"Of course, we did," I answered. "We left when they took you out on the stretcher." I played with his fingers on the sheet, and his lips turned up a little. "How's your head? You were out for a long time."
He rubbed it gingerly. "Well, I got a good whack, that's for sure." He frowned. "They're doing an MRI to see if I have a concussion. But the really bad thing is, babe... if this leg is broken, which I'm pretty sure it is, I may have to go home to Calgary to recoup. The league won't put me up in a hotel when I'm not working, and I can't afford to pay for a hotel myself for that long, so..." He looked at our hands and linked his fingers through mine, his voice turning softer. "I may not be able to see you for a while."
"Bull. You'll come home with me."
"What?" He stopped a second to consider this, then shook his head. "No. I can't do that to you."
"You're not doing it to me, I'm doing it to me. And it will be a good thing."
He paused again, and I could tell it tempted him. "No, Sam. I'll drive you crazy. You're so independent. And I'd probably be a horrible patient. You'd end up hating me."
"I don't think you're giving me enough credit," I insisted stubbornly.
"Hey guys," Ryan said to his siblings. "How about I buy you a candy bar? Come on." He lifted his head and caught my eye. I smiled at him gratefully. Maybe he wasn't such a bad kid.
"Kyle, please. I want you to come stay with us."
"Sam, I'm not sure that's such a great idea."
"Ugh! Why are you being so pig-headed? I don't want you to leave."
"Why? Are you afraid our relationship couldn't take the separation?" he challenged.
"Are you afraid it couldn't take us being together?" I countered.
We were both quiet. I glanced down and, without thinking, moved his pants back. They had been cut so the paramedics could assess the injury. Deep black and blue bruising colored his obviously swollen leg. I let out a little sympathetic, "oh!" and looked up into his eyes. I moved my hand to the side of his face. "Let me take care of you. Please."
He hesitated briefly, then his face relaxed. "Okay. Have it your way then, Sam."
I kissed him, softly, being careful not to shake the bed one iota. "Thank you."
Tucker
Once beyond the doors of the Pullman, I hugged her to my side and exhaled, looking at her seriously. "We've got quite a hike to our next destination."
"Oh. Well, that's okay. It's a nice day for a walk."
I stopped and put my hand on the brick wall before stepping out on the sidewalk. I went through a series of stretches while Dani looked on with an amused smile.
"Just how far is this place?"
"It's a distance. You wanna stretch?"
"No." She tilted her head as she studied me, her beautiful lips twitching. "I'll take my chances."
I continued to stretch, making increasingly elaborate movements. She slid her gaze to the diner window. I'm sure I drew some attention, but I didn't care. I took in a deep breath and let it out.
She put her hands on her hips. "Are you ready?"
"Yep. I think I'm good."
We stepped out on the sidewalk and I turned back, opening the door of the adjacent building. "Shoo." I pretended to mop sweat from my brow. "We're here."
She elbowed me in the ribs, laughing. "You big dork."
"Good thing I told you to wear those comfortable shoes, huh?"
"Oh, yes. My hero." She stepped into my arms and tilted her head up for a kiss, which I obliged her with. When she moved away she began to check out her surroundings. She turned around, holding her hands out to her sides. "A book store? Was that our 'literary walk?'"
"No. But this is where it begins." I strode past her, and it didn't take me long to find what I looked for, a guide for our walk. While she looked for souvenirs for her friends, I read from the brochure and asked a few questions to get my bearings. After her purchases were made, we exited the store.
"Okay. So each of our stops features an author with ties to Iowa in some way. Apparently they have a good writing program at the University of Iowa."
She nodded. "Yes. I've heard of it. Some great writers came out of their workshop."
We headed out in search of the markers. Bronze plaques were embedded in the sidewalk, often in shapes that reflected the quote.
