by Jean Oram
Beth turned to take in the craziness of the carnival behind her. She needed to do something that would spin Oz around. Fast and hard but in a way that wouldn't cause him to freak out. Through a break in the crowd she caught a glimpse of her sister and Dan making out and the band of muscles across her chest tightened as though they had become part boa constrictor. She caught herself scanning the crowd of familiar faces in an effort to spot Oz.
And there he was. Tall, handsome, ambling along, shrugging off congratulations with a smile as he cruised through the crowds, a massive teddy bear tucked under his arm. Spotting her, he drifted toward her side.
"Hey," Oz said standing above her, his free hand tucked in the pocket of his jeans.
Beth gave him a nod of acknowledgement, squinting against the splashes of sunshine poking through holes in the branches above him. What would he do if she stood up, grabbed his face and gave him a long, passionate kiss? Would he reciprocate? She hated to admit it, but the comment she overheard Mandy tell her friend about what men wanted and what they needed being two different things was still circling around in her head. Did Oz need space? Or did he just think he needed it? And what was she supposed to do about it? She pondered it every day and was still stumped.
"I heard the news." He tipped his head toward the carnival. "Your sister and Dan, huh?"
"Yep."
"Was it cheesy?" He sat beside her on the grass, propping up his new stuffed friend. She resisted the urge to reach out and wrap her hand in his. Everything about him right now was familiar and comforting. Like it always had been. Except... it wasn't.
She shook her head. "She said it was romantic and personal and just the way I always said it should be." She looked away from Oz, remembering their own engagement and how they'd made an ordinary day special. Made it theirs. No tacking onto holidays. That day was all theirs.
"Good," Oz said.
"But they picked Valentine's Day for their wedding." Beth raised an eyebrow and Oz burst out laughing, leaning back to prop himself on an elbow.
"For real?"
"I know. Cheese alert, right? I tried to convince her to move it to the 17th." Beth batted her eyelashes and twisted a bare shoulder his way. "I will be a lovely bridesmaid, of course." She tried to smile, despite the pain of talking about someone else's wedding.
"Of course," he said quietly, his eyes focused on the baseball diamond in front of them.
The sat in silence, watching the two baseball teams rearrange players in order to even things out again. Most years Oz was traded back and forth to even out the teams.
"You're not playing today?" she asked, casting Oz a sidelong look.
He shook his head.
"Why not?"
He shrugged.
"What's up with the teddy bear?"
Oz rubbed its blue ear. "Habit."
"What are you going to do with it?"
"Charity, I guess." Beth reminded herself that she didn't need another teddy bear. A token of Oz's affection, yes. But another bear, no. "What's that one you always give to?"
"I give them to whichever kid has been in the hospital overnight. If there isn't anyone, I give them to Katie and she passes it on."
They sat in silence for a moment. "I heard you got your car fixed at the shop?"
"In April, yes." She turned to him, hoping to see a look of pleased relief on his face. Instead she saw pain. "What?"
"Why didn't you come see me?"
"Because you're... busy. And I can get things done on my own." Plus, she didn't want to spend their precious weekly check-in talking to whatever part of his body was sticking out from under her car. Not being able to see his face made it difficult to gauge how he was feeling about his life and their relationship.
He tilted his head. "You don't want me to work on your car?"
"Oz, we only see each other for an hour a week. I can't expect you to fix my car. Paying someone else to fix my car is a small price to pay for you having a little extra time to figure things out."
Oz leaned back on his elbows and studied her for a moment. "You're different."
"No, I'm not." She shook her head, her ponytail tickling the back of her neck.
"You are. I think you needed a break, too."
"I most certainly did not!" Beth stood up, dusting off her bottom. "Just because I'm not sitting around and only having a life if it's with you. And just because and I'm out there trying to wrestle life by the horns, it doesn't mean any of this is good." Oz popped up from his spot on the ground and she raised her voice. "And like you're one to talk about changing. What have you done over the past three months other than drink more beer than usual? This was supposed to be time apart so you could find yourself! You're wasting my life. You aren't even going in to work!"
