King of Hearts

Players
Patricia Meyer


"Pete, Alanna thinks she knows men," Nick said sliding his hand down her back and letting it rest just where her bottom met the barstool.
"You think you know yourself pretty good too I bet," he added with a squeeze.
"I know I'll never settle for a man I'm not madly in love with," Alanna quipped and scooted forward.
"That's bullshit?" said Nick eyeing the game on the big screen TV at the end of the bar.
"What?"
"You settled at 19. The hottest thing in this place and you up an' disappeared for two years, for what? Uh I don't know getting knocked up by an old fart maybe."
"No, you asshole, I didn't." Sometimes she hated him. "Ok maybe I did settle, cause I love my daughter, but damn, I was 19 and fucking living like a 30 year-old-housewife. Yep, I signed my life away, but damn straight I got it back, amen to that." She raised her martini glass to Pete stocking beer behind the bar.

Nick had stopped listening. It was the fourth quarter, third down, the clock was running out. The Razorbacks needed 5 more yards for a touchdown and Joe Dimitri, the star rookie, was throwing the game-winning pass.
"You're not listening to me are you Nick?"
"Alanna that's Joe, that's my..."
"I know," she lowered her voice and slid her thumbs under pretend suspenders, 'that's the guy I signed last fall'."
"Yep, sure is," said Nick running his hand over the red silk tie hanging loosely around his neck, his attention held on the 4th yard line.
She thought he looked more 35 than 25. Nick was still a little better looking than the average guy. He had sandy blonde hair, dark mystic-blue eyes, and a light Italian complexion. Alanna thought it was probably those "innocent eyes" that made him such a successful sports agent. His eyes made people believe in him, and if he told a player he believed in them then that's all they needed to sign the dotted line. Alanna was a bit more skeptical.
"So you don't think the right man will ever come along Alanna?"
I doubt it Pete," she said leaning over the bar so he could light her cigarette.
"Looks like you and Nick have become quite a habit."
"Yeah it's a habit all right, a bad one," she rolled her eyes toward Nick and tried to remember why she started sleeping with him in the first place. Perhaps it had been that he looked a bit like Nick Cage or one of those movie star brothers. He didn't anymore. Nick, had wanted to keep their relationship, "simple" and Alanna was initially more interested in the image of the flashy connected sports agent than with the man himself, so the arrangement had worked out well for them both.
"Yes Alanna your becoming quite a habit," he smiled, turning away from the television just long enough to run his fingers eagerly up the small of her back.
"I'm as hooked to that sweet body of yours as you are to those cigarettes." Alanna exhaled a long stream of smoke to the ceiling and feigned deafness.
"Look at this hair, these emerald eyes, a chest as full as a sunken treasure." He brought a groping hand to the side of her breast.
"Your beautiful baby," he toyed.
Alanna knew she was beautiful and she frothed with self-esteem. She worked her beauty and personality like tools. When she wanted, she could sweep men off their feet and at other times, when she didn't care so much, scare them off quickly.
A pile of burger bags in the front car floorboards , random coffee cups on the dash, the lost and molded french-fry in the car seat and oh yes, the overstuffed ashtray usually did the trick. Alanna thought it was sometimes better to let them leave, cause they just couldn't handle what a slob she was, than to tell them she just couldn't find an attraction to them. Those were usually the poor nice guys who worshipped her and who she, although she tried, just couldn't help but find boring. As for her Romeos, she always made a point to ride in their cars.
"When I start keeping my car cleaned out, I'll know I've found the right man," she often laughed to friends.
She had been a confident outgoing child. The fire in her eyes had ignited in childhood and still burned. Alanna believed dreams came true, for her, they always had.
Nick had turned back to the game and Pete continued to pick Alanna's brain about her ideal man. Pete, of course, had a personal motive.
"Fate and fortune will bring him Pete," she said.
"So its fortune Alanna? How do you define fortune? A guy with a two ton wallet?"
"Oh please Pete you know me better. Good fortune Pete is a long walk on a sunny day, a poem in your heart, meeting an old woman in the Laundromat that tells you her version of the meaning of life. That's good fortune."
"So what's the old lady's scoop on the secret of life?" Pete asked.
"Pete," she smiled, "I'll tell you when I'm an old woman. But I'll know it when I meet it. Without a doubt I'll know it."

