Rest Stop

"What did you do?" Taylor asked, the store strangely quiet around her.

Bill just sat there. "I don't remember. I really don't. Took a blow to the head at some point . . . memory ain't been the same since. Bits and pieces seem to be lost."

"It's okay," Lilly said. "It'll come back to you." She leaned in and gave the surprised young man a kiss on the forehead. He blushed. "I guess you'll be going now?" she asked warmly.

"I guess," he said. He stood up and headed out to his truck. Taylor was still very confused, but followed he and Lilly outside. Bill stood next to the door, obviously perplexed. "Maybe I should get a map," he muttered. "You got any?"

"Nope." She gave him a goofy grin and cocked her head as if contemplating something. "Why don't you go that way?" she said, poking her chin in the direction that Taylor had come from. "Road's a bit bumpy, but the view is worth the ride."

"I think I'll do just that," he replied, coaxing the antiquated truck to life and putting it in reverse. Soon, the young Marine was nothing more than a cloud of smoke and a memory.

"Guess it's just us," Lilly said, sitting on a swinging bench on the store's rickety front porch. Taylor just stood there.

'Should I sit next to her? Maybe I'll just wait and see if she asks me to,' the brown haired girl thought.

But Lilly didn't say a word. She just leaned back, letting the quiet wind sweep past her brunette curls while her eyes closed. Taylor took a deep breath and just sat down.

"This is all so . . . weird," she said, partially to make conversation and partially because it was . . . well, true.

"Not the strangest day I've ever had," Lilly replied.

"Why . . . why do you work out here?"

"It was a job of opportunity," Lilly replied carefully. "Besides . . . you get to meet the most interesting of people. Get to see the best and the worst of 'em. There are a lot worse jobs out there."

"I'm . . . I'm an artist," Taylor said. "It's not glamorous or anything," she started, hoping that Lilly would jump in with an "Oh, of COURSE it is!" But the girl just sat there.

"Do you enjoy it?"

"I guess. I'm okay at it," she said, finally sitting down. She kept staring at Lilly's face. 'She's so beautiful.'

Without opening her eyes, Lilly said, "Stop staring," with a chuckle. "Yer makin' me self-conscious.

"I can't," Taylor said, and then realized she'd used her "outside" voice. "I'm sorry," she squeaked. "I . . . I'm being too forward. I'll leave if you want me to . . ."

"Do YOU want to leave?" Lilly asked.

Taylor stopped, her mouth open and her heart threatening to burst through her chest.

"No," she whispered.

Lilly's eyes opened. "What do you want then?"

"Honestly?"

"Always."

Taylor took the biggest breath of her life. "I really want to kiss you."

Lilly's grin erupted. "Was that so hard?" she asked.

"Yes," Taylor said.

"It doesn't have to be," Lilly said, turning and putting her face just inches from Taylor's. "Sometimes, all you need to do is make one . . . little . . . decision and everything else just falls into . . ."

Lilly's voice was cut off because her lips were quite suddenly and quite warmly occupied. Taylor had just kissed that beautiful waitress for all she was worth.

'What the hell am I doing?' Taylor wondered. She'd never been that forward in her life. But once . . . just once . . . she wanted to take a chance. And with every luscious, delicious and lingering moment, she knew she had taken a good chance.

When she finally broke the kiss, there was no rush of air or gasp . . . she had no breath left. But her lips still felt the warmth of Lilly's, particularly when they playfully brushed against one another.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Taylor whispered, following her words with a dart of the tongue.

"See, you've got a silver tongue when ya set yer mind tuh usin' it," Lilly murmured.

"I can't believe that I'm doing this," Taylor said, blushing furiously. "I'm making out with a total stranger in front of a store!"

"Wanna go back to my place?" Lilly asked, quite earnestly.

"More than you can possibly imagine."

Lilly grabbed her young charge by the hand and practically drug her through a door in the back of the store. There, Taylor saw a small trailer with "Airstream" written on the side. She opened the door and Lilly walked up the narrow steps and pulled Taylor in after her. All evening long, Lilly had been calm and collected in the most extraordinary of circumstance. The calm was gone, and a very distinct and welcome hunger had taken its place.

