Winnie flipped another page.
Claudia sighed and crossed the small room to sit next to her lifelong friend, but Winnie disregarded her, intent on a glossy photo of a woman wearing a yellow rain slicker.
Claudia took the magazine and put it to one side. “I hate it when we fight.”
Winnie shrugged.
“I’m sorry I said you were square and dispassionate.”
Winnie glanced up and offered a flash of a grin. “It’s okay, I guess, I just miss you. I worry about you.” To be honest, since her walk with Roy she’d been very concerned about Claudia. She supposed some sort of rebellion was natural at this age, but Claudia was taking it to the extreme in her opinion anyway. But her opinion didn’t seem to matter much, because it appeared that half the student body was in a party frame of mind.
Claudia grasped Winnie’s hand in hers, her eyes bright with pleading. “Come with me tonight. You’ll have a blast, I promise.”
Winnie shook her head.
“Maybe if you came and met some of my new friends, you wouldn’t think we’re such bad people.”
“I don’t think you’re bad people,” Winnie objected.
Claudia tilted her head to one side, regarding her friend. “No, we’ve never really had a beef. You’re not judgy, I’ll give you that.”
“Besides, I have a date.” Winnie added.
Claudia jumped from the bed and threw her hands in the air. “You do? With who? You’ve been holding out on me!”
Winnie was almost sorry she’d said anything. She was excited about the prospect of getting involved with Thomas, but the whole thing still felt… special. Like a secret to be savored.
Claudia stared at her for a long moment, then climbed back on the end of the bed, crossed her legs, and settled into a nest. “Okay, tell me everything.”
Even though Winnie had considered telling her friend about the coffee house and how Thomas made her feel, now that the time had come, she wasn’t sure Claudia would understand.
“Come on…” Claudia urged, “Spill it.”
“I may be falling for someone,” Winnie said, casting a sideways glance at Claudia to see her reaction.
“Oh, Wynona,” Claudia groaned, and rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to fall in love to have sex, you know,” she explained condescendingly.
“Never mind,” Winnie said, reaching for the magazine.
“No, no, I’m sorry,” Claudia lamented, “That wasn’t cool of me. Tell me more…”
But Winnie’s attention was firmly on the book in her hand.
Claudia sighed. “Please? I really want to know.”
Winnie glanced up, now more shy than angry or hurt. “It’s nothing yet, really.”
“Who is it?” Claudia demanded. “Do I know him?”
“I doubt it.”
“Well, tell me, for heaven’s sakes!”
Winnie cleared her throat. “He’s an assistant professor.”
Claudia eyes widened and she jumped back off the bed. “Look at you, being all cool and going for the professor!”
Winnie waved her off. “It’s not like that. He’s a graduate student.”
“What’s his name?”
“Thomas. Thomas Kinkade.”
Claudia’s brow furrowed. “The hot philosophy guy?”
“You know him?”
“Are you serious?” Claudia exclaimed, motioning with her hands. “Everybody knows him! He’s one of the most active anti-war professors on campus. Plus, he’s sexy as hell. He’s not, you know, all show and no go.”
Winnie hadn’t heard that term, but she got the drift. “Assistant professor, and yes, we’ve talked about that.”
Claudia laughed. “You’ve talked about him being sexy?”
Winnie pulled a face.
Claudia paced to the other side of the room. “This is so groovy.” She turned back to face Winnie, bright with excitement. “So, you’ve talked? What else have you done with the sexy, Mister Kinkade?” She waited, then sighed in frustration, and ran her fingers through her hair. “Come on, did he cop a feel? Did you do the nasty? I can’t believe this! My sweet little Wynona, involved with the most scandalous man on campus!”
Winnie stiffened, knowing that Claudia’s reference to her being sweet was not a compliment. “He’s not scandalous.”
Claudia scoffed. “Well, he’s certainly not your average egghead.”
“And you think I’m an egghead?”
