Peach Lip Gloss

A Story by Greg Welch

'Awash with old memories'

Saturdays in the Hamilton home were typically spent with Jake sprawled on the couch watching television with silent complaints of how there was never anything worth watching. There were over five hundred channels and not a single show worth watching. It wasn’t the noblest way to spend a free afternoon, but it was what Jake liked to do on those weekends that didn’t involve the lawn being tended or some inconvenient errand.

He was relaxed on his sofa that had long ago been a pale cream color. It had since been stained by his wife’s early morning clumsiness with her coffee and his son’s ability to make a mess out of anything his little hands touched. His eyes were getting heavy when his son entered the room decked out in his green and white little league uniform. He had his bat resting on his shoulder with his new mitt stiffly impaled though the top of it. His little hat was crooked and his shirt had obviously been tucked in haste.

“Dad, you have to take me to my game,” he said scratching his chest where a heat press had plastered the word Hornets in a large green font.

“It’s Saturday, buddy. You don’t have games on Saturdays.”

“We do this week. Remember? We got rained out Thursday. They had to move it to today.”

“Ah, that’s right. I totally forgot.” Jake sat up and stretched. “Is your mom not back yet?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Alright, she must have forgotten too. Just let me put my shoes on and write your mom a note and then we’ll go.”

The note was written on a strip of paper ripped from an envelope that contained one of their many bills.

“At the baseball field. Forgot Cohen’s game was today! See you when we get back. Love you.”

He put the note on the fridge under a small Batman magnet that they had received from his sister-in-law after her family’s most recent trip to six flags.

The ball field was only about five minutes away. The game was just getting started when Jake arrived. He found a seat in the stands and sat hunched over watching. The stands were empty as more and more of the parents were bringing those portable chairs with them. They were the ones with the cup holders in each arm that folded so conveniently when their usefulness was over. He and his wife Stacy had bought two of them last year when Cohen started little league, but they had only remembered to actually bring them once.

He put on his shades as the blazing sun hung just behind a large cluster of pine trees in the far distance. He watched his son behind the dug out tossing a ball back and forth with one of the other boys in an attempt to warm up. Jake never had any athletic interests and it surprised him that his son had always been drawn to sports. He played baseball and soccer and had lately been talking about trying out for basketball.

At nine years old Cohen had played in more athletic competitions than Jake had in his thirty seven years. Stacy had played volleyball in high school and a little at the Y when they first got married. That was the only athletic history he knew in their immediate genes. The boy looked and acted more like his mother the older he got. It was beginning to be hard for Jake to find any trace of himself in Cohen.

After a while the sun had dropped below the tree line and the temperature was finally beginning to cool down, though it had already scorched the metal bleachers so much so that Jake wasn’t able to rest his hands on them. The dry air was still stifling and Jake had made several trips to the concession stand to refill his Coke cup. He was sure that his prostate would remind him of all the caffeine he had consumed when he lay in bed tonight. They were now in the fourth inning and he was grateful for the fact that little league only had six. He cheered Cohen each time he was at bat or made a play in the outfield, but his heart was still on the couch at home.

He leaned back and stretched his legs on the empty row in front of him now. He was really beginning to wish he had remembered one of those comfortable chairs right now. His back was stiff and he knew that when he got up in the morning he would feel it even worse. A long grunt left him involuntarily as he slowly twisted his body from side to side in an attempt to stretch out those stiff muscles in his back.

“Jake Hamilton is that you?” he heard a voice ask from behind. He looked up to his right and saw a woman sitting alone with a small piece of padding between her tan thighs and the metal bleachers. She wore a black spaghetti strap tank top with tan shorts and brown open toed sandals. Her auburn hair had very light streaks of blonde and was a little shorter than her shoulders. A pair of slim sun glasses rested on top of her head holding the hair away from her forehead.

“I’m Jake. Do I know you?” he asked. She was smiling as she stood and came down the stands to sit beside him.

“Jake, it’s me. Gloria,” she said as she sat beside him. “Gloria Matthews.”

“”Oh, man. Gloria, of course.” he said hugging her as best he could without standing up. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. I must… I don’t know. How are you?”

“I’m good. That’s my kid out there. Number four.” she pointed to the tall tan kid standing on second base.

“You’re kidding.” Jake said. “My son is a Hornet. That’s him in the outfield. Number twelve. How come I haven’t seen you out here before?”

“I just recently moved back into town. Dan’s father and I just separated a while back. We are living with my mother for the moment.”

“I’m sorry to hear about that. The separation, I mean. How is Mrs. Matthews?”

“Same as always, still as opinionated as ever. Only older.”

“Yeah, I remember her being…” he paused, drawing a blank. “Outspoken.” That was putting it lightly. He remembered the first time he came over to meet Mrs. Matthews and the interrogation that she subjected him to for a good thirty minutes before they were allowed to leave the house. He also remembered the many times that Mrs. Matthews wouldn’t allow Gloria to leave the house for no good reason.

