Shadows 01 Superstition Shadows

by K C West

  The Parker family gathered their luggage. “Doctor Curtis,” Reverend Parker said, shaking my hand again. “You are truly our Guardian Angel.”

  “Glad I could help, but believe me, I’m no angel.” I bent to pick up my gear, and an employee rushed over to assist me. We rode the elevator to the third floor and I joined the Parkers long enough to remove my earlier baggage from the suite.

  The management had provided a basket of fruit and a canister of whole cashews as a welcoming gift for me. While the Parkers exclaimed over their plush new surroundings, I appropriated an orange and the nuts, nodded to the hotel employee who grabbed my bags, and we made our way to the single.

  Ten minutes later, I was under the shower, letting the hot, steaming spray flow over my body. This is divine! I may never leave. The sun showers at camp can’t compare to the real thing. I squeezed a stream of raspberry scented body wash into my palm and worked it into a lather. I imagined Reverend and Mrs. Parker enjoying the Jacuzzi after their long drive and smiled.

  Feeling clean and drowsy in cut-offs and a fresh tee shirt, I turned on the television to catch the latest news and explored dinner options from the hotel’s extensive room service menu. I settled on pork medallions with mango chutney, candied yams, and mixed green salad with balsamic vinegar. A pot of hot tea and chocolate mousse completed my order. So much for watching my waistline. But, hell, digging in dirt all week and doing good deeds for ministers and their families can work up an appetite.

  The phone rang just as the meal arrived. Cradling the receiver between my chin and shoulder, I indicated the table by the window — with a view of the highway — to the young woman with the tray and pressed a ten-dollar bill into her hand with my thanks. She smiled her appreciation and left.

  “PJ Curtis, thanks for holding,” I said into the phone, my taste buds already stimulated by the entree’s aroma. My stomach was so empty I feared the caller could hear its rumblings.

  “Priscilla, finally I found you. I couldn’t get you on your cell phone and when I called the Holiday Inn, they gave me this other number.”

  “Who is-Vivian? Is that you?” What did my father’s Personal assistant want with me? “Cell phone? Oh, yeah, Probably needs charging. Wait, is Father—”

  “He’s fine, dear. And we are relieved to know that you and your group weren’t injured by the earthquake.”

  I could smell the tangy fruit sauce on the pork and swallowed some excess saliva. “So, uh …what is the problem, Vivian?” Can we get to the point before I die of starvation?

  “Your father wants to send flowers to Kim and he needs to know where to have them delivered.”

  “Flowers? For Kim? Because of the earthquake?”

  She laughed. “No silly. Surely, you know that it’s Kim’s birthday on Thanksgiving Day.”

  Jesus! And she was going to spend the day alone. “Well … no. She uh… Listen, why don’t you send them to the site the day before? If you offer a big enough tip, I’ll bet they’ll take them as far as the trailhead and our security team can handle the delivery.” I gave her identifying landmarks and assured her it would work out.

  “Would you suggest roses?”

  Shit! I don’t know. Kim likes the wildflowers that grow wild in the rocky crags along the desert trails. She told me they bloom so sporadically in the spring, after a rain. I know she admired their toughness. But, as for a favorite kind… I’m clueless…

  “I guess that’s always a good choice.” How’s that for a lame answer? Sorry, I don’t think well when I’m drooling.

  We finished our conversation and I settled on the bed with my feast. In between tangy bites of meat, I thought some more about Vivian’s call. Kim had agreed to a Thanksgiving dinner for the two of us. The big day was just a week away. I had originally thought to make reservations in Phoenix, but now I wasn’t so sure. I sat and made notes as I chewed. If I could keep the suite for the duration of my stay in Arizona, and if the restaurant would provide us with turkey and all the trimmings, then we could stay right here at the Casa Grande. Well, not here, here. In the suite.

  I licked the last of the mousse off of my spoon and sighed. There is something so decadent about the taste of chocolate.

