Double Blind Date

<< Thanks. Hugs.

We had never hugged, but I planned to take care of that soon.

<< Hugs back. You're more than welcome.

On Tuesday, we decided to meet at Wendy's for a burger and fries before heading home for the evening.

"All good in your world?" he asked, taking a giant bite of his double.

I took a much more demure bite of my single. "Yeah, all good." I laughed.

"What's that about?" he questioned, lowering his eyes to peer at me.

"Mom called. She heard something on the news about social media; she couldn't remember which one, but she just wanted to be sure that I wasn't using any of that social media myself. I almost choked when she said that." I took another small nibble on my burger. "Those two are so funny," I continued, giggling. "When regular TV finally went all-digital, they grudgingly relented and got cable. They have a couple of hundred channels, but they only watch three of them, maybe four. I tried to show them all the things they were missing. I got head shakes, and a mumbled 'too complicated.'"

"Wow, that's hard to imagine these days. I'd love to meet them sometime."

"In time," I smiled. I was afraid they'd put him off so badly that it might rub off on me.

He took another huge bite of burger and stuffed two fries in his mouth as well.

"You'll choke," I cautioned, giggling.

A garbled sound like, "Naw, I'm good," came from his stuffed mouth.

I took hold of the locket and held it out to him. I don't think I'd ever seen a more giant smile on a human being. It warmed me more than I could imagine.

Another couple of bites and his sandwich was gone. I hoped his digestion was good as he certainly hadn't chewed it very well. Meanwhile, I nibbled my sandwich away, and finally, we were laughing and talking, double-dipping our fries and having a good time just being together. I was surprised at how comfortable I'd gotten with Will but was glad it had happened. I was twenty-five and, as I've mentioned before, ready for the next phase of my life, whatever that might be. Now, I was beginning to hope it included Will.

Fries finally gone and our straws making that slurping sound at the bottom of our empty drink containers, we decided to part. Will had a good deal of work he'd brought home with him, and I was getting near the end of "Lost," so our evenings were planned.

I was halfway through the first episode when my phone rang. "Unknown number," it told me—stupid crap calls.

Two episodes of "Lost" were completed, interrupted by three more junk calls, and it was time for bed. Only four more episodes before I was finished, and I knew I'd miss all the characters I'd enjoyed following.

That weekend we'd gotten together to tour the Ohio Historical Society building and check out all the exhibits there. It was fascinating, and I saw more of Ohio history than I knew existed. On Sunday, we toured the Art Gallery downtown. Lots of pictures and other items I didn't care for at all, but there were some interesting things. Being with Will made everything enjoyable.

He'd gotten that hug I'd promised myself I'd give him, plus several more very warm kisses. My body was beginning to tingle when we kissed, and I was curious about what that meant, though I was reasonably sure I knew, even if I wasn't quite ready to admit it.

Since neither of us was lugging work home the next Tuesday, we decided to get together for dinner, not a two-hundred-dollar plus dinner this time. I still could barely wrap my mind about what he'd spent for that dinner. He got to my place about seven-thirty and waited while I changed from my work clothes. They weren't dirty. It was just that I'd worn them all day and wanted something fresh.

"You go ahead to the car," he'd said. "I'll use your bathroom real quick." He tossed me his car keys.

I zipped down the stairs, out the door, and across the dark parking lot. Two of the big sodium vapor lights were out, and Will had parked in the dark area. As I was beside the car, I heard a voice.

"Hey, honey. What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"Doesn't matter who I am, but it looks like you're ripe for pickin'."

I struggled to see who it was, but he was dressed in dark colors, a dark knit hat pulled low, and it looked like he might have some sort of bandana around his mouth. I was instantly terrified.

"Who are you?" I asked frantically, ready to run before he could grab me.

"You here, Springer?" I heard Will's voice approaching.

"Will," I squealed, and he quickly stepped around me, between the shrouded man and myself.

"Who are you, little man?" Another snarl from the dark intruder.

Will backed up till he was touching me. "Get the hell going, man. You've got no business here."

"My business is standing right behind you, and I need to take care of that. She looks kind of delicious." The shadowed figure moved toward us.

