Trust Me

The chance meeting of Jennifer Terrell and Antoinette Betancourt was mere happenstance. The stiff leather lace on one of his new topsiders had come undone and he chose that particular bench to sit and retie it. Antoinette had said hello and that began their brief conversation until another very attractive young woman arrived with soft drinks and ice cream.

Although Jennifer was the more outgoing and voluptuous of the two, he was attracted to the quiet beauty of Antoinette. She wasn't as outspoken as her friend, but exhibited a pleasant smile and an ease with his presence. He was pleased that the two new acquaintances had agreed to meet him at the dance in the town plaza that evening. There was something about Antoinette that intrigued him. Certainly, she was attractive, but a little older, and perhaps more subdued and mature. He noticed the look of surprise on her face when he took her hand as he prepared to depart. Something had passed between them and he was uncertain of what it was.

Chapter 3 Save the Last Dance for Me

The crowd had thinned considerably by five in the afternoon. It seemed most people were going home for their evening meal before returning for the dance and entertainment later. Both Jen and Toni chose to do that, having a shower and changing clothes as well. It had been a hot afternoon with the temperature in the high 80's. Fresh clothes after a shower would be a welcome relief.

Marshall had considered staying in town, killing time until the evening events began, but the heat and the fact that most of the vendors and kiosks had closed up, made staying pointless. He drove back to his trailer, showered, had a light meal, and watched some television before returning to Ridgeview just after eight that evening. He strolled around the plaza, looking for Jennifer and Antoinette, but didn't see them. Perhaps they had changed their minds about the dance, he thought.

It was almost nine when the two women appeared in the plaza; both dressed nicely, but more conservatively than they had during the day. It was still warm, and he noticed the ladies had worn sleeveless blouses and knee-length summer skirts. Low heels for the somewhat uneven dance surface made sense as well. He hadn't changed his opinion of them. They were both attractive women and he was pleased to see them. He moved toward them.

"Hello, Jen, Toni," he smiled in greeting. He felt comfortable using their more familiar nicknames.

"Hi, Marsh," Jen smiled, returning the familiarity. "Good to see you decided to come."

"An invitation from two lovely young citizens of Ridgeview was hard to pass up."

"Great," Jen said with a big smile. "The music should start any time now."

Marshall looked over at Antoinette and saw her cautious smile in agreement with her friend. Although she was the quiet one, she appeared to be quite comfortable in his presence. That gave him some confidence.

~*~

"You dance very well," Antoinette said as they finished another session on the temporary dance floor.

"As do you," Marshall smiled.

"Who taught you?"

"My mother," he chuckled. "She taught dance in her spare time. At first I wasn't too happy about it, but as I got older and interested in girls, I realized she'd done me a favor. I'm grateful to her."

"My mother taught me as well. They tried to teach us in middle school, but it was wasted on most of the boys, and probably the girls as well. But ... like you ... I'm grateful I had a good teacher."

"It makes it easier to relax and enjoy the music and your partner, too," he said, hoping he would feel that relaxation in his partner soon. She was tense, he could tell, but wasn't sure why.

"Yes ... much easier."

Antoinette could feel the tension in her stomach. That unfamiliar feeling had reoccurred when they touched. It wasn't fear, but something had caused her to react to Marshall. She tried to push it away but it remained, refusing to allow her to relax in his arms.

They were silent as they returned to their table. Jennifer had disappeared in the company of a young man of her age group.

"What was it like, growing up in Council Bluffs?" she asked, wanting to move the conversation into neutral territory.

"Not much different from any other city, I suppose," he said. "It wasn't like we were out in the middle of nowhere. Omaha was right across the Missouri River, and it was almost like it was the same city, except it was in Nebraska. We went back and forth all the time without giving it a thought. My father is a banker and we lived in a nice house in the suburbs. Admittedly, there wasn't much east of Council Bluffs, but I always thought of myself as a 'city boy.'"

"I've lived in Ridgeview almost all my life," Antoinette said with a smile. "I really like it here. Eugene is nearby, but there are a lot of small towns in the area. My dad runs a cheese plant for the Ridgeview Dairy Co-operative. I work for the Co-op, too."

