Her Sweet Juices

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A divorced man finds someone who accepts him, faults and all.
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It was the first time AJ went to Bethanne's Apple Orchard, despite knowing Bethanne herself since they were in their twenties, fifteen-some-odd years ago. He passed by while he was driving to and from work on Maud's Farm, but never had the time or energy to go. Yet when coming home on a warm day with the sun shining upon the bushels, he'd roll down his window and breathe in the sweet aroma. Almost like his grandmother's apple pie, all it was missing was sugar and cinnamon.

But, Maud had closed the farm early this year. The news said winter was coming early, and it was going to be uglier than it was a year before. So after they had everything cut and stored, the animals taken care of well enough that Maud could tend to them throughout the frigid months, AJ suddenly had free time... At least for a while. Maud paid him well, but not that well. He'd have to find seasonal work sometime soon, but not yet.

On a warm fall day, he strolled down the narrow aisles between the apple trees. Rotten ones squished under his boots, but it was better than cow and horse manure he had grown accustomed to. He took everything in; the lush grass, the red fruit hanging from bronzing trees, the red-orange sky with pumpkin pink clouds. So transfixed he hadn't noticed someone had walked into his path.

Quickly he stopped before running into the lady. She had long brown hair, matching eyes, and wore a yellow-patterned gown to her khaki boots. Her head came up to his collarbone, and she was carrying a basket of apples.

"Sorry about that ma'am," he said, scratching the back of his head. "Too busy daydreaming."

"Not a problem," she said, smiling. "I get like that, too, sometimes... It's nice, isn't it?"

"Daydreaming?"

"That," she laughed, "but no; the orchard."

He looked where she faced and the mountains were aflame by the sunset. Burning light trickled through canopies, warming the skin it touched. AJ glanced at her and said, "Yeah, sure is nice."

He turned away before she turned her attention to him. "Name's June," she said, "by the way."

"Like the month?" he blurted.

She nodded. "I get that a lot, but yes, like the month. And you?"

"I go by AJ."

"That short for something?

"Might be," he grinned, "but sure as shoot I don't know what."

They laughed. She put out her hand and he shook it, finding it coarse. Working hands. "Nice to meet you, AJ."

"Likewise."

Evening began settling in, the sun vanishing underneath the world's teeth. "But, AJ, I must be going. Don't want to get lost out here in the dark."

"Mind if I tag along, at least back to the parking lot?"

"I'd like that."

*

They went their separate ways that night, and winter came in cold and harsh the following week. He spent most of his days tending to his horses, chopping firewood, and mulling around his trailer in-between reruns of Giligan's Island. Never fond of being lazy, yet there wasn't much more he could do with the snow and ice than he already was doing.

Wasn't a big drinker, so bars weren't an option, and he never was a big eater, so there went restaurants, too. He used to smoke in high school, but that habit disappeared before graduating. So, weeks were spent doing not much of anything, but repeating the same routine as the day before.

One night standing in his kitchen as a microwavable apple pie filling rotated in the microwave, the sweet aroma drew a memory from his mind he had entirely forgotten about, lost in the doldrums of boredom. The apple orchard and... "What was her name? Josephine? Jessica?" He scratched his head. "It was a month..." The microwave dinged. "April? May? No, no, no... June!"

He felt accomplished before realizing that's all he knew. He didn't know her last name or her telephone number, or even where she lived. She could be states away, only visiting the orchard for a day trip.

"Shoot." He peeled off the plastic from the TV dinner, and whisked the cinnamon-apple mush with a fork, steam rising. But, he remembered, she did buy some that day, and Beth would have her information. Although he suspected it was illegal for her to give him any of it, he couldn't stop the urge to talk to June once more.

Grabbing the telephone from its cradle and sinking onto the couch, apple mush in-hand, he dialed Beth's house. It took four rings for an answer.

"Y'ello?"

"Beth, it's AJ. How've you been?"

"Good, good; finally got the drive plowed by Mike. You remember Mike, right? He played football--"

"Sorry Beth, but I called for something."

She sighed. "What's that?"

"A month or so ago, before winter, I was with a woman when she was checking out at night. Any of this ringing a bell?"

"A little, why?"

"Well..." His chest fluttered. After a mouthful of apple, he continued. "I was wondering if you could give me her phone number or, I don't know, her last name?"

