by Chana Keefer
I had to laugh as his nose tickled my neck. “All right. So you know how I smell. Back off.”
“But I like it in here.” A palm to his forehead pushed his face away. “And, I detect no trace of David Lee Roth. Miss Collins is fibbing again.”
“Alright, so my concert experience is limited and I admit there was a certain… fascination toward you. But now that I’ve met you and seen for myself how smug, self-centered, egotistical… and generally aggravating you are… ”
“You’re more taken with me than ever.” He finished the statement.
“Not to mention delusional… ” I faced him, bold in my efforts to maintain some shred of feminine dignity. Through the entire scathing character assessment, the self-assured expression on his face never wavered. “Stubbornly delusional… ” Something had to be done. I gave a disgusted sigh and reached for my glass, squeezing the lime into the water.
As Sky took a sip of his wine, I flicked the icy remains from my hand at him.
“Hey!” The look of surprise on his face was so gratifying, I reloaded and flicked again.
“What’s the matter Mr. Character Assessment? Didn’t see that comin’?” I mocked as he flinched in the cold rain yet again and reached to wrest the glass from my hand. I twisted away and in the sudden movement, my elbow knocked his hand that gripped the wine. I watched, horrified, as a large portion of the liquid sloshed to the carpet of the limo. I grabbed a handful of napkins and knelt to blot at the stain.
“Forget it. You’ve got other worries.” I glanced up to discover the remaining wine poised over my head.
“You wouldn’t really… ”
“You started it. Let’s see, self-centered, egotistical, delusional… ”
“Smug.” I couldn’t resist adding. His eyebrows raised and the glass tipped a bit more. I was a sitting duck. I glanced around quickly and grabbed a toothpick… not very effective, but I was armed.
Sky smirked. “Pathetic.”
“More than enough to deal with you.” I almost regretted my rash words as a dangerous light flared in his eyes.
He set down the wine glass and reached for a small silver trigger with a hose attached. In slow motion I saw his finger tighten and I reflexively shot an open palm toward the nozzle. The sudden strong surge was deflected, sending a wide arc of seltzer around and toward Sky. Other than a wet hand, I emerged from the short scrimmage unscathed.
What made me do it? I looked up into his stunned, dripping face and sneered, “Pa-the-tic.”
That word was a match dropped onto a powder keg. Sky shifted the nozzle’s aim to my face. I dove for the trigger. Water sprayed everywhere as we struggled. Soon both of us were dripping and laughing as the well-stocked bar of candy, fruit, and ice became an arsenal. At one point the window separating us from Frank came down and he called, “Kids! Don’t make me come back there!” When a handful of candy shot from Sky through the opening, the window slid back into place.
After several insane moments, the seltzer trigger was drained and the contents of the beautifully stocked bar lay scattered around us as if a giant had turned the car upside down and shaken it.
Not a square inch of the extended vehicle had escaped desecration. Every surface was fruited, trashed, and soggy, myself included.
“This is bad… ” I scooped up an armload of colorful debris, unsure of where to dispose of it.
“Don’t bother.” Sky reached to pull me back onto the seat. “I guess I just took part in a rock-and-roll rite of passage. I’ve never demolished a hotel room or fought with a concierge. This will have to do.”
“Oh. In that case… ” I dumped the contents of my arms onto his lap.
“Aw! You… ” Sky sputtered as he grabbed for my arms, taking both wrists in one hand and sitting on the rest of me. Up to this point, we had left the wine and soft drinks off the battlefield, now, however, he reached for a tiny can of soda and shook it under my nose.
It would have been wise to stop laughing and squirming, considering his definite advantage, but drops of seltzer dripped onto my face from his hair, an ice cube pressed between my shoulder blades and one lank lock of my hair laid across my nose and mouth like an itch I couldn’t scratch.
Since my hands were captive, I shook my head to clear my face. Didn’t work. I wiggled my nose, blew at the stubborn, plastered strand, and tried to move close enough to my fingers but they were held firmly out of reach so, to obtain immediate relief, I utilized Sky’s shoulder, rubbing my nose back and forth with a loud, “Blah!”