  Reluctantly, I placed the spoon beside the empty dish, rolled off the bed and grabbed the phone. The hotel was more than happy to accommodate my needs. I pumped my fist into the air at the conclusion of that call. Next, I called Boston to arrange for Kim’s birthday gift. That took a little doing, but I knew it would be perfect for her as soon as I thought of it. Mitch agreed to pack it and ship it by air charter to Phoenix. Then a messenger service would deliver it to the site on Wednesday in time for the celebration that I was sure we’d be springing on our unsuspecting boss. I caught myself grinning. It was all coming together so well.

  You said nothing fancy, Kim. Well, Thanksgiving Dinner will be a quiet meal for two. You don’t have to travel far and you don’t have to dress up.

  I finished my meal and leaned back on the bed. Closing my eyes, I imagined the whole event. There would be soft music, good food, and a view of our workplace—but we wouldn’t talk shop, unless Kim wanted it that way. I’d much rather spend the time getting to know her better. Finding out her favorite flower, for instance. We could talk long into the evening. There was the Jacuzzi… and room to sleepover if she wanted.

  Whoa! Wait a minute.

  I sat up, feeling overly warm.

  It’s time I faced this. It’s time I gave this situation with Kim some serious thought. Every time I think of her in a non-work related way, my thoughts turn romantic.

  The most amazing lightness filled my chest. It was as if a bottle of champagne had been opened and all the tiny bubbles spilled into my blood stream. It felt wonderful and scary at the same time.

  C’mon, it’s not really romantic, is it? I’m just feeling the need to give something back to the wonderful woman who guided me and supported me for the past few months. I like being with her even when we’re not working. We’re friends … just good friends.

  I sighed and leaned back against the headboard, my fingers laced together behind my head.

  My feelings for Kim have changed so much during the time we’ve worked together. I’ve grown to respect and care for her as a mentor, colleague and friend. She’s shown she cares about me, too. I’m not imagining it. Several times I’ve caught her smiling at me and giving me certain looks. Her touches have been special, too. But, she’s never said anything further.

  What am I going to do about her and this feeling I get when I’m with her? We’ve become good friends, but it’s more than that for me now. I feel more for her than any other female friend I’ve had in the past. What is it? Where is it coming from?

  I mean, sometimes when she touches my arm, I feel like electrodes are attached to my skin. And my stomach gets all crazy. Kim makes me feel so much more alive than I’ve ever felt. And it’s more than my body reacting. I want to work harder, be smarter … make her proud of me. My heart races, my palms sweat and sometimes my toes even tingle when I think about her … not to mention what she does to my more erogenous zones. I’ve never experienced that sensation with anyone else before … and I must admit, it doesn’t feel bad at all. In fact, it feels damn good.

  So why am I so worried? I’ve never sacrificed my own pleasure for any reason before. Why am I walking on eggshells over this? I can’t deny it any longer. I’m in love with her.

  It does surprise me that it happened here and now, when I least expected it. I’ve spent years drifting in and out of casual relationships, dropping lovers like petals from a dead flower. All that time, I was looking for the right guy … and it was a gal that I needed! Now, it makes sense. I spent so much time trying to please men, hoping I’d find a deep connection, a feeling of comfort and belonging with one of them. When it didn’t happen, I just moved on to the next, thinking surely if I found the right one…

  I bit my lip and swallowed.

  Okay. I know I’m not
sick, just in love with my boss. That could still be a sticky situation. What if she doesn’t want anything more than friendship from me? She’s had that bad affair with Terry. What if she’s sworn off love?

  My heartbeat quickened. Sweat dampened my skin.

  Images of Kim flooded my mind. I recalled the smooth, muscular feel of her back as I massaged it that morning in the tent… the way she hugged me when the quake hit, an experience so intense I could feel our hearts drumming against our chests … those long, lean, powerful legs … the supple skin at the base of her neck where her shirt’s unbuttoned … her firm, well-rounded butt, so visible through the thin fabric of her cargo pants as she climbed over rocks.

  Can I stay just a friend when images like those pop into my head all the time?

  So many images.

  The long, expressive fingers as they tighten around her trowel or fix our hot tea… the mornings, when we wake up in our sleeping bags and her hair is all tousled from sleep.