Alanna has always aspired to life and expected the best of places, people and predestination. Her childhood wishes came true; she had wished for small miracles and they were granted.
She prayed for breasts and her prayers had been well received. Somehow though she felt these "gifts," among the many other things worked against her. Men like Nick were drawn to her as surreptitiously as her dreams. Seeing the best in people had often led her astray. At 23 she was divorced and mother to a four-year-old daughter. It had been a tough road those first two years, yet she easily found a good job at a publishing company and was finally back in college. That was a good start but relationships, had never been easy.
Alanna gave relationships her all. Her all, that is, until she felt her efforts weren't appreciated or reciprocated. Otherwise, because she believed people just don't change, she took all she could take then got the hell out.
That's precisely what Alanna planned to do this evening. She was tired of being Nick's nice easy piece of ass.
"Hey wanna meet later for drinks and whatever," he asked earlier that evening on the phone. Alanna knew what "whatever" meant. 'Yes we can get loaded and fuck tonight Nick,' that's what I should have said when he called, she thought sipping her scotch and pretending to listen to Nick tell Pete about Joe the star rookie he signed, and the pro baseball career he lost when he got injured in college.
"Ready to go Nick? she asked with a signal to Pete who was happy to be saved from another of Nick's self inflating stories.
"Yeah I guess," said Nick, "it's pretty dull in here tonight."
"Nick it's a Tuesday night, for some reason you've been too busy to see me on the weekends remember."
"Now Alanna you know how the business I'm in is. Weekends are essential when it comes to networking with free agents."
"Whatever Nick, am I going to fuck you tonight or what?"
It was more of a statement than a question. Alanna watched Nick pull his wallet out to pay the tab. She thought of how he used her and then pulled on his pants and said something like 'thanks that was great and see ya later.'
She smiled at Nick and grabbed his arm as they left. He comes then leaves, a regular wham bam thank you ma'am as the saying goes, she thought. Not tonight, Nicky boy, she thought deliberately biting back a smile.
***
The streets in downtown Dayton were soggy with a dreary fog that often rolled in from the gulf in springtime. Alanna greeted the lamppost on the corner. That clock had sat atop that post since before she was born. It was her own personal night watchman. A night rarely went by that "Old Ben" didn't tell her when the fun was over and that it was time to go home. "Old Ben" she called it.
"Hey Nicky, Old Ben says we should go to your house this time," she said with a secret wink to Ben.
"Agreed," said nick, "see ya there."
"Sure see ya soon," she yelled and she crossed the street to her car.
She lightheadedly swung around the faded green post. As her fingers slipped, she stumbled back and looked up to the glowing face of the clock. "Well Ben, hope you had a nice night, you'd be the only one."
The drinks had left her dizzy and the humid night air made her feel sticky all over. She thought about just heading home, but she was pushed to do this one last time.
"Your pretty pathetic, out on a Tuesday night and your a mother, you slut," she mumbled fumbling for the keys.
There was little room for romance and it helped that she had let go of 'those childish fantasies' as she often put it. Dating and sex were simply escape routes from the responsibilities she carried through her complicated, often overbearing life. But sometimes even the sex became a burden. Occasionally it lulled her fears, rarely it healed her wounds.
"Oh my god your so hot tonight Nick, do this to me every time, just like this," she wailed on top of him. Nick lay in his bed writhing and contorting his body beneath her. Alanna watched from above. God men look like monsters during sex, "Tell me who's fucking you Nicky, tell me who's fucking who," she demanded. "You are baby, your fucking me," he gasped back in short breaths. They'll say anything too. I could ask him to fuck a goat for me right now and he'd agree. "Who is?" she demanded. "You are baby, you are."
"That's right Nick," she laughed bringing her hips grinding to a halt. "Thanks Nick that was great." She threw her legs over the side of the bed and fumbled for her clothes in the dark. "What's up? What are you doing over there," he asked, pulling her back to him. She pushed his hands away , "I'm leaving Nick."
"What, leaving, why? I didn't finish?" The whiny disbelieving tone in his voice made her shiver. "Why, cause I'm finished Nick, it was great though, thanks." She nonchalantly blew him a kiss from the door way. "Your up kinda late tonight. Better get some sleep, with all those free agents waiting for you in the morning. Oh and Nicky, now you know how it feels to be left, oh how do you say it, hanging, or in your case should we say standing."
She left with the perfect picture of whiny Nicky sitting in bed, holding his erection through the sheet. You deserve it asshole, she thought as she crawled into her car and headed home.



