The Convertible – Breakdown

"Here's your shit, bitch. This stupid motherfucker wants you so bad, he can fuckin' have you." Having recited that lovely soliloquy, he went out, kickstarted the Harley, and roared away.

Crisis now abated, Pretty Asian Woman started crying. Gina took her in the back to put ice on her face where Biker hit her.

Allen looked at me with what can be best described as reluctant admiration: "Gotta hand it to ya, you got some brass balls, Shaun. Thought for sure that asshole was gonna bust you up good."

I shook my head, "Not brass balls, bossman, just an understanding of human nature; I've learned that most men are greedy fucks -- present company excluded, of course. These asswipes make all kinds of big noise, but you wave a dollar in their face, it's a different tune they're singing."

Gina came out of the kitchen, announcing, "She's going to have a red mark for a few days, but she'll be fine. What are we going to do with her?"

Allen looked at his tiny spouse, "Whattaya mean, 'we', Gina, she's not a relative, why is she OUR problem?"

Gina pulled herself up to her full height, which wasn't saying much. "Allen North, either you agree to help this poor girl, or I swear the only pussy you'll be getting for the next 12 months will be that mangy tomcat that likes to sit in your lap."

Yeow! Gina wasn't unattractive, but imagining Allen and Gina getting busy was NOT on the list of things I wanted in my brain; now I wouldn't be able to look at either of them again without picturing it.

Allen held up his hands in surrender, "All right, Gina. Maybe she can help out as a waitress during breakfast rush. You're always complaining how you're overloaded between 6 and 10." Gina walked up and put her arms around her husband. He bent his face down to hers; she kissed him with a little more ardor than I expected, then returned to the back.

I looked at him, speechless. He shook his head, "Fuckin' menopause, man. For most women, their sex drive drops. Gina didn't get the damned memo, hers is going the other way. She's draining me, man. Haven't gotten laid this much since our honeymoon; it's gotten to the point I have keep a bottle of water on the nightstand, I swear she'll dehydrate me!" Oh, man, I was really going to have to have a talk soon with my new boss about oversharing.

Gina came back out with Pretty Asian Woman following, holding a cold pack to her cheek. "Allen, this is our new morning waitress Cherry Shon. Cherry, this is my husband Allen and our new dishwasher. He's so new, I don't even know his name."

I extended my hand, "Shaun Parrish, nice to meet you." She shook it.

"Shaun, I don't know how to thank you," she said, her voice still a bit unsteady, "Mammoth is a little unstable; he could have beaten you up too."

I laughed, "His name was Mammoth, as in Mammoth Douchebag? I've dealt with worse." I flashed on a vision of Amanda dying in the cancer ward, then stopped laughing. "Yeah, a lot worse. Anyway, fuck that guy. I know the type. He'll burn through that cash in less than a day, then he'll be stuck somewhere else. The good news is, he'll be stuck far from here, the better news is, he won't even have his girlfriend with him. How stupid can he be to kick a beauty like you off his bike?"

A smile flashed momentarily across her face at my backhanded compliment; for a second, something warm flickered in my heart, a feeling I hadn't had since Amanda was alive. Then it was gone.

Cherry turned to Gina, "I don't have any place to stay, is there a storeroom I can sleep in here?"

Before Gina could answer, I spoke up, "I have a thought, Cherry; I'm renting a room over at the Sugar Pine Inn. It's a one-bedroom with a pull-out sofa in the living room. If you'd like, you could stay with me until you're on your feet with a few dollars in your pocket. I'll give you the bedroom, I'll take the sofa. I think Allen and Gina here will vouch for me that I'm a safe bet, not going to try anything funny. I mean, it's not the Ritz, but it beats sleeping in a storage room."

Cherry looked at Gina, "Do you think it would be all right?"

Gina smiled, "I do, sweetie. If Mr. Parrish stepped in front of a crazy-ass biker for you, I think he's a pretty safe bet."

++++++++++

We went back to the Sugar Pine, and I stopped at the front desk to pick up a second key. The desk manager, a pimply-faced nerd named Oscar, tried to give me static about having a second guest. I sighed, then said, "Look, kid, have I not paid in advance? I'm not some fucking rock star that's going to tear up the room. Now give me the key, dammit!" Reluctantly, he handed it over. I'd have to make it up to him later, buy him a videogame or something.

