Glancing at the clock, he found he’d used a full fifteen minutes just getting the table set. Walt stood back. The table looked fancy, but the brightly lit kitchen distracted from the cozy feeling he was going for.
He needed a candle for romantic lighting, but being an old bachelor, he never kept candles around. He had flashlights for power outages. Walt rested his weight through his arms on the walker. His hip did ache; he had overdone today.
He didn’t have time to bring a table lamp in for dim lighting. Walt scanned the room, then smiled. Would Lil give him points for creativity? He pushed her machine closer to the place settings and turned it on.
Then he walked to the kitchen light switch and flicked it off. The machine’s light gave a soft glow to the table, and the crystal wineglasses sparkled. Just the setting he’d wanted to create because Lil deserved to be pampered. A Rose of Sharon.
Walt stood at attention when the door buzzer sounded. Was it a guest or the pizza delivery person?
“Hello.” Lil’s voice rumbled through his home. “Just a minute and I’ll get my purse.”
The pizza had arrived. Walt had expected them to deliver to the back door, not the office. He pushed his walker and stepped as fast as his sore hip allowed. He wasn’t sure where Lil’s purse was, but he was paying for this date.
Nerves shot small jolts of electric current through his body, weakening his limbs at the thought. He hadn’t dated since the mid-1970s. He gave up because the women he went out with couldn’t hold a candle to Nancy.
Walt tried to herd up his rampaging emotions as he hurried through the living room, almost mowing Lil down with his walker.
“Where you going in such a rush?” Lil sidestepped just before the front bar of the walker bumped into her. “I told you to stay put.”
With a clear path, Walt kept pushing the walker forward. “I’m going to pay for the pizza.”
“I was getting my purse to do just that. Now you go back into the kitchen and rest. Come on.”
Walt stopped at the sound of Lil’s retreating footsteps. She’d ruin the surprise if she went in now. He wanted to see her face soften and her pretty green eyes sparkle with appreciation, just like they had when she’d seen the table setting the day he’d made the tea party.
“No, Lil. You come with me.”
Lil spun around, eyes wide at the commanding tone Walt used.
At least he got her attention. Although, by her stern look, it appeared he might be getting a lecture.
“Please?”
She frowned, opened her mouth, then snapped her jaw closed but held it tight as she walked toward him and followed him into the office.
Once he’d paid and chitchatted with the deliveryman, Lil started for the kitchen with the pizza box.
“Just a minute, Speedy. I need to go first.”
Lil stopped and turned. “Why?”
“My legs feel a little weak, so it’d be best if you follow me.” His legs were weak—not from today’s exertions but from tonight’s anticipation of a first date with Lil.
“I knew you had overdone today when you started limping. Just because you started feeling better doesn’t mean you can resume normal activities. It takes time for your body to heal.” Lil brought up the rear of their short parade to the kitchen. “Besides, how am I supposed to help you, carrying a pizza box?”
“Guess you’d have to drop it on the floor.” Walt fought back the snicker in his voice.
“Why’s it so dark in here…”
Lil’s voice trailed off as Walt moved to the side, allowing her a clear view of the kitchen table.
“Surprise.”
Lil’s mouth gaped, her face void of expression.
This might have been a mistake. Walt sucked his pursed lips in and out. Lil was a hard woman to read.
She looked from Walt to the table and back again. “What is all of this?”
Walt’s heart pattered as Lil’s eyes softened. The corners of her lips quivered.
“Our first date—that is, if you’ll do me the honor of having dinner with me.” Like a maître d’ ushering her to a reserved table, Walt bowed a little and held a hand toward the dinette set.
The pizza box twitched from the tremble in Lil’s hand as she nodded acceptance to Walt’s invitation.
Speechless. Lil was speechless. This was a first and another unreadable sign. Was that good or bad?
She set the pizza box on the table.
“Before you sit down, would you mind getting the ginger ale out of the fridge?”