"The only thing that will change me is Mr. Right," she quirked to girlfriends who questioned her peculiar view of dating.
"You know Alanna you treat men, like most men treat women," said Michelle after hearing the Nicky and his dick story over coffee. "Well you know, I've tried too many times. I throw everything I've got into it and come out with nothing, zilch. I finally just got to the point where I figured, go in expecting nothing at least you won't be hurt or disappointed when that's what you get."
Alanna shifted her eyes to a well dressed man stepping into a Mercedes. "Better to screw them, before they screw you Alanna?" "Yeah I guess so, but what happened Michelle? When did all our childhood dreams die ?
Michelle tossed back her sandy blonde hair, slid down in her chair and looked up to the sky, "Maybe we killed our dreams when we believed they'd come true."
Alanna twisted her eyes upward. Seeing nothing but sky, she focused back to the darker depths of her cup of coffee. "Michelle I remember when I was a little girl swinging in the park, I thought, 'the man I'm going to marry is out there somewhere. He's a little boy right now and could be from any country in the world. But I know that from today every thing we do and everywhere we go will someday fall together like puzzle pieces and someday those pieces will bring us together.'"
"The most wonderful part was that you actually believed that," said Michelle tapping her watch to remind Alanna it was time to get back to the Publishing house. Alanna squashed out her cigarette, "You know, she said, "I still do."


* * *
"The pieces just don't fit Sara, I've tried every way I know to put this thing back together but every time I think I've done it, it just falls apart."
"Christ you'd think this was the end of the world for you Ethan," said Sara standing over him as he sat at the kitchen table.
"You know how much this meant to my Mother Sara," said Ethan tossing the broken pieces of the terra cotta vase aside.
"Ethan you can be so dramatic. I wish you cared so much about our marriage."
"And that means?"
"It means that grotesque thing your mother gave us for our 3rd anniversary reminds me of this damn marriage."
He eyed a small, broken piece and noticed a portion of the love birds that had once been painted on the vase.
"See Ethan, it's falling apart as we speak," said Sara tossing one last fragment into the pile.
Ethan put the piece along side its apparent match and ran his fingers through his hair, Hear we go again, she's off, he thought.
"Sara please not again, not the day befrore I leave. You always start this the day before I leave. I don't need this when I'm flying."
"Give it a rest Ethan, just stick it in it's little hole and forget it like everything else, you're good at that aren't you?"
Sara marched around the table angered, folding and unfolding her arms as she always did when she was "at wit's end."
"Ethan, you could care less if that vase or our marriage ever holds water again. All you care is that it sits nice and pretty on the shelf, so when mommy and daddy, or any other of our so called friends, comes to visit they can see what a wonderful little piece you've got. And you know damn well I'm not talking about terra-cotta Ethan. I'm talking about us."
"Stop the psycho-analytical bullshit for once Sara," he said risinf from his chair only to find himself moments later leaning exhausted against the nearby window sill. The sun was setting and Sara couldn't help but noticed the red and purple hues reflecting from the window to his face. But this argument wouldn't be settled like the ones before where attraction to her handsome husband overcame her need to finally resolve some serious issues.
Ethan sensed her gaze. Look at her even now she's thinking of fucking me, he thought smiling a surley smile.
"Fucking me tonight Ethan won't make this go away, you arrogant asshole."
Being married to a psychologist came with the drawbacks of her knowing him all too well.
"I should have payed your way through psychiatry, " he muttered putting a hand to his head. "At least then you'd be able to prescribe some drugs for the damn headaches you give me."
Her hands flew up in exasperation. His words were missiles on target. 'Friendly fire,' she called it.
"Ethan, can you live one day of your life without reminding me of how you saved me from my 'simple past and hopeless future'? This is a marriage Ethan, or have you forgotten again how many times I have sacrificed my career so that you, my savior, can fly your damn jets all over the world, Sir, Captain Sir!" Sara slammed the door to her study disappearing behind it.
"Here we go again, no matter where we start it always ends the same, think we would figure something out after five years, " he said shouting through the intercom connecting her office to the living room.
Ethan walked through open French doors leading from an expansive southwestern living room to an equally expansive patio, complete with swimming pool, jacuzzi and pool-side bar. The surrounding deck reached far over the side of Miner's Mountain. He stepped out to breath in the cool evening air. The Mexican tile chilled his feet as he stepped up to the railing. He could sense the heavy deck daring the cliffs bellow to give way, pull the support beams from beneath it and send it tumbling down.
What excitement he and Sara shared when they first saw the blueprints on the place. Ethan's dream, was now a hollow edifice, a place he pressed himself to call home. This place. He and Sara. What had happened? An awesome house with a beautiful view, a powerful job in the Air Force, and a marriage to his first love. Those were his dreams, life wasn't supposed to get much better.
'Still missing something,' he whispered squinting down at the jagged rocks below. Intimidating introspection, lead him back inside where an even colder climate awaited.
An hour later the door opened to Sara's study. Sara, curled up securely on her old leather couch from college, didn't speak. She knew the large traveling bag on Ethan's shoulder meant he was leaving. He didn't look at her as he walked acoss the study and tossed the broken terra cotta into the cold hearth of the fire place. "You can burn them when your ready," he shrugged. "I've given up on the whole damn thing." Sara stared at the hearth, remembering the last winter night they shared before it. Moments later the roar of his motorcycle echoed from Canyon Road.
"Go ahead Ethan leave, you'll be back, you always come back," she said knowing he was off to another show, another town and perhaps another woman.