Jake began to understand as he got older why she was the way that she was. Her husband had died when Gloria was a small child. He was killed by a drunk driver on his way home from a double shift at the local plant. Gloria was all that she had. She would naturally be overprotective. He had always assumed that the same over protectiveness was what resulted in her daughter’s late night escapades becoming the talk of the town years after Jake and her had broken up.

“Outspoken. That’s putting it kindly,” she said laughing. “So, are you still married?”

“Yeah, she’s out grocery shopping today,” Jake answered.

“What was her name again?”

“Stacy. She wasn’t from here. We met right after college while I still lived in Charleston.”

“Does she like the small town life?” Gloria asked.

“She does now. But, it took awhile. Our first year here was a tough one.” It was a year that had several very nice wedding gifts damaged as Stacy attempted to remove Jakes head with them during their screaming contests. It also consisted of more nights spent sleeping on their cream colored couch than Jake cared to remember. In some odd way that year also brought them closer than they had ever been.

Gloria and Jake spoke for what seemed like hours. After the information on current jobs and children’s names was exchanged they began to reminisce on the past and the people that played such and important part in it. Jeff was an English professor at the community college. Cynthia was never seen again after she left for college, and poor Russell died at such a young age from colon cancer last year.

“It’s so funny to see you out here, Jake.” she said.

“Really? Why is that?”

“You don’t remember? This was the first place we kissed.” Jake had forgotten. “Remember? We drove out here at the end of our first date before you took me home. We got out of your car…”

“And we lay on the hood looking at the stars,” he said with a sudden jolt of realization.

“That’s right,” she said. “You know, I still think about that every time I see this baseball field.”

“Man, how old were we?” Jake asked still taken aback by the sudden flood of memories that were currently slapping him in the face.

“Seventeen.” she said with an air of quiet longing in her voice.

“Wow,” Jake said. “It seems like yesterday now that I’m remembering it.”

“It does,” Gloria answered. The both of them looked over the baseball diamond. They looked past their children and the other kids out there playing. They looked into 1989 and they could see themselves on the hood of that car just as clearly as if it had happened yesterday.

The two of them sat in silence until the game was over and their children came running up to them. Cohen’s once white and green uniform was now stained with red clay over almost every inch of it. “Did you see that Dad? We won again.” his dirt stained face seemed to shine in victory. It always did, and Jake always worried that it would lead to an over competitive nature when he got older. The over competitive guys were the ones that Jake always looked at as idiots, and he prayed that his son wouldn’t become one of them. He didn’t want him to feel the need to prove himself.

“You guys did great.” Jake said. He noticed that Cohen had taken notice of Gloria standing beside Jake talking to her own son and wiping the dirt from his forehead.

“Gloria, I would like you to meet my son Cohen,” he said. “Cohen, this is Miss Gloria. She’s an old friend of mine.” Cohen extended his hand and Gloria took it.

“Aren’t you polite? Just like your dad always was,” she said. “This is my son Dan. Dan, this is my old friend Mr. Jake. We went to school together.” Jake noticed that the boy much like his own didn’t resemble his mother very much. The only similarity that he saw was the natural tan they shared.

“Nice to meet you, Dan. You did a great job on second base out there,” Jake said having no idea if he had actually done a great job or not.

“Thank you,” the lanky child answered never looking up.

“Well, we better head out. Stacy is probably finishing dinner about now,” Jake said. “It was great seeing you again, Gloria.”

“It was great to see you too. I’m sure it won’t be the last time. Our kids are on the same team after all.” Her smile suddenly looked sad and full of regret. “Bring your wife next time. I would love to meet her.”

“I will. Take care, Gloria.” He gave her a hug that only touched her from the waist up and he left never looking back at the field.

When they returned home it was as normal a night as any other Saturday. Stacy had fixed a delicious roast and they stuffed themselves and sat in front of the television for most of the evening. Stacy apologized to Cohen for forgetting about his game and promised not to miss another one. Jake was sure that she wouldn’t.

Cohen had gone to sleep on the love seat that sat on the other side of their living room. Jake walked over and scooped him up into his arms like a fragile bag of sand. The boy was slim and lean. Jake could feel his ribs protruding into his forearm. He carried him down the hall to his room attempting to make each step as quiet as possible.

He tucked him into his single bed and pulled his Batman sheets up under his chin snuggly. Cohen turned and grabbed an armful of sheets under his arm. Jake stood for a minute looking at the boy. He smiled and bent down to place a soft kiss on his forehead.

Later that night as he lay awake in bed he began to remember more and more details of that night with Gloria. A night that played such a big part in his life that until now had been pushed to the very back of his mind. It had been long gestating with other old memories, such as his third grade teacher’s name, the first car he remembered his mom driving, the blouse that his wife had worn on their first date, and the color of his first dog.

Every small detail was now in clear focus for the first time in almost twenty years. His heart leapt like it must have all those years ago when he began to think about that night. Why had they stopped seeing each other? That, he could not remember. A brief feeling of frustration overwhelmed him as he thought about something that was so important to him ending for what had to be a silly childish reason.

He remembered it was the beginning of fall. There were gold and rust colored leaves on the ground all around them. The trees were barely dressed as they were more quickly losing the clothing of their foliage. The air was finally becoming chilly and the miserable heat of summer was slowly leaving.

