All of Me

by Bell, Heatherly

  Big mistake. Unless the intent was to look like a Swiss Miss in a size-too-small top. That’s the last time you lie about being a size six.

  The tight, off-the-shoulder white top and black lace-up waist cincher pressed down on her like a vice, her body ready to bust out at any given moment. The red skirt was short, which would at least be a relief during the scorcher predicted today. The outfit was completed with a red scarf and fishnet stockings which were definitely not going on her legs. A girl had to have some pride.

  “You’re helping a friend,” she reminded herself in the mirror. She tiptoed out of her bedroom. If she timed things right, she could get out of the house before Jeff got a glimpse of her.

  No such luck, as she passed Jeff in the kitchen, drinking some of the milk she’d purchased. That same milk nearly came spewing out of his mouth. “Holy Swiss Miss. Wow.”

  “Stop staring. This can’t be a size six, or maybe it shrunk. This doesn’t fit,” she said as she pulled up on the top, glossing over the fact that she hadn’t worn a size six since high school.

  “Oh, it fits.” He grinned.

  Since he wore low slung jeans and a gray baseball team jersey, she got the message that he wasn’t on his way to work. “You’re not going to the festival, are you?”

  “I’m stopping by the hospital first, but I’ll be there later.” He folded his arms and leaned against the kitchen counter. “The whole town goes to the festival. You ought to remember.”

  “Right. See you there.” She didn’t like that gleam in his eyes. It told her maybe there was something else. Something she didn’t know. But damned if she was going to indulge him by asking.

  Ninety degrees at nine in the morning was never a good omen, but there it loomed displayed on the trip computer of her SUV. August in California. Anyone in their right mind would be in their air-conditioned home, or seeking AC elsewhere. The rest of them would be at the festival. Drinking.

  Burt the police chief would be out tonight, making sure everyone took advantage of the free rides he provided in the back of his cruiser.

  Wine tasting booths from the local vineyards were set up all around the center of town, prepared to sell out of chilled white wine and even some of the red stuff—Cabernet or whatever. There were booths with oil paintings from local artists and handmade leather boots and belts from the Williamson family. Balloons and cotton candy for the kids and lots of beer on tap for the few people who didn’t do wine. In the distance, a crew worked to set the stage for the bands that would play tonight. Brooke would be in the crowd somewhere. Ivey hadn’t seen much of her lately.

  When she reached the diner’s booth, Ivey waved her arm from her top to the bottom of the short skirt. Si wouldn’t even look at her. “Is this some kind of a joke?”

  “You look great.” Em was dressed in a matronly Renaissance gown, more of what Ivey had in mind. Em caught her eyeing her gown. “You don’t want to be in this. It’s too hot.”

  But then Ivey saw another sign—a sign which caused her to hitch her breath and break out in a sweat that had little to do with the weather. No. Ivey picked up the small sign, waving it at Em. “What—–exactly—is this?” The sign read Kisses from Swiss Miss - $1.00. All proceeds go to St. Vincent’s Home for Unwed Mothers.

  “Isn’t it wonderful? My niece does this every year. It’s for a good cause, and with you being a midwife, I knew you‘d want to help out,” Em said with a straight face.

  “This is why you thought I’d be perfect?”

  “Consider it a compliment, dear. We always get the prettiest and best endowed girl we can find. Like I said, my niece, Miss California, couldn’t come out this year.”

  Best endowed? “I don’t like this at all.” She was no beauty queen and her endowments would get far too much sun in this getup. “Can’t I help you serve the food?”

  “It’s a kiss on the cheek, for goodness’ sake. I’m not running a brothel,” Em said with a laugh.

  If that were true, why did Ivey feel dressed to work in one?

  Before long, a line formed at their booth, and Ivey reluctantly settled in behind the counter.

  Sometimes an entire family came up to order, donating a dollar without collecting a kiss, but every now and again there was the random teenage boy standing in line. Ivey became nervous and self-conscious about her PG-13 rated clothing, and threw occasional pointed looks in Em’s direction. The boys were mostly perfect gentlemen as they turned their cheek for a kiss, and only later did she see them point in her direction, making her feel sixteen all over again.

