The sound of gravel crunching warned me that someone had pulled up even before the sound of the car door. Part of me wondered if I was about to be rolling around on the front lawn with some big Kentucky good old boy as I turned and looked out the window. Instead I saw Miss Lily-Rylee heading for the front porch. I admired her hips and the way they swayed as she hustled to the front porch. She was wearing a thin flannel shirt that she'd knotted below her breasts, leaving plenty of belly bare over the set of cuttoff Levi jeans she wore.
For some reason I found that little bit of a muffin top at the top of her tight cutoffs to be kind of sexy. Plump evidence of cushion that would feel sweet against my palms.
Pru has only been dead
oh shut the fuck up
I dabbed at the corners of my mouth and my mustache, standing up and putting the napkin down. I was almost to the door when the doorbell rang.
She stared at me when I whipped open the door. "Morning, Miss Lily-Rylee," I said, smiling.
I'd woken up crying, but my mood had improved as soon as I had remembered the night before. I'd showered in warm water, shaved, and gotten dressed. Desert combat boots, jeans, and a black T-shirt with the Nike logo on it, topping it off with a flannel shirt. I was moving gingerly, but I felt better than I could remember.
She gaped at me, staring up. I realized how short she was, maybe five foot two.
So different from Pru's height.
Except Pru was dead.
and barely cold in her grave
yeah, well this woman's not, and Miss Mary-Beth sure as shit wasn't, now leave me alone.
you just couldn't wait, could you
She left, not me.
The internal argument flashed through, and I noticed I didn't get the accompanying whiplash of emotions. Part of me wondered if it was the medication.
"Come in," I smiled.
She jerked like I'd shocked her, blushing, and hurried by me. She had a little bag with the pharmacy logo on the side in one hand.
"Doc Rutheford said this needs to be put on in the morning and evening," she said. She blushed. "I, uh, couldn't make it last night."
I smiled at her. "It's all right."
She moved over to the chairs, looking at what was left of breakfast on my plate. "Omelette?"
I nodded, still smiling. "I made it."
"Been a while since you cooked?" She asked gently.
Pru or the housekeeper were the one who cooked, although it had been the housekeeper more and more over the years
"Yeah," I said. I motioned at the stove. "You want one? I'll warn you, a good Texas omelette takes about a half hour to make, and goes with hashbrowns."
She laughed and shook her head. "Trying to fatten me up like cow?" she asked. She arched her eyebrow at me and I could see merriment in her eyes.
"Maybe I like my girls a little plump," I shot back.
I suddenly remembered Miss Mary-Beth's plentiful fat ass and blushed.
"Blushing again, Sam," She laughed. She set the bag on the table and dug in it. "You owe me ten dollars."
I pulled out my wallet, digging out a ten and handing it to her. She brought out packets of koolaid and the silvadene. I finished off the last of my omelette and hashbrowns, watching her get everything out and then put the Koolaid into the drawer I'd decided was my junk drawer.
"Oh, I brought your mail," She said, pulling it out of the bag.
Bank statement from Blue Creek Credit Union, confirmation of address change from the VA, confirmation of my direct deposit from the VA, confirmation of my paperwork by the Army and DoD, electric company validation of hooking up my power as well as the massive deposit I'd put down, county notification my septic, well, and drainage field had passed inspection, the title to the trucks as well as the plates.
The plates made me stare.
One was a Kentucky Purple Heart Combat Wounded plate with a disabled marker, the other was a Kentucky Silver Star Valor plate with a disabled marker.
"Oh my god," Miss Lily-Rylee said.
Gary at the gas station also did vehicle registrations. He'd asked for my military ID and a copy of my DD-214 (before I'd turned it into the county seat), as well as my VA rating letter when I'd gotten it. He must have ordered them for me.
Wow, they only cost a total of about fifty bucks for both plates. Damn.
"You earned that?" She asked me.
I nodded dumbly, sliding them under the envelope they'd come in.
She gave me a look I found uncomfortable. Like she was judging me by some criteria I didn't understand, one that mattered.
One that didn't take in the Bomber Family Legacy or the Bomber Fortune into account.
It was a look that judged just me, Samuel English. Widower. Veteran. Texan.
"You done eating, Tex?" She asked me. There was a sparkle in her eyes I didn't recognize.
I nodded dumbly and she pointed at me. "Off with the shirt. Let's put the cream on your back."
I got up, stretching and yawning, and my back popped. I smiled down at her. "Instead of ruining your back, I can lay on the bed and you can put it on," I told her.
Her eyes opened wide in shock and she blushed.
It was my turn to laugh at her. "Ya'll 'tucky gals shure do blush easy now," I drawled.
Miss Lily-Rylee laughed. "OK, I deserved that," she looked at me challengingly. "Fine."
I led her down the hallways to the big master bedroom. She stopped and looked around. "My God, Samuel, you did all this?"
I just shrugged, looking at everything. "Needed to take my mind offa thangs," I told her, taking off the flannel and dropping it on the footboard.
She shook her head, a quick snap, and then looked at me out of the corner of her eyes. "Get undressed, Samuel, let'd get the cream on your back."
I stiffened, my hands on my shirt.
she'll see the scars
Almost angrily I tore off my shirt, tossing it on top of the flannel.
"Lose the pants too, cowboy," She said.
That made me stop. I looked at her, aware it was my turn to blush.
"Well?" She challenged, her hands on her hips. "You wearing underwear, or you got something you figure I've never seen?"
"Tentacles?" I suggested, working on my belt.
