by K C West
She put the mug down on the bedside cabinet. “Today is Thursday … remember … our farewell dinner.”
“Geez!” I sat up, shaking my head to clear it and send my desire for further sleep packing. “What time is it?”
“It’s just seven-thirty. No need to panic.” PJ sat on the edge of the bed. She handed me my tea. “Drink up.”
I took the mug from her, wrapping my hands around its warmth. As I sipped the hot tea, I peered at her over the top of the mug. “You’re a sight to wake up to.”
“I hope that was intended as a compliment.”
“It was.” A ripple of desire spread down my spine and settled in the vicinity of my groin. I took another sip of tea. I recalled that when I was with Terry, my urges were always strongest in the morning.
PJ cocked her head to one side. “What?”
“What do you mean, what?”
“You were miles away.”
“No I wasn’t. I was closer than you think.”
She smiled. “Care to tell me where you were?”
I raised an eyebrow and handed her my almost empty mug.
“Are you going to tell me or do I have to wrestle it out of you?”
“I have to get up and get showered.”
PJ put the mug down on the bedside cabinet and leaned over to kiss me. I turned my head. “Not now … morning breath, you know.”
She giggled. Then with a lightning fast move, she caught me full on the mouth. “Smells like rose petals to me,” she said, straightening up.
“Girl, you are sick. Now go, I have to clean up.”
She stood there with a ‘come hither’ expression on her face.
It happened so fast that I don’t remember even thinking about it. I grabbed her and pulled her onto the bed. We roughhoused for a minute or so. PJ was squealing with delight. Then she stopped, and I stopped. I was lying on top of her, my legs straddling her hips. I was holding her arms down, our lips almost touching. We remained frozen in that position for several seconds.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, lifting myself off her. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” PJ’s voice was husky.
I wasn’t sure if her eyes were shining from tears or from need. Gawd, I want you, too, PJ, but not this way. I was aware of a tingle between my legs. It’s been a long time for me and I’m eager, but this doesn’t feel right… it’s not the time.
“Please, PJ, not now.”
“Then when?”
“I don’t know.” I got up off the bed. “I just know not now.”
PJ stood up, reached for my empty cup, and went through the bathroom and into the kitchen. She slammed the door into its frame with a clunk that reverberated through the soles of my bare feet.
I leaned forward, cradling my head in my hands. “Shit!”
Several minutes passed. Gawd, why am I handling this so badly?
I pulled myself together, threw my sleep scrubs on the bed, and went into the bathroom. I squinted at the spotlight of sunshine beaming through the skylight as I stepped into the shower stall.
The cool water cascaded off my body, taking my mind off its sexual demands. Damn it all, PJ, I don’t want to hurt you. I sighed. Why did you have to fall in love with me anyway?
Twenty minutes later, showered, and dressed in clean jeans and a fresh, long sleeved, checkered shirt, I joined PJ in the living area. She was sitting at the table nursing a cup of tea and staring out the window.
I slipped in beside her. “PJ, I—”
She held up her hand. “Please, don’t say anything… There’s nothing to say.”
I put my hand under her chin and turned her face toward me. She’d been crying. “PJ, bear with me a little longer, okay?”
She took a deep breath and nodded. “Have you looked outside?”
“Just up … through the skylight.”
“It’s a lovely day … sunshine and blue sky, no wind, and no dust. It’s warm … perfect for the cookout.”
I smiled. “Then we’d better get to work hadn’t we?”
“Yes, but first, I’ll run Pup.”
“Okay.” I leaned forward, intending to drop light kisses on PJ’s eyes and lips. She pulled away.
“I’m sorry Kim. That’s not a good idea. If we’re going to work together as friends from here on out, then we’d better keep it platonic.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I just can’t turn my emotions on and off like a faucet.” She tried to stand. “C’mon, let me out of here so I can take Pup for his run. We’ve got to get going or the team will be here and we won’t be ready for them.”
I got up and moved out of her way.
She pulled Pup’s leash from its hook just inside the front door and was gone. I followed her, down the three inside stairs and the two outside steps and watched her jog off down the road with Pup bounding along beside her.
“Damn!” I turned and punched the side of the motor home with my fist, cutting my knuckle on a sharp piece of metal. “Damn, double damn!”
I hurried inside to the bathroom sink, letting the water run over what was a small but nasty cut. Then, I drizzled antiseptic over it and covered it with a large Band Aid. The cut was in an awkward place so I ran two strips of tape across the Band Aid to keep it in place, one between my index and big fingers and the other between my middle fingers.
“What happened to you?” PJ asked when she returned, breathless, with Pup.
I shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Well, it looks like a pretty painful nothing.”
“I wasn’t looking at what I was doing and caught my hand on a piece of metal on the siding.”
“Yeah…and then you beat the shit out of the piece of metal, accounting for that bruise.”
I glanced down at my knuckle, which had turned quite dark. “It’ll be okay.”