Lil gave her head a shake and headed in the direction of the refrigerator.
“I tried bringing it to the table, but it’s too bulky for me to carry with this contraption.” He lifted the walker.
Lil’s head popped up from retrieving the soda. “You need that contraption. Look what happened this afternoon. Walt, you haven’t found your new center of balance yet.”
Speechless didn’t last long.
“I know. I was just saying.” Walt stood beside Lil’s chair. “Set that on the table. I’ll pour it later.” He really did need to sit down for a while.
To his surprise, Lil didn’t argue or fuss. She placed the bottle on the table, smiled at him, then sat down. He guided the back of her chair as she helped by scooting it under the table.
“Thank you.” Every etching in her face shone with happiness.
“So I take it you’ve accepted my invitation to a dinner date.” Walt gave her a wide smile as he poured the soda into the glasses before sitting down.
“I figured that any man who could create a mood using the light on a sewing machine didn’t deserve to be turned down.” Lil placed her napkin in her lap and reached toward the pizza box.
“Allow me.” Walt lifted the lid then pulled out a slice of pizza.
Lil held her plate up to accept her portion.
After Walt plated the pizza, he reached for Lil’s hand.
“Let’s give thanks.”
Grasping Walt’s hand, Lil bowed her head. The softness of her hand melted into Walt’s palm. The fit of their hands was in perfect partnership, hers not small and lost in the expanse of his, but holding its own against his strength.
“Dear Father, thank You for providing Lil with quick response times, protecting me from near disaster, again. Be with us during the coming week and help us bring comfort to Sam’s family. Thank You for this nourishment, the teamwork of the Joy group at church, and for a new friend I’ve found in Lil. Amen.”
Without thinking, Walt brought Lil’s hand to his mouth. His lips brushed against the silkiness of her hand.
His gesture surprised Lil. Her sharp intake of breath ended in a squeak that echoed through the silent kitchen. Walt smiled before he turned her hand over and planted a longer, deeper kiss in her palm, hoping it would take root and linger there before he released it.
“Walt.” Lil’s voice was soft, almost shy. “We can’t do this. I’m your nurse.”
“This world is too politically correct for me, Lil. I think you’re special and I want you to know it. People meet in all kinds of ways. My needing care after surgery was our way.” Walt wagged his index finger in the air between the two of them.
“The first day I walked through that door”—Lil looked past him to the back entry—“I’d have never pegged you for a romantic.” Lil revealed a shy smile.
Walt shrugged. “If doing something nice for you, Lil, is being a romantic, then I guess I am.”
When Lil’s eyes locked on his, Walt’s heart hitch-stepped. A trace of sorrow filtered through the shine coming from her eyes.
“What is it, Lil?”
She cleared her throat. “Nothing, Walt. Our pizza’s getting cold. Let’s eat our dinner.”
They chewed for a few silent moments.
“Walt, you did use your walker to set the table, didn’t you?” Lil lifted her glass.
“Yes.” Was that what was worrying her? “I learned my lesson this afternoon.” He went to take a drin
k.
“Don’t drink that yet.” Lil pursed her lips like Walt could read her mind. “I’d like to make a toast.”
She sure can go from shy to bossy fast. Walt grinned at his thought.
“What?” Lil’s gaze bored into him.
“Nothing. I’m just having a good time.”
Lil grinned. “Me, too. To health and happiness.” She moved her glass toward his, the tinkling sound dancing through the kitchen.
“This is real crystal. I’d know that sound anywhere.” Lil sipped her ginger ale.
“My mother had expensive taste and she entertained a lot. My father was a doctor. Mom’s occupation was community service organizations. What did your parents do?”
“Dad drove a gravel truck. Mom ran the household and took care of Lily and me.”
Walt served them each another slice of pizza. “Lil, what’s your real name?”
She pursed her lips and stared down at her plate.
“It can’t be that bad.”
