Never Too Late

by Julie Blair

  Need surged through Jamie, and she turned Sheryl her toward her. “Before you put that on, how about a real kiss?”

  Where was the spark she used to see in Sheryl’s eyes just before she kissed her? Jamie wasn’t sure where to put her hands. A total stranger had stepped eagerly into her arms last night. She felt the tension in Sheryl’s shoulders and heard the unspoken words—don’t wrinkle my blouse, don’t muss my hair, don’t smudge my makeup.

  She entwined their fingers. “I love you,” she whispered as she tried to show Sheryl how much.

  *

  Jamie was hoisting herself out of the pool when her phone rang. “What’s up, Don?”

  “I hate to bother you, Jamie, but Charlotte Burns threw her back out again. I went in last night, but she says it’s worse today and insists you’re the only one who can get it right.”

  Jamie wanted to throttle the woman who thought her VP job title gave her the right to be demanding. She was overweight, didn’t exercise, sat too many hours at a desk, and then wondered why her lower back was a disaster.

  “I didn’t guarantee her I could get ahold of you, but I thought you should make that decision.”

  “Give me her number.” Jamie gouged the number onto a sticky note.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. And Don…Charlotte’s difficult even for me.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jamie stared at her phone for a long time before making the call. Her reprieve from responsibility was over. She rubbed the knots in her neck as another text came through from Penni. “Forgiven yet?”

  She sighed and texted back, “Yes. Gonna cost you. Will call later.” Half her life. Nothing could break a friendship like that.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jamie’s SUV was the only car in the parking lot when Carla pulled in. She marched to the back door before her resolve failed. In a weekend of roller-coaster emotions, she kept coming back to one truth—she refused to walk out on Jamie again. She intended to fight for her job.

  A burst of longing shot through her as she clasped the doorknob to Jamie’s office. Her friends would be shocked if they knew that behind her reputed emotional calm and level-headedness was a woman who wanted to storm into her boss’s office, pull her into her arms, and kiss her senseless. When Jamie didn’t answer the knock she peeked in.

  Jamie was standing in front of the window, her back to Carla, the phone against her ear, and a sheet of paper crumpled in her fist. “You can’t just cut off my preferred-provider status.” The tone was part anger, part fear. “I never got the first notice. I know I can appeal, but I was only recently made aware of the problem. I’m trying to find out what…Fine, you’ll be hearing from my attorney.” Jamie’s arms fell to her sides. She stood rigidly still.

  “I couldn’t help but overhear. How can I help?” When Jamie turned around, her eyes were flat with anger. Carla ached to rub away the frown that hooded them.

  Jamie dropped heavily into her chair. “I can take care—”

  “I’m your office manager.”

  Jamie smoothed out the paper and slid it across the desk.

  Carla read it. “What’s this about a previous notice?”

  “Must have come when Marjorie was still here. If they revoke my preferred-provider status—”

  “Patients will have a higher co-pay,” Carla said. “It’s one of the smaller companies we bill. Not as many patients will be affected.”

  “I’ll have to explain why.” Defeat replaced the anger in Jamie’s voice.

  “Let me see what I can do.”

  “I should call my attorney.” Jamie’s gaze went to the pictures on the corner of her desk.

  “Give me a day.” Carla closed the door behind her and marched to her office. If she ever got her hands on Marjorie she’d strangle that woman. She tossed her purse and sweater on the desk and picked up the phone. She wasn’t leaving this office until she fixed this problem.

  *

  Jamie leaned back in her chair and rubbed the back of her neck. An army of hands couldn’t loosen the knots. Carla evidently wasn’t going to quit and she hadn’t brought up Saturday. Good. Maybe they could just pretend it hadn’t happened.

  Now on to the next problem. She called Sheryl. “The dealership says it’s an electrical problem. They’ll have it fixed tomorrow. If you can get someone to drive you over there, they’ll give you a loaner.”

  “Why can’t you take me?”

