Love in the Cross Hairs

She answered, "Hardly anybody wears it anymore. It's really quite inexpensive. My mother used to wear it. I just liked the bouquet. It's called Wind Song."

"Wind Song," he said, "I'll remember that." He held out his arm and walked her down the stairs to where his pick-up truck was waiting.

When they reached the truck he apologized, "I'm sorry about the transportation. I had two cars not long ago, a sports car and a larger sedan, but when the economy went south I had to dump them. This is all I have left now, and honestly, I don't date any more so it's all I need."

Laurie looked at the truck. It was, she guessed, maybe a 2006 Chevrolet extended cab. It looked clean, and though when he helped her in she was sitting pretty high, it was comfortable and gave a good view of the road.

After he climbed in the driver's side she said, "This is a very nice truck. I like it."

He smiled. She seemed pretty easy to please; that he figured was either because she really was easy to please or because she had an ulterior motive. Being a woman he concluded it was most likely the second.

He turned on the ignition, "Off we go."

The drive to the Olive Garden wasn't very far, only a mile or two. Neither said anything as they drove.

She glanced over a couple time and discreetly got a look at the guy who was taking her out. He was clean shaven, hair a little long and still a little scruffy. He had good features. He was clean and tidy. He had on a pair of tan jeans, a light blue long sleeved button down shirt; the top two buttons were undone revealing a clean white Tee shirt underneath. He was wearing a tan belt; she guessed probably a thirty-four inch waist. Interestingly he had on penny loafers and white tube socks.

He had some kind of perfume on too. She commented, "Old Spice?"

"Is it OK?"

"Yes."

As they continued driving she concluded, no Beau Brummel, but he still looked good. Laurie decided he was a nice guy. She liked him.

Peter caught a couple good looks at Laurie when he helped her with her coat, and while they walked down the steps. She had on a white blouse. It buttoned up the front. She'd left the top three buttons undone; he thought it was sexy but not wanton. The blouse had one of those rounded kind of collars; peter pan collars he thought, but this one was a little different. It wasn't all tight or stiff looking. There wasn't any lace, no ruffles, but it had a soft airy quality; a little larger than most collars like that, but not real large. It was loose, comfortable looking. It wasn't a short sleeved blouse, but not long sleeved either. The cuffs were small and came to just above her wrists. The blouse was clearly some kind of soft cotton, but the sleeves were made of something finer. They were slightly translucent.

She was wearing a navy blue pleated mini-skirt that came to just above her knees. She had on a pair of dark blue nylons and a dark, almost black pair of high heeled, actually low heeled, only an inch or so, shoes that were held in place by a thin front strap that crossed the top of her foot.

She carried a small handbag. He remembered his old girlfriend called it a clutch purse. He really liked her hair. He could see how thick it was, and she'd tied it off in a tight bun, probably the way she kept it for work. It gave him a good look at her long thin neck, the wispy loose tendrils that swirled around her neck, and her delicate shoulders.

They reached the restaurant. He helped her from the truck, and used his left hand to escort her to the door by gently holding her right elbow. He opened the door, and saw they'd certainly have to wait. The place was jammed with people.

The hostess said it would be about a fifteen minute wait, so they decided to stick it out. While they waited, Laurie sat while he stood beside and a little behind her; it gave him another chance to look her over. She was really demure; what with her hands folded in her lap, feet and legs together, skirt resting comfortably just above her knees.

It wasn't that long and pretty soon they were at a nice table off in a corner. He couldn't have picked a better spot.

He helped her to her seat, and sat opposite her. He asked, "So tell me what you do like."

Laurie was pleased that he was interested in her. She knew some guys were only interested in sex, but she had a hunch Peter was different. She took a few minutes to tell him about her work with computers, and the ways they were able to use them to save people and the company time, trouble, and money. She thought he was very attentive. She liked that; a lot of guys she'd met would just sit and wait so they could talk about themselves.

The whole time she talked all he thought about was how pretty she looked, not what he heard. He liked looking at her face, the way she expressed herself, the way her eyebrows rose and fell. She had a sweet smile. He checked out her hands. She had tiny hands, not long claws like some girls, and not pudgy little paws others had, her hands and fingers were all prim and proper. She'd put some kind of colored nail polish on, that was obvious, but he couldn't figure out the shade. It took him a few minutes until he realized she had a hue on her fingernails that, though lighter, almost exactly matched the violet in her eyes. It was really quite nice. He told her, "Hey, the shade of your fingernail polish matches your eyes. That's neat."