The night was clear and as starry as Jake had ever seen it. They had been to an early movie, as hard as he tried he couldn’t remember which one though. With little else to do they decided to park at the baseball field and look at the stars. It was something that most of the kids in town did.

They climbed on the hood of Jake’s red ‘76 mustang, a car that he still held contempt for because of its unreliability. Jake had turned up the radio so they could listen from the hood. The song playing was “Patience” by Jake’s favorite band Guns N Roses.

“Do you wish on shooting stars?” Gloria asked.

“Yeah, do you?”

“I’ve never really thought about it,” she said. “Maybe I will from now on.” Jake could remember the yellow ribbon that dangled from underneath her ponytail. Her blue jeans were tight, and Jake now remembered covertly sneaking glances at her shapely rear end most of the night. He now wondered if she knew that he was doing it.

She had shown little cleavage that night. Her grey hooded sweatshirt was zipped up almost to her collar bone. Jake didn’t remember what shirt she may have been wearing under it. He only knew that it was white.

“Do you know where you’re going to college yet?” he asked her.

“I don’t know. I may not even go. I have no idea what I want to do with my life. So, why waste mom’s money?”

“That makes sense,” Jake answered. It did make sense. He had not in his life been as enamored with a person as he was with Gloria right then. And he never wanted anything as badly as he wanted to kiss her.

He smile at the thought and looked away quickly. “What are you smiling at?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said.

“Jake, tell me,” she said with a giggle and a breath taking tilt of her head.

“Can I kiss you?” He could feel the sweat on his palms and his heart felt like it was attempting to beat through his chest.

“Why don’t you try and see?” she said. Just thinking about those words still made Jake tingle. What a thing to say. Her dark brown eyes danced with a confidence that Jake knew he would never in a million years possess.

Her beauty had not escaped her own attention. Jake knew now that she was aware of the weapons she had at her disposal and she wielded them with the expertise and accuracy of an Olympic archer. Each look, each touch, and each word was not wasted. They each had a purpose and on that cool fall night they all worked to perfection.

A small gust of wind broke the silence as it sent several clouds of dead leaves swirling across the field. They danced to the sound of their own rustling. It reminded Jake of a small fire the way the orange and yellow colors flickered as they tumbled.

As he slowly leaned in he took notice of three small freckles in the shape of a triangle on her long slender neck. Even though it was fall her skin was still as brown as it had been in July. She smelled of tangerines and honeysuckles. He believed it was a mix of shampoo and lotion. Her wrist was small and fragile in his hand as he took hold of it.

Her lips were soft as he pressed them to his. They tasted like the peach lip gloss that she had been applying and re-applying all night. He was now glad that she had. They separated for a moment and looked into each others eyes. Her obsidian glare was burning a hole into him, and he knew now that it was the first time that he had seen that kind of desire in the eyes of a girl. He then leaned in again, this time it was a deep and long kiss.

“Girl, I think about you every day now. There was a time when I wasn’t sure, but you set my mind at ease. There is no doubt you’re in my heart now.” The voice of Axl Rose could not have echoed truer words at a more appropriate time.

Jake didn’t know for sure how long they stayed at the baseball field entangled on the hood of his car. He was sure that it was hours, but not sure how many. He recalled the numb feeling in his lips and the dizziness he felt when they finally opened their eyes and started to move normally again.

It was a beautiful memory and Jake was grateful to have it again. It now seemed that he would never in a million years forget it again the way he had before Gloria reminded him. It was like an old song that you love for a while and then forget about until you hear it on the radio years later, and your reasons for loving it are again as clear as they were all those years before. However it was a fleeting love, it didn’t last because it was only a song.

He looked at his wife sprawled lazily beside him. Her pale face shining from the moon light that had attached itself to her. She was still as beautiful as when they met. It was an understated and modest beauty, one that could hold weight in any time period.

Stacy was a soul mate to Jake in a way that Gloria never could have been. After all he didn’t even remember why they had broken up. So much fire and passion would have to inevitably explode, and it obviously had. They were just kids, both too young to really know what kind of thing they were starting. It was neither their first or last times, but it was a special time for Jake, and he was grateful to have it again.

Those freckles and that peach taste would always be with Jake. But, what he now looked forward to was being fifty-seven and remembering when he and Stacy brought Cohen home from the hospital, or the memory of moving into their house. Soon those memories would be the old songs that made him smile.

As he turned on his side and faced the window all he could see was the glare of the streetlight below and the grey sky. Jake closed his eyes and tried to picture her there again. He wanted to see her one last time in those jeans and that hoodie; stretched out on the hood of that old beat-up Mustang. He wanted, one final time, to see that bronze skin, those almond eyes and that smile that seemed to hold some knowledge of untold secrets. As he drifted off into sleep he silently sang to himself, “Shed a tear cause I’m missing you. I’m still alright to smile. Girl, I think about you everyday now”. In a few short hours he would feel the gentle tugging of Stacy waking him, but until then he would sleep dreamlessly.