  “I’m dealing with a serious problem. I got a letter from an insurance company threatening to revoke my preferred-provider status.” She wanted Sheryl to ask if she could do anything to help. Support went both ways. “It’s a big deal, Sheryl.”

  “Well, I hope it works out.” Sheryl said something to someone about arranging a parent conference. “Can you pick me up after work and take me? I don’t have a meeting tonight. Maybe we could get dinner.”

  “I won’t be done till after six.”

  “But—”

  “I gotta go. See you tonight.” As Jamie got out of the chair, her elbow bumped a stack of patient files and they toppled to the floor. What was she thinking? She hadn’t gone through files since Friday. She needed to deal with her business problems. Hadn’t the letter made that clear? She forced back anger as she restacked the files. Gripping the doorknob she took deep breaths until everything faded but the responsibility in front of her. She was a chiropractor. She took care of people.

  *

  Carla hung up the phone and jumped from her chair, anxious to share the good news with Jamie as soon as she finished with her last patient. Was it her imagination or had Jamie been avoiding her all day? She hadn’t been fired, but Jamie hadn’t said anything about Saturday. Should she bring it up?

  Jamie’s voice captured her attention as she walked her patient to the front. Just her voice… Carla sighed as she endured another rebellion from her body.

  Jamie looked tired, but this morning’s tightness was gone from her face as she set the file on the front counter. “I’ll see you next month, Renee. Thanks for referring the two new patients.”

  “I’m happy to refer people, Jamie, because I know you’ll take care of them. I’m glad to see your office in such good hands,” she said to Carla. “I knew you two would be a good fit.”

  Jamie’s cheeks reddened and she wouldn’t meet Carla’s eyes. She disappeared into Carla’s office.

  “How would you like some good news?” Carla asked after locking the front door behind Renee.

  “It would make my day.” Jamie looked up from pulling files and rubbed the back of her neck. “Maybe my month.”

  “I got the insurance company to postpone further action against you for thirty days. By then we should have it sorted out.”

  “How did you manage that?” Jamie looked confused.

  “A little Southern charm,” Carla said, adding a thick accent. She gulped when Jamie’s eyes sparked. “A little letting them think I was your attorney and we were serious about legal action.”

  “You impersonated my attorney?” The confusion changed to a look of surprise.

  Carla shrugged. “I didn’t discourage the assumption.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Carla.”

  “It was my pleasure.” Carla’s throat tightened with everything she couldn’t say.

  “About Saturday,” Jamie said, shifting her weight. “We should probably talk about it. Get it out in the open…” She cleared her throat.

  “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.” Carla looked away from Jamie. She couldn’t say this next part if she had to look at everything she wanted and couldn’t have. “I meant I want a second chance at a friendship with you.” Carla blinked back tears and set a smile on her face. Jamie’s expression changed but she couldn’t read it. Relief?

  “Um, that sounds good…friendship. I’m sorry I left so abruptly…before you could explain. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jamie gathered the files and squeezed past Carla in the doo
rway. Their eyes met for an instant and the gratitude in them was unmistakable.

  Carla clasped her hands behind her back to keep from reaching for Jamie. Would a quick hug be wrong? A sharp pain went through her heart as Jamie walked away. She’d done the right thing, the only thing. Fatigue from the long sleepless weekend washed over her. A hot bath, leftover lasagna, and a glass of wine would help. She’d have to settle for being part of Jamie’s work life. How could fate be so cruel?

  *

  Jamie set her keys on the kitchen counter and opened the refrigerator. “Hey, Sheryl?” she hollered toward the back of the house. “Didn’t you pick up something for dinner?”

  “Sorry,” Sheryl said, walking into the kitchen. “My secretary took me over to the dealer so I could get the loaner, and I took her to dinner as a thank you. She’s single, and works hard for me. Never hurts to build loyalty in your employees.”

