by Barbara Ebel
Chris appeared from Dustin’s side of the table and put down their entrees. “Be careful, the plates are hot. Is there anything else I can get either of you?”
Annabel and Dustin shook their heads. “Bon appetit,” he said.
After sampling her meal, Annabel rolled her eyes. “I’m glad I didn’t order grits at breakfast. I ordered pancakes and eggs. These can’t be topped.”
“Where’d you go?”
“Just up the block. Bob and I ate there since he brought over Oliver.”
Dustin let the tremor of jealousy pass. It would be stupid to react that way, he thought. Jealousy was a trait he saw in many men he booked for domestic abuse. They were the controlling types, domineering and possessive of their girlfriends or wives. He was levelheaded, and as far as he knew, she and Bob were tight friends with their mutual studies in common and a source of support for each other. He would need to totally accept Bob as a part of Annabel’s life.
“That was nice of him to bring Oliver over. You two are apparently off to a fine start sharing him.”
“Yes, I think so and I hope so.”
The maître d’ sauntered in for a second and pointed to the bar. A man in his early to mid-thirties with an average build thanked him and, walking with a limp, chose a stool not too far across from their table. He checked out his surroundings and his chin had a noticeable scar. Dustin gave the man a fleeting thought … his limp and scar might be the result of something innocent, from police work, or perhaps he did military service in Afghanistan.
The man turned his head purposefully a second time, barely giving Dustin a glance. He leaned to the side. Dustin wasn’t sure, but the man seemed to show a glint of recognition as he studied Annabel from the side. The bartender handed him a menu and, after he ordered, he peered over at her again with his hand partly covering his face.
Despite the jitters that were starting to resurface in Dustin’s stomach, he ate most of his steak.
“I think the two of us brought a healthy appetite,” Annabel said to their waiter as he picked up their plates. “But why we’re really here is for your carrot cake.”
“Then I don’t have to ask you if you’re having dessert,” the young man retorted. “Shall I bring two and will you be drinking coffee?”
“Do you want to split a piece of cake?” she asked Dustin.
“Yes. For such an important date, it would be more memorable to share.”
“All our dates are important.” She looked up. “We’ll share one piece and I’ll take decaf, please.”
“I’ll take the real caffeine.”
The waiter nodded and strolled off.
Dustin wrapped his fingers around the ring case in his pocket. His pulse quickened and he realized he should use the restroom after the beer and water he drank. He would be a lot more comfortable without a full bladder diverting his attention.
The man at the bar finished his beer as well as an appetizer of shrimp cocktail. Another beer was placed in front of him on the fine wooden counter, but he stepped down and gently limped past their table.
Dustin rose. “Give me a moment to run to the restroom. I do have something important to ask you.” He smiled and tilted his head.
“I’ll be here.” She wondered about his question. “But, no, you can’t borrow Oliver to keep Solar company.”
Dustin laughed, turned, and headed to the men’s room. He pushed the door and stepped in. The man from the bar stood at a middle urinal and Dustin stood two over as he unzipped his fly. An air of hesitancy hung over them, as if they both had something to say.
Dustin was curious why the man gave Annabel a double-take, but he spoke up using a different tactic. “I hope your limp isn’t from a war injury.”
The man finished his stream. “It’s my take-home souvenir from Afghanistan. What about you? Serve any time?”
“That was slightly before my time, so I missed it. Thank you for your service. I do, however, try to give back to society because I’m a police officer.”
The man nodded. “I don’t do anything near as important now. I’m a financial consultant in Louisville. Come up the Ohio on my boat every couple of weekends. I know the right places to eat.” He zipped up his fly.
“The boating sounds like fun. Your job doesn’t sound too bad either, especially since you’re a bit disabled.”
“Yeah, the boat is a blessing. Did you meet your date on the Findar app? I’m pretty sure I know her, so I might stop by and say hello.”
Dustin began pulling up his zipper and almost caught his skin. “Really? Are you saying that you met her on the dating app? My date with her isn’t over yet today, but how long ago did you date her?”
Both men went to the sink and the man contemplated. “I don’t know … six, not more than twelve months ago. Yes, we stumbled on each other through the dating site. As a matter of fact, she did come on board my Hannah .. my boat, which I dock on the Kentucky side of the river when I come up here.”
“That must have been fun. You gave her a ride?”
“No,” he said, looking down for a moment. “We ate at the marina and then she stayed on board. We had a great night. She left early in the morning for her graduate work.”
Dustin caught his breath. He wished he had not heard this. No, actually he was glad he did. He was aware when he started dating her that she’d been up to a little risky behavior, but maybe it was more than he ever figured. This was the woman he was about to propose to. He took a big gulp.
The man sensed Dustin’s discomfort. “If you’re really going to date her, don’t get me wrong. She seems smart and like a good person. I can’t blame her too much for finding men on the social app because I was using it for a while as well … looking for women. My wife died and it kind of filled a void.”
The both men finished washing over the sinks and shook hands. “By the way, I’m Dustin.”
“And I’m Jerry.”
“If you don’t mind,” Dustin said, “I’ll head out first. Feel free to say hello to her, but I’m staying out of it. I have a lot to think about.”
