by Advocate
"She’s too old for you by ten years." RJ smirked. "Though your lack of facial hair would probably work in your favor."
Tony scowled and self-consciously rubbed his baby-smooth cheeks. "Some women appreciate a clean-shaved face," he muttered defensively.
"Assuming you actually need to shave."
"I shave!" Okay, once a month. But that counts!
Not believing Tony’s protest for a second, RJ continued by saying, "Three: there’s no need for you to be so … so … vivid with your language. Especially about something that is none of your business."
Tony looked to his sneakers and then to RJ, giving her his best puppy dog face. "I’m sorry."
RJ lifted an eyebrow at the teen.
"Okay, I’m sort of sorry."
"Better."
"I didn’t mean to upset you, RJ." He stuffed his cigarette in the truck’s ashtray, searching for the words it would take to get himself out of hot water. "It’s just that you’re so laid back, it didn’t seem serious between you and –" He paused. He was beginning to stumble over the words and feel stupid, which he hated. "I’m sorry."
RJ exhaled slowly. "Look, lad, we can talk about anything. But you need to show a little respect, especially when it comes to Ms. Matthews." She reached out and massaged the spot on the back of his head where she’d smacked him. "Lucky for me you finally decided to wash that hair. Or my hand would be slipping right off your head."
"Ha. Ha. Very funny." He crossed his arms over his chest but couldn’t help crack a smile. RJ was pretty cool.
"Just watch what you say from now on."
"Yes, ma’am." The last word was an effort, but not as much as he thought it would be.
"Now in answer to your original question. The diner is sort of … well…" She scratched her chin. Even after all these years she could never really came up with a good answer to this question. "It’s a place that exists between the two realms of life and life after life. Think of it as a spiritual bus station. Only with onion rings." She chuckled at her own joke, vowing to use that again with the next person who asked her. "It was your last stop. For the living folks, well, their journey goes on. It’s where the living and dead mingle without the living knowing it, but they both enjoy a good cup of coffee."
"Or a little more." Tony grinned wickedly.
She raised a hand in warning, and Tony playfully ducked out of the way.
"So is Glory heaven?" His face went serious as he mumbled, "No way in hell I’d end up in heaven."
RJ let out a heartfelt sigh. "Not in the way you’re thinking of it, no. It’s another stage of existence. You might say we’re ‘ghosts.’ But as you know, our bodies are still real, even if things don’t quite work the same. A moth turns into a butterfly, but it will still go splat against your windshield when you hit it."
"Huh?"
For emphasis she reached over and pinched Tony on the thigh, earning a loud yelp.
He rubbed his leg. "I see what you mean." Tony thought for moment. "So I can die again?" He shivered a little at the last thoughts of his lifetime: paramedics shoving tubes down his throat, needles poking his arms, a burning sensation traveling through his veins.
"No. You won’t age physically and if you get hurt," RJ steered around a large pothole, "you’ll feel something very similar to pain, but your body will heal and you’ll go on."
"Like a fuckin’ superhero!"
"Hardly," she laughed. "Something else that’s important, Tony, is to understand that just because you’ve left one stage of existence and moved into another doesn’t mean you’re not real. You are. You’re just different than you were before." RJ’s smile grew broader. "Why, some of those children running around Glory didn’t die young. They were born right here to parents who had come here from the living."
Tony’s eyes widened. "Oh, man! Condoms here too?"
RJ snorted. Is he ever going to be surprised! "There are more possibilities in Glory than you’ve even imagined."
They were silent for several moments, the cool breeze blowing gently against their faces as they drove along.
"You do know the stuff I did when I was alive," the young man asked hesitantly, still unable to get leave behind the concept of heaven and hell that had been drilled into his head as a small child.
RJ nodded. "I know. But Glory isn’t about punishment or reward anymorethan the moth is being punished or rewarded by turning into a butterfly."
