Plain Janie

February 7th

December and January were gone, taking their frigid days and bitter cold nights with them. That was little solace to Craig. The March winds were a month premature, a roaring lion that slashed it’s icy claws across the freshly blacktopped parking lot.

Craig had waited long enough inside the cab of his burgundy minivan, then on the hood where his backside soaked up the last of the engine’s warmth. He hastened up the concrete steps to the Cooper Falls library, stopping only when he heard his name called.

He spun around to see his stepbrother jogging through the parking lot.

The big man called Craig’s name again. His breath formed clouds, making him look like a steam locomotive chugging between the parked cars. Harvey’s boots battered the asphalt, splattering puddles of ice water as he huffed. “Damnit, I can’t believe she called you.”

“I guess Janie didn’t feel like sitting around all day.”

“All day? I’m only…” He glanced at his wristwatch. “Damn. Three hours.” He offered Craig a goofy, apologetic smile. “Guess I lost track of time.”

“You’ve lost track of something,” Craig said, continuing up the stairs. He wanted to gloat. Making Harvey feel bad was his medicine, it sustained him, but the cold had penetrated his flesh, lodging in his bones. He wanted to get inside.

Harvey grabbed his coat, halting their ascent. “Oh Jesus, Craig you should have seen her. Tall, skinny as a willow tree and the sexiest accent I’ve ever heard.”

Craig’s eyes tumbled in their sockets. He didn’t want to hear about another of his stepbrother’s conquests.

“Her name’s Maria, she’s from Argentina. I spent four of the most glorious hours of my life in her bedroom. She does these things with her legs.” Harvey closed his eyes and bared his teeth. “I’m telling you man, she could smash pumpkins between those thighs.”

“That’s your justification for skipping out on my sister?” Craig asked. “Sleeping with a girl you hardly know?”

“Let me recap for you: tall, Argentine and pumpkin-smashing thighs.” He counted her distinctive features on his fingers. “I just wished I’d asked for her number.”

“That’s my stepbrother Harvey; bartender by night, man-whore by day.”

“A lot of interesting people come into The Cumberland,” Harvey said. He shoved Craig against the iron handrail of the library steps. The move was not entirely playful. “Is it my fault that the most interesting of those people are women?”

“Your bar is just down the street from Janie’s apartment. Would it be so hard for you to remember her once in a while? Mr. Roth pitched a fit at me today and that was before I took off this afternoon. The station is going to fire me if I have to keep shuttling my little sister home.”

Harvey smoothed the back of his dark hair and frowned. “Great, I’m going to catch enough shit from Plain Jane for being late. What’s she going do to me if I cost her beloved big brother his job?”

“She’d strangle you.” She would strangle him if she heard his Plain Jane remark.

The heater was turned up too high in the library. Craig shimmied out of his heavy wool coat somewhere between wiping his soggy boots on the doormat and almost slipping on the wet parquet. Harvey’s leather coat swished beside him as he approached the front desk.

Mrs. Henderson busied herself scanning the barcodes of returned books. She stacked them on piles already precariously high. The librarian looked up from her computer as the two young men approached.

“Hello Craig. Jane is in the juvenile section. She volunteered to take over story time while she waited for him.” The middle-aged woman’s face hardened as she fixed her eyes on Harvey.

“You know, I don’t think she likes me,” Harvey murmured.

“She’s not alone.” Craig grabbed the shoulder of Harvey’s coat and dragged him through the library.

They approached an area free of shelves. A few pressboard folding tables had been set up for studying and other activities. There were normally a few children milling about this section of the library, except for when Jane had story time.

He could hear his sister’s voice clearly. He passed around a long shelf brimming with Seuss, Silverstein and other S’s and stopped by a dwarf coat rack. Tiny coats, little puffs of nylon, polyester and fleece hung from the curved branches like ornaments on a Christmas tree.

Jane sat on a plastic stacking chair, a semicircle of children were seated on the floor before her. She held up a picture book and squinted behind her thick red-rimmed glasses to read the bold printed words aloud. “Never, shouted the Cakemaker. I can never be defeated, not even by five fruits a day.”

Harvey cleared his throat and flailed his arms trying to capture her attention. Some of the children looked over, distracted by his movements.

Craig grabbed one of his stepbrother’s arms and stilled it. “Let her finish,” he whispered.

The children giggled as she read. Silly voices sprang from her throat bringing each character to life. She could bring anything to life. He only listened for a short time, after a few minutes she finished the story and clapped the book shut.