“Well, suffice it to say, I never liked my name the way Lily liked hers. Although there was a short time in the sixties when I liked it because it fit in with the peace move—”
Lil stopped short then filled her mouth with pizza like she was trying to hold her words in.
Walt’s glasses slipped down his nose a little as he scrunched his face. “The make-love-not-war peace movement?” He snorted. “Surely Lil can’t be short for Sunshine or Rainbow.”
Sheepishness crossed over Lil’s features as she took a sip of soda. After swallowing, she cleared her throat. “Close.”
Walt leveled a look at her.
“Okay, I’ll tell you. My grandma, the one that made the quilts, was named Daisy. My mother’s name was Iris. My sister’s name is Lily. Do you see where I’m going with this?” Lil raised her eyebrows.
“You’re named after a flower? But lily is the only flower that starts out with l-i-l.”
“No, lily is the only flower that uses the short vowel sound. I’m named after the flower that uses the long vowel sound.”
Walt scowled as he racked his brain, searching for flower names that began with l-i-l.
Lil lifted her empty plate. “You were mistaken the other day, Walt. I don’t have a lilac quilt because I like lilacs. I have a lilac quilt because my grandmother made us quilts that represented our names.”
“Your name is Lilac?” Walt was immediately sorry for the disbelief he heard in his voice.
Hands in pockets, Lil pulled her jacket close in an attempt to seal out the chilly night air. She should have buttoned it, but it’d been a long day and she just wanted out of Walt’s house. She wanted out of the close proximity that stirred up both of their feelings. She wanted out of this assignment. No, needed out of this assignment.
Why hadn’t she called Tiffany back? She sighed as she unlocked the camper door. She liked spending time with Walt. In two short weeks they’d begun stitching together the snippets of their lives, time and events overlapping and being appliquéd into their hearts, just like the small fabric pieces that created the pattern of her Rose of Sharon quilt.
She knew now it was time for love to awaken. She didn’t believe in coincidence. That replica flour sack material and Mark’s knowing about the Lily of the Field quilt—they were God-given incidences.
But surely God didn’t want Lil and Walt together. A war protestor and a soldier? A traveler and a homebody? A loner and a socialite?
Well, maybe Walt couldn’t be classified as a socialite, but he was active in his community, something that she’d shied away from all these years.
Entering the camper, she secured the door and lifted the walkie-talkie from the counter. A flick of the knob gave a static hello. She pressed the button.
“Walt.”
“Lilac.”
She shivered at the husky way her name rolled from Walt’s lips through the air waves. It sounded pretty when he said it. Made her feel special.
“I’m in the camper, safe and sound. Good night.”
“The pain reliever’s working. My hip stopped throbbing.”
Lil collapsed on her sofa. “I’m glad. Now get some rest.”
“I really enjoyed our evening together.”
Could the man not take a hint? She needed time alone. Time to think things through.
The beep-pop of her walkie-talkie cut through the silence of her camper. “Lil, are you there?”
“Yes.” She released the button and lowered the device. The man needed a cell phone.
“You have very soft hands.”
She closed her eyes as a soft tingle started where Walt’s able lips touched her palm, the tickle of his coarse mustache adding to the pleasure.
Lifting the walkie-talkie to her mouth, she pressed the button. “Thank you, Walt. For everything. I can’t imagine a better first date.”
Lil dropped the walkie-talkie in her lap then rested her elbow on the sofa arm and rubbed her temples, knowing the conversation wasn’t close to being over. Her heart skittered at the thought; her head, not so much.
“When I get rid of this walker, I’m taking you out on the town, a real dinner date and maybe a movie. Or we could take in a museum. Sioux Falls has some interesting ones, and end the day with a nice intimate dinner. Would you like that, Lil?”
Yes! Her heart screamed its response. Luckily it didn’t have control of her vocal cords.
When Walt got rid of his walker, a yellow pickup with a fifth wheel would be tearing down the interstate to Texas.
“Lil?”
