Between Heat and Water
A Short Story
I spent the morning outside, caring for our parched elephant ear plants. I saw crows playing in the fountain. They splashed around, their caws filling the air as they enjoyed their bath. It felt like they were mocking my battle with the sun. To my left, I spotted Lauren through the glass door to the back porch. She twirled in the green silk lace dress I bought her for our first anniversary five years ago. Her playful dancing celebrated the cool air in the house. It made the moment feel alive, as if the whole world were witnessing what I was watching. From the yard, her expression looked triumphant. I admired how sacred the dress had become to her. It hung in our closet like a gilded bronze chandelier, and it came out only on sunny days. Lauren felt it came from John Galliano himself. I would prefer to endure the heat rather than look away from how well the dress still fits her. It hugged her body the way stars cling to the night sky. Even from a distance, the elegant shape of her body was enough to forget the summer heat. Stepping into the shade of the porch, I felt grateful. Her beauty felt as vast as the universe, making the heat reflecting off the yard seem distant. She was the one holding up the pink bricks of our house. Her presence made those walls feel like a sanctuary. I worked hard to keep this piece of heaven on earth.
Lauren opened the glass door and stepped onto the porch. Bhalu, our handsome brown-spotted pitbull, followed her out. “Jean, it’d be a waste if we didn’t enjoy the sun and visit the spring!” I wiped the sweat from my brow, wishing I could skip the drive and rest against her. I gave her my best puppy-dog eyes. “You want to go swimming? I love seeing you in this dress. I was hoping we could relax since I had finished the yard work, as promised.” Lauren replied with a bright, playful tone, “Well, how about I wear it there and give you something to admire?” I hurried toward the bathroom, passing the picnic basket by the door. The red-and-white plaid ribbon reminded me of our plans. I knew my quiet afternoon would have to wait, but I hoped to clean the dirt from behind my ears first. A quick shower sounded perfect to wash away the sweat and grime from a long working morning. I paused at the bathroom mirror before stepping into the water. I wiped away a few smudges to see my reflection better. I couldn’t help but think the sweat was making my coffee skin resemble a melting Hershey bar. From the kitchen, Lauren’s voice rang out with a playful tone, “There is no time for a shower! Throw your clothes on, and let’s go.” I heard her clearly over the rattle of drawers, but I turned on the faucet anyway. Ignoring her protest, I jumped in for a quick rinse. Lauren peered through the crack of the bathroom door with a focused, flushed face. I rushed to get ready to impress the only woman who could ever enchant me.
I grabbed my white linen shirt, navy blue pants, and tan flip-flops. Choosing something simple ensured the dress remained the centerpiece. To me, the flushed face showed Lauren’s excitement. It matched the light mood we’d had since last night. My mind kept replaying her figure captured by our bedsheets in a Matisse-like style. While Lauren urged us to get a move on it, “It’s always a challenge to find a nice sunny spot before the springs get too busy. It’s Saturday, and as usual, we should expect a crowd.” Neither her eagerness nor my distractions would make me forget to grab my pipe tobacco and red Italian wine from the dining table.
I often dreaded leaving home. There, I felt happiest with my pup, my books, and my pipe in hand. Riding in a coral-red Ford Ranger through lush grassy fields and tall trees made the trip a joy. The truck’s bright color popped against the green trees, making the trip even more scenic. The open road and fresh air added to the experience, making it memorable. It softened my dislike for the long drive. “You know my rules, L. Windows have to be down.” The engine growled, and we charged towards the ranges. Lauren leaned her head on my shoulder to protect her bangs from the wind. The black dye in her hair always looked natural. I almost forgot she was a true brunette. I let my woolly hair swing wherever the wind wanted to take it. Hand-in-hand, Lauren began to tell me where her mind was wandering. “I love living in Texas because dying in LA would piss me off.” I let out a burst of spit and laughter and then joined in. “Even being in my linens feels magical in the South.” Lauren lifted her head, looking towards the open ranges. I could already see the sun reddening her fair skin. She went deeper into her mind with something that I thought was straight out of a Ralph Waldo Emerson book. “Jean, do you ever think about the stars, birds, the flowers, and the fish? All this is life, and I’m so curious about how it works.” The many complexities overwhelmed me. I found a simple response to counter the weight of her heavy thoughts. “Life is an extraordinarily wide and profound concept; it represents a great mystery, a vast realm in which we function as human beings.” She nodded as if she understood our love was eternal and would never cease to exist in any dimension.
After thirty minutes had flown by, we finally arrived. The water level had risen significantly. Overnight rain turned our clear springs a muddy brown. It hid the vibrant colors we expected to see. We chose a dappled spot under a tree near a family of dawdling ducks. I splashed water on my linens to cool off while we waded carefully to the spring’s edge. Lauren pleaded with me to lay the towels down and set out the snacks. As she coated herself in sunscreen, I watched in amazement as her skin began to glow. Even in the heat, I would still turn down Rembrandt’s invitation to meet Bathsheba and hear her side. I’d rather stay in my stale beach pose, studying Lauren. The sun warms me like a lazy afternoon as I drift back to last night’s memories. I took Lauren downtown to a sushi restaurant called “Axiom.” We cackled together over glasses of sake, reveling in the warmth of the evening. We thought about escaping to Tuscany for the New Year.
“Jean, how would your mother feel if we paid her a visit for New Year’s?”
“I -”
The waitress entered our moment. “Here are the shaggy dog rolls and edamame you guys ordered. Anything else you need from me?”
“No, not right now, thank you!” Lauren responded.
The waitress paused to compliment Lauren before turning to walk away.
“I love your pixie cut. It is actually gorg!”
“Aw, that is sweet. Thank you so much!”
She looked back at me and said, “Your hair is going to get into your beer, Jean. Put it behind your ears.”
“Where was I again? Oh, yeah, to be honest, my mom will be glad to see us, but I am the nervous one. I haven’t even moved the typewriter back into our room ever since you had lain next to that stranger in our bed. Everyone has a private tragedy, and I don’t know if I’m ready to display mine in front of my mother.”
Slowing her chewing, Lauren asked, “How can I get this out of your mind?”
Gripping my hands underneath the wooden table out of spite, I told her to “Let my mind dwell, let the sorrow pour, and enjoy your dinner.”
Regardless of how close I came to spoiling dinner, I still planned for us to go to the pool hall down the street. The quarters jingled in my pocket throughout dinner as I tottered back and forth in my chair.
“You think you could jingle any louder, Santa?”
I returned her smile, and we headed for the exit, drawn together like magnets. With the rain showing no signs of stopping, it was time to settle in for the night. We had no choice but to head home before the flooding got worse. I leaned in for a kiss before I opened her door. She refused to let my scarf go, bunching the fabric into a wrinkled ball. Lauren’s scarlet-shaded lips made the scene even more dramatic. We climbed into the truck, soaking, and floating on the words of Bob Dylan:
“Well, if I die on top of the hill.”
“And if I don’t make it,”
“You know my baby will.”
“Don’t the moon look good, Mama?”
“Shinin’ through the trees?”
We stumbled through the double doors, gripping each other. In our haste to extract each other’s nectar, I bumped into the coffee table and knocked over a bottle of brandy. Finally making it to the bed, I removed Lauren’s jeans. Consumed by desire, I left her shirt and bra on. I glanced into the sculpted lines nestled between her thighs. I explored her sweetness, leaving me with a sense of divine grace when I finally woke the next morning.