Tony still looked confused, and she cursed herself for repeating a lame analogy that didn’t work the first time. She sighed, wondering when this got so difficult to explain. "Glory just ‘is.’" One of RJ’s hands dropped from the steering wheel and she motioned out in front her. "There are no flying angels, with white wings and harps. Things aren’t perfect and it sure as hell isn’t utopia." Her tone softened. "But Glory is a very good place, Tony. And how content you are in your afterlife is going to be up to you." There. That sounded easy, didn’t it?
"But you’re happy here, right?"
RJ blinked. No one had ever asked her that so directly before, though in fairness Pete had been hinting around it for the last forty years or so. She found herself unwilling to examine the question too closely and roughly pushed it from her mind.
When the silence in the truck grew, Tony made a face, causing RJ to roll her eyes. "Don’t worry so much. You have all the time in the world to figure things out."
Tony clapped his hands together eagerly. "An eternity at the diner picking up chicks just like you doesn’t seem so bad to me."
"Behave yourself or you’ll be chopping the wood today instead of fixing up that kiln we’ve got back there." RJ gestured over her shoulder to the crate in the back of the pickup.
"Cool!" But Tony’s excitement disappeared as almost as quickly as it came. "Um … RJ, I might not have mentioned this. But just because I like making things with clay doesn’t mean I’m any good at it."
RJ couldn’t help but laugh at the boy’s woebegone expression. "Tony, I wouldn’t be worrying if I were you. You’ve got a really long time to practice.
* * *
Leigh pushed open the door to the diner. It had been nearly a week since she’d been by on her last route. One more delivery on each end and she was due her week break. She couldn’t wait. Weary blue eyes flicked around the diner, looking for RJ.
"She’s not here yet," Mavis said from behind the counter, not looking up from the silverware she was sorting and placing in trays.
"Oh." Leigh tried not sound disappointed. "I wasn’t –" She suddenly closed her mouth. Leigh couldn’t even make it believable to herself. She wasn’t even going to try to lie to Mavis. She coughed awkwardly, then rolled her tongue over her teeth as she walked to the counter.
The waitress looked up after she put away the last of the spoons. "Have a seat." She lifted a carafe in Leigh’s direction. "Coffee?"
Leigh slid onto the stool and nodded. "Sure." She plucked a sugar packet from a bowl on the table and restlessly picked at the paper. "Do umm … do you know if she’s going to stop in today?"
Mavis smothered a grin. "Soon, I expect. You’re here a little early today." She turned over a coffee cup, which was waiting upside down, and poured in the fresh brew, placing a clean spoon next to it.
Leigh nodded again. "Got in last night late and slept in the truck."
"You look tired."
Leigh frowned. She knew she did. Most folks, however, never said anything about it. Even Rooster and her other trucker friends seemed to overlook what had become nearly permanent shadows under her eyes. "I know," she admitted quietly.
Mavis leaned forward, her elbows on the countertop. "You’ve got some time off coming up, right?"
"One more week and I’ll get a week off." I can’t wait.
"What are your plans?" Mavis asked nonchalantly, absently straightening the salt and pepper shakers.
Leigh shrugged. "Sleep. Sleep. Fun. And no driving."
"Alone?"
Leigh’s eyebrows jumpe
d. "Contrary to the evil reputation I have with some folks, Mavis, I do usually sleep alone."
Mavis tsked Leigh. "That’s not what I meant. Did you know that RJ has a little time off coming up?"
"No," Leigh drew out the word.
"She doesn’t get out too much. And I happen to know she’s got a … friend in Seattle she’d love to meet. That’s where you live, right?"
"Sort of." Leigh looked at Mavis knowingly. "Are you suggesting that I should invite RJ to come with me on my week off?" Like I haven’t already thought of doing that very thing.
"Of course not. You don’t even know each other, right?"
"Right." But Leigh’s answer was reluctant.
"I can tell … you girls are just out for a little fun and spending a week together would probably be awkward." Mavis pinned Leigh with her eyes. "Right?"
Leigh blinked. "Well, I don’t –"
Mavis turned her back to Leigh and reached for a plate. She smiled. "I mean, just because you’ve laughed and enjoyed each other over these past few weeks whenever you’ve stopped by the diner doesn’t mean it would be like that away from here."