"You know that's illegal, AJ, right? I might've married a cop, but it doesn't mean I'm allowed to go willy-nilly with the law."

He didn't know she married a cop, he thought Blake was security for the bank, but he said nothing about it. "I understand, but I just..." He laughed. "I can't just stop thinking about her, and I was too stupid to ask her about anything except her first name. If I had a last name, I could at least find her in the phonebook."

He heard ruffling on the other end. "Clipper."

"That it?"

"What do you mean 'that it'? You wanted her last name, and there it is. Now don't go saying I ain't ever did anything for you, okay?"

"Never in my life," he said, scratching the name on a scrap of paper on the coffee table. "Thank you Beth, really appreciate it."

"No problem, have a good one."

He said the same, hung up, and immediately sprung to the phonebook he kept in the junk drawer by the fridge. Slapping it onto the counter, he rifled through it until he found June Clipper. There were four of them, all with the same area code. He wanted to start on them now, but at the same time he was too giddy to. AJ didn't want to sound like an idiot to possibly three strangers.

Circling their numbers with a pen, he went and finished his food, and grabbed the bottle of Jack from the top cabinet over the sink. Never said he wasn't a drinker at all, just not a big one. He poured three-fingers into a glass, and gulped it down. It burned his throat and when the fire reached his gut, everything was smoother, simpler. He grabbed the phone, and started dialing.

The first was an old woman who was watching TV too loudly; the second an upset mother who had just gotten her kids to bed only to be woken up by the phone ringing; the third...

"Hello?"

"June?"

"Yeah, who's this?"

"AJ," he said, holding his breath.

"Hey AJ, how'd you get my number?"

"Wild guess?" He chuckled a little.

"Uh huh..." she said, a book closing on the other end. "So what can I do for you, AJ?"

Now that he called her, he didn't know what he wanted, what to say. He hadn't thought this far into the night, going only by his urge to see her again. Maybe he ought to just say that? "I'd like to see you again," he blurted, "I mean, as long as you want to see me, again, you know... Sorry, that sounded strange."

She laughed. "No, no, you're fine. Sure we can see each other. Where you wanna go?"

"Well with the cold and snow, maybe we ought to go to Serk's Bar downtown?" Then, he remembered he didn't know where she lived. Serk's could be towns away.

"Sounds good to me. Serk's about a ten minute's drive from me."

"Oh, really? That's great." She lived closer than he imagined. His stomach knotted. "I live nearby, too."

"Well look at that, a nice coincidence."

"So Serk's tomorrow at, uh... seven, work for you?" he hurried on: "Or earlier or later, depending on work or hobbies or--"

"Seven's fine with me, AJ. See you then."

She hung up before he said, "Goodbye", and he sat on the couch, phone still to his ear, for about five minutes until he realized he was doing it. It was the first date he had in over twenty years, and that was to his ex-wife who divorced him over reasons he never admitted to anyone. Since then, AJ never felt like pursuing women again. Burned once, he could be burned again, yet... June was different. Safer, in a way. But it was only 9PM and he had twenty-two hours until their date.

"Now what am I going to do?"

*

The day was as slow as the snow gathering outside, but eventually the time came for him to get into his truck and drive down to Serk's. He wore the same thing he wore twenty years ago: heavy jacket over a red t-shirt tucked into blue denim. The neon sign perched on the roof above the scuffed front door made the snowflake glow red.

Inside the warmth nearly suffocated him, and the stools at the bar were occupied by old timers who've, if asked, seen better days. Classic rock songs from bygone eras played lowly from a jukebox by the front, and smoke hovered just beneath the drop ceiling.

AJ ordered a glass of water and found a booth in the rear by the bathrooms. He scraped off leftover peanut shells from the scratched tabletop. Wasn't the best choice, but it was the only one that gave them some seclusion from everyone else. Then, he sat, watching the front door, waiting...

June came in minutes later wearing belted jeans, boots, and a crop-top under a black leather jacket. Her hair was tied back, giving full view of her silver earrings. She waved to him before getting a beer from the bar, then came over and sat across from him.

"Nice to see you again," she said, tossing aside her purse. "How've you been?"

"Good, good, and you?" He hoped she couldn't notice his leg bobbing like crazy under the table.

"Can't complain much." She drank from her glass, and wiped the foam from her top lip. "So, really, how'd you get my number?"

