by Kim Baldwin
“Are you sure you can manage everything all right?” she asked later when they pulled up in front of Gable’s. “I can stay if you want me to.”
An offer Gable nobly ignored. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “My back’s feeling a lot better.”
They got out and Erin hefted the bike out of the truck and wheeled it onto the porch, Gable falling into step beside her. “I want you to rest tomorrow. All day! No heavy lifting! And if you need anything, call me.”
“I will,” Gable promised.
“So do you think you’ll be able to go to the picnic Monday?”
“Oh sure. I’ll probably have to sit out some of the events, but I can certainly pitch in with the food and stuff.”
“I’d hate for you to miss it because you got hurt helping me out,” Erin said.
“Would you stop apologizing already?”
They were face-to-face on the porch, lingering outside the door, as if both were reluctant to part company.
“Well, I better let you get inside and get some sleep,” Erin said, taking a step to plant a quick peck on Gable’s cheek. “Sorry you hurt your back. Sleep well. And do call me if you need anything at all.”
Gable nodded, relishing the unexpected, brief caress of Erin’s lips and the way it had seemed to warm her from within. “Drive safe, and I’ll see you Monday.”
*
Despite her sleep deprivation of late, Gable still had trouble dozing off that night. She lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling. The massage had helped a lot, but her back was still bothering her and she couldn’t get comfortable. It didn't help any that she couldn't stop thinking about the way Erin touched her—delicate hands caressing her face, her stomach, her ass. Her imagination was fueled by the massage. Now she had intimate knowledge of how it felt to have Erin really touch her.
She managed to doze off finally at two a.m., and so was still asleep at nine when loud knocking at her front door awakened her. Erin! her hazy mind wished, still seduced by her dreams. Throwing on a robe, she stumbled to the door and threw the bolt.
Her brother Stewart stood there holding a cardboard tray with two large Styrofoam cups and a paper bag.
“Morning,” he said, grinning as he pushed by her and headed to the kitchen. “I brought bagels. Baked this morning. I know you can’t get them up here. And you look like shit, by the way.”
“What are you doing here, Stewart?”
“I’ve been trying to call you for a week, and you’re never home.” He sat at the table and took the bagels and cream cheese out of the bag. “I thought I might have acted a bit…well, insensitive when you called me.”
Gable got plates and knives and sat opposite him. “I check my machine every day. I haven’t had any messages from you.” Stewart passed her one of the coffees. “And I just got out of bed, how do you expect me to look?”
“Like you got some sleep. Which I seriously doubt from the look of those impressive bags under your eyes. And I never left a message. I wanted to talk to you.”
“What about? Has something happened?”
“That’s what I want to know. What’s happening with Erin?”
“You drove all the way up here to ask me that?”
“No. Yes. Well, I came up to see how you were doing. I hadn’t heard from you for a few days, and I knew you were having a hard time. Just wanted to see if you needed a shoulder to cry on or wanted to bend my ear for a while. I won’t make fun of your feelings this time, I promise.”
“That’s very sweet. But I can handle this.”
“So you say. Then why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Who said I’m not sleeping?”
He gave her a look she knew well, that told her he didn’t believe a word she was saying.
“All right. So it’s taking me a while to get okay with this. It’s gotten a little more complicated.” Gable sipped her coffee. “Erin is dating a guy at the fire station.”
Stewart gave her a sympathetic frown. “Sorry, honey. I know that must be tough, seeing her with somebody else.”
“Not just tough. Almost impossible.” She leaned back in her chair and ran her hand through her hair. “Tomorrow is the big picnic at the firehouse. I just know it’s going to be more of the same. Erin and Tim will both be there.” She let out a big sigh. “I keep thinking I should put some distance between us for a while. I just can’t seem to get over feeling the way I do when I’m around her so much. It’s only making it harder. Maybe with some time apart we can just be friends and I can handle that.”
“Have you got any time off coming? I can take a few days and we can go camping or kayaking or something.”
Gable shook her head. “I used it up when I went down to see you after the tornadoes. And I probably shouldn’t be doing anything too strenuous. I pulled a muscle in my back yesterday.” She stretched, testing it. Still sore, but better. “Getting away isn’t a bad idea, though. Maybe we can go somewhere next weekend?”
“Cool. Just let me know,” Stewart said. He leaned across the table and put his hand on her arm. “You just have to give it time, sis. And try to keep your mind occupied. That’s the best remedy I know.”
Stewart did his best to help her do just that until he left for home early that evening. They spent the day together, hanging out and watching TV, and he kept up an endless chatter about family and work in an effort to keep her mind distracted. None of it really helped much. Erin invaded her thoughts at every turn. Gable felt powerless to stop the constant flurry of images and sensations from the massage the night before: Erin’s fingers skimming along the edge of her breasts, the top of her ass. The way she looked in the soft amber glow of the candlelight.
Gable knew she had to try to bury her attraction for Erin if she was to ever keep her as a friend. But her mind and body simply refused to obey. Erin made her feel alive. How could she willingly give that up?
