She Reassured Him

They went to the wedding as a favor to the bride. Neither knew her well, but there would be food, maybe some laughs. It had gone nicely so far, better than expected, and the evening surprised them with its rare loveliness. 

The night offered itself up like an answer to secret hope, with the selflessness of a new lover. Tiny stars on electric wire wound their way up trees in the courtyard as the sun set behind a crimson horizon. A deep blue followed the receding reds and pinks, and as the sky darkened, the moon peeked over a mountain ridge to the east. It was all linked together, all in motion on an October night in Tucson. The heat of the day radiated up and out into the cold, violet indifference of space. Fernanda borrowed Jason's sport coat to fend off the first chill of darkness.

Music played. She wanted to dance. And Jason had some really good weed, so good that she knew they would go home after the reception, fall into bed and find each other under covers as the train passed through the downtown, blaring its deafening warning.

But now, they sat at the banquet table with strangers. She drew the eyes of men, she being the perfect mix of young, fresh, smooth, and cool womanhood. Pheromones wafted off of her. I heard a falcon shriek from his perch on one of the downtown skyscrapers. Her eyes sparkled with the same, clear sharpness of the Christmas lights winding up the trunks and branches of the trees. There was glitter mixed with her eye shadow. She radiated an openness braided with mystery and exotic blossoms. She spoke with the slightest of accents, was from deep in Mexico a long time ago. But now she was above the rough status of immigrant, having climbed up the educational barrier into professional income and easy American sophistication. She was fluent in the moves.

Jason looked a little worried when one of the men looked closely at her and spoke to her with an intimacy that took Fernanda by surprise. She warmed to the stranger as if by reflex.

Jason straightened up, taking more notice of the conversation. He needed her to want to be with him. There was so much undone in his life, and her attention helped him to forget, or at least to tolerate the nagging need to get his act together. He found comfort in her, craved her like an addict craves a fix. She could break him with a tilt of her head. So much was at stake. He did not want to be alone with hard facts.

Fernanda saw this, or sensed it. She took her hand from the table and reached for his leg. She ran her smooth, small, strong hands along his thigh, in full view of others.

She was his, her hand said, and Jason fell back then, into a relaxed posture, now resting against the stiff back of the chair.

She would wear his jacket, go with him to the quiet place where they could share a joint, watch the sun's warm colors give way to night, and then look for that peace where sleep comes without fear.