Rescue

onto Newbury, Nancy got out to place our order at The King and I. Circling around the oneway streets, I stopped in the wine store at the corner of Exeter Street , buying a chilled bottle of chardonnay before circling? back and picking Nancy up outside the restaurant.
    We headed to South Boston , the food smells wafting up from the take-out bag. At her place, the third floor of a three-family house, Nancy fed Renfield, her slightly gimpy cat, and then dished out the honeyed pork with mushrooms, pad Thai, and white rice as I opened the wine. We ate at Nancy’s living room coffee table, quickly at first, then more slowly, lingering a little over the chardonnay as I put shredded pork in front of Renfield on the floor.
    Nancy swirled some wine in her glass. “You’re doing a good job of spoiling him.“
    “He deserves some spoiling. He’s been through a lot.“
    Renfield had needed an operation on his rear legs to correct a congenital problem that manifested itself after I dropped him once. I’d been the only one around to take care of him after the operation, and the cat had “imprinted“ on me, as the vet called it. What you had to admire about Renfield was the way he came back from essentially having his back legs broken and the kneecaps reset. He couldn’t jump much, but he hadn’t lost the sense of being a cat that had caused Nancy to name him after the character in Dracula who eats small mammals.
    A smile toyed with the corners of Nancy’s mouth. “You’ve been through a lot, too.“
    “The shoulder and knee are just about fine.“
    “I meant all the physical stuff in the pool tonight.“
    “You did everything I did.“
    The smile got saucy. “Does that mean we both should be too tired for any more... physical stuff?“
    I smiled back. “I’m not if you’re not.“
    Setting down her glass, Nancy said, “You know, I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I overheard the college girls talk-mg about you in the locker room.“
    We both stood. “Do I want to hear it?“
    Nancy took my right hand in both of hers and walked me toward the bedroom. “I think so.“
    All right, what did they say?“
    They both thought you were in great shape for your age.“
    We got to the bedroom door and went in. “For my age.“
    “Yes.“
    “You had to tell me that part.“
    Nancy started undoing the buttons on my chambray shirt. “Just reporting accurately.“
    “Well, they don’t know what they’re talking about.“
    “They don’t?“
    “No. For their age, I’m in great shape. For my age, I’m a god.“
    A laugh in her throat as she started on my belt buckle. “Greek or Roman?“
    “We deities disdain any categorizing by mere mortals.“
    The zipper. “I think maybe Mars.“
    “Mars?“
    The slacks. “God of War, John.“
    “Why?“
    “Because...“ The laugh again. “Because of the heft of your... mighty sword.“
    I stepped out of the slacks as Nancy moved over to the bed and sat down, lips trembling.
    “Nance?“
    “Yes.“
    “This is getting embarrassing.“
    She looked me up and down. “Zounds, what a physique.“
    “Nance, enough, all right?“
    Around the strangled laugh. “All right.“
    I slipped out of my briefs.
    Nancy managed all of “Gadzooks“ before keeling over sideways on the bed, hysterical.

    Afterward, we lay cuddled side by side under a sheet and a light blanket. In a snoozy voice, Nancy said, “They also thought your scars were sexy.“
    “Who did?“
    “The college girls. They think you must have led a ‘totally awesome’ life.“
    “They’re right on that, anyway.“
    “I wanted to tell them where each came from, but I didn’t know.“
    I shifted a little. “You know some of them.“
    Nancy worked the covers down a foot on my chest. “Yeah, but not even most of them. This one, for example.“
    “Third grade, fell off my bike.“
    “Onto what, a bayonet?“
    I didn’t say anything.
    Nancy moved her hand southward. “How about this one?“
    “Paper cut.“
    “Over your ribs?“
    “Severe paper cut.“
    A pause. “John?“
    “What?“
    “Does it bother you to talk about your scars?“
    “No. It reminds me of how they happened, which aren’t among my greatest memories, but I don’t mind your asking about them.“
    “Why not?“
    “Why not what?“
    “Why don’t you mind my asking about them?“
    “Because they were a part of my life, and now you’re a part of my life, and I want the current, important part to know about the past, less