***
"No I'm not a member, but I'd like to work out."
"Sure no problem," 'said Tony faking a smile. "Name Sir?"
"Flanigan."
"You got a first name?"
"Maybe," said Ethan, "I suppose it depends. Does it really matter?" "Not really sir." "Then I guess I don't."
"Well Mr. Flanigan enjoy your workout."
"That's Ethan Tony," he said reading his name badge, "You can call me Ethan."
"Yes sir," said Tony holding an ever hardening smile. Tomorrow I'm telling them I'm never working behind this damn desk again, cocky asshole.
Well look at that, what have the Gods sat before me? Alanna heart beat faster as the staranger boarded the climber next to hers.
"You dropped your card," he smiled, handing her the order form which slipped from the magazine she was so intensely pretending to read.
"Oh thank you, it looks as if I did." Then silence.
"What kind of comeback come-on line was that?" she chastised herself. He had her flustered.
Well I can't just let him walk away. I've got to try. At least try Alanna. When your an old woman you'll be sitting in a rocker thinking of this man, hating yourself for not trying, she thought.
As the digital readout peaked at level 9, she was gasping . The five minutes left on the machine demanded that she say something, and say it fast.
"I have never filled out one of those cards, I think they are such a nuisance."
"You what?" he asked, unsure if she was speaking to him.
"I, uh, oh nothing. This is the first time I've seen you here. Are you from out of town?"
"Yes, I'm here for work," he said, stepping slowly, with an occasional glance to catch her eyes.
"Oh what kind of work?"
"I'm doing a flight show, I fly planes."
"Wow, what kind?"
"A10's."
"So how'd you get to fly a plane like that? She said, unsure what kind of plane he was talking about.
"I fly fighter jets, I'm a Captain in the Air Force.
Alanna drew a breath, making a conscious effort not to look too impressed. "So where are you stationed?" she asked casually.
"I'm originally from Texas, I'm stationed in New Mexico. I went to school at UT in Austin."
"Really UT, I always wanted to go there, my father is a big fan?"
"Yeah so is mine, my father and grandfather attended as well."
"What'd you major in,"
"I earned an Engineering degree, I worked a few months and hated it, then I decided to join the Air Force. What about you, are you in school?"
"Yes, I'm working on an English Degree, but I don't want to teach," she emphasized, "I want to write."
"Well I'm living proof you can do anything if you want it bad enough."
"Believe me, I want it and I'm used to getting what I want. You know I've lived most of my life here. This town can be a lot of fun if you know where to go. You should go out tonight and look it over." Could that have been any more obvious Alanna, your trying way too hard here, let up, now!, she thought.
"I might just do that, but actually I was wondering if you knew of a good place we could get a nice meal?"
"You want to go out for dinner?"
"Yes"
"You know a good restaurant?"
"Oh my gosh, yes, uh, I'm sure if I think for a moment..."
The words in her head drowned out the words she was speaking. She was triumphant.
"Yes I did it, he asked me out! This incredible man, He asked ME out!"
Entertained with her stammering, he laughed, "I'm sorry, I meant 'we' as in myself and my partner Lane over there."
He smiled watching, her face turned a deep shade of red.
"Oh gosh, I'm sorry, how silly, of course you meant you and your partner," she apologized waving her arms in Mike's direction, she folded them, then unfolded them nervously. It reminded Ethan of Sara and the terra cotta argument from the night before.
"Well even so I know a great seafood restaurant on 45th I would be more than happy to recommend," she said making a graceful transition.

