of honor.”

“I understand YOU thought it was special. Obviously, Sid didn’t, or he wouldn’t have wanted to put his skinny dick in me. And don’t start. You know I told you right away.”

“Shelly, I said a hundred times I don’t have a problem with you. In fact, I’m glad it was you. Who knows if another girl would have said anything?”

“Exactly. I had your back then, and I do now. Let’s have a drink. I’m buying.”

The girls entered the softly lit cocktail lounge. The after-work crowd was gone, and most of the real drinkers hadn’t yet come in. Rock music played from somewhere. Shelly chose stools at the bar.

The man came to them drying his hands. They looked as masculine and strong as the rest of him. “Good evening. Do you ladies have ID?”

They pulled their drivers licenses from their wallets and handed them to him. He studied the images and handed the cards back to the girls. “I remember you, Shelly. Vodka gimlet again?”

“Ooh, you’re good,” she giggled.

“If I was good I’d have remembered your age,” he smiled. “What about you, Kay?”

“Black Russian.”

“Nice choice.” He turned to make their drinks.

“See?” Shelly whispered.

“See what? Yeah, he’s cute.”

“Cute? That’s it? He’s built like a brick shithouse, has a voice that should be doing phone sex, and you say he’s cute? You could use a real man after that creep Sid. My God, girl, this guy drives a vintage Jeep, not a bland grey Prius!”

“How do you know that’s his Jeep?”

He returned with their drinks, grinning. “She almost backed into it last week at the hiking and camping store.”

“Now, wait a minute, mister. I was at the nail salon next door. If you wouldn’t have been parked,….” Shelly began.

“In a properly marked space? We went through this. You missed my Jeep, so it was all good.” He smiled and turned to wait on new customers.

“Told you he was perfect,” Shelly giggled. “You should ask him out.”

“If he’s so perfect, why don’t you ask him out?”

“I’m not the outdoorsy type. You are.”

“Okay, so he’s hot and he goes to an outdoor shop. That’s all very nice, but he’s too old for me. He’s going grey.”

“Oh for pity’s sake! Grey, sun-bleached, whatever. Maybe twenty strands at his temples. Kay, honey, you’re twenty-three. Sid was half bald. How old was he? Fifty?”

“You know damn well he was thirty-one.”

“He looked like an old lecher, and he was boring. Finish your drink.”

“Why are we in a hurry?”

Shelly raised her hand. When the bartender nodded to her while serving another customer, she said, “We’re not in a hurry. I just wanted to get him over here again. Look at that ass.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

The bartender grinned his way over to them. “Ladies?”

“What do you want this time, Kay?” Shelly asked.

“Excuse me, girls,” he interrupted, “but who’s driving?”

“I am,” Shelly said. “Do you have Diet Coke?”

“Of course. You?” He turned to Kay.

“No, thank you.”

“She wants another Black Russian,” Shelly said. “She’s celebrating her freedom.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. I’ll have another. She’s paying.”

He smiled and turned away.

“You little bitch,” Kay complained.

“Moi?”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Shelly sighed. “You sit at home all the time now. I was cool with not hanging out every day when you were with Sid. He was your guy. You were getting married, looking at condos, and all that. You were like a kid waiting for Christmas, so I was happy for you, but I like being single.”

“Your point?”

“My point is you don’t enjoy being alone. You like having a man in your life.”

“Oh, suddenly you don’t like men?”

Shelly giggled. “I like having a man in my bed but I’m okay if he’s gone when I wake up. You’re different. You were never tempted by the fuck buddy thing, were you?”

“No!”

“Kay, honey. Come on. This isn’t the Victorian era. You’ve been with what? Three guys? Two in college and Sidney, right?

“Yes. So?”

“So, a loser frat boy who dumped you for a girl with fake boobs, a clingy gamer geek who missed his Mommy, and an aging cheater.”

“Dammit, Shelly! How many times are you going to recite my list?”

“Until it gets longer. You need to live. You’re young and sexy. You should be having fun, not sitting home watching ‘Friends’ re-runs.”

“Sex has to mean something to me.”

“Me too,” Shelly said.

“Really? I don’t fuck on the first date like you. I’m not a slut.” As soon as Kay said it, she knew the bartender heard.

He wore a completely neutral face as he served them. “That’s good,” he muttered to Kay.

When he was gone, Kay hissed, “Who do you want to give the eulogy at your funeral?”

Shelly couldn’t help laughing. “He said it was good. Personally, I have fun sometimes acting like a guy, which means going out and picking up someone to sleep with. You should try it.”

Kay shook her head. No point in trying to stop her friend when she was on a roll.

Before they finished their drinks, Shelly’s phone rang. She listened for a moment and said, “Wait. The music’s too loud. I’m gonna move.”

When Kay was alone, the bartender came over to clear their empty glasses from the first round. “Your friend is a piece of work.”

“You could say that.”

“A lady like you can relax in this bar. Lots of couples, young office crowd. I don’t let guys hit on girls too hard unless the girls act interested.”

“So you’re a gentleman.”