  Her face … I’ve memorized every line and wrinkle … and her smile, the one that reaches all the way to those warm, brown eyes, making them crinkle in such an adorable way. I like to think she smiles like that just for me. And those sensual lips. I’ve imagined kissing those lips so often.

  I took a deep shuddering breath.

  I’m confused and exhausted, much too emotional. My mind is stuck in sexual overdrive.

  Damn it! It’s never going to work. Kim thinks I’m straight. Even if she knew I was interested, she’d think I was experimenting with the idea … with her. And, I’m probably not her type, any way. She’d want someone more experienced … more interesting. I remembered Terry’s impromptu visit to Kim’s motor home. More voluptuous.

  Gawd, this is making me insane. What do I do? Confront her? Stay away from her? Keep the status quo or boldly go where I’ve never gone before? I wish I had someone to talk to about this. I wish I had some sort of confirmation.

  I stared at the ceiling, seeking answers. “If I’m supposed to pursue this passion, I need a sign that I’m on the right path. Ya hear me? Show me a sign!”

  I took another deep breath and waited for a full minute.

  Nothing happened.

  This is stupid. How can I think talking to a ceiling—

  The phone rang and I nearly levitated off the bed.

  “I hope I didn’t wake you,” Reverend Parker said.

  Calm down and say something. “No, no … I was … uh … just thinking.” That was brilliant.

  “I wanted to ask you a favor, even though you’ve done so much for us already that I don’t have any right to even ask.”

  “What is it?”

  He coughed and lowered his voice. “Uh, I can’t exactly explain it over the phone. Would it be okay if I brought it over to show you?”

  Right now? Hell, maybe I need a distraction. It can’t hurt to see what he wants. I can always go back to thinking about Kim when he leaves. Ha! As if I could stop myself. “I’m in room three twelve, just to the left of the elevator. You can’t miss it.”

  “Thanks, I’ll be right there.”

  I ran a comb through my hair and waited by the door. So, is this the sign I asked for? Fat chance.

  A faded polo shirt, khaki shorts and bright red tennis shoes had replaced his wrinkled traveling attire. He’d never be mistaken for a GQ model in that outfit, but there was something about Reverend Parker that put me at ease.

  “You sure don’t look like any minister I’ve ever known, Reverend.” He laughed. “Not that I’ve known very many,” I amended and waved him in. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

  “Thanks. I guess I am a little casual. Rose doesn’t like me to run around in this old shirt, but it’s so comfortable. Like an old friend, ya know?” He looked around. “Nice place you have here. I’d offer to switch rooms, but we’ve gotten very attached to the suite. It’s amazing what a nap and a soak in the Jacuzzi can do for a person’s well being. We even ordered dinner from room service. This ‘lap of luxury’ stuff is quite exciting.”

  “It can be very addictive.”

  “I hear you. Listen, Doctor Curtis…”

  “Hey, it’s PJ, okay? The doctor part isn’t necessary.”

  “Oh sorry. Well, please call me Neil.”

  “Okay … Neil.”

  “You’re not a medical doctor, then?” His voice was deep and very soothing. I found myself responding to his lack of pretension and his seemingly genuine interest in me.

  “I’m an archaeologist.”

  He nodded. “Ah, I see. Well, that’s good, I guess.” His laugh was nervous. “I don’t really know any archaeologists.”

  “We’re harmless most of the time.” I gave him a brief smile.

  “Right.” The nervous laugh again. “Listen … PJ, I think I’ve maybe intruded on you at a bad time.” His gentle, gray eyes examined me with intensity. “You look preoccupied…”

  “No, really. It’s … a personal problem. I’m working on it. What can I do for you?”

  He held out a white square card with printing on both sides. “The management wanted to offer you a complimentary half hour massage. Rose got all excited when she saw it, before she realized that it was meant for you. I thought perhaps … if you didn’t—”

  “You want her to have the massage in my place?”

