The Nose Knows

The dirt under her multicolored fingernails left a trail down his lower back as Jane Sanderson methodically clawed her way down his spine. Her legs wrapped around his waist so tight that her thighs made it hard for him to breathe. It didn't help that the rest of her calves crossed over and locked at the ankles, keeping him firmly in place. She continued using her heels as spurs against his buttocks aggressively to signal him to keep the motion.

Then it happened again for the fifth time in the span of two minutes and this time she would have to throw in the towel. Her heart could not beat any faster and her lower extremities could no longer hold her prey captive. Her aging body relented, much to the dismay of her carnal desire to continue. With a final shudder and a lip biting moan of ecstasy, Jane Sanderson's toes uncurled, and her feet unhooked themselves, then her legs slid off the sweaty body of her lover and landed to a muddled thud against the white goose down comforter that was part of a neatly made bed less than ten minutes ago.

She lay on her back with her hair matted in sweat against her forehead. With pursed lips, she blew a strand of her curled bangs away from her left eyelid. "Wow." One arm dangled off the side of the bed while the other wiped the sweat off her brow.

He lay there beside her, on his back, staring at the texture of the ceiling, trying to focus on a spot to gather his thoughts. "Yeah, wow."

Jane Sanderson floated her free hand to the nightstand, where her fingers walked along the surface until they reached her phone, which was buzzing frequently throughout her sexual escapade. A swipe of the screen revealed over a dozen notifications from her dating app. She scrolled through the messages with a raised eyebrow. The first message let her know that her anonymous hookup partner was running late, the subsequent messages relaying further delays and begging for patience and forgiveness.

She turned to the man that had exhausted her to a point of dehydration and said, "You're funny. You know, you were actually early, right?"

The man with his eyes half closed and on the brink of falling asleep forced his eyelids open and turned his head to face Jane. He was able to discern the fine details of her freckles and large pores along her cheeks. "Huh?" Wrinkles appeared on his forehead as he attempted to decipher what Jane had just said. He hadn't seen Jane's face clearly, outside the blur of motion, since she pulled him into her apartment and shut the door behind them.

"All of these messages, silly. Your phone probably needs to be restarted because your messages came in while we were... You know?" Jane held up her screen so he could see the notifications.

He squinted at first and then moved his head closer to the screen. "Hey, that's not the Mobile Munchies app."

"The Mobile Munchies app?" She turned to look at the phone. "No, it's your messages from TacoRocko."

His eyes widened and the contours of his face shifted from aloof to jaw dropping dread. "Lady, those aren't from me. I'm the Mobile Munchie delivery guy."

"Wait, what?" Jane Sanderson quickly pulled up the corner of the comforter she was lying on and covered herself as much as she could.

"Yeah, your lasagna from Eats-a-Lotta is still outside your front door." He sat up, chest bare, belly extended and resting on his lap. As the post coital clarity seeped in, he looked into Jane's eyes and back at the phone she was holding. "You didn't order lasagna, did you?"

"No! Oh my gosh!" Jane's jaw dropped and she looked at the stranger in her bed and then at the messages on her phone. At that moment, another message came with the familiar sultry melodic TacoRocko notification. The message read: I'm only a half a block away. See you soon, can't wait.

Jane quickly yanked at the remaining length of the comforter, nudging the delivery driver off her bed as she cocooned herself into the sweat and sex-soaked bedding.

The man stood up, only wearing a smartwatch and a pair of socks. His clothing still scattered about in unknown locations throughout Jane Sanderson's cramped, yet cozy, apartment. His hands folded over his genitals in an attempt at modesty.

Jane eyes broke out in tears, and she began to stifle a cry of panic that came out as a chuckle, which quickly broke out into a full laugh of hysterics. Her freckled cheeks turned flush as the blood rushed through her body at a frantic pace to match her heartbeat.

The man turned to the side, trying to obstruct his privates from her gaze. He began to shiver. The former beads of sweat had now cooled from the air that flowed through the ventilation system as the cooling system cycled on. His chilled panic turned to confusion and then to amusement as laughter filled the room. "That actually happened." He tried not to laugh but the clarity of the absurdity broke him, and he joined Jane in a hearty chuckle.

