by Jaime Maddox
“Excuse me,” she said to the crowd, avoiding Gianna’s gaze. “I need to use the restroom.”
She was directed to the pool house—set aside for the female partygoers—and prayed Gianna wouldn’t follow. She was tremendously relieved when she didn’t. Ward emerged a few minutes later to find the hordes of guests migrating toward the softball field, where preparations had begun for the fireworks display. During the course of the dinner discussion, it had grown dark enough for the show, and Ward understood that Judi liked to end the fireworks at a reasonable hour, since so many of her guests would have to be at work in the hospital early the next day.
The table where she’d been sitting was now vacant, and Ward was relieved. She’d had a long day, and if the fireworks display wasn’t imminent, she might have skipped it altogether.
But.
Here she was, on a warm, clear, gorgeous summer night, and could think of no better way to fill the remaining hours of her day.
She glanced around and grabbed a fresh water from one of the many ice-filled tubs scattered around, and then, instead of joining the masses, she walked in the other direction, toward the mountains and the fruit trees at their base. She kept her head down as she followed a stone pathway, careful not to trip on the uneven surface in the near darkness. Just as she reached the stone bench beneath the tree, the crunching sound of footsteps startled her. She looked up to see someone approaching. She couldn’t discern any features from a dozen feet away, but the approaching shape was unmistakably feminine, with wavy hair that met the tops of her narrow shoulders, and a small, thin frame that was curvy in all the right places.
“Oh,” a light, female voice said as she noticed Ward, and Ward could hear the surprise. The stranger was just as startled as she was.
“I’m sorry,” Ward said, with a hint of laughter in her voice. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” It was sort of comical, though, to nearly run into another human being in such a deserted place in the near darkness. And then she added, “I didn’t realize this tree was taken.”
The stranger overcame her shock and apparently also found the humor in their situation. “Well, I did have a reservation, but since my date didn’t show up, I’d be happy to share my bench with you. There’s a perfect view from here, and it’s not quite as loud as it is by the softball field.”
The stranger sat and patted the bench beside her.
“So, I guess you’ve been here before?” Ward asked as she took the proffered seat.
The stranger laughed, a deep chuckle that suggested a long story was meant to accompany her answer. Ward found herself waiting, eager to hear the tale. She was disappointed by the stranger’s simple reply. “Yes. Many, many times. How about you?”
“First time,” Ward confessed. “First time I’ve seen fireworks in years.” She didn’t go into detail, didn’t explain about her strange job that didn’t end on holidays, or the hassle of fighting traffic to see a fireworks display in the city.
The stranger was polite enough not to ask questions but instead patted Ward softly on the shoulder. Her voice was like a caress in the darkness. “You’re in for a special treat, then.”
“Yeah?”
The stranger cleared her throat. “Oh, yeah. Judi goes all out for this. The guys who do the show are pros.”
Ward leaned back and slid down, slowly stretching her legs in front of her as she rested her head against the back of the bench. She turned to face the stranger. Now that her eyes had adjusted, she could see her features more clearly. The wavy hair was one length, tucked behind the ears at the moment, but only because she persistently redirected the strays that managed to escape. Her eyes were fair, like her hair, and her nose was long and straight, with a small bump at the bridge that looked invitingly kissable. As did her full lips, which were parted at the moment. The sight of them caused Ward to suck in a breath, which seemed obnoxiously loud in the quiet beneath their tree. A softly curving chin led into a long neck, partially hidden now by the hair that seemed to have a life of its own.
Lovely, Ward thought. This woman is lovely.
Ms. Lovely seemed to sense Ward staring at her, and she herself turned, pulling a leg beneath her on the bench as she pushed another stray lock behind her ear.
Their eyes met, and Ward could feel them searching hers. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” they seemed to ask.
“Well, thanks for sharing your bench. I’m Ward, by the way.”
