By the time we entered town, the sun was setting. The red sky reflected off the trees, filling the air with warmth and beauty. Max was cheerful and full of energy as we hopped out of the jeep and strolled toward the Buffalo Bar. The soft evening promised excitement and perhaps something more. Music poured out the door. My heart began to beat faster.
"I guess they start early on Saturday nights, huh?"
"Most of them have cows to milk in the morning," joked Max.
The place was bustling. The pool tables were surrounded by players, the dance floor featured several couples moving slowly to the juke box, and the dinner tables teemed with hungry patrons. Ed waved from behind the bar. We waved back. I felt welcome despite the strangers, something I hadn't felt in a long time.
"Where do you want to sit?" Max asked. "Table or bar?"
"I'm with you. You choose."
Max headed to the bar and pulled out two stools near the center. A smooth, gleaming varnish showed Ed's devotion to the old oak bar. I ran my fingers over the surface, relishing the feel.
"How are you doing, Max?" Ed wiped the counter and slid two coasters in front of us. "Evening, Jamie. Good to see you."
"Hi Max," I replied. "This is the hot spot tonight, huh?"
He laughed. "I don't have much competition when it comes to dancing. It's either here or the kitchen floor. Whaddya have to drink?"
"I'm in the mood for a vanilla coke," I answered.
Max looked at me. "Where did that come from?"
"I don't know," I lied. I couldn't reveal the story although if I did, I might discover if Margarite wrote the tale about him. "Like vanilla cokes?"
"I'd rather have a beer," he said. "Draft."
"One draft and one vanilla coke." Ed walked away, and I swung my chair toward Max, tapping my knee against his leg. He tapped back gently and winked. He glanced at my breasts and let out a shallow sigh.
"What?"
He shook his head. "Nothing."
"You're grinning about something."
"Wondering when I'll get to be the guinea pig again."
I smiled and looked away into the mirror. It was flattering knowing that he was attracted to me. I felt empowered. Ed returned with our drinks and dropped a couple of menus.
"You going to eat?" he asked.
"You bet," answered Max. "I'll have my usual."
"What about you, Jamie?"
"I'll have a salad and some French fries."
"Is that all?"
"Yes." I sipped vanilla coke as Ed looked at Max and shrugged. Max smiled as Ed left for the kitchen.
"God, this is great!" I had forgotten how delicious a vanilla coke tasted.
Max watched but didn't comment as he sipped his beer. In the mirror behind the bar, the band set up--a guitar, fiddle, and keyboard. The juke box kept the dancers happy, but I knew the small floor would get more crowded before the evening was over. The music had been country except for one Bruce Springstein song. I wondered if Max danced.
"Do you dance?"
"To this?" He rolled his eyes.
"No, in general. Like to dance."
"Depends on my partner." He winked.
"What does that mean?"
"Well, if she steps on my toes, I stay in my seat."
"Do you line dance?" I had decided I was not going to make a fool of myself by pretending I knew the complicated steps. I couldn't even follow jazzercize classes.
"No," he laughed. "I'm too much of a klutz."
"I bet you're more graceful than I am."
"Like a cow is more graceful than a skunk."
The Springstein song ended, and a slow Clay Walker song started.
"Now that's music." Max tapped the bar.
"You can dance to that?" I teased.
"If I didn't know better, Jamie, I'd think you were trying to get me to dance."
"I'd love to." I winked.
He sat his beer on the bar and took my hand, leading me through the couples already dancing. With one smooth movement, he pulled me into his arms. Before I knew it we were dancing. He held me firmly against him and lead me around the floor, which surprised me. I was expecting the same shyness on the dance floor. I relaxed and melted against him, and we flowed with the music. My face barely touched his chin, but our bodies pressed together as we glided. He was a better dancer than I had imagined.
I felt an erotic stirring. His firm grip on my waist, the smell of his neck, and the meeting of our bodies in rhythm with the music swept through me. I wanted to joke, to lighten the mood. I almost hoped he would stumble or step on my toes so we could laugh. Instead, he pulled me closer and brushed my forehead with a kiss. I closed my eyes and let myself be swept in his arms. When the song ended, he held me for a long moment. I pulled away and looked into eyes that were both wondrous and wonderful. It was a moment of truth, a moment when the eyes are clear windows to the soul. No subterfuge, no games, no slyness, an honesty of thought and desire that exhilarated. Max had thoroughly enjoyed the dance. Desire lit his eyes.
"Wow," I sighed. "I could dance with you all night."
Max smiled, almost embarrassed, and looked at the bar. "Let's eat dinner first."
As we reached our stools, a woman walked up and laid her hand on Max's shoulder.
"I thought that was you." She looked at me and smiled cautiously. Max froze for a moment and then stammered an hello.
"Tammy, this is Jamie."
"Hi." She smiled and held out her hand. "Max told me you were staying in the house this summer."
I shook a warm, firm hand and smiled as we three looked at each other. "Max finally hauled me into town to see the bright lights."
