The Starting Line: Friends To Lovers

by Jennifer Hartley

  “Why do you have to be such a little idiot all the time, John?” Marta asks, pushing his arm off Therese. “We were making plans before you showed up, so please, go hit on your next undeserving tramp.”

  Hailey catches a flicker of hurt in his watery grey eyes at her words before he turns purposefully toward Hailey, lifting his chin and giving her a roguish smile. “Do you come here often?”

  “Go,” Therese pushes at him. “Away! Away from here.”

  He flicks them off and walks away into a throng of other people. “What is his problem?” Marta huffs. “He's either trying to get your back up over crazy international affairs, or he's hitting on you.”

  “I think he wants you,” Therese comments sensibly. “That or he feels threatened by your intelligence. Probably both.”

  Hailey shrugs, not caring either way. She and John have participated in some heated debates in the short time since she's arrived. He pushes her buttons in a way that makes her want to cause physical harm to something, preferably him. That's probably not a good thing.

  “Alright ladies, let's make these plans. I need something to get me through the week.”

  October

  “Luke?” Jude sticks his head through the front door. “Luke, are you home?”

  “Get your ass in here, meathead,” orders the Parrot. Jude hates that Parrot and refuses to acknowledge it. He swings by Luke's at least three times a week and has yet to have a kind word from that bastard.

  Jude enters the kitchen where Luke is sitting at the table, a cup of tea and newspaper sitting beside him.

  “I made quiche,” Jude sets the casserole dish on the counter. “Spinach and cheese. I took your advice and added bacon this time.”

  'Thanks,” Luke replies. He pushes out a chair with his foot, “Take a seat. Stay for a while.”

  Jude fixes himself a cup of coffee and slides into the chair opposite Luke. “What's new in the world?”

  “Find out for yourself. You need to read more than just the sports section and the comics.”

  Grumbling, Jude picks up an unread section and scans the headlines. He loses boredom quickly and sets down the paper, leaning on his forearms and staring at that damn bird. Soon Luke rises and gets two plates and forks, bringing the quiche over, and they dig in. Luke is a man of few words unless he's talking about traveling the world or his late wife, to whom he was married for 67 years.

  When they finish breakfast, Luke is recounting the story of when he first realized he was in love with his wife, Lillian. “We were at her family's lake house up north. See, I always used to go around with her older brother. I was always nice to her. She was a sweet girl, but nothing more.”

  “Then what changed your mind?'

  “It wasn't one specific event, really,” Luke replies. “Several little things that added up over time. I remember sitting on the dock one night, the moon was out, and the water was so calm it looked like glass. All of a sudden, I heard footsteps running up the dock. I turned and saw this streak of white go past me and then heard her splash into the water.”

  “Sweet baby Lily was skinny dipping? Of course, you fell in love with her. She was naked!”

  “Hold your tongue, meathead.” Luke scowls. “Anyway. If pressed, I would say that night was probably when I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was the one for me.”

  “Really?' Jude smirks. “One night, huh? Skinny dipping under the stars and the lure of forbidden romance. Yeah, I bet that sure got the mojo going.”

  “No, I didn't... we didn't have relations until we were married,” Luke says quietly. “Which was why we were engaged by the end of the summer.”

  “Oh, you sly dog, you,” Jude grins at Luke, ignoring the damn bird who repeats Jude's words. “How old were you when you two got married?”

  “I was 19, and she was barely 18. We got married a week after her birthday. It was a small ceremony. Her brother had his pistol trained on me the whole time, in case I chickened out.”

  “That's a good brother right there.”

  “He was a great man. He passed away... fifteen years come December.” He scratches the side of his face, white bristles catching. “What about you, Kid? Have you ever been married?”

  “Ah, no. Not yet,” Jude takes a big sip from his coffee.

  “Why not? You're not bad looking. You've got a job, you cook well. You're quite the catch.”

  Jude beams at him. “Quite the catch, huh? Are you asking me out, Luke?”

  'You should be so lucky.” Luke rises from the table and grabs their empty plates, cuffing Jude on the head. “Did you get your heart broken or something?”