"What do you do there?"

"I'm Assistant Quality Control Manager," she said proudly.

"That sounds like a very responsible job," he offered.

"It is. I cover all three plants in my travels. There's the cheese plant in Junction City, the butter and ice cream plant in Springfield, and the fluid milk plant here in Ridgeview."

"Do you do testing and that sort of thing?"

"No, my job is to make sure the testing at each plant is being done properly, and the records are being kept accurately and up to date. I also work with my boss and the plant managers if there's a problem."

"I'm impressed," Marshall said with a genuine smile. "That's really remarkable. I'm sure food safety is uppermost for a big dairy operation like yours."

"It is, but it's not a big dairy operation. We're a small, regional co-operative. The dairy farms in the area provide our raw milk supply, and we check it at the Ridgeview plant and distribute some of it to the other two plants. We are mostly producing bulk institutional and commercial fluid milk, cream, butter, ice cream and cheeses. We don't have the size to compete with the big branded producers."

"Do you visit the dairy farms as well?" he asked.

"No ... that's someone else's responsibility. That's a big job, keeping them producing good product and helping them with managing the animals."

"Well, I'm impressed. You have a really important job. Did you go to school nearby?"

"Yes. I'm a 'Beaver,'" she grinned.

He looked confused and slightly embarrassed until it dawned on him. "Oh ... Oregon State, huh?"

"Yes ... class of '08, Food Science and Technology. With my dad's help and guidance, I got a scholarship and the promise of a job from the Co-op when I graduated."

"You sound like you're very proud of your father."

"I am. He learned his trade from his father in France. They immigrated here in 1987 when I was very young."

"That must have been quite a change for your parents. From France to Oregon is a long leap."

"Yes ... but my father wanted to leave France and had been actively looking for an opportunity in America. The Co-op was looking to produce some cheese for the local market and my father was more than qualified for the job. He set up the entire operation himself. The management has pretty well left him to run the plant himself, providing he made good product," she grinned.

"I take it he's succeeded. Is he happy here?"

"Yes. This is home now for him and my mother. He loves the area and the people like him too. He's very careful who he has working for him. He's a bit of a perfectionist."

Marshall nodded. "You've accomplished a lot at a young age."

"I'm in my sixth year at the Co-op, not counting part time jobs when I was in school."

They sat in companionable silence as the band took a break. Antoinette had finally begun to relax and actually enjoy his company. They engaged in some small talk about the weather before Marshall turned to her.

"Would you be offended if I asked you for a date?"

She looked at him curiously before answering. "No ... why would I?"

"We only just met this afternoon. I didn't want to presume ...," he said weakly.

"Oh. You think it might be too soon?" she suggested.

He nodded.

She smiled, realizing he was just as unsure and nervous about her than she was about him. It allowed her to be a little bolder.

"I don't know of any other way we'd get to know each other better," she said with a wry smile.

He sighed in relief. "Good. Is there anything in particular you'd like to do?"

"Why don't we go over to the coast? I'm guessing you haven't been there yet."

"You're right. I've been meaning to go but haven't so far," he admitted.

"Good. We'll go over to Newport. It's a bit of a tourist trap at this time of year, but a nice change."

"When?"

"I'm off Saturday and Sunday, but I have some vacation coming. If we go Monday, we can avoid the weekenders. Can you get away then?"

"Yes, I don't join the practice for another two weeks. I'm finally taking the vacation I've been promising myself for a couple of years."

"Is nine o'clock too early for you?"

"No ... not at all. I'll pick you up and you can guide me," he smiled warmly.

She reached into her purse and pulled out a business card. "My address is on the back, along with my phone number if anything comes up," she said, pleased that she'd taken the time to write the personal information on the card.

Marshall turned the card over and saw a hand-written address and phone number. He looked up at her, wondering ... but tucked the card into his shirt pocket.

"I'll pick you up at nine on Monday."

"Time for one more dance," she asked coyly.

"Of course," he said immediately, standing and holding out his hand to assist her.

~*~

An hour or so later, Marshall Tomlinson lay on his bed, hands behind his head, thinking about Antoinette Betancourt. Attractive, educated, well situated in her career, and ... still single. Perhaps the career was more important than a husband and a family. It would be interesting to know. What else did he know about her?