  Adding to the feeling of being sixteen was noting Jeff in the line near the end of the day. Before long he’d somehow made his way to the front, skipping ahead of several customers with ease. Most of them seem to know and like him, calling him “Doc” and letting him cut in line.

  Jeff ordered Pirate’s Grog and a smoked-beef-brisket sandwich and paid Em. Then he handed Ivey a ten-dollar bill.

  “That’s very generous of you, but you can’t have ten kisses,” she said, taking the bill from his hand. “I think it’s against the rules.”

  “How about a ten dollar kiss then?” He grinned.

  Some of the men behind him whooped and laughed.

  “You can’t have that either.”

  “Be reasonable,” he said, pointing to his cheek and leaning in closer.

  People were beginning to stare at their exchange, including Em and Si. The bigger deal Ivey made out of a simple kiss, the more attention she would call to it. She’d have to play along even if the thought of kissing him made her knees feel like Jell-O on a hot day.

  “Fine,” she said, leaning forward. “A ten dollar kiss.”

  Her heart did a flip as she and Jeff drew closer than they’d been in years. She aimed for his cheek, but did not expect him to take her face in his hands as though he would be the one doing the kissing. Too late she saw him headed straight for her lips, but as their noses touched Ivey whispered, “Don’t.”

  Her tone must have been pleading enough, and his eyes gazed into hers with what seemed to be a quiet agreement and his lips turned toward her cheek. Ivey closed her eyes as his prickly chin touch her face, causing more shivers to run down her spine. He kissed her lightly on the cheek as one hand held the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair. His lips felt hot like a brand, and she prayed the soft moan hadn’t really come out of her throat. Time seemed to suspend and Ivey couldn’t stop herself from resting her hand on his shoulder. His very smell was too familiar, the memory of him far too intoxicating, until she forced herself to pull away.

  “There! A ten-dollar kiss.” She turned to find a small crowd staring, including Si, his jaw slack.

  Em slammed the Pirate’s Grog in front of Jeff, her lips a thin straight line. “No more ten-dollar kisses, Doc. Any more of that and the two of you need to get a room.”

  As dusk settled over the park and the band began to play, Ivey was issued a reprieve from her duties. After a moment to change into her well-worn jeans and tank top, Ivey headed out to the lawn with her blanket to find a good spot.

  Brooke was at the Serrano booth, serving up drinks with the same man who had spirited her away. The boss who had the hots for her.

  “About time you dropped by,” Brooke called out.

  “I’ve been busy helping at Em’s booth.”

  “So I heard. And saw the outfit.” Brooke grinned. “How’d you get roped into that?”

  “Don’t start with me. I didn’t know about the costume until it was too late.”

  “And knowing you, you weren’t going to bail on her at the last minute.”

  “Well, no.”

  “I’ll be working till we’re done here, but we’ll catch up later,” Brooke said.

  But Brooke seemed too caught up with the boss to want to spend any time with Ivey. And if it were really love, Ivey couldn’t blame her, except that from where she stood it looked more like lust than anything else. Brooke might well be the only woman who
could keep her heart from being involved, but even so Ivey had her doubts.

  She found an empty spot to spread her blanket out and wait for the band to play, as all around her couples sat wrapped in each other’s arms. Maybe if she sat here for a while, she wouldn’t be alone for long. But alone or not, she’d be okay. Keep telling yourself that.

  *****

  All right, so Jeff may have pushed a bit too far with the ten-dollar kiss. Only Ivey had the ability to turn him into a testosterone-driven horny adolescent. It hadn’t even been Ivey’s plea that stopped him from kissing her on the lips, but the sudden realization that he was about to set a precedent, and he sure as hell didn’t want anyone else paying for a ten dollar kiss.

  He stayed in the shadows, searching for Ivey. He spotted her sitting on a blanket, wearing jeans the way only she could wear them and a pink tank top that displayed the great rack that still headlined his fantasies. He wasn’t surprised to see she’d become a quick-change artist, but a little bit unnerved by how she still made his heart pound.