Laurie was delighted. It was something she wore all the time around work, but nobody ever noticed. I pleased her that he caught it, and it took away some of the sting from the way he occasionally looked at her chest.

She had little breasts. There wasn't too much she could do about it. Enlargement was out of the question. She relied on push up and sometimes padded bras, but nothing else. She knew it; she was stuck with a flat chest. His observances, no matter how subtle, made her self-conscious, but his notice of the nail polish was a pleasant surprise.

Peter liked the way she carried herself. He was having a terrible time keeping from staring at her chest. She was built so exquisitely; small, compact, and feminine. Yes, she had little breasts, but under that blouse he could see the way they moved. There was a girlish sail a sweet feminine undulation to every move she made. He had to keep his concentration on her face; otherwise he'd get excited watching her move. He wondered if she knew the effect she was having. Heck, of course she did, women knew that sort of thing.

They had a good meal. After first quietly inquiring as to what Laurie liked Peter ordered for both. They got the house Caesar salad, a carafe of red wine, buttered garlic bread, and two orders of lasagna. They talked for a while, enjoying the wine. Then when their entrées came they both ate in relative silence.

Laurie was famished, but still tried to be careful. She knew she was making a pig of herself, eating so fast, taking such large bites, but she was so hungry, and it tasted so good. She watched Peter eat; he ate like a man, one swift sucking sound and his was all gone. She liked to see a man eat. She liked to cook; maybe he'd let her cook him something some time. She sort of doubted it though. She didn't think, after tonight, he'd want to bother with her again. She could tell, this was a guy with a dozen girls waiting by the phone. This was just a thank you for submitting a statement.

Peter watched her eat. Was she ever dainty; no gulping or smooshing for her, she took small portions, ate them slowly, and sipped her wine or water. She was certainly something.

He liked her, liked her a lot. She was pretty, dainty, ladylike, a good listener, and probably pretty good in other ways too. He put those thoughts out of his mind; somehow thinking of her like that seemed wrong.

He'd like to take her out again, but figured why bother. He knew women. They were all after the same thing, and his big time days were in the past. Here he was, just on the north side of thirty, and already washed up. No, he'd play it safe, no more chances, no more big deals, no more in over his head and no more pot luck with the women.

Too bad though, he bet he could go for her. Here he was; he had this perfect little person across from him, and he was giving up without even a try.

Dinner was over. He walked her back to the truck, and drove her home. Finally, back at her door he was ready to say goodnight. He stood there awkwardly at her door, arms at his side. He felt really stupid, "Well I guess this is goodnight."

She smiled, "Yes, I guess so." She would have liked to have invited him in, but this was a first date. She wasn't the forward type. Poop. She thought, she wasn't any type; just an old maid in training. He was a good looking guy, nice to be with. She liked him, but figured this was probably it.

He didn't leave right away; she hesitated a little, "I had a good time."

He answered, "Yeah, the Olive Garden has good food."

"Yes they do. I liked the wine. I'm glad you ordered the lasagna for both of us." She wanted to tell him, though she liked the food, she would have liked any food, she especially liked the company. That's what she wanted to say, but it never came out.

He smiled again, reached down, took her hand and shook it, "Well good bye."

She didn't want to say good bye, but shook his hand, "Thank you, I had a really nice time."

He stepped back away from the door, gave a low wave, and started down the steps.

She waved back with her fingers, and waited till she heard the front door close. She retreated back into her apartment, went over to her worn out old love seat and sat down, "Well you lost that one didn't you?"

Peter went down and got in his truck, started the engine, and drove off. As he drove back toward the Interstate he considered; why shouldn't he ask her out again? She was pretty, unattached, and obviously alone. If he played his cards right he might be able to get her to go out again; heck another date or two wasn't like a lifetime commitment. Sure, he could find a way to get her to go out again, maybe something might come of it; anything would beat the cold showers every night.