"Let me," Taylor said, pushing the woman's hands away from her uniform's buttons. She wanted to do it. And she took her time, watching as inch by inch of skin snuck into view. Warm, tan skin contrasted against the whiteness of the bra. Taylor actually got down on her hands as she undid the last button. Then she opened Lilly's shirt up completely and pressed her lips against the soft skin right underneath the bellybutton. She felt the waitress's hands on her head, caressing her hair as she explored that wonderful midsection with her lips, her tongue, her eyes and her breath.

Lilly was reeling a little bit. This had been more than she had been expecting from this girl, but it was a welcome surprise. For her, it had been a long, long time.

Taylor had no rhyme nor reason for the pattern of kisses she left on Lilly's abdomen. She was just enjoying everything about the woman. She slowly stood up and kissed right between those full, soft breasts. Then she kissed Lilly's neck and then . . . then they were face to face.

"What kept you?" Lilly said with a smile.

"I had to take a detour," Taylor surprised. Then lips met lips and tongues danced and time either stopped or sped up . . . not that either of them was paying attention anymore.

"My turn," Lilly said. She pulled Taylor's shirt up over her head and quickly unhooked the woman's bra. Then she removed her own before pressing their bodies together. Her hands sought out the denim-clad behind of her lover-to-be. How this girl could have ever thought that she was unattractive was a mystery to Lilly, but then the human race was still a bit of a mystery unto itself. She looked the girl in the eye as she slid her hands between them and unbuttoned Taylor's pants. She saw a look of anxious desire as her damp panties were exposed to the air, and total contentment when Lilly wiggled her hand inside. She grabbed Taylor's ass and rubbed that sweet mound through those panties, looking forward to the things to come.

Taylor never wanted that moment to end. This woman's touch was amazing! It was amazing . . . the difference in sensation caused by the same act when it came from someone who didn't look down on her . . . someone who, for no particular reason, seemed to care. She reached around as Lilly did her thing, unzipping the top of the woman's skirt and pushing it down past her buttocks. Lilly was wearing bland cotton grannie-panties, but Taylor thought they looked sexier than anything she had ever seen. She grasped Lilly's nicely rounded butt and just gripped it, not wanting her companion to stop even for a second. But she did start kissing Lilly's neck, just because she wanted to.

Lilly had to stop for a moment. She pushed Taylor's pants down all the way so the girl could quickly step out of them. Then she pulled those panties out of her way.

"On the bed," she whispered. "Please?"

Taylor lay on the bed but pulled Lilly with her. And when Lilly's hand sought out Taylor's warm sex, Taylor's hand reciprocated. The two women pressed hard against each other, hands and fingers moving rapidly. Taylor pushed Lilly's legs apart and scooted closer between them. The waitress's legs wrapped around her lover's hips, keeping them close while they fingered one another.

When Taylor came . . . it was unlike anything she had even dreamed of before. Her whole body wanted in on the action. Her stomach was tightening, her skin trembling, her legs tensing . . . she jerked a bit when the passion first started to flow, and Lilly's fingers inside her seemed to coax her on. She was lying almost limply on her lover's body when she was finally able to think again.

"So, I'm guessing you enjoyed that?" Lilly joked, but her humor was met with an invigorated passionate kiss.

"I think I'm going to enjoy this as well," she muttered hungrily. She slid down Lilly's body and placed her face between those wonderful thighs after pulling the woman's drenched underwear off of her body. Then she placed her thumbs on Lilly's succulent outer labia and tugged a bit, pressing her tongue inside. She wanted to make the woman's eyes light up and glow like Taylor's had. But for the first time in her memory, she wasn't going to do it because she needed someone's approval. She was going to do it because the idea of making this heavenly creature happy was just damn appealing.

"Oh!" Lilly groaned, her eyes closing and her lips turning upward in a contented smile. That tongue was so far inside that she thought they might be able to French kiss from the inside. She wanted to grind her hips against the girl's face, but she refrained. This was about Taylor doing something good because she wanted to, and Lilly wasn't going to deny her that.

Taylor was frustrated that she only had two hands. She was using them to help pleasure her lover, but she wanted to touch every square inch of that perfect body.

'One thing at a time,' she thought. 'We've got all day . . . night . . . however long it takes.'

Lilly extended her arms, bracing herself on the bed as she draped her legs over Taylor's shoulders. Taylor pulled her hands free and reached around, grabbing Lilly's wrists. Her mouth was in exclusive control of Lilly's paradise while her eyes were able to look down the length of that body. Lilly was obviously experiencing tremendous pleasure, and Taylor felt satisfied at that.

