Just A Little Romance

by Mary Jane Russell

  “Exactly.”

  “Are you in the mood for strong coffee and French toast?”

  “I’ll gain twenty pounds dealing with this but, yes, I am.”

  Paul chuckled. “I’ll bring the fixings. Unlock the front door for me, so I don’t have to bother with keys.”

  “Deal.” Sam stood and stretched.

  “Five minutes.”

  “Paul, thank you.”

  “I love to cook breakfast.”

  “That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” Sam said. “And you’re not a waste as a man, as a certain heterosexual woman who shall remain nameless thinks.”

  “That just makes me want to sign us up for a dance class, so I can slap the bitch myself,” Paul said.

  “I think that’s above and beyond for either of us, but okay, if you really want to. I’ll go along just to watch.” Sam glanced at the Weather Channel. “Oh, crap.”

  “What?”

  “I’m supposed to be hiking in four hours.”

  “And what brilliant person set that up?” Paul asked, knowing the answer.

  “Love you, too.”

  “Back at you.” Paul disconnected.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Of all the stupid-ass things to be doing on a Saturday morning when I could be at home catching up on my sleep.” Sam grumbled to herself as she loaded the car. “But no, I have to make a first date that it wouldn’t look right to break at the last minute.” She grunted when she lifted a small backpack with an ice pack and two bottles of water, bug spray, suntan lotion, cell phone, and baseball cap. Sam wore cargo shorts and a tank top. Her sunglasses hung around her neck on a lanyard in case she tripped crossing the rocks. She used the blanket in the trunk to wedge the cooler so it wouldn’t turn over. She’d stop at Martin’s—even though she would always be loyal to the now defunct Ukrop’s—and pick up lunch for two on the way downtown.

  This was part of her problem with casual dating. She didn’t mind meeting new people, but on a day like today, she would just as soon stay home and hang out with Paul. She could have talked him into going out for a late lunch to pay him back for the excellent breakfast he cooked. They could have perused the bookstores or kept up a running commentary during a movie. Paul was so much easier.

  “My mother would call that being trifling.” Sam smiled at herself. Okay, maybe she was a little nervous about meeting this woman. There was always the off chance that they would click. Sam wondered if she was really ready to try a relationship again. She was convinced she never learned a damn thing from one woman to the next.

  “Well, I have to do something besides trade e-mails with TLCplease.” Sam shook her head. Her reclusive friend was resigned to letting Sam play the field for a while and come back to her since she was sure theirs was true love. “Puh-lease,” Sam said.

  She pictured the woman she was to meet today, curious that they hadn’t crossed paths. Sam did most of her business and necessity shopping in Chesterfield County; Lacy worked and lived on the opposite side of Richmond in the Mechanicsville area. “At least we’re in the same city.” From her posting on Match, Lacy Dunn was two years younger, not quite Sam’s size in weight or height, and liked to work out at the gym. “Well, there’s one reason we’ve never met.” As often as she had tried, Sam just couldn’t get into the gym culture—it was too 1980s. Paul thrived on his athletic club for exercise and networking to sell his books.

  Sam opened the garage door and peered outside—things were quiet at Ava’s and Haley’s. Ava had been picked up by her son for breakfast and their monthly visit. Haley had simply not ventured out yet. KD’s truck blocked their driveway.

  Sam shook her head. She tossed her newspaper in the backseat and headed out of the subdivision. Since it was Saturday, she was going directly to Route 60 and catch the parkway to downtown. Sam smiled. It was easy to tell people who had lived in Richmond for a while. Route 76, also named Powhite Parkway, was lovingly referred to by natives as Po White, as in the Sherwood Anderson novel; newcomers pronounced it Pow Hite. Thankfully, she had been in Richmond long enough to call it the former and snicker at the political correctness of the latter. She had also been in Richmond long enough to know and love the James River Park. There was a trail almost three miles long that skirted Belle Isle and Brown’s Island, beginning at Tredegar Street under the Lee Bridge and ending at the Manchester Bridge on her favorite Route 60. The sixty-five acres of dedicated park land contained a bicycle bridge over the James River, nature walks, open fields, dense woodlands, cliffs, a pond, and views of Hollywood Rapids, which were part of the seven miles of rapids making up the Fall Line. They could do a walk as simple as the mile along the old canal on the north bank of the James or follow the Floodwall walk and try rock climbing at the Manchester Wall. They were meeting at the parking lot at the Fourteenth Street Bridge to explore the Floodwall trail that connected to the Manchester Slave Trail.