  He shifted his feet and a shock of light brown hair fell across his forehead. His lips turned slightly upward. “This trip has taken a lot out of her. We’ve been on the road for several days … and, well, she’s never had one before. We don’t have the money for many extras.”

  I tapped the card against my palm. “Sure. Why not? Does she want it right now?”

  “Uh … she doesn’t know I’m asking about it, but …yeah, I guess now would be good. The kids are asleep. I can go down to the lobby and wander around for a while to keep out of the way.”

  I picked up the phone and made the arrangements. “All settled. They’ll be up in twenty minutes. You’d better go and warn her.”

  He exhaled and the grin appeared. “Thank you again. I really had no right to ask.”

  I shook my head. “It’s no problem, really.”

  There was an awkward pause. He shook my hand, lingering a moment, holding it in both of his. My hand was rough and very tanned compared to his. I stared at the simple gold band on his ring finger.

  “She’s going to be so tickled. You are very kind to do this.”

  The simple gesture of his holding my hand and the words of appreciation brought sudden moisture to my eyes. I used my free hand to wipe the tears away.

  “What is it PJ? Can I help you in any way?”

  “I don’t know.” I sniffed. “I’m very mixed up right now.” I swallowed. “Probably not… Thanks for offering, though.”

  He shrugged. “It’s my job … helping people when I can. And I’m used to tears. I have three sisters. Course, I was usually the one crying.”

  I forced myself to laugh and kept staring into his gentle eyes before making a decision. “Maybe, if you wanted, you could come back here for the half hour …uh … we could have a soda or something. It would save you wandering around the lobby.”

  “I’d be honored to join you.” He gave both my hands a squeeze. “Be right back.”

  I leaned against the door once I had closed it. Why did I do that? I barely know the man. Does he look like he can solve my problem?

  I managed to find ice, glasses and two cans of soda. Neil arrived with a bag of corn chips, so I broke open the canister of cashews. I was still angry with myself for inviting him back to the room. My social skills were definitely lacking, but he didn’t seem to mind.

  “I hope root beer will be okay.” I held out both cans.

  He sighed and accepted one. “My all time favorite.”

  We settled at the small table by the window. He peered down at the busy highway. “Quite a picturesque view you have here.”

  I managed to smile at his little joke. “Hey, after my l
ast few days on the mountain, this room is palatial, believe me.”

  Reverend Parker sipped his drink and watched me with a thoughtful expression. He made some idle conversation about the weather and started talking about his family’s drive from Indiana to Arizona and their plans to see a lot of California along the way. “I’ve been called to be an associate minister in a church south of San Francisco. Rose’s brother lives out there and we’re anxious to see him again.”

  “That’s nice,” I replied, not really concentrating on the conversation.

  “He’s had a rough time of it since his partner died.”

  Whoa. What was that? “His … his partner? As in same sex partner?”

  The minister nodded, acting like he imparted this sort of information to strangers everyday. Maybe he did. Maybe it was no big deal or at least he thought it wasn’t to me. Well, cool. Neil is not going to be uptight about my relationship with another woman.

  “John lost Brian three months ago. He was killed in a car accident. Rose and I were very fond of him and she took his death almost as hard as John did. They were members of the church I’m going to serve. The congregation is a congenial mixture of gay and straight, old and young, rich and not so rich. John isn’t the only one who has lost a partner recently, what with the AIDS situation. I’m looking forward to the challenge of getting out there and helping wherever I can.”

  He tapped his fingertips on the edge of the table. “I’ve been doing all the talking. Why don’t you tell me something about yourself? Sometimes it helps to get a fresh perspective on things.”

  “Okay,” I said, not very convincingly.

  “We’ll start with an easy question, at least I hope it is. How did you get interested in archaeology?”

  “Oh, it’s a long story. I got interested while I was a college undergraduate. A favorite teacher of mine went on digs during the summer and talked me into joining her.”

  He crunched on a few corn chips, still watching me with those gentle gray eyes. “Rose said you were from Boston.”

  Uh huh. What else does she know? “I live there now. I went to school in the Boston area and my doctorate is from Boston University. How did your wife happen to know that?”