  Jamie bent over, hands on her thighs as the refrigerator door slowly closed. She took her secretary out to dinner and didn’t bring anything home for her. “I’m going out.” She picked up her keys and stormed from the kitchen. When had Sheryl become so clueless? Or was it careless?

  *

  Jamie nursed a beer as she watched the A’s get trounced on the big screen on the wall of the sports bar. The pepperoni pizza had soothed the hunger but now sat heavily in her stomach. So did her mood. How could she get Sheryl to put their relationship first?

  At least she hadn’t given Carla her “I don’t cheat” speech. She’d misunderstood, and how embarrassing would that have been? She wouldn’t have to find a new office manager, and Carla had solved the problem with the insurance company in one day. It was about time she got a break.

  Televisions filled the walls, and any direction she looked someone was winning and someone was losing. Which side was she on? In softball it was easy to make that call. Where was the scoreboard that told her where she was in life right now? It felt like she was losing, but she had no idea what skills she lacked.

  Watching baseball always made her want to be on a diamond, grass under her feet, the sound of bats connecting with balls. She pulled out her cell phone and called Penni.

  “What’s up, girlfriend?” Penni asked.

  “When’s your Bobby Sox practice this weekend?”

  “Who is this, and what have you done with Jamie?”

  “Funny.” Jamie finally had to smile.

  “Saturday. Ten o’clock.”

  “Damn.” If she went in an hour earlier, moved those scheduled between ten and twelve to later, she could sneak out for practice and then go back. It could work. “I’ll be there,” she said as the restaurant broke into cheers. The A’s had just hit a home run.

  “Where are you?”

  “Sports bar. Felt like pizza.”

  “More like you got home and no dinner was waiting for you. Why do you—”

  “Don’t start.” She raised her arm in salute as the batter crossed home plate.

  “Oh, all right. I’m too happy to argue with you. See you Saturday.”

  Jamie stayed until the game was over. The A’s rallied to win. Never give up hope. She packed the leftover slices in a box for lunch tomorrow. Couldn’t she have a business and still have time for fun? There had to be some middle ground.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mike held the door for Carla as they walked into La Foret, the elegant French restaurant they loved. They were going to start their last weekend together with a celebration of their marriage. Mike looked handsome, as always, in his gray suit with the royal-blue shirt. She took his arm as they were led through the dimly lit restaurant to a table set with white dishes on a white tablecloth.

  They hadn’t talked much during the fifteen-minute drive to the restaurant. Carla didn’t know what Mike was thinking about, but she was remembering the day last fall that had led them to this dinner. She’d come home to find Mike crying on their bed. Afraid he’d been diagnosed with a serious illness, she’d held him. He finally composed himself and admitted he was attracted to a manager of another department.

  Carla’s shock had been diffused when he said the manager was a guy, and she’d felt oddly relieved when he confessed he was afraid he was gay. Their mutual homosexuality explained so much about their relationship—as close as two people could be but lacking the sexual spark Carla had assumed only she missed. They’d talked late into the night, and his honesty had prompted her to confess her doubts about her own sexual preference. They’d fallen asleep early in the morning after tears turned to peals of laughter at the irony of their situation. Many more conversations led them to agree that honesty and self-respect were more important than appearances. In three months their divorce would be final.

  Mike took Carla’s hand as the waiter poured champagne. “To the love of my life.” He slid a small black box across the table.

  “Are you celebrating your anniversary?” the young man asked brightly.

  “No, our divorce,” Mike said. Their eyes met a second before they burst out laughing.

  Carla opened the box. “Oh, Mike, it’s beautiful.”

  He fastened the gold watch around her wrist. “For all the good times.” He leaned over and kissed her.

  They chatted and shared memories as they worked their way through one wonderful course after another. While waiting for dessert, Carla noticed the couple being seated in the far corner of the small room. “I can’t believe it,” she whispered. A blond, slightly pudgy thirty-something man was pulling a chair out for the principal she’d done battle with last year.

