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When he ended a conversation it was buried and forgotten.
     
    “Fine, I will call Greyden and have him come over then. I’m not sitting here bored all night,” I said and stood. I slipped in the house and grabbed the phone before Dad could even argue. He would more than likely allow it since Greyden was such a close friend and he had a little trust for the boy.
     
    An hour later Greyden rolled up in a red Chevy S10 that his father had handed down to him. He hadn’t quite filled in yet. He was tall but lanky. He still had the same shoulder length blonde hair tucked behind his slightly oversized ears and he didn’t have the facial scruff that he sported today .
     
    I smiled thinking about his baby face back then.
     
    Dressed in blue jeans, a short sleeved button up shirt and a new pair of boots, he jumped out of the truck and jogged towards the steps. He was always in a hurry to see me. I realized this later on.
     
    We curled up in the small sitting room where we had the world’s ugliest but most comfortable couch and a small television and VCR. He brought over some B rated horror flick and the first time I pressed my face into his arm to hide my eyes, he lifted my chin and pressed those pillow lips to mine. It was our first kiss. We didn’t even get to use tongue before my father walked in and caught us.
     
    With as innocent as it was, my father still blew his lid. He refused to imagine any man touching me no matter my age. He snatched Greyden up by the collar, ripping it and tossed him out. As Greyden tore off down the dusty road my father sounded off his shotgun up in the air as a threat. I rolled my eyes and climbed the stairs to my bedroom.
     
    That was another time that I went more than a week without talking to my father. It was also the last time I had dared to kiss Greyden until after my father died.
     
    I heard the screen door creak open and I opened my eyes to find Greyden peering down the porch at me. I smiled and slid over in the swing. Joining me, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and I tucked into him. He kissed my forehead and rested his head against mine.
     
    “I talked to that guy at the bar. Name is Murphy. He’s going to be in town for a bit, needs some work,” I could feel Greyden nod. “He is good at restoration. I could use a heavy hand in the shop for a bit. Maybe get him to work on Betty. I’ve also got Charlie bringing in that Bel Air,” I added. Betty was my truck. He nodded again. I didn’t expect him to be excited and shouting his approval. Even if he hated the idea of it all, he wouldn’t argue with me either. He knew I would do it anyway. His silence told me he wasn’t sure of it but he wasn’t going to protest. We swung in silence for a moment.
     
    “Keep your gun in your toolbox,” was all he had to offer and then stood and took my hand. I allowed him to guide me into the house with the screen door slamming behind me. We headed into the kitchen and sat down for dinner. He had made chicken and potatoes. I loved when he cooked. We ate slowly and talked about his work out at the fence. There were always absurd rumors floating between shifts about the stuff they thought they had witnessed over the fence. With Area 51 resting beyond it the guys could make up some creepy shit.
     
    After we finished I gathered the dishes and headed to the sink. Glancing out the window I could see the clear night sky. The weatherman said tonight’s low would be in the forties. I loved it when the temperature began to drop this time of year. I heard the television turn on in the sitting room. I was sure Greyden was laid out on the same couch we kissed on eight years ago. I refused to get rid of that hideous blue and green thing.
     
    I began drying a plate with a red dish towel and I nearly dropped it when two hands slid around my waist followed by thick arms and a kiss on my neck. I smiled and leaned my head back against Greyden’s shoulder. He waited for me to finish drying the dishes