"Would you like to eat with Sheila and me?" She looked at our food on the counter. "We've got a table around the corner."
Max looked helpless, and I wasn't sure if I should say yes. "Sure." I shrugged my shoulders at him as she walked toward her table. We grabbed our drinks and plates and followed. Max seemed anxious. I wasn't sure if Tammy caused his anxiety or me, or both of us.
Tammy was pretty, with long, blond hair over her shoulders. She seemed pleasant as we sat at her table. Sheila, on the other hand, was well on her way to being drunk. She couldn't hold her tongue.
After introductions, Sheila ran her fingers through her dyed blond hair and leaned back in her chair. "So you're the hot little number the guys been talkin' about."
"The guys?" I asked.
"Riley and his amigos." She was pleased to know more than the rest of us. "Riley was telling the pool hustlers about the new fox in town."
I was embarrassed and didn't know how to reply. Tammy and Max fidgeted awkwardly, but didn't rescue me.
"I think Riley just likes to tell stories."
"Yeah." She sipped her drink. "No one's that pretty." She laughed, trying to turn the barb into a joke, but she didn't fool anyone.
"I'm new," I assured her. "Once the novelty wears off, the boys will move on to someone else."
"Lord knows we don't see much new around here," slurred Sheila. "Tammy coming home was the most exciting thing all year, wasn't it Max?"
"Pretty much," Max mumbled, trying to lose the conversation in his Buffalo Burger. Sheila leaned close as if to whisper, but spoke in her normal tone.
"Max and Tammy were as hot as French fry grease before she left."
"Sheila!" Tammy slammed her mug on the table. "Shut up and go play some pool."
"Good idea." Sheila stood and grabbed her drink and cigarettes. "Nobody's gonna ask me to dance with her sittin' close." She staggered as she headed toward the pool tables.
"Sorry about that," Tammy said. "She's only obnoxious when she's awake."
"Have you two been friends long?" I asked.
"Forever." She sighed. "We grew up here. I've known her since we were eight. She's a good heart most nights. Foul mood tonight, though."
"Why?"
"Her boyfriend decided he needed more 'space'. She hates everybody right now."
I nodded and took a bite of salad. We both looked at Max who was quietly finishing his dinner. He smiled but didn't offer conversation.
"So what do you do here in town?" I asked Tammy.
"I was doing bookkeeping before I left, and I'm trying to pick up my old clients. I'm staying with my folks until I find a steady job and can afford my own place. Probably a month or two."
"Do you have a lot of family around here?"
"Just about everybody. My brothers and sisters and most of my mother's family. What about you?"
"No, Margarite was my only relative in the area."
"Why does your family keep the house?"
"We like to come here for vacations, and it's hard to sell Margarite's house." I looked at Max. "Besides, it would put Max out of a job."
"Yeah, a real tough job."
"Hey," protested Max. "I work hard!"
"Yes, you do," I agreed. "I can't imagine how awful it would look if you weren't around."
The band started playing, and it became impossible to talk. We turned our chairs toward the band. While Max and I finished our dinner, the crowd poured onto the dance floor and started two-stepping. Some short man with a noticeable paunch tapped me on the shoulder. I politely declined his offer to "sashay with the other fillies." When the song ended, Max asked me if I wanted another vanilla coke. I said I was ready for a glass of Zinfandel.
"Damn," he pouted. "I thought you were the designated driver."
He asked Tammy if she wanted anything. She was doing fine with her beer. By the time the band started again, he was off to the bar. A lanky man in tight jeans and a cowboy hat grabbed Tammy, and soon she was two-steppin' with the best of them. I studied the dance. It looked easy, but somehow I didn't think it would be.
Max returned as Tammy waved good-bye to the cowboy. Before he could sit, the band started a slow dance, and Tammy grabbed his arm. "Come dance with me." She tugged his arm. He looked at me, and I waved him on, wishing it were me who walked to the dance floor on his arm. I tried not to stare, but they danced at the edge of the crowd, easily in view. Did he hold her as tightly as he had held me? Was he kissing her hair? Was she relishing the feel of his arms, the hardness of his body?
"Get a grip, Jamie," I scolded myself. "You two are just friends."
"There you are!" Riley yelled from across the room. He shoved his way through the crowd, and I braced for one of his bear hugs. "Why are you hiding in the corner?"
"I'm not hiding. I'm with friends... who happen to be dancing." Riley sat and pulled his chair next to mine. He draped his arm around me as if we had been dating for months. I casually leaned away from him, but he read body language about as well as he read Arabic.
"I've been thinking about you all day, darlin'." His eyes roamed dress and paused a little too long on my breasts.
"Oh really?"
"I'm sorry about this morning. I was as out of line as rooster in a pig sty."
"It's okay. Forget it."
"Who wrote that stuff anyway?"
"I don't know." I shrugged tried to change the subject. "So how are the cows?"
