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Stephanie shook her head slowly. "You are absolutely insane."
"Well, it wasn't over. The guy had a hook through my lip. I just didn't quite realize it yet. That came just a bit later. After dessert."
When the waitress arrived with coffee, she took out her order pad. "What can I get you to enjoy with your coffee? We've got some of the best cheesecakes around," she suggested.
Peggy studied and pointed at the menu. "I'm trying to choose between these two. I just can't decide!"
"Bring a slice of both," the man said to the waitress as he closed his own menu, "and a piece of warmed blueberry pie a la mode for me."
Peggy laughed. "I can't eat that much. Why'd you do that? Are you trying to make me fat?"
"Of course not. Life is too complex with real problems and too short to be fretting over choice of cheesecake," he said and smiled tenderly.
"Too short to choose dessert?" Peggy chuckled.
"Yeah, among other things." He smiled warmly at her. "I'm wired a little different, I guess."
"Well, no worries there. We can share," she suggested.
"That's an absolutely perfect idea."
"This is getting boring," Nina said, popping a forkful of salad into her mouth.
"After we polished off everything," Peggy continued, "and I do mean every single bite, we went to his resort and screwed until he had to go back to Oklahoma."
Nina coughed, and a bit of boiled egg escaped her mouth and bounced off the table onto the brick pavers where an attentive sparrow made off with it. It took her several seconds to recover.
"Shut up !" Nina coughed again.
"Okay, because that's the end of it anyway."
"Jeez, Nina! Stay quiet, would you?" Stephanie barked.
Peggy laughed.
"Go back. Don't listen to her," Stephanie begged.
"Good lord, that was all so delicious!" Peggy sighed and slid forward in her seat, quite relaxed, and blotted her mouth with her napkin.
"How does a woman who looks as good as you eat like that?" He chuckled, rubbing his belly.
"I don't know. I'm a doctor, and I don't know. Weird, huh? Almost every guy I've ever dated tells me I'm too skinny. I try to gain weight, but it just doesn't happen."
"Well, stop then."
"Stop what?"
"Stop trying to change yourself. You're perfect the 'weigh' you are." He chuckled as he air-quoted the homonym.
She laughed. "You're a goofball."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"No! Sorry, no. Really. You have a fun sense of humor. There's just something..."
She paused. She watched his eyes for clues, for signs. They offered only what she'd seen before. They showed keen interest in her words, in her opinions. They showed interest in her. "There's just something about you."
"Tons of doofusness?" he asked.
"Yeah, kinda." She smiled, "but you just come across as being so completely... um... unnerved?"
"Yeah."
She chuckled. "You're agreeing with me?"
"I'm just... not... I don't know," he cautiously said.
"Not what?" Peggy gently urged.
"I know I'm not the normal kind of lady's man."
Peggy's breath caught for several seconds as she parsed his words. She knew his self-deprecation wasn't a put-on. She sensed latent vulnerability.
"Am I a lady in your eyes?" she asked.
"Hardly," he answered.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she challenged, mildly offended.
"That didn't come out right. You are hardly the classic lady. You're far from it. You're a doctor who willingly dives into the worst of my fears. You're a woman who cares for children. The weakest and meekest of all. You care for those who are involved in what has to be the worst of circumstances.
"Compared to what I did for a living, you're the best of humanity. You're not just a lady. You're a heroine. You're like the best of what this world has to offer," he said.
Peggy watched him closely. His eyes were moistened.
"Hey. Wow," she said. "Can I ask you a personal question?"
"Please do."
"What happened to you? I see pain in your eyes."
It took him several moments to steel himself. "Years and years ago, my twin sister was hit by a car. We were walking to school, and a guy who was simply fiddling with his radio struck the crossing guard and two kids."
He stared into the distance before continuing. "The crossing guard wound up paralyzed, and one of the kids died on the spot. My sister... well, she lost her leg. And I didn't have a scratch on me because I was walking ahead of her by just a few feet."
Peggy gasped. "Oh, hell."
"Yeah. But someone like you was at the hospital she was taken to. She could have died, but she didn't. Like I said, she lost a leg, but she kept her life.
"It didn't slow her down, though. She's an adjunct professor of mathematics at Oklahoma State. She earned dual doctorates two years after I earned my master's. I didn't earn my first doctorate until a year after she'd earned two ."
"She sounds like a very resilient woman. That's fantastic." Peggy smiled.
