Her

She wondered what happened to him. He was with her one night and then gone. The young lady gave him her number. He never called.

And he took off as soon as they were done making love. Said he had to get going. Had to get up early the next morning. Call me, she said, half asleep. He nodded his head in the dark. Didn’t say a word.

The pickup started and he pulled out of the gravel driveway. Woke up her young boy in the other room. Go back to sleep, momma told him. Everything’s alright, she said.

He drove through town. Bars were closed. So were the liquor stores. He had a pint in his glove box. Took a swig and sang along with the radio; some old Tom Petty song. Stepped on the gas a little harder. Had to get home.

And there she was; laying in bed; blankets up to her neck. She was dreaming; talking in her sleep; mumbling about some child they never had. She even named the boy; called him Tommy. He would’ve been ten on that day.

He placed his finger on her lips. Shhh, he said. You’re just dreaming, he started to undress. Go back to sleep, he told her.

The water sprayed him in the shower for a half hour. He was trying to wash away his sins. Asked the Lord for forgiveness. Crossed himself.

His back was to her’s. They did not touch each other. Did not say a word. Just laid there. Neither one of em slept. It was no surprise when the morning sun came through the window.

Coffee was made in silence, toast was buttered. He went to kiss her goodbye and she turned away. He still smelled of her.

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