Jane uncrossed her legs and climbed out of her seat. Her long wooly skirt almost dragged the ground. “Next week is book two in the Fruit Brigade trilogy. Mrs. Henderson will take over where I left off.”

The children groaned and complained, they didn’t want to listen to Mrs. Henderson. “I suppose I can spare an hour next week. Even if it is Valentine’s Day.”

She helped the smallest child get bundled into a tiny black parka, then grabbed her own periwinkle coat from the floor near the tiny rack and struggled to burrow her arms through the padded sleeves. She reached in her pocket and stretched a stocking cap over her coppery mane of tight curls. Craig tugged to center the crocheted cap on the crown of her head. “Thanks, Mom,” she said, slapping his hand away.

“The Fruit Brigade?” Harvey examined the book and snickered.

“You should read it sometime,” she said.

Harvey flipped through a few pages. “I didn’t know an orange slice could be so proficient at hand-to-hand combat,” he said. “I never read books like this when I was a kid.”

“This is the juvenile section,” Jane said. A childlike grin brightened her face. “You were probably reading in the juvenile delinquent section.”

“If your claws were as sharp as your wit you’d be dangerous Plain Jane.”

Her cheeks went red beneath the spray of freckles. She acted like the insulting nickname no longer bothered her. Craig knew better, he put a hand on her shoulder to show her as much.

“Let’s go.” She grabbed Craig with her own gloved hand and pulled him out of the library. They were in the parking lot and Craig was fumbling for his keys when Harvey’s harsh voice bit through the wind.

Harvey caught Jane’s free hand and pulled her in the opposite direction. “I promised I’d take you home,” Harvey said.

“Yeah, three hours ago,” Craig retorted, pulling her towards his van.

Her slender arms stretched wide apart. She was the rope in a game of tug-of-war between the two men. Her face twisted in pain. “Are you two trying to pull my arms out of their sockets? Let me go!”

Craig wasn’t about to let his stepbrother win. He gripped his sister’s hand all the tighter.

Harvey chose that moment to obey her command, a move that was completely out of character. He released her hand, sending both she and Craig to the frigid pavement.

“Nice job, Craig.” She punched him in the chest through the thick wool coat.

Craig helped her up while Harvey did a poor job of not laughing.

Jane went to the passenger side of Craig’s burgundy minivan, she waited for him to unlock the door. “I just got the Chevelle washed. She’s all shiny and silver,” Harvey said. “Come on Jane.” His plea had no effect, she climbed in her brother’s minivan.

Craig grabbed his stomach. He pretended to shake with mocking laughter. Harvey retaliated with a middle finger.

“I don’t know what’s sadder, that you’re twenty-eight and still single or that you’re twenty-eight, single and drive a minivan.” They were stopped at a traffic light when she spoke.

Craig turned and studied his sister. Their mother had never been this bad. She had meddled in a lot of his business but always steered clear of his love life. “The van wasn’t my first choice. Kelly talked me into it, she wanted kids.”

“Last I checked Kelly wasn’t around anymore.” He knew Jane wasn’t trying to be cruel. “She’s been gone for three years. I’m not suggesting you carouse like Harvey, but it shouldn’t be so hard for a great guy like you to find someone.”

His wife wouldn’t have left if he was so great. Why didn’t she clean the specks off her glasses so those pretty eyes could see him for the loser he was. Those eyes, hazel with flecks of gold, he had never seen anything like them.

The car behind him honked it’s horn. Craig looked up and stepped on the accelerator. He wondered how long the light had been green. “I appreciate the concern, Janie, but I’m doing the best I can.”

She giggled and snorted. “You can do better,” she said. “Next Monday is Valentine’s Day.” He reminded her that he owned a calendar. “Do you have any plans?”

“You mean other than work?”

“I mean a date.”

“No, I’ve been too busy—”

“Not too busy to pick me up from work every other day.”

He pulled into the parking space in front of her dilapidated apartment complex. “I’m never too busy for my little sister.”

“That’s the problem.” She bridged the gap between their seats and kissed his cheek. “Just a heads up, I asked Harvey to give me a ride home tomorrow.”

Craig smirked. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Before he could say goodnight she was running through the cold to reach her door. He turned on his headlights and headed home.

February 8th

“Oh Harvey.” The mocha-skinned princess rolled the R in his name over her talented tongue. A tongue that was put to good use servicing every inch of his genitals.

“Oh baby. That is mucho hot.” Her anaconda-like tongue wrapped and squeezed the sensitive head of his dick. He grabbed two handfuls of thick black hair and shoved his penis further into her sucking mouth. His balls tensed before depositing multiple squirts of his thick, bitter seed down her esophagus.