Sticky Notes - A clean romance (Ethel King Series Book 1)

by Sherri Schoenborn Murray

  “I’ll drop you off here and find parking. Wait for me. I’ll walk you up.”

  He’d have to park somewhere a permit wasn’t required. He might have quite the trek. “Thanks, Brad.”

  He slid the wheelchair out of the back of the truck and half lifted, half assisted her out of the cab. After she was seated, he set the chair’s parking brake. “I’ll meet you here.”

  Katherine maneuvered the wheelchair to a less conspicuous spot in the shade of a large nearby elm tree. Classes were in session, so only a handful of students milled outside. At this very moment, Benton’s Civil War class was in full swing.

  “Lord, I feel anxious. Help me to handle Brad right. I pray he doesn’t like me too much. In Jesus’s name, amen.”

  Several minutes later, Brad’s bright Hawaiian shirt announced his return as he strode around the side of the brick building. She rolled the wheelchair into the sunlight and waved as he drew near.

  “Katherine . . .” Someone chuckled.

  Without turning to look peripherally, she knew it was Joe.

  “For being injured, you get around, Kate.” He halted a few feet away.

  “Hi, Joe. How did you like the movie last night?” Placing her hand over her eyes, she saw Brad approach, about eight yards away.

  “Not as much as you did. Anna and I are more Romancing the Stone types.”

  Katherine swallowed. “Joe, meet Brad, my doctor.”

  “Nice to meet you, Joe.” Brad held out his hand.

  Joe’s forehead wrinkled. He shook Brad’s hand, looking sideways at her.

  “Brad’s taking me to a makeup exam.” Katherine felt healthy blood flow enter her face.

  “Uh, call me, Kate. We need to catch up.” Joe openly studied Brad. “Anna doesn’t want me calling you anymore, so you’ll have to call me.”

  She nodded.

  Brad pushed her wheelchair toward the registrar’s entrance. “Do you two keep in touch?”

  “Yes, we’re good friends. We both played tennis for the U of I team. He’s the head coach here now.”

  “Did I detect a slight look of disapproval?” Brad glanced back over his shoulder.

  “Maybe.” Katherine left it at that.

  They took the elevator to the third floor. Brad pushed her wheelchair down the hallway. Katherine gripped her hands in her lap and reminded herself that Quinn, Evans, and Cindy were all in class—there was no chance of running into them.

  At the end of the hallway sat Anita Dougal, the hall secretary.

  “Hi, I’m Katherine King. I missed Professor Fancy’s midterm exam and—”

  “I have it right here for you.” Anita lifted a painted rock paperweight off her desk and handed her an essay booklet, a white sheet of exam questions, and a clipboard.

  Brad steered her chair behind the secretary’s desk and set the parking brake. Katherine glanced around. There was no place for him to sit, and he’d brought a glossy Powerboat magazine. She would have sworn there was usually a chair to the right of Anita’s desk.

  “It’ll take me a full hour, Brad. I’m sorry; I didn’t know there wouldn’t be seating.”

  “There’s the library or the Commons,” Anita said.

  “I’ll check out the Commons. Good luck.” He winked at Katherine.

  “Thanks.”

  Learn from this: Never have your German doctor wearing a Hawaiian shirt bring you to an exam in the same hallway as the professor you’re in love with. It’s very, very awkward.

  Ж

  Out of the three essay questions, Katherine chose Question B: How accurate is the following : The Lewis and Clark expedition was an example of egalitarianism. The trials of the trail brought a diverse group of people together, turning the expedition into an idealized “American melting pot.” Refute or support this interpretation. With her head bowed, Katherine began writing.

  She glanced at her watch. Four minutes were left to wrap up her conclusion. Despite her minimal study over the weekend, her thoughts flowed. She quickly skimmed through the essay before turning it in to Anita. From there, she maneuvered her wheelchair out into the main hallway. She didn’t have to wait long before Brad jogged up the stairs.

  There was a wholesomeness about him that shone.