As her climber beeped telling her it was time to get off, Ethan glanced at the flashing readout, "Five miles, wow, how long have you been on that thing?" "Oh, about 35 minutes." "What level?" he was impressed. "Nine," she smiled. "Wow, I guess you would know a stranger in this place if you saw one," he said, convinced that her come on line had had some truth in it.
"Yeah pretty much," she stood in front of his machine stretching her legs. She stopped to stare obviously at him. The man heaving away on the machine, was tall and slender yet muscular. He had a wide smile and strong white teeth. She watched sweat drip from locks of dark wavy hair to drop down to a broad forehead. Morsels of moisture rolled over prominent cheek bones and followed the curvature of a square jaw down to the chin where they fell to a gray muscle shirt. The picture of herself catching those salty drops with her tongue flashed in her mind.
"I come from a long line of thorough breds, my father won the Kentucky Derby in 1960," he said breaking her trance.
"What?" she asked, pretending to be caught off guard. "I know what you were thinking, What is your name by the way?
"Alanna, she replied. Nice to meet you ..." "Ethan," he returned.
"Nice to meet you Ethan, so what were you saying about thorough breds?"
I was saying, Alanna, that you were looking me over as if I were a horse on the auction block." Still stepping, Ethan turned the machine to a slower pace. "I know what you were thinking," he said with a his fingers to his chin, "Handsome breed, slender but muscular, good definition, great teeth..."
"Is it good for horses to sweat a lot? she playfully interjected.
"Yes I think so," said Ethan, "My father always did and he won..." "Yes, I know," laughed Alanna, "The Kentucky derby in 1960."
"That's right," smiled Ethan. "But endurance?" questioned Alanna tapping her finger on the face of the stairmaster, "Does this horse have endurance?"
"What do you think?" Ethan smiled his trademark smile. "We'll see how long you can stay on," she giggled and turned across the gym to begin her abdominal exercises.
Will we? smirked Ethan charmed but shocked at what a match she was. That girl has charisma, he thought watching her walk away, and an ass to match.
Releasing a crunch, Alanna was startled to see Ethan dripping with sweat above her. Your even sexier from down here, she thought.
"I want to assure you that I didn't mean to mislead you when we first met, about dinner you know, and I would like to make it up by meeting you out for drinks later." She smiled, What is it about me that says I'm not worthy of a real date. Then, although she already had another "half date" that night, she promised to meet him at 9:00 downtown. Steve would definitely wait
The night to follow would prove that Alanna's heart was not as hardened to the forces of passion as she thought. Although she surrendered her sword to fantasy on occasion, she most often kept it raised high and on guard. The sword she had swung so foolishly at the loins of many a man would only truly be taken by one. He would possess the same unspoken capacity for passion, dreams, and danger as she. They would escape the reality of life and live in thier own world of passion and adventure for a life time. She knew it was a childish fantasy, but it was a nice one.
In the locker room, she showered slowly thinking of how Ethan had watched her stretch, how they had laughed together, how he smiled at her, and how she would later meet him for drinks.
He somehow made her feel different and it wasn't because he was gorgeous. Alanna had dated plenty of truly handsome men. There was something about him that made her want to know everything about him, not just what it was like to be in bed with him, but who he really was, his beliefs, his fears, his dreams, even his faults and his failures.

"Hey where you off to," Tony asked, sitting short
and stocky hidden behind the tall front desk of the
club.
"Well Tony, take a guess why don't you," she dared.
"Girl I know enough about you to know there ain't no
guessing where you're off to or what kinda trouble
you're plan'n."
"Thanks Tony, thanks a lot, for your info I'm going
out with that man right in there."
"What man babydoll," asked Tony pushing his chair
from around the desk to get a good look.
"That man," she said pointing, "the one who came in
with the other guy, he's not from here, he's a pilot,"
she beamed.
"A pilot well, well looks like Miss Alanna's moving
up in world."
"Yeah and it's about time Tony. You didn't think
I'd date bartenders and bodybuilders forever now did
you?" she said pinching a chubby Italian cheek and
laughing.
"Boy Alanna I knew you worked fast but damn that's
like lightening speed. You always get what you want?"
"Yes Tony usually," she countered turning to leave.
"Well I'll have you know, you ain't getting lucky
tonight babydoll cause I'm gonna tell him to keep his
fly-boy hands off that sweet body, you got it," he
shouted to her.
"You do that Tony," she said halfway out the door.
"But tell me something, you just said I usually get
what I want right? So what's going to stop me this
time? We know it won't be you," she coyly grinned, then
stepped out the door.
The door swung behind her as she left. Tony watched her through the glass, Ouu Wee that girl, what a girl, sweetest thing I've ever seen.
"She's something isn't she?" said an admiring voice behind him. Tony turned his eyes from the parking lot, startled to find the "fly-boy" enjoying the "departure of Alanna" right along with him. "Who uh, oh you mean Alanna, yeah uh, she's, well, she's a little bit of everything all right, " he stuttered as he watched Alanna step into a small, late model, sports car.
Ethan watched Alanna as well. "You don't want to do it Ethan, you really don't, he thought watching her drive away.
"Alanna ain't nothing to be played with dude," said Tony concerned about the thoughts that seemed to be lurking behind the pilots fiery gaze.
"Damn her" said Ethan with a disconnected expression, slamming a fist to the desk. Tony jumped. Ethan smiled, and walked back to finish his workout.
"That girl sure can pick them," said Tony flexing a bicep in the mirror, "What's up with Pilots anyway? Like they're God or something."