He smiled and twirled an imaginary handlebar mustache. “Gentleman Jim at your service, Miss Kay. Fair prices, clean privies, and stiff drinks. We don’t allow no pickpockets, card sharks, or working ladies of ill repute in this here establishment.” He tipped an imaginary hat.

“You do that very well, Jim.”

“Somewhere along the line I thought it would have been cool being an Old West saloonkeeper – as long as someone else emptied the spittoons.”

“You’ve been doing this for a while?”

“When I got out of college I knew grad school wasn’t for me. Bartending has been my temporary stop-gap job for the last seven years and will be at least until I publish my first novel. That will be my thirtieth birthday present to myself.”

“An author?”

“Authors get paid to write. At this point I type and pour drinks.” His face got serious. “What’s your new freedom?”

She stiffened.

“Wow. I just broke an unwritten rule, didn’t I?”

Kay studied her drink straw. “It’s not like I’m on parole or anything. I just ended a bad relationship.”

‘Glad it’s over if it was bad.”

“Seemed fine until the end,” she said to the surface of the bar.

“Been there, done that. Happy to be single.”

She looked up. “Are you, Jim? Happy?”

“Sure. Besides, nothing is permanent but death.”

“So I found out.”

“May I ask what happened?”

She sighed. “Why not? A month before we were supposed to get married Sidney tried to cheat on me.”

“What a jerk.”

“It probably would have been worse if he cheated after the wedding.”

“True. So you told him off?”

“I thought he’d try to lie. I had this whole big haughty speech ready in my head, but when he admitted it, I burst into tears and told him to leave.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why? You didn’t do anything.”

“No, but guys like him should be put in the town pillory. Oops. Duty calls.” He trotted off to tap a pitcher of beer for a quiet group of young men.

Shelly returned to her seat. “Well?

“Well, what?”

“Did he ask you out?”

“No.”

“Did you ask him out?”

“No!”

Shelly groaned. “You’re hopeless. You know that wasn’t my regular ringtone, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“He looked at you a couple times. I pretended to get a call so you two could talk.”

“Seriously, what is wrong with you?”

“You need to get laid, Kay. You’d feel a lot better about yourself.”

“Just for that, you can pay for the drinks AND leave a big tip. I’m going to the ladies room. When I’m done, we’re leaving.” She stalked away.

In the car on the way home, Kay sat with her hands in her lap, looking out the side window.

“You’re angry, aren’t you?” Shelly asked.

“Amazing powers of observation.”

“I’m your best friend, Kay.”

“Thanks for reminding me. Sometimes I forget.”

“You need to get a life again, girl.”

“I’m breathing. I function. I have a life.”

“You need friends.”

“Oh? Thought you said you were my friend.”

Shelly stopped at the curb in front of Kay’s apartment. “I meant male friends. Jim seems like a really nice guy.”

“Maybe he is. Good night.” Kay got out of the car, walked to her door, and when she was safely inside blinked the porch light to let Shelly know it was okay to drive away.

The next morning there was a text message on Kay’s phone:

“shelly gave me ur number can we talk – jim”

“You little bitch, Shelly,” she grumbled. She tossed the phone on the bed and got ready for her shower.

Her phone rang at the laundromat. “Shelly! Well, well, well. How very nice of you to call. You do realize I’m going to smack the shit out of you, don’t you?”

“What did I do now?”

“You gave the bartender my number!”

“Obviously, you weren’t going to do it.”

“No, I wasn’t! Dammit, why do I hang out with you?”

“Because you know I’m the one person in the world who will always love you. I’m here for you no matter what.”

“If you love me so much, why are you trying to mess with my sex life?”

“You don’t have a sex life! That’s part of your problem!”

“Just because I don’t have one right now doesn’t mean I have a problem!”

After an awkward silence Shelly said, “Jim called you?”

“He sent me a text.”

“It’s a start.”

“I’m not like you, Shelly! I don’t screw bartenders!”

“You eat lunch, don’t you? Try that, and see where it goes.”

Kay stuffed her phone in her pocket and finished folding towels.

She was putting the last of her clean clothes away at home when she got another text:

“3 messages are creepy so ill stop now wud u like to chat – jim”

“Humph,” she muttered.

After dinner that night she picked up her phone to make a call to her parents and saw Jim’s last text. “You’re right. Stopping at two texts is just enough to not be a creepy stalker.” She made her call and tried to put him out of her mind.

Sunday morning dawned fresh and clear, a perfect early summer day. Kay took her coffee mug onto her miniature balcony so the breeze could help dry her curly blond hair. Good day for a hike. She ate a light breakfast and dressed in a sports bra, practical panties, tee, and shorts and padded around her tiny place packing a few essentials into a day pack. High socks, favorite walking boots, hair in an unruly ponytail through a baseball cap, and she was off.

She was about a mile along the trail in the river hills when she heard someone approaching from behind. The parking lot below had been deserted. She turned and saw a man running toward her.

“Hey!” he called.

“Jim? What are you doing here?”

“Running,” he puffed as he flew past. He disappeared around a bend in the trail.

She caught up to him a half hour later, sitting on a rock in the shade. “Hello again.”

He raised a half-empty water bottle in salute. “Surprised to see you here.”

“Are you? Shelly didn’t put you up to this?”