She set her tongue into overdrive, pressing her face against her lover's sex so that her tongue had deeper access. And that clit . . . it teased Taylor from behind its hood, so she felt obligated to chastise it . . . at great length and with many kisses and tongue lashes. That tongue was laying siege to the gate to Lilly's paradise, and Lilly finally had to surrender. She held on to that woman's head for dear life and came like there was no tomorrow.

Taylor actually had to chuckle. "It HAS been a long time, hasn't it?" she asked. "I can't imagine someone who looks so damn beautiful having that kind of dry spell."

Lilly was in a lazy shade of dreamy contentment when she finally found the breath to speak again. "I'm just . . . picky," she said. "I haven't found someone like you in many years."

"Like me?"

"Someone with passion, but who just needed the will to express it," the waitress muttered, pulling up on Taylor until the two were face to face.

Taylor thought that an odd thing to say, but when she felt Lilly's fingers slip back inside her body, followed by Lilly pressing her leg against the back of that hand, Taylor really wasn't thinking about explanations. She curled one leg around her lover's body and helped build a rhythm as Lilly humped her own leg and hand against Taylor's mound. She kissed that sensual mouth and then trailed her tongue around until she got to Lilly's ear. She took the soft lobe in her teeth and pinched gently. When Lilly gasped, Taylor knew she was on to something. So while Lilly pleasured Taylor's nethers, Taylor pleasured the other woman as well as she could. She kissed neck, sucked on ear, and returned to drink from those lips a time or two.

When she came again, her mouth latch onto Lilly's, as if hoping the touched of their tongues might transfer Taylor's pleasure like an electric shock. And she wasn't far off. Lilly could literally taste her lover's excitement in a metaphorical sense. And when she pulled her hand up and tasted the girl's cum, it was just as sweet as she had imagined.

"Can I stay here with you?" Taylor gasped. She kissed Lilly again. "This is better than I've felt in . . . as long as I can remember."

Lilly's face became unreadable for a moment. "Are you sure you're not just looking for someone to protect you?"

Taylor mulled it over. 'How does she seem to know me so well?'

"Never mind," Lilly whispered. "Just . . . I think maybe you should sleep on that idea."

Taylor just then realized that the darkness had arrived, cooling the air and firing up the desert orchestra of crickets and coyotes. And sleep seemed to be just what the doctor ordered.

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The next morning . . .

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Taylor awoke feeling truly refreshed. She was trying to remember the last time she felt that good when she woke up or . . . at all. And better yet, Lilly was there . . . awake and smiling.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to wake up."

Taylor grinned. "I had this terrific dream. I met this really hot waitress and . . . well, the sex was amazing. Not the sort of thing one wants to wake up from."

Lilly looked a little sad for a second. "Better get dressed," she said. "I'll go make you some breakfast." She got up and headed out the door, fully dressed.

Taylor was confused. Did she do something wrong? Say something wrong? And when did Lilly get dressed? Wasn't she naked and in bed a second ago? The artist got out of that comfortable bed and slipped into her own garments, then made her way into the diner.

As soon as that door opened, Taylor smelled something wonderful. 'How did she get cooking so fast?' she wondered. She strode around the shop, the antiquated wood flooring creaking from time to time as if objecting to be roused so early. Taylor glanced through the front screen door.

"That doesn't seem very secure," she mumbled. And how could Lilly have just left the store open all night? She saw the rolled up papers on the porch outside and went to get them.

Lilly stared out through the window in the kitchen door. She could see the cogs in the girl's head clicking now. She was figuring it out. It almost broke Lilly's heart to see. 'One good meal,' she thought sadly. 'One good morning and she's on her way.'

Taylor sat down at one of the checker-clothed tables and opened up one of the four papers

"What on earth is she doing with four papers all the way the hell out here?" she said. The first paper was from a small town in Texas. The headline read, "Train crossing mechanical failure leads to tragic end for local teen." 'That's horrible,' Taylor thought. She barely noticed Lilly putting a cup of coffee down on the table or sitting in the chair next to her. Taylor was just reading the story of how a young cheerleader lost her life when her car stalled on the train tracks. She had apparently had the music up and didn't hear the train, and the guards had failed to come down. Taylor turned to page two and saw the picture of the girl who had died. Her mouth went dry and her brain went numb.

