Dates And Other Nuts

by Lori Copeland

  “Yeah, hold on.”

  She waited another ten minutes, then got his attention again.

  “I’ve got to go—”

  “Hey, I’m with my friends here—”

  He’d had too much to drink and his tone was surly now. Clearly, he thought she was interfering with a good time.

  “Fine. I’ll call a cab-”

  The conversation around the table stilled.

  “One more drink,” he said, his eyes trying to focus. The jukebox was so loud they had to shout to be heard.

  “I want to go home now.”

  “Hold your britches, Cupcake. Barkeep, one for the read!”

  Knowing that arguing with him would only create a bigger scene, Temple got up and edged her way from behind the table as the jukebox struck up “Kung Fu Fighting.” The men were so deep into their drinks they never saw her leave.

  As she exited the bar, Ricky had climbed up to the middle of the table, had stripped his shirt off and was pumping iron to the beat of the music. It’s your own fault, Cupcake. Once again you should have listened to your intuition, Temple reminded herself as she trudged to a nearby all-night convenience store.

  “Where’s the phone?” she asked the clerk.

  Eyeing her stained blouse, he pointed to the corner.

  She’d call a cab, go home and forget this ever happened, she decided. But when she opened her purse, her spirits sank. She’d left her money at home. All she had was some wet change—mad money, Grams called it. A couple of quarters for a pay phone in case she got in trouble.

  With grim resignation, she pushed one of the quarters into the pay phone and dialed...

  A sleepy voice answered on the third ring.

  “Stevens.”

  “Craig, it’s Temple.”

  “Temple?” Craig’s tone changed. “What’s the matter.”

  She closed her eyes against tears. “I need you to come get me.”

  Wide-awake now, he sat up in bed, frowning at the clock. It was 2:00 a.m.

  “Where are you?”

  “I—I don’t know where I am. Just a minute.”

  He could hear her talking to someone in a muffled tone.

  “I’m at a convenience store at Third and Helm.”

  His mind worked quickly. Third and Elm. “What in the hell are you doing out there at a convenience store at this hour of the night?”

  “Do you honesty need to ask?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. Just come and get me.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  Craig jerked on his jeans and jammed his feet into tennis shoes at the same time. He grabbed a shirt and pulled it on over his head with one hand while jamming keys and change into his pockets with the other.

  The drive should have taken thirty minutes but he made it in eighteen. The Lincoln skidded to a stop at the curb and he jumped out before it stopped rocking.

  Temple stood just inside the door of the store, her face white and anxious. She stepped outside when she saw him. Their eyes met, and she shrugged.

  “What’s going on?”

  Brushing past him, she got into the front seat of the Lincoln and slammed the door.

  Craig got in the driver’s side and looked over at her worriedly.

  “I’m...okay,” she said. “Please, just take me home and don’t ask questions.”

  He pulled way from the curb and drove down the street. The blue and red lights of police cars flashed brightly as he passed Spanky’s Bar. She sank lower in the seat as a primal voice shouted, “CUPCAKE! WHERE ARE YOU?”

  Glancing at her, Craig said dryly. “Someone you know?”

  “My date.”

  “Figures.”

  When they reached her apartment, he pulled over to the curb and left the engine running.

  “Want to talk about it now?” He reached over to remove a broken paper drink umbrella from the crown of her head.

  She couldn’t look at him. She felt humiliated at having gotten into the situation and even more so for having to call him to come get her. But he’d come to her rescue without question. He deserved an explanation at the very least.

  “Becky talked me into going out with her cousin.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “We had dinner, he wanted to go somewhere to talk, I didn’t but I went anyway, he’d had too much to drink, I lost patience with him, slipped out and called you.”

  Craig observed the bits of maraschino cherries and limes staining her blouse. “Where did you eat? At a Carmen Miranda convention?”

  “No, Antonio’s. A waitress dumped a tray of glasses on me.”

  “Who is this guy that subjected you to this?”

  “Ricky Lawrence.”

  “The football player?”

  “Lord. You know him, too?” She closed her eyes for a moment, too weary to think.