“I didn’t say that,” Claudia countered, “I’m just surprised, that’s all. You’ve never been anti-establishment.”
“Well, if you’d taken any time to talk to me lately, you’d know that I’ve changed since we came here too.” Winnie defended. “I happen to have a lot in common with Thomas.”
Claudia returned to sit on the bed, her interest peaked. “Have you been to any of the anti-war protests?”
Winnie shook her head.
“Why not?”
Thoughts of her conversation with Roy returned. “I— I don’t know.”
“Well, how many times have you hooked up with Thomas? Have you slept with him?”
Winnie’s mouth fell open. “Claudia!”
“What? Don’t tell you haven’t thought about it.”
A blush crept up Winnie’s neck.
“Ha! I knew it!”
“Stop it,” Winnie said, getting up to pace to the other side of the small room.
Claudia stared at her friend, considering the thought of Winnie in a tangle with a hot professor. “What do you two talk about anyway?”
Winnie scowled. “We have plenty to talk about.”
Claudia grinned impishly. “Has he at least kissed you?”
Winnie blushed again. “We met for coffee again today, and he kissed me goodbye.”
“And?” Claudia questioned.
“It was nice.” Winnie admitted, feeling a tickle in her abdomen at the thought.
“Nice,” Claudia snorted, mocking Winnie. “You really are a drag. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re not coming to the party. If a kiss makes you blush, you’d probably be shocked at the goings on.” Her face changed as she considered the night ahead. “It’s too far out.”
Claudia’s admission gave Winnie pause, and she grew serious. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing? We don’t have a lot of experience with drugs and stuff. You could get into trouble.”
“Oh, don’t you flip out on me too. You sound like Roy.” Claudia huffed. “All he does is hassle me. Don’t you give me any credit?”
“Did you even go to class today?” Winnie countered.
Tiring of the conversation, Claudia rose and strode past Winnie to snatch a dress up off the bed. “That’s none of your concern, is it?”
Winnie watched her friend hold up the dress and check her reflection in the mirror. “You know I just want you to be safe and happy, right?” She offered as a truce.
The dress lowered and Claudia turned back to Winnie. “Yes, I know. And I hope you have fun with Mister sexy tonight. Whatever it is you do for fun.”
* * *
An hour later, Winnie sat with Thomas at the sandwich shop, chatting across the table over burgers and fries. “…And I heard that Thurgood Marshall has been nominated for the supreme court. Imagine that, a black man being appointed as a supreme court justice. It’s about time, if you ask me.”
“Long overdue,” Thomas agreed, dipping a fry in ketchup. “So, Wynona, what kind of music do you like?”
She shrugged. “The usual, I guess.”
He laughed and dipped another fry. “Come on, are you into The Supremes or the Doors?”
“The Doors?”
“Yeah,” he said. “You know, Come on baby, light my fire…” he sang.
“Oh right, they’re good.” She blushed.
“What about television shows? What do you like to watch? Are you into the sweet old-school stuff or the new, out-there stuff?”
She shrugged. “I like The Beverly Hillbillies and I d
ream of Jeanie.”
“Oh…” he held his chest, acted as if he’d been shot. “No Mod Squad, or Star Trek?”
“Star what?” She asked, feeling silly and out of it.
Picking up on the fact that he’d alienated her, Thomas reiterated. “No, I just wondered if you ever watched the stuff that our parents would hate. Mod Squad is about hippie cops, counterculture stuff. Star Trek is science fiction, about a spaceship in the future, but it’s also about… well, it’s about society really.”
“Society on a spaceship?”
“Yeah,” he said, his eyes bright with excitement. “It’s got a real stoicism vibe to it.”
Her food now forgotten completely, Winnie wanted to know more. “What’s stoicism?”
“It’s a philosophy that started with the Greeks,” he explained. “It’s kind of based on the fact that life is hard, life is suffering, and you can be a victim or a winner.”
“That sounds harsh, besides, what does that have to do with space? Travel to other planets is based on math and science.” She contended.