Entering the room, I showed Cherry the bed and the closet. She had very few things in her bundle aside from an extra pair of jeans, some underwear, and a toothbrush. The jeans she had on looked like they hadn't seen a washing machine in a while. When she took off her leather jacket, it smelled like she and that stained blouse she was wearing were in the same boat.

"The shower's down the hall," I told her, "so we should shower as soon as we get back from work, before the other visitors get back all sweaty from their bike rides and hiking." Reaching into my toiletries, I pulled out some basic shampoo and a small bottle of body wash.

I figured I'd swing by the sole drug store in town to pick up more on Monday when the GearJammer was closed. I know women have a ton of brands to choose from, but most men could care less. My roommate in college actually used the bar of soap he showered with to wash his hair as well.

Handing her the shampoo and a towel, I suggested that she should go first; I'd dig through my stuff and see if I had a spare shirt I could loan her. I happened to find an old Slizzle company t-shirt, sized XXL. It was a little big for me but given that Cherry's chest took up a lot of room, I was hoping it would fit her better. I laid the shirt, plus a hoodie in case the evening got cool, on the bed. I could get her more t-shirts and other stuff at the drug store on Monday.

When Cherry returned, I grabbed my towel and shampoo and headed down the hall. I did the old left-leg-right-leg-left-arm-right-arm-face-crotch-hair shower routine, so I was out and back in less than 5 minutes. I found Cherry sitting on the sofa, dressed in her clean pair of jean and the t-shirt I'd left for her. She was looking out the window. "See anything interesting," I asked?

"No, just thinking I should call my folks. Can I use your cell phone?"

I felt a painful twinge as I remembered the pain of standing alone on a beach where Amanda and I used to watch the sunset, right before I chucked my phone out into the breakers. "Not unless you're a mermaid," I told her, "my cell phone sleeps with the fishes."

Cherry looked at me with those beautiful eyes like I was nuts, so I explained, "In a moment of madness, I threw it in the Pacific. In retrospect, it was rather freeing, and I don't miss it at all. I expect Allen or Gina will let you use theirs."

"Okay, thanks. My folks are in Seattle. The last time I spoke with them, it wasn't a pleasant conversation. They may not be happy to hear from me, but I need to tell them I'm not with Mammoth anymore. They really hated him."

"Well, your folks and I seem to see eye-to-eye on that particular topic. Give them my best. Hey, it's almost dinner time, and I saw a Public House down the street that looks appealing. I could go for a burger and an IPA."

Cherry agreed, and before long we were seated at a table on an outdoor patio, sipping pale ale and wiping burger juice off our chins. During our light conversation she even laughed a couple of times, and a sparkle appeared in her eyes, at least temporarily. When the burgers were gone and we were into the 3rd round of beers, she started to open up a little more.

"My full Chinese name Chenguang, which is Mandarin for 'morning light'. My American-style derivative name is Cherry. You wouldn't think that you'd encounter racism in a liberal city like Seattle, but the haters are all around us. I've always been a big girl, so in addition to the usual Asian slurs like 'gook' and 'chink' I had to tolerate teasing about my weight, and got called things like 'Sumo', 'Chunk', 'Broadzilla', and of course 'Great Wall'. I went to college at a private college not far from my parents.

"Mammoth and I started riding up and down the Pacific coast in late spring, right after I got my diploma. My parents lost their minds when I explained I wanted to take time off after graduating to explore the country. They immediately cancelled my credit cards. I still had an ATM card for an account that was my money alone, so we used that to live on as we travelled. I'd met Mammoth at a bar, he was telling me about life on the road and made it sound so appealing that when he invited me to ride with him, I said yes.

As it turned out, he was only telling me about the good parts. He didn't mention being caught on a motorcycle in a heavy downpour was miserable as well as dangerous. He didn't mention the haters in cars that would try and run us off the road just for the hell of it. He didn't mention being propositioned by horny long-haul drivers non-stop when we'd go to a truck stop for gas and a shower. And of course, he didn't mention that sleeping in a tent as an adult is not nearly as fun at 22 as it was as a kid at age 8.

On top of all that, we kept running out of money. I was able to persuade my parents to deposit $2,000 in my bank account by lying that I needed it to come home. When they figured out I was lying, they cut me off completely, and refused to speak to me unless I left Mammoth. So here I am, stuck in some backwater in the shadow of Mt. Shasta."

"Wow, what's your degree in?"

"It's a BS in Physics. At some point I was hoping to move to where the aerospace jobs are, like Southern California or Houston, and get a job with a NASA contractor."

