Page 23 of Sexting the Cowboy
What are you doing tomorrow between ten and ten-ten?I ask.
Patching up riders,she says.Not meeting you.
I grin.Worth a try. What’s your favorite song to drive to at night?
Odd question. My answer might be odder. Pat Metheny’s Last Train Home, or Miles Davis’ Blue in Green. And break glass in case of emergency, Take Five by Dave Brubeck.
A jazz fan? Be still my beating heart.
Laugh emoji.Them’s fighting words to a doctor, mister. What’s your night driving song?
That’s a hard question. I can either go with the mandated country music picks, or the real answer. But I did promise her honesty, so…
If I’m trying to relax after a long day, it’s old roller rink music. The Cover Girls, Nu Shooz, Rockell. If I’m trying to stay awake,Lil Sims, Busta Rhymes, Missy Elliot. Anything with a good beat.
No song in particular?
I can’t believe she didn’t call bullshit on my answer.Rebirth of Slick covers both needs, so probably that.
You’re so old.
I chuff a laugh at that.You’re the one listening to classic jazz that’s older than me.
Fair point. Go-to breakfast order?
Coffee, black. Bacon, burnt black. Eggs over easy, and enough toast to make me feel like a person again. You?
Huevos rancheros, eggs either scrambled or over medium. And coffee until my brain is working on the higher levels.
I like chatting with her, but eventually it’s time to call it.Been a long time since I didn’t want to get off the phone with a woman, but I think it’s past your bedtime, young lady.
Yeah, I should sleep,she says.And I don’t want to get off the phone either.
I stare at the hat on the dresser. The brim has sweat lines only I can read. Tomorrow will be another crowd, another gate, another set of seconds that take ten years off me and give me back nine. I should care more about that. I don’t. This is old hat. My body knows how to do it. My mind does too.
She’s not a distraction. A woman like Annie doesn’t throw me off my seat. She makes me sit up straighter.I’ll text you tomorrow.
Maybe…
Don’t ghost a cowboy. We’ll send a posse.
Terrifying.
Sleep well, Doc.
You too, Silver Fox.
I sit with the phone in my hand for a long minute after the screen goes dark, listening to the room breathe. Then I set it on the nightstand face down, take off my shirt, and slide under the sheets. I close my eyes and see a lemonade stand, condensation on her cup, the shade of my hat on her face, and the way she tried and failed to hide a smile.
7
ANNIE
Morning starts gray and slow,like the sky doesn’t feel like trying. Samesies.
Every muscle in my body complains when I crawl out of bed. I don’t even bother with makeup—just twist my hair up, shove on my scrubs, and drive toward the tent before the coffee shop opens.
When I get there, Jaden’s already inside, singing off-key while unpacking supplies. He grins when he sees me. “Morning, sunshine.”