  “The Commons is a happening place.” He wheeled her chair into the elevator.

  “Yes, it’s definitely the hangout. Did you get something to drink?”

  “Yes, a SoBe.”

  “You sound like a health nut.”

  “Not really.”

  He drove north of town, past Rosauer’s Grocery, for a quarter of a mile before turning right into a newer development, and then left into the driveway of a traditional-style, two-story home. The yard was small; the shop that Quinn had envisioned appeared to be the attached four-car garage.

  “I heard your garage is full of water sports equipment.”

  He chuckled. “My motto is every man has to have at least one or two boats to work on.” He hopped out and swung open her door.

  Apprehension kicked in. “Have you taken a patient home before?”

  “No, this is a first, I promise.” He waited while she swiveled herself to face him, and he again assisted her during the last three-foot drop.

  “I go in through the back. The alarm’s there.” He unlocked the side garage door, and the warning alarm buzzed until he pressed a four-digit code. Next, he flipped on the overhead lights. A glossy yellow boat on a trailer was in the first bay, and a longer, bright red boat was parked at an angle across two bays. “This one’s my pride and joy.” He pointed to the Santa-red boat. “It’s a twenty-seven foot Hallett with an inboard engine, in case anyone asks.”

  “Where do you go boating around here?” She leaned against her crutches.

  “The Snake’s only a half hour away.” Two newer-looking jet skis filled the triangular gap between the boats.

  “You have a theme.”

  He chuckled and led her through the mudroom to a sparsely furnished great room. The mismatched furniture looked secondhand while the new monster-screen television probably cost several thousand dollars.

  He’s a bachelor, she reminded herself.

  “That’s the most comfortable seat in the house.” He nodded toward a worn, dark green upholstered couch with paisley print. She leaned the crutches against the side of the coffee table before sitting down.

  Behind her, a cupboard opened and closed. “I have several flavors of green teas and decaf.”

  “Plain ole green tea is great.”

  “That’s how I am. I don’t care much for the flavored stuff.” Turning toward the sink, he filled the mugs at the instant hot water tap.

  “Do you have any buddies that you boat with?”

  “I usually go with my brother who lives in Lewiston. There're a doctor and a male nurse at the hospital that have gone with me a few times. Not everyone’s comfortable in a boat going eighty plus.”

  “Eighty miles per hour?”

  “Yes.” He set two mugs down on the scratched coffee table in front of her.

  “The last time I went boating, I blew a head on the Hallett. So I’m down to the Old Yeller.” He sat down a foot away from her and stretched his right arm along the back of the couch behind her.

  The afternoon might prove more difficult than she’d foreseen. For a moment, she prayed with her eyes wide open.

  “I have a younger brother who’s into motorcycles, but never boats,” she said.

  “What about your dad’s hobbies?”

  “He’s very much a family man . . . camping, Boy Scouts, and now a few grandchildren.”

  “Have you heard the acronym phrase for boat?”

  “No.” Even their conversation had a theme.

  “Break out another thousand.” He grinned.

  “Good thing you’re a doctor.”

  He grinned. “I always carry tools and spare parts. I have a half Craftsman rollaway under the deck of my Hallett.”

  “Your other boat doesn�
�t break down as much?”

  “Only because it’s rarely in the water.” Returning his mug to the table, he swiveled to face her.

  She looked around for a coaster but didn’t see one. Water spots marred the surface of the wood coffee table. She set her mug down and straightened her skirt.

  “How do you feel about Zhivago?” He knit his blond brows.

  Boy, he’d gotten right to the point. She shrugged. “I’m a little mad at him. I almost died. Didn’t I?”

  “Yes.”

  “I almost died, and I had a young German doctor show an interest in me, and he didn’t appear to come to his senses until Saturday, and I’d accepted your offer by that time.”

  Brad smiled softly and looked at the four inches of worn couch cushion between them. “He came to his senses?”

  “Yes.” She sat up a little taller. “He pummeled me with I wants.”