***

The large face of "Old Ben" read thirty after, she'd give him five more minutes. If he didn't show, so what, she had a backup date set for later anyway. He soon arrived but almost missed her.
"Hi Ethan."
"Oh hello, how are you," he said with a deep, gentle tone. His voice didn't carry the cocky intonation Alanna expected from a such a handsome, accomplished man.
"I told you you wouldn't recognize me, she said noticing the sweet musk of his cologne as he gave her a very polite hug hello.
"You smell very nice for a thorough bred," she complimented.
"Well, you look very nice as my new owner," he returned.
"Who said I bought you yet?"
"Oh so there's a chance I might have found a new owner?" he toyed back.
"Well I don't know if I can raise the funds to purchase a thoroughbred," she countered.
"Okay, so, I ran away from the stables tonight to sneak away with you, how's that."
"Great so now your calling me a horse thief, next thing I know I'll be hanging from the tree your grazing under."
"Enough Alanna, okay you got me, I give, how are you, you look great."
"Thank you, I have a hot date tonight," she said playfully.
"Oh really, well what a coincidence so do I," he laughed.
Alanna laughed too. It was especially funny to her considering she was supossed to meet Steve at 11:00. But Steve was a just another Nick. A date with Steve is like having Velvetta cheese and grape juice for dinner. Ethan however, suddenly brings on cravings for baked Brie and a nice glass of Chardonie, she thought admiring the composed, self assured, fashionable man beside her.
And it was here the games began. Amid the smooth conversation and overt flirtations the two players made their moves, each determined to be the victor. Yet the difference between them was obvious.
Like an old-time chess whiz, anticipating his opponent's strategies and planning his moves well in advance, Ethan could have said Check Mate on his first hello. But like the novice, whose bear determination and unlogical strategy can sometimes catch his opponent off-guard and rattle the best of players, Alanna would present a new brand of challengers. The difference, while Alanna played for the challenge, she also played from the heart. Ethan would teach her the game, she would teach him a new way to play it.


"This is Lane my flying partner," said Ethan introducing her to the man just showing up to join them.
"Nice to meet you Lane, enjoying the island?," she asked.
"Yeah, its O.K.," he said eyeing a woman stepping up to the bar."
"Target at you're ten o'clock," he loudly whispered over Ethan's shoulder.
"Pilot talk," Ethan explained with a wry smile and a cool look to Lane."
"He's got pilotitiss," he said in a vain attempt to explain his friend.
"A regular top-gun huh. I guess that explains the bomber jacket?"
"Yeah, I've got one too, but I don't like to wear it out to clubs. It's a chic-magnet. Lane loves it though."
She saw Lane was a stocky, arrogant, sort of man. The type which believes himself to be so much more than he is, and wondered how Ethan got on with such a fellow. After a few minutes of observation, she rightly concluded that Lane had only two reasons for becoming a pilot: A plane with which to fly above others and a jacket to disguise his fears. But Ethan seemed different and she was anxious to find out why.
She was experiencing a real connection with the stranger who twisted his way into her life that sunny weekend. Like a summer storm, disheveling all it touched, then disappearing as quickly as it came, in one weekend he would tear the tight wrapping from her heart, let it breath and make it ache.
(put first evening out in here, lots of pillow taks elevator)