"I'm Jane, by the way."

"I'm Ed, pleased to meet you."

Jane gave his nakedness a quick once over, "Yeah, I bet you are."

Ed looked around the room, scanning for the whereabouts of his clothing and affirming Jane's comment. "I should get dressed." He paused and shrugged his shoulders at Jane as a sign for some help.

"Oh? Right. They're here somewhere. Give me a sec." Jane Sanderson pointed to a five-drawer chest and asked Ed to toss her some undergarments and other articles of clothing. He obliged. She promptly slipped into her clothes under the covers and emerged in a T-shirt and sweatpants.

Ed stood in a corner while Jane circled her bed and explored the floor. "Nope, not here. Follow me." She opened her bedroom door and entered a narrow hallway. "Found one." She picked up his boxers and tossed them over her shoulder where he quickly snatched them mid-air. She continued down the corridor. Ed followed close behind, hopping into his undergarment one leg at a time, trying not to fall.

Jane entered the main room which was where the entry door was located. She pointed to a lampshade in one corner where Ed's shirt dangled haphazardly as a fire hazard. Ed quickly retrieved his shirt.

She circled past the sofa, a coffee table, and a pile of scattered magazine cutouts. "Where could it be?" she said to herself aloud.

"Nice place you have here."

"Thanks. It's a little out of sorts at the moment."

"Oh, I’ve seen worse, believe me."

"I'm sure you have. How long have you been a delivery driver for... Eats-a-Lotto?" She entered the kitchenette and searched underneath the dining table.

"Only a few months. It's a side gig while something better comes up."

"Oh? You married or attached?" Jane pulled out chairs, lifted up dinner plates and looked underneath them in her continued search.

"No. What about you? I mean, outside of the whole TacoRocko thing."

"That's a whole other story." She peeled opened the refrigerator door and rummaged inside with the intensity of someone who was searching for lost diamonds.

Ed cleared his throat, "They wouldn't be in there."

"What? Where?"

"In the fridge, my shorts."

"Right. Sorry. I'm still processing." She closed the fridge and sighed.

"Understood. Same here." Ed walked alongside the kitchen counter until he reached the kitchen sink. "Hey, over here." He pointed into the sink where many dirty dishes and clouded glasses were encrusted but soaking in murky water.

"Eww, I'm so sorry about that." She hooked her finger into a belt loop that was exposed at the surface of the water and pulled out Ed's shorts. The brownish water dripped into the sink and splashed onto the countertop. "I can take care of this. Really."

As she jiggled his shorts, his phone slipped out of the front pocket and made a splatter after it clanked across a plate. "Okay. Maybe not." Jane stood there, holding up Ed's shorts as Ed buried his face into his palm in disbelief.

Jane winced and her nose wrinkled as she reached into the depths of the grease laden, food funk of the sink. She pulled out his phone with her free hand. It was waterlogged and devoid of any functionality. "Warranty?" she asked.

"Nope. I've had it for a few years now." Ed slowly brushed his fingers through his hair, contemplating the fallout from the entire series of events. He pulled up a chair at the kitchen table and sat with his head down. "Now what?"

"I know it looks bad, but it can't get any worse."

At that moment there was a series of short but rapid knocks at the door.

Ed raised his head and broke from his inner thoughts. He looked at Jane, "TacoRocko?"

"Oh crap." Jane had just finished wringing out the remaining water from Ed's shorts. "I should probably get that."

"You sure about that?" Ed pointed to himself, and Jane zoned out, flowcharting the possibilities in her head.

Another series of knocks.

"Yeah, I should." Jane cleared a place mat on the dining table that was covered with condiments from local fast-food places and set his shorts atop it. She wiped her smelly wet hands on the back of her sweatpants, leaving handprints on her rear end. When she reached the front door, she placed her foot a few inches behind the threshold, propping the door from opening more than an inch.