  “Hey, mind if I get some sleep myself?” he said softly.

  Temple blinked, realizing that she’d dozed off. The dashboard clock indicated it was after three in the morning. It was going to be a short night.

  “I’m sorry. Thanks for coming,” she said, opening the door.

  “I’ll walk you up.”

  “You don’t have—”

  “I’ll walk you up,” he repeated, getting out of the car.

  They rode up in the elevator in silence. At her door, he took the key, opened the door and stepped inside, flicking on the light.

  “Need anything?” he asked.

  “No, thanks. I just want to take a shower and go to bed. Thanks, again.”

  “Hey,” he said softly. “You know me. I’m the Lone Ranger, Superman and Zorro all rolled into one. Anytime you need me, I’m here.” His gaze swept over her disheveled appearance again. “Just don’t do something this stupid again. Okay?”

  “I’m a big girl,” she whispered.

  “I worry about you.”

  “Thanks—I worry about you, too,” she said as he left.

  Closing the door, she leaned against it. A moment later, the doorbell rang.

  Opening the door, she found Craig standing there. He handed her the broken drink umbrella, leaned over and kissed her good-night.

  Looping her arms around his neck, she returned the kiss, drowning in love.

  “See you in the morning,” he whispered against her mouth.

  She closed the door, and peeled off her clothes, leaving a trail of sticky, beer-and-fruit-stained clothing on her way to the shower.

  “TEMPLE! You look fabulous!”

  Temple opened the door Friday to find Nancy standing there, looking smashing. The years hadn’t changed her a bit. Tanned, trim, athletic and beautiful.

  “Nancy! Look at you!”

  “I know you invited me to stay here with you,” Nancy said, brushing past her and dropping her purse on the couch, “but I got a hotel room. I didn’t know what your schedule was and I didn’t want to be in your way.”

  “In my way? Silly! I would have loved having you here.” The two women hugged.

  “It’s been so long!” Nancy said.

  “Hasn’t it?”

  Greetings dispensed with, they walked arm in arm to the balcony for coffee.

  “It would have been like old times, sitting up and talking half the night,” Nancy allowed, “but I’ve got a little business to take care of and I’m not sure what my own schedule is.” She sat down and kicked off her shoes. “I’m beat. Had a hard day yesterday and caught a plane early this morning. I don’t know why we do it.”

  “Because we love it,” they said in unison.

  It was an old line they’d used while in flight school to help break the tension of studying.

  “Well, tell me what’s going on in your life,” Nancy said.

  “Not much, just flying and getting ready to fly.” Temple poured them each a cup of coffee.

  They chatted for a while, and then Nancy asked the inevitable question.

  “How’s Craig? Still as handsome as ever?”

  “S
till as handsome as ever,” Temple said, feeling a twinge of guilt. Still as handsome as ever.

  Suddenly, a thought hit her. Nancy always asked about Craig, but as far as she knew, they hadn’t seen each other since he’d left Virginia. What would happen if she put them together again? Innocently, of course. But she could, easily.

  Burney, you’re treading on dangerous ground.

  True, but what if I got them together? See if there’s still a spark there?

  The possibility that there was, hurt, but she wanted to know—no, she needed to know.

  No, she amended yet again, she had to know.

  “I DIDN’T KNOW The Mexican Hat was still open,” Nancy marveled as they entered the small café that evening. The building was designed like a hacienda, complete with patios and porches. The interior was dimly lit by candles and wrought-iron sconces in the walls.

  The structure looked about ready to fall down, but the food was outstanding. Nancy laughed. “I thought the place would be condemned by now.”

  “It should be, but the food’s too good.”

  The women were led to a booth and given a huge basket of tortilla chips and salsa. Perusing the menu, Nancy grinned.

  “Let’s pig out,” she said.

  “I’m game.”

  “I’m going for the enchiladas,” Nancy said, laying aside her menu. “Three of them, with refried beans and rice.”

  “Me, too,” Temple said, hoping she had a good supply of antacids at home.

