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By Root 408 0

Thruway I had the wide concrete road nearly to myself. I stayed at the posted sixty and occasionally some fireball would come blasting by, otherwise it was a smooth run with only a few trucks to pass. Just before I reached Harriman I saw the other car behind me close to a quarter mile and hold there. Fifteen miles further at the Newburgh entrance it was still there so I stepped it up to seventy. Momentarily, the distance widened, then closed and we stayed like that. Then just before the New Paltz exit the car began to close the gap, reached me, passed and kept on going. It was a dark blue Buick Special with a driver lazing behind the wheel and as he went by all the tension left my shoulders. What he had just pulled was a typical tricky habit of a guy who had driven a long way—staying behind a car until boredom set in, then running for it to find a new pacer for a while. I eased off back to sixty, turned through the toll gate at Kingston, picked up Route 28 and loafed my way up to the chalet called The Willows and when I cut the motor of the car I could hear music coming through the trees from behind the house and knew that she was waiting for me.

She was lying in the grass at the edge of the pool, stretched out on an oversized towel with her face cradled in her intertwined fingers. Her hair spilled forward over her head, letting the sun tan her neck, her arms pulled forward so that lines of muscles were in gentle bas-relief down her back into her hips. Her legs were stretched wide in open supplication of the inveterate sun worshipper and her skin glistened with a fine, golden sweat.

Beside her the shortwave portable boomed in a symphony, the thunder of it obliterating any sound of my feet. I sat there beside her, quietly, looking at the beauty of those long legs and the pert way her breasts flattened against the towel, and after long minutes passed the music became muted and drifted off into a finale of silence.

I said, “Hello, Laura,” and she started as though suddenly awakened from sleep, then realizing the state of affairs, reached for the edge of the towel to flip it around her. I let out a small laugh and did it for her.

She rolled over, eyes wide, then saw me and laughed back. “Hey, you.”

“You’ll get your tail burned lying around like that.”

“It’s worse having people sneak up on you.”

I shrugged and tucked my feet under me. “It was worth it. People like me don’t get to see such lovely sights very often.”

Her eyes lit up impishly. “That’s a lie. Besides, I’m not that new to you,” she reminded me.

“Out in the sunlight you are, kitten. You take on an entirely new perspective.”

“Are you making love or being clinical?” she demanded.

“I don’t know. One thing could lead into another.”

“Then maybe we should just let nature take its course.”

“Maybe.”

“Feel like a swim?”

“I didn’t bring a suit.”

“Well . . .” and she grinned again.

I gave her a poke in the ribs with my forefinger and she grunted. “There are some things I’m prudish about, baby.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” she whispered in amazement. “You never can tell, can you?”

“Sometimes never.”

“There are extra suits in the bathhouse.”

“That sounds better.”

“Then let me go get into one first. I’m not going to be all skin while you play coward.”

I reached for her but she was too fast, springing to her feet with the rebounding motion of a tumbler. She swung the towel sari-fashion around herself and smiled, knowing she was suddenly more desirable then than when she was naked. She let me eat her with my eyes for a second, then ran off boyishly, skirting the pool, and disappeared into the dressing room on the other side.

She came back out a minute later in the briefest black bikini I had ever seen, holding up a pair of shorts for me. She dropped them on a chair, took a run for the pool and dove in. I was a nut for letting myself feel like a colt, but the day was right, the woman was right and those seven years had been a long, hard grind. I walked over, picked up the shorts and without bothering to turn on the overhead light got dressed and went back out to