Chaos and Control(34)

“So, what’s stopping you?” I ask.

She shrugs and looks out over the water. “Guess I’m too old now, huh?”

“You’re never too old for anything. You should do it. We should do it!”

“Matching tattoos?”

“Hell, yeah! You want to?”

Bennie gives me a grin. “Maybe.” Glancing back at the art on my body, she grins. “It really is beautiful.”

“Thanks,” I say, taking a seat next to her and stretching out on the blanket. “I dated a tattoo artist for a few weeks in Austin, Texas.”

“He talked you into that in just a few weeks?” she asks.

“He was very convincing.” I give her an exaggerated wink and slide my shades down over my eyes. The sun warms my skin as I stare up at a cloudless sky.

Bennie pulls a book out of her bag and lays on her stomach next to me.

“I’m sorry about last night, kid,” she says after a few minutes.

“It’s no biggie. I figure you owe me a few of those. Remember when Sawyer and I got so drunk we passed out in the store? We couldn’t even make it up to my apartment.”

She chuckles. “Yes. I found you two cuddled up on the floor by the front door.”

“I swore off drinking that morning, but I guess it didn’t stick.”

“Not many things stick when you’re seventeen.”

I shade my eyes and turn toward her. Bennie’s face is serious, and she looks at me like she thinks I’ll be gone again tomorrow.

“That’s true. I thought I’d be rich and famous by now.”

“You mean infamous,” she corrects.

“That, too.” I laugh and nod. “What do you think Preston is up to today?”

“He spends most Sundays in the workshop.”

“Hmm,” I answer, making a note to check out that space at some point. I wonder if I could talk him into letting me watch him work.

A group of guys walks by, all toned and tanned. They’ve got big smiles for me. One even waves. I nod back, remaining indifferent to their attention.

“Man, boys that age didn’t look like that in my day. They were all skinny with big hair and stonewashed jeans.”

“How come you’re still single, Bennie?”

She folds her book closed, her index finger inside marking her spot. “I don’t know. I guess I just never found anyone who really got me.”

“My guess is you would have to look outside of Crowley to find that,” I say.

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just a lonely soul, looking for love in all the wrong places.”

“If you break into that ridiculous 1980s Johnny Lee song right now, I’m going to throw your book in the lake.”

Bennie clutches the paperback to her chest protectively. “You wouldn’t!”

“I would.”

“Oh, all right. I won’t sing. But, that was one hell of a soundtrack. Don’t you think?”

I flip over and untie the strings of my top, tucking them beneath my body.

“The soundtrack to Urban Cowboy? No. What I think is that you have a huge crush on John Travolta, even when he plays a sexist man-pig cowboy.”

“I won’t deny that.”

“Aren’t you hot in all those clothes, Bennie?”

“No, I’m comfortable. And I’m an old lady. Nobody wants to see this in a swimsuit.”

I pull up onto my elbows and frown at her. “What is it with you and age? You’re forty-two, not dead. Fuck everybody else. I say do what makes you happy.”

Bennie eyes me, and a sly smirk pulls across her face. “You mean like flashing your tits to everyone at the lake?”

I look down and remember that I’d untied my top. I drop back onto the blanket as we both burst into a fit of giggles. We laugh until we are breathless and there are tears in our eyes.

When the clouds do show up, we lie on our backs and play our favorite old game. The sun is still up when we leave, so I put my shorts back on, but stay in just my bikini top. I leave the window rolled down the whole drive back. My arm hangs out the window, and the wind blasts my eyes closed. I smell like grass and sunshine.

At the top of the stairs, Bennie makes a joke about me flashing my boobs out at the lake, and we laugh again. Around the corner, we find Preston leaving his apartment. Bennie walks right past him as he locks his door and tests the knob six times. When he turns to find me standing there, his expression changes. Those eyes scan my body and stay fixed on the tattoo visible above my shorts.

“Hi, Preston.”

He looks edible in all black—jeans low on his hips, belt, vintage button up shirt with white piping, and boots.

“Hey,” he answers. I see him swallow, and his fingers twitch. Other than that, Preston remains motionless.

“So, I missed you last night. I had to get drunk Bennie home all by myself.” I look toward her door, and she’s already slipped inside and disappeared.

“Sorry,” he says. “I was…busy.” His gaze is still fixed on my ink.

“Remember the list, Preston.”

“I’m not lying.” He finally meets my eyes, and there is obvious panic.

I take a step toward him.

“Did you come by early last night?”