Will lunged at him, swinging a fist. The shadow caught him, and they scuffled. I was looking for some way to help but was frustrated in those feeble efforts. They were wrestling when sudden Will lurched backward and was on the ground ... not moving.

I screamed as loud as I could and, almost instantly, lights on the building began flashing on.

"Shit," the unknown man spat, stepping toward me, then disappearing into the darkness.

I knelt over Will. "Stand up, Will. He's gone. You did it."

Will didn't move. As I heard feet running toward us, I saw the blood pooling under his head. He was lying against one of those concrete parking lot dividers.

"What's going on? Are you alright?" Three people were standing around us, eager to help.

"No, he's hurt. He's bleeding." I wailed as the tears began to flow.

"Call 9-1-1," a voice said as I lay against Will.

Soon there was a siren's wail.

"Pardon me, ma'am, could you move away just a little so I can see what's going in here." A uniform moved past me and to Will.

It was the hardest thing I'd ever done, to back away from Will. The man in the uniform asked me what had happened, and I told him, through the sobs and trembling racking my body.

"We'll take care of him," he assured me, smiling. It didn't help.

They backed the squad as close as possible, put Will on a stretcher, and loaded him inside.

"Going to Mt. Carmel East. Sorry you can't ride with us, but you can meet us there. Mt. Carmel East," he repeated.

As the siren screamed, I realized I had Will's keys. I thanked everyone for their help and jumped in his car, quickly following the squad as closely as possible. At the hospital, I found a parking spot and ran to the emergency room, but, of course, Will was already inside and out of sight. Surprisingly, there were only three or four people in the waiting room, none of whom looked like they were patients. I ran to the desk.

"They just brought someone in. I don't suppose you have any information yet." I'm sure I had a wild-eyed look on my face.

"No, I don't, honey, but you sit down right there," a very soothing voice said. "Do you have information about ...?"

"Him," I filled in. "Yes, a little. I know his name and address."

"I'll be right back," she said, patting my arm. She was gone for three or four minutes. Another smile when she returned. "It looks like he has a big cut on his head, and he's still unconscious. They'll run some tests and stitch him up, and then we'll know more. Boyfriend?"

"Yes," and I blurted out what had happened.

"Oh my! Thank goodness you're okay. And I'm sure he'll be okay too." She stopped and chewed her lip for a couple of seconds. "I think I'd better notify the police since you told me that. They'll want to talk to you."

I wasn't going to argue with her.

When she returned from checking one more time, a policeman was coming through the ER door.

"Tests look fine," she assured me. "And they put eighteen stitches in his head."

Despite the good news, I was crying again and clutching my locket as the policeman approached.

He asked questions, and I answered as best I could. I could tell he was disappointed that I didn't have a better description of the "perpetrator," as he called him. I just wasn't able to see him in the darkness. Finally, he closed his notebook.

"We can't be sure, but usually, they're just happy to get away when something like this happens, and they'll pick on someone else. That's not good, but we'll see what we can find out. I think you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Good luck to you and ..., " he opened the notebook, "Will."

"Thank you." He left, and I sat down, once more drying my eyes with the tissues the lady at the desk had given me. I looked up to see a man all in black with a white collar approaching me. My heart dropped to the floor, and the tears of terror began again. Only his big smile kept me from totally disintegrating.

"No, no," he said quickly. "I'm just a messenger, not a bearer of bad news. In fact, I have good news." He sat down beside me. "Your Will is awake, has a headache, and a big spot devoid of hair, which I'm sure he'll hate. Sometimes they send head injuries to the ICU for the first night, but his tests were so positive, they're just going to send him to a regular room." Sensing my desperation, I'm sure, he gave me a big hug. He laughed. "I think he's in better shape than you are. Want to say a prayer with me."

I joined him with a giggle. "I hope so," I added. "And yes, I'd like that very much."

He held my hands and said a beautiful prayer of thanks—more tears, of course.

"When they take him to his room, I'll come get you and take you there. I'm sure you both will be glad to see each other."

Another of those massive understatements.

Thirty minutes of pacing and tugging on the locket, intermingled with a few sobs, and the chaplain was back and led me to Will's room. He looked so peaceful lying there, his eyes closed, and the contrast with where he'd been not long ago started the tears again.

He opened his eyes and smiled. "Hi," he said simply.

