Lovers & Liars

The thing about riding a motorcycle over long distances is that there’s not a whole lot you can do other than make sure you don’t kill yourself or let somebody do it for you. At the time, there was no such thing as iPods or other devices where you can fill the time listening to music. However, to this day, I never distract myself with these things while I’m riding. For me, now as then, I fill the miles thinking about stuff or maybe hearing songs in my head, and that’s what I was doing when I was heading north to Monterey… thinking about stuff. 
Stuff, in this case, was pushing back every time thoughts of Angie popped into my consciousness. I was trying to concentrate on my driving and heeding Emmett’s advice about not going too fast when without warning, Gunner sprang from the shadows and dominated my thoughts. I tried to push her away, too, but no matter how hard I tried to replace her image with something else, she remained in the forefront. 
Gunner. The card she had given me appeared in my mind’s eye: Annette E. Gunther, MA. Gunther…Gunner. So that’s where her nickname came from. Not exactly an epiphany, but something to consider as I rolled along. Then I started wondering about the occupation listed on her card. Financial Planner. I couldn’t quite see her as a financial anything except that she obviously had planned to marry a guy who was financially pretty damn secure. I laughed thinking about it. Well, that took some planning. But why did she ask me to call her? What kind of planning was behind that? 
I turned left on Route 41 and headed toward Atascadero. Stopping at a filling station, I fished a dime from my pocket, stuck it in the pay phone and called the number on Gunner’s card. She picked up on the third ring. 
I took a breath and blurted out, “Hi. It’s Richard. You asked me to call you if I was ever in the vicinity and I’m in the vicinity.” 
I could hear the surprise in her voice. “Rick?” 
“Yep, it’s Rick, the Harley guy. You remember me, right?” 
She laughed. “Where are you exactly?” 
“I’m at a 76 station on the 41 just outside of Atascadero.” 
“Okay, I know where that is. Listen, just stay there and I’ll come down and guide you to my place. It’s a little hard to find. I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes, okay?” 
“I’ll be here.” I heard the phone click. I began to wonder if this was such a good idea. She sure seemed anxious to see me. On the other hand, what about her husband? He sure gave me the evil eye when I left them. Did he see Gunner give me that kiss? I was getting nervous. 
I put some gas in the bike and used the restroom. There was a Coke machine outside. I put in a nickel, opened the lid and slid a bottle out of the rack. Using the bottle opener on the outside of the box, I popped the cap and took a long drink. One more slug and the six ounces were gone. A horn blew. It came from an MG convertible sports coupe. Gunner flung open the door, jumped out and ran over to me. I just stood there flat footed as she threw her arms around me and gave me a wet kiss on the mouth. 
“Damn,” she squealed. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. What a surprise!” She kissed me again, dropped her arms and said, “Get on your bike and follow me.” She ran over to her car and started the engine. 
She pulled up in front of a four car garage, remotely opened the overhead door and drove the MG inside. She got out of the car, opened the adjacent overhead door and motioned for me to drive in. When I got off the bike, Gunner again put her arms around me. Her green eyes were flashing as she looked into my eyes. I’m sure she saw my astonishment. 
“Here we are. Just you and me. I hope you’re not too tired from riding today.” She paused and pushed back, raising one eyebrow. “Are you?” 
As you may have gathered by now, I’m not the kind of guy who gets easily flustered but I’ve got to tell you, that damn girl had my head spinning. I thought, I’d better jump on my bike and get the hell out of here. 
Instead I stammered, “Ah, what’s going on here? I mean…” 
Gunner laughed. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not the big bad wolf and you’re not Little Red Riding Hood. Relax. It’s okay.” She smiled, took my hand in hers and squeezed. “C’mon. Get your stuff off the bike and follow me.” 
“Here’s your bedroom. Like it?” she asked. 
“Yes, sure, it’s real nice but…” 
“Relax, I’ll lay it all out for you. Don’t worry.” 
Back in the living room, she took off her windbreaker and casually tossed it on a chair. As she crossed the room to the couch, I had a chance to study her. The last time I saw her she’d been wearing jeans, boots and a heavy jacket. Now, in a slim plaid skirt, loafers and a pale blue sweater, she was a vision. Her red hair tumbled down her neck and shoulders, her legs were just exactly the kind of legs you’d want on a girl and…well, let’s just say that this gal was a peach. 
She took a seat on the couch and motioned for me to sit next to her. “Now listen, I want to explain some things. First of all, don’t call me Gunner. It’s not a name I really like. My name is Annette. You can call me Ann if you like. Okay. Actually, I’m not married to Royce although people around here think we’re married and we just let it go at that since two unmarried people living together is a sin, at least in most people’s minds. Right?” 
I’m fairly sure my mouth dropped open. 
She didn’t wait for an answer but hurried on. “A few years ago Royce’s company sent some people out to recruit employees and they came up to UC Berkley. It was 1956 and I had just finished the Master’s program and got an interview. Bottom line, they hired me and I went to work in their LA office. Royce called me in for a chat and we started dating, so to speak. He had recently divorced so I figured what the hell. He’s a good looking guy and really rich.” She leaned in close and asked, “Are you with me so far?” 
“Absolutely.” I smiled. “You saw a good thing and you went for it. Why not? 
I gazed into those marvelous green pools of light, leaned toward her and kissed her. Her mouth opened and her tongue searched for mine. 
Reluctantly breaking the kiss, I said, “I’m going to take a long, hot shower and then we’ll see what happens.” 
We sat in front of the fireplace on a tapestry upholstered loveseat sipping our drinks, making small talk interspersed with kisses. I was wearing a pair of Chino slacks and a T-shirt. She wore a white silk robe emblazoned on the back with a colorful Chinese dragon and embroidered with some red and blue decorations on the front. A tie made of the same material around her waist kept the robe closed, more or less. I could tell that she was wearing nothing underneath. For that matter, neither was I. When we had dispatched the second drink, she laid her gla