"'All of us felt it. We must have. For in front of their gate, before we drove away still wearing their burnooses, we fell into a four-ply, laughing hug, we were so glad to know one another, and so glad that all the trillion chances in the universe had brought us to the same town and the same university at the same time.' -Wallace Stegner, Crossing to Safety," Dani read. An image of two couples embracing surrounded the quote. "It reminds me of Max, Alex, Sam, and me."
I nodded. Not a literary guy myself, I could still appreciate the idea the author expressed—how chance meetings can change your life. Like when I caught Dani on those stairs at the concert.
We continued on, taking turns reading the plaques out loud. After visiting a number of the spots on the tour, I began to worry that she might be bored. "Are you enjoying this? Because it's okay if you don't. We can find something else to do." Although, I have no idea what that would be. Sweat rose on my palms.
"Oh, no. This is awesome." She looked sincere. "Unless you're bored. Which I would understand. I mean you were up all night wrestling with words. You probably are exhausted. We can—"
"No. Actually, I'm enjoying this a lot more than I thought I would." I grinned and glanced ahead. "Look at this one."
The next contained a diagram with feet. We approached it and I read. "Why don't you kids dance? he decided to say, and then he said it. 'Why don't you dance?' 'I don't think so,' the boy said. 'Go ahead,' the man said. 'It's my yard. You can dance if you want to.'"
She studied it. "Oh. You follow the footprints and they show you how to dance."
"So, how 'bout it." I held out my hand. "Would you dance with me?"
A smile spread across her face. "I'd love to."
She stepped into my arms. People stopped and stared, but I'm sure we weren't the first couple to do this. I attempted to follow the footsteps, but had to laugh. "I'm not a very good dancer."
"Au contraire, my friend." She ran a hand over my ass. "You forget. I witnessed you shaking your moneymaker in Denver. You're a great dancer." She gazed into my eyes, biting her lower lip. Heat rose in my cheeks, and elsewhere.
I ducked my head, then raised it to look at her. The sun poured over her shoulder so I had to squint. "Why, thank you."
She slid her arms around my neck. Mine encircled her waist. "I never had anyone plan a whole weekend for me before. It is incredibly sweet." She kissed me. "It means a lot."
"It was no big deal. In fact, I enjoyed the planning. But tonight is your choice. I have several restaurants to choose from, but, to be honest, I don't think any of them will match the meals we've had so far."
She tilted her head. "Why don't we go back to those shops, get some cheese and crackers, some wine... maybe a couple of apples, if we can find them... and eat at home. At the inn. We don't have that much time left together, and I just want to be alone with you."
"I can't imagine anything more perfect."
We finished the literary walk, stopping at a bench at one point to wolf down the Bananas Foster Bread Pudding, which was out of this world. We returned to the shopping district, still within blocks, and purchased our dinner items, then headed to the Burford House at around five. We discussed our favorite quotes from the walk on the trip to the inn.
I ran through our afternoon in my mind. "I really liked the one from Field of Dreams."
"Oh, yeah. The 'if you build it they will come' thing. I never knew it was based on a book. Or that they changed the title."
"Shoeless Joe," I reflected. "I bet there's more emphasis in the book on him, rather than the Kevin Costner character. I'd like to read that."
"Do you do a lot of reading for pleasure?"
"No. I don't have a lot of tim
e for it. But after this weekend... I think I need to do more of it. I forgot how much I enjoyed that."
We walked on a bit, swinging our joined hands between us.
"Which was your favorite?"
She scrunched up her face. "I don't know. It's hard to say. I liked all of them. Let me look at the book again."
I handed her the brochure for the walk, and she paged through it.
"Of the pictures, I think I liked... oh, the one with the snow globe. I love snow globes. They are sort of magical, aren't they?"
Snow globes, hmm? I filed that away for later.
She didn't wait for an answer "But the quote I liked the most was the one about the Midwest. You remember that one? It was pretty simple."
I nodded. It was a series of circles with the words reading out from the middle.
"I like the imagery."
"You're a very visual person."
"I am. And I'm a Midwestern gal, so..."
I started singing the Beach Boys to her, the part about Midwest farmer's daughters.