  Sitting back in the booth, Nancy studied her. “Gee, Temple, you look great. I mean it.”

  “Thanks, Nance, you do, too.”

  “Any interesting men on the horizon?”

  Smiling, Temple shook her head.

  “Well, I have some new—Oh my Lord!” Nancy sat up straighter in the booth. “Is that—it is! There’s Craig!”

  Nancy stood up, trying to get his attention. Temple wished the ground would open up and swallow her. She had set the poor man up like a sheep going to slaughter.

  “Craig! Over here!” Nancy called. “Oh, my gosh,” she said under her breath. “I can’t believe it. I never dreamed I’d bump into him.”

  Temple would’ve believed it. She knew Craig ate here every Friday night. She couldn’t meet his eyes as he approached.

  “Nancy. This is a surprise.” Craig paused before the table, his eyes pinpointing Temple. “Temple.”

  “Fancy meeting you here,” Temple murmured. Reaching for a chip, she dunked it in salsa, unaware she had targeted the hot dish. Fire broke out in her mouth, and she fumbled for her water glass.

  Serves you right, ratfink. He’ll never forgive you for setting him up like this—unless it works out, in which case you’ll never forgive yourself.

  Craig was obviously uncomfortable with the situation, but Nancy was pleased as punch to see him.

  “I can’t believe it! Craig! It’s so good to see you,” Nancy gushed. “It’s been so long.”

  “Yes.” He smiled. “What? Five years.”

  Temple chanced a look. She could see the tightness forming around his mouth.

  “You’re probably meeting someone, but sit down for a minute, will you? I’ve kept up with you through Temple.” Nancy grinned, fawning over him.

  “Have you?” Pulling out a chair, he sat down.

  “Gosh, you look good,” Nancy said. Her eyes reflected her admiration. “How are you?”

  “Good. You?”

  “Wonderful.”

  Squeezing his arm, she gritted her teeth, speaking affectionately, “Actually, I’m so glad we bumped into each other.”

  Craig’s eyes moved to Temple. “Oh?”

  “Yes.” She leaned closer. “I wanted to apologize.”

  Surprise flickered in Craig’s eyes. “Apologize?” “Yes.” Turning to Temple, she said. “You knew how upset I was when Craig broke off the relationship.”

  Craig and Temple both looked uncomfortable now. Temple hoped Nancy wouldn’t make a scene. This was her second chance with Craig, possibly a new beginning, surely she wouldn’t spoil it.

  “What you don’t know, Temple, is how ghastly I behaved.”

  “Nancy, it’s none of my business,” Temple murmured.

  “Nancy,” Craig warned. “It’s not necessary to get into this—”

  “But I want to, Craig. Really.” Nancy’s eyes mirrored remorse. “I’ve felt so bad about what happened, but I knew you wanted no further contact with me, so I quit trying to call you. I don’t know why I did the stupid things I did ... maybe because I was hurt and angry, but that’s no excuse.”

  “Things?” Temple asked.

  “Things like...coating his apartment with Preparation H—”

  Temple’s gaze flicked to Craig.

  Nancy shrugged. “It seemed appropriate, considering what he’d done and how I felt.” She smiled. “But that didn’t ease my wounded ego, so I smashed bananas into the interior of his car... that helped some,” she admitted.

  “It was at least a hundred degrees in that car, Nancy!”

  “I know that, Craig, why do you think I smashed bananas in it? Revenge isn’t revenge unless it’s revenge, silly.”

  Temple didn’t know what to say, and Craig refused to look at her. She’d had no idea the breakup had been so ugly. Craig had never said a word.

  “I was so damn angry at you, Craig Stevens,” Nancy continued. “I, well, kept calling because I couldn’t let go. I know now that you were right, of course. The relationship would have never worked, and I’m grateful you had the foresight to recognize it.”

  Craig’s eyes met hers. “I hope you mean that, Nancy.”

  “I do, Craig, with all my heart. I would have told you sooner, but I didn’t think you wanted to see me—under any circumstances.”

  “But Nancy.” Temple looked puzzled. “You always ask about Craig—you’re still in love with him. I can hear it in your voice each time we talk.”