  “What do you mean?” Brad’s eyes narrowed.

  “You know . . . ‘I want to spend more time with you. I want you to stop thinking about . . .’” Maybe it was due to the glimmer of hope in Brad’s eyes, but her mind went blank.

  “Have you been thinking about Dr. Ungerbach?”

  She gripped her hands together tight against her tummy. She shouldn’t have mentioned the I wants. “You’re a great guy, Brad, and . . .” To protect Quinn, it was best she not say another word.

  “Sounds like you were ready to be his girl.”

  “I was. Maybe in a few weeks when I’ve graduated.”

  “Well, if it’s any consolation, Kitty said that during their date, most of their conversation revolved around you. That even his prayer at the table included you.”

  A wave of warm emotion engulfed her. “That’s kind of you to tell me.” She looked at the coffee table. “You didn’t have to tell me that.” Tears ebbed, and she swallowed a large lump in her throat. Quinn had prayed with one of his blind dates, and about her.

  “Should I take you home now?”

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Katherine picked her mug up off the coffee table and peered inside. There was only half a gulp left. Brad rose and took the mug from her. Was he going to pick up his car keys from on top of the granite island? Instead, reusing the tea bag, he refilled the mug at the hot water tap and then returned to set the mug on the coffee table in front of her.

  He maneuvered into the far corner of the couch and studied her.

  “I’ve felt numb lately. Could it be the drugs?”

  “I doubt it.” He shook his head. “After a near-death experience, sometimes people look at life differently.”

  “I don’t want to just talk about me,” she whispered.

  “I do.”

  She sighed. “If you could be a doctor in any American war, what war would you want it to be?”

  “I was just reminded that you are a history buff. Hmmm . . .” He placed an arm along the top of the couch. “For American wars, the Civil War’s main anesthetic was chloroform, definitely not my choice. If I remember correctly, the Civil War was the first time Quinine was used to treat typhoid fever.”

  “It was.”

  He nodded. “I would have to say I’d prefer a more modern war. There would be less shock, suffering, a higher percentage of success, lives saved.

  “Good question, Katherine. That’s one I’ve never been asked on a first date before.”

  Like she’d foreseen, green tea was their first date.

  During the drive home, he cleared his throat. “Do you have anything planned tomorrow?”

  She intertwined her fingers in her lap. “I have a date next Friday with Quinn that should answer a lot of questions for me. I’d like not to clutter my head too much because of it.”

  “Are you saying I only have until Friday?”

  Was he kidding?

  He stopped first in line at a red light at the intersection of Third Street and Highway 95, and looked over at her. Though Brad appeared completely serious, she was tempted to peer over her shoulder at the Micro Theater, which sat one block west.

  “You’re beautiful, intelligent, and honest, Katherine. Three qualities that, from my dating experience, don’t often merge.”

  Off in the distance, the one-way, three-lane road curved around a large grain silo. She reminded herself of his extreme sports. “And, you like challenges?”

  “How about I pick you up after lunch tomorrow, and we head to Lewiston?” He glanced from the red light to her. “We’ll boat in the afternoon, and there’s a little diner that we can eat dinner at and still have a nice view of the boat.”

  It sounded funny, but she knew what he meant. “With my foot and all—”

  “I won’t go fast; it’ll be more of a scenic boat ride.”

  “I don’t think so, Brad. I have studies and meds; already my brain feels cluttered.”

  “You’re giving me hope.” He grinned.

  She peered over her shoulder at the Micro Theater. Did Evans and Benton plan the loon? Maybe it had been pure luck that the woman glanced back at him. The loon could have been any woman off the street.

  “Katherine. Earth to Katherine.” Brad cleared his throat.

  “I’m sorry . . . Brad.” She sighed and gave into her epiphany. “They knew we were having green tea today, and they did their best to confuse me.”

  “The professors’ group?”

  Did they want what was best for her? Evans had tried to set her up with Carl. Quinn blind dated small-town women every week. And now, she’d allowed her professor to kiss her, and he hadn’t even met Miss Palouse yet.