  Sam refused to be ashamed of the heritage that was the basis of her love for Richmond—her mother’s family had sent seven brothers to fight for the Confederacy with two killed and the others wounded and imprisoned. She thought about it as she walked through Martin’s. Yes, there had been a bleak time in Virginia’s history when slavery contributed to the economy. No, she was not going to hang her head about it. It was all part of the times. Sam was just as proud of her father’s Quaker heritage that had seen many Virginia families pull up stakes and migrate west rather than be caught up in owning slaves or persecuted for not. There were always so many sides and versions of the past. Sometimes, Richmond went a little overboard in trying to compensate for its role as the second capital of the Confederate States of America.

  “Okay, leave the soapbox behind you. You know damn well you can’t spout off about history and have enough hot air left to hike.” Sam reprimanded herself as she rejoined traffic. “I just hope I don’t embarrass myself.” She rolled her eyes.

  Sam pulled into the last space in the parking lot closest to the trail access. “I hope you got here before me.” She glanced around, looking for a brown Jeep Liberty. “Well, I’m easy enough to recognize.” There were times when her height and red hair came in handy. She opened her trunk for her backpack.

  “What a great day for a hike!” The woman’s voice was loud and clipped.

  Sam hit her head on the lid of the trunk.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Sam looked up and blinked.

  Evidently, the photograph that Lacy had posted with her profile was a few years and a few pounds ago. Lacy was about four inches shorter than Sam and likely fifty pounds heavier. She wore men’s tailored shorts and T-shirt and dark, solid shoes.

  One thing dealing with the public every day had taught Sam was the ability to carry on a conversation and never miss a beat at anything. She smiled and extended her hand. “You must be Lacy. I’m Sam, short for Samantha, and not named for the television show about witches, though I wouldn’t have minded looking like Elizabeth Montgomery.”

  On the inside, Sam cautioned herself to stop talking. She tended to babble while shifting mental gears. She didn’t care about Lacy’s size; she just had to adjust her mind-set.

  A look of relief passed across Lacy’s face. “I wasn’t named Lacy sans an e for one of the detectives on the best cop show ever made, either, though I wouldn’t mind looking like Tyne Daly or Sharon Gless.”

  “I heard that.” Sam nodded in agreement. “Are we ready?”

  “You bet.” Lacy wore a fanny pack that had a loop for a water bottle. “Thank goodness it isn’t as hot today or we’d have to walk inside at one of the malls.”

  “And now they’re starting to do those retro without all the enclosed common areas.” Sam locked her car and gestured for Lacy to lead the way. “My father had a theory about August weather that he swore by. The first frost of the fall follows the second cool spell in August by six weeks. His calculations were usually right. This is the second cool spell even if it is barely August.�
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  Lacy stood aside for another couple with dogs and children. “Your turn.” She motioned Sam to take the lead. Her face was already a bright red and her clothes soaked.

  “His father was a farmer,” Sam explained. “You know I’d be just as happy to sit at an outdoor café and sip iced tea while we chat.”

  “No, no. I want to get back into walking and hiking. I can tell you like to exercise. I did, too, until I had knee problems several years ago.” Lacy’s words were choppy between intakes of breath.

  “I wouldn’t say like. It’s just that some form of exercise generally makes me feel better.” Sam glanced over her shoulder. “Your knee is better now?” Sam was worried.

  “For the most part. The one that had surgery, anyway.” Lacy stopped at the stairs that made the change in elevation easier. They weren’t far from the Manchester Bridge.

  “Let’s go back.” Sam turned.

  “No, my goal is to walk to the end of the trail. See, you’re a good influence on me already.”