"That's . . . not . . . possible," she said. It was Laura . . . the girl she had had lunch with just yesterday. How had she gotten all the way back to Texas and then . . . She put the paper down.

"Keep going," Lilly said sadly.

Taylor was drawn to the next paper. It was from a big city out east. When she opened it up, a rotating fan's breeze swept over it, rustling the pages and turning them to the obituary section. Right there in front of her was a picture of a middle-aged man . . . the man who had tried to rape Lilly."

"George L. Tyler died yesterday of a heart attack while working late in his office. He was seen by his friends as a man driven to succeed. His secretary called 911 when . . ." Taylor stopped reading. "Oh my . . . no . . . this can't be." She glanced at the other two papers. One was the New York Times and the other . . . the other was her home town paper. She looked at Lilly. "What's going on? How can they be . . . but . . . I just saw them and . . ." Tears started to creep out of her eyes.

Lilly hated this part. She had never been left feeling so empty. She just had to remind herself that good things would come of what unfolded . . . good things for Taylor.

"They're dead?" Taylor asked.

Lilly nodded.

"But that means . . ."

"I'm afraid so," the waitress replied as gently as she could.

"But how? Why? I'm dead too?!"

Lilly nodded again.

Taylor started to cry outright. "Is this some kind of sick fucking joke?! How can I be . . . I mean last night . . ."

"Before you say another word, last night was very real and very special for me. Been a damn long time since I felt that way."

"But I'm DEAD!" Taylor screamed. "Why . . . why is this . . ."

"Read," Lilly said, holding out the girl's local paper. She needed to go all the way now. She needed to truly believe.

Taylor took the paper with numb and trembling hands. Buried in the "local" section . . . "Taylor Richards, a popular local artist, was killed last night when her Plymouth Sport Fury lost traction while hydroplaning . . ." Taylor stopped. In the back of her mind, an image . . . a memory was working its way forward. She remembered. She saw the windshield of her car as it was lit up by rain drops. She had been crying then too . . . crying because of what Amy had said about her and crying because she knew that eventually she would go back to that bitch, or someone just like her. She could almost feel herself cranking on the wheel when her tires had left the road. She heard herself screaming when her car crashed through the railing and into the icy river below. And she remembered thinking, for just a moment, that at least her useless life was finally . . .

". . . over," she finished out loud. "Why is this place . . . why am I here?"

Lilly took the girl's hand. "There are a lot of good folk in the world, and some not so good. And in the end, we're all judged by the choices we make. But sometimes . . . sometimes folk are interrupted before they can make that choice. Sometimes they die before that defining moment . . . when they chose the kind of person they're going to be. My Boss is a forgiving sort, but even He's got rules. You heard their stories. Laura had to wanted to make things right after being selfish, but she died before she got the chance. She had to be given that chance."

"And this man . . . George Tyler?"

Lilly looked a little disgusted. "He had actually lived a . . . decent life. Not the friendliest sort, but nothing scoring as a major sin. Then he started to covet that secretary that called 911 for him. He'd actually wanted to cheat on his wife with her, but she'd refused. So he'd started thinking about ways of making her his, whether she liked it or not. Lots of people have bad thoughts but don't necessarily act on them. He died before he had a chance. He had to be given an opportunity to do the right thing. If he'd just sat there quietly, he might've gotten a pass."

"You put yourself up as bait?"

Lilly smiled tiredly. "I was in no danger. I promise you that. Luckily, young Mr. Jenkins just needed to show that he would defend anyone who needed it, and he rose to the occasion." She sounded proud. "C'mon," she added, taking Taylor by the hand and leading her out front.

It was a calm, warm summer morning by all appearances. Taylor looked down the road and saw that the road was clear in both directions. The barrels from the other day were gone. "Is that really how it works?"

"The Man upstairs likes His metaphors," Lilly said. She looked to the right. "One road leads to His absence . . ." She turned to the left. ". . . and the other to His presence."

"But the marine . . ." Taylor was confused. "He went that way," she added pointing away from the fork in the road.

Lilly handed her the last paper. The cover story actually brought a smile to Taylor's face. It told the story of a young soldier who had been shot in the line of duty while trying to keep the peace in Iraq. After initially believed to be beyond hope, field medics had been able to resuscitate him. He was being sent home to a small town in Massachusetts as soon as his wounds allowed.