"That sounds cool."

"Yeah, I just have to earn some money to get out of this shitty little town. What about you, Shaun, what's your deal?"

I figured this was coming, and I was prepared, "I used to live in the Silicon Valley, but was miserable so I sold everything and left it behind. My car broke down a couple of miles out of town, so I decided to stick around." There. Short and sweet; not entirely truthful, but close enough to make her think I'd given a full answer.

"Do you have any family back there?" Ouch, that one stung.

"No one except my brother, but he's an asshole so he doesn't count." I looked at my watch. "It's late, we'd better go. We have to get up early, the restaurant opens at 6." I paid the check, and off we went.

When we got back to the room at the Sugar Pine, we took turns going to the shared bathroom down the hall to brush out teeth, then said goodnight. She went into the bedroom and closed the door; I stripped down to my boxers, pulled out the sleeper sofa, and slid under the covers.

Ordinarily I had no problem falling asleep, but today had been an unusual day to say the least. I'd gotten a job as a dishwasher, faced off against a pissed-off biker, and invited a beautiful 22-year-old to share my hotel room. I was starting to question my own sanity.

Then I heard a soft voice, "Shaun, are you awake?"

"Yes, Cherry, just laying here thinking."

"Could I ask a favor?"

"Sure, I guess, we're roomies after all."

"After today, I'm a little tense and can't fall asleep. Can you come in here and snuggle with me for a few minutes?"

I thought for a minute. She's a scared kid, far from home, could use some kindness. What the hell. If I stayed on top of the covers, we'd be fine.

"Sure, OK, but I didn't know you were Amish." I got out of the sofabed, threw on a t-shirt and some board shorts and entered the bedroom.

"What?" She was completely hidden under the covers, except for her head and arm. I sat on the edge, then moved so I was laying next to her.

"I'm kidding. The custom of sleeping in the same bed with somebody while dressed is called bundling. It has biblical roots and is not really an Amish invention. That's just an urban myth."

I snuggled up next to her and pulled a pillow underneath my head. I could smell my shampoo in her hair. "How's this," I asked softly, "you think you can relax now?"

"Yes, much better," she replied. I was laying on my left side facing her; she rolled onto her left side and moved into me, pulling one of my arms over her. "Thank you for helping me today. It felt good that someone cared about me again."

"Yeah, well," I said in a low voice, "it may have been a big deal to you, but not to me. I'd do the same for anyone." I'm not sure what possessed me at the moment, but then I said, "You really are quite lovely. That guy was not only a moron, I suspect he may have been legally blind."

In a very small voice, almost like a timid child, she replied, "Do you really think so?"

"I said what I said," I answered softly, closing my eyes. Then I felt her move, and her lips pressed against mine in a soft kiss. She then turned back, taking my hand to pull my arm back across her, intertwining her fingers with mine.

'Goodnight, Shaun Parrish," she whispered. I lay there, stunned. What had I gotten myself into?

++++++++++

The next morning the alarm went off at 5am. I shut it off and waited for my head to clear. I was a little disoriented at first, waking up next to a sleeping Cherry underneath the covers. She looked so sweet I was tempted to kiss her forehead, but that would have led to complications I didn't want to think about. She had a natural beauty to her, that was certain.

I gently shook her shoulder, and she blinked, then stretched. As she stretched, the covers slipped down a bit, exposing her cleavage and the tops of her lovely breasts. In spite of myself, I felt my cock beginning to stir. I made a valiant effort to refocus.

"Time to get ready for work, Angel," I said, "breakfast rush waits for no man." Then it hit me like an electric shock; "Angel' is what I used to call Amanda in the mornings. Old habits die hard I guess, sometimes painfully so.

Before I got too far down memory lane, though, Cherry moved around under the covers so she was wrapped around me where I sat on top of them. "Noooo," she whined like a half-asleep little kid, "I don't wanna! Just five minutes more, please?"

She took my hand and kissed it, then pulled it under the covers with her, pressing it between her breasts. The warmth of her flesh against my fingertips was definitely having an effect now, the tip of my hardening dick had slipped out of the left leg of my board shorts.

Fortunately, she quickly rolled over and went back to sleep, freeing up my hand. I went down to the community bathroom, washed my face, brushed my teeth and ran a comb through my hair. A fresh shirt, clean underwear, socks and jeans, I was ready. The sleepy lump in the master bedroom hadn't moved, however.