"You bet your pretty little butt she--Oh," he stammered. "I wasn't thinking. What an incredibly stupid thing to say." His face deeply blushed.
"Don't worry about it."
"No, it was offensive and inexcusable."
"Listen to me. I'm not offended. You did no harm, okay? It was a slip of the tongue. I get it."
"It was still impolite, and I apologize."
"And I accept," she said and smiled warmly.
It took Eric several moments to recover, seeking to change the subject.
"At the pharmacy, you mentioned an idea you wanted to research but couldn't."
"Right. In hospitals, doctors, regardless of patient age, do whatever is needed to maintain the life of the patient. Doctors like me treat them surgically. Other specialists treat them medically. Patch 'em up, move 'em out is the mantra we work by.
"Patients like mine are at particular risk because the number one post-surgical complication is infection, and the longer patients stay in a hospital, the likelier an infection becomes. We try to get them out the doors as quickly as practicable."
"I've read how VRSA and MRSA and other junk is a huge problem."
"Exactly . But one thing we don't do is psychological treatment. I mean, for crying out loud, the physical injury isn't the only trauma my patients suffer. The psychological treatment, if any, comes much later, is always outpatient, and only if sought by parents."
Eric listened intently. "Go on."
"I want to research bringing clinical psychologists into the room as soon as patients are awake and coherent. I want to see what the mending of patients' minds might contribute in the progression of their treatment."
"You're thinking overall long-term recovery might benefit?"
"Yes, but more importantly, their overall well-being , you know? I mean, imagine what reliving such a thing in their nightmares must be like. If they can receive guidance through the healing process, it must help, don't you agree?"
"Interesting idea," he said. "Is it something you've thought through enough to defend your position?"
"Of course I have. My proposal has been reviewed by my peers a number of times. It just hasn't left the pile of bureaucracy."
"It's incredibly fascinating," he offered.
Peggy decided to push against his fence a little. "Enough about me. I want to ask you a question about something you said a few minutes ago."
"Sure."
"Do you really think I have a nice butt?"
His eyes went wide.
"It's okay. I'm only curious."
He watched her for several seconds, observing her body language. "I do. You are a very attractive woman."
"Even considering what you saw at the pharmacy?"
"Hey. Nothing wrong with what I saw. Doesn't matter to me one bit how your... femininity was apparent."
"Huh," Peggy said after a pause. "You're a very... intriguing person, you know?"
"Why's that?"
"It's hard to explain. You're very, very handsome, if you don't mind me saying so, but you act as if you're completely unaware of it."
"I don't understand," he said cautiously.
"That ! Right there!" She wagged a forefinger at him. "I've not met anyone who is as attractive as you who wasn't totally full of himself, whereas you... you're so completely... approachable."
"That's because I'm a hick," he said with a suddenly pronounced accent and a cute smile.
Peggy laughed. "No, you're not!"
"Yes, ma'am, I am. I'm a goat-ropin', horse-ridin', truck-drivin', red-neck cowboy."
Peggy laughed harder. "Stop it. Say what you want about yourself. But..."
"But what?"
"But... I kind of like you. You're so... normal."
He chuckled. "I wish I were. It'd be easier to meet more women like you if I were."
"What's that supposed to mean? You have met a woman like me. You've met me ."
"Back home, it's much more difficult."
"Why?" she asked.
"Well, I don't really want to get into it, but I'll just say where I'm from, people know me. I can't trust their motives."
"Why not?"
"Just can't. I've been burned one too many times. Being burned has made me gun-shy, I guess," he said, nervously tracing his finger along the rim of his coffee mug.
"I see. But... you asked me out."
"Yeah," he said with a nervous chuckle. "I guess I did."
"I'm glad. I'm enjoying myself."
He fidgeted for a few moments and looked at his watch. "It's getting late. I'm sure you've had a long day. I'll drive you back to your car so you can get some sleep before work tomorrow."
"I'm off until Friday."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. I work compressed shifts. Twelve hour days, alternating three and four days per week, and I'm not on call tomorrow."
"So--"
"So, I'm fine. Besides. All this sugar has given me a second wind."
Peggy thought for a few seconds about changing seats so she could sit next to him, but didn't because she wouldn't be able to look into his eyes as easily. She reached for his hand which was still busy working on the coffee mug.
He relaxed his fingers into hers as she stroked his palm and fingertips.
"You're a fibber," she said. "Your hands are soft. You're no cowboy."