Chapter Eight
The Fourth of July picnic at the Plainfield Township Fire Station was one of the major community events of the summer, drawing in hundreds of locals from the surrounding area and a good number of holiday tourists. They came largely for the food—a massive outdoor barbecue of chicken and burgers and hot dogs, accompanied by several tables of salads, side dishes, and desserts, provided by the firefighters and their family and friends. There were also the usual family-style games—piñatas, a three-legged race, water balloon toss, tug-of-war—with blue ribbons and bragging rights going to the winners. The finale was a fireworks display, the biggest one for several miles around.
It was a fun day for all and a worthwhile event for the firehouse, which used the proceeds to purchase firefighting equipment, as well as smoke detectors for low-income and elderly residents.
The year before, Gable had been a brand-new rookie with the department, which had guaranteed that she’d be drafted for every event and introduced to half the surrounding populace. This year, she knew, it would be Erin’s turn.
The day started out pleasantly enough. Gable had originally been tapped to help set up the hose and ladder demonstrations that would later entertain the gathering, but the chief reassigned her to the food area when she confessed that she’d hurt her back. It just so happened that Erin was assigned there as well, so they worked side by side the first couple of hours, dishing out food and helping senior citizens and small children carry their plates to their tables.
She wasn’t crazy about the way that a few of the single guys looked at Erin as they went through the food line, but for the most part, she enjoyed watching her interact with the steady stream of visitors. She envied the way Erin could engage nearly anyone in easy conversation, especially the kids from her school.
“Lee, is that you?” Erin feigned wide-eyed wonder as she greeted a fair-haired young man of about eleven. “I hardly recognized you, you’ve shot up so much since school ended! If you don’t watch out, you’ll be taller than I am by September!”
The boy blushed, and Gable could see how delighted he was with
the comment. Bet you have a crush on her too. Who doesn’t?
“I can’t believe how big this event is,” Erin said, plopping down onto a folding chair beside Gable to catch her breath during a rare lull at the food tables. “I didn’t think there were this many people in the entire county.”
“The chief says it gets bigger every year. This time the proceeds are going toward a new pumper.”
“Well, I was hoping to get to spend some quality time with you today,” Erin said, looking right at Gable with such a sweet grin that her heart turned to mush. “But we’ve hardly had a chance to breathe, let alone get a chance to chat.”
“Should get easier now, since most everyone has eaten and the games will be starting soon. We’ll just get the stragglers and the teenaged boys who never seem to stop eating.” And who keep coming by for another look at you, Gable thought, admiring the way Erin’s tank top and denim shorts showed off vast expanses of smooth, inviting skin. Her eyes lingered on the hint of cleavage she could see. No one would ever guess you were thirty-nine.
And Erin’s appeal went far beyond her youthful face and figure. It was in the warm and familiar way she interacted with the people she met, extending an arm to steady a frail senior citizen, hugging one of the teachers she worked with in greeting. She’s much more physically demonstrative than I am.
Gable recalled Erin’s frequent hugs good-bye and last night’s peck on the cheek. I wonder what makes some people more touchy-feely than others. She certainly enjoyed being the recipient of Erin’s tactile hellos and good-byes, though each made her mourn their brevity.
“I still feel so bad that you hurt your back,” Erin said. “Frankly, I was counting on you to be my partner in the three-legged race. I thought we’d make a great team.”
The thought of being tied to Erin, their arms around each other, brought a flush to Gable’s cheeks. “My back really is feeling a lot better, but I probably should play it safe today.”
The chief silenced the gathering with an announcement on the bullhorn. “We’re ready to start the games, everyone. Pick a partner and line up for the wheelbarrow race!”
Gable turned to Erin, reconsidering her negative response, but before she had a chance to speak, Tim appeared with an outstretched hand.
“What do you say, Erin?” he said. “It’s tradition—the rookie has to be in every event.”
Erin glanced at Gable, who gloomily confirmed, “I had to do the whole lot last year.”
“Well, all right, then. I hate to break a time-honored tradition.” Erin allowed Tim to lead her away, with a backward glance at Gable that looked like genuine regret.
Nah. Couldn’t be.
Erin and Tim didn’t make it even halfway to the finish line. First they tried using Tim as the wheelbarrow, but Erin couldn’t support his weight for long so they switched positions, with only marginally better results. Though Erin had good upper-body strength, she kept collapsing in laughter, and they gave up after several efforts, along with a half dozen other laughing pairs of contestants.
Gable brooded from behind her sunglasses, oblivious to everything but the way Tim looked at Erin and the way that he was making her laugh.
Once the ribbons were handed out for the event, the chief announced that next up was the water balloon toss.
To Gable’s surprise, Erin trotted back to the food tables as pairs of combatants began lining up.
“C’mon, you can do this one with me,” she urged. “I think those Jell-o salads can watch themselves for a minute or two.”
Uncommonly pleased that Erin had ditched Tim for her, Gable followed her to the double row of paired contestants and they faced each other, grinning, a scant ten feet apart for the first toss. Gable was handed a filled red water balloon, slightly bigger than a softball, the elastic stretched taut.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Ready.”