“What is this? Some ranch-style mating ritual?”
“My hair… it’s driving me nuts!”
“Pity.” Sky put down the soda and, instead of assisting my dilemma, he pulled the sweatshirt sleeves over my hands, crossed them and pulled the ends tight behind my back, fashioning a strait jacket.
“Jerk!” I choked out between spasms of laughter.
Sky’s arms encircled me as he continued to knot the sleeves. That task accomplished, he secured me with a forearm and retrieved the soda. I couldn’t help noticing how cute his hair was, flopping over one eye.
The adrenalin was like nothing I’d ever experienced. All five senses and more were razor sharp with offensive instinct. I was aware of everything, the sound of Sky’s breath, the warmth of his closeness, the clean scent of lime, the slosh of the soda, the deepening darkness due to leaving city lights behind and… deep satisfaction—despite the threat of soda up my nose. The moment ground to a halt.
Sky brought his face close to mine, “You know Miss Collins.” he pulled the hair away from my face. Ah, relief. He continued to study me as I wiggled my nose in celebration, “I could get absolutely lost in you.”
For a moment we simply stared at each other, tense, anticipating any sudden movement like two gunslingers ready to draw. There was a lime wedge by my foot and I was torn between hoping he would kiss me and wishing my toes were talented enough to fill his ear with citrus.
“So, does that mean you’re going to be nice?” I asked. The knot of sleeves was beginning to loosen and I could feel my right hand working free as he lowered the soda. Perhaps the odds were shifting in my favor.
He put his lips to my ear and whispered, “You… only… wish.” The warmth of his breath was delightful and disarming. I shuddered with a sudden chill since my ear and most of the rest of me was wet with seltzer.
“That was fun,” he commented as he shoved the ice-cold soda can against my neck for one torturous second and I shrieked with laughter. “Now Miss Collins.” He kept the can threateningly close. “Admit it—you’re crazy about me.”
“You. Only. Wish.” I gasped as the freezing aluminum again pressed under my chin. Aha. The ice at my back was now in my hand.
“Last chance. Say it.” I felt his finger on the pull-tab.
“Alright, you win! Let me unwind here.” I sat up to regain use of my arms. Looking into his eyes and pushing the ominous can from my jugular, I took a deep breath of surrender. “This is embarrassing.” I placed a hand behind his neck and fidgeted, allowing a long awkward pause before whispering in his ear. “You’re crazy about me.”
In a flash the ice was down his neck. It was a split second of triumph for which I would pay dearly. Without a word, Sky grabbed me up in his arms.
With a freezing shock I was plunked into the ice-filled bar. The breath was driven from my lungs as an Arctic chill soaked my backside.
I struggled out of my deep freeze, speechless, dripping and shivering, my only thought—instant payback.
Sky’s face mocked from the seat, smug and unrepentant. Not wanting another icy drip to go unshared, I sat on him.
His gasp and wide eyes at the cold was rewarding, but short-lived.
Sky’s arms wrapped around, “Now the girl is throwing herself into my lap. My appeal amazes even me!”
Ooh. That smug expression—as if this had been his plan all along. I hopped up, a bit ticked at my inability to gain the upper hand. The situation was brin
ging out that ugly, competitive side of me. Whatever the reason, Sky had to pay. I plunged my arms into the remaining ice and dumped it onto his lap.
Sky yelped and jumped up, banging his head on the car’s roof.
Having the upper hand wasn’t as rewarding as I’d anticipated, possibly due to the fact I couldn’t feel my hands that still dripped in the soaked sleeves of the sweatshirt which was now icy all around. In fact, my entire body began to shiver.
Sky held a hand to the top of his head. “If I say ‘you win’ can we end this?”
In answer, I wrung out the sleeves of my shirt, releasing a cold stream, and sneezed.
“Come here,” he commanded.
“As if I’ll trust you.”
Sky shoved debris off the seat and kicked at it to clear the floor then wiped the leather seat with some cocktail napkins. He took hold of my wet sleeve to pull me to the seat beside him then turned the cabin’s heater on high.
