Coach Taylor lay a hand gently on the side of Bonnie's breast and began caressing it through the thin cotton of her sweater. The wine glasses were on the cement porch under the bench, and the fire pit had receded to a low glow. She pulled away.

Deacon sighed. He put his hand on his knee. She never let him get very far. Not even as far as he'd gotten on a typical first date in 9th grade. And frankly, he was horny as hell. It had been a long time since he'd had sex. A very long time. And Bonnie was…well…she was fun. Lively. Unpredictable. He suspected she'd be no different in bed. What the hell was he doing that was so wrong that he couldn't even manage to get past first base?

Maybe it was the fact that he even thought of it as first base. God, it had been a long time since he'd dated. He hadn't even really dated Ivy. They'd been friends, and then he'd been in love, and then they'd been married. And then they'd had sex, because, even though Warren Maddox thought Deacon Taylor had knocked up his daughter, Ivy had actually said "no sex until the wedding night." No girl had ever said anything like that to him before. It might have explained his rush to the altar, in retrospect, but he'd never regretted marrying that woman.

The last time he'd gone on a date, though, he'd still been a teenager. And those girls had practically thrown themselves at him, even back then, pre-sexual revolution. They might not have wanted to go all the way, but they sure had wanted to go a good part of the way. Bonnie just seemed to want to pedal in place.

"I should probably be going," she said. "I saw the light on in Tami's room. She's home. She's going to be wondering what I've been doing over here for so long."

"Well, you haven't been doing a thing."

Bonnie raised an eyebrow.

He immediately regretted his tone and modified it. "I had a good time tonight. Did you?" He wondered if she had. He seriously wondered.

"I did," she said. "Thank you for the wine."

She slid away from him on the bench and seemed about to stand up when she paused. "Deacon, may I be I frank with you?"

"You always are." He stared into the glowing embers. "So go ahead and pull the bandaid off." He'd tried so hard to grow up for Ivy, to be a dependable husband and father, that maybe he'd grown up too much. He figured Bonnie was probably going to say that she'd decided she wasn't attracted to him, that he was too square for her. Not that anyone used that word anymore, square. That was kind of a square word to use. But she would say he was too boring, perhaps. Predictable. Unadventurous. Not the sort of younger, exciting, and more enlightened men she was used to dating.

"I really like you."

Or maybe she wasn't going to say that.

"I do, but…"

Or maybe she was.

"…I want to take things slowly. Maybe very slowly. And I completely understand if you don't want to do that. You're a man, and a fairly..." She smiled, "masculine man at that. I'm sure you had a vigorous sex life with your wife."

Coach Taylor flushed as red as the embers in the fire pit.

"So if you'd rather not continue this, and you'd rather date someone who will jump into bed with you sooner, I won't hold it against you. We can still be friends."

"I don't want jump in bed with someone else. I want to jump in bed with you." Oh shit. Had he really said that? In those words?

She laughed. "Well, it's not going to happen anytime soon."

"Very well."

"Very well?"

"Mhm." He nodded. "Very well."

"Very well…you're ending it?"

"No! Very well, I'll….wait."

"It could be a long wait," she warned him.

"I've got not nothing better to do with my free time."

She laughed again. She leaned in and kissed him, softly, with a little tongue. Bonnie pulled away and glanced up at the lighted window in the second story of her small house next door. "I bet she's writing Eric. There was a letter from him on the counter."

"I wonder what they say to each other. My son's not much of a talker."

"I wonder where he gets that from?" Bonnie asked with a twinkle in her green eyes.

"I was listening tonight. To you. I'm a good listener. That's what Ivy always used to - " He stopped abruptly.

"You're going to mention her from time to time. It's okay. I'm not trying to compete with your dead wife. I'm sure there's no one who can compete anyway. You were married for years and years. But just because you had a six-course dinner doesn't mean you can't enjoy a burger."

Coach Taylor shifted his hat up on his head. "I don't think you're a burger. I think you're probably a fine sirloin that has to marinate for a long while."

She grimaced. "That was a terrible line."

He slid off his hat and scratched his forehead. "Yeah it was, wasn't it?"

"Kind of cute, though." She leaned over and kissed him again, more quickly this time, and stood. "I've really got to get going so I can get ready to steam open that envelope and read that letter Tami's just wrote."

"You do that?" Coach Taylor's voice rose on the that.

Bonnie laughed. "No, of course not! Can't say I'm not tempted, though."

He stood. "Well, if you ever succumb to temptation, let me know what's in them."