  “Don’t let her spoil the evening.”

  “I feel sorry for that poor guy.” When Sheryl glanced her way, the look of surprise that turned sour made Carla laugh. The poor schmuck, her husband, she assumed, was undoubtedly about to get an earful from the sharp-tongued principal.

  *

  Friday night’s celebration gave way to the thankless grunt work of moving. Rob, the guy Mike had met during a 10k a few months ago and was now dating, had gamely agreed to help. As the day wore on she was both grateful for his help and increasingly fond of the man who might replace her in Mike’s life. Would she find someone who put that look on her face? She still hadn’t worked up the courage to call Vanessa. In spite of Mike’s encouragement, dating scared her. But she’d joined a book club and a running club. Meeting lesbians she might become friends with seemed like the place to start.

  By the time they called it quits for the day, Carla was tired and her back hurt. Declining Mike’s offer to join them for pizza, she opted for a glass of wine and a hot bath. She woke stiff and tried to soothe her back into cooperating with another long soak in her Jacuzzi tub.

  She might have gotten away with just soreness if it hadn’t been for the fifty-inch plasma TV she and Mike moved at the end of the day. Mike lost his grip going up the steps to the front door, and Carla lurched sideways to keep it from falling against the doorframe. Something popped in her lower back, and she gritted her teeth against the pain until the TV was safely in place. Then she slumped to her knees and clutched her back.

  “Carla? What’s wrong?”

  Carla tried to stand but couldn’t as muscle spasms grabbed her with a ferocity she couldn’t have imagined. “My back. Ow. God, that hurts. I can’t get up.” Mike put his arm around her waist and helped her to the couch.

  “I’m sorry, honey.” Mike rubbed her lower back. “I knew we should have waited for Rob. Do you want some Advil?”

  Carla tried to stand, but biting pain dropped her to the couch again. “You won’t find it in all these boxes. I’ll take some at home.” Mike supported most of her weight as she shuffled out to the truck he’d borrowed for the move.

  “Maybe we should take you to emergency,” Mike said after they’d repeated the maneuver to get Carla into the house.

  She gripped the kitchen counter for support but kept her voice light. “I’m sure it’ll be fine with some Advil and a night’s sleep.” She’d never had more than a min
or backache from too much gardening and was scared, but she didn’t want Mike to know. He’d offer to stay.

  “Why don’t we call Jamie?”

  “I’m not bothering her on a Sunday.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll be fine. You have a date. Don’t forget the bag of peanut-butter cookies.”

  “With crunchy peanut butter?”

  Carla laughed at the little-kid face he always made over cookies and regretted it as her back seized up. What did Jamie tell patients to do? “Can you get the ice pack for me?”

  “Promise you’ll call if it gets worse,” Mike said after he helped her to the couch. “It feels weird saying good night and then leaving.”

  “We’re still the best friends we were always meant to be.” Now that the moment was here, letting go was so much harder than she’d expected. He knelt in front of her and they held each other for a long time.

  An hour later she was able to get up, albeit slowly. She stood at her kitchen counter and ate salami and cheese and French bread for dinner. A hot bath sounded heavenly but she didn’t think she could get in the tub, so she settled for another dose of Advil. She got into bed, stuffed pillows behind her, and opened one of the lesbian fiction books that arrived yesterday. She smiled at the cover—two women holding hands, looking longingly into each other’s eyes. She wanted that.

  Her eyes filled with tears, and she reached for a Kleenex on the nightstand as her back protested. Her first night in her new life and she was alone with a book. Would one night be all she ever knew of passion?

  Carla woke up at two A.M. needing to pee. It took her ten minutes to roll onto the floor and crawl to the bathroom. Getting onto the toilet was agony. Getting off was almost impossible. After swallowing more Advil she made it back to bed by grabbing onto every piece of furniture along the way. Tears ran down her cheeks as she tried to find a comfortable position. This wasn’t the new life she’d envisioned.