  Shaking his head, Jude leans back in his chair. “No more than your average 28-year-old.”

  “Why didn't they work out?”

  Jude sighs, crossing his arms as he considers. “Lots of reasons. Distance, schedules, incompatibility, jealousy, careers.”

  “You know, you should think about settling down soon. Odds are, you've already met the girl you're supposed to be with. It's just a matter of time.”

  “Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of.”

  Jude finishes up and takes his leave a few minutes later, agreeing to come by and grill out in a couple of days. He heads to the house he and Eric are flipping and grabs his tool belt as he climbs out of his truck. The new windows are due to arrive today, but he wants to clear out some of the debris before the contractors get there.

  Eric arrives shortly thereafter, and they get to work cleaning, tossing items into the trash bin outside. When the contractors finally show up, both Eric and him are sweaty and tired. Jude runs out to his truck to retrieve some water. On the return jog, he slips on some gravel; his feet sweep out from under him, and he wallops the back of his head on the cement driveway. Utter blackness.

  “Ju? Hey, Ju. Wake up bro,” Eric is leaning over Jude, slapping his cheeks lightly. He sees two of Eric. Why is the sun so bright? Why can he hear the grass growing? God, his head hurts. “You scared me there for a second. You okay?”

  “What happened?”

  “You slipped on the gravel. Hey, how many fingers am I holding up?”

  “A lot. Many fingers. Seven?”

  Eric frowns, looking at the two he's holding up. “What day is it?”

  “Tuesday? Yeah. Tuesday.” Jude lies back on the ground, the world spinning in a spectacular fashion. “I don't feel so hot.”

  “Yeah, this isn't good. Let's take you to the hospital.”

  “What? No. I'm fine. I'll be fine.”

  “Jude, you remember what happened to my Uncle? Skull fracture. Slow brain bleed. Dead by the end of the week. If we'd have taken him to the hospital sooner, he might still be with us.”

  “Wow, Eric. I just hit my head,” Jude's stomach lurches, and he starts dry heaving. “Okay. Fine. Fine. Let's go. Way to guilt-trip me.”

  By the time he gets seen by the doctor, he's in a foul mood; he's thrown up everything he's eaten in the past year, and his head is killing him.

  “Another Jennings? How many can there be?” a feminine voice says from outside the curtain to his bed.

  Another voice replies, “Plenty. You'll learn soon enough. He's in bed four when you're ready.”

  He's ready to give whoever a piece of his mind, but when the curtain opens, he slams his mouth shut as the woman reviews his chart aloud.

  “Ground level fall, positive loss of consciousness, nausea, vomiting, double vision...” She looks up and stops, flashing a smile. “Hi Mr. Jennings, I'm Doctor Mitchell. It looks like you smacked your head pretty hard.”

  He says words, not sure which ones though. It's not often than he's thrown by attractive women. He grew up with Hailey, for God's sakes. But there's something about this woman... He feels like he's seen her before. She's petite, long dark red hair, and cornflower blue eyes. He seems to be focusing much, much better.

  “... After my exam, we'll see whether or not we need to order a CT scan. It would be safe, just to rule out any hemorrha
ging.”

  “Sure thing,” Jude replies, sitting up slowly. He grabs the side of the bed, holding on. She reaches her hand out, steadying him.

  “Still dizzy, huh? With movement or when you're lying still as well?”

  Jude replies, answering a series of additional questions, praying that he doesn't vomit all over her. He appreciates that she slides the trash bin closer to his bed in anticipation of that very real possibility. Once she's finished her exam, she starts documenting her findings.

  “Where's your accent from? It sounds...”

  “Georgia,” she replies succinctly. She must get this question frequently. “And before you ask, I intend to remain here. Alright, I'm going to get the CT scan ordered. Just lie back down, and I'll see about getting you something for your nausea.”

  Four hours later, as she's signing his discharge papers, discussing what to do with his head injury and what precautions to take, he can only think about one thing.