She stopped and stepped in front of me, reaching to pull me in for an impetuous kiss. Especially this Midwest farmer's daughter. She drifted away and began walking again, sliding her arm around my waist.
"It's funny you should sing that, because you have always reminded me of a surfer boy. Even from that first moment on the stairs."
"Me? No. I'm more the Midwest farmer's daughter."
She shook her head. "Not hardly." Her gaze roamed over me and she gave me a sexy smile.
I gave her hand a squeeze, but as we continued on, I thought about that smile, and the things it did to me. I peered at our path ahead as I struggled to frame my next thought. "You know, it's interesting for me to try to see myself the way you seem to see me."
"What do you mean?"
How to put this tactfully without seeming full of myself. Or presumptuous... "You say things that indicate you find me to be... a somewhat attractive guy... or am I putting words into your mouth?"
Her eyes grew wide, and I thought maybe I'd made a mistake, assumed too much. "Uhh... no." She laughed. "I find you an extremely attractive guy."
I looked away again, wondering why I even opened my mouth. "That is... interesting to me. I mean, I don't think I'm fugly, but... I don't know... I've always seen myself as sort of Joe Average. And it's easy to see I'm way out of my league with you."
"Why do you say that?" She looked down, kicking a rock out of our path. "Surely your wife told you how attractive you were?"
"Gina?" I shrugged. "She seemed pretty in to me that first night, for sure. But... on a very superficial level. Everything was superficial with her. It even sounds weird when you say, 'your wife.' We tried hard, for the kids' sakes—or at least I did. I could never be too sure of what Gina thought. It wasn't what I thought a marriage should be like."
"What do you think a marriage should be like?" She began to backpedal. "Not that it is appropriate for me to be asking you that on our first date..."
I grinned. "See. Even you admit this is our first date." She nodded her acceptance of the fact. "No. I have no problem talking about it. A marriage should be... like you and Darren had," I admitted. "A couple should be best friends." I haven't really taken much time to develop friendships. Female or otherwise. I need to change that. Chase Hatton, the rock star I occasionally worked for, was the closest thing I had to a friend, and it wasn't like we were hanging out all the time. I thought about it some more. "They should enjoy each other's company, and, at the same time, be totally hot for each other." I glanced at her. Check and check. "They should communicate honestly with each other, share themselves. And there should be a connection beyond all that." She nodded several times as I talked. We arrived at the inn, and I held the door for her.
"Sounds like you've put some thought into this." She climbed the stairs in front of me.
"Not really. Not until you asked." I haven't thought about much but raising my kids and work. Funny how she makes me take a look at myself and want to make changes. I hadn't thought about reading for pleasure since... before college. Nor noticed my lack of friendships. What am I showing my kids? As a single parent, I'd been living in the moment, content to have survived at the end of the day. Not putting much thought into self-improvement. Time marched on by unnoticed.
"What are you thinking about? Gina?"
Her question shook me out of my thoughts. We were in the suite. "No. Not Gina. Myself, really. And how I've been letting life pass me by while I've been working and raising my kids."
"It's easy to do as a single parent."
I sat on the couch, pulling her with me. "But, I keep putting things off 'until the kids get bigger.' Well, guess what? The kids are bigger. It's time for me to assess my life and make some decisions about where I want things to go from here on out. You know what I mean?"
"You've been in survival mode." She swung her legs up and leaned into me.
"Exactly. And now it's time to do something more than simply survive."
"I've probably been living the same way for the past five years."
"Yeah. But that's five years. And your world fell apart. You had to rebuild everything. I've thrown away fifteen years."
She sat forward. "Not thrown away. You've been raising your kids."
"Yes. But what am I showing my kids about living life when I'm not even doing it myself?"
She turned and lay in my arms again. We both mulled things over silently. I lifted my feet to put them on the coffee table, but I noticed the bag with our food I set there earlier.
"I guess it should be refrigerated."
"My lunch lady senses are tingling. That food is in the danger zone."
I began to reach for the bag, but stopped and spun my head in her direction. "Danger zone?"
