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right tit against his arm.
The Girlfriend Curse 57
Ray shifted in his seat. He said,  Okay, I m officially dis-
tracted.
 What s the name of this place? she asked.  The Last Re-
sort for Romantic Misfits?
 Inward Bound, he said.
 No wonder everyone thinks it s about sex, said Peg.
Chapter 8
x
|
The trip ended three hours later in White River Junction, Ver-
mont. Peg s next stop, after a fifteen-minute taxi ride, was the
Subaru dealership in Manshire, where a brand-new Outback
was waiting for her. Peg got her driver s license only a week ago.
A city kid, she d always taken the subway, cabs, or walked. She
was looking forward to operating heavy machinery. She just
wished that, on her maiden voyage, she weren t so tipsy.
The car salesman had her fill out the paperwork, fork over
her credit card, and then walked her onto the lot. She tried to
focus on his recitation about the past week s weather patterns,
but Peg s mind drifted like a log on phloem back to Ray Quick.
His kisses were spicy (from Doritos) and hot (from heat).
They d made out for the last two hours of the train trip. No
need to talk once they d discovered their mutual defect. Why
talk anyway, when their mouths were put to better use in
other ways?
They held hands exiting the train, had to pry their lips apart
at the station. He asked,  Are you going straight to your farm?
Can I call you there? I ll sneak off. Whatever I have to do.
 I m not hooked up yet at the farm, said Peg,  but I can
give you my cell.
They programmed each other s number into their mobile
phones.  Reception is spotty in the mountains, Ray cau-
tioned her.
c
60 Valerie Frankel
 Take my address, too, she said.  Come over, if you can
make a break for it. She scribbled her address on the back of
his train ticket.
He looked at the writing.  You live on Old Dirty Goat
Road? he asked, slaying her with his smile.
 Better than Young Dirty Goat Road, she said.  Those
young dirty goats, they throw wild parties. Drink. Do drugs.
Listen to rock-and-roll music.
 From what I hear, the old dirty goats are just as bad, he
said.  In these heah parts.
 Is that a Vermont accent? asked Peg.  Do it again.
He cleared his throat, and said,  If you don t like the
weathah, wait an houah.
They giggled. She said,  You ve had quite enough Gatorade
for one day.
He did the accent again  I reckon  and then planted an-
other smooch on her. Peg dropped her suitcase on the ground
to put her arms around his neck.
He pulled back.  Where were you three months ago? I
wouldn t have signed up for Inward Bound.
 The program is just four weeks, she said.
He looked down at her, toffee eyes sweet and gooey.  I
can t wait that long to have you, sending Peg s heart racing.
 You ve got five gears, and reverse, the Subaru dealer said
loudly, breaking into her thoughts. He was giving Peg the
spiel.  This is the remote. You can lock and unlock the doors,
turn on the ignition, start the heater, even switch on the CD
player. It s a nifty little gadget. I tell you, they get more ad-
vanced each year.
 You don t have to sell me, said Peg.  I already paid. Un-
less you need the practice.
He stopped abruptly.  Here it is, he said.  Two-thousand
five Subaru Outback, fully loaded, standard transmission.
Metallic black.
He dropped the keys into her palm.  My first car, she said
The Girlfriend Curse 61
wistfully.  So I put the key into the slot, and twist to turn it
on, right?
The dealer nodded, and said with all earnestness,  Gas
pedal on the right. Brake in the middle. Clutch on the left.
 I know, I know, she said.  I was trying to be funny.
 What s funny about not knowing how to drive?
 Nothing, she said.  Just a little sarcasm.
 Sarcasm? said dealer, as if it were an alien concept.  Oh,
yes. I ve heard they do that in New York.
Clearly, they do it in Vermont, too, thought Peg. She got in
her car, checked her mapquest directions and drove. She got
all the way out of the lot before she stalled. Then she cruised
down Manshire s Main Street four blocks, with a white
steeple church, a general store, a post office, a restaurant, an
inn and a bookstore. Another few miles down a paved road,
then a left (stall) and a right. At the turn for Old Dirty Goat
Road (stall), the road changed from blacktop to graded dirt.
Peg thought of an old New Yorker cartoon: an illustration of a
car on a highway, passing a sign that read,  Welcome to Ver-
mont. Pavement ends. She drove along the road narrowing
into a single-lane squeeze under a canopy of elms, maples and
oaks. Queen Anne s lace, black-eyed Susans and wild daisies
dotted the ditches on the sides of the road. Peg drove slowly,
getting a feel for her new car, watching butterflies and drag-
onflies flitting by the flowers. Peg came to a full stop (slam on
breaks, stall) to avoid hitting a deer and two fawns in the road.
She watched the furry family disappear into the woods, her
heart thundering from nearly killing them. She d have to get
used to living so closely with animals. But that was how the
world should be, she thought, getting the car back in gear. Hu-
mans and animals, co-existing, sharing the Earth s bounty.
Peg smiled to herself. Moving was the best decision she d ever
made. She could feel herself shedding the artifice of New
York, the overcivilized pretentiousness that defined city life.
Bring on the deer. They d become her prancing pals. Feral
62 Valerie Frankel
pets. She could leave out food for them in a dish on her porch.
This is heaven, or Eden, she thought as she turned into her
gravel driveway, which was exactly where it was supposed to
be, 2.39 miles from the turn. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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