"Do I look like a Japanese school-girl to you?" Miss Lily-Rylee asked. That made me laugh and I let my pants fall to the floor, sitting down to unlace the desert combat boots and pull them off.
"Lay on your stomach," She commanded. She sighed when I laid down, stretching out. I'd bought a California King and turned it sideways to give me more room, putting a King sized headboard and footboard down. I was tall, and the CA King was wider than the King was long, and it gave me a few extra inches to stretch out.
"Most of your blisters look like they've popped," She said, clicking her tongue.
"Might as well cut away the dead skin," I said.
"I was thinking the same thing," she said. "Got a sharp knife?" she asked.
"Top drawer, bathroom, left hand side of the sink," I said, pointing at the door the master bathroom.
I watched her walk in, admiring her chubby butt swaying back and forth. I idly wondered if she wore the shorts for herself or someone else.
She came out with a pair of scissors and an X-acto knife. She straddled me. "This might sting," she warned me.
I laid there while she worked, excising the dead skin from the popped blisters. It would keep me from getting debris under the blisters.
"You really did a number on your back. You're lucky you've got scars, they didn't blister too bad, so your back isn't one whole blister," She mused.
"Yeah, lucky," I growled as she grazed sensitive burnt skin with the edge of the scissors.
After a bit she leaned back. "Done," She said. "Wow, you heal pretty fast."
"Good living," I lied.
"All right, cream time, cowboy," she said. She began putting the cream on my back, carefully smearing it on without rubbing it and risking tearing the skin.
I found myself getting warm and drowsy. Maybe it was the pills, or maybe breakfast, maybe both, or maybe it was just her strong fingers sliding the thick silvadene cream onto my back, but I started drifting lightly. I was warm, just relaxing, feeling her fingers glide over my skin.
A loud crackling in the distance jerked me awake, automatic weapon's fire according to my brain. I moved, my hand snatching the pistol off the nightstand as I rolled, pinning the medic Miss Lily-Raylee under me, looking around the desert, my weight held partially off her by my elbow on my right arm, the pistol held up at a forty-five degree angle. My other hand was across her body amor, across her chest, pinning her to the ground bed. I could smell the desert, feel the burn on my back from the sand being rubbed against my skin by my body armor and gear, taste the hot taste of adrenaline in my mouth.
"Stay down," tore from my throat. I could see the desert around me for a moment, overlaid over my master bedroom.
"It's the Fourth of July, Samuel," she said softly. Her hand came up and stroked my cheek. "It's just firecrackers, dumb kids out by the road."
I looked down at her, breathing heavy, staring at her.
"You're smashing my boobs," She said softly, her hand still caressing my cheek. "Do you know where you are?"
I blinked, then blushed as it all rushed back. I rolled off of her, sitting on the bed. She rolled too, her legs sliding to either side of mine. Miss Lily-Rylee's hands slid around me, running down my forearms, and she covered the pistol with her hands.
"Easy, Samuel," she said, blowing on the back of my neck like I was a nervous horse.
Maybe I was.
"Can you set the pistol down yet?" She asked me.
I nodded jerkily, thumbing the safety on and setting it back on the nightstand.
"Samuel?" she asked gently, her hands sliding up and down my forearms, leaving behind a slight sheen of silvadene.
"Yeah?" I shuddered, and realized I suddenly had to pee.
"Maybe you should put it in the drawer. You're reflexes are a little too fast right now," She said softly.
I nodded jerkily, leaning forward and grabbing the pistol. I held my left hand under it and ejected the magazine, letting it slide halfway out of the grip. I opened the drawer and set it inside. I would take me an extra half-second to ram the magazine home and snap the slide, but I was pretty sure that...
"You're trembling," She said softly, blowing on the back of my neck again. Her hands were rubbing my bare thighs.
"I need to pee," I told her.
"In a minute," she said, rubbing my legs, which had started trembling.
"That hasn't happened in years," I told her. "I'm so sorry."
She giggled, "For what? Thinking there was gunshots and rolling on top of me to protect me?"
"Yeah," I told her.
"Well, you did crush my boob and poke me in the belly," she giggled.
"Poked you?" I asked.
She giggled and tapped me with her fingers, making me look down.
My erection was sticking out of the hole in the front of my boxers.
"Oh, shit," I said, jumping up.
She started laughing as I fixed my boxers. I started toward the bathroom and she grabbed my waistband, pulling me back the bed.
"Unless the toilet's on the ceiling, you might want to wait a few minutes there, Tex," She giggled. She reached over, grabbed my flannel, and get out my cigarettes. She lit two and handed the pack and Zippo to me. I put them on the nightstand and accepted the cigarette.
"That was very flattering," Miss Lily-Rylee smiled. I glanced down at my lap and she laughed, slapping my thigh. "Not that, Tex, the way you rolled on top of me."
I suddenly remembered the way her hips had flexed, her eyes had widened, her lips parted, and her legs wrapped around me. She'd made a soft noise of pleasure that I'd initially missed because I'd been looking around wildly, like a crazy person, for a war that didn't exist outside my head and over a decade ago.
"If I hadn't seen those plates, seen your eyes, I would have thought you were trying to pull a fast one," she said softly. "I saw your eyes."
"I'm sorry," I told her.
She pecked a kiss on my shoulder. "Don't be. I'm a big girl, I'm all right."
We finished our cigarettes in silence. Afterwards, I couldn't ignore my bladder any more and went in to take a leak.
It wasn't till I was laying on the bed, dozing off, that I realized something.
I hadn't shut the door to the bathroom
And she hadn't said anything.
My confusion followed me into sleep.