There was a bit of hushed negotiation back and forth with her pre-scheduled anonymous lover. He handed Jane the bag of food that Ed had previously left at the door. She quickly closed the door and returned to Ed with the delivery meant for another person.

"How'd it go?" he asked, while patting down his phone with a nearby kitchen towel.

She shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes. "Lasagna?"

"You know that's someone else's, right?" He held up his dead phone and shook a few more droplets of dirty water out of it. "Eh, I’ve probably already gotten dinged on that order, anyway. Sure, I could use a bite after all this."

"I've got a washer and dryer combo in the next room. I can take care of your shorts. You want to heat this up? Microwave is over there." Jane handed him the bag and retrieved his shorts from the place mat.

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"I guess not." She disappeared into the adjacent room with his formerly dry shorts in hand and a promise to be right back.

Ed navigated the options on the microwave panel and left the lasagna to rotate on the glass tray as he examined his surroundings. The refrigerator door, covered with a collection of magnetic decor with phrases of affirmation and positive sayings, was framing a few wallet sized photos of Jane, alone, posing in casual clothing at various locales that Ed didn't recognize.

Jane returned and closed the door behind her, muffling the sound of the washing machine as it teetered and creaked while filling with water. "It should only be an hour, I'm guessing."

The microwave beeped. "Right on time." Ed opened the microwave door and steam, followed by the aromatic scent of pasta with Italian seasonings, replaced the sour funk of the kitchen sink that had permeated throughout the area.

Jane cleared as much of the table as she could without spilling the excess clutter onto the floor. She directed Ed to a cabinet that held plates and a drawer that had utensils. The two sat at opposing ends of the squared surface and took their first few bites in silence.

"So..." Ed broke the quiet vibe as his mouth was still processing the bites into smaller digestible ones. "About earlier, that was something, right?"

Jane looked up from her plate, wiped the gooey cheese from the corner of her mouth. "Yeah, it was something."

"Something good?" His eyebrows raised as he twirled his fork in the air.

"Oh, it was something very good. What about you." 

"Well, considering I was only supposed to be delivering food, it was a great - something." They both gave each other a crooked smile. Each one took another bite, chewed, and swallowed with a glow about them that only they could see.

Ed set his fork down, interlocked his fingers, and rested his chin atop them. "You never got a chance to tell your long story."

"Oh?" Jane swallowed the small mouthful of the saucy pasta. "I was told to live a little. To get out of my shell and do something spontaneous."

"And this is what you chose to do?"

"Look, this not something I do at all, it's outside my dull and uneventful norm, and it was a first."

"I see. Will it also be your last?"

"Well, all things considered..." Jane hedged and shifted food around her plate. Her eyes went off to the corner of her kitchen in contemplation.

"What did you think of Mr. TacoRocko? Or were they a Miss TacoRocko?"

"I don't know, he seemed a bit much, and he had a bulbous nose."

"A bulbous nose?"

"Yeah, like someone just threw putty onto his face and put to nostrils in there."

"The nose is a deal breaker?"

"Well, no, but... Yeah, I guess it is. I mean, it's a lot more surface area than a pointy one like yours." Jane motioned to Ed's narrow bridged nose.

"You mean this bird beak?"

"It has its advantages."

"Like?" Ed leaned in; his eyes crossed as he looked down at his own nose in curious amusement.

"Well, like when you went down there."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"That did it for you?"

"It very much played a part."

"You're a woman who knows her noses,"

"Yes, I do," Jane smirked, taking another bite.

The two conversed throughout the washing and drying cycle of Ed's shorts. Once the article of clothing was dry, Ed had to take his leave. The two lingered at the threshold of the doorway.

"You don't suppose there's a tip involved? You know, for the food at least?

"I'm really sorry about everything. Well, about everything before and after... You know..."

"Yeah, well, I'd give you my number, but there’s no telling when this thing gets replaced." Ed taps his phone through his front pocket and frowns.

"We'll always have lasagna." Jane Sanderson slowly closed the door, pausing before it latched completely.