She smiled, waved goodbye, and headed back toward her house, as though he wasn't going to walk her there. He corrected that misconception, and left her at the back door with another kiss.

[*]

When Tami came into the kitchen to put her envelope in the to-mail pile, Aunt Bonnie was looking out the window wistfully at Coach Taylor, who was cleaning out the ashes from his fire pit in the back yard.

"Why didn't you just stay longer instead of moping after him through the window?" Tami asked. "You're an adult. You don't have a curfew like me."

Aunt Bonnie turned around. "Is that a letter to Eric?"

"Nice subject change."

"Your curfew is perfectly reasonable, Tami. I'm not your mother, but I'm not your best friend either."

"No, you're the semi-cool aunt," Tami said with a smile. She opened the fridge and pulled out a diet Coke. "So tell me how not to be nervous about my musical tomorrow. And don't tell me to imagine the audience naked. There are a lot of gnarly boys in that audience."

[*]

Tami wasn't expecting the flowers at the end of the show. She thought they were from Mo at first, until she realized they were from Aunt Bonnie. She'd watched from the front row. Coach Taylor had sat beside her, occasionally holding her hand throughout the production, which Tami guessed must mean their relationship was officially public. Not that either of them had been hiding it before, but it was one thing for them to date outside of a school and another for Tami to have to hear, "Who's the hot number with Coach Taylor?" backstage from the boys. "He's done well for himself!"

"Nice tits!" one said.

"Hey! That's my aunt!"

"Sorry, Tami."

Tami had thought drama was supposed to have a lot of gay guys. It hadn't worked out that way. All of these guys were not only not gay, but they were too often trying to get a peak into the girl's dressing room.

Mo at least didn't join in the backslapping. He grinned at her, though, and asked, "So your aunt is dating Coach Taylor? That's interesting."

"What's interesting about it?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I guess it's not weird for you. He's not your Coach. And he's not your teacher for anything."

"Because he doesn't teach anything." Other than a athletics class and a weight lifting class, which consisted primarily of his team members, Coach Taylor didn't teach. He served as an Athletic Director and apparently did a lot of paperwork and scheduling and ordering of equipment.

"I wonder how Eric's going to take Coach dating her," Mo mused. "He kind of flew off the handle when his mom died."

"Well, it's a big deal," Tami said. "Your mom dying! If everyone was expecting him to just go on as normal and act like nothing was wrong, no wonder he flew off the handle!"

"Why so defensive of Eric?" Mo asked suspiciously. "What's he telling you in those pen pal letters?"

"Nothing much. Just stuff about the ranch. It's just...you know. I lost my dad. Not the same way, but I didn't make the best choices after he took off."

"What kind of not-best choices did you make?"

Tami looked around at the actors and actresses moving in and out of the dressing rooms. "I need to get changed."

[*]

Later, when she exited the theater into the hallway, Aunt Bonnie was looking in the trophy case while Coach Taylor was telling her about Bowie Highs various sports awards. "And what's this one?" she asked, pointing to a plaque. "Texas High School Football Coach of the Year?"

"Aww...that...uh..." Coach Taylor scratched the back of his head. He didn't have his cap on. He'd come in khakis and a button down shirt tonight. "That was a losing season. I don't know why I got that. Something about building the boys' characters, they said."

Aunt Bonnie smiled. Coach Taylor noticed Tami and turned away from the case. Tami's aunt asked her, "Are you ready to head home?"

"I can take her, Ms. Hayes," Mo announced from behind her. He'd followed her out of the theater. "Some of the drama kids are going out for ice cream. Post-show, thing, you know."

"I don't know any ice cream place that is open past eleven p.m.," Aunt Bonnie said. "And it's 10:45. And Tami's curfew on Saturdays is midnight."

Mo scratched his ear. "Well...uh..."

"I hear the drama parties are worse than the football parties," Coach Taylor told Aunt Bonnie in a low whisper, though Tami heard. "Drugs instead of just alcohol."

"Yeah, I think Tami's going to catch a ride home with us, Mo," Aunt Bonnie said. "But you're welcome to take her out to brunch tomorrow." She smiled, put a hand on Tami's shoulder, and began ushering her out the door.

Tami was irritated at her aunt for being meddlesome, but she also hadn't really wanted to go to the after-party. After losing her virginity to a near stranger in another absolute stranger's bedroom, while music thundered downstairs, those kind of parties had lost their allure for her. "I'll call you," she told Mo over her shoulder.