  Relationships weren’t like hitting the pause button and resuming again. Even though it felt that way at times—like no time at all passed. Like the whole separation had been a mistake.

  Was Ivey right about the fact that they couldn’t do this again? Did Ali make sense when she thought he ought to stay away? No matter what his head said, his heart seemed to have other ideas. He’d never let it lead before, but maybe it was time.

  Ivey’s long dark hair caught a glint of the moonlight, but there was a slight problem with the picture. Mr. Williamson’s boy Jimmy, who had to be all of eighteen-years-old, sat with her on the blanket. Jimmy had hopes of touching heaven too, and Jeff almost felt sorry for him as he prepared to dash those dreams.

  “Hey, Jimmy. So, your mom is calling you. Something about watching your sister while they pack up,” Jeff lied as he emerged from the shadows. Something told him that Mrs. Williamson wasn’t going to object to some help with her youngest, and Jimmy would only look like a good son thanks to him. No harm, no foul.

  Jimmy’s face fell as he rose from the blanket. Ah yes, so close and yet so far. Sorry, buddy.

  “See you later, Ivey. Don’t forget my band is playing tomorrow night.”

  “Okay, Jimmy, I’ll be sure to clap the loudest.”

  Jimmy smiled as though he’d won the lottery.

  Jeff sat down beside Ivey. “How dare you? He’s a child.”

  “What? I didn’t do any—” Ivey protested. “Oh. You’re teasing me.”

  “I’m sorry, but you make it easy sometimes.”

  “That was a mean thing to do today. Do you know how hard it was for me to stand there looking like the town wench while teenage boys ogled me?” Ivey slapped his shoulder.

  “I know how hard it was for me,” he said.

  “You and your ten-dollar kiss.” Her words scolded, but her eyes were smiling.

  “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  Ivey turned her head toward the music again, as the band broke out into Lionel Ritchie’s song Truly. Couples began to slow dance to the song. Jeff sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, and his gut pinched with envy. He was so tired of being alone, so weary of the temporary nature of every relationship he’d had since Ivey.

  “So what made you go online to find the perfect love match?”

  She turned to him, her posture suddenly defensive. “Why would you ask me that now? Don’t you believe me?”

  “Believe what?”

  “That I found someone online.”

  “Why wouldn’t I believe you? My question is why. Isn’t that supposed to be the move of the desperate?”

  Ivey fingered the threads of fringe on her blanket. “Leave it to you to make fun of people who need a little help in the love department. You probably never had any trouble getting a date.”

  “I didn’t think you would either.”

  “Shows you how much you know.”

  “All right, fine. I’m not judging you or anyone else who uses those services. It takes all the fun out of it. Doesn’t it?” Sure, he believed in planning, but even he realized you couldn’t plan who you fell in love with.

  He’d known that the first time he met Ivey, who’d nearly chopped off her finger in a high school Home Ec cooking class. He’d been the one tasked to take her to the office for first aid, which he’d administered himself when the health clerk had been otherwise occupied.

  “Don’t you know how to hold a knife?” He’d asked, his bedside manner at the time sadly lacking.

  “I guess not,” She’d answered as she smiled at him through watery eyes. “Thanks for helping me.”

  He’d looked at her, really seen her for the first time. He didn’t see Beth Lancaster’s daughter, the dyslexic girl who’d been placed in an at-risk group early on. He only saw Ivey, and something in his heart had pinched and constricted. He’d never been the same again.

  “As someone who plans, you should try online dating. You can pick the qualities you want in a mate.”

  He supposed that was a dig, but a person didn’t get an MD after their name without some preparation.

  “I’ll pass. But if I’d been able to pick from a list of qualities, I might have picked someone who could cook.” Unless it came out of a can or a box, Ivey would have starved to death.

  “Funny.”

  “Is that what you did? Looked at a list of qualifies you wanted and checked them off one by one?”

  She sighed. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

  Well if they weren’t going to talk, he had some other ideas of how to fill the time. He stood, taking his chances, and held out his hand. “Dance?”

