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Friday, 29 November 2013

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“It’s starting to die down,” Neal noticed, and pulled himself up. He laid another log on the fire, and blew at the hot coals to stoke the flames. Soon he moved in next to Rachel and she pressed against him, curling her legs up beneath herself again.

“So tell me something,” Rachel snuggled her head into his shoulder, and Neal put his arm around her. “Why is a lawyer out here in the woods like this on a vacation? Shouldn’t you be somewhere on a beach, getting tan with gorgeous naked women around?”
“Are you sorry I’m here?”
Rachel shook her head sullenly. “No. No, I’m definitely not. I was just curious why here? Why didn’t you go to the tropics, or someplace else wildly lavish?”
“Here,” Neal gave her a gentle squeeze, “is where I feel at home. I like the tropics, mind you, and the naked women -- although I didn’t entirely miss out on that here – but it’s the forests and lakes and rivers that make me feel alive.”
“They scare me to death,” Rachel volunteered.
“They’re dangerous,” Neal conceded. “Most beautiful things are. But haven’t you ever just looked at a lake or mountain or even just the sky and felt like you were somehow a part of it?”
A tingle of realization shot through her chest as she remembered the gurgling brook. She nodded. “Yes,” she said simply. She stifled an exhausted yawn.
“So why don’t you have a girlfriend, or a wife? You’re not gay or something, are you?” Rachel probed.
Neal shook his head with a chuckle. “I’m a bit gay around Christmas, but otherwise no.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “I was engaged once, almost married.”
Rachel looked over at him. His deep eyes were wet. “What happened?”
“She passed away,” he choked, then covered his cracking voice with a quick cough. “It was a car accident.”
“I’m so sorry,” Rachel gasped. “I had no idea.”
He managed a brief smile. “It was over a year ago,” he explained. “It’s not something a person just gets over, but I do manage to deal with it. But it’s what has me questioning my work now.”
“How’s that?”
“She was hit by a drunk driver on her way home from work one night. The drunk was okay, of course, but Angie, my fiancé, was hospitalized in critical condition for days before her body gave up. I was devastated.”
Rachel rested a calming hand on his strong thigh. “I can imagine.”
“The thing is,” he went on, “the other driver had been arrested for driving under the influence just a couple of months earlier, but a defense attorney got him off on a technicality. Had they taken away his license for that offense, maybe Angie would still be around.”
Rachel looked back at the fire. “But you’re not a defense attorney, right?”
“No,” Neal said. “But a lot of what I do is to try to keep corporations out of trouble when they do something negligent or damaging. Is what I do any better?”
Rachel sat in silence for a few minutes. “Do you have any other family?”
“My parents live in New Mexico, near Roswell, which explains some of my oddities but not all of them. I have an older sister who’s married and living in San Diego, and a younger brother living the bachelor life still at home with our parents.” He shifted himself uneasily. “And that’s about it. How about you?”
“So you’re the middle of three children?”
Neal chuckled. “Yes, I am. Does that say something about me?”
Rachel shrugged. “Probably. But I’m not sure what it would be.” She sighed, putting her head back on Neal’s shoulder. He tussled playfully with her hair. It felt nice.
“I’m an only child,” Rachel finally answered his question.
“And that’s why you’re so strange?” Neal teased.
Rachel looked up at him, her head still on his shoulder. “Do you think I’m strange?”
“I was only kidding,” Neal assured her. “Let’s face it though, everyone is strange. It’s just a question of whether or not you like what’s strange about someone else.”
“And what’s strange about me?” Rachel stared back at the flames.
“Well,” Neal stopped to think for a minute. “You’re frightened of the forests.”
“But is that really all that strange?”
He shook his head. “I suppose not really, no. But then you go hiking at night without a flashlight and get yourself lost.”
Rachel put her hand on his chest, enjoying the feel of the taught muscle in her palm, and pushed herself up so she could look into his eyes. They were warm and playful, studying her face intently. “I was upset and in pain,” she explained quietly. “I wasn’t thinking straight. It happens, right?”
“It does,” Neal admitted. “Usually it’s because of love. Were you upset because of a man?”
Rachel stopped, dazed a little by the directness of the question. Then she thought about it. “More of a boy, really, than a man. But yes. There was a boy that hurt me, recently, and I that’s why I was taking a walk.”
Neal brushed her hair back with his hand. “Does it still hurt?”
Rachel’s eyes welled a bit as she smiled. “No,” she said simply “I guess the walk really helped.” Her hand rubbed over his chest muscle gently, soaking in the feel of it. It felt to her as though she were exploiting him, taking advantage of him for her own insidious desires. But she couldn’t stop. And his eyes weren’t asking her to.
“The thing about you that is so strange,” Neal breathed, “is how incredibly alluring you are to me.”

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