"Ed is taking care of my clients so I can think."
Beth tried to hold her ground when Oz stepped closer, his nostrils flaring slightly. She couldn't help but wish he'd kiss her even though they were starting what was sure to be a good fight that would blow out all the frustration she was feeling. "Of course he is! He's your direct competition! He's going to take your clients. It's irresponsible and—"
Chest to chest, Oz's warm breath blew over her. "You know what's irresponsible? Going to the office and not taking care of myself. My needs."
"And what exactly are your needs, Oz?" She leaned back and poked him in the chest. "You think you're important enough you can screw over everyone who depends on you? Why don't you just waltz around town saying, 'Sorry, this is me time, folks' then sit at home and do nothing? How many people do you have waiting in limbo because you're a big chicken shit who can't dump what he doesn't want any longer and move on?"
Oz grabbed her wrist and held her body tight to his. "Don't push me Beth. Don't make us say things we'll both regret. I'm trying. You have to trust me." He held her chin in his hand, his gaze softening. "Do you trust me?" he whispered.
She sniffed back tears and nodded, even though she didn't want to. She just want him to release her and not make her feel everything that was whirling through her life her body was on spin cycle.
"Then you have to believe that I'm working as hard as I can. And right now I have to figure out if some of the things I took for granted are missable."
"Am I missable?"
Oz sighed and gave her a tired half-smile.
"Am I?" she insisted.
He gave her a light kiss on the forehead and released her from his grip. She held her anger in check, waiting for him to tell her he loved her and missed her desperately, as desperately as his eyes sometimes showed. But he remained quiet.
Oz scooped his hands through his hair and turned away. "I need to go. I can't talk about things yet. Maybe in a couple of weeks."
She watched him stride across the grass, his head lowered. She sat against the tree and hugged her knees, burying her face so nobody would see her wet eyes. Slowly regaining control, she leaned back against the tree and ground her teeth. Without seeing, she watched the baseball game until a shadow moved across her legs.
She looked up to see a decent distraction. Her friend looking as handsome in his around-town garb as he did in his scrubs. "Oh my God! Who's manning the hospital?" she half joked, trying to smile.
Nash laughed. "Everyone seems to be here. Besides," he tapped the pager hanging from his belt, "I have this."
"Well, you'll be treating her in a few hours." Beth pointed to a fair-haired lady playing shortstop. She smoothed her hands over her bare knees, trying to dissipate the residual hurt from her conversation with Oz. "If you see her heading for the parking lot, consider yourself paged."
"What? Why?" He studied the woman in alarm.
"She gets heatstroke every year." She bit down a smile as his gorgeous eyes flicked around the park before sneaking a peek at his pager, his shoulders stiff.
Once certain he hadn't missed a page, he asked, "Can I get you an ice cream?" He gestured to the ice cream truck parked on a sunny patch of grass. "I was going to get my
self something."
"An ice cream would be great," she said, reaching into her pocket. Beth pulled out a crumpled five.
"My treat. What would you like?"
A way to motivate Oz into fixing whatever the hell was wrong with him. Someone to take her to lunch and make her forget her problems. Maybe show her the world. A little wining and dining. Someone kind, generous, and caring. Someone to snuggle. Someone to take the edge off of being heartbreakingly almost-single. Unfortunately, she was pretty sure Mandy wasn't serving that up in her cousin's ice-cream truck and it was all a bit much to ask of Nash.
"A Creamsicle would be fabulous," she replied, finally. "Why aren't you playing?" She tilted her head toward the ball diamond.
"Oh," Nash shook his head. "I don't play."
"It's just for fun. Non-competitive."
He shook his head again. "Nope. Not for me."