I raced to the bed and put my head on his chest. "Never scare me like that again," I whispered.

As best he could, he put his arms around me and squeezed. I gave him a little kiss.

"Tell me what happened," he said. "Not sure I remember much."

I wanted to get a chair to sit down, but there was no way I would let go of him. So, I stood there and told him all that had happened, both before he'd gotten there and after he'd hit his head. Even in his slightly drugged condition, I could see the anger in his eyes.

I kissed him again. "Thank you. I'm fine. We're fine."

His eyes changed. "Waterford and Wedgewood. What else could I do?"

There was a word hovering on my tongue, longing to be released. It was how I felt about the wonderful redhead whose blue eyes were drinking me in, making my knees weak. Those eyes ... slowly ... closed. He was asleep. It would have to wait.

I checked with one of the nurses, and she assured me the lounger could be my bed for the night.

"Boyfriend?" she asked when she brought my blanket.

"Yes," I answered, looking at him longingly.

"You can take him home with you tomorrow, I'm sure." I got my second hug from the hospital staff.

What I wanted was to lift the covers of his bed and climb in beside him, hugging and comforting him all night. I sighed. In just a few weeks, I had come from cringing when a male touched me to being ready, even anxious, to spend the night in bed with one.

I did take Will home the next morning — home with me, to my apartment, at least for a while. Of course, he protested, saying he was fine and didn't need to be "mothered." That got him a smirk from me, and he apologized.

He did look a little odd with the swath of hair missing on the back of his head, the area filled in with a strip of some kind of special tape to cover the stitches.

He thanked me for taking care of him, even though I hadn't done much yet, and over and over told me how happy he was that nothing had happened to me. He promised to park closer to the building when he came to my apartment after this.

He also suggested that as terror-stricken as I had been about his injury, it probably did no more than match the way he saw what might be happening to me in the parking lot. All the talk multiplied our understanding of the way we felt about our relationship.

We needed to go to a pharmacy to get a prescription filled for an antibiotic the doctor wanted Will to take, just for insurance against infection in his cut. I found an old Ohio State hat of mine that he could wear to cover the bare spot.

At the pharmacy, we were almost to the door when I saw someone approaching from the other direction. Will stepped back to let her go first, but she stopped, looking practically frozen in place. Will glanced from me to her and then back to me, a baffled look on his face.

She was still tall, with dark hair, stunning, but her eyes were wide, going from mine to Will's and then back to mine. I gave an almost imperceptible head shake when her eyes met mine, and she seemed to relax a little.

"Will, this is Ami Lloyd. She's married to Zack's father." I hoped my voice wasn't trembling.

"Mrs. Lloyd, so glad to meet you. Zack had mentioned you several times."

"Ami, this is Wilhelm Schmidt. He was a friend of Zack's." I emphasized the was slightly.

"Oh yes," she replied very cordially. "I believe I remember Zack talking about you."

I was getting a wrinkled brow look from Will. I'm sure he wondered how I knew Ami Lloyd.

Perceptive as always, though, Will said, "Listen, you two. I'll get the prescription filled while you talk, okay?" Two nods, and he was off.

"He doesn't know?" Ami asked, seeking reassurance, I'm sure, but not at all sure how I'd react to seeing her.

"I haven't told anyone."

"Thank you," she said very humbly. More confident now, she said, "Zack is in Arizona, thank God, and I'm trying to learn to be Simon's wife. He knows so many people and is involved in so many things; it's a challenge." She paused, looking at me, biting her lower lip. "I'm not ignorant of why he married me. That doesn't mean I can't be a good wife to him. I learned something ... that day. I grew up more that evening than I had in my entire life."

"Ami, that sounds wonderful, and I can only wish you the best. I think Zack victimized both of us in his selfish way."

"Amen," she answered, smiling. "How old are you, um ...?"

"It's not an easy name to remember. Springer, and I'm twenty-five."

"I won't forget it now for sure, and so am I."

The way she was looking at me, I could see her eyes almost pleading.

"Can we be friends?"

That had to have been incredibly difficult for her to say.

"I'd love that," I answered, very truthfully.

"We didn't get off to the best start, I guess, but that's behind me now."

"Me too," I assured her.

"All the women I've met since I've been with Simon are forty-five, fifty, and even older. I need a friend my age."