Ward could see the smile spread across the woman’s face, and she imagined a twinkle in the eyes. “Abby. Nice to meet you,” and the eyes held for just a moment longer than necessary before Abby turned back toward the distant sky.
“So was it a man or a woman?” Ward asked, not believing her boldness. Ten minutes earlier she’d practically ran away from Gianna for her brazen behavior, and here she was doing much the same thing. She couldn’t help it though. Something had drawn her to this place, and she might just have found someone to help take her mind off Jess. The question came out before she even knew she’d been thinking it.
“Excuse me?” Abby asked.
And now Ward had an excuse, an opportunity to run away from a potentially embarrassing situation. For her, if the woman was straight. For both of them if she wasn’t. Fresh from the sting of Jess, though, Ward didn’t take the easy way out. If she wanted to meet women, what better place than at a fireworks display? What a story that would be, years later, when people asked how they’d met! And so she asked again. “Your date. The one who didn’t show up, leaving room on this bench for me. Was it a man, or a woman?”
Abby seemed to study her in the darkness, her eyes burning a path toward Ward’s mouth, down her neck to the curve of her breasts, along the flat plane of her stomach, and all the way down her legs to the toes sticking out at the bottom of her sandals. Ward sensed the answer coming but, instead, heard the distant whistle as the first firework was launched. Ward turned and caught the streaming light of the missile as it shot up from the ground and exploded in a burst of white, lighting both the sky and the earth. Each tiny burst of light exploded yet again, and each daughter danced her way back to the earth, melting into the darkness along the way.
“Wow,” Ward said. “That was just like Disney World.” Before Abby could reply, another missile was launched into the darkness, and the explosion colored a large swath of sky red. Abby hadn’t been kidding when she said this was professionally staged.
They sat side by side, commenting on the magnificence as each new display seemed more beautiful than the one before it. “Ooooh,” Abby said as a green, fuzzy light filled the sky.
“Aaah,” Ward responded.
And then they looked at each other and said, simultaneously, “Wow!” and burst into laughter.
Before the next display began, Abby spoke. “So did you crash the party, or did you get an actual invitation?”
Ward could tell Abby was teasing and decided to play along. “Caught me! I was just driving along and saw all the balloons out front, and I figured with all those cars, no one would even notice me. So I grabbed a burger and a beer and snuck back here, and well, you know the rest.”
Again, Abby responded with that deep, throaty chuckle that was like a song in Ward’s ears. “Well, as long as you stay away from the pasta salad, I won’t turn you in.”
“The salad with the blue cheese and olive oil?” Ward asked.
“That’s the one,” Abby said, a scornful look on her face.
The salad had been delicious. “It looked disgusting, really. Moldy. Are you sure you want to eat that stuff?”
“I’ll take my chances,” Abby proclaimed, and this time Ward laughed. It felt good, like seeing an old friend after a long absence. Not like laughing with Frieda, though. This was different. It was fun and…flirtatious. Ward swallowed hard at the realization.
“I like you, Abby,” she said, so softly she wasn’t sure she really spoke the words, instead of thinking them.
But Abby responded. “I bet you
say that to all the girls,” and their eyes met and held, again, for just a bit longer than innocence allowed. And even though her question about Abby’s date went unanswered, Ward suspected Abby preferred to spend her time in the company of women.
Another explosion happened in the sky, and her peripheral vision caught the shower of red rain, but Ward thought the sight before her was even more spectacular. The light from the fireworks bathed Abby in its warm glow, and Ward’s heart skipped a beat. She’d thought Abby attractive in the dark, but she was even more beautiful in the light. Perhaps it was the mischief in her eyes, or the smile that seemed to show off all thirty-two teeth, or the splendor of the night. Ward couldn’t say; she only knew that Abby was gorgeous and she hadn’t felt such an attraction in a long, long time.
“Oooh,” Abby said, still looking at the sky.
“Aaah,” Ward replied, looking at Abby.
And their eyes met again. “Wow!” they said softly.