PJ slammed Pup’s leash onto its hook and turned the sink’s faucet on full force, splashing water into his bowl and onto the counter before banging it down on the floor. “I’m sure it will be.” She raised her head and glared at me. “You’re the iron maiden, after all.” She stood up and grabbed a cloth for the spilled water. “You don’t need any help … won’t let anyone get close. You don’t know how to need anyone or feel for—”
“Don’t start with me, PJ.”
She stood at the sink with her back to me, squeezing out the cloth. “I’m not starting anything, Kim, more like I’m finishing…”
I took a step toward her, forced to converse with the back of her head and a set of tense shoulders. “What about our friendship?”
She whirled around to face me. “What about it? Do you need my friendship? Do you need anyone for any reason?”
Pup whined and rubbed up against my leg. I dropped my hand and buried it in his ruff.
“I’m surprised you even let him in your life.” PJ pushed me aside and moved to the sofa, where she picked up each pillow and gave it a punch before arranging it.
“You know, you might want to leave a bit of stuffing in those,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
“I’m fluffing the pillows.” PJ’s words came through clenched teeth.
“Oh.”
She stood up and folded her arms across her chest. “Let’s get on with what we have to do here, okay? The sooner today is behind us, the better.”
Her words stung.
Preparing the food, setting the picnic tables, and getting everything ready for the barbecue was a choreographed dance as we both tried to stay out of each other’s way … hard to do in the small confines of the motor home. Our only verbal communication had to do with preparation of food and setting up the tables.
I slipped some CDs into the player and allowed the music to fill the silence that hung like fog between us. To outsiders we would have looked like polite mannequins performing the minuet.
“Hey, Doc, look who we found at the bus station,” Sandy said, sticking his head around our open door. “Laine, Josie, and I met him at the depot.”
I wiped
my hands on the dishtowel I’d tucked into my belt while mixing the ingredients for deviled eggs. “Our long lost Mike?”
Sandy stepped aside so Mike could take his place in the doorway.
“Hi Doc. Guess I missed all the excitement, huh?”
“If you want to call it that.”
“I’m so sorry about the Amazons. Sandy and the girls filled me in on everything. We’ve lost it all, huh? We had ‘em and they were stolen from us by a damned earthquake.” Mike’s brown eyes filled … his lower lip quivered.
I know you’re sensitive, but don’t you dare start crying on me. “It’s okay, Mike. We found them, they shared their secrets, and now they’re resting in peace.”
He sniffed. “Yeah, but they were your life … how can you be so forgiving of circumstances?”
“Because that’s all I can be, anything else is beyond my control, beyond anyone’s control, except perhaps the Fates.”
Mike stepped up into the motor home. “Doc, I want to shake your hand … you’re an incredible woman.”
We shook hands. I saw a tear escape his brimming eyes and make its way down his cheek and breaking up in his scrawny excuse for a mustache. I pulled him into a hug.
“You’re a good fellow, Mike, and you have a grand career ahead of you.”
PJ appeared in the doorway after taking Pup for a last minute, leisurely stroll around the park before everyone arrived. I released Mike. “Go now, join the others.”
“Welcome back,” PJ said, when he turned around to face her. Pup gave Mike a lick on his hand.
“Yeah thanks.” He kept his head down, patting Pup. I wondered if he was embarrassed to have been caught with his sensitivity showing. “I was just telling Doc here how sorry I am about the project.”
“We all are,” PJ said, glancing from him to me.
Mike turned in my direction. “Can I help with something?”
“Nothing in here, but you can see if Sandy needs help firing up the barbecues.” We had borrowed one from Sandy’s mom and one from the manager of the RV park.
“So,” PJ said, as she hung Pup’s leash, “you shared another one of your precious hugs. Better watch out, Kim, folks will think you really care.”
“I’m seeing a side of you that I do not like, but it’s good that you’re showing it now and not later, after we…” I turned my attention back to the deviled egg mix. I heard another car drive up.
“After we what?”
I spun around. “It’s not important, PJ. Save it for later.”
“What later? There isn’t going to be—”
Josie stuck her head around the door and snapped a picture of us with her flash camera, catching us glaring at each other. “Oops! Um…everyone’s here.”
“Thank you, Josie.” I wiped my hands on the dishtowel. “I see you still have a patch on your forehead. Are you healing okay?”
“Yes, thank you, Doc. I’m fine.” She looked hard at PJ and then at me. “Uh … I think Sandy’s ready for the meat and chicken.”
PJ opened the refrigerator and pulled out two large, foil-covered plates. “Here, you take the chicken. I’ll bring the meat.”
She turned just as she was about ready to go out the door. “I apologize, Kim. My remarks were uncalled for … I was way out of line.”
I turned back to the counter and the deviled eggs. I was not in a party mood, but I was not going to allow the interaction between PJ and me to spoil it for the others.
When she returned for the condiments, I pulled her aside. “Listen, I don’t care what you do afterwards, but we’re going to put on a good face this afternoon … for the sake of our people, okay?”
She nodded and reached out to touch my hand. When I pulled back, she dipped her finger into the deviled egg mix and licked it. “Mmm, good stuff.” She winked and I was unable to suppress a smile.