She couldn’t dash the hope in his voice. She lifted the walkie-talkie and pushed in the button to talk. “Both of those sound very nice.”
“Good…” Static blared, cutting off some of Walt’s words.
“Walt, something’s interfering.”
“I said we can talk about it tomorrow or the day after that. Make some concrete plans.”
“Okay. Walt, you’d better get some rest tonight if you want to get rid of the walker.”
“Sorry, Lil. Guess I’m kind of wound up.”
Car lights flashed past the camper. Lil lifted her blinds and watched a caravan of vehicles parade by.
“Walt, your guests are here. Just warning you in case you hear noises. Don’t get up to investigate.”
“Okay. They promised not to bother me unless it was an emergency.”
The noise after Walt’s statement sounded suspiciously like a yawn, his nighttime pain reliever finally kicking in.
“You’d better get some rest. I’ll be over early to put the breakfast casserole in the oven.” Lil hoped this would end the conversation.
“I miss you, Lil.”
Walt’s voice, so full of sincerity, melted Lil’s heart. “I miss you, too. Now get some rest.” Lil flicked the button on her walkie-talkie, expecting that to end the conversation.
“Good night, Lil.” Walt’s voice was thick and groggy as he started dropping off to sleep. “Your name might be Lilac, but you’re my Rose of Sharon.”
Chapter 8
Running a hotel was harder work than treating life-threatening injuries in the emergency room. Of course, Lil was used to the latter type of work.
The last few days ran together in a blur. Heat up breakfast, put the food out, make coffee, visit, greet the church ladies, make more coffee, start the laundry, fold the laundry and put it away, prepare lunch and dinner. All the while keeping a sharp eye on Walt to make sure that his balance was steady, that he didn’t overdo, and that he used his walker.
Lil flopped down in a chair beside Walt in the laundry room. Today was even more hectic as they tried to get laundry folded before it was time for Walt to get ready for the funeral.
“I really wish you’d come.” Walt smoothed out a towel on the table, halved it, tri-folded it, and flopped it on top of the stack.
“Walt, I didn’t know Sam.”
“I know, but you have met his kids and grandkids. Besides”—Walt sniffed—“I need you there for mor
al support.”
Lil knew this was hard on Walt. It was their age. Friends or loved ones passing on made you consider your own mortality. Wonder how many years you had left. If you’d beat the odds and live past the projected age of insurance life-expectancy tables.
She snapped a towel through the air, grabbed up the corners, and in one fluid motion folded it to match Walt’s.
Sam’s children were a testament to the kind of man he’d been, a true reflection of kids honoring their father and mother. The only noise they made was when they visited at breakfast. The church ladies couldn’t believe how well they kept their rooms, all amid their grieving.
When the buzzing of a finished cycle on the dryer cut through her thoughts, she rose and removed the warm towels, piling them on the table in front of Walt.
He reached for her hand and laced his fingers in hers. “Please?” Eyes filled with sorrow, Walt searched her face.
Compassion turned her heart into a ball of cotton and overruled her mind’s reasoning. Lil nodded. “I’ll go.”
The two of them had the towels folded in record time. Lil gathered the piles up, the residual warmth from the dryer soaking through the thin knit of her turtleneck.
She found Walt locking the front door of the office.
“All of the businesses are closing down during the time of Sam’s funeral.” He scooted the walker toward the living room. His overalls strap fell off of his shoulder, exposing more of his brown henley shirt. He stopped and pushed the strap back into place with his thumb.
“You’ve been fighting that strap all morning. Why don’t you just tighten it?” Lil worked out the twist in the denim from his last adjustment.
“It’s as tight as it can go.” Walt turned to show Lil. “I’ve lost some weight. Must be from all of that healthy eating we’ve been doing.”
Lil harrumphed and looked down at her own frame. “Men. You’re so lucky. It’s not doing me any good.”
“Well, your body is used to eating that stuff. Besides, you look good just the way you are.”
Dakota Love Page 39