Flustered and passionate, he ran his hands through the wavy mass of hair that fell across his forehead, sweeping it back. “The show is in the future so it’s different, and yes, a solid understanding in math and science is important, that’s a given. But it gets into deeper topics, like personal development, citizenship, and the value of knowledge.”
She thought for a minute. “I did get a weird feeling when I saw that recent photograph of earth, you know, the one that the astronauts took -- the first one that shows earth as a full sphere. It made me feel different about the world, like we’re so… small. So alone in the universe. It was an emotional thing.”
“Exactly!” He exclaimed, falling back into the booth seat. “You do get it!”
She frowned. “I wish everything were so easy to explain. Sometimes I feel like I’m caught in a trap.”
He sat back up. “What’s going on? Want to talk about it?”
She shrugged, wishing she hadn’t brought it up. “It’s nothing.”
“Is it your classes?”
She sighed and put down the fry in her hand. “No, it’s my friends from home.”
He waited for her to continue.
“My roommate, Claudia, she’s been my best friend forever, and she’s gotten… well, let’s just say she’s enjoying her freedom.”
He winced. “And her grades are plummeting.”
“Right.” Winnie confirmed. “Then there’s her brother, Roy, the other side of the coin. He’s the exact opposite.”
Thomas’s brow furrowed. “He’s a great student?”
She shrugged, afraid to bring up Roy’s opinions to Thomas. “Well, yeah, but…”
“What? What do you think you can’t tell me?” Thomas asked.
“No, he’s a great guy, a good brother. He’s ROTC—” She hesitated, watching for Thomas to frown, for him to be disappointed that she had friends who were involved with the war. But that was stupid, Roy wasn’t part of the war, he was just… Roy.
“I see,” Thomas said, his face unreadable. “And you feel like he’s…”
“Stubborn.”
Thomas got the picture. “I wondered if you were upset that he was treated badly or something. Those poor guys take a ton of shit here on campus. Pardon my French,” he added.
“I know he does,” Winnie countered, “and I hate that; he doesn’t deserve that stuff. I guess I just get frustrated because he can’t seem to understand anything that is different from what folks back home think.”
“He’s conservative,” Thomas nodded, waiting for her to continue with her concerns, as if he didn’t get why she was upset.
“You’re liberal, very liberal,” she maintained, “Don’t you hate it when people are so set in their ways, so stubborn? Don’t you think people should consider new ideas and try new things, so we can progress as a society? Like your Star Track show?”
“Star Trek,” He corrected. “And not necessarily. A balanced society needs both conservative and liberal views to be balanced. That’s sociology 101. You’re right that without liberal views, no progress can be made, but if everyone were willing to accept any old idea and put it into action, society would run off the rails.”
Her brows rose. “I guess I never thought of it that way.”
“Did it occur to you that Roy knows he has to go to war, and he holds tight to his beliefs that it’s the right thing to do, so he can cope with that reality?”
Her eyes met his, hers shining with tears, his filled with compassion. “Oh, Wynona, are you afraid for him?”
She nodded, the lump in her throat too big to speak past.
“That’s why I’m so against this damn war,” Thomas continued, motioning with one hand. “Guys like Roy, good, honest, hard-working men are sent off to die for some political reason he doesn’t even know anything about.”
Winnie swallowed hard, wishing again that she’d never brought the whole thing up. It was good to see where Thomas stood on the subject though. He had a point, and it seemed like his ideas were fair to everyone. Then again, she was falling for him more every day, so maybe she wasn’t thinking clearly.
Ready to change the subject and get the date back on track, Thomas dipped another fry and bit off the end, regarding Winnie thoughtfully as he chewed. “So, beautiful, what do you want to do after we eat?”
Winnie shrugged and took a big bite of her now cold burger.
“Want to see my office?” Thomas asked, his expression hopeful.
She stopped chewing as her eyes widened. She swallowed, the bite going down half chewed. “Your office?” she squeaked.
