A Soldier Saved--A Clean Romance

by Cheryl Harper

  Angela took a calming breath. “I certainly don’t have any problem hearing you because you are shouting in my ear, Greer Elizabeth Simmons.”

  Greer didn’t groan this time, but there was a distinct edge in her tone when she said, “Sorry.”

  Silence pulsed on the call while Angela tried to craft an answer to Greer’s passionate speech. Her dismissal of Angela’s concern as “feminist girl power” stuff was irritating, even if Angela was glad her daughter knew her own strength.

  Fun. What sixteen-year-old kid wondered if their mother was having any fun?

  “Sure, I have fun.” She wouldn’t mention loving her job. Greer knew that already.

  Angela flipped through the junk mail on the counter and racked her brain to find an answer. She’d done too good a job at teaching Greer to take care of others. It had come back to bite her.

  Her visit to the marina had worked to dispel some of Greer’s worry and to give her own spirits a boost. What other activity could she toss out to appease Greer? Parasailing immediately popped up, but there was no way she was doing that alone.

  The longer she stood there, the harder it was to think of anything other than parasailing. In every image in her mind, she wasn’t alone. Jason Ward was her partner in adventure.

  The postcard at the bottom of the pile caught her eye. A Cuban food festival in Little Havana. Surely she was brave enough to park her car, find something to eat and take some photos. Would it be enough?

  Worth a shot. “What I’m getting from this conversation is that I need to share more with you and with the world via social media about how I’m spending my time. That must be the measuring stick. I’ve been craving a Cuban sandwich. Remember that place we visited when you were here? The one that was voted number one in Miami?”

  “Yeah. It was in a strip mall or something and you did not want to go in,” Greer answered.

  But she hadn’t backed down. Her daughter and her daughter’s opinion had always mattered more than her own fears. “So the atmosphere wasn’t what I expected. That sandwich? So very good.” If she’d read the menu before she and Greer had stopped in, Angela might have hesitated to order the special—she was known in Nashville as a picky eater. But she hadn’t, and when her sandwich had arrived, piled high with roast pork and good things, Angela had taken one look at Greer’s dubious face and dived in.

  Angela hadn’t forgotten that sandwich since, and the longer she thought about it, the better her idea seemed.

  “I’ll be sure to post photos far and wide, baby. You stop worrying. Enjoy every minute of this summer. It is filled with good things that you will want to remember. Worrying about me? That’s going to rob you of the joy, so don’t do it. We are both exactly where we need to be right now.” Angela sighed. “And the next time you go dress shopping with Kate, text me photos. I have no idea what to wear to a yacht wedding, and I don’t want to show up in my bathing suit if everyone else is in formal wear.”

  Greer’s laughter was sweet. Such a relief. “You in a bathing suit? Never gonna happen, and definitely not when there’s a photographer around. I hoped you might change your mind about water when you moved to the beach, but...” Her silence shouted “just saying” clearly.

  “It’s the sand that bothers me, not the water.” Although, to be fair, deep, dark water was another issue. Bathtubs she was okay with.

  “You get to painting. Send me pictures. I’ll be sure to post photos of the food festival.” Angela waited patiently until Greer agreed and vanished from the call. She was worried. She was also a teenage girl with a limited attention span.

  Angela pushed her phone across the counter and studied the postcard. “At least it isn’t parasailing.”

  Without worrying about all the obstacles, although parking and not knowing much about Little Havana came to mind, Angela slipped on her sandals and grabbed her keys. She was committed. Greer would be expecting photos.

  The drive was quick, and before she was prepared, Angela had squeezed her car into a parking spot three streets over from what appeared to be the epicenter of the festival, Domino Park. People spilled off the sidewalks here and there, and music filled the air. If she’d wanted a party, she’d found it. To be safe, Angela sprayed a cloud of sunscreen over herself, paid the parking meter and assessed her options. Food trucks lined the street she was on and the smells were delicious.

  Since it was still early, she decided to move closer to the park. The day she and Greer had passed by, it was a shady oasis. Small groups were clustered around tables, but it had been peaceful. Today, it was filled with people of all shapes, sizes and ages. There was a small stage off to one side. Angela managed to catch a toddler who was heading for a run-on collision with her knee and waved off the mother’s grateful thanks. Greer had always been the same. Once she had a goal in mind, she put her head down and moved, no matter all the tripping obstacles in the way.

  The reminder of her daughter was a good reason to pull out her phone. She took a picture of the crowd and pondered what to post for entirely too long. That could be the problem. If she’d post the photo instead of giving up when she couldn’t come up with clever words, the pictures could speak for themselves. Once she’d satisfied her own photo requirement, Angela moved closer to one of the groups to watch a game of dominoes in progress. Intent on the action and trying to understand the rules, Angela moved too close to the person standing next to her. As she turned to apologize, she realized she was standing next to Jason Ward’s mother. Since the woman was paying no attention to her, Angela craned her neck left and right to find Jason.