  “Yes, the professors’ group.”

  Ж

  Grandma made a pot of decaf coffee and joined Katherine at the kitchen table. Setting her elbows on the Formica tabletop, Grandma gripped the mug with both hands.

  “Quinn stopped by on his way home for lunch and asked if you were home yet. I told him no. He looked like a lost little boy, Katherine. I wish you could have been here to see his face.”

  The viselike grip only briefly squeezed her heart. “My time with Brad was enjoyable, Grandma.”

  Grandma adjusted her glasses. “Cindy called too. What a sweetheart. We became best friends at the hospital. She wants to have a potluck at her house next Sunday.”

  “That’ll be fun, Grandma. What are we going to bring?”

  “I think I’ll make Carol’s raspberry Jell-O salad again.” Grandma rose from the table, opened a cupboard, and pulled down her wooden recipe box.

  The phone rang. “That phone has never rung as much in its life as it has this summer.” Grandma giggled. “Hello.—Yes, she’s here, Quinn. I’ll get her for you.” She covered the receiver. “It’s four thirty, which means he’s finished with his office hours and is on his way home. He’s probably in the car.”

  Using one crutch, Katherine carried her mug to the sink. She took the receiver from Grandma and hopped to a chair at the mahogany dining table in the living area and sat down.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, Katherine, it’s Quinn. How did you feel about your exam this morning?”

  “Considering everything, it flowed.”

  “Yes, that’s what Cindy thought, too. She gave you an A. I was in her office when she read through it.”

  “Good. What did you give me on the last exam?”

  “I haven’t graded them yet.”

  “That’s not like you, Mr. Punctual.”

  “Ask him if he’s coming to dinner,” Grandma said from the kitchen.

  Katherine paused. “Did you hear that?”

  “Yes. Ask her what I can bring.”

  “Grandma, what do you want Benton to bring?” Katherine held the receiver toward the kitchen.

  “Tell him I just want him to get my little kettle barbecue going. I thought we’d have burgers. I even made a macaroni salad.”

  “Did you hear that, Benton?”

  “Yes. Prepare me, Katherine. How did it go today?”

  “It went better than I expected.
He’s a nice guy.”

  “Uh-huh. Did he ask you out for a second date?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you accept?”

  “I’m a little undecided.”

  “I see.” There was a slight pause. “What time does Ethel want me to start the barbecue?”

  Ж

  In the shade of the crabapple tree in the backyard, Grandma set up lawn chairs. Benton dumped a quarter bag of briquettes in the bottom of the barbecue. After squeezing lighter fluid on top, he lit a match.

  “I’ll let it heat up for a while.” He sat in the remaining chair on the other side of Grandma.

  “I’ll go get the patties and condiments ready.” Grandma pushed herself out of her lawn chair.

  Alone with Benton, Katherine set her hands in her lap and tried to relax. “How was your day, Mr. Benton?”

  “Good. I’m still grading midterms. Have I addressed the Quinn List with you yet?”

  “No, I’ve been curious about your response.”

  “Sometime soon, I’d like you to come over to my place, and we’ll go over it together, line by line.”

  “Why can’t we read it here?”

  “I’d prefer to discuss it at my place.”

  “Why?” She studied his somber brown eyes.

  “Because.”

  She waited for him to elaborate further, but he didn’t. “What did you think?”

  “I’d prefer to discuss it at my place.”

  “Benton, you’re a mystery.”

  “I am. So green tea was your first date; what’s he planning for your second?” He rose to check the briquettes.

  “He invited me to Lewiston to meet his brother, and maybe go boating and have dinner at some diner where we can see his boat.”

  “Hmmm . . . what kind of boat?”

  “A bright yellow, sixteen footer something.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “So this Friday is Miss Palouse?”

  He sat down, this time in the lawn chair beside her. “You know meeting her is now just a formality.”

  She wanted to pen his words in the journals of her heart.

  “Will you be at Evans’s?” he asked.