"Yeah, a year ago." "Hm, how long have you been staying out here?"
"About 4 months, since April."
"It's really beautiful." Taylor stood, smiling, almost sadly. I held my hand out to him.
"Want to go see it?"
After introducing Kris and Taylor we rooted around the downstairs laundry closet, trying to find a stake so that Julian could stay out on the lawn. After a half hour of cleaning the whole thing out we found the stake and were in business. Kris excused herself, making up a silly lie that she had to get up early in the morning, and we were left together in the kitchen. All light chit chat aside, the room became cold with silence. It wasn't that late yet, I realized as I looked at the kitchen clock. I looked to Taylor who for once, looked nervous. "You're hungry."
"Well, uh, if you are." His cheeks grew slightly red.
"I'm starving, and your stomach's growling. Ever have fresh crab?"
"No."
"Let's go out, my favorite restaurant should still be busy now." He smiled, the conversation had been saved. I ran upstairs, grabbed a cardigan sweater and after sprinting full speed down the stairs, almost ran into Taylor. Our hands brushed against each other with a casual speed. It felt like numbing prickles against my hand. I hadn't touched him for so long, the touch was so painful to my chest, it reminded me of what I had been looking for beneath my past lover's sheets, and never found. Then it was gone, and Taylor was speaking of how he wanted to drive.
"What?" I had lost a couple seconds in his last words.
"I want to take you, but I gotta get Julian some chow first." With that he turned and was gone, fetching his dog's dish.
Within fifteen minutes my seatbelt was on, and Taylor was revving the engine of an old, black sleek machine that minutes before had been in my dirt driveway. I lowered my car window and breathed the night air in, feeling the moisture droplets cling to my lungs. My hair blew behind me as the car gained speed on my private road. My eyes opened to see the tops of the carefully planted rows of pine pass by, creating a blur of steel green and rich navy blue, the stars flew by like snow white Christmas tree lights. The metal beneath my arm had a good feeling, Taylor had a love for it, it had brought him luck, I knew it. I turned my head slightly, Taylor's eyes were on the road, his ease with the wheel, stick and foot was at a liquid perfection in his movements. His eyes dodged from the road to me. I opened the glove compartment, and taped spilled out with the speed of a waterfall and onto my lap. My hands picked through sea of cassettes, some labeled, some with a scratching of pencil which I couldn't read, and some were completely lacking any kind of ID. My hand grabbed a grey tape with a label, after holding it up to my window, to try to catch the remaining light, I caught three letters, REM, and shoved it into the car's cassette tape's mouth.
"That's 'Automatic for the People'" Taylor's voice was calm. The tape was almost finished, I fast forwarded through 'Man on the Moon' to my favorite song on the album. Michael Stipe's voice gracefully broke and grew stronger with the powerful chords of the piano, the orchestra strings creating the red velvet backdrop to the childhood memory of water and night. "You like this song?" I nodded.
"Nightswimming, that has to be the most romantic song ever sung, hands down." Taylor remained quiet. We drove to the crabhouse without anymore talking, except for direction giving.
Fueller's Crabhouse is by far the most popular restaurant in town, there was a tiny indoor dining room, and a huge, covered deck attached onto it. There was a live band, too loud, a couple middle aged guys doing covers of classic rock, I winked to them as we passed. The place easily became packed from Friday to Sunday night. The tables were simple wood, with the only thing gracing the table tops was a paper towel holder, salt and pepper. Our waitress led us through the thick crowd of bodies becoming filled with good beer and fresh crabs. Little kids, so past their bedtimes that they had the crazy night energy in their veins ran in the aisles of tables, weaving their way out of the waiter's and waitress's ways, screaming with laughter. I caught young teenagers sharing a look of new adoration from across a long table, filled with older, oblivious parents. The girl's eyes met the boys with strength while he shyly looked back, not believing her boldness. The warm lights on the beams of the tented deck gave the illusion that it was lighter out to the eaters. Beyond the dock's side railing, there to behold was the pitch black Chesapeake Bay. The joyous, random mess of crab shells and innards were eagerly strewn on the tables, which were covered with thick brown paper. The mess created was fantastic, mothers opened the hot crabs for their toddlers, carefully removing the bad parts for the eager youngsters that licked their fingers and reached for the tender meat. Our waiter led us to a back table, not in the middle of the loud conversations between college students and energized parents. Just as our waiter was about to give us menus, I raised my hand, smiling. "A dozen and a half softshells, and a basket of seasoned fries. A Shirley Temple for me, and a Dr Pepper for him." The waiter winked at me and disappeared.
"How did you know to get me a Dr Pepper?" Taylor looked confused.
"You had a couple cans of it in the backseat." I smiled.
"Am I going to like this?"
"Taylor, you have not experienced seafood the way you will tonight, that I promise you." In the soft lamps, his blue eyes were merry, sparkling at mine. We held the gaze until the waiter came back, bearing the drinks. I slowly sipped the sugary sweet drink, alcohol was not going to make me forget tonight.
"So, how long do you have off?" I questioned him off handedly, half expecting to be let down. Taylor's eyes brightened proudly.
"As long as you want."
"You're serious?"