I gently shook her again, "Cherry, your five minutes is up. Time to get up, or you'll be late." All I got for my efforts was a grunt, followed by Cherry pulling the blankets all the way over her head like a grizzly trying to hibernate. I lifted up the covers on the left side of the bed and saw her left thigh and buttocks.

She'd slept in the nude; warm air rose up, carrying the scent of her natural sweat and the sweet tang of her womanliness. The natural man in me wanted to cover that ass and leg in kisses, but the businessman inside reminded me, "If you're not early, you're LATE!"

As tempting as it was, I could not in all good conscience smack that beautiful butt of hers. Yesterday's violence was too fresh. Instead, took the room's ice bucket and went down to the ice machine at the end of the hall and loaded up. When I got back she'd rolled over so she was laying on her back. Perfect. Taking a handful of ice cubes, I pulled the sheets back and put them in her cleavage.

It was crude, yet effective. She shot out of bed like a Saturn V rocket headed for the moon. I was happy she was awake, but was unprepared to see her fully naked; she was breathtaking. Her tousled long black hair hung over the tops of her big breasts, which had to be 44Ds at least. Her areolas were brown and the circumference of 4" pancakes, with prominent pointed nipples.

She shrieked, "Son of a BITCH!" Grabbing a blanket, she covered herself. "I thought you weren't a pervert," she said accusingly. The way she was holding it, the blanket was doing a poor job of covering her entirely. I was enjoying the glimpses of her bare skin.

Her belly, oh, man, it was big and soft, perfect for a man to cover it with kisses and then bury his face in, with a small roll of fat over her pubic area. She wasn't shaved, but it looked like she had taken the time to trim that tantalizing bush between her legs. It took me only a nanosecond to absorb that image into my memory; I'd probably be masturbating to it the next time I had some privacy.

I was barely containing my laughter, "I'm really sorry, Cherry," I apologized, "the alarm went off and I tried to wake you but it wasn't working."

She pouted, "Well, it's not funny Shaun!" She seemed to be calming down, and I did my best to control my chuckles.

"I'm sorry, Cherry," I said seriously. "Let me step out while you get ready. They have a coffee machine in the lobby, I'll bring you a cup and a pastry."

When I got back, her hair was brushed, her face was clean, and she was dressed in her jeans and one of the new t-shirts I gave her yesterday. The XXL size fit her, but barely. Her breasts stretched the shirt around the chest. "You look great," I told her, "amazing what a good meal and a good night's sleep will do for a woman."

She stepped up to me and took the coffee mug and the pastry I'd wrapped in a napkin for her. Before I could move, she stood up on tiptoe and planted a soft kiss on my lips. "Thanks for taking care of me again," she said softly, "a girl could get used to this."

Holy shit, this woman was throwing me emotionally off-balance. Here I was, bitter, isolated and angry at the world, and damned content to stay that way; taking care of this beauty was flipping my script. I didn't WANT to feel as good as I did. I didn't WANT to enjoy her soft kisses, or the way she was grateful when I helped her. I didn't WANT to think about that luscious young body of hers. Why couldn't I just be miserable?

We arrived at work just in time; Allen and Gina were just coming down the outside staircase that led to their apartment above the restaurant. Gina and Cherry put on their aprons, and went over the day's breakfast specials, the GearJammer Skillet (basically a bed of scrambled eggs topped with sausage, ham, green and red peppers, with a few chopped apples on top) and Olallieberry pancakes with a side of toast and eggs. Since there were no dishes to wash, Allen had me do some of the prep cooking. I wasn't bad at it, we had a good stockpile of scrambled eggs and cooked sausage ready; by the time the first customers came in we were ready to go.

That first morning went well, the customers were straight out of central casting. There was the party of 5 old men that sat at a back corner table and argued how the politicians were screwing things up and how they'd fix things if they were in charge, and the older woman taking her 5-year-old grandchild out for breakfast. There were the ubiquitous truckers, most of whom were regulars, so they didn't need to order, Gina already knew what they wanted. There were also the tourists who were asking questions like "who planted all the trees?'. Spoiler alert: it's called a forest, search it on the Internet.

I stayed in the back, the sounds of people dining mixed with the thrum of the dishwasher combining to make a soothing background as I hand-washed the pots and pans. The emotional pain and anguish I'd carried with me since leaving the Silicon Valley began to ease, although the regrets I had for making my job a priority over my time with Amanda were as strong as ever.