by Jean Oram
"If you've known since forever that accounting isn't for you, why did you wait until now?" Her anger and hurt took root and words flew from her mouth like they were jet-propelled. "Why not just dump the business and get it over with? Why not just give Ed your whole business! I thought you had respect and cared about others. I thought you were better than that. What kind of man strings along clients and then dumps them without warning after they've made a commitment?"
"I do have respect for people and I'm not dumping you." Oz grasped her shoulders and bent down so he could look her in the eye. "I'm doing this because I love and respect you. I need time to figure out how I can be the man I want to be, and the man you need me to be."
"Why can't you tell your dad you don't want the business? Why are you doing this?" She felt so weak and pathetic. She pulled her shoulders straight and put on an air of confidence she didn't feel. She had to be strong. Had to keep her pride.
"You've never had to tell your parents you hate the very thing they love after you've just spent the last few years of your life pretending it was your calling."
"Yeah, well I wish I'd had the opportunity." Tears blurred her vision and she stepped out onto the porch.
"Beth, I didn't mean it like that."
Her nose burned with unshed tears and at the bottom of the steps she turned and said, "I won't be at our Sunday coffee, Oz. I'm going to the city." By missing Sunday, she was going to have to go a week plus a couple of days until their next agreed check in. While it hurt to be away from him for that long, she couldn't help but hope that it would be even worse for him.
She slowly made her way to the car, misery clouding her vision of the way the earth was greening up, preparing for spring, the mountains glowing in the evening light. With shaking arms, she lowered the box into the back of the station wagon, her alarm clock tumbling out, jangling in protest. She turned to face Oz waiting for him to ask why she wouldn't be there. He stayed frozen to the spot at the top of the porch steps. His grip was tight on the railing, and he didn't speak or blink. She thought she may have seen him sway, but she couldn't be sure.
In a low voice he asked, "Are we doing the right thing?"
"Yes," she replied firmly, surprising herself. "If you're having doubts now, what's it going to be like in six months or a year? You need to fix whatever's giving you doubts, Oz. I can't..." She shook her head, holding back tears. "I just can't." She got in her car, her head still shaking. She had to get away before her resistance crumbled and she dove back into his arms only to find out later that he hadn't fixed whatever was bothering him about their relationship. If things were going to go south between them, it had to happen now. Not later when they had kids.
Chapter 4
Beth hunched over her upturned basket of music, and yawned as she matched cracked cases with their CDs. Sleeping on Katie's hide-a-bed was so not a good long-term where-am-I-going-to-live solution. Especially since Katie had just switched to night shifts which meant she was traipsing through the living room—aka Beth's new bedroom—at odd hours of the day and night.
But it was only for a short time. Oz had already expressed doubts the other night when she was packing, but she wasn't going to let him end their time apart prematurely. If he needed a break, he was getting a break. That man had to get his stuffing together, because if he didn't and she let him off early, they'd surely end in divorce. She wasn't going to let him toss the turkey in the oven until she was sure he had his stuffing together.
"Beth, dear?"
Beth looked up from her CDs at the elderly woman with flyaway hair. "Yes, Lauretta?"
"You know Wolf and I used to have fights. We always found the best way to work through those rifts was to stay together under the same roof and work through it." She reached into her mouth and adjusted her dentures. "You and Ozzie love each other very much. You can't let that kind of thing go."
"I'll take that into consideration. Thanks, Lauretta," Beth said, quickly matching up CDs and cases in order to escape before others gathered around to add their advice.
Footfalls lacking her patient's characteristic shuffle echoed across the large room and loafers stopped at the outskirts of her scattered music pile.
"Good morning, ma'am," said a deep voice. Beth looked up to see Nash nodding to Lauretta.
Lauretta gave him a slight nod and slipped away, calling out, "Remember Beth. Same roof. Happy together forever."
"Getting love advice, are you?"
