by Gina Wilkins
Haley lifted both her eyebrows in an expression of confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. You just seem a little distracted this evening. Is everything going okay on your rotation?”
“Everything’s fine. And I thought we agreed not to talk about work tonight, anyway.”
“You know I’m always available to talk if you need to. About anything.”
Haley had grown so close to Anne during the past two years. She considered Anne her closest friend, a friendship she hoped would endure long past graduation from medical school. She still had friends from high school and college, but it was hard to stay in contact with them when they were all so busy pursuing separate lives and careers. Anne shared the experience of those first two years of med school, which gave them a common base most people wouldn’t quite understand.
Haley had been there for Anne when Anne had been trying to figure out how to break it to her family that she had eloped with a man her parents had strongly disapproved of. Fortunately, Anne’s parents had come around to accept her husband into the family, but Anne still expressed gratitude that she’d had Haley to confide in during that stressful time. And Haley knew Anne was willing to return the favor at any time.
“Thanks, Anne. But everything’s fine. Diagnostic clinic is interesting, something different every day. And I’m finally getting faster at the H & Ps, which is making my resident happy.”
“That’s good. How’s Ron doing?”
Swallowing a sip of fruit punch a little too hard, Haley dabbed at her lips with her napkin before replying. “He’s doing well. Still trying to pick up speed on his exams. You know how bad he is to get to talking with his patients and lose track of time. The patients love him, though.”
“Of course. Everyone loves Ron.”
“Well, not everyone.” They were both aware of a few classmates who didn’t care for Ron’s quirky sense of humor, and one particularly stuffy professor who’d accused Ron of not taking his training seriously enough. It was an accusation Haley had made herself a few times, before she’d figured out that Ron took his education more seriously than he allowed most others to see. So many insecurities were hidden behind that charming joker’s grin of his. She still wondered what in his past had caused him to be so self-doubting, despite his usual air of easy confidence.
“Okay, most people love Ron,” Anne corrected with a chuckle. “He really is a great guy.”
“Yes, he is.” Haley reached again for her punch glass.
“Pretty bracelet. Is it new?”
Haley glanced at the polished pink stones encircling her right wrist. “Um, yes, it is.”
“I like it. I haven’t seen you wear the hematite bracelet lately.”
“I broke it a few weeks ago. Haven’t had time to restring it yet.” After a momentary hesitation, she added, “Ron gave me this one.”
Anne looked noticeably unsurprised. “Did he?”
“Yeah. He was with me when I broke my other one, and he said he saw this in the hospital gift shop and bought it on impulse.”
“That was nice of him.” Both Anne’s voice and expression were bland as she dipped a chip into salsa, giving no clue to her thoughts.
“He just bought it on a whim. He wanted to do something nice for the auxiliary and to thank me for helping him study.”
“Hmm.” Anne crunched the chip.
“Okay, what’s that supposed to mean?”
After washing the chip down with a sip of punch, Anne replied, “I don’t know what you mean. I just said, hmm.”
Haley grimaced. “Sorry. Guess I’m a little oversensitive.”
“Any particular reason?”
“No, it’s just—” She stopped herself with a sigh. This was Anne, she reminded herself. Her best friend. “Okay, it’s silly, but things have been a little…strained between Ron and me for the past few weeks.”
Anne groaned. “You’re fighting again?”
“No, it’s not like that.” Taking a deep breath, she told her friend about the awkward encounters with Ms. McMillan, leaving out the patient’s name, of course. “It’s so ridiculous,” she concluded. “Usually Ron and I would have laughed about something like that. I don’t know why we let it freak us out this time. He said it was my fault.”
“Of course he did.”
Haley nodded vigorously. “He always blames me.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Setting down her fork, Haley frowned across the table. “You’re being very cryptic tonight.”
“Am I?” Anne chuckled at her own cleverness.
“Cute.” Haley toyed with the pink stone bracelet for a moment before asking, “You don’t think there was any truth in what my patient said, do you? I mean, about Ron…well, having feelings for me.”