  Nancy laughed. “You’re probably right.” She glanced at Craig, smiling. “You really did a number on me, Flyboy. Fool that I am, I’ll always love you, in my own way, but I’ve moved on,” she said. “My life is so full I don’t have time to moon over love lost. I’m wiser now, Craig. Because you had the courage to do what you did, I finally grew up. I’m going out with a wonderful man, and we both hope it will eventually lead to marriage.”

  “But you keep asking about Craig in your letters,” Temple said.

  “Because I wanted to know that he was doing okay, silly!” Nancy turned back to Craig. “I’m happy, Craig. And a great deal of the credit goes to you. I wanted to make sure you were happy, too.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Temple managed to say, surprised by the turn of events.

  “Forgive me, Craig?”

  “You come near my car with bananas—”

  “I won’t, I promise.” She laughed, crossing her heart and giving the Girl Scout sign.

  Craig leaned over, and kissed Nancy lightly on the lips. When Nancy started to deepen the kiss, he pulled away, shaking his finger at her.

  Grinning, she shrugged. “A girl’s gotta try, hasn’t she?”

  Craig stood, pointing a finger at Temple. “You and I will talk later.”

  As he left the table, Nancy laughed with relief. “Thanks, pal.”

  Temple lifted her eyebrows. “For what?”

  “For setting this up.”

  “What makes you think—”

  “You never could be devious, Temple. Face it. Besides, I knew if I mentioned Craig’s name, you’d make sure we bumped into each other.”

  Temple reached for a chip. “I feel so used.”

  “Don’t. I needed to get that behind me, and I desperately wanted to tell him how much I appreciated what he did back then. He never told you what happened?”

  “Never. Not a word.” She only wished he had.

  “It figures,” Nancy said. “He’s too much of a gentleman to air his dirty laundry in public.”

  But I’m not pub
lic, Temple thought. I’m Temple, his best friend. He should have told me.

  “I honestly didn’t know how you felt about him,” Temple admitted.

  “I would have told you, but I was too embarrassed. He’s a great guy,” Nancy said. “I often wished things could have been different between us, but they weren’t and that’s okay. I was a spoiled brat, and he didn’t want to take on the project of raising me. He was right to break up the relationship. Better then than five years later.” She picked up her menu. “Gee, spilling one’s guts makes one ravenous. What shall we have for dessert that’s sinfully rich and definitely not on my diet.”

  Still reeling from what had just transpired, Temple stared at the menu without seeing it.

  Okay, Burney, your one remaining excuse for not falling for Craig is gone. Now what?

  12

  SETTING TWO soft drinks in front of Craig and Scotty, Ginny laughed. “Where’d you get the shiner?”

  Craig studied the purple strip turning green beneath his left eye in the mirror behind the lunch counter, frowning.

  “The ex from Virginia track you down?” Scotty popped the tab on a can of soda and poured it into his glass.

  “Actually, she did.” For years, he’d successfully avoided Nancy. Now Temple was avoiding him. “But I got the black eye from in-line skating.”

  “In-line skating?” Scotty laughed.

  “Celia’s into in-line skating.”

  “Celia being the tall, well-built, athletic blonde Pete set you up with?”

  “Well-built? I didn’t notice—maybe because I was flat on my back the two hours we spent together.”

  “Wow.” Ginny grinned evilly. “On your back?”

  “Sprawled, Ginny,” he said. “And it wasn’t a pretty sight. I told her I didn’t in-line skate, but she insisted anyone could in-line skate.”

  “I told her I couldn’t skate, period, but she told me to stop being so modest. ‘You look athletic, and you’ve got good coordination,’” he mocked in a lilting imitation of a feminine voice.

  “And you proved her wrong.”

  “Did I ever.” He touched his cheek gingerly, wincing. He recounted the incident to his friends.

  Sunday had been a beautiful day, he told them, and Celia was a beautiful woman. All long tanned legs stretching a mile from short white shorts, and a great smile. The park had been full of weekend sports enthusiasts.