Beth let out a half laugh. "Yep. Everyone has something to say. I didn't realize so many couples have had big fights. Blows my mind." She gave her head a slight shake, making her curls tumble over her shoulders. She flicked her hair back and accepted the cracked CD case Nash was passing her.
"Still using CDs? You could ask the acquisitions committee for an MP3 player. Convert this over to digital. Make some playlists."
Beth glanced up and was struck by the nearness of Nash's bright blue eyes. He smiled and she tried to ignore the extra heartbeat that thrummed inside her chest. Which was silly. It had only been days since Oz had asked for a break. She was in no position for heart thrills.
She obviously needed to get more sleep.
"I could help if you want," he offered.
"I already have an iPod. It doesn't work." Sometimes men didn't understand that old technology was easier, cheaper, and faster. And harder to lose.
"Oh. Uh, I was wondering... are you hungry?" He ran a hand through his perfectly groomed hair, each strand returning to its proper place. "I was angling to grab lunch before heading back to my clinic. Would you care to join me? A side of conversation with my cafeteria gruel always makes it more palatable."
She studied him through her lashes and stuffed a few CDs in the basket. He gave her a confident, disarming grin and waited.
"My treat. Simply sustenance and company." He handed her another CD.
"When?" Beth replied reluctantly. She tipped the Ella Fitzgerald CD into the basket, wanting to snap it in half as punishment for all the dance memories it brought back. Damn that Oz. She shoved the basket onto her cart and faced Nash.
"Now?" he asked, his eyebrows arching hopefully.
"Yeah." Why the hell not? She had to eat. Besides, she could use a friend who wasn't invested in her relationship like half the town seemed to be.
He laughed. "Not exactly the enthusiasm I was hoping for, but better than eating alone. And besides, we can arm wrestle over who gets to drive and claim mileage for our outing to Dakota tomorrow."
She laughed despite her mood. "I don't know, City Boy. Think you can out-wrangle a country girl?" She watched him stand, his scrubs momentarily outlining his fit quads. God, she was such a pushover for a good pair of quads. When Oz was still playing high school football he had amazing quads and some nights, she used to fall asleep dreaming of where those muscles ended and what they might feel like pushed against her in moments of passion. And now she knew—and they were even better than in her fantasies.
Nash laughed and squeezed her bicep. "Hmm. I dunno."
She flexed her muscles and grinned. Laughing, she pushed her cart back against the wall and pushed him toward the door. "Come on, let's get there before they're out of the Friday special."
***
"So?" asked Nash sitting down across from Beth in the small, bustling cafeteria filled with staff, townsfolk and patients. "Still feeling down?"
"Sorry?" Beth glanced around the room. The clatter of dishes and hum of conversation, distracting.
"How are you and Oz doing?" He broke his tea biscuit in half and dipped it in his Irish stew.
Her shoulders sagged. "Oh, you know..."
"I heard you moved out."
"You never struck me as a gossip follower."
"Well, I can't say I like it, but you can't get anywhere in this town without wading through it. Some of it sticks to you." He glanced at Beth, then away. "The two of you are the topic of the town, you know. Especially with you moving out."
Beth close
d her eyes. Great, so much for Nash being an impartial ear who didn't know the town's gossip or everyone's history. The guy probably knew more than she did by now. She opened her eyes to find Mary Alice, the town's most active rumormonger beside their table, tray laden with desserts and coffees for a table of Beth's patients. The woman said she was volunteering, but the way she pumped those folks for gossip—knowing they spent half the day on the phone catching up with the town—she was more like a pioneer trying to fill a leaky bucket with water.
Mary Alice let out a wheezy smoker's cackle. "Ha! I heard Oz kicked her out, Dr. Leham." She turned a curious eye to Beth, brows raised in anticipation.
"I chose to be the one to move out. Temporarily," Beth said, straightening her shoulders. If there were two people in town she'd like to avoid until this business between her and Oz was over, it was Mary Alice and her older sister Liz and, in particular, their big mouths and active imaginations.