“Good luck, buddy, and be careful with your police work.”
-----
Dustin felt absolutely awful. As nervous and as elated he had been over asking Annabel to marry him, he was now despondent and unsure. Each footstep back to their dinner table lingered like an eternity as he tried to grasp her rendezvous one-night stand with Jerry. His own history of sexual encounters was nowhere close to hers. He’d gone to bed in the past with two women he hardly knew, but even then, they had dated once or twice. And he certainly didn’t meet them through swiping left or right on an iPhone.
He dug down into his pocket and put his thumb and index finger around the velvet case with the engagement ring. No. Not today. Not this week. Not this month. He couldn’t ask her. He needed to think some more about this.
Why the dichotomy? Hell, her studying medicine and helping people; her fine manners and personality; her thoughtfulness and intelligence; they were in glaring contrast to her risky dating behavior.
Yet, this modern app service was spreading like wild fire and he’d read how common it was, including the quick hook-up sexual flings that were understood beforehand by some of the parties. He arrived at their table, so he had to dismiss his introspection of the situation. His mind was made up … there would be no marriage proposal today. He shoved the box as deep as he could into the recess of his hip pocket.
Annabel looked up at him with a grin and held a fork in her hand. “I couldn’t wait, but I only took one bite.”
He joined her and she handed him a utensil. He had no appetite now for the carrot cake, but took a bite. “It is as moist and scrumptious as before. You may eat most of it in lieu of my being such a gentleman.”
“You are, Dustin. You have many fine qualities and that’s one of them.” Her eyes took a double take beyond Dustin and Jerry paused beside them.
“I thought I recognized you,” Jerry said. “Annabel, correct?�
�
“Yes,” she stumbled, her pulse quickening. “Jerry, right?”
“Yes.”
“You gave me your financial consulting business card. I kept it.”
“Here.” He dug for his wallet in his back pocket. “This is for your friend too. Even if either of you don’t need financial planning now, some day you might.” He handed Dustin his card. “Nice seeing you again, Annabel.”
“You too.”
“Thanks,” Dustin said.
Jerry went back to his bar stool and Annabel stuck her fork into the icing. It’s a small world, she thought. Too small. She watched Dustin. She needed to shake off the close encounter; one which Dustin wouldn’t appreciate knowing about and one which she had mixed reservations about. Her time with Jerry was enjoyable the night they met. They ended up sharing personal stories and physical intimacy.
“Jerry lost his wife,” she said. “and I think he’s still getting over her. He told me when he gave me his business card that he named his boat after her … Hannah.”
“That must be a special boat.”
“I think so.” She savored another piece and she wondered why he was looking at her so intently. “You mentioned you wanted to ask me something important.”
Dustin shook a packet of sugar in his coffee. “It was nothing that can’t wait or maybe my idea should be tabled indefinitely.”
CHAPTER 31
“Oliver,” Annabel said, “you are amazing. To think you spent the afternoon with a chatty bird in another new place and were good as gold. After all, you’re still a big puppy, and young dogs are known to be unpredictable at times.”
Annabel sat on her desk chair after getting home from Dustin’s and looked Oliver square in the eyes. The dog stared back at her and then stretched out, ready to settle after the busy day. She went and poured a glass of water from the kitchen sink. Totally full from the wonderful meal, that was all she brought back to her desk.
Dustin’s company and the early dinner had been stellar, but she could have done without bumping into Jerry, her previous date with his own boat. He was a fine man, but most women know it’s not wise to mix new boyfriends with old ones. Well, she thought, Jerry didn’t qualify as a previous boyfriend. He had been a one-night stand. However, he would certainly make a fine partner for someone after the grieving for his deceased wife was behind him.
Thank goodness, she thought, that the short interlude with Jerry at their table had not delved into a more in-depth conversation. She liked Dustin very much and wanted in no way to jeopardize their relationship. After all, she wouldn’t be happy if she found out that he had a history of a flurry of one-night interludes in the not-too-distant past.
She showered and put on pajamas and went back to her computer, all the while trying to wipe relationship thoughts out of her head. She opened the desktop; she needed to go through her lecture one more quick and final time.
Satisfied that she knew the presentation as well as she could, she closed down, and bused her glass back to the sink. Now, as importantly, she needed to get a full and perfect night’s sleep. It was 9 p.m., so she was on track. She set her alarm for 5:30 a.m., allowing a half hour to walk and feed Oliver, and an hour to dress, drink coffee, and leave.
Oliver followed her over and settled next to the bed. Before getting in, she kneeled down and ruffled his hair. “Good night, buddy.” She gave him a kiss and then scrambled under her covers. Within a half hour, she was fast asleep.
-----
Startled right out of her sleep, Annabel woke and tried to figure out what the hell was going on. Oliver walked on top of her, prancing on top of her abdomen from one side of the bed to the other. She extended her arms, barricading him from coming up any closer, and then sat up.
“Oliver, bad dog! Get down.” She tried to push him off, but he insisted on staying put and carried on prancing all over her sheets, trying to sidle as close as possible to her. He panted like crazy.
