Joan Kelly - Hungry for boys

The sound of the key in the door shamed me into running for the bathroom. I locked myself in and scalded my feet getting into the tub.

"You home, Shelb?" It was Jackie, rattling a paper sack.

"Yeah," I managed to get out. I was not in good shape. I turned on the shampoo spray and directed cold water against my pussy. It shocked me breathless, but I held it there until I felt cooled down some. Then I turned it warm and wet my face and tits. What the hell had happened to my high-flung plans of getting my head together?

My Volkswagen made the mountainous ascent to Holdenville without too much trouble. I was so relieved that I treated the hot little bugger to a fresh quart of oil and put him away underneath a big cottonwood at the side of the store. I let myself into the shop with the key Maurice had given me and tossed my purse on the glass-topped sundries case.

"Shelby! I'm glad you're here." I jumped. Mr. Lomax rose from behind a mahogany chest of drawers. He had a rag in his hands. "I was just puttering. Dusting a bit here and there."

"I didn't see your car."

"Todd and Warren have it. They had some things to pick up at the mercantile." He smiled apologetically. "The boys were adamant that I bring them up with me for some fishing. Especially Todd." He gestured with his head towards the back rooms. "Todd stays in the small room usually, but I told the boys that Warren should have it this time. Todd can sleep in the bunk in the shed." He smiled broadly. "And this is only if you approve of putting up with them, of course."

"Warren? You have two sons?"

"Oh, how stupid of me." He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. "I just forgot to mention it, that's all. Yes, Warren is Todd's half brother. Catherine is Warren's mother."

I was still at a loss. "How old is Warren?" I felt like biting my tongue off.

"Eighteen two months ago." He saw me doing some mental calculation. "I married Catherine when she was twenty-two. She became pregnant light away."

I was still figuring, came up with thirty-six give or take.

"She looks very young for her age," I said, knowing I wouldn't look that good when I got to thirty-six.

"Yes, she's a very beautiful woman." Maurice had said it matter-of-fact. He glanced around the shop, walked to an old desk.

"Have you decided about the boys?" he asked. "It really won't be for more than a week. They'll be tired of fishing by then."

"Oh," I said, remembering, "I don't mind, really I don't."

"Like I said, I've made it clear to Todd that he sleep in the bunk in the shed." Easy laugh again. "He's the noisy one. I know that Warren in the spare room won't intrude much. He's a quiet boy."

"Todd is your son by your first wife?" Again I wanted to bite my tongue, but I had grown more and more curious of Maurice Lomax's background.

"Yes. She had Mexican blood. Todd is very light in spite of that." He looked at the ceiling as if he might be glancing back into the past.

Outside the Eldorado pulled up in a cloud of dust.

"Well, the boys are back. I must be getting back to the city." He hugged my shoulders. "If any problems come up, please contact me at the number on my card. Your sales ledger is in the drawer behind the counter. There's nothing to running an antique shop really except reading what people might be looking for." He laughed.

I was watching Todd and Warren pull their gear out of the trunk of Maurice's car. Packs, canteens. Some fishing gear. As soon as their father said goodbye and drove away, they straggled into the shop. Todd introduced me to Warren. He was a slight, reddish-blond boy with his mother's wide mouth and delicate features. He glanced shyly up at me. The look was reminiscent of Jackie's brother Scott.

"Glad you don't mind us staying," Todd said. He looked as if he were on the verge of winking at me. Impudent shithead. I knew I'd been nutty to smile at him after that asspat a week before. Warren came nowhere near his half-brother's six feet, but he did come within an inch or two of my five-seven. Slender, untanned arms. His shirt was unbuttoned down the front like his Todd's. When the boys dragged their gear back towards the rear, I caught the unmistakable odor of marijuana on Todd's clothes.

I grabbed a Coke, sneaking looks at Warren in the small bedroom that opened off the kitchen. His expression was very serious, like he might be going off to fight a battle the following morn.

"You fish a lot?" Innocent enough question, I thought.

"It's okay." Warren didn't look up from whatever he was doing. "Mostly I like to be in the woods. Todd is the one who's crazy about fishing."

He looked covertly at me and went ahead shoving fresh clothes in a drawer.

I went back to the front of the store, took my place behind the counter and started going through the inventory list. I felt good inside, really good.

Before noon I had two customers. Six more came in the afternoon. At four-thirty I decided that things wouldn't pick up any more that day and closed. The sales amounted to one not-very expensive teacup and a pewter ashtray. Not much, but I felt like I was a part of things, part of the antique business. The boys weren't around so I fixed myself a sandwich and a bowl of soup and unloaded my bags from the Volks. Then I wandered down into Holdenville to look things over.

It wasn't much, even less than first met the eye. Many of the storefronts were boarded up or hung with homemade signs… closed. I got a bag of necessities at the market and talked with the nice, elderly storekeeper. I thought of how he was probably about the same age as Maurice Lomax and yet looked infinitely more frail.

On the way back to the shop, I stopped at the Blacksmith Bar and picked up a half-pint of tequila and a six-pack. It was smoky and cool inside. A couple of Chicano boys looked at my legs (tan below cut-off jeans… jeans just long enough to hide my scorpion) and looked back to their pool game.

One rangy cowboy gave me a whiskey wink and tapped his cigarette lighter against the bar. When I didn't acknowledge his attention, he winked again. He was awfully good-looking… and probably just as dumb as his home. I paid and hurried back down the empty, broken sidewalk to the shop.

It grew cool as the sun dipped below the surrounding peaks. A shot of tequila and a lemon made me sleepy, the can of beer knocked me out.

Still no sign of the boys, but then I wasn't supposed to be their nursemaid. I shucked everything but my panties and climbed in bed.

The noise in the kitchen woke me up. Laughter, a girl's high-pitched giggle. Refrigerator door banging. More laughs. I flicked on my bedlight and took a look at the time. Eleven.

With a blanket around my shoulders, I shuffled barefoot down the hall towards the light. Everybody shut up when I stopped in the doorway. Todd, Warren and a girl. Her hair was stringy and tangled long over her shoulders. She had a fat joint poised in her fingers and her eyes had that slap-happy flat look of being stoned.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Lorrie." Todd appeared somewhat sheepish, waved at me with an equally stony expression. Warren got up and pushed his chair under the table.

"I'm going to bed," he told no one in particular.

"Yeah, why don't you go to bed, Warren." Todd yukked it up until Lorrie quieted him with a look. Todd's eyes scanned my bare legs, the curtained edge of the blanket. "Want to get high, Shelby?" I noticed that his hand rested on Lorrie's thigh.

"I was asleep." Not mad or overjoyed. I didn't know how to be really. Warren glanced at me, quickly averted his eyes. I smiled at the group. "Guess I'm awake now."

"Dad never opens his shops before ten." Todd thought this was particularly funny. He took the joint from Lorrie. "So you don't have to worry about getting up early, right?"

"Your father told me ten-thirty." I smiled back into his impudent face. I wondered where he'd found Lorrie, how she was managing this night out. She didn't look much older than Warren.