  “He’s parking. Dropped me off so he didn’t have to listen to my directions. I don’t know if he’ll ever find a spot for that big ol’ truck. I told him my convertible was a better choice, but he doubted my parking ability.” She scoffed. How had she guessed Angela was hunting for Jason?

  “Angela, isn’t it? Is it all right if I call you that? ‘Doctor’ seems so fussy between friends. And you better call me Mae. Don’t try anything else, you hear?” She tapped her straw hat down as if that was that and everything was settled.

  “I can’t decide if Miami is the smallest big town in the world or...” Angela wasn’t going to say it.

  “Ha, it’s almost as if the universe wants you and Jason to run into each other.” His mother’s eyes were wide and innocent. Angela had a feeling if anyone wanted them to run into each other, it wasn’t the universe. “You do not know how long I had to talk to that boy to get him out here. Used every trick I had and finally he decided he could stand to have one of those Cuban pastries I brought him. I came down last weekend. Less crowded, and I had the best little bites of guava and cream cheese treats. The boy fairly lit up at the suggestion.” She shook her head. “What is it they say about the way to a man’s stomach?”

  “It’s his heart, Mama, not his stomach. Nobody wants to claim a man’s stomach, trust me.” Jason stood behind them, one corner of his mouth turned up. “Are you two in this together somehow?”

  Mae slapped a hand across her chest. “I am scandalized you would suggest such a thing. This is pure coincidence, a meeting of adventurous people who refuse to meld to the couch on Saturday. This is what you would have missed if I’d let you get away with it. Angela and I are adventurous women who know what is up.” She waved a hand toward Angela like she was displaying top prize on a game show. “You are welcome.”

  Before Jason could say anything to that, one of the older gentlemen at the table asked if anyone wanted to learn to play, and Mae whipped around, threw her hand in the air and jumped up and down for good measure. When he pointed at her and motioned her forward, she yelled, “Meet you back here in an hour. Do not stand around.” She didn’t turn to verify that Jason accepted her orders. Instead, Mae plunged through the noisy crowd and slipped into a spot at the table.

  Angela watched Jason decide whether he was going to do as he’d been told
. He shifted back and forth on his feet. Even in the midday heat, he’d gone with crisp jeans and a button-down.

  “At this point, she won’t know if you ignore her orders just to prove you can. She’s preoccupied. Why don’t we go find food and hunt up a bench?” Angela studied his face while she waited. He was more relaxed than when they’d first met but still entirely too serious for a Saturday.

  “Good idea. Those pastries are the only reason I’m here. Restaurant or food truck? Easy or exciting?” Jason asked, a half step closer to the food trucks than the last time she’d noticed his stance.

  “I’m supposed to be coming up with an exciting life for social media. Food trucks.” Angela shifted closer to him as a large group of people speaking Spanish swept through the crowd. The little girl she’d caught before they both had big bruises was riding on the shoulders of her father while her mother gestured toward the food trucks.

  Jason placed a hand in the middle of Angela’s back and everything in the world became sharper, clearer.

  “I don’t want to lose you,” he said close to her ear. “Not in this crowd.” Then he followed in the wake of the family ahead of them, his hand an anchor connecting the two of them. When they made it to the long line of trucks, he said, “This could take a while.” The crowd milled in and out.

  “What if we split up?” Angela asked, determined not to put anything extra on his touch. At some point, the crowd would clear out and he’d step back and everything would be normal. “I’ll grab two Cubanos, and you choose the pastries.”

  She craned her neck to see over the crowd. Away from the domino tables and the pedestrian area, along the edge of the tiny park with a view of nothing special, were benches scattered in the shade of a huge banyan tree. “And we’ll meet at the benches over there.” She needed to focus on her sandwich. That was why she wanted to find another bench, not because it would be an opportunity to talk with Jason again. Of course. There couldn’t be anything between them because he was a student. One who wrote things she enjoyed reading, but that was all. For now.

  “Good plan.” The slide of his hand across her back stopped her breath, and when he stepped away, everything dimmed.

  “Not great, Angela,” she muttered to herself. She refused to think about what all that might mean as she stood in the longest line for a sandwich. She trusted other people to lead her to the best sandwich. While she waited, she tried to come up with safe topics to cover. His writing, which they’d covered pretty well already, and...

  The person in front of her stepped away and it was time to order. “What’s the best sandwich you have? I need two of them.”

  The young woman tipped her head sideways and then shook it. She turned to yell, “Dos Calle Ochos, por favor.” Then she held out her hand. “That’ll be fifteen dollars.”

  Angela did not argue. She handed over her card, took it back and moved swiftly to the side when the woman pointed toward the second window. Where she would wait. Obviously.

  By the time her order landed in the window, Angela was sorry she hadn’t also ordered a couple of drinks. Fingers crossed that Jason would think more clearly, she took the wrapped sandwiches. When the second young woman in the truck hollered at her, Angela turned back, and two bottles of water were thrust in her direction. Angela took them gratefully and headed for the park.

  Jason had already claimed one of the benches. If she had to guess, she’d say he had also dipped into the bulging bag at his side while he waited—flakes of pastry dotted the sidewalk at his feet. “I was starting to worry you’d made a run for it.” He took a water from her and then one of the wrapped sandwiches. “Or got a better offer like you did the last time.”