"Yes, sir." She sniffed, adopting a deep, official-sounding voice. "Bacteria can grow between forty and a hundred and forty degrees Fahrenheit. If it is left in this danger zone for more than four hours, well... bad things happen."
I rolled my eyes and stood, retrieving the bag. "Well we can't have that. I'll put it in the fridge, which is hopefully below forty degrees." I looked at her with raised eyebrows, and she nodded her approval. "The wine, however, is a red and so it does not need to be refrigerated and is, in fact, begging to be opened." Again I glanced in her direction.
"I heard it begging."
"Good." I opened it and poured us both a glass.
On the way back to her I spotted a DVD on a shelf. I handed her the glass of wine, and went to check it out. "Ahh. What About Bob? That's one of my favorite movies. If they left us only one movie, this is a good one to leave." I brought it with me to examine the box.
"Oh. I love that movie. Let's watch it."
"Awesome." She had retrieved a blanket from the top of the couch and spread it out, so I started the movie and we snuggled, laughing at parts until Dani cried. She knew everything coming up, but it still tickled her.
"Bill Murray is so funny as a neurotic patient. I love the part where he's trying to convince himself to get on the bus—"
"With his fish in a baggie around his neck."
"And he keeps talking about baby steps." Her face glowed.
I chuckled. "And the part where he and Siggy are acting like they have Tourette's so they won't have it."
"Or when Richard Dreyfuss says, 'Gone. Bob's never gone,' and he opens the door and Bob's there and he says, 'See.' Richard Dreyfuss is perfect for the part."
I played with her hair. "You're perfect. I never dreamed I'd find a woman who could appreciate What About Bob? as much as I do."
She switched positions, climbing into my lap to straddle me. I held my breath.
"I have other good qualities as well." Her eyes sparkled as she leaned close.
I smiled. "You do?" She brushed her lips over mine. "Prove it." My hands moved to her hips.
"I will." She bounced away. "After we eat. I'm starved." She stood and began to walk toward the refrigerator.
I launched a pillow and caught her square in the ass. She put both hands on her 'injured' rear and twisted to look over her shoulder. "Hey!" She did this little sexy, playful pout thing and I wanted to hit pause and freeze everything right there.
It rushed through me. A feeling so strong it gripped me to the core. Desire. Want. Need. This overwhelming longing to love her. I wanted her to stay, like Bob did, forever. Then, as she turned and continued to sashay away from me, my mind hit rewind, picturing every smile we'd shared over the weekend. When I first laid eyes on her on the porch and she catapulted herself into my arms. Her clutching the chocolate mousse at the Iowa River Power Restaurant, drawing it away from me to deny me a bite. Laughing with her in the front seat of my Jeep Cherokee after our harrowing escape from the dogs, the parking lot lights making her eyes dance with both humor and concern. Our lunch at the Pullman, joking about the menu...
She awakened something in me. And like stirring a sleeping giant, its strength was magnified to an almost unbearable measure. She had reached the bar and was pulling stuff out of the fridge and saying something, but it couldn't reach me because I just realized our time together was coming to an end. In hours she'd be hopping in her vehicle and driving away from me. The few weeks until we met in the Dells were going to kill me. It would seem like an eternity.
"Hello? Tucker? More wine?"
I focused. She held the bottle of wine suspended over a glass. My glass. I found my voice. "Sure. Yeah."
She frowned while she poured, then as she brought it to me, she asked, "You okay?"
I shifted to sit straighter and take the glass. "Fine. Do you need help with the food?"
"No." She balanced on the arm of the sofa and studied me, her forehead still creased. "I've got it all ready." She said it like a question, an unsaid, Didn't you see me do it? hung in the air.
"Ahh... great. I'll bring it over." I crossed to retrieve it and avoid her stare. She had laid everything out on the small cutting board we purchased earlier. When I returned, she had moved to the couch cushion, her legs to one side, knees curled. I sat with the food between us.
Damned If I Do Page 8