Outside, the fellows had pushed two picnic tables together end to end making one long table. They insisted that I sit at the head of the table and set up a folding chair there for me. Sandy directed PJ to sit on the bench at my right hand.
“What is this,” PJ asked, “The Last Supper?”
Everyone snickered.
Sandy sat on my left. Then, after much shuffling and scraping of benches, the rest of the crew settled onto whatever bench space was closest to them.
PJ and I were close enough together that we were forced to interact to affect the appearance of normality.
There were toasts to be made. “Laine, will you do the honors and pour the Sparkling Cider?”
“Sure, Doc.” She opened two of the three bottles which, when she pried off the tops, popped like champagne corks.
“Got fizz, will travel,” Mike said as he picked up the filled glasses and passed them around.
When everyone was served, Sandy stood and tapped his plastic cider glass with a plastic fork. I smiled because it sounded like a woodpecker at a knothole.
“Here’s to Doc Blair,” Sandy said, raising his glass, “the crown jewel of the archaeological community.”
The chorus of “Here, here…” could have been heard all the way to the highway. It was followed by cries of “Speech … speech,” equally as enthusiastic and equally as loud.
I stood and waited for the applause to die down.
“Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking…” My words were received with loud guffaws. “Listen, guys and gals,” I said when the group settled down. “First, how are you all doing? Lewis, how is that leg?”
He grinned. “This may be overkill,” he said, tapping his air splint, “but I do have a hairline fracture and I’m babying it.”
“Good idea. And the rest of you … I still see some bruises.”
“And we’re proud of ‘em,” Dewey said, “and wear them like badges of courage.”
Everyone snickered.
“Okay, well, down to business.” I sipped some water. “I couldn’t have accomplished what I did here without your help. You were all one hundred percent part of the Lost Tribe Project and you gave your all for it. The fact it ended the way it did was in many respects unfortunate, but if you look at it in terms of the Amazons themselves, it could have ended no other way. I don’t think I could have lived with myself if they had been removed, separated, and stored away in some dusty museum vault or in glass cases for the world to peer at them.”
More applause.
I silenced the enthusiastic outbreak with a downward motion of my hands. “I believe we all felt a very real connection to our Warrior Women and the journey they undertook so long ago. Their paths and ours crossed in our time and provided closure to their story. The fact that we as archaeologists have lost them now is of no consequence. We can be proud of our place in their lives.”
Everyone stood and applauded.
“I have just one more thing to add … two things actually-First, PJ will be talking to you about completing your sessions at UofA.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Lewis, said. “We were wondering where we go from here and how this situation affects our status.”
“Well, not to worry.”
“And the other thing?” Laine asked. “You mentioned you had two things to talk about.”
“Yes.” I took another swallow of cider. “I want to thank PJ.” I reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “Without her I doubt I’d have made it through these past few weeks. She was there when I most needed her. And if you want to see a damned fine archaeologist, look no farther than to my right. She’s the best and I’m proud to call her my friend.”
A chorus of “PJ … PJ … PJ,” sent the nearby Cactus Wrens fluttering into the air.
PJ stood to acknowledge the ovation.
Josie whipped out her camera and snapped a picture of PJ and me. “Now stand a bit closer together.” She waited until PJ and I were standing shoulder to shoulder. “That’s good. Now, smile and say ‘Amazons.’” We all laughed.
The group called for a speech from PJ and she remained standing. She looked at me throug
h watery eyes.
“Geez, people, I’m in no condition to talk right now. I do want to say something a little later though, about some serious stuff … your future and that sort of thing.” A round of applause interrupted her.
She glanced in my direction. “Thank you, Kim … and thank you all for letting me join your tight-knit group. This expedition has been the high point of my professional career to date. Not only did it give me the opportunity to work with one of the legends in the archaeological community…” She turned to me and applauded, triggering another outbreak from the group, “…but it gave my life direction and purpose, something that was sorely lacking. Okay, I’ll have a longer, more polished speech to make later, but right now, I suggest we get back to the important business of eating.”
There were more cheers as PJ sat down. She covered my hand with hers and kept her voice low. “Thank you for filling as much of my life as you were able to do.”
“It’s not over, you know.”
“Yeah, well…” She heaved a sigh and turned her attention to her meal.
Conversation was sporadic as we dug into the feast in front of us. I studied the assembled students. Soon there would be nothing left but empty plates, crumbled paper napkins, squashed soda cans, and empty water bottles. The voices, the discussion, the good-natured bantering of the team would be in the past, part of the ‘I remember when’ chapter. I wished for time to stand still so that our last meal together could continue forever.
James and Laine broke into my thoughts as they tossed a coin for the one remaining deviled egg. Laine won. She bit off half and handed James the other half.
He grinned. “Aw, thanks … I think I’ll marry you.”
“Not in this lifetime,” she said.
“Then I shall hang myself from that old Saguaro over there.”
“That would be hard to do but I’ll be glad to help pull the chair out from under you.”
The barbecue, I felt, had given us all a false sense of continuation. We are, after all, the seekers of the Lost Tribe of Amazons and that will never end, will it? We will always be The Seekers, won’t we?