Her eyes soft, Anne replied, “I can’t really answer that. But I think the more immediate question is—do you have feelings for Ron?”
Haley pushed her half-empty plate away, her appetite suddenly gone. “I consider Ron one of my closest friends, of course.”
Even she heard the hollowness of that assertion.
“So do I,” Anne said, searching Haley’s face. “But I’m not getting all flustered at the thought of him, either. Liam’s the only man who’s ever made me feel that way.”
Because Anne was head over heels in love with Liam, and claimed to have felt that way from the first time she’d met him, Haley squirmed a little in her seat in response to the comparison. “I’m not all flustered.”
“Hmm.” Anne scooped up a forkful of guacamole, smiling enigmatically as she ate it, and using the bite as an excuse not to say more.
Feeling her cheeks warm, Haley insisted, “I’m not flustered.”
She reached jerkily for her punch glass, then swore beneath her breath when she almost dumped the red beverage in her lap. Steadying the glass quickly, she left it on the table and knotted her napkin in her nap, wondering exactly what her friend had seen in her face when she’d studied her so closely.
Did Anne know her well enough to see things Haley had been trying to hide even from herself?
Maybe she wouldn’t ask Ron to dinner for a while, after all. Just until this silly phase was behind them.
Chapter Four
Ron wished he understood exactly what had changed between himself and Haley as broiling August sizzled into the first week of September. Their internal medicine rotation had ended, and the shelf exam was behind them. Haley, Ron and Hardik had met a couple more times to study for that final exam before moving on to their next rotation, pediatrics. They’d fallen easily into their customary study routines, and he was sure the reviews had helped him do well on the test.
Haley had been her usual self during those sessions. Smiling, encouraging, focused. Pushing both him and Hardik to do their best, just as she would do, herself. She laughed at their jokes, swapped stories about anonymous patients and not-so-anonymous classmates and coworkers. When he teased her, she punched his arm just as she always did, eliciting his habitual exaggerated grimace and protest.
Yet, something was different.
He couldn’t help wondering if she was seeing someone again. She’d acted just this distracted when she’d first starting seeing Kris earlier that year, keeping her relationship with him quiet until Anne had accidentally mentioned it at a study session where she’d been overheard.
He’d disliked Kris from the beginning. Couldn’t put his finger on the reason, exactly; the guy seemed pleasant enough. Just…bland. Way too docile and colorless for Haley. Besides which, it had been a terrible time to get involved with anyone. Second year was a nightmare of classes, tests and preparation for Step 1; it was a crazy time to start a new romance. He’d worried about her being distracted, falling behind, doing something she would regret.
He should have known better, of course. Haley would let nothing interfere with her set path. She’d entertained herself with Kris for a time, then cheerfully moved on, neither the worse for wear.
&nbs
p; Ron had dated during that year, himself. Occasionally. Very casually.
No one had even tempted him to enter a relationship.
Was Haley seeing someone new now that third year had brought a little more spare time? Was she seeing Kris again?
Not that he could blame Kris if he was trying to get her back. Spotting Haley across the hospital parking lot as he walked toward his car, he pushed his hands into the pockets of his gray dress pants. She did look good in the leaf green top and taupe skirt, and the shoes she wore made her legs look a mile long and nicely curvy. But then, Haley always looked good. Fresh, pretty, appealing.
He tried not to think of her that way. Like he’d told her, he would never want to risk messing up their friendship. It meant too much to him. But he wasn’t blind, and he wasn’t a eunuch. He was keenly aware that his friend was seriously hot.
“Hey, Haley!” he called out on impulse, speeding his steps.
She looked over her shoulder with a smile, pausing at the driver’s door of her car. “Hi, Ron.”
“Got plans for this evening?”
“No, why?”
“How about a baseball game?”
She blinked. “A baseball game?”
Resisting the impulse to tease her about the echo, he nodded casually. “Dr. Beck gave me two box-seat tickets for the Travs game tonight. It might be fun to get away from work for a few hours. What do you say?”
