Page 81 of The River We Remember
“All right. And, Brody, I’ll have your sandwich ready in a minute.”
She disappeared into the kitchen.
Landis watched her go with an obvious appreciation of the view of her from behind. “Mind if I ask you a question, Brody?”
“It’s a free country.”
“Anything between you and Angie?”
“Between?”
“She your girl now?”
“I wouldn’t say that, no.”
“So you wouldn’t mind if I asked her out sometime?”
“I thought you were dating Mimi Fowler?”
“Not married to her.” Landis glanced toward the kitchen. “So, you mind?”
“Gordy, you do whatever you want to do.”
“Looks like you nailed Bluestone good. That’s one Indian can kiss his ass goodbye.”
“He gets a fair trial, Gordy.”
“Right.” Landis laughed as if it were a joke. “It’s in their blood, you know. There’s a reason they’re called savages.”
Everything in Brody wanted to hit the man. Instead he said, “I have to go. Duties to see to.” He stood up, walked the length of the counter, and called into the kitchen as he passed, “Gotta run, Angie. I’ll take a raincheck on that sandwich.”
SHE MET HIM that night in a place where they’d sometimes met before. It was in the loft of the barn on the old Zimmerman homestead, abandoned but not so long ago that everything had fallen into disrepair. It was a good place for a clandestine affair, set back from the road and with no other farmhouse near. When they met this way, it was always at night, and Brody always brought a little kerosene lantern and kept the wick burning low so that they could see each other, but only dimly.
Her lovemaking that night was fierce. There was something almost animal in everything she did. It was exciting, but it wasn’t what Brody had wanted from her exactly. When they’d finished, they lay on the blanket Brody had spread across a bed of old straw, both of them sweating, panting, together yet apart.
For a long time, neither of them spoke. Brody was trying to work up the courage to tell her some of the things he’d never told anyone, some of what he’d wanted to tell Angie that afternoon but had, in the end, been too afraid to. Across the rest of the day, he’d chewed on it mercilessly and finally decided that if anyone could accept the truth of him, it would be the only woman he’d ever loved. What they shared, he thought, went deeper than all the places their naked flesh had touched.
She spoke first. “Did you have a good time?”
“I love being with you like this. You know that.”
“I mean the other night. At Loretta Wicklow’s party.”
“Oh. That. It was fine.”
“I heard she was pretty.”
“Who?”
“Your date.”
“It wasn’t a date. I just gave Angie a ride.”
“I think you enjoyed yourself quite a bit for just a ride.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I know you, Brody. I can tell. So, did you kiss her good night?”