  Angela frowned as she positioned her food and drink carefully. “Better offer? What happened last time?”

  “The captain.” Jason fluttered his eyelashes.

  “He’s really in your head, isn’t he?” Angela asked. “To keep you up to date, there have been no calls or texts exchanged and he also occupies too much space in my daughter’s head.” It could be a real problem.

  “And don’t forget your ex. He brought the guy up on the phone call.” Jason took a big bite of his sandwich, paused and then closed his eyes. “Oh my. Delicious.”

  So that captain was occupying space in everyone’s brain except hers.

  Jason’s mention of her ex-husband was irritating. It reminded her that Rodney was taking up valuable real estate in her own mind.

  Neither one of them spoke as they ate. The sandwich was as good as the one she’d had at Miami’s number one Cuban bakery, but the atmosphere was so much better. From where they sat, she could hear conversation in English and Spanish, guitar and violin music coming from different directions, and birds and a light breeze stirring the branches of the trees in the park. Even the shaded heat and humidity of their bench was right. It all fitted.

  “Almost like we’ve left Florida for someplace new, right?” Jason asked as he balled up the wrapper. “That was delicious. If I have to tell my mother she was right again, at least I’ll have eaten well.”

  “Mothers enjoy it when their kids say ‘you were right,’ so you’ll be making her week.” Angela crossed one leg over the other and tapped her foot to the song that existed only in her head. “Never argue with your mother.”

  He sipped his water. “She’s on a roll of being right lately.”

  Angela chewed the last bite of her perfect sandwich and then washed it down. “And it burns, huh?”

  He sighed and draped his arm along the back of the bench, his thumb brushing the bare skin of Angela’s arm.

  “I might be coming around to the same realization about my daughter.” Angela shook her head. “And it burns. At least your mother has the wisdom of age on her side. My daughter...” She couldn’t even come up with the words to express it.

  “She sounded smart on the phone, and her face is a copy of yours. I expect she’ll be right a lot in her life.” Jason stretched out his legs.

  “She is. It’s just...” Angela balled up the paper in her hand. “Did you ever worry that your mother wasn’t having enough fun?”

  He grunted. “You’ve met my mother, right? No doubt she’s found her element.” Mae Ward was probably the undefeated domino queen now.

  “I mean when you were a kid. Did you ever worry your mother should be doing more for fun? The thought never crossed my mind.” It hadn’t. Why would it have?

  “Well, no, it never did. I enlisted without a single worry about what it would do to my mother. No guilt then, but boy, I’m dealing with it now. Greer’s ahead of schedule. Could be good for both of you. Less therapy in the future.”

  “Right now, it’s too much pressure for me,” Angela said and held a hand to her chest. “I’m starting to wonder if I should hire an adventure coach. You heard that phone call. No one has high expectations for my ability to keep up with all the events at this wedding.”

  “But you want to prove them all wrong.” Jason sipped his water. “Or at least the ex-husband.”

  Angela turned her head slowly. “You don’t have any exes hanging around that know how to push all the wrong buttons?” Because his comment had sounded a bit judgmental.

  He pointed at her. “Valid point. I’ve never been married. I’ve only been close once. When it came down to leaving home, she couldn’t do it and I couldn’t stay. What do I know about buttons?”

  “Hmm. Falling in love is easy. Keeping it takes work.” The music drifted between them, and his acknowledgment was enough to soothe her irritation.

  “We’ve already got to go parasailing to make your mother happy. Want to be my adventure coach? My guide?” Angela asked before she thought better of it. “I’m guessing skydiving, bungee jumping, rock climbing... Those are nothing to a soldier.” And he’d have to physically catch her and strap her into the harness to get her rock climbing, but she wasn’t going
to mention that.

  “Why does ‘guide’ make me think of uniforms and learning to make fires to earn badges? People talk about skydiving as if it’s hard.” Jason shook his head. “It’s one step. Then you just fall. Falling is easy.”

  “But you’ve got to stick the landing...or else,” Angela drawled. His chuckle sent that fizzy spark through her. She was the funniest woman in the world at that moment.

  “Yeah. There’s a metaphor there.” He straightened his leg and his face tightened.

  “Okay, is that a yes to skydiving, then?” Angela asked, even though she was nearly certain there was no way either of them were going to jump out of a plane for fun.

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to find a date to the wedding?” Jason asked.

  “In the short term? Yes, it would be easier. I know the perfect guy.” Angela paused when she realized what she’d said. When Greer had first demanded she do that, Angela couldn’t have named one possible option. Now there was no question who she’d ask. She could do it right this second.

  “But this whole ‘worrying about Mom’ problem needs a better solution, I guess.” Jason waved a hand. “You made it here without any coaching. You’re doing fine. No coach needed.”

  A soft no to her proposition, then. He wouldn’t be joining her for adventures. Fine. Some of the sparkle of the afternoon dimmed.

  Jason offered her his bag of pastries with one hand. “Try this.”