Somewhere in the sky, the grand finale was happening with bursts of noise and color, but their eyes held as they studied each other, with only intermittent peeks at the spectacular display of fireworks. And then there was darkness, and applause replaced the thunder of the fireworks. People screamed, and clapped, and shouted, and landscaping lights came on all around the property, illuminating their hiding place.
On cue, Abby stood. Ward debated what to say as she stretched her legs and stood as well. She was tempted to ask for her number, but maybe this was just meant to be a magical moment in the darkness and nothing more. Besides, if she wanted to, in a few days, she could find the number from Judi. How many thirty-something gorgeous woman named Abby could there be in Factoryville, Pennsylvania, population three hundred?
Abby seemed to be waging the same debate as she turned and began walking back toward the house. “Well, party-crasher, it’s past my bedtime. Thanks for a lovely show.”
As they walked silently toward the house, Ward felt inexplicably happy. How could meeting a woman who she might never see again have that effect on her? Then she realized it didn’t really matter if she ever spoke to Abby again. They had shared a brief, beautiful moment. It was important that she’d talked to her tonight, that she’d felt an attraction, that she was alive. And if she could meet a beautiful, funny woman beneath a tree in the middle of a field in the darkness, there was hope for her still. She wouldn’t call Abby or ask Judi about her. What they’d shared was enough. It was a gift, the message to Ward that she was ready to move on. What a great gift that was.
Always the ER doc, Ward touched Abby’s shoulder. It was hot, the fabric of her shirt soft and comforting. “Drive carefully,” she said as she turned and followed the parade of headlights back to her car.
*
Abby stopped before she reached the crowd, watching Ward as she disappeared into the flow of pedestrian traffic heading back toward the road. Back toward reality. They’d shared a spectacular moment, but it was over, and although Abby had the resources to track down this woman and possibly pursue her, she wouldn’t. The spark between them had been totally unrelated to the fireworks, but if Ward had been interested, she wouldn’t have walked away. And Abby wasn’t desperate enough to resort to stalking women who weren’t interested. Yes, she was single. She wasn’t sure she wanted to change that status. Freedom was a wonderful state that allowed her to enjoy a spontaneous treat, a moment of magic under a tree in the night. If she had a girlfriend, she suspected the moment with Ward wouldn’t have happened.
Still, she couldn’t help wondering about the attractive newcomer. The only certainty was that Ward was new to the area. Abby had lived in Factoryville most of life, save for a decade in the middle carved out for graduate school and smoothing out the rough edges on her fledgling career. If Ward had ever stepped foot in town before, Abby would have known about it. She was definitely not a native.
Ward. First name, last name, nickname? The uncertainty would make it more difficult to track her down, if Abby were so inclined. Ward had walked away, and so would Abby. End of story.
But what was she doing here, this beautiful woman with a sense of humor and no date on the Fourth of July? Natural gas, probably. The business had doubled the population of Pennsylvania overnight, it seemed, and not all of them could live in the small towns where the gas wells were drilled. Especially not attractive women like Ward, who’d be natural targets for the scores of men lurking about. Better to drive a few miles to an upscale town like Factoryville where it was safe, where she could find restaurants and a grocery store and a quality dry cleaner’s. Yes, that had to be the answer. Ward was an engineer, or an attorney, working with a gas company. Perhaps she was a laborer, but Abby didn’t think so. She seemed too sophisticated.
Since she opposed gas drilling, she was now resigned to never trying to find out where Ward was living during her stay. That would only complicate matters. Still, they might be able to have some fun together, right?
Abby chastised herself for both the thoughts and the poor willpower that allowed them to continually resurface. It had been too long since she’d had sex, and that was her problem. Her last significant girlfriend had moved out of state with her company two years earlier, and in spite of a few lovers in the interim, she hadn’t had anyone substantial in her life. That meant infrequent sexual liaisons, and she was sure infrequent sexual liaisons caused everything from heart disease to cancer. She was destined to die young.