"I kind of am, but I also meant it in a metaphorical sense," he said as he relaxed into her soft touch.
She interlaced her fingers with his, held his hand with hers, and stroked the back of it with her other. He watched her fingers move slowly, hypnotically. He enjoyed the very pleasant sensations.
She watched his eyes. She studied his languid, relaxed expression as she brushed her fingertips across the inside of his wrist. She smiled when she noticed the texture of his skin change.
"What's your last name?" Peggy asked.
"Can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"Just can't. What's making this evening especially pleasant is because I know you don't know me. And... maybe right now, I don't want you to know me."
"That makes me a little nervous."
"Yeah, I get it. But I'm a good guy. It's... It's hard to explain."
"Jones."
"Huh?"
"Smith. Parker. Uh... Keller. Miller. Cooper. Muenster."
He laughed. "What are you doing?"
"I'm trying to guess."
"Oh. Then... no to all seven."
"Johnson? Brown? Williams? Richards? Horton?"
He opened his eyes widely in the middle of her recitation. "Brown."
"Eric Brown? Really?" she asked gleefully.
"Nope." He grinned, having fun with her game. Even though she'd already heard his surname at least twice, he was certain she wasn't conscious of it.
"Can you take me back to my car now?" she asked.
The question pulled him away from his reverie.
"Oh. Sure," he said as he unfolded two twenty-dollar bills on the table and tucked the corners under his saucer.
He pulled her chair back for her and she rose and started walking toward the exit.
"Did I do something wrong?" he asked.
"Just keep walking," she whispered with a smile on her face.
They walked the few remaining yards to his car in silence. The rain had slowed to a misty drizzle. When he opened the door for her, she turned toward him, placed a hand behind his neck, and pulled him into a kiss. She felt his initial surprise and tension in his lips, but he quickly moved past it and kissed her slowly, softly, tenderly.
His senses became heightened. He smelled her scent and tasted her kiss.
"Oh. My. Word." He sighed as he rested his forehead against hers.
"I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that. I probably stink since I've been up all day and half the night, and I haven't brushed my teeth since lunch."
She felt him wrap his arms around her and he held her closer to him.
"You smell like nothing but honest work and rain. And you taste like chocolate cheesecake," he whispered. "And thank you. That was really... nice."
He pierced her eyes with his and gave her lower lip a soft, gentle kiss. "I'll take you back to your car now."
She slid into her seat. "Okay, but..."
He'd begun to close her door but stopped and watched her.
"I do need my car," she continued, "but I'd like to follow you to wherever you're going."
"I'm going back to my resort."
"I know," she said with a sweet smile.
He smiled back, closed her door, and got into the driver's seat. She leaned over and offered him another kiss which he happily accepted. Ten minutes passed before his car left the parking lot.
"Bull crap," Nina barked.
"What?" Peggy demanded.
"You can't expect us to believe any of this."
"Believe whatever you want. I've got physical proof."
"Show me," Stephanie ordered.
"I don't have it here. It's at my house."
"How convenient. What is it?"
"It's a coffee mug from the resort. He wrote a message on it with a marker."
"What's it say?"
"'Thank you for being my guide,' and he signed it. Well, initialed it."
"How corny. Bring it to work tomorrow?" Nina suggested.
Peggy sighed loudly. "I'm off tomorrow for four days, doofus. Now do you want me to continue or not?"
He waited in the lobby for twenty minutes, wondering if he'd been stood up. Self-doubt poured over him, as it had on many occasions. He kicked himself in his mind for not following behind her. He'd have seen her depart and head a different way, which would have been a clearer signal of disinterest than making him stand there waiting.
His mind struggled to figure out what he'd done wrong. Her kisses had been so sweet and so tender. He decided she was too good to be true. He began to walk toward the elevators to return to his suite.
"Eric!" he heard after he'd walked a few paces.
He turned and saw her entering the lobby, walking briskly toward him.
"Are you okay? What happened?" he asked.
"Sorry! I... um... I was delayed. I got pulled over."
"Oh, no! Why?"
"One of my taillights is on the fritz. Sometimes it just goes out. It's been doing it for a few months. A policeman pulled me over because it chose tonight to stop working again."
"So it's out now? And it's intermittent?"
"Yeah."
"Show me?" he requested.
"Uh, right now?" she asked as she wrapped her arms around him and drew him close to smell his scent.
"No, you're right. Besides, all my tools are upstairs."
