’ ‘Oh, Brent,’ replied Dee, ‘you’d be my only man on the weekends. Wouldn’t that be enough?’ ‘Nope. Sorry. It’s all or nothing, babe...’ We walked through the waiting area to my office. There were probably a dozen young women sitting and waiting nervously, looking towards Dee and me and smiling. Once inside my office, Dee closed the door and placed a stack of papers on my desk, bending over much farther than necessary to make sure I got a good look inside her blouse. ‘Alright, Dee. You don’t need. But it wasn't like wanting Martha. Wanting Martha was maddening. Wanting Ronnie was friendly, affectionate.She lifted out a small, dirty, discolored glass jar.I took it from her and removed the top. Motor oil. "Great. You have an eye dropper, or something?" Medicine dropper?" That'll do."She left the kitchen again. I replaced the metal grille over the rear of the fan. I was peering into the slots of the motor housing to see if there were more than one lubrication point, when Ronnie returned. At. More

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