"As fat as a your Aunt Tessie after Thanksgiving dinner." He beamed. "And the beef market has turned the corner and is heading up."
"Was it down?"
"Honey, that damn cholesterol scare made beef a four letter word--which it is." He laughed raucously, as if he had said something exceedingly clever.
The dance ended. Max and Jamie returned from the dance floor. Tammy seemed pleased that Riley evened out the boy - girl ratio, leaving her with Max. Max didn't look so pleased.
"Hey Riley." Tammy sat. "How're you doing?"
"Great, just great. Hey Max!"
"Riley." Max sat in a chair that had been moved by Riley.
"You ready to dance?" Riley asked, as the band kicked up a fast tune.
"I can't dance to this stuff. Sorry."
"Hell, anybody can dance to this. Come on."
"No, really," I protested. "Maybe Tammy."
Tammy and Riley seemed surprised by my suggestion but shrugged their shoulders and headed off to the dance floor. Max winked and slid his chair a little closer.
"Nice work."
"Thanks."
I sipped wine and watched the crowd, but my gaze invariable returned to Max. I wondered if he watched Tammy and Riley. I wondered how he felt about her. Was he in love with her? She was still interested in him; that was obvious. The next song started. Tammy and Riley stayed out for another round. She looked good dancing. She had that sensuous sway that probably hypnotized men. Riley danced like a strutting bird, his bones and chin sticking out at odd angles. I wondered if he had ever seen himself on video tape. Probably not, or why would he dance that way? When they returned, Riley pulled me from my chair and took my hand.
"You're dancin' the next one," he insisted.
"I told you, I don't know how!"
"Hell, I'll carry you around the floor. Now come on."
The song wasn't too fast. True to his word, Riley pulled me along until I learned the steps. The difficult part was dancing backwards around the floor.
"That's not so hard, is it?" He pulled me closer and kissed me beneath my ear.
"No," I admitted. "Kind of fun."
Riley laughed. "You need to trust the old Riley, darlin'."
He twirled me around. I squealed and almost fell. He grabbed me and pulled me closer. "You don't get away that easy."
We laughed as we followed the other pairs. I was enjoying myself more than I had believed possible.
"You're just about the prettiest girl I've ever met." He spoke in my ear and kissed my neck softly. "I can't believe I'm dancing with you."
"There are lots of pretty girls. You've just seen them all before."
"None as fetchin' as you."
He twirled me around, and I felt I was in the tea cups at the fair, those things that spin faster and faster. At first it was fun, but then I started to feel dizzy.
"Stop," I pleaded.
"Sorry." He slowed down. "I love doing that."
"I need to sit down," I confessed.
"No, you'll be okay."
He pulled me into his arms and danced slowly. I fell against him and was glad to know he was strong enough to carry me to the table if I couldn't walk. Encouraged when I didn't resist, he pulled me tighter. My arms instinctively went around his neck.
"God, you feel great," he whispered. I was confused by being so close, the rush of the same feelings I had enjoyed with Max. The closeness of our bodies moving to the music stirred some emotion deep in my being. Only, I wanted Max to be the one holding and whispering and nuzzling. When the music stopped, I insisted on the table. When I sat down, Max looked puzzled.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I think so. I got a little dizzy out there."
Riley laughed. "She didn't like spinning. Ain't got her sea legs." He gulped down beer and poured another from a pitcher that had appeared while we were dancing.
"Ooh, I love spinning," laughed Tammy.
"The wine went to my head," I said.
The band started another song. We sat quietly and watched. Max seemed edgy and I wanted to pull him aside. I didn't know if he wanted to be alone with Tammy, or not be with her, or what. I had never learned the fine art of reading minds. When the next dance started, I insisted Riley use Tammy as his victim. I stayed with Max. We watched them twirl. It made me dizzy to even watch. The next song was slow, and I grinned as Riley glanced at me when Tammy wrapped her arms around him.
Max winked at me. "You feeling okay now?"
"Is that your way of asking me to dance?"
He stood, taking my hand and merging into the crowd. I returned to his arms and felt him pull me close. I sighed and melted into his chest. He kissed my cheek and cradled me.
"You doing okay?" I asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know...you just seem a little lost."
"Well, it's strange to sit between a woman I used to love and one I'm falling in love with."
My feet stopped, and I think my heart fluttered. I couldn't believe he felt that way, let alone told me. I was dumbfounded.
"Oh Max, I..."
"Mind if I cut in?" asked Riley, tapping on Max's shoulder. Tammy waited to take Max away. He looked torn, but I squeezed his hand
"As long as you promise not to twirl me," I insisted as Max released me.
"Yes, Ma'am." Riley pulled me tight and moved slowly across the floor. Once or twice, I caught Max's eye. We winked at each other. I couldn't think of anything except his words Riley didn't exist. All I wanted was get home with Max and talk...or maybe make love. Oh God, was I ready?
©Copyright 1996 - 1998 Angela Preston. These stories may not be reprinted in any form without written permission.