I don't own these characters, they belong to Annie Proulx. Thanks go to victopet for the plot bunny.

Late Reunion
The sun burned hot against the asphalt. It was summer in Wyoming, 1967, and Alex was working a full day. No one could blame him if, as he leaned into the warm breeze to rub his sweaty forehead with a cloth, a single postcard fluttered from his mail sack unnoticed. He took his job seriously and would have contested that it could ever happen, but even if he could be made to admit he might be the cause of the loss of this one tiny piece of mail, he would have asserted that the odds of it being anything important were low. One little white post card doesn't change lives. Especially if it lives and dies to biodegrade alone in a ditch in Riverton, Wyoming.

Summer, 1978
Jack Twist stepped out of his truck to stretch and grab some coffee. Might as well gas up while he was at it. He hadn't planned on making any stops in this part of the state. He was on his way to Helena for a sales conference, goddamn cheapskate LD too stingy to buy a plane ticket, and Jack, never one for long stretches of highway, decided to take the scenic route up the Tetons and 'round Yellowstone. He'd turned off a I-25 at Casper to take 20 to 26 to 89 to Montana 480, I-90, and Bozeman before headin' on to Helena. Was heading through Riverton-- the sign ringing something 'gainst the side of his heart that made his eyes fixate harder on the asphalt ahead of him, more scared to recognize anyone than to not-- when he felt sleepy and saw the tank could use a refill. He tried to stop his thoughts, but simply couldn't. Ennis hadn't returned that post-card. Was a one-shot thing. One shot that had killed Jack years ago, cept'n for a couple a shirts up at his parents' place. A silly boy's dream. Jack wasn't totally unhappy. He had a wife who made him laugh, a son who made him smile, a job that paid the bills, and a boyfriend that made him hit all the right high notes. Jack didn't want to change any a that. He pumped his gas and looked down surely at his boots. Maybe most of all he didn't want the disappointment of lookin' around for the millionth time in fifteen years, seein' a blond head or a tan jacket and feelin' his breath come hard, only to realize it was more of a light brown head a hair, or a leather jacket and not suede. Jack had had enough a disappointments and hope. He had his life now, and he was stuck with that anyway.

"Uh, sorry there." Jack saw a wad of oil-stained paper towels miss the trash can-- and his leg-- by inches.

"'S alright," Jack nodded, picked up the paper himself and threw it away, looked up to give the chap his usual smile-and-nod Texas greeting.

The nod never came, and the smile died on his lips, which suddenly had gone hungry and dry even while his tongue bathed in sweet saliva, desperate to taste again, desperate.

The man didn't make any words either for a minute, a noise dying in his throat, and Jack knew he had to do the initiating as usual, secretly glad that the man hadn't changed much, some secret confirmation that this really was him, that by some fate they were fueling up at the exact same time at neighboring pumps. "Ye... Ennis? That really you?" Jack didn't even bother to keep the low undertones out of his voice.

Shock wore off of Ennis's face then, replaced by something a million times more beautiful to Jack's tired eyes than even a sky full of heaven's stars could ever seem. Ennis smiled. It seemed tight, out of use, awkward, and Jack's leg started jittering a little bit. God he'd use any part of his body he could to make that smile fluid again, natural, well-worn.

"Jack... ye, yuh alright?"

Jack couldn't help it. His eyes drooped closed with the milky sound of voice, of Ennis's voice. "Yeh, friend, I reckon I'm alright now."

He heard the wind settle differently around him, and noticed Ennis was standing closer to him. Jack's eyes flicked down to the bulge in Ennis's pants. Ennis's flicked around the parking lot.

"I'm, uh, got divorced. Livin' out on Eastman Road. Second place on the right. Can't miss it."

"Wouldn't want to, Ennis."

Ennis's eyes flickered around one last time. The place was mostly deserted, but only mostly. He darted out a hand to tap Jack on the shoulder, something like liquid fire shooting through Jack's body as he froze on the spot.

"Yup," Ennis said, clearly stalling for time, didn't want to go. "I, uh, yup. See you then."

"Just give me five to finish up here."

Ennis nodded, got into his truck, and drove away. Jack wasted no time stowing the nozzle. Forgetting all about the coffee he wanted, he asked the attendant which way to Eastman Road, and sped away so fast his transmission groaned at the trouble.

Ennis. Ennis del Mar. Jack had been living completely without him for fifteen years. Jack thought his life was alright. He thought he was pretty fond of Chuck. He could see now that had been a lost cause. He could see he would be a no-show at that conference, probably get fired by fuckin' LD. Jack didn't care. He knew now what a fuckin' idiot he'd been fifteen years ago to drive away from this one, and nothing, not no sucker punch for sure, was going a get Jack back in his truck this time.

The next post card went from Riverton to Childress, and was delivered, no problems. The card read simply, "Bobby heard school was startin tomorow, have a good year. Dad"