Gable gently tossed the balloon underhand the few feet that separated them. Erin caught it without difficulty, as did all the other contestants on either side of them. They moved ten feet farther apart, and repeated the process, with Erin successfully tossing the red balloon back to Gable. Four other couples weren’t so lucky and were eliminated when their balloons broke.
Next they moved to twenty-five feet apart, a distance which eliminated more than a dozen other pairs of contestants. But Erin gently scooped the balloon into her outstretched arms, and they advanced to thirty feet.
“Great catch!” Gable encouraged, seeing there were only four other couples left.
Thirty feet looked incredibly far, but as they set up for the toss, Erin gave her a grin and a wink of reassurance. The balloon sailed through the air, and Gable cradled it like a baby, breaking its fall with her large hands, and suddenly they were one of only two pairs still in the contest. The other was a duet of tall teenaged boys Gable recognized. They were fraternal twins, and the stars of the local high school basketball team.
“Nice hands there, Gable,” Erin hollered. “We can do this!”
They moved another five feet apart, a seemingly impossible distance, and the crowd began to cheer on their favorites.
“Okay, Gable, put it right here.” Erin cupped her hands in front of her chest.
Gable was distracted by the cleavage displayed just above those wonderfully delicate hands, and perhaps that was the reason she tossed the balloon a tiny bit too hard. It burst with an impressive splash, dousing Erin’s tank top. Erin gasped in surprise at the cold soaking, failing to notice that her top was now clinging to her, outlining her breasts and her suddenly rigid nipples. Gable, on the other hand, couldn’t pry her eyes from the sight until Tim came up behind her and slapped her on the back.
“Aw. You almost had it there, you two. What a shame,” he commiserated.
Erin finally noticed that Tim and several of the other men standing around them were staring at her, and she glanced down and saw why. “Oh my.” She crossed her arms over her chest as color blossomed in her cheeks. “I think I better go and try to dry off some.”
“Here, take this,” Gable slipped off the long-sleeved denim shirt she had on over her T-shirt and offered it to her.
“You’re always saving me, aren’t you?” Erin said as she took the shirt with a smile and headed off toward the restrooms.
“Dang,” Tim whispered under his breath as they both watched Erin leave. He turned to Gable and grumped, “Spoilsport.”
Despite herself, Gable had to laugh.
Things went steadily downhill after that.
When Erin emerged from the firehouse wearing Gable’s shirt, she was immediately intercepted by Jerry DeYoung and led off toward the next event—the tug-of-war, which pitted the volunteer firefighters against men and women from the community they served.
Gable knew it was another event she’d better pass on, so she returned to the food tables to watch.
The thick rope was stretched over a muddy trench, six feet wide, which separated the two sides. Erin, as the rookie, was given the spot on the rope nearest the trench. If the firefighters lost, she’d be the first one to get filthy, just as Gable had been the year before.
It was a slightly closer contest this time, despite the fact that the townspeople had drafted the same two big bricklayers who routinely anchored their team to victory. It lasted a full three minutes before the firefighters began slipping slowly but surely ever closer to the mud pit. Erin dug in her heels all the way, the strain showing on her face, but when the inevitable happened and she was pulled into the quagmire, she took it with the same good humor with which she seemed to take everything.
After the tug-of-war came three events for the kids—the watermelon seed–spitting contest, the egg-in-spoon race, and the piñatas—one for the little kids, and one for the older ones. Gable was hoping that Erin might come over and watch with her, but she had obviously been corralled by the four men who were now crowded around her, vying for her attention—Tim Scott, Jerry DeYoung, and two others Gable didn’t recognize.
Every now and then, she glanced through the crowd in Gable's direction, but she seemed to be having fun if her smiles were anything to go by.
I should go home, Gable thought, her mood darkening further when a fifth admirer joined the group around Erin. She didn’t know his name, but she recognized the rather attractive fifty-ish bachelor as the proprietor of the Pine River Lumberyard, where she shopped on occasion. He’s got money, she thought, recalling the gossip when the village’s first Hummer had appeared on Main Street.
The chief announced it was time for the three-legged race, and Gable could see from a distance that Tim had somehow won the animated five-way discussion over who would get to be Erin’s partner.
They lined up side by side at the edge of the field near the food area. Gable had a perfect view. She felt a sudden twitch of jealously as she watched Tim curl his arm around Erin’s shoulder, and it grew into a gnawing ache in the pit of her gut when Erin’s hand snaked around Tim’s waist. She frowned, holding back tears that sprang from nowhere.
“On your mark…” the chief hollered through the bullhorn.
Erin looked directly at Gable.
“Get set…”
The smile on Erin’s face evaporated as she registered that Gable didn’t look quite right.
“Go!”
Erin stumbled briefly as Tim lurched their joined legs forward, but her attention snapped back to the race and they quickly joined the other competitors dashing toward the other end of the field. Couples tripped and fell, but Tim and Erin had a steady, smooth rhythm going that edged them just ahead of the others. The firefighters in the crowd roared approval as the couple lunged toward the finish line and collapsed in a laughing heap of arms and legs on the other side.