She was a graceful dancer, fitting comfortably into his arms once she'd overcome her nervousness. She was interesting to talk to. He guessed her age to be late twenties based on her comments about her education and her career with the dairy. He couldn't tell from the address if she was living at home or not. Jennifer had already announced that neither of them had a boy friend.

Her outspoken friend was undoubtedly a sexy woman and probably a lot of fun in the short term, but Antoinette was the more intriguing of the two. He'd barely been in town a week when he had a date with a woman that definitely interested him. She'd been nervous at the beginning, but that seemed to pass as the evening wore on. He was pleased with himself that he took the chance to ask her for a date. She didn't hesitate, and he was pleased how quickly she agreed.

He remembered the scent of her hair and the light perfume or cologne she used. Subtle, understated ... something like the woman herself. She couldn't have missed feeling his erection now and then, but didn't seem to react to the contact. What was he to make of that? It had been a long time since he'd had a woman in his arms ... much less in his bed. He blamed it on his work load at Patton-Faraday, but knew it was much more complicated than that. He was relieved that the past three years hadn't followed him to Ridgeview and his new job. He'd been honest with his new partners, but he still held back some of his history.

~*~

Antoinette Betancourt lay in her bed that Saturday night, thinking about Marshall Tomlinson. The tingling in her belly was back. There was little doubt she was attracted to him. That first touch was the beginning of something, although she wasn't quite sure what. It wasn't just sexual ... at least not outwardly so. It was more subtle than that. Oh, she knew he found her attractive, but there was more to it than that as well. Perhaps Monday would tell her more about this man. Still, she would be cautious.

Chapter 4 A Day at the Coast

"You have Nebraska plates on your vehicle. I thought you were from Iowa?" Antoinette noticed as she met Marshall promptly at nine on Monday morning.

"I am. Council Bluffs is right across the Missouri River from Omaha. I worked for a firm in Omaha, and my apartment was in that city as well. My parents live in Council Bluffs and I went to college in Iowa. So, I have two states to call my former home."

"Does it make a difference which state you live in?" she asked.

"No ... not really. We're prairie people whichever side of the river we're on," he chuckled. "Is this your family home?" he asked, pointing to the elegant old two-story house she had come from.

"No ... I have an apartment here. The house is quite big and has been divided up into four living areas, each with a private entrance, bedroom, bath, kitchenette, and living room. It isn't huge, but it's fine for me. It's been modernized with a heat pump, wireless Internet, lots of secure storage in the basement, and a carport for four cars. It meets my needs for now."

"It looks a lot better than some of the apartment buildings I've seen," he remarked.

"It is. The man who owns the building is very fussy who he will rent to. Lucky for me he knew my father and mother, and that was the only reference I needed."

"How long have you lived there," he said as they moved north toward Corvallis.

"Ever since I finished college. My first job was at the Junction City cheese plant, then down to the Springfield fluid milk, cream and butter plant, before I moved to head office in Ridgeview. We just make ice cream there now. None of the plants are very far from here."

"I'm really pleased you agreed to spend the day with me," he said later as they drove along.

"You're an interesting man, Marshall. You gave up a big job in a big city to move to a small town in the west. I'm curious ... beyond what you said about wanting a small town experience."

He didn't answer immediately.

"The firm I worked for was the largest in Omaha. It was a real 'factory' of lawyers. I had dreams of becoming a partner, so I worked ridiculous hours to try and achieve that goal. After seven years I was making a very handsome living and was well on my way to our ultimate goal. Then ... it all came apart."

"You said 'our goal.'"

"Yes. I was married ... had been since I started at the law firm."

"What happened? Divorce?" she asked, quickly wondering if she straying into a bad topic.

"No ... I'm a widower?" he said simply.

"Oh ... I'm very sorry. Forgive me for being so nosy. It's really none of my business."

"That's all right," he said, turning briefly to her. "It's been three years now, so I'm used to the idea."

That ended the conversation for the next few minutes as Antoinette guided Marshall onto route 20 toward Newport.

"This is really pretty countryside," Marshall said as they cruised along the highway.

