but full with snow. He tipped her chin up and kissed her, softly at first, but when she pulled herself against him, he kissed her harder. They stood framed in the false glow of streetlights and the true glow of the moon. When they finally parted, the snow that had been on the fronts of their coats had melted from the heat between them. Mike held her hand for a few moments, and then they were walking again.
They made it to the frame store about ten minutes before closing. When they reached the front counter, Deb smiled at the older gentleman working and laid the parcel down atop the wood. It was tied with twine, and she unwrapped it slowly.
He said, “What can I help you folks with?”
“We want to get these framed.”
He reached over to the parcel to inspect it and whistled when he opened it. Four cheesecake posters from the middle of the century spilled out, women in various states of undress hawking information about long-vanished burlesque palaces.
“Where’d you come across these?”
“Family heirlooms.”
The man looked at her over his glasses and smiled. “Sure. You want to do all four?”
“Please. How much, do you think?”
“You want mats?”
“I think so. Mike?”
He smirked. “Whatever will make them the classiest.”
“Mats then.” The man sighed and rubbed the stump of a long-disappeared pinky across his lips. “Probably get all four done for eight hundred bucks.”
“How long?”
“You stop by in a week, they’ll be here for ya.”
“Sounds great. Pay you now?”
“Pay when you pick it up. Need to get some information.”
Mike stepped over to look at the paints while Deb handed over her info. Inside his chest, his heart was still thrumming from the embrace. He could hardly believe it was something that had actually happened. He could hear Deb talking in a voice that sounded almost as though it were passing through water. Mike placed a hand on one of the racks of fountain-tip pens and took three deep breaths. He steadied himself and looked over quickly at them. Deb and the shopkeeper were laughing about something, but mercifully it wasn’t at his expense. He watched her turn from the counter and wave at him.
“All set?”
“Yeah.”
Mike followed her outside into the wind and snow.
He’d been too quiet, he discovered, when halfway through the walk to her apartment she said, “Cat got your tongue?”
“No. Just thinking.”
“What about?”
“What do you think?”
“It was just a kiss.”
“Really?”
She laughed. “No, at least not to me. It’s OK with me, though, if that’s all it is to you.”
“That’s what I’m thinking about, I guess. It wasn’t anything I planned to do.”
“Are you glad you kissed me?”
“Yeah. I’m just—I don’t know. I’m such a fucking mess.”
“You seem like you keep it together pretty well to me.”
“I don’t feel like I have much to offer in a relationship.”
“Can I decide that?”
“How do you mean?”
“I know there’s a part of you that wants to be with me. Why don’t you let me worry about the rest of you?”
Mike stopped. The snow was coming down harder now and covered her hair. He brushed at it, and she looked at him, waiting.
“Alright.” Mike sighed deeply and said, “Alright, let’s give it a whirl. You aren’t allowed to be mad at me when I fuck it up.”
The mittened hand returned, but this time it was Deb pulling him closer. They embraced again, under a different streetlight, different clouds, but everything else the same.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Other than a few days of gentle ribbing from Lamar, nothing changed for Mike. He and Deb were friends at work, and outside of it they were something else entirely. Lamar had some dating prospects of his own, and Becky always seemed to have some sort of dysfunctional relationship going.
Lamar wasn’t used to long relationships, a month being about the average, but the last one had managed to make it to the quarter-year mark before
They made it to the frame store about ten minutes before closing. When they reached the front counter, Deb smiled at the older gentleman working and laid the parcel down atop the wood. It was tied with twine, and she unwrapped it slowly.
He said, “What can I help you folks with?”
“We want to get these framed.”
He reached over to the parcel to inspect it and whistled when he opened it. Four cheesecake posters from the middle of the century spilled out, women in various states of undress hawking information about long-vanished burlesque palaces.
“Where’d you come across these?”
“Family heirlooms.”
The man looked at her over his glasses and smiled. “Sure. You want to do all four?”
“Please. How much, do you think?”
“You want mats?”
“I think so. Mike?”
He smirked. “Whatever will make them the classiest.”
“Mats then.” The man sighed and rubbed the stump of a long-disappeared pinky across his lips. “Probably get all four done for eight hundred bucks.”
“How long?”
“You stop by in a week, they’ll be here for ya.”
“Sounds great. Pay you now?”
“Pay when you pick it up. Need to get some information.”
Mike stepped over to look at the paints while Deb handed over her info. Inside his chest, his heart was still thrumming from the embrace. He could hardly believe it was something that had actually happened. He could hear Deb talking in a voice that sounded almost as though it were passing through water. Mike placed a hand on one of the racks of fountain-tip pens and took three deep breaths. He steadied himself and looked over quickly at them. Deb and the shopkeeper were laughing about something, but mercifully it wasn’t at his expense. He watched her turn from the counter and wave at him.
“All set?”
“Yeah.”
Mike followed her outside into the wind and snow.
He’d been too quiet, he discovered, when halfway through the walk to her apartment she said, “Cat got your tongue?”
“No. Just thinking.”
“What about?”
“What do you think?”
“It was just a kiss.”
“Really?”
She laughed. “No, at least not to me. It’s OK with me, though, if that’s all it is to you.”
“That’s what I’m thinking about, I guess. It wasn’t anything I planned to do.”
“Are you glad you kissed me?”
“Yeah. I’m just—I don’t know. I’m such a fucking mess.”
“You seem like you keep it together pretty well to me.”
“I don’t feel like I have much to offer in a relationship.”
“Can I decide that?”
“How do you mean?”
“I know there’s a part of you that wants to be with me. Why don’t you let me worry about the rest of you?”
Mike stopped. The snow was coming down harder now and covered her hair. He brushed at it, and she looked at him, waiting.
“Alright.” Mike sighed deeply and said, “Alright, let’s give it a whirl. You aren’t allowed to be mad at me when I fuck it up.”
The mittened hand returned, but this time it was Deb pulling him closer. They embraced again, under a different streetlight, different clouds, but everything else the same.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Other than a few days of gentle ribbing from Lamar, nothing changed for Mike. He and Deb were friends at work, and outside of it they were something else entirely. Lamar had some dating prospects of his own, and Becky always seemed to have some sort of dysfunctional relationship going.
Lamar wasn’t used to long relationships, a month being about the average, but the last one had managed to make it to the quarter-year mark before
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