“You want me to go with you to the Travelers’ game?”
Laughing, he waved a hand in front of her eyes. “Hello? Anyone home? Why do you keep repeating me?”
Shaking her head a little, Haley gave him a self-conscious smile. “Sorry. I guess my brain’s a little fried from a very busy day.”
“Then you could definitely use a night off. What do you say? Popcorn? Peanuts? Cotton candy?”
She hesitated just long enough to make him wonder if she was trying to come up with an excuse to decline. He held his breath, hoping she’d say yes. It was no big deal, after all. Just two friends spending an evening together. Two very good friends.
And then she lifted her chin and shrugged. “Sure. Why not? I haven’t been to a baseball game in years.”
Satisfaction flooded through him. “Great. It’ll be fun. Maybe you’ll even catch a foul ball.”
“I’d be more likely to get hit in the head by one.”
He grinned. “I’ll pick you up in an hour. Don’t bother eating first.”
“I plan to pig out on ballpark food.”
“Same here. See you.”
He was pleased to see she was smiling when she slid behind the wheel of her car. She appeared as though she might even be looking forward to the outing. He knew he was.
A good-sized crowd had gathered at the North Little Rock ballpark on this pleasantly mild evening for one of the last games of the season. The redbrick exterior of the relatively new park, featuring an impressive clock tower and old-fashioned wrought-iron streetlights, was designed to resemble an old-time train station. This was Haley’s first time to visit, and she was impressed by how pretty and welcoming the entrances appeared.
Ron placed a casual hand on her back as they entered one of the three gates, shoulder to shoulder with other arrivals. She knew it was just a way to keep them from getting separated, but she was keenly aware of the contact between them.
They entered into a covered concourse lined with gift shops and concession stands. Music played from overhead speakers, people milled about and talked and laughed, children dashed, squealing from one end to the other, some wearing Little League uniforms and carrying ball gloves. Scents of popcorn, cotton candy, hot dogs, barbecue and beer wafted past her nose, making her tummy rumble in response. Lunch had been a long time ago.
“Food now, snacks later?” Ron asked.
“Sounds good to me.”
They debated going into the bar and grill but decided to take food to their seats, instead. Part of the fun of eating at the ballpark was risking splattering food all over their clothes, Ron asserted with a grin. Because Haley was wearing a dark red, short-sleeve pullover with comfortable, dark wash jeans and red-and-black ballet slippers, she wasn’t overly worried about her clothes.
She didn’t want to think about the ridiculous amount of time she had spent deciding what to wear, even though she’d had less than an hour to get ready and change before Ron picked her up after work. The scoop-neck tee had been the third shirt she’d tried on. She’d settled on it finally because it was casual enough not to look as though she’d put too much thought into her clothing choice, yet still fitted enough to flatter, something her feminine ego had demanded. Though Ron hadn’t commented on her outfit, she thought she’d seen appreciation in his eyes when she’d opened her door to him.
He looked darned good, himself, in a loose-fitting, soft green Hawaiian print shirt and khaki cargo shorts with sandals. His sandy hair was tousled around his face, making him look young and sporty and appealing. Though no one would call him a “pretty boy,” he looked more like an athlete or a male model than an aspiring doctor, definitely attractive enough to pose for one of those beach ads in a travel magazine. She was aware of the attention he received from young women milling around the concourse while they ordered their food.
The thing was, Ron seemed almost oblivious to his attraction, she reflected, settling into her comfortable green plastic box seat with her hot dog and bottled water. He’d made a few joking remarks about James’s classically handsome face—to James’s embarrassment and everyone else’s amusement—but Haley had never seen an ounce of vanity in Ron, himself. He dressed casually, cared nothing about designer names, wore a practical, inexpensive watch, favored comfort over fashion in his shoes.
He’d mentioned that he’d grown up without much money, so he’d never gotten spoiled to the finer things in life, but she doubted that money would change him much. Ron just wasn’t in “the game,” as she thought of it—that constant striving to impress, to possess, to accumulate. She’d always admired that about him, having little interest in those things, herself.