He started to weigh the opportunity costs. She was pretty, she'd been sweet company, she looked good on his arm, and she'd be great as a kind of trophy if he went out with friends or something. If he could hold off her natural manipulative instincts she'd be a pretty reliable date, of course, not some kind of 'significant other' never that again. Also, she knew computers and he didn't. He could use her expertise to help him improve his business, and he could do it at no cost, that would be no cost other than an occasional bunch of cheap flowers or a dinner.

Peter aggravated several motorists when he pulled his truck to the side of the road. He yanked out his cell phone, and touched in her number. He chuckled, he wasn't stupid this time; he'd logged her number into his contact list. Clever boy he thought.

Safely off to the side he waited for her to pick up the phone. After the third ring she answered, "Hello?"

"Hi, Laurie, this is Peter, remember me?"

"Yes, I remember you."

He could almost see in his mind's eye her smile at that inanity, "I thought maybe we could do something Sunday. Are you free?"

Laurie did smile at that. "She said wait a minute, let me check." It was a subterfuge. She waited five seconds and responded, "Well I go to mass in the morning, and later I might wash my hair"

Peter stifled a laugh, "How about three o'clock?"

Then Laurie did laugh, "Where are you taking me?"

He hadn't gotten that far. He thought fast, the major league baseball team was out of town, they were in last place anyway. Getting football tickets this late was out of the question, besides he wanted to impress her, "We could take the train to Washington and see the sights."

She thought, the last thing she wanted to do on her day off was walk all over the Washington Mall, "I might be able to get tickets to see the football game." Their company had several sets of season tickets. They were always asking her to take them, but she never had anybody to go with.

Peter was speechless. This girl had pull, football tickets for a Sunday game as late as a Friday night? He replied, "OK."

She replied, "Great, I'll have to skip mass, but if you get here say around ten, I might be able to swing a parking slot."

Jeez, Peter thought, the kids right on, "OK, see you at ten."

She answered, "Well goodnight Peter." She paused a second, "Oh, and thanks for calling back. I'm really glad you did."

He answered, "Me too."

He closed his phone, restarted his truck and sped off toward home. Not bad he thought, not bad at all.

Laurie immediately got on the phone with her boss. She was always the wimp, the milquetoast, but not tonight. She got her supervisor on the phone, "Bob I need two tickets for Sunday's football game."

He answered, "I only have two left, and I'm using them."

"Bob, I've never asked. I want those tickets." She heard him cuss on the other end.

"I'll leave them in the top of your desk drawer at work; I hope you have a good time."

She heard the mumbled curse word at the end of his comment. She didn't care; she was going to a football game with a nice guy. They'd have good seats, she was going to have fun; drink some more wine, eat crab dip, and cheer on the team, and do it with a guy named Peter.

For a split second she allowed her mind to wander, Laurie Dawson, Mrs. Laurie Dawson, no forget it, just have fun at the game. She unbuttoned her blouse, slipped out of her skirt, nylons, panties, shoes, camisole, and bra, turned on the water, it was time for a nice hot soak in the tub.

Peter got home and checked the paper. Should be a good game, they should win. He wondered, what should be his next step?

'Football Sunday'

The next thing Peter knew it was football Sunday and he was back in front of Laurie's door, he knocked.

Laurie stepped out wearing white jeans, a lavender Tee-shirt and carrying the same windbreaker she'd had on Friday night.

"I have the tickets." She handed the two tickets to Peter, "I think they're pretty good."

Peter took the tickets; she was a good girl, let the man hold them. It was an ego thing; he'd pass them over at the gate. He looked down at the tickets, "Well if you call skybox seats on the fifty yard line good, then they're good, but I want to warn you, for anyone else they'd be considered super seats. How did you manage them?"

"Oh, I told the boss it was my turn. He couldn't refuse."

Peter laughed, "What you made him an offer he couldn't refuse."

Laurie, having never seen the Godfather didn't get the joke, "No, I've just put in so much overtime he had to agree."

Peter realized she didn't get the joke. It was novel, one of the top grossing films of all time, and she hadn't seen it. It was sort of cute too, there was this innocence there he couldn't get over, "Hey come on, we find someone to tailgate with."

Laurie smiled sheepishly, "I've never been to a tailgate party."

"Don't worry we'll find one."