Leigh swallowed but didn’t answer. Would it? "I’m," she pushed away from the counter, suddenly feeling very confused. I’m lonely? "I’m not ready to eat just yet, Mavis," she said quickly. "I’m going to grab a fast shower next door and then I’ll be back."
Leigh grabbed her backpack and hustled out the back door just as Pete walked through the front door.
"How’d it go," Pete whispered conspiratorially to Mavis as she pulled an apron over his head and tied it.
Mavis winked, then kissed the cook on the cheek. "Mission accomplished."
* * *
RJ moved her ladder over another few feet and climbed it, getting off carefully and trudging across the roof of the garage. The spring storms had been especially hard on the old building and it was in need of a few basic repairs. Setting her hammer down, she pulled a small crowbar from her belt and began to peel back the shingles that covered the roof, then the roofing paper.
The male and female squirrel, who had hitched a ride with Pete back from Glory, sat in a tree outside the garage, watching RJ.
"I can’t believe you killed me!" the female whined. "And on your first try, too." She herself had used poison on her mate. Not to mention all the blunt trauma episodes in their past. The smaller squirrel had seemed indestructible, nearly mystical in his ability to avoid actual death. Figures, that in the end, only he could end his miserable little life.
The male puffed out his chest. "And you said I could never do anything right."
"What a time to be wrong."
"Exactly."
"What are we going to do? We’re in Glory — squirrel purgatory! We’re being punished!"
"I know." He began to sob. "We’ll never see our park again." His cries grew louder. "Never spend the day with our seventeen baby squirrels."
You mean my seventeen babies and your three. Heh. The female’s ears perked up and her eyes went unfocused. "No more gathering food for everyone, preparing it for everyone, and cleaning it up," she whispered.
"No entertaining our friends."
"I will miss that delicious beaver though."
The male’s head jerked sideways.
"In a purely platonic way, of course," she said insincerely.
"Oh. Right." He snuggled closer to her, seeking her comfort in this, his hour of need. "We’ll never entertain at our nest."
"No more taking those same five feathers that line our nest and rearranging them so the neighbors will think we have new wall paper." Her eyes widened a little with realization.
"I know," the male anguished. "No more spending every Saturday with my mother."
The female knocked her mate down in her enthusiasm. She began kissing him wildly. "Thank you, thank you!"
RJ stared down at the roof. She thought she heard something. When she peeled away the next two shingles and paper, the noise grew louder. One more shingle and she could tell that it was water running. She pulled away a bit more paper and gasped. She could see directly down into the shower, where Leigh was currently soaping her feet. Sure, she had to crane her head around a beam and lean wayyyyy into the hole. But she could see her.
The male squirrel glanced curiously at RJ. "The human is a peeping Tom."
"This is news?" his mate answered. "They’re all perverts."
Leigh’s soapy hands worked up one leg and RJ bit her lip, stifling a groan. She pulled her head out of the hole and shook it a few times to clear it of the vision. "I will not look," she told herself firmly. "That’s a disgusting thin’ to do."
She wiped off her brow. Despite the fact that it was a relatively cool spring morning, RJ was feeling a little flushed. But I have to clear away that bit of insulation. It’s my job. I’ll be nothing but a professional and avert my eyes. She snorted. Yeah, right. But still, RJ hesitated.
"The human is having an attack of conscience. I can tell," the male declared.
His wife made a face. "How would you know?"
"Not by watching you, that’s for damn sure."
Losing the battle with herself, RJ peered back into the garage, easily getting a luscious eyeful of Leigh’s slick, naked body through the gentle cloud of steam. She was careful not to make any noise as she pulled away a piece of insulation that was obstructing her view.
Leigh soaped a large blue washcloth, running it slowly across her stomach.
RJ swallowed convulsively and whimpered just a tiny bit.
The hot water felt wonderful against Leigh’s skin. The shower in the garage was blessed with fabulous water pressure and her skin tingled where the water stuck her. She moaned with pleasure and RJ nearly lost her footing.