“Shelly?”

“My so-called friend who gave you my number.”

“Oh, brunette, vodka gimlet. No, I use this trail a lot if the weather’s nice. It’s two miles from the parking lot to here. I run, die on this rock for a while, and walk back down. I’m not following you. When you didn’t text me back I got the hint.”

She sat on a rock nearby and opened her own bottle of water from her day pack.

He chuckled. “Okay. Forgive the corny line. Do you come here often?”

“A bartender can do better than that.”

He wiped the last of the sweat from his brow. “If I had a dollar for every cheesy pick-up line I’ve heard guys try, I could own these hills.”

She grinned. “To answer your question, no, I normally walk in the park or on the path near the river, but it’s too warm to be in town.”

“That’s why I like this trail. It feels ten degrees cooler in the hills. I’d build a cabin up here if I could. Just sit on the porch and write.”

“Why do you tend bar in a downtown cocktail lounge?”

“Not many customers in the woods,” he chuckled. “I live in town. I walk to work if the weather’s decent. When I have enough time off I go camping or hiking. It’s enough for now. When my book starts paying me real money, I might look for a place in the country.”

“You’re serious about this writing thing.”

“More serious than some of the publishers who’ve read parts of my manuscript, apparently. That’s why I’ll be mixing drinks this week, Tuesday through Saturday, like always.”

“I wouldn’t have the patience to write a book,” she said.

“Patience is easy when you enjoy what pays the bills. I like my job. Don’t want to do it the rest of my life, but it’s fun. I meet nice people.”

“You meet girls.”

“I’ve had girlfriends who hung out while I was working, but I don’t pick up girls at the bar.”

“Why did you send me those texts?”

“Ha! Busted! First time for everything. Shelly told me a little bit about that Sid character. Said you’ve been sitting home moping ever since.”

Her voice was cold. “Do you blame me?”

“Not at all. She told me to ask you out, but that seemed too forward.”

“I don’t want a rebound fuck, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“I wasn’t offering one.”

“Oh.”

“What I was offering was coffee. There’s a great shop not far from the bar.”

“Well, now I’m embarrassed,” Kay mumbled.

He climbed off his rock, huge smile on his face, and stood in front of her. “Let’s try this again. Hi. I’m Jim Preston, bartender and would-be novelist. I’m out here sweating, not expecting to see a soul. Who are you?”

“Kay Mueller. Assistant to the Assistant to the Junior Vice President of Useless Meetings. I type stupid emails while the big-wigs talk about golf or whatever.”

“Sounds rewarding.”

“Very. Sid kinda screwed that up for me, too. I was offered a better job in another division, but I couldn’t move away since we were getting married.”

“That stinks,” Jim said.

“It’s okay, really. I didn’t want to move. My family and friends are here.”

“I don’t see you with a friend like Shelly. She’s more of a party girl than you, isn’t she?”

“We were roommates freshman year in college. Random pairing, but we clicked. I was her conscience and study buddy. She taught me how to drink.”

“You’ve been friends ever since?”

“We’re very close. She was supposed to be my maid of honor. Now she thinks she has to find me another guy.”

“You’ll find one when you’re ready. Your license said you’re twenty-three. You’re pretty, and you have a job that I assume pays the bills. Live for today, and prepare for tomorrow. There’s no big rush, is there?”

“The plan was I’d be married at twenty-three and pregnant at twenty-five. We had it all mapped out. We were going to take a cruise for our second anniversary and try to start a family in a romantic stateroom on the high seas.”

“Sounds nice, but apparently Sid wasn’t the right guy.”

“He was the one who pushed the relationship along. Things moved fast with him. He swept me off my feet. We got serious, he proposed, and I thought I had died and gone to heaven. He was everything I wanted.”

“Except faithful.”

“Yeah.”

Jim walked out into the sun and studied the sky. “How much farther did you plan to walk?”

“Don’t know. Why?”

“It’s going to rain, probably in less than two hours.”

She joined him and looked at the clouds herself. “I wonder if it’ll wait that long. Guess I should head back.”

“May I come along? No funny stuff,” he said.

“I guess.”

They walked back to the area where he passed her on the way up the hill.

“Um, Jim, I’m going to venture off the trail for a moment.”

“Why?”

She blushed. “I shouldn’t have had a second mug of coffee before I came out here today.”

“Oh,” he laughed. “I’ll stand guard.”

She picked her way down a slope through the underbrush until the top of his head disappeared, then looked for a likely spot on the steep, loamy ground. She found a tree to brace her back against and pulled down her shorts and panties. Bits of dead wood provided some footing and balance in the loose soil. When she felt secure, she forced herself to go in hopes of not dripping. Successful, she started to get up. The downed branch she had propped one foot against was too rotted to hold her.

Jim heard her falling before she screamed. He tore through the woods and found her, old leaves in her hair, panties caught on one boot, bare ass in the air, struggling in the underbrush.

“Turn around,” she squealed.

He did, giving her privacy to put herself back together.

“That didn’t go well,” she huffed as she pushed past him toward the trail.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m not bleeding.”

“Good, but,….”

“Am I okay that you saw my bottom?