As he helped me thaw, he said, “When I was seven, I had such a crush on Jennifer Kornpfeiffer. She had this gorgeous shiny red hair that hung in copper ringlets. I was head-over. At that age, though, girls were the enemy… carriers of deadly cooties. I could never admit my feelings, so I tormented her.”
Sky placed one of my icy hands on the top of his head where I felt a small lump. “May as well put it to good use,” he said before returning to his story.
“One day, Miss Kornpfeiffer finally had enough. I called her ‘Cornyfluff’ and she hopped off her swing and popped me in the nose. I was teased mercilessly for being hit by a girl, but I learned my lesson. Never again did I allow myself to sink to such juvenile madness over a woman… until now.”
He kept his eyes on my thawing hand that he rubbed in the warm air of the car’s heater. I had been much more comfortable with the comical atmosphere. Honesty would make me face the fact that just a few short miles remained in this “relationship,” if it even had a right to be labeled as such.
I reclaimed both my hands and rubbed them vigorously. “So, where will you be tomorrow?”
He sat back in the seat with a sigh, “Chicago for two days, then to New York.”
It was as if I’d pulled the plug on the fun. I leaned toward the strong current of warm air, pulling some of my dripping hair forward to dry. “Well anyway, I’m glad I helped you revisit your obnoxious childhood. Miss Cornyfluff has my deepest sympathy… and respect. It’s a shame it’s been so long since a woman put you in your place.”
He gave my hair a tug to pull me against the seat. “O-ho! In my place? You have a very poor memory, or shall we revisit the ice?”
Good. He was laughing again. Somehow that was of utmost importance.
Sky’s grip on my hair tightened a bit until there was nowhere to look but into his face. For a moment we simply studied each other. I was struck by that sense of familiarity, as if I’d been there before. There was a growing excitement and yet—peace. How was that possible?
Sky’s face inched close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek. He hesitated and scratched his head in confusion.
“I’ve never been in this situation before. Do I wrestle you or make a pass?”
“Better stick to wrestling. I need to keep disliking you since I’ll never see you again.” The comment was intended to be funny, but landed between us with a thud. With another sneeze, I broke the awkward silence.
“You’re an icicle. Here.” He took me by the shoulders and stationed me in front of him, backside where the floor vent was strongest.
Ah, now that was getting to the source of my chill. I shivered, snuggled into the warmth and smiled with gratitude, “You’re not being nice are you?”
“It’s completely selfish. I’m enjoying the view.” His expression caused more heat than the air at my back.
“Yeah, right.” I smoothed self-consciously at my dripping hair.
Sky reached forward and placed a hand on either side of my head, drawing the damp curls forward to spread over my shoulders. “Whenever they play ‘The Eyes of Texas,’ this is what I’ll see,” he said.
Later I thought of countless witty replies, but in that moment all I could do was sit there, overwhelmed and mute.
He looked thoughtful. “Where were you seven years ago?”
It sounded like a rhetorical question, but I needed to see him smile. “That was year thirteen—the worst school picture of all time. Major ugly-duckling phase.”
He smiled. “Well, you were supposed to be infiltrating rock concerts. What took you so long?” There it was again. Something in his eyes pierced my heart, making me feel lonely, sad, and lost. Finally, I gave in to what I’d felt compelled to do several times that night. Moving onto my knees, I wrapped my arms around his neck. It wasn’t a romantic overture. I simply sensed a need and wanted to fill it.
I don’t know how long we remained there, his head resting on my shoulder.
Finally, with a wave of disappointment, I felt the car exit the highway, the slight jolt forcing an end to the moment. As I moved to release him, Sky’s arms squeezed tighter. A warm wetness landed on my neck. I didn’t understand what was going on, but I relaxed again, ignoring the unmistakable turning onto my parents’ road and then driveway, the crunch of gravel under the car’s tires. We rolled to a stop and still Sky didn’t move.
He stroked my hair until a tangled curl got in the way. His shoulders started shaking with quiet laughter as he extracted something—a tiny piece of wrapped candy.