"Now why would you two break up?" Mary Alice asked, her sister sidling up beside her.
"It's just a break," she muttered.
Liz piped up, "Then where's your ring?"
"Oz has it."
"He asked for it back?" the sisters asked at the same time. Their eyes slid over Nash and they shared a knowing look.
Liz elbowed her sister in the ribs and whispered loud enough for Beth to hear, "Betcha Mandy moves in on Oz."
Beth shot Nash a look and avoided making eye contact with the ladies. Seriously. They were worse than a pair of soap opera writers. Beth focused on her stroganoff and entertained a brief fantasy of flying away on a private plane, away from these ladies and their less-than-trustworthy gossip. She could picture a dance floor on a secluded beach with a live band playing Michael Bublé. Nash would twirl her around, her light gown flowing out around her, neither of them with a care in the world. She jabbed a noodle and shook the image from her head. She really, really needed to get more sleep. Desperately.
"I think Beth is looking to climb a new mountain." Liz waggled her eyebrows suggestively, elbowing her sister again.
Beth threw her arms in the air, trying to act cavalier when all she wanted to do was rip the heads off of everyone who had turned to eavesdrop. "You got me!" She let out a laugh. "Nash and I are bumping uglies on the side. That's why I moved out."
Eyebrows shot up around the room and whispers stirred the air like a breeze through dry grass.
"You know what?" Nash said casually, his jaw tight. "It's a beautiful spring day. Why don't we go outside to eat?" He stood and clamped a hand on Beth's arm, helping her stand. The sun shone through the floor-to-ceiling windows to her right, and small mounds of slush hid on the shaded stone benches. It was going to be chilly out there, but definitely better than staying in front of the firing squad.
"Outside would be fantastic." She hoisted her tray. "Send your husband my regards, Mary Alice. I hope his ear is feeling better soon. Lovely talking to you, ladies."
Catty cows.
Nash led her outside and past the cold tables and benches. Curious, Beth followed him to a bench resting in a patch of sun under a grove of trees. Nash worked to balance his tray on his lap, then giving up, placed it to the side and held the bowl at chest level, carefully spooning stew into his mouth.
"So," Nash asked casually, his cheeks pink. "I'm part of the rumor mill now?"
"Oh, shoot. Sorry, Nash." Beth placed a hand on his arm. "I was just so pissed off. But don't worry. They won't believe me." She let out a laugh. "Me with a city boy? No offense, but not on your life."
***
Beth sat on the passenger side in Nash's shiny BMW and waited for him to finish gassing the car so they could leave town. She tried not to pet the leather seat peeking out from under her. It was so smooth. So soft and luxurious it made her feel as though she should be dressed up in a ball gown and on her way to some fancy fundraiser where people gave cheek kisses as freely as hellos. She inhaled the car's aroma, certain the new car smell enveloping her was from the interior's lack of age rather than a tree-shaped air freshener like her Gran used to keep in her Plymouth. Plus, the scent of Nash's car didn't make her feel ill in the way Gran's car had on a hot summer's day.
Nash slid into the driver's seat, a gust of cool morning air following him in. "All gassed up. Sorry, I should have filled the tank before picking you up. It completely slipped my mind. I'm still not used to being so far from everything and having to worry about gas."
"That's okay," she sipped the takeout coffee he passed her. "I'd rather wait than be stuck in the middle of nowhere."
"How is it?" he asked, waiting while she took another sip of her coffee. "I chose the freshest looking brew, but none of it looked great."
"It's fine." The coffee was hot and a bit bitter, but it was warm and caffeinated. Perfect for an early morning drive to the city. She smiled over the brim of her cup. He seemed as nervous as she was.
He cranked the engine and an almost-silent purring filtered into the cab.
"Have you been to one of these before?" she asked. The way he had been talking about the outreach training and info sessions and got everything organized for them so quickly she figured he had to have been to a million of them.