She frowned. Two outfielders were piggybacking, yelling for the batter to hit the ball to them. Not exactly competitive. "You have to compete or you won't play?"
"I meant baseball isn't the sport for me." He held up his baby-soft hands. "These are my instruments. I can't afford to injure them."
"Well, you get a mitt. I'm sure you'd be okay."
"There are no guarantees. Better safe than out of work for six weeks."
"Right." Beth nodded. "So, uh, a Creamsicle?"
"Orange?"
"Is there any other?" Beth asked playfully, slipping out of her funk.
"There is also pink and blue."
She lowered her gaze to her tank top's spaghetti strap and slipped it off her shoulder, pretending to check for signs of sunburn. She snuck a peek at Nash through her mascaraed lashes. His face turned a lovely rouge, and his eyes appeared stuck on her bare shoulder. "Orange is fine, thanks."
"Me too. I like orange. Orange Creamsicles." He smoothed the front of his shirt and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, uh, I'll..." He cleared his throat and tore his eyes away from her tanned shoulder with apparent effort. "Just go over and..." His voice trailed off and he pointed to the ice-cream truck.
"Thanks." She gave him a shy smile, feeling guilty for flirting as a way out of her funk, but relieved that at least someone still found her appealing. Oz was seriously not good for the self-esteem these days. She glanced over her shoulder, worried that maybe Oz had been coming back to spill his thoughts and had seen her flirting. It seemed like whenever she felt the sting of rejection with Oz she turned straight to Nash to let his attention make her feel better.
There was nobody paying attention other than Mary Alice who was stuffing blue cotton candy in her yap. Great. That woman could spread gossip faster than the flu in a whorehouse. She closed her eyes hoping if word got back to Oz he'd know she was just being a goof and not seriously after Nash. He was a city boy, after all, with plans to return there. It was pretty obvious she was just playing around. Wasn't it?
Her gaze wandered over Nash who had joined the ice-cream lineup in his crisp chino shorts, his athletic legs bearing just the right amount of hair. Despite herself, she had to agree with Gran: the man had a nice tush. And when was the last time he had a girlfriend? Judging from the way he threw himself into his work, it had probably been a long, long time which made flirting with him all that much more fun.
And dangerous.
"Were you just flirting with Nash?" Katie whispered as she joined Beth in the grass.
"What? No." She gave a little start and a laugh. "I work with Nash. Like I would flirt." She made a disgruntled sound.
But oh, yeah. She would flirt. She would flirt his shirt off and keep on going if she were carefree and single. Which she wasn't. She scanned the crowds again, hoping to spot Oz's broad shoulders heading back to her.
"I happen to work with him, too," Katie said, "but I don't expose flesh for him."
"I was checking for sunburn! The UV index is very high today."
"Right, Roomie." She flipped Beth's strap back onto her shoulder.
Beth blinked back sudden tears. "I heard the place above the laundromat is available next month."
"What? Move out?"
"I know exactly what I've missed every single second Oz and I have been apart, Katie. But Oz doesn't. If he hasn't figured that out in three months then I think the message is pretty clear." The man was shoring up his courage before cutting the last cord between them.
***
"So, nobody got sunstroke? That must be a first," Beth said, as she sauntered down Main Street with Nash. While she knew she shouldn't be hanging out with Nash because of the rumors they would start, a part of her wanted to prove to the town, as well as Oz, that she could be friends with a man and not have anything untoward happen. Besides, Oz was either going to see them together and decide he really did miss her, or he was going to see them together and decide he didn't. Either way something would happen.
The streets were still busy at four in the afternoon and every so often they had to dodge clumps of pedestrians, but it wasn't nearly as bad as the square where the band had started up, the baseball games were still going, and the mini carnival was making such a racket it was almost impossible to speak without shouting—even while tucked under a tree watching Katie play ball.
"Nope." Nash tapped his pager. "And I'm off call now."