  Sam would have to give Lacy credit for being dogged. She was attractive, too—short, curly hair, muscular body, and beautiful violet eyes that Sam could lose herself in for at least a month or two. Her skin was flawless. Sam felt encouraged. They were nearing the end of the trail.

  “Uh-oh. I shouldn’t have said anything. I jinxed myself.” Lacy stopped and bent over in the center of the gravel walk. She limped to the side of the trail and eased stiff-legged down to the ground. She looked up at Sam. “The meniscus in my knee just tore, big-time.” She touched her knee gently and spoke between gritted teeth as tears seeped from the corners of her eyes. “I feel pieces floating, and it’s locked. I won’t have EMTs putting on a show carrying me out of here.”

  Sam knelt beside her. “Damn it, you shouldn’t have pushed yourself on my account.” She placed her hand on Lacy’s shoulder.

  Tears ran down Lacy’s face. “I know I wasn’t what you expected. I had already disappointed you with my looks. I wasn’t going to be a quitter.”

  Sam locked gazes with Lacy. “That’s not true. You were different from what you led me to believe,” she said as gently as possible, “but it doesn’t matter.” She looked about. “You’re sure about getting out on your own?”

  Lacy nodded.

  Sam pulled her cell phone from her backpack, knowing she would never hear the end of this. “Paul, can you pick us up near the Manchester Bridge, you know where the cut-through is to the trail that the rock climbers use?” Sam listened, ignoring his wisecracks, as he agreed. “I may need some help. Lacy has hurt her knee.” Paul would like Lacy.

  They waited. Sam used the ice pack from her drinks to help keep the pain manageable. Lacy tried to downplay her discomfort, but Sam knew the knee hurt like hell and would become even worse walking to the car. Several couples stopped long enough to offer help.

  Sam heard a whistle and looked up to see Paul checking the path in both directions. She put her fingers in the corners of her mouth and whistled back. He jogged to meet them, no trace of humor on his face. He knelt beside Lacy and held out his hand. “Paul Selz, Sam’s faithful sidekick.”

  “Lacy. We all need one of those.”

  Sam looked at him and motioned toward the car.

  “Okay, let’s get you up,” Paul said.

  Sam and Paul stood on either side of Lacy and lifted her with their legs.

  Lacy took a limping step. “I can make it with your help. Grab my belt. That’s the first thing we teach as physical therapists.”

  Sam and Paul each took an arm over their shoulders and grabbed her wide belt.

  “No wedgies, okay?” Lacy asked.

  They chuckled uncontrollably.

  Paul looked at Sam. “She’s okay.”

  “I think so, too,” Sam said.

  “I’m embarrassed as hell, but I appreciate your kindness.” Lacy’s face showed the toll of each step, but she persevered to the car—Paul drove a Subaru Outback. “I thought we were the only ones who drove these,” Lacy teased him.

  “It’s my version of cross-dressing. I just love a Subaru, this is my fourth,” Paul confessed.

  Lacy gave him a low five.

  “Johnston-Willis is close to where we live. Do you mind if we follow Route 60 and go to their ER? It will make it easier shuffling vehicles,” Sam explained.

  “That’s fine. I’ve been there before,” Lacy said.

  Lacy stretched her leg out on the backseat. Paul quickly drove them through moderate traffic and pulled up at the ER entrance fifteen minutes later. “Want me to wait?”

  “I can manage if you guys just want to drop me off.” Lacy made the offer genuinely.

  “Absolutely not. I stay with the one I start out with.” Sam held the door open for her. She took Lacy’s arm and shifted the weight off of Lacy’s right leg. Sam looked at Paul. “Why don’t you go home? I’ll call when we can go back for vehicles, if you don’t mind. Can you check with Haley about helping, too?”

  Paul gave Sam a quick salute and drove away.

  They walked into the ER and stared at the crowd.

  “Sorry,” Lacy said.

  “Don’t even go there.” Sam looked for empty chairs with floor space. They made themselves as comfortable as possible on the lightweight plastic seats. Luckily, Lacy had her complete wallet in her fanny pack, including her medical cards. She filled in the forms and chatted up the nurses.

  Sam thought about Haley.