Her own family had struggled financially when her father had been laid off from his job while she was a freshman in high school. He’d taken the opportunity to fulfill a lifelong dream and open a little Italian restaurant, and Haley had dedicated herself to helping her parents make that dream pay off, working long, unpaid hours in the restaurant after school and on holidays and for two years after her high school graduation. Her parents would never get rich with their establishment, but they had the satisfaction of making a decent living with it now and having a loyal and appreciative customer base. She was so proud of them for following their dreams, just as they had encouraged her to do.
“How’s your hot dog?” Ron asked, looking up from his nachos loaded with cheese, peppers and barbecued pork.
She swallowed a bite of all-beef frank, bun and mustard and then smiled. “It’s delicious. Hot dogs always taste best at a ballpark. How’s your heart-attack-in-a-bowl?”
Laughing, he scooped up more melted yellow cheese onto an already-loaded tortilla chip. “It’s great. I’ll eat an extra helping of veggies at lunch tomorrow to make up for the indulgence.”
“And I’ll eat salad tomorrow,” she joked in return. “Because I am definitely having cotton candy before I leave here tonight.”
A blast of organ music and a stir of reaction from the crowd signaled the beginning of the minor league baseball game. The clatter of inflatable plastic “thunder sticks” blended with the cacophony of other sounds, and while it was noisy, Haley found the atmosphere oddly relaxing. Probably because it was so different from her usual routines.
It really was a beautiful early evening. Far on the other side of the park, beyond right field, children frolicked on the grassy berms and climbed on playground equipment. Families and company groups milled beneath rented picnic pavilions. She couldn’t see the Arkansas River flowing on the other side of the park, but the Little Rock skyline on the far side of the
river provided the backdrop for the game. Old warehouses and new skyscrapers were stacked like plastic building blocks against the darkening blue sky. Because their seats faced west, Haley was glad she’d thought to wear her sunglasses against the glare of the setting sun. Ron had slipped on a pair of aviators, but quite a few of the people surrounding them were squinting and shading their eyes with their hands, including the giggly teenage girls sitting on Haley’s right.
Vendors in red-and-white striped shirts and bulging red cash aprons climbed the steps hawking peanuts, popcorn, Cracker Jacks, cotton candy and cold beer. Someone dressed as the team mascot, Shelley, a bucktoothed brown horse in a Travelers jersey and cap, worked the crowd, posing with excited children and making them laugh with his antics.
Both Haley and Ron were entertained by a little boy in the row directly in front of them. Blond and blue-eyed, he might have been two years old. He looked adorable in his tiny baseball cap and jersey, and he held a soft toddler-sized catcher’s mitt that he swung enthusiastically, hitting both his indulgent parents in the head more than once. He liked to stand backward in his seat, flirting with Haley. She flirted in return, making him grin and bounce. Ron also teased the boy, eliciting musical laughs.
Ron was good with kids, Haley noted. It was no wonder he was doing so well on the peds rotation so far. He liked seniors and toddlers, he’d said. Both groups adored him.
The home team scored a home run late in the third inning, and the crowd erupted in cheers. Their hands empty now, Haley and Ron joined the celebration, standing to clap and high-five as two runners crossed home plate, bringing the score to 3–1. They laughed together at the between-inning antics on the field—mascot races, potato-sack races, dizzy-bat races. The sun went down and the park lights blazed, and she and Ron removed their dark glasses. He knew much more about the game than she did, and he patiently answered her questions about rules and strategy. There were no awkward pauses, for which she was grateful. She was simply enjoying this outing with him.
By the sixth inning, Ron decided he was ready for his next course of ballpark food. He debated between a funnel cake and a soft pretzel, while Haley flagged down a vendor and pointed to a cone of pink cotton candy. She rationalized the purchase by reminding herself that the treat was mostly air, and probably the lowest calories of the choices, despite the lack of nutritional value.