He laughed. "Swore to secrecy I wouldn't tell."

"If you weren't so cute, that'd be really creepy."

"Really now?" He arched his brow.

"Really." She grinned before taking another drink. "But, let's get to the important stuff now, AJ. What made me pop up in your mind, weeks after seeing each other?"

It took him a moment to settle his nerves before answering. He alluded to the smell of apples triggering the memory, and he really didn't forget about her, just life happened sometimes. One thing leads to another, then what do you know? It's a month later.

June admitted to thinking about him too, though without being led by the fresh scent of apples. She remembered the way his salt-and-pepper hair glowed in the dying sun, and the way he walked with her back to her truck that night. He fought tooth and nail not to blush.

"Apples are our thing then, huh?"

He went to drink water to realize he had finished it already. "I guess so."

"I could go for something to eat," she said, finishing her beer. "Does this place have good food?"

"I wouldn't say it's good, but it's greasy."

"Good, greasy, what's the difference?"

"Now that you mention it, not much."

After burgers and cheese fries, and another beer was downed by June, he paid the bill, then the two of them left Serk's. He walked with her through the slush-laden gravel lot to her truck.

"So when will I see you again, AJ?" she said, opening the driver side door. The white sodium light made her eyes glean.

His stomach was in his throat. Should've skipped the cheese. "Ah... when would you like?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Don't you have work?" he said before being able to stop himself.

"I'll call in sick, I got the days."

"How about breakfast then, my place?"

"And he can cook," she mused, grinning. "Breakfast at your place, then. Any specific time?"

"Nine works," he said. "Or earlier, or later; whatever's best for you."

"Nine it is." June got into her truck, started the engine. "See you in the morning."

"You too." He closed the door for her, then stomped his way to his own vehicle back by the bar.

After he turned the engine over, he realized what he had just agreed to. Breakfast. His house. He hadn't cleaned in a while, and the last time he had real food in his fridge was before winter. AJ survived on whatever he had, be that a sack of potatoes or a box of oatmeal, but that wouldn't fly for June. He'd have to go to the grocery on the way home, pick up all the fixins for tomorrow.

Sighing, he reversed out of his spot. AJ hoped she was worth all the trouble.

*

Breakfast went without too many hiccups, most of them happening before June arrived. He had woken up hours ahead of time to clean, and while cooking, he burnt some of the eggs and a few pieces of toast, but he tossed them and made everything again before she knocked on his door. The table held the spread of toast, eggs, sausage, bacon, pancakes, orange juice, and coffee, along with any condiment he thought she may want.

At first, they ate in silence. He didn't know what to say or do, not having a woman in his home since his ex-wife. AJ couldn't help to be hesitant of June, of their date, of her being there, because if everything ran its course, then it was possible she, too, would leave him once he opened up to her. He glanced at the hall leading to his bedroom as he drank his third cup of black coffee.

Once she was stuffed, and he lied that he was, too, he quickly soaked the dishes in the sink, and stored leftovers in sandwich bags and put them in the fridge. Then, awkwardly, he stood in the kitchen as she sipped from her mug.

"Now what?" she said, looking up at him.

"How about some TV?" he guessed. "Anything you'd like to watch?"

She sighed, stretching out her arms, her nipples poking against the thin, soft blue shirt she wore. "Not much of a TV watcher, to be honest. I read, mostly."

"Well shoot."

Laughing, she said: "Why don't you give me a tour of the house?"

He didn't clean the entire house, just the living room and kitchen. Hadn't expected her to want to see the rest of it so soon. Sweat ran down the nape of his neck. Grinning, he said. "I can't say it's in the best shape right now, but if you want to..."

She stood, finishing her drink. "Oh, I do."

AJ showed her the hallway, spare room he used for storage, the bathroom, then his bedroom in the rear. Double bed on a wooden frame, two nightstands, one unused, dresser, top drawer open, clothes spilling out. June entered the room, looking it over as though she hadn't seen a middle-aged man's bedroom before, and sat on the edge of the bed. He was as nervous as he was at fourteen-years-old when he first had a girl in his room. Nearly, the same; the excitement of something you'd never experienced before, to be lucky enough to be with a woman.

"Just gonna stand there or are you gonna join me?" She patted the bed.