"Yeah, we just finished touring, Zac and Ike are in Tulsa now, for how long, I don't know. Ike got married, and he lives just outside of Tulsa, Zac's seventeen now, I think he's thinking about moving out soon. The last time I talked to him he was thinking of taking a vacation by himself, I think he needs to get away for a while. We've made our peace, Hanson is still moving, but not with such craziness now, we're more in control of where we go and when. So I'm taking time off, period, we've written most of the new album on the road, so we're covered for a whiles now."
"That's good." I sipped my bright cherry drink.
"You came to a show." My drink almost went down too fast and I sputtered, coughing. Taylor reached for my arm. "Whoa, you okay?"
"Yeah, fine, god, you popped that one on me pretty fast." I smiled and coughed again. "Yeah, I did, uhm, well, I wanted to see you." My eyes did not meet his.
"You could've called."
"How? Ring the fan club," my voice grew high pitched and sarcastic. "'Hi, my name is Lane Bronte, yeah the poet person, I had sex with Taylor, can I talk to him for a minute?' Somehow I don't think that would've worked. It's not like you tried."
"Fine, you've got a point, but Lane. . ." The pain in his eyes that I had seen in them when he talked to me in the driveway returned. "I didn't think you wanted me." I found his hands and brought them in mine, squeezing and bringing them to my lips. I kissed the back of his hand, smelling his skin. Hot tears fell onto his hand.
"I think I might out do you on the dance floor, I'm trained girl."
"You're ON!"
Our hands intertwined, still quite gross from the crabs, the seasoning under our nails and our palms slippery from the butter. We ran to the main deck where the band was playing and began a mock waltz. Laughing, a crowd drew as did impressions of old, 50s dances and jumped around on the old, complaining wood. Soon people joined us, cheering the dancing couples, we traded partners and started square dancing, amazed that most couples knew how to. We all sang along and cheered as the song ended. We found each other in the crowd and just as we turned to go back to the table, the band started up again, slower , with the guitarist's notes hopeful. 'Here comes the Sun' came through, we started lip synching the song to each other, slowing our feet and growing closer. Taylor's face was flushed and glowed, his eyes danced, darker in the lower light. As couple around us still managed a steady pace, we slowed. Closer. I could feel his breath on my hot neck, warm and moist. I was aware of every cell that touched him, God how I missed this. The same butterflies that had appeared when I had first seen him suddenly had little butterflies, and my stomach felt as if it was about to fly away. He still made me nervous, the good kind, when you shake with adrenaline and complete adoration. His grip tightened slightly and our bodies were held back by two layers of cotton. I smelled his shirt, his smell made me want to crawl into him and stay. That musk, mixed with a faint scent of sweat and sex. I moved my pelvis closer to his and I heard him draw his breath in.
"God, you move me." His strained whisper in my ear made the position move to a even closer feeling. I moved my head to look at his eyes, my eyes began to tear again, I fiercely held them back.
"I'm sorry." My voice was quiet, I swallowed with a struggle and looked into his eyes.
"You did what you had to do, I'll never completely understand it, but..." his voice faded and eyes dropped. I lifted his chin with my grainy hand, still full of the salty seasoning. His eyes were almost a blackish blue in the dark light. Like the bay at sunset, that colour , letting go of all guards put up to protect himself during light hours with strangers. He had always done it for me, and I never noticed, until now. Our lips grazed each others, then to a stronger connection, break, then Taylor's lips were on my own, his hands in my hair and my grip on his body was a python death grip. As we separated, our breathing was hard, pain in both of our eyes. So much time we had been apart, so much to try to make up.
We made our way back to our table in a daze, tacit words changed everything. Our waiter came back with a fresh face of reality. He asked for dessert with a polite tone.
"Key lime pie." Taylor and I said our orders in unison. The waiter smiled.
"You guys married or something? Pretty damn good telepathy you got goin' on."
"Uh, no." I smiled up at him. I pretended not to notice Taylor's critical eyes on me.
As my head slowly sank into my pillow, I closed my heavy eyelids. I laid there, unable to speak, everything under my skin felt horribly tired. I let my muscles relax and go slack, I opened my eyes to see Taylor above me. Smiling like a goof.
"What are you doin' there mister?"
"My stomach is filled with crustaceans Lane." He giggled uncontrollably, his laugh was catching and soon we both were rolling on the mattress that covered ancient walnut. We tried to catch our breaths, giggling.
"I gotta say hi to 'em." I reached for his shirt, lifted it up and gave his stomach a raspberry.
"You nut!" He grabbed my shoulders and laughed. Our legs and arms were a tangle on the crimson bedspread, my legs felt weak with every touch. The wrestling held on for a while, just enough to prove that I was better at it. Though I think he let me win.
"Pin. Advantage Lane." I let out an evil laugh.
"Okay, you can kick my ass, point made." I laughed, then realized what position he had really put me in. "Well now, I knew it, you can't stand it, can you? Straddling me already." I didn't know whether to move or not. Taylor's hand went to my hair, and I removed my legs from his waist and laid next to him. Silence.
"What?"
"I dunno. I just don't know." I paused, thinking. "It's so different now. I kept on thinking, after I left, 'Well, what if we'd never been together that fast, I could still have him now. Maybe it was too early.'"
"No, no way, it would've happened anyway. Seriously, it would've happened, if not then, then probably the next time we would've seen each other."
"You're so sure?" I looked over to him, smiling.
"Laney, I am never going to let you out of my sight again." His face was serious, lips pursed. "Never."
"Okay." I whispered, and brought his hand to my lips.