During dinner he knew she had ordered too much but he had loved indulging her. "Don't worry I'm sure we'll get around to eating it later," he reassured her when after only a few bites of linguini she found her stomach was too nervous to hold any more. They were both feeling the wine and were very anxious to be together alone. Later, in the evening they returned to the room to spend their second night together. Alanna, however, found herself not in the company of the polite gentleman she met the night before. This night Ethan was playful, teasing and passionate.
Ethan darkened the room and opened the drapes to reveal the moonlight over the gulf below. They sat silently in darkness sipping their drinks.
"I think I might still be a little hungry," he said gently picking her up and setting her on the small table in front of the wide picture window. "Why don't you help me set the table?" he whispered softly, gently lifting her in his arms.
"You are a delicacy aren't you?" he laughed as she offered him her fingers to kiss. Unbuttoning her blouse then sliding it gently from her shoulders and down the length of her back, he kissed her suddenly, forcefully, then he retreated reluctantly back into a tender seduction.
Moonlight lit her quivering body as he laid her across the table and to her delighted surprise, emptied the take out container of linguine onto her soft, supple stomach.
Bending over her, he pulled and nibbled and sucked at the pasta, which ever so often he fed to her, like a mother bird dangling a fresh worm to a nest of hatchlings. Her breasts swelled with each erotic lick, suckle, nibble and bite.
"Are you ready for dessert" she asked, watching him carefully lick up the last bit of marinera from her perfectly erect nipples.
"Dessert?" He questioned. "This my dear is just an appetizer, we have many courses yet to come."
In just a few days he had changed the way she viewed her world. A strange sort of cosmic connection existed between them. It sounded cliché when they spoke of it, but they both felt that startling vibration destined lovers feel when they first meet. A sparkle, an explosion, a flickering light, something that goes off in the soul and makes one think "Have we met before, have we loved somewhere else, some other time, and if not then, perhaps tomorrow, or next year, or next lifetime.
(put sunset and pyramid scene here)

Somehow, in the space of three days he had made her complete, he birthed in her a new faith in life; constructed a new understanding of how the world worked. A fresh perception of herself, of her own potential to love and a true simple faith in her own abilities blossomed within.
Perhaps, she thought, he was her guardian angel sent from heaven to remind her of herself and all the things about herself that she somehow forgot or let fall by the wayside.
Regardless of who he was, where he came from or who sent him, she knew she would never forget that powerful man, the enchanted weekend they shared, and the impact he made upon her. She knew she would store his memory as a source of strength and happiness to be drawn upon throughout her life, to be demonstrated in her every endeavor.
She had tried to contain the tears but finally she sobbed, hidden in the tall grass, lost under the disheveled sky, thankful she was in a place she could simply let go. Those old folks are going to think I have lost my mind if they see me like this.
She looked over at the retirement home that looked to Alanna as if it had been unjustly and intentionally built up the hillside alone and apart from the rest of the world. They have been here, they know. They have lived and felt these feelings. They would say such things are worth the pain. That weekends like this one are worth the pain and remembered forever. Someday I'll be really old and look back on this day and think of how far I still had to go. How young, and vibrant my life was. How sweet it was to be in this place and time in my life. That I should have been thankful. I hope I can grow to be old knowing I never chickened out on life and that I took the risks and really lived. Someday I'll know won't I.
Crying till there were just no more tears to cry, she finally attempted to pull herself together, clear her head and reason with her emotions. What was it about him that made her feel so wonderful, yet so overwhelmed ?

Pulling herself up from the grass Alanna sighed, "But sometimes things are better left just as they are. Still, it's not every day one meets their true soulmate just to let them leave and not even ask if they're ever to meet again." Empty and exhausted, she walked dizzily back to her apartment, laid down and begin writing in her journal.
Ethan - Your image struck me as unattainable, beyond me, something emulated from you, actually from me that told me he's beyond you, admire him at a distance. But you spoke to me, you smiled at me, and I was overwhelmed by something more than our brief surface conversation. I felt the urge to be very forward, to grab hold and beg you to let me show you a night on the town. I did and you agreed.
Little did I know that this morning I would be sitting in a field watching the most wonderful thing anyone has ever done for me. The most beautiful good-bye. Like a silver bird, my Captain flew across the sky leaving a trail of smoke and tipping your wing you kissed me from the clouds. I sat there holding the moment. I watched until your silver jet was gone. Then my eyes traced the long strands of vapor over and over again, until the wind blew them away and dried my tears. Yes, I am crying, because I just dont know if I will ever see or hear from you again.
(put him calling her and trip to Austin here, include, excitement over the trip, finding out about Sara)