She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was only ten o’clock. She swung her legs off the side of the bed. Oliver jumped down. He lowered his head and squeezed past her rolling chair and into the space below the desk. He cowered against the wall but, not satisfied, he slinked back out. Pacing back and forth, he stopped momentarily and clung to her legs.
“Oliver, what’s going on with you?”
She turned on her room light, stepped into the bathroom, and sat on the toilet. Oliver tagged along. When she stood and washed her hands, the dog tried to jam himself behind the commode. Now she wondered if she had a mentally disturbed dog on her hands. She said, “What on earth is wrong?”
Back in her big room with Oliver at her heels, she went to the front window and peeked out. Through the heavy clouds, which had built up during the evening, she detected a flash of light … lightning somewhere off in the distance. By the time she tried to settle back in bed, she heard a low rumble of thunder.
“Oh no,” she said aloud as Oliver pawed at her closet door. She padded over and opened the accordion door. He hurried in, wanting to bury himself in the back confines of the space behind a pile of shoe boxes. Which lasted a half minute. He weaved himself back out and circled her.
She would have never counted on this in a hundred years. It appeared that she and Bob had a dog who was deathly afraid of thunderstorms; their otherwise well-behaved Oliver was revealing his phobia to her. She’d known about such dogs, but her family never owned one with this problem. If the storm continued, she thought, his behavior would escalate. The thunder and lightning was headed in their direction.
Annabel slumped on the floor, her back to her bed, and coaxed Oliver over. Wrapping her arms around him, she whispered in his ear, “It’s okay, boy. The storm won’t hurt you.”
A significant thunderclap sounded and Oliver broke from her grasp. He panted all the while, his tongue hanging and his chest cycling faster than an athlete’s respiratory rate after a hard run. Annabel shook her head. After eleven o’clock, she slid under her covers again, but Oliver jumped up and wasn’t satisfied unless he was walking over her chest and up to her face.
She pushed him gently but firmly. Midnight was approaching and she was losing valuable sleep. This was an untimely situation, she thought. The presenter of any fine medical lecture needs to be rested and coherent from a long and halfway decent night’s sleep.
The thunderstorm grew more significant, and by 1 a.m., the rain pounded forcefully on the roof above her. Being on the top floor of the house, her place bore the brunt of it. The lightning continued with a light show and the thunder roared with impetuous claps that dwarfed their senses. Her heart wrenched in her chest as she watched her previously calm companion strive to escape and take shelter from the ungodly weather. But there was no escape from Mother Nature and there was no sleep for Annabel.
The hours ticked by and, as the rain tapered off to a trickle and the thunder and lightning ceased, she threw some clothes on and walked Oliver at 5 a.m. When she came back in, she dried his paws and put on a French vanilla Keurig coffee cup. Her bed in the other room was like a magnet trying to snap her over. She placed her elbows on the kitchen counter and dropped her head into her hands.
“What lousy timing,” she mumbled and lowered her hands. Oliver, now subdued, cocked his head at her. He no longer panted or paced. “What? You want to eat and, while I’m gone, you’re going to catch up on your lost sleep?”
She dressed in tan trousers and a plaid blue blouse and tried to camouflage the circles under her eyes with makeup. When she left the apartment, her thinking was so fuzzy, she almost forgot the flash drive on the kitchen counter.
CHAPTER 32
On Monday morning, a few early medical students dotted the OB/GYN department’s auditorium as Annabel made her way down the aisle to the stage. A technical assistant at the podium fiddled with wires from the laptop stationed there and, as she stepped up the stairs, she heard Bob call her name. He approached her from a chair in the front row.
“You m
ade it,” she said. “Did your internal medicine chief resident give you a hard time about peeling away from the ward?”
“I really lucked out. My chief resident for this make-up last week is our old chief, Donn Schott. He said your lecture subject matter is extremely important. He even sent another one of the students on the rotation with me.” He pointed to a student behind him.
She nodded and followed up with a grimace. “This is going to be awful. My head isn’t screwed on this morning to present a lecture. I went to sleep for one hour last night and then that storm blew in. So guess what?”
Bob shook his head.
“Oliver is deathly afraid of thunderstorms. He acted like a cornered jungle cat and didn’t know what to do with himself. No matter what I did, I couldn’t appease him. The poor boy. However, whenever I tried to go back to bed, he was up and down and all over me. And his panting and trying to get away from the weather was crazy. Ha! Now he can de-stress and sleep and I have to give this lecture.”
Her eyes narrowed and her lips trembled. As she stared at the floor, she shook her head. “There’s not enough coffee in the world right now to help me sharpen my brain cells.”
Bob’s expression changed to concern as he reached forward and touched her forearm. “Annabel, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. There were no storms when Oliver was at my place. Had I known, I would have never brought him over to you.”
“What happened is not your fault. Besides, you needed to sleep as well before starting back today.”
“However, giving your first big lecture to the whole department and then having to be on OB/GYN call tonight is a different ball game.”
The technician plugged in a cord on the wall socket and pointed to Annabel. “If you’re the one giving this lecture, we better get ready.”