“There’s no telling what’s hidden in there at this point.” I laughed and shook my head like a dog, actually dislodging another candy. “Please tell me there’re no maraschino cherries.”
“I don’t know about fruit.” He took my hand and held it up in the dim light. “But I do know there’s a souvenir hidden right here.” He indicated my pinky finger. “How did you get my heart wrapped around such a tiny thing?”
I pressed my hand to his chest. “Don’t leave that behind, you might need it.”
“I can guarantee it’s in safer keeping here.” He closed my hand and pushed it back toward me then tapped the window.
Soon, Frank was opening the door and Sky gave me a hand to disembark. As I emerged, he gave Frank a dismissive pat on the back. Our driver went round to his place in the front seat to, I’m sure, act as uninterested as possible. The light was dim, but I did catch Frank’s grin as he passed.
There was a low growl and Sammy, my speckled, medium-sized mutt, came round the house. “Hi Sammy!” I whispered as loudly as I dared and he bounded to me with a stupid, sleepy stride to place his wet nose in my hand and wag his entire body as close as possible. He sniffed at my clothes, but soon was convinced I was safe and turned his attention to Sky who knelt down and held out a hand. I watched closely. Sammy was an expert judge of character and would make his opinion known without delay.
I recalled the time when a boy from a neighboring town had asked me to his prom. He pulled up to the house in his flashy Camaro and had started toward our front door. Just as he gained the porch, Sammy bounded round the side of the house barking and growling like a junkyard dog. My dad opened the front door in time to see Sammy chase the young man back to his vehicle. Dad came in laughing that Sammy was doing his job for him. Sammy was right. The guy was a bit of a sleaze, but, thanks to my scruffy friend’s diligence, I didn’t even have to juggle an unwanted goodnight kiss since my escort was too frightened to leave the safety of his car.
But now, Sammy sat across from Sky, locked eyes and stared. Sky followed suit.
For one long moment they didn’t flinch. Finally, just as I was ready to break up the macho display, Sammy took one wary step toward Sky and sat before him to offer his paw for a shake; the only trick in his repertoire besides character assessment. Sky accepted the gesture.
“Hello pooch,” he whispered, shaking Sammy’s paw and giving him a scratch behind the ears. Sammy accepted these tokens then trotted a few feet away to maintain a watchful eye.
�
�I’ve never seen him act like that,” I commented.
“Well,” Sky took on a lecturing tone, “I think I know enough ‘dog’ to interpret that conversation.”
“Please do.”
“While some of the verbs are a bit difficult, his basic message was, ‘Watch your manners and the placement of your paws or I will tear out your throat you son of a … ’” Sky added a beep to emphasize Sammy’s expletive.
“Sammy!” He hung his head but refused to budge from his post. “He was a stray. I’ve tried for years to refine him but… old dogs and all.”
I wanted to chatter and forget the real reason we stood there. Cinderella’s time was up. A cool breeze stirred and I shivered in my damp clothes.
Sky slipped an arm around my shoulders, “You need to be inside. I’ll walk you to the door… ” He took one step and Sammy leapt with a deep growl to block the path. “All right, all right! I’ll stay!” Sky laughed and drew me back to the side of the car wrapping his arms around in defiance. “But it’s your fault I have to keep her warm.” Sammy held his ground.
“It’s nice here,” Sky commented, looking up at the bright stars and the crescent moon just disappearing behind a cloud. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Let’s see, breeze blowing over open spaces, cows and horses, room to roam… perfect for raising a free-range Texas lass.”
The moment was too perfect… too sad… and there was an undeniable lump growing in my throat. I took a breath, and forced out the words, “It’s late. You’d better go.” But instead of moving away, my head leaned onto his shoulder.
His arms tightened. “And you need to get out of these wet clothes.” He paused and shook his head. “Sorry, mind wandered.”
I looked up to give him a glare.
His eyes opened wide with innocence, “It’s not my fault you’re so… so… ” He pulled me closer. I was only inches from his lips. I braced myself for contact, “so amazingly… ” His voice was an intimate whisper. My eyes closed in breathless anticipation, “smug, and self-centered… ”
I drew back and punched him in the chest.