Swearing quietly, RJ backed up out of the hole and looked around self-consciously. This was like some demented test. And she was failing. Miserably. Giving up any pretense of restraint, she tossed the hammer and crowbar on the ground so she wouldn’t risk dropping them into the shower and stuck her head back down inside. Her hair was now damp from the escaping steam and her forehead and upper lip were beaded with perspiration.
Leigh soaped her washcloth again and tilted her head back. Eyes closed, she ran it languidly up her neck, then back down to circle both her breasts.
This time RJ couldn’t stop the escape of a low groan of pleasure as she watched Leigh’s nipples tighten.
But Leigh didn’t seem to hear it above the spray of the water.
The blonde lifted one arm, trailing the cloth from her underarms to the tips of her fingers. Then switched hands and repeated the procedure. Her skin was pink and flushed and RJ could feel an increase in the rising and falling of her own chest.
"Lord, ha’ mercy," RJ moaned, her eyes riveted on her lover, a throbbing in her lower belly making itself painfully known.
Leigh stuck her head directly under the spray, washing out the shampoo. Bubbles cascaded down her body over slippery firm breasts and disappeared over her thighs and between her legs. She picked up the washcloth and followed the bubble trail as she began to slowly drag the cloth between her legs.
RJ gasped. Her feet lost their purchase on the sloped roof and her arms began to flail wildly in an attempt to keep her balance. Her head popped out of the hole.
Leigh looked up into the empty hole. She cocked her head to the side and waited a few seconds before hearing a few loud thumps, what sounded like frantic clawing, and a high-pitched yelp. There was an even louder thudding sound, immediately followed by "Son of bitch!"
Leigh laughed and turned on the cold water. If RJ could swear, then she was still alive. And Leigh needed to cool down. RJ wasn’t the only one affected by her little show.
The male and female looked down at RJ, who was laughing and coughing weakly, sprawled out in the dirt alongside her hammer and crowbar.
The male scowled and put his acorn into his mate’s waiting, outstretched hand. "I’ll have to owe you the rest," he mumbled grumpily.
"No."
"That’s what I thought."
"Will you accept payment in sexual favors?" he asked hopefully.
The female thought about that for a moment. One acorn would last her the afternoon. She shrugged. "What the heck, I could stand a quickie."
"Is there another kind?"
"Not for squirrels."
CHAPTER VI
RJ SAT ON THE front porch of the diner, sipping coffee, intently watching the road from behind her sunglasses. She was bound and determined not look as excited as she felt. She groaned inwardly, deciding not to think about the ways Leigh excited her. At least not until they were alone. She cleared her throat and shifted a little in her chair.
After Leigh’s little ‘show’ in the shower the other morning, she’d been left so frustrated and horny that she couldn’t even begin to say no when the smirking trucker invited her to come along for ‘a little adventure’. As a matter of fact, she answered yes just a little quicker and louder than she meant to.
Pete bit back a grin as he sat down in the chair next to RJ. It had taken a little work, but he’d finally gotten permission for his friend to leave Glory and the diner for a time. Which was lucky, considering RJ had already accepted Leigh’s invitation. In his heart, Pete really believed RJ needed and deserved this time off. "So you ready to go? Got everything you need?"
RJ gave the half-full duffel bag at her foot a nudge. "Yeah, I think I’m about as ready as I can be."
Pete tugged an envelope from his hip pocket and pressed it into RJ’s hand. "You’ll need this."
The tall woman cracked it open and stared at the thick pile of bills. "Oh, Pete. I’ve got my own savings." Though why I’ve bothered to tuck it away for all these years, I’m not really sure. "I can’t be taking your money! There’s–"
"There’s no sense in arguing about it." He wrapped RJ’s fingers around the envelope and held them there. "We all decided you should have it. You’re going to need it out there." He grinned knowingly. "Besides, if you want to have a good time with Miss Leigh Matthews, part of that will mean being able to treat her properly."