  “Hey so... since you just signed off on my head and all... Do you, I don't know, maybe want to get coffee or something?”

  Dr. Mitchell doesn't even bat an eye, giving him what must be a standard response to this question. “Look, I bet you're a nice guy, and I'm flattered, but I'm here to focus on my work. Also, with the rate your family has been entering the ER, I have a feeling this would be a bad idea. My nurse will be in shortly with your release forms. Have a good day.”

  He tries to ignore the knowing smirk of the nurse as she gives him his paperwork, effectively sending him on his way.

  Crash and burn.

  “Hailey, are you even going to school? I keep seeing all these pictures on your Instagram of you in every country but England.” Jude teases, propping his arm up on his kitchen table. They're Skyping again, but this time it's late where she is. From her appearance, she looks like she's dressed to go out. “Oktoberfest looked fun. I particularly enjoyed the picture with the beer wench.”

  “Very funny,” she replies, taking a sip from her mug. “The way my schedule works out, it allows me to go somewhere almost every other weekend. Lucky for you, I have a long weekend when you and Perry come.”

  Jude grins. “Lucky for me, huh? I expect big things, BIG for when we get there.”

  “I just hope the weather holds out,” Hailey frowns. “How's your head? Is everything better?”

  “Yeah, headaches went away after about a week. Luke wouldn't stop taking the piss out of me, though. And that damn bird...”

  “Did Luke ever finish the story about his ship running aground in Thailand?”

  Jude sits up, growing animated. “Yes, it was crazy. Crazy. So it's late at night when it happens...”

  By the time Jude is done with his story, Hailey is leaning forward, hand cupped over her mouth in suspense. “I can't believe he survived that!”

  “You and me both. And then... he was in Cambodia during the Khmer Rouge genocide,” Jude starts on another story, shaking his head the whole time in amazement. “He's old as dirt, but he's as sharp as a tack.”

  “He sounds wonderful,” Hailey tucks some hair behind her ear, bracelets jingling. “I'd like to meet him when I get back.”

  “Sure, sure. I have to warn you though, that damn bird... Just avoid that thing.”

  “Noted. It's nice that you spend time with him. It must be lonely, having spent his entire life with someone, and now he's outlived most of his family and his wife. He’s all alone in the world.”

  “I'll tell you what, all the places he's traveled, all the chances he had - not once was he unfaithful to her. It's pretty impressive. He knew her his whole life, they got married as kids, and every time he was away, she waited for him to come home so he could tell her his stories and he could eat her burned food. She was an awful cook.” Jude loses focus for a moment, looking off to the side in silence.

  “Sounds like they had something pretty special,” Hailey's voice is quiet, tentative. “Jude, I –”

  She's interrupted by a voice coming from her doorway. “Who are you talking to? Is it that guy from back home? Jude?”

  The guy from back home? Interesting.

  Nodding, Hailey scoots over as Marta sticks her head in view. Jude waves at her, smiling, “Hey there.”

  “Oh, hello,” she smiles flirtatiously. “You're coming in a week to visit Hailey? It will be magnificent. You'll love it here. We'll make sure you have a good time.” She talks quickly, in constant motion, exuding infectious energy.

  “Good, great. I'm looking forward to meeting you,” he replies politely. Marta straightens and says something to Hailey; he's not sure what, but the blush creeping up her neck is pretty telling. Hailey pushes her away, saying that she'll be there in a minute.

  “I got to go. We're going to listen to one of our roommates play at this jazz club. Moral support and everything.”

  “Ah, such a good friend. Well, make sure you snap hard for me. I'll send you our flight info in a bit.”

  “Sounds great, let me know if anything changes.”

  “Sure thing. Bye Miss Hailey,” Jude waves goodbye as she disconnects.

  Two days later, Jude is working his last shift before his trip. His crew is responding a call at a local retirement community, helping an ambulance that is low on heavy lifters. The patient is rapidly deteriorating, and both the Medics climb into the back of the ambulance, asking one of the firefighters to take them to the hospital as they provide care. Jude volunteers, hopping in the front seat and driving them safely with lights and sirens.