"You're almost like a true member of Blueberry Springs. Going to a town event. Careful or our warm country ways will get to you! You'll wake up and find yourself happily married to a country bumpkin and driving a beat up old truck." She gave him a teasing shove.
Nash laughed and slung an arm around Beth's shoulder, steering her into the ice-cream shop. Beth blushed as a few people she knew looked the two of them over, their gaze lingering on Nash's arm.
He dropped his arm off her shoulder and opened the fridge by the shop's entrance, saying, "I'm not the country bumpkin lovin' type. And besides, I'm not going to start anything serious until I'm back in Dakota." He waved a Coke bottle in her direction. "Drink?"
She nodded. "Please." She let out a relieved sigh. If she didn't want a city man and he didn't want a country bumpkin they would remain perfect, platonic friends. Which was great because she'd come to rely on his shoulder to cry and laugh on when she had a tough day or simply wanted someone to sit with in the cafeteria.
"So, you're going to put your whole life on hold?" she asked Nash, lightly touching his forearm. "Because having your life on hold sucks the big one."
"Well," he paused, considering her comment, "nothing in life is guaranteed. I've seen how fast things can change in a person's life." He glanced at her and said, "My life's not on hold, but my focus is on my career." He continued, "I need to gain as much experience as I can so I can leverage it when I return to Dakota. I'm planning to move into administration."
"Why?" She frowned. "You'll never get to work with patients." From what she'd seen and heard, Nash had talent combined with great instincts.
"It's the next step up the ladder. You should really consider finding more ways to move up with your own career. You don't want to stagnate."
Beth frowned at his suggestion. "Yeah, maybe." Moving up the ladder was exhausting. Despite the thrill of organizing her own outreach program, she couldn't imagine doing this extra work all the time. She missed having her whole weekend to chill out and relax like she used to do with Oz. Today was the first full day off she'd taken since the info session back in March and next week she opened the outreach, meaning her life was suddenly going to kick into high gear.
"The experience I'm getting here is great. There aren't any specialists so I get to dabble in a lot of areas before sending patients to Dakota."
"But wouldn't you miss working with patients? I can't see admin being a heart job."
Nash shrugged.
"But what about all those years of med school? I mean... you've got talent. You won't get to use that in an office."
"Wouldn't be wasted. Good doctors make good administrators. Usually." He smiled down at her. "But not always. It i
s important to have someone in the position who understands what it's like on the floor." He placed a hand lightly on her lower back and directed them to the cash register where a few people were lined up buying cones.
Nash tilted his head toward the row of farmers and town folk drinking coffee out of plain white cups at the beverage bar at the back of the shop. "Think I should get some local head gear?"
Beth glanced at Nash's perfect hair, barely mussed by the sunglasses perched on top of his head. All the men at the bar wore caps, even though they were indoors. "Where are your manners?" she called out to them.
Hats popped off in unison as the men realized she was speaking to them.
Grinning, she shook her head and waggled her finger at the men. A few smiled sheepishly while Nash stared at her with a mix of mock fear and true awe. Laughing, she reached over to the nearby hat rack and dusted off a cap that had been there for ages. "How about this?" She turned it to face him.
"Chevy?" he asked with distain. He spun the wobbly rack. "Is there one that says BMW?"
"Careful now!" she whispered. She glanced around the busy shop like he'd said something offensive. The man seriously needed to learn what was cool and what wasn't in a small town. "If you want to fit in, it's either this one, or this one, or this one." She added a green John Deere cap and a blue Ford hat to her collection.
Nash grimaced. "Maybe I can be an uprooted city boy a while longer?"
"Well, then how about this?" She held up a hat advertising fertilizer, and snatching Nash's sunglasses, popped it on his head.
"Don't you let him go paying good money for that hat, Beth," said a man joining the line behind them. "I can get you one for free at the elevator. Got a whole box of 'em behind my desk. Ranchers don't want 'em. They just want their feed.