  Ivey rose to meet him. “You want to dance? But you don’t know how. Have you learned?”

  “All right, you got me. Not really, but I want to hold you tight.”

  “At least you’re honest.” She didn’t resist when he took her in his arms right there on the blanket and pressed her against him. He held his hands near the small of her back, and her arms rose to his neck, as she gazed right into his eyes. He swallowed hard.

  He couldn’t still love her. Could he? Love didn’t stay in a suspended state of animation for years and then suddenly surge to the front. This was lust, pure and simple. He had it bad for Ivey. Always had.

  “Hey, do you remember when we used to listen to concerts here?” Ivey smiled up at him.

  He did. And if he didn’t stop thinking about that, he would soon be too hard to continue this slow dance of torture. “Yeah,” he managed to say. He’d forgotten his brain stopped working when she was this close.

  He ran a hand through her hair, the silkiness making his fingers feel like sandpaper. Ivey gazed up at him, but he couldn’t figure out if what he saw in her eyes was desire or plain confusion. Still, he took his opening and bent down and covered her mouth with his own. He tried not to groan as her mouth opened in welcome and he deepened the kiss. She tasted like vanilla and memories, the best ones—long summer nights by the river when the choice between her and Gray’s Anatomy had been a no-brainer. Funny how the pain she had caused him faded into the background now.

  He could feel her hands clinging to him like she used to when she’d been filled with need, but her fingers shook as they wrapped around his arms. “You’re trembling,” he said, stroking the curve of her face.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You do that to me.”

  “Yeah? Totally flattered.” It took him a minute to realize the song had ended and the rest of the crowd danced to a different one he didn’t even recognize.

  Still they stood holding each other like maybe they were trying to make up for lost time. He leaned his forehead against Ivey’s and heard her sigh. A warm summer night, the hint of honeysuckle in the air, Ivey in his arms at last. It was too perfect.

  Which is why it shouldn’t have surprised him when Ali walked up and almost wedged herself between them. “Hi, Ivey. Welcome back.”

&nb
sp; “Ali,” Ivey said, taking a step away from him.

  “So this is embarrassing. Looks like I might have interrupted something.” Ali glanced from Ivey to him, and pierced him with her Big Sister look.

  He and Ivey spoke at once.

  “You didn’t interrupt anything,” Ivey said.

  “Yes, you did.”

  “Mom and Dad are around here somewhere. Have you seen them?” Ali continued, despite his do-you-want-to-die stare. The look had worked when he was fourteen and she had made it her mission to make sure he stayed on the straight and narrow—otherwise known as tattling—but the glare wasn’t working for him now. He loved Ali, but he already had a mother.

  “Nope, but I’ll catch up with them later.”

  Ali turned to Ivey. “So what’s this I saw on the news about your aunt’s condo being repossessed? Wow, that’s some excitement, huh? We don’t get the FBI much in little ole Starlight Hill.”

  The unspoken message seemed to be: “leave it to you and your aunt to bring the FBI to town.” It took great effort to remember that his sister was only looking out for him, and that she didn’t want to see him hurt again. Without thinking, he reached for Ivey’s hand and squeezed it. “This all has to do with Ben Cartwright, and making restitution to his investors. It has nothing to do with Ivey or her aunt.”

  Someone or something slammed into his knees, and he looked down to see Becky. Bob followed behind her, holding a sleeping Liam.

  “Hey, squirt.”

  “Uncle Jeff! I saw a clown! He painted my face! And I have a balloon!” Becky babbled. The kid was so filled with excitement he half expected her to levitate.

  “She’s had too much sugar,” Ali said, by way of explanation he assumed.

  “Becky, this is my friend, Ivey.” Jeff introduced two of his favorite girls. Once Ali would have qualified too, except that right now he wanted to kill her.

  “Hi! I’m four! How old are you?” Becky asked, reminding him of a spinning top.

  “You don’t ask grown-ups how old they are,” Bob the Saint corrected with a sigh.

  But Jeff couldn’t help notice that Ivey smiled at Becky like she’d seen the sun set in gold, red, and orange. “That’s okay. I’m old, too old to count.”