He grinned. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were afraid to be alone with me.”
Was she afraid? Not really, more like… unsure. What did he have in mind? What would he expect if she said yes? What did she hope he wanted?
He grinned. “Look at you, thinking me the cad. No, I don’t expect you to engage in any hanky-panky in my office.”
“Stop doing that,” she said, leaning back into the booth seat.
He watched her over the table, taking in every detail of her discomfort. “Doing what?”
“Reading my mind.”
He chuckled. “I like that what you’re thinking is clearly written across your face. You’re very real, do you know that?”
She blushed, feeling inadequate.
“No, I mean it.” He reached across the table to take her hand. “You’re very honest, completely open. I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”
She stared at the half-eaten burger, her appetite lost.
“Wynona?”
She glanced up.
“Let’s get out of here, want to?”
She agreed.
He tossed a $5 bill on the table, then rose from his seat and circled the table to scoot back her chair. She stood, feeling his nearness as if he emitted heat. He slipped his arm around her waist as they headed for the door, his hand warm on her hip.
The night was dark and cool, and when they reached his car, he turned her to face him. A tender smile lit his face as his gaze searched her expression. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and his finger traced her jaw. “You are so gorgeous.”
Lost in his touch, she couldn’t reply. The man held her entranced. Not only was he handsome as sin, but they seemed to share a connection that was not only exhilarating, but as sweet as it was sensational. Her thoughts raced. Should she go with him to his office? If a simple touch on her cheek had her so aroused, what would happen if they were alone behind closed doors?
“There you go again,” he teased, “thinking I’m going to ravage you.”
“Maybe I’ll ravage you,” she whispered, standing on tip-toe and leaning in for a kiss.
* * *
Tara crossed the den and settled into the chair behind her office desk. With a frown, she scanned the contact list on her phone. She stopped at Blanche and stared down at the number, unsure
how to start a conversation with the woman. What did one say to a newly-widowed lady who may need work? She didn’t want to be rude or offensive. She pushed the call button.
A ringtone sounded twice, then a woman answered, sounding competent.
“Hello, my name is Tara,” she started. “Winnie gave me your number. You’re Marge’s sister?”
“Yes, yes, I am. You must be from Smithville.”
“Right. Well, I hope I’m not calling at a bad time?” Tara asked, almost wishing that she was, so she’d have a good excuse to avoid the whole conversation.
“No, I can talk. Is something wrong with Marge? Did something happen?”
“Oh no, no, nothing like that. I’m sorry, Marge is fine.” At least she hoped Marge was fine, she hadn’t talked to her for a few days. In hindsight she probably should have consulted the old waitress about hiring her sister.
“Well, then Tara, how can I help you?”
Here was the big moment. How should she word it? “Winnie mentioned— that is—” she bit at her bottom lip. “I heard you may be interested in a job. You know, looking for work?”
“A job?” The woman repeated.
“Yes, you see, I have an inn here in Smithville, and I need— No I’d like, well…”
“Are you offering me work at your Inn?” Blanche asked.
“Yes.” There, she’d said it.
“What kind of a job are you offering?”
“Well… I need, I was thinking…”
Blanche waited patiently on the other end of the line.
Tara’s shoulders slumped. “I need help.”
“I see,” Blanche replied. Then both women fell silent, each thinking of their own situation. When Tara didn’t offer more information, Blanche spoke up. “I was thinking about coming to see Marge today; how about I stop in this afternoon, and you can show me around.”
Feeling relief, Tara smiled. “That would be perfect.”
They agreed on a time and Tara gave her the address, then hung up. The woman had been polite, nice even, yet very efficient. She’d been easy to talk to. Maybe this would work out well after all. Feeling much better about the situation, she rose from her desk and decided to head over to the spa. Maybe Blanche could help out there as well, not that Lizzie needed any help. Maybe it would be best to ask Lizzie what she thought.
Hometown Series Box Set Page 127
