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Me:(10:44) (loves last text)
?
Rainpoured in heavy sheets across a blacktop. A streetlamp around the bend in the road provided subtle light as low fog choked the street. Occasional floods of high beams would spotlight the road, followed by a rapid reduction in speed after seeing the cruiser. I took a mental note on how many Bennett had let go; five, so far. The steady rain pounded against the roof of the cruiser. Temperatures outside had dropped to the mid-forties and Bennett turned both the heat and the seat-warmers on for us. An insulated mug sat in the cup holder for him, a bottle of water for me. He had moved his computer out of the way to give me room.
Only the glow from the instrument panel lit our faces. I was reminded of the moment Bennett and I had connected in the back of that convertible fourteen years ago. How the dying twilight cast him into shadow, save for the electric green glare of the instrument panel from the front seat. The way he looked at me. Telling me how he felt with just his eyes. The lyrics he whispered only for me, a secret from our friends in the front.
The wipers cut through the water buildup on the windshield, refreshing our view of the road. We had been sitting there for forty minutes, our conversation light and on the outskirts of anything serious. I was okay with that. His entire demeanor had changed overnight since the kitchen incident. Was it the sudden confession of his shyness that broke the seal? Or the hurdle he must have jumped through to invite me to the gym? I considered his endorphins from the cardio as a catalyst for his attitude while we worked out. Maybe a combination of those had created a safe lane for us to hold plain vanilla dialogues. Calm on the surface while we paddled like mad underneath.
Before he picked me up at the house, I had decided that I would let him steer the conversation to anything more. This wasn’t a date, merely two old acquaintances reconnecting. I wore a nice pair of jeans, sneakers, and a black sweater that I bought earlier in the day when shopping for things to help with a longer stay. Springtime in New England was a fickle beast, and I bought everything from thick cardigans to pairs of shorts.
“Here comes another one,” Bennett said as headlights came speeding around the corner. The second they passed over the reflective “Concord PD” decals on the cruiser, the hood of the car noticeably dipped as the driver slammed the brakes. Bennett reached toward a toggle on his dash and flicked it twice. The road brightened with flashing blues. A quick warning and nothing more.Slow down, idiot.
“Honestly, I hate getting out when it’s raining,” Bennett told me.
Ah-huh. The rain. Sure.“I don’t blame you. It’s freezing, too.”
“Are you warm enough? I can turn the heat up?”
I waved off the offer. “Southern California didn’t soften methatmuch.”
“Kinda funny how the check-in girl at the gym recognized you. Do you get that a lot?”
I vacillated my head. “Depends. Two years ago? Sure, all the time. These days? Downtown LA is well aware of what Winnie accused me of, even if she was lying. No one says anything anymore.” I had my head pressed against the back of the seat and rolled it to look at Bennett. “If I’m being honest? It was nice being recognized yesterday.”
“Yeah. Your name went through the rumor mill out here. Even my dad’s poker buddies heard about it.” Bennett shifted in his seat to look at me. “Told me he defended you. He said to them, ‘That Connor knows my boy and anyone who is friends with my son is an okay fella.’” He chortled lightly through his nose.
“Good ol’ Walt,” I said. “What a great guy. You’re lucky to have him as a father, you know.”
“I know. I tell myself that every day. Ever since we left Virginia.”
I felt this topic was safe territory to push, so I turned a bit in my seat to gain comfort and look at him. “Do you ever talk to her? Your mom?”
Bennett’s left hand went to the wheel as if we were about to take off. His fingers curled around the leather and gripped. I heard it crunch. “Every Christmas. Every birthday. I answer. I listen. I hang up.”
The windshield wipers moved. Swooshed and swashed, the view refreshed for only a second.
“Feels weird,” Bennett said and made a pained expression. “Talking about her like this. When, you know, your mom…”
Another wave of dismissal. “Oh, don’t worry. I haven’t fully accepted what’s happened yet. Hasn’treallyhit me. When it does though, boy oh boy, I’m gonna need a big shoulder to cry on. And I mean big. Like say, someone that can shoulder press one-thirty-five on the machine, you know?”
He smiled. Laughed. Dropped his head and looked at his lap.
God, I wanted to reach over and kiss him. Take his face in my hands. Run my thumb along those shapely lips.
“You mean not some scrawny Hollywood attempt at one-oh—” he cut his words off as another car came around the corner. He sat up as his eyes targeted the car, the streetlamp giving just enough light to see the make and model. This one wasn’t speeding, though. “There it is again.”
“There’s what?” A black SUV passed. “Jersey plates. Was that a rental? The elusiverentalspeeder?”
The joke didn’t land with Bennett. He kept his eyes on the now empty road. “I’ve been seeing that car a lot lately. Sometimes at two in the morning. Only in the past three days, though. Blacked-out windows that are definitely not to code. I’ve been considering pulling him over to give him a citation for it.” He rubbed at his chin.
“Secret admirer,” I said. “I’m jealous.”
He rolled his eyes and snorted, then fidgeted with something on his phone. He plugged the device into a charger, toggled through the radio dials, and soon had music connected.
The Corcovado song came on.
“I listen to this nonstop now. It’s so beautiful,” he said.