"Your whats are where?" Peggy asked.
"Yeah, I'm a nerd. I bring basic tools with me everywhere I go."
"Why?"
"Hey! Don't laugh at me. It's kind of how I came to be who I am."
"Who are you?" her eyes showed genuine interest.
"Just an ordinary dude."
"I don't believe you," she said as she pulled him into a tender kiss.
"Why are you so incredible?" he sighed.
"I don't think I am." She quivered subtly in his arms.
"Yes... yes, you are." He kissed her again.
Her insides felt it. She'd never been paid such a compliment, and she was uncertain how to respond.
"Why do you say that?" she asked.
"You're just simply beautiful."
"No, I'm not," she argued.
"You are. You're gorgeous."
"I'm a butter."
"You're a what?" His eyes echoed his question.
"I don't want to talk about it here in the lobby."
"Oh. You want to come up to my suite?"
She kissed him, offering her tongue. He met it with his own, tasting her.
"Why would I be here otherwise?" she whispered.
They kissed tenderly during the ride to the ninth floor which held his expansive 1,100 square-foot suite.
"Oh, my god , the way he kissed me..." Peggy murmured. Both of her friends saw her eyes roll back as she smiled serenely before closing them.
"Tell us," Nina whispered.
"He'd tease me with the tip of his tongue, and just as I'd try to meet it, it'd disappear. It was like hide and seek and it so seriously turned me on. I could tell he was really into it, too, because he was holding me really close, and... well, you know." She grinned.
"Ooh ," Stephanie mewled.
"Pics or it didn't happen," Nina challenged.
"I've got pictures. But I'm not going to show you."
"What?" Nina growled. "Please?"
Peggy was amused by Nina's sudden shift of demeanor from aloof to keenly interested. "Later... maybe."
Eric escorted her through his door.
"Now. Where were we?" he asked after he'd enjoyed the flavor of her for several wonderful moments.
"Mmm," she cooed. "What do you mean?"
"What's a butter?" he asked as he sat on the couch and rubbed his aching foot.
"Oh. That. Well, it's just that you keep telling me how pretty I am, and I'm thinking you're fibbing because I've actually heard guys call me a butter."
"What does that even mean?"
"You know. 'She's got a pretty face, but her ... fill-in-the-blank.' Butter ."
"That's cruel, and horribly inaccurate," he said.
She studied his expression. His eyes briefly conveyed anger.
"Yeah, but it is what it is," she dismissively said.
"I don't mean that it's wrong that anyone would say it, which it is, but it's wrong that anyone would even think it. You've got a beautiful figure."
"Beautiful figure ? What are you, seventy years old?" She chuckled, saw him blush, and immediately regretted her choice of words.
"If I'm seventy, so are you, Peggy ," he answered, poking gentle fun at the antiquity of her name with an honest smile. "No, I'm thirty-seven. I just don't think it's polite to say, 'You've got an awesome body.' That's not how I try to be. I only answered your question about your bottom because you insisted."
Her breath caught at the overt compliment, but she felt compelled to argue because she thought she knew better.
"Look at me. I'm five eleven. My measurements are thirty-two, twenty-five, thirty-three."
He just stared at her, wordlessly.
"Not the right proportions," she added.
He blinked.
"I'm too tall, too skinny, and I don't have boobs or a butt."
"I don't consider a 3:2:3 ratio a requirement for beauty."
He paused for a moment.
"Listen to me, please? You're not too tall. You're maybe an inch shorter than me which is just freaking perfect. I don't know what you think of my height, because I think I'm short, but I, for one, find tall women very... alluring, and not so rough on the neck. Not too sure what would happen if you were to put on heels, though," he said with a grin.
She chuckled a bit and rolled her eyes. As for what she thought of his height, she wasn't yet ready to tell him he was her ideal as well. She felt awkward with men shorter than herself, which most were.
"At the risk of being very rude, can I ask you to do something?" he asked.
"Sure."
"First, listen to me. I'm a bit nervous around you because... well, I just am. And I know I'm awkward when I'm nervous. I'm sure you can tell that already. So, if I do something or say something stupid, please, I beg of you, tell me.
"I like you. I'm interested... in you. I kind of hope it's obvious. And the last thing I would ever want to do, ever , is make you feel uncomfortable, okay?"
She watched his eyes. They were so honest, yet she found it so difficult to blend his timidity with his raging good looks.