"Yes ... it is," she agreed, not wanting to venture into anymore personal territory.

"You haven't upset me, Antoinette," he sighed. "I don't talk about my wife much. She's in my past now and I won't ... can't ... go back there."

She didn't say anything, but turned to him and nodded. She wasn't sure if he saw her gesture.

~*~

It was as nice a day as Marshall could remember in a very long time. The sun was out, the breeze off the Pacific kept the temperature down, and his companion for the day was a pleasure to be with. Antoinette instructed him to park in Newport's lower town where they would walk about, looking in the various shops and the boats in the harbor.

"There aren't many sheltered places along this coast," she told him. "Aside from Astoria in the north, only Newport has any significant deep water for the Coast Guard or larger fishing boats. Further south are the big sand dunes. It's amazing how far the sand is blown in from the water's edge."

"I'm sure I'll get a chance to visit all these places," he said. "I've heard of some of the towns further north, like Lincoln City."

"Yes, that's popular with the tourists. A lot of the kids from Oregon State come over to the coast to party. Most of the time they ended up here or in Lincoln City."

"What do you like best about the coast?" he asked.

She thought for a moment before, "The sunsets. They are really amazing, especially if there's some cloud that turns bright red."

"That would be quite a sight," he agreed. "Are you getting hungry?" he asked after a pause.

"A little. I know of a nice place to eat, if you'd like. It's not too expensive."

"Don't worry about money. I'm well set for some time. That was about the only benefit from working long hours," he said with a frown.

"Is it always like that? The long hours?" she asked.

"In the bigger firms, yes. It's a very competitive environment, each of the young associates trying to climb the ladder to the ultimate prize -- a partnership. That's where the really big money is. But I did very well in any event. I was usually among the leaders in billable hours. I was also entitled to some bonuses as well."

"But not all of you could become partners, right?"

"Right. Only a very few were even considered. But it didn't stop most of us from trying."

"Did you think you had a chance?" she asked as she led him into a small deli-cum-bistro.

"Yes, I was sure of it. It wouldn't be right away, but I could see myself being offered one in five years or so. But ... it wasn't going to happen. When Carolyn was ... uhhm, when she died, my dream died too," he said sadly.

She knew not to pursue this further and resumed perusing the menu board behind the counter. "What would you like?" she smiled. "My treat for the newcomer."

"Oh ... a sandwich, I guess," he answered absently as he quickly looked over the pre-made items in the counter. "That half-hero looks good. I'll have that and an ice tea."

"That does sound good. I'll have the same, please," she told the man behind the counter.

"I can smell the ocean," he noted as they left the small café and continued their walk through the lower town.

"Yes. I love that smell. When I was younger, my parents used to bring me here and we would picnic on the big sand beach and watch the gulls and hope to see some whales."

"You can see whales here?" he said in surprise.

"Just a few miles up the road at Depot Bay they have a whale watch center. We'll go there this afternoon if you're interested."

"Absolutely!" he enthused. "I've never seen a whale before. I'd love to get the chance."

"Well, that's it ... it's just a chance," she warned. "The best time is in the spring and fall when the migration is happening. In the spring, the gray whales move north, and return in the fall. However, there are a few resident whales, so you never know. It's a fantastic sight. We also have some Orcas in the area ... what people call killer whales. Also sea lions and pelicans too."

"That's great. Let's go there then."

Antoinette smiled at his boyish enthusiasm. This was all new to the man from the central plains. She had a love of whales ... all sea life for that matter. Every two year she made the journey south to the Monterey Aquarium. If she hadn't trained to be a food scientist, she was sure she would have studied marine biology. The ocean and the sea life it contained fascinated her.

"I think, just by good luck, I've found a great place to live, Antoinette."

"I have a question. I notice you use my formal name. Why? Most of my friends call me Toni."

"Oh ... well ... uhhm ... I just liked the sound of your proper name. It's very feminine and I think it fits you better than your nickname. Does it bother you?" he asked carefully.

"No ... not at all. I was just curious. These days, people seem to shorten everything down for text messages. No one is going to take the time to spell out Antoinette in one of those. But I've been 'Toni' since it was in middle school, and that how most people know me."