  Once they get the patient inside, there's a lot of downtime as Jude has to wait for the medics to write up their report and turnover their ambulance to prepare for their next call. It's nearly two in the morning, and Jude feels himself lagging, so he offers to pick up some questionable coffee in the cafeteria.

  It's eerie, being in the hospital late at night. Minimal staffing and lots of long, dim corridors invite one's imagination to go wild. On Jude's return trip, he hears the sound of crying coming from one such corridor. Concerned, he goes to investigate. Of all the people, he finds Dr. Mitchell, leaning against a wall, with her hand covering her face.

  “Dr. Mitchell? Are you okay?” He tries not to startle her, but she takes a step away anyway, hand pressed to her chest. “Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.”

  She looks at him in confusion for a moment, taking in his appearance. “Are you a firefighter?”

  Jude looks at his blue polo shirt with station emblem, blue cargo pants, steel-toed black boots, and radio. “What gave me away?”

  “Ah, I remember you, one of the Jennings.”

  “Guilty,” he says. “I'm sorry for bothering you, but... you know, crying, dark hallway...”

  “I'm... fine,” she shakes her head, wiping away tears. “You don't need to stay.”

  “I have a very good friend who says she's fine when she's the complete opposite, so I'm going to assume this is the case for you as well.”

  “Seriously, I'm okay. I just have lots of things going on right now. Don't worry about it.” Her tone is one that leaves no room for arguing. He senses that she's used to getting her way.

  “Okay, well. You want one of these?” Jude holds up the cardboard tray loaded with full coffee cups. “You can have one and... not tell me what's wrong. We can stand around awkwardly until your eyes stop leaking. Could work out great.”

  She laughs, shaking her head. “Fine, sure. Yeah, I'll take one.”

  Slowly they return back to the emergency department, weaving through dark halls, quiet except for the occasional question. She asks his first name again, asking if he's the one who's name is plastered to the signs that lead into town.

  “Ah yeah, that's me.”

  “Champion? That's pretty exciting. What did you get it in?”

  Jude runs his hands through his hair, “Ballroom dance.”

  “What is that?” He goes through the painful experience of describing what he does to the uninitiated. She grows more perplexed as he talks. When
he finishes, she gives him the response most women who could give a damn about sports: “Oh, that's... interesting.”

  At this point, they've reached the department. She uses her staff card to swipe them in through the secured doors, and they stop at the nurses’ station. “Well, you got your wish, Jude Jennings, you got your coffee.”

  He arches his eyebrows, bemused. “You're right. I guess I did.”

  “Thank you,” she says quietly, feeling inquisitive gazes upon them. “I appreciate it.”

  “No problem, Dr. Mitchell. Have a good night,” he turns to walk to the medic room, stopping when she calls his name. “It's Cynthia, by the way.”

  He ducks his head, smiling to himself. “Night, Cynthia.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Dude, taking a red-eye was not a good idea. We're going to be exhausted by the time we get there,” Perry mutters from his middle seat. “I can't believe I lost Rock Paper Scissors. Next time, you ride in the center.”

  “Shh, it's getting to the good part,” Jude elbows Perry as he focuses on the movie playing on the headset in front of him. “Take a Benadryl or something. We've got to hit the ground running once we get there.”

  “You know, our Mancation is not getting off to a good start.”

  “Sure it is,” Jude hunkers down in his seat, trying to ignore his excitement. He's not sure if it's because he's been working so much, or the vacation, or seeing Hailey, but he's in a ridiculously good mood.

  This mood follows him for the next seven hours, through customs, through passport security, all the way to the arrival hall. All the way until he has Hailey wrapped up tight in his arms.

  “It's so good to see both of you!” Hailey chimes as she also pulls Perry in for a hug. “What's with the scruff, Perry? You look -”

  “Don't say homeless, it really pisses him off,” Jude interrupts as they break apart and head towards baggage claim.

  “I was going to say... distinguished. ”

  “Why thank you Hailey,” he gives Jude a smug look. “I missed you a lot more than I thought.”