Part 13 (2/2)

I said, ”I'll have to hide them.”

”Del doesn't party at all anymore?”

”Not at all.”

”What does he do with himself?”

”He found religion.”

”Oh, Jesus.” June laughed. ”Well, don't worry. That will never rub off on you, Vangie. You're as f.u.c.ked up as I am.”

”I guess.”

”Well, say 'hey' to him for me.”

”I will,” I told her, though I had no intention of saying her name. Luke was into his second shot of Jim Beam when I nodded to him. Then I was out the door.

On the way home, I did not let myself think about anything except the road. It had been a long time since I drove high. After a couple miles I rolled the window down all the way, took the three joints from the car seat, and held them up over the car so the wind would take them. I guess I could have saved them for a rainy day, but I wanted nothing to do with the kind of comfort or stupidity they brought. I didn't want anything she gave me.

I knew I was angry with June, but it was hard to think through all the reasons. I didn't like what she'd said to me, and I didn't like what she was doing out at that house. It all seemed so easy for her. The two of them in love with her, and her just taking it all in, like it was her due. And to top it all off, bringing me into it, too. f.u.c.k her, I thought.

I didn't know if Kevin f.u.c.ked her when she was a kid or if she was still trying to live out that story, but I was done trying to a.n.a.lyze and understand. I didn't care why she was with Ray and Luke, I didn't care that she used to think about kissing me. I didn't want to be part of it anymore. That was clear in my mind as I drove the black roads home.

THAT NIGHT when Del came home from the three-to-eleven s.h.i.+ft, I was already in bed. I was still high, but I'd washed the marijuana smoke out of my hair. I was such an old hand at pretending to be straight, I knew I could blame any oddness on being tired.

When Del slid into bed behind me, his skin felt warm and damp from his shower, and I knew if the light was on, I'd see where the shower had turned his skin red. He didn't say anything and neither did I, but as he settled in behind me and draped one arm over me, I reached back for his c.o.c.k, which was smooth and warm from the shower. I could feel him go alert, but he still didn't say anything, and I kept grasping and holding until he was hard in my hand and I could run my palm over him and play with the hard-soft ridge of his head. I did that for a while, and then I let go so I could turn in the bed.

”I thought you were sleeping.”

”I'm awake now,” I said.

I kept pulling and tugging, and soon there was a little bit of wetness at the end of him.

I said, ”Can you tell I want something from you?”

”Can you tell I want to give you something?”

I moved my legs apart then so he could get his fingers up into me, and we lay like that, each of us working the other.

”I want to open you up, Vangie,” he said then, and I knew what he meant. It always hurt a little when he did it, but I liked it, too.

”Can I open up your p.u.s.s.y?”

”Go ahead, honey,” I said, and I stopped touching his c.o.c.k and lay facedown on the bed and let him pull a pillow under my hips.

That night, just like the other times he tried, he could only get his hand inside me up to his knuckles. His bones wouldn't give and neither would mine, no matter how much jelly we used. But he'd get in far enough that he could rub the muscles deep inside me, by my cervix, and the whole thing would hurt and feel good at the same time. It hurt to have the bones of his hand pus.h.i.+ng into me, and it felt like my skin was raw from the rubbing, but I loved being touched so deep inside.

”There's the nose,” he said, because that's what my cervix felt like to him, and he kept touching it with the tip of his finger.

”Make yourself come, Vangie. Open up for me.”

I had to push up against my own weight to even get my hand between my legs, and then I had to hold myself up a little on one shoulder so I could rub. It made the blood pound in my head, but I knew it wouldn't take me long to come, so I did it.

When I was close, I said, ”I'll come on your hand.”

”Do it. I want to feel it.”

I came hard. Del kept his hand deep in me for some of it, then he got inside me as fast as he could so he could feel the last bit on his c.o.c.k.

”I want to put some come right up there,” he said. ”Right up there.”

It felt like the inside of me was on fire, and when Del started to come, I felt it before I heard him. I could tell by the way he grunted and shook that he came hard, too.

”Those are some strong muscles,” he said when he was done, when we were just lying there. ”You made my hand ache.”

”You made the inside of me ache,” I said.

”Was it too much?”

”Almost,” I said. ”Just almost.”

He didn't say anything about a baby or me going off the pill, and I didn't say anything about his G.o.d talk. That night I needed a f.u.c.k hard enough to make me ache, and Del gave it to me. What he got from me I couldn't say, but for the moment it seemed that my body and heart were enough.

26.

THE next morning was Wednesday, so I did not have to work at all and Del did not have to work until three. We were asleep when the knocking started, and it took me a while to even hear it, because I blended it into my dream. Sometimes my dad came by for a cup of coffee on the mornings he knew I was going out to the market, so I figured it was him and that he'd forgotten my days off.

”Who the f.u.c.k is it?” Del said when he saw me pull the bedroom curtain aside and look outside.

”My dad. Go back to sleep.”

I pulled on my red kimono, and that's when I looked at the clock. Five a.m. Early even for my dad. And then I figured something was wrong, and I got wide awake, just like that.

”I woke you, didn't I,” my dad said when I opened the back door.

”It's all right,” I said. ”Is everything okay with mom?”

”I a.s.sume so. I haven't heard from her.”

So my heart stopped pounding quite so hard. I stepped into the kitchen so my dad could come in and close the door. The morning air was cold on my ankles. I had no idea why he was there at five in the morning, but for all I knew he'd been up all night drinking. You never knew with my dad.

”Coffee?” I said.

<script>