She was happy, though. Her life was good and exciting, even if she didn’t have one special woman to share it with. A cadre of friends was always available to travel or have dinner, hike or play golf. That was enough, right? It always had been, but as she searched the darkness that held the mysterious woman called Ward, she feared it wasn’t anymore.
Chapter Sixteen
Mass Casualties
“Excuse me?” Ward replied, sure she’d misheard the perky young ER nurse who’d grabbed her arm.
Shayna repeated herself, more slowly this time. “Twenty girls are coming in from one of the summer camps. There was a bat attack.”
Ward tried to keep her horror from showing on her face. It was her job to be strong, after all. She was the top-ranking staff member in the ER, and since it was Saturday, the day after the Fourth of July holiday, it was very likely she was the only doctor in this small community hospital. “Was it some sort of terrorist?” she asked, incredulous that someone would attack small children with a weapon like that.
Shayna looked at her as if she were speaking in tongues. “Huh?”
“The guy with the bat? Was he a nut job, or a terrorist, or what? Do they even know who it was?” Suddenly Ward was concerned. Would there be more attacks around the county? Would they have a mass casualty situation on their hands? Not that twenty patients wasn’t already a mass casualty.
Shayna broke into a fit of laughter, throwing back her head and holding onto the counter for support. “You’re funny!” she said as she walked away. Ward watched her for a moment, confused, then grabbed the first chart in the rack. She’d better get busy. If twenty trauma victims were arriving, the ER would soon be crazy.
After diagnosing a case of poison ivy, she emerged from a room to see the ER overrun by an army of pint-sized invaders, dressed in matching kelly-green T-shirts with an emblem for Camp Shickshinny across the chests. Because of all the camps in the Poconos, campers boosted the summer volume in the ER, and the green shirts were about the tenth different color she’d seen since arriving in Factoryville. They were usually in the ER for the trivial injuries their parents would have ignored but camp directors couldn’t take chances with. Judging by the noise level, that was probably the case now. None of them appeared to be seriously injured. Several adults tried unsuccessfully to herd them. Another woman, similarly clad but much older than the others, approached her.
“Are you the doctor?”
“Yes. I’m Dr. Thrasher.” Ward stood tall, sensing she’d need to.
“I’m the director of Camp Shicksh
inny. How long do you think this will take? We’re supposed to be going to Knoebel’s today, and we should be on the road already.”
Reflexively, Ward glanced at the large atomic clock on the wall. It was just after nine, and already the department was hopping. She’d seen half a dozen patients since her seven o’clock start, but four of them had been in the previous thirty minutes, and at last glance, she’d seen several additional charts in the rack. She began to mentally calculate how far behind she was before she realized she had no idea what the woman standing before her was talking about.
“I’m sorry,” Ward said, “but who are you?”
The woman tried unsuccessfully to cover her irritation. “Marsha Evans. Director of Camp Shickshinny. How long is this going to take?”
Ward tried to do a better job than Marsha Evans at concealing her frustration. The patient always comes first. That mantra had been drilled into her head since the first day of her residency, and no matter how rude or obnoxious they were, Ward had trained herself to ignore the demanding patients and focus instead on their issues. Issues were usually manageable. People weren’t. “I’m confused, Ms. Evans. What are you talking about?”
Marsha Evans threw her hands up in the air dramatically and shook her head. Ward imagined she was accustomed to getting her way, for her theatrics to draw some reaction. But Ward had trained in Philadelphia, and nothing anyone said or did surprised her. Marsha’s little display didn’t compare to some of the things she’d witnessed during her decade in the ER in the big city.
“I can’t believe this place!” the woman said. “Didn’t they tell you we were coming?”
Suddenly it dawned on Ward. “Are you the camp that had the bat attack?”
Marsha smiled. “Yes, that’s me. Can you take a look at this girl so we can get out of here?”
Frankie, the nurse manager, saved Ward from answering. “I’m going to triage your camper now, Mrs. Evans, and then the doctor will be right in.”