They found a tailgate party not far from where they parked. Maybe a dozen people were there. Peter wangled Laurie an alcoholic Lemonade and a half of a pit beef sandwich. She ate, drank, and talked football with everyone there. Peter had been around professional football all his life. He'd been a little tyke but he remembered when his city lost their first team; he remembered the anger and the anguish. He watched Laurie; she was having a really good time. It occurred to him, she was having fun, and would have been even if he hadn't been there; that bothered him a little. For some reason he felt like he should be the reason for her fun. He didn't let on. But what he did like, though she seldom looked up at him or spoke directly to him, she clung to his arm. Every now and then she spoke to him, but mostly she just looked up and smiled.

Around twelve o'clock they, and the crew they were with, packed up the tailgate stuff and started to head for the stadium. He'd found out most of the people in this particular group were software geeks, several of them worked at her office, and a couple were even headed for their skybox.

The game was fun, and it went about as expected; there were sacks, fumbles, completed passes, good running plays, and touchdowns. Everyone screamed and cheered when the home team did something good, they booed and cried when the opposing team did something, and everybody hated the refs.

At last the game ended. Several people wanted to go out for drinks. Peter asked Laurie, but she said she was tired, and had a busy day ahead on Monday. He helped her get herself together, walked her back to his truck, and took her home.

They listened to radio highlights on the way. He and she talked over the finer points of the game; the big plays, the missed plays, the injuries.

When he got her back to her apartment he helped her up the stairs. Again together they were standing outside her door.

Peter spoke first, "Well here we are again."

She didn't know what to say, she knew what she wanted to say, but was still too scared to say it, "Yes here we are."

"I had a good time Laurie."

"I did too Peter."

He stood there.

She stood there.

He leaned forward.

She leaned forward.

Their lips touched. They kissed. Nothing else touched, no other body contact, just two lips; his firm but not hard, hers soft, tender, and yielding.

"Can I call you again, maybe take you out?"

She answered, "Sure, I'd like that."

"Sometime next weekend?"

"I'm free."

"Is there anything you'd like to do?"

"I don't care. I have an open mind."

He leaned forward and touched her lips with his again, "I'll call...real soon."

"I'll be here."

He backed away, gave another low wave, and jounced down the steps.

After his truck pulled away Laurie called her sister-in-law, "Sally, I won't be available for babysitting next weekend."

"What why not?" came the startled voice on the other end.

"I think I'm going to be out on a date."

"All weekend?"

"I don't know. I'm keeping my options open."

Sally was concerned. She liked her sister-in-law; she liked the dependable free babysitting too, Laurie, let's get together sometime this week. I want you to tell me what's going on."

Laurie, still feeling dreamy, answered, "Sure."

'Cloudy Skies'

Laurie's sister-in-law, Sally, had definite ideas about the kind of man her little her friend should marry. He couldn't be just anybody; he had to be man with a future, a man with expectations, from a good family, and most of all well connected. After all Laurie wasn't just anybody; she came from a storied family, one with a well-respected name, a name that hearkened back through the centuries.

Sure their home state wasn't Massachusetts or Virginia, but the first settlers had arrived in the 1630's. Laurie could trace her ancestry to one of the first families. That might not mean much to a lot of people, and even to most people in the state it mattered for little anymore, but for a few, a select few, it still meant something. Laurie couldn't meet, fall in love, and marry beneath her station. Yes, she had to have a good old fashioned sit down with the girl, have a heart to heart, find out about this new person, and make sure he was acceptable. After all, Sally figured, little Laurie was still pretty impressionable. She needed an older, wiser hand at the throttle.

Sally made arrangements to meet her little sister downtown at the Galleria. She'd find out about the young man, who he was, what his character was like, his intentions, and if she wasn't comfortable with what Laurie said she'd hire a detective agency to get at the truth. Yeah, she'd look after her little friend; she'd done it before.

Peter got off work early Monday. Jeez, he hadn't felt this refreshed, this solid and upbeat in months. His last girlfriend had really taken him for a ride; she ended up with one of what he thought was his friends. Now out of the blue, almost through an act of God this strange little person, Laurie Stanton, had appeared. She was pretty, sweet, sincere, and he hated to admit it but oh so innocent.