The Home Front Read Free

festive with that big bow on its hood.
    Rose’s eyes lit up when she caught sight of it, but the rest of her face remained impassive. Todd could see she was trying not to get her hopes up. It was her birthday and there was a Jaguar parked in her driveway. But girls like her didn’t own sports cars. She had been raised with very modest expectations, which made surprising her easy and all the more enjoyable. Sometimes Todd wished he had pursued a more lucrative profession so she’d have that look on her face more often.
    Bill jumped out and made a show of polishing the hood of the car with his sleeve. Then he joined the dozens of soldiers watching from the street. Rose kept looking back and forth, from the car to Todd’s face, trying to figure out what was going on. Then all the guys started singing “Happy Birthday.” Rose’s eyes were flashing with excitement, but she still couldn’t believe it.
    “What’s going on, Todd?”
    “It’s yours, baby. Happy birthday.”
    She threw her arms around him and all the guys started clapping and whistling. She was anything but prudish. Neither were they. But there was something so inherently sexual about the whole scene they started to disperse. Rose was blushing the color of the ribbon and she had never looked more beautiful. Todd had the impulse to pick her up and carry her to the car, but the gesture seemed out of place. This present was all about Rose being in the driver’s seat, not him.
    “Let’s take her for a spin.”
    They ran out to the driveway, holding hands. Rose circled the car several times, dragging Todd along to look at every gleaming inch of her. She made him pet the hood ornament before they climbed in. When her bare legs touched the leather seat, she collapsed deep into its embrace. The car fit her like a glove.
    Jaguars purr. When she turned the key in the ignition the engine vibrated smooth and steady and low to the ground, ready to pounce. She glanced over at Todd. He’d been watching her the whole time. His face looked like the car sounded. She caught sight of herself in the rearview mirror. She looked like the morning after, and they hadn’t even left the driveway.
    The security checkpoint guards must have also heard about the Jaguar. They waved her through the gate so she wouldn’t have to slow down. Rose hit the highway already doing seventy. It felt like they were crawling along until they hit ninety. The highway shot straight as an arrow through the desert. Occasional trucks flew by, trailing quick blasts of wind in their wakes. Otherwise there was nothing but the open road and gas stations spaced at strategic intervals, like pit stops.
    Todd couldn’t take his eyes off Rose’s hands on the wheel. She let it play through her fingers and then gripped it tightly. The alternating delicacy and mastery drove him crazy. He knew exactly what her hands felt like, taking control that way. Rose was keenly aware of the focus of Todd’s attention. His thigh flexed every time she reached for the stick. Gripping the wheel was a way to steady herself, not the car, to postpone the inevitable as long as possible.
    The faster they went, the less clear the distinction between car and driver. Everything was close at hand, intimate. She could flick every switch on the dash without taking her hands off the wheel. The proximity of the engine made every pumping piston feel like an extension of her body. The pavement itself was just inches away, within reach. They could feel it unfurl beneath them, miles and miles of open road with a magnetic vanishing point pulling them faster and farther, irresistibly.
    Rose spotted the motel first, a classic roadhouse with flashing neon signage and several semis parked out back. She screeched into the parking lot and told Todd to wait in the car. She disappeared into the office, emerging a minute later with keys dangling from the forefinger of the same hand that had so recently gripped the stick. They spent the afternoon in Room