He nodded and sat next to her. AJ wanted to take her, but flashes of the bitter argument with his ex-wife went through his mind. Bedroom things were the reason why they split, things he asked for and things she outright refused, cursing him for having such insane thoughts. She was supposed to be his wife, meant to accept him--all of him--but clearly that had been a lie. So she left and he didn't fight it, because if he was the problem, he wasn't going to be the solution.

"You know this is when, typically, you'd make the first move."

He sighed. "Yeah, I know."

"Any reason why not?"

It was on the tip of his tongue, but... "I'm more of 'taking things slow' kinda man."

"Ah," she said, "I see. Haven't had one of your types in a while."

"Really now?"

"Uh huh. Most men want the goods, then git. Which is fine in most cases, because I'm the same way."

He raised his brows.

"Don't look at me like that. Women have needs, too. And after Harry..."

"Who's Harry?"

After taking a deep breath, June explained Harry was her ex-husband. They were married for almost two decades before things turned sour. Well, not necessarily the marriage, but him as a person. Drinking. Staying out late. Sleeping around. The works. At first she dealt with it because she loved him, and figured all he wanted from those women were their bodies.

It was difficult to deal with, not something she could say she liked, but she did for a while. Then, money started going missing and she came home one day to find him with some twenty-something in their bed. The divorce happened soon thereafter, and he took everything from her: the house, money, belongings, etc. She barely had enough to get the place she had now, plus she never recovered from the mental scars he left her...

"Where's he at now?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Hell, hopefully."

"Wish the same."

June put out her hand, and he took the sign to take it.

"So, slow, huh?"

"Yup, nice and steady, like the turtle."

Their hands were set between them on the mattress. "I'm more of a hare person, but for you, I'll be a turtle."

*

Throughout the winter months, June and AJ spent most of their time together. Sometimes they sat in one of their vehicles, eating fast food, and talking about anything that came to their mind. He learned she had a dog growing up named Lizard, on account of he was a fan of chasing lizards, and she learned he played the saxophone in band back in high school.

Other times they spent afternoons walking around downtown when it was warm. She quickly found out that AJ's knees weren't what they used to be, and he learned she wasn't someone who appreciated drivers not using their turn signals when they took the crosswalk.

But most days and nights, they spent together at his or her house. She had a nice library in her upstairs spare bedroom, and her cellar was stuffed full of bins leftover from her mother when she passed. The carpet was old and the furniture about the same, but it had a cozy feeling to it, like nostalgic years of sitting inside while the wind howled and snow fell, drinking hot cocoa under a blanket and watching TV with his parents...

Little by little, they grew closer in all the ways a couple ought to. Hand holding became cuddling, cuddling into kissing, kissing into making out, but it never went beyond that. When AJ felt himself get hard, he would stop and shift their focus to the movie they rented or the dinner they still had sitting out or any damn thing else than what was to happen if they kept on the way they were.

Winter gave way to spring, and while fresh air below through his open bedroom window, they tussled on his bed. Her shirt was on the floor, flesh-pink bra barely containing her breasts, and his pants were off, his hard member pressing against her thigh; their tongues mingled with one another between pressed together lips, and hands ran up and down bodies. He wanted her. She wanted him. Their hearts seemed to rapidly beat in-sync, and the warmth swelling between them urged them on... But as she slipped her hand beneath his boxers, he snatched it and sat up.

"Why?" she said, gaze burning into him. "At least tell me why you won't."

He slid to the edge of the bed, his face in his hands. AJ knew this time would come eventually, and trying to avoid it was like trying to not get your feet wet during a flood--no matter what, they'll end up wet. She joined him, putting her hand on his back.

"It was with my ex-wife," he said, as though the words held weight. "She left me because of it--because of something in the bedroom."

"I've been with plenty of guys, AJ, and I've seen and heard some crazy--"

He side-eyed her, and she quieted. "Sex'll start out normal, but it will lead to ti and then, what? You'll think I'm weird or crazy, and up and leave me, too." Tears lined his eyes. "I rather withhold the one thing I want the most to keep the one thing I love the most."

"Love...?"

He nodded.

"Love you, too," she said, simply. "Have for a while, just... you know, didn't wanna screw up what we had going."

"Don't have to tell me twice," he laughed, sniffling.

"Look." She scooched closer, breasts pressing against his arm, face nearer. "If we love each other, and we plan on keeping this party going, then we have to be open, honest. If you can accept me, then I can accept you, whatever it is."

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