American Masculine by Shann Ray

Author:Shann Ray
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-55597-032-1
Publisher: Graywolf Press
Published: 2011-08-17T04:00:00+00:00

“HOW ABOUT YOU and Shannon come over this Thursday,” John said. He was keeping things even, family first. “Katherine and I will barbecue some steaks.” His suit coat was draped over his arm, and he was leaning over the drinking fountain as he held back a tie with a nice sheen to it, broad stripes of blue and gold, his face turned to the side as he looked at her. He’d been thinking of her more lately. Today she was stunning. He took another sip, then stood upright and said, “We’ll start at five. The kids can play. Then we can go over the account analysis and get a preliminary report done for the Friday meeting.”

He has a nice face, she thought, an unworried face. He thinks I’m pretty. She was wearing the flared sundress Shannon liked, a sheer lavender flower pattern over a cream silk slip, fitted in the bust and flowing elsewhere, a playful slit at the knee. She had taken her time this morning, worn her cream bra and matching cream panties, the cream stockings she’d bought last weekend at Herberger’s when Shannon had given her an hour’s break from Jessica. Looking at John in the narrow hallway in the gold light of the afternoon, she felt sleek and high in the rear like the young fillies prized at rodeos, the way men eyed them from a distance, the two-year-olds with reddish coats or brown, the high-legged, heady animals that carried themselves like they could run for days. She was five foot five; she felt six feet tall.

She took the moment, and pushed it. “Why not, John?” she said. “You don’t live forever.” She walked past him on her way to the drinking fountain, purposely bumping her hip into him.

“Oh.” He smiled. “I see how it is.”

She laughed, then took a drink as she spoke into the chrome tray of the machine, “Not worth packing up the files though, too unruly. How about we do the barbecue, then come back here and work for an hour or so.” She kept her head down and took another drink, waiting.

“An hour?” he said.

“Maybe two,” she said softly. She was awed by the half reasons and intentions that made her dead with Shannon but light as a butterfly with John.

“Maybe.” He held his hand out, a playful gesture, and inviting. He smiled. “I guess that will work.”

“Okay.” She laughed and put her hand in his. “Your place on Thursday, then back here.” She liked touching him. She liked how his hand conformed to her fingers.

They parted, and she worked late. Shannon had to call her twice before she could give him a time she’d be home. He was reminding her of a dessert party they were to attend at the college president’s house, up on the edge of the rimrock that lined the northern limit of the city. A beautiful home, she remembered, tall windows facing a field of lights, the city, the dark band of the faraway river, and the southerly plains black in the distance.

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