  “You’re a million miles away,” Lacy said. “Not too late for you to bail.”

  “Sorry. I was here not too long ago with a friend who’s going through a bad time,” Sam said.

  Thirty minutes later, a nurse came through the double doors with a wheelchair. “Dunn?”

  Sam looked up, instantly recognizing the spiked blond hair with dark roots and glittering diamond earrings. “Oh, boy.”

  Lisa looked their way when Lacy raised her hand. She frowned. “Not you again. What did you do to this one?” Lisa brought the chair over and settled Lacy into the seat.

  “Not a damn thing, nor to either of the other ones.” Sam felt her temper rising. “The last one you saw me with was a high school fantasy I should have left alone. Nothing more than what you witnessed happened. Why am I trying to explain this to you?” She glanced at Lacy and shrugged. “Sorry, I’ll tell you about it later.”

  “I don’t want you in the back. For that matter, I don’t want you anywhere. Are you two related?” Lisa asked.

  “No.” Sam snapped the word.

  “Keep your seat and wait here.” Lisa stared until Sam sat down.

  Lacy stared from one woman to the other. “I’m fine. You’ve done all you can. I had the same problem with the other knee two years ago. At the least, they’ll x-ray it, maybe an MRI. I don’t think you need to be here.” Lacy emphasized her wishes, catching Sam’s eye.

  Sam looked at Lisa as she spoke to Lacy. “We’ll park your car outside. I’ll bring the key in to you. If you can’t drive, we’ll take you home.”

  “I’ve driven with one foot before. It’s no problem. It was good to meet you,” Lacy said, watching Lisa’s growing impatience.

  “Sorry I can’t say the same.” Lisa couldn’t let her go without the last word.

  Sam knew she was being dismissed by both women. Now she felt the fool. She walked out of the hospital, punching Paul’s number on the speed dial. “I’m such a numbskull to want a little romance in my life.”

  She paced as she waited for Paul and Haley.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Sam skulked about her house the rest of Saturday and most of Sunday. She didn’t want to hear commiserations from Paul and told him so when he called Saturday evening. Haley had made no comment and certainly inferred no I-told-you-so when helping with Lacy’s Jeep the day before. Ava had waved when they both ventured out for Sunday newspapers before six a.m. but left her alone. “Smart woman,” Sam said, thinking of Ava.

  The telephone rang. Sam glanced at the caller ID
and picked up. “Go ahead. Anything you have to say serves me right.”

  “Nah, that makes it too easy. Not that I want to interrupt your wallowing,” Paul said. “Did you notice yesterday that Haley was favoring her left side?”

  Sam closed her eyes and thought back to their brief conversation when she had joined them in Paul’s Subaru, then to even fewer words exchanged at the trail and hospital parking lots. They had driven in tandem to the hospital with Haley driving Lacy’s Jeep.

  “I had a little more time with her since we rode together after leaving you on your own at the hospital,” Paul said. Sam flinched. The hospital return visit had been as awkward as she feared. Lacy accepted her key as though she couldn’t wait to disinfect it. Lisa hovered, her body English daring Sam to linger too long. Sam had turned tail with as few words as possible to both women. “No, I didn’t notice it. I should have. My bad.”

  “Ease up on yourself, okay?” Paul said gently. “Keep an eye out for Haley is all I’m saying. I may have been reading too much into a shoulder she slept on the wrong way. I’ve been asking around about abusive relationships and cannot believe how many of our friends have experienced some derivation of one. Talk about bursting your bubble about finding the perfect soul mate.”

  Sam glanced out the double front windows toward the street. “I’ll watch for Haley. It will give me something productive to do as I pace and practice self-flagellation.”

  “Sam!”

  “Sorry.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay, I’m done with the pity party. I’ll keep an eye out for Haley.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  “Yours and no one else’s for the moment.”

  “Hey, I’m holding you to our deal—if and when we’re both single and fed up with dating at the same time, we get married for tax and survivorship benefits.” This was not the first time that Paul had brought this up.

  Sam chuckled. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Damn right. Why not? I’d rather you benefit from the likelihood of me dying first than the government.” Paul was sincere.