Yet she did see him again, only once. It had been a year since that wonderful weekend in Austin, and this time she was different some how. She knew him better, he knew her better. A years worth of conversations on the phone, shared dreams and serious confessions had changed what was once simple. A sweet dew-covered lust had somehow become a foggy union of passion and unwarranted desire. It didn't even seem real, seeing him again, and she was more anxious over the matter than truly excited.
The evening of November 15th Alanna packed her bags quickly, arranged for someone to watch her daughter and left immediately to meet him. Stopping a moment to review her herself in the full length mirror beside her bed, she saw the same woman. Her auburn hair was still one length, but it was longer now. She still had the full shapely figure that became her small frame of 5 feet four inches, but she questioned if she had grown a bit soft. It had been several months since she had exercised regularly. But she was pleased with the image she saw.
.Speeding down the dark, empty highway, she popped in "the" CD, the one which brought back all the bitter-sweet memories of Austin and that first weekend they met in Dayton. Usually it only pained her to listen to their songs, but tonight the words would have meaning again. And she sang.
"I can feel it coming back again, like the roll of thunder chasing the wind, forces pulling from the center of the earth again, I can feel it!"
Blood rushed through her veins, pumping her body with adrenaline and she sang on in disbelief.
"No-smoking please, and I'll need a wake up call for 7:00 thanks."
She left the front desk of the hotel and stepped back out to the car, which she had cleaned meticulously.
Ethan had suspicions she was a slob but he never fathomed the actual degree. The interior had never shined or smelled so nice, like herself she thought. When she knew she would see him she always cleaned her car, and had her hair and nails done. Actually the only time she ever had her nails done was when she was going to see him and it tickled her that he assumed she maintained perfectly sculpted nails. Actually the car was always a mess, her nails bitten down, and usually she didn't wear make-up. In reality neither of them were exactly as the other perceived them to be.
.However the night she met Ethan she had agreed to give him a ride back to his hotel lest lose him to Lane who left the scene early. This of course was not a high point in the evening, as Ethan crunched What-a-burger bags under his feet and tossed out a half full root-beer. It was at this point that Alanna first realized how devastating the stench of old onions can be on one's image. She would soon learn from Ethan that the way one pictures themselves to be and the way the rest of the world sees them are often two very different things.
In a particularly playful mood she pulled into a corner store and bounced out of the car.
"Good evening, I need a bottle of wine and a cork-screw, think you can help me out?"
"Sure lady, got a hot date or what? asked the clerk in a manner that struck her as a little too nosy.
"You don't want to know how hot," she thought, yet indulging his curiosity she casually replied, "I'm celebrating. Tomorrow I'm going to see a very special man. I haven't seen him in five months."
With a curious smile which appeared as though the balding clerk himself was considering the potential temperature of a date with this young woman, he at last answered her question.
"No cork-screws, you better go with wine coolers or champagne."
"Then champagne it will be!"
She paid the man, then returned to her hotel room. She opened her Journal and began to write:
"This is real. It's really happening. I'm so close to seeing him. Tomorrow I'll be in his arms. This is not a dream and It's not going to end like my dreams, with him just out of reach. This time I will be able to smell him and hold him and remember him again. But what will I say? What will we do? Will we make love? God I want to make love to him. Yet I've got to respect the place he's at with all this. He didn't really say we wouldn't but he never really said we would. All I remember is pleading over the phone, "Ethan I don't care I just want to see you again to be in the same room with you, face to face. Let's just eat lunch, but yes I want to see you no matter what."
"No young lady, I know you better than that," he insisted. "You'll say whatever you think you have to, cause you know that once you get me down there I'm putty in your passionate little fingers."
"Well that's not my fault now is it?" I answered him. "But I promise I'll follow your lead and believe me I sincerely don't want you to do something you don't want to do Ethan, okay?"
So that's what I said. What did we decide? I guess I'll know by tomorrow won't I."
Remembering their conversations word for word and replaying them over and over in her head, then transcribing them in her journal had become second nature to her. She often worried that she might become obsessed with him and she easily understood and pitied those who had unfortunately allowed the objects of their adoration to get the best of them. She would never give Ethan the pleasure of knowing he was obsessed over. If the time ever came that they would never see each other again she would deal with the loss appropriately and move on. "Friendship," she preached to herself, "is what this relationship is based on, nothing more." Anyway, she found comfort in knowing that Ethan had promised her they would always keep in touch and he would always be there for her the best he could.
She set the Journal aside and ran a hot bath. Pouring a glass of champagne, she sunk deep into the steamy water. She watched the bubbles rise round her breasts, envisioning Ethan's hands cupping them gently, his thumbs stroking softly. Then, tipping the glass just so, she poured a river of champagne down the valley between them. She pictured his mouth open beneath, like a delta eagerly receiving the river's offerings. She could almost feel his warm tongue lapping at the sparkling river on her chest.
Her hand slid under the water and she touched herself just as she remembered he had touched her, with long, gentle, strokes, so soft she almost couldn't feel them. Submerged in her fantasies, she didn't want to stop the pleasure she ignited beneath the surface of the water. However, she decided to wait for the ultimate pleasure she hoped would come the following day.
She crawled into the large, empty bed and thoughts of roaring passion swirled in her mind and tensed her limbs. Oh tomorrow, just wait till tomorrow, she thought and slipped into a deep sleep.

(Trip to Austin)