"Yes. I helped get an outreach started during one of my practicums while I was in med school."
She looked out the window as they pulled out of the gas station and tried not to shrink down in her seat as community members gawked at her riding alongside Nash. He nattered on about the expertise of the people running the information sessions and Beth's mind drifted. She was going to miss her first coffee date with Oz tomorrow. What if he was ready to ask her back, but she wasn't there to leap into his arms?
But he'd told her to go follow her dreams, too—if only to make him feel better about his own adventures. And although opening an outreach for community members wasn't a dream she'd always had, the idea of doing something new with her job was exciting. Plus, maybe if she didn't show up for their coffee date Oz would realize how much he actually needed her and that his feet were, in reality, plenty warm.
"Do you think he's going to need a long time?" Beth asked out loud.
"The speaker? They usually have three hour sessions with a break in the middle."
"I meant... never mind."
"...Oz?" he asked gently.
She nodded, watching the mountains give way to foothills and meadows as they drove further from town.
"I mean... have you ever talked to anyone who had a temporary break before they got married? Did it work out?"
Nash frowned and shook his head. "I haven't. But you know, Oz has been through a lot lately. It's not uncommon for people our age to need a bit of time to figure out what they want in life. I think it's admirable that he's doing that. You wouldn't believe the people I've seen with health problems because they've swallowed the truth about their lives for so long. It's like it festers inside." He turned to her, his blond hair glowing in the early morning light.
"He said everyone has a secret dream." She turned to him, curious. "Do you have one?"
Nash smiled, his teeth straight and narrow. "Not so secret with me. I want to move up the chain."
"Oh, right." She felt silly forgetting that maybe other people's dreams weren't so secret and under wraps—kind of like hers.
"How about you?"
"Not so secret either. I want a family."
"Kids?"
She nodded.
"What else?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" Her back muscles tightened. Don't tell me another man is going to tell me there's more to life than a good, fulfilling job in a small town and a table crowded with people you love.
"There's got to be something else, right?" There was a tentative uncertainty in his question. "I mean, you like to help people." She gave a noncommittal shrug, waiting to hear him out. "I can see it when you work with your patients. That's one of the reasons I know you're going to rock this outreach thing. Not only will it be fulfilling, but it'll look great on
your resumé."
"And fill a community need," she reminded.
"And heck, maybe you'll discover your dream is to open a private outreach or become one of those consultants we'll see today. They've got to make some serious coin."
"I'd miss my CCPs."
"Your what?"
"Continuing care patients." How could she explain that working with the elderly settled that scared feeling she had inside? How it gave her hope seeing people live long, fulfilling lives.
Plain and simple, she couldn't. She'd managed to explain it to Oz once, but that's because he knew her. He knew her history, her whole life, and could fill in the pieces that even she didn't understand. To explain everything from start to finish to an outsider felt like too much work. Besides, she liked how he saw her in a different light without all her history and baggage. He just saw her as she stood today. Nobody else in Blueberry Springs would have suggested that she open an outreach and fulfill the area's need for outpatient recreational therapy. But he did.
And she liked that. A lot. And she didn't want to spoil it.
"But you never know," she said. "Keep throwing ideas at me. I liked the first one!" She grinned and admired the way his quads flexed under their denim covering as he shifted gears to climb the last big hill before leaving the mountains. Two days of blissful peace away from the gossip and advice in Blueberry Springs.
Chapter 5
Beth shifted from foot to foot while waiting outside the trailer she'd called home for almost two and a half years, waiting for her courage to catch up with her. She hesitated with her fist raised against the inner wood door. It was so odd to knock.
Tucking the dirt bike magazine under her arm she adjusted the screen door and knocked. After her fifth knock the trailer door swung inward revealing Oz, groggy and unshaven. She used to find his morning look sexy, but there was something off about his appearance that made her pause.
"Hey," she said. "I brought this for you." She handed him the magazine.