"Me too," I assured her again.

"Thank you, Springer," she said, throwing her arms around me. She backed up. Both her hands on my arms. "Would you and Will feel odd joining Simon and me for dinner sometime, if I can arrange it?"

"I wouldn't, and I'm getting to know Will pretty well lately, and I'm sure he'd be fine with it. He's in banking, and I'm sure he and Simon have interests to share."

"Perfect."

As she said that, Will came through the door, a small sack in his hand. Before he knew it, he was engulfed by a fierce hug.

"You've picked a wonderful lady there, Will."

"Waterford and Wedgewood," he responded to a puzzled look from Ami and loud laughter from me.

It was just a week after we ran into Ami that I had a little surprise when I arrived home after work. Standing in the hallway near my door was a young girl, very blond and very friendly.

"Hello. Do you live here?"

"I do, right through that door," I answered.

"I live right there," she said, pointing to a door down the hall and across from mine. Her smile was infectious.

"What's your name? I'm Springer."

"I'm Janie, and I've never known a Springer. How long have you lived here?"

"About three years. And you must be new."

"We moved in yesterday." With that, another part of the "we" appeared.

"Janie, don't bother the lady." An attractive woman holding a dish towel appeared in the hallway?

"She's not bothering me at all, and she's a sweetheart." Janie stood beside me and faced her mother.

"This is my new friend, Springer."

Mother gave me a quizzical look.

"She's got it right," I assured her.

"She'll talk your leg off if you give her a chance. And I'm Alison."

Janie looked up at me and hit me with one of those out-of-the-blue questions that seven or eight-year-olds are so adept at asking.

"Do you have aunts and uncles?"

"I don't," I answered, wondering.

"Me either," she said. "All my friends have aunts and uncles."

She gave me a look that said she was checking me out.

"Will you be my aunt?"

"Janie!"

I smiled at Mother. "Only on one condition."

"What's that?" the small voice questioned.

"You have to be my aunt too."

She looked at her mother. "Can we do that?"

Alison smiled at me. "You have to agree to be Springer's aunt."

I got a wide-eyed look and a big smile. "Okay, Aunt Springer."

"Aunt Janie," I echoed and hugged her.

I had another new friend.

Will had been to my apartment, and I was anxious to see his house. Thankfully he invited me to do just that despite my laughing explanation that my mother would be traumatized to know that I had been alone with a grown man ... in his house.

It wasn't fancy, just two bedrooms and baths on a quiet street under some tall trees that gave it a storybook quality.

He'd told me he had a surprise for me, and he hoped I'd like it. I prayed he hadn't gotten me another present as I hadn't given him anything yet, even though I had given it some thought.

Will parked in the driveway and led me to the front door and then into the living room, then had me sit down. I couldn't imagine what his surprise might be. He went to a closed door at one end of the room and turned to face me.

"Do you like animals?" he asked hesitantly, I think afraid I might not.

"Love them all," I assured him, guessing what was coming.

And there it came, full speed, right at me and into my lap. A beautiful Golden Cocker Spaniel who was quickly licking my face.

"I love him or her. What's its name?"

"Rusty, and I think he loves you too."

I was quickly on the floor playing with Rusty and was eager to respond to everything I did. I looked up at Will, who had a delighted look on his face. I'm sure he was relieved that I loved dogs. It would have been awkward if I hadn't.

Will sat on the floor beside me, Rusty finally slowing down and lying between us. It made my heart swell, the picture that we were painting sitting there.

"I've always had a dog until I moved to the apartment where they're not allowed. Now I'll be wanting to go to your house all the time."

"To visit my dog," he quipped. Then I got a very tender but meaningful kiss.

"May I share a dog story with you," I questioned, giggling.

"This has to be good, based on that giggle," he answered.

"When my mother was four years old, she fell into a pond at her uncle's farm and would have drowned if not for the family dog who leaped into the pond, latched onto mother's dress, and pulled her to where she could finally stand up. Mother always wanted to honor the dog somehow. His name was Elmer. When I was born, She didn't want to name me Elmer. But Elmer was a Springer Spaniel"

With that, I got a knowing look from Will.

"I just found out about that recently. Mother was reluctant to admit shd had named me after a dog."