“He's been spending some time with a blonde named Shelby,” Jared speculated, and then he rolled his pen across the stack of paperwork before him. “But he hasn’t mentioned that they’re serious.”
“It's about time for Rand, wouldn’t you say?” Georgia inquired with a just-spotted-the-canary grin.
“He's leaving to go back to London in another couple of weeks.”
“Maybe Shelby's going with him.”
Jared thought that over and then shook his head. “They just met.”
“Stranger things have happened, you know.”
Liv floated across his mind, and Jared smiled. Stranger than meeting someone and knowing them for twenty minutes and then calling it serious? “You’re right,” he conceded. “You just never know, do you?”
“Well, keep me posted on the love affair, will you?”
Jared's neck jerked a little as he looked up at her. “What?”
“Rand and this Shelby person,” she explained. “I’ll want to know when to start shopping for a dress for the wedding.”
“Oh.”
Of course. Rand and Shelby. That love affair. Not the one with Liv.
Not that it was an actual love affair. But Jared wondered, if not, what then? Like Rand, Liv would be packing her bags and leaving Sanibel soon. Would he and Shelby cry in their tea together, lamenting over lost loves and missed opportunities?
Georgia headed out to reception, and Jared leaned back in his chair. Pushing his glasses up to his forehead, he rubbed his burning eyes and speculated about Liv's departure. What would life be like for him after she returned to Ohio? For someone who’d occupied a spot in his world for such a short time, the thought of her going away certainly had sketched out a dismal portrait of the future.
Jared turned over the page on his desk calendar and counted down the days until Liv left on the thirtieth. For a moment, his thoughts stretched about inside his brain, like a beam of white light searching open waters from the top of a lighthouse, pursuing some possible scenario where he and Liv weren’t forced to say good-bye. But Jared knew the situation was stacked firmly against them. They didn’t know each other well enough to wager something more permanent. Yet their feelings had developed at an unexpected rate.
At least he was fairly certain it was their feelings in the mix. He’d hate to think he was the only one with this stirring inside of him.
“Guess who's here,” Georgia whispered as she poked her head around the doorway. “Speak of the monkey himself.”
Before Jared could respond, Rand rounded the corner and plopped down in one of the chairs across from him.
“What's up, son?”
“I was thinking it seems like good weather for a sunset cruise.”
“I’m guessing you’re not inviting me to join you.”
“Hah!” Rand spouted. “No. I was hoping you’d let me borrow the boat.”
“Will you be cruising alone then?”
“No,” he replied. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll be with Shelby.”
“The two of you are spending a lot of time together.”
“Yeah.”
“Anything you want to tell me?”
“Like what?”
“Anything about Shelby?”
“Well, she's cool,” Rand replied with a shrug, and then Jared noticed a smile quivering at the corner of his mouth. “What else do you want to know? She can’t hold her sugar; she gets a head rush if she eats something sweet. And the girl cannot sing a single note in key.”
“But?”
“Yeah,” he acknowledged. “But. She's pretty great.”
“I’m glad you’ve met someone who can make you happy, son. But I hope you’re taking it easy.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let's face it, Rand. You’ve never been much of a one-woman guy. And if you’ve met someone who can make you feel like you want to be that guy now, well, that kind of emotion can be fairly heady stuff the first time around.” Rand's curious expression convinced Jared that he needed to be a little clearer. “Traditionally, the male of our species isn’t entirely lucid during times like these.”
“I get it, Dad. I get it. So can I borrow the boat?”
“You may.”
“Thank you.”
“Any chance you’ll be interested to spend five or ten minutes with your old man sometime between now and the time that you pack up and leave to go back to school?”
“I’m sure I can squeeze you in at some point,” Rand teased. “Maybe breakfast on Thursday. Say 11 a.m.?”
“Breakfast at 11!” Jared exclaimed. “I hope you won’t be expected to teach 8 a.m. classes again next semester. Your students might be forced to start a wake-up-professor service.”
“Hey, that's not a bad idea. I could work that into the syllabus as a class project—part of their grade. No, no, really. This is a pretty great idea!”
“Get out of here.”
Rand made a fist and extended it, bumping Jared's with a grin.
“Later, Dad.”
“Later, son.”
The instant the front door thumped shut, Georgia stood in the doorway smiling at Jared.
“Find out anything?”
“Nothing I didn’t know before. For instance, my son has a mind of his own, and any sage advice from his ancient father is going to be disregarded in the shadow cast by a pretty blonde and a sunset cruise.”
Georgia chuckled. “The more things change, the more they stay the same.”
“You said it.”
“So,” she breathed in that I’m-leading-up-to-something-so-prepare-yourself way he’d come to know so well. “What are your plans for dinner tonight?”
And then the familiar squeeze of discomfort just below his ribs.
“Salmon on the grill, a bike ride, and an early night of it,” he stated, trying to sound casual.
“You know what? You could still do all those things if you came to my house for the meal and the swim. I’ve got a couple of T-bones defrosted.”
Jared leaned back in his chair and smiled at Georgia. She ran his professional life like a fine Swiss clock, and she was one of the best nurses he’d ever encountered. But her interest in taking over his private life as well, although flattering, was just not something in their stars.
He’d been as polite as he could possibly be on several occasions, trying to explain how valuable she was to him professionally, believing every time that she understood. And then a few months later, each and every time, she batted those mascara-laden lashes at him, smiled her most cunning smile, and invited him to dinner. Or a movie. Or a museum show in the city.
“Thanks for the invitation,” he replied. Polite but firm. “But I’m going to head home.”
“Are you sure?” she prodded. “Because I—”
“I’m sure,” Jared told her, and he looked her in the eye and then smiled. “You have a nice evening.”
He felt the thud of her disappointment deep within him. He hated rejecting her time and time again, but he just didn’t know how to get through to her. Georgia was a lovely woman, a true Southern belle in every sense of the term. And she kept all the plates of his medical practice clean and spinning. But she just didn’t appeal to him on a romantic level. Not like—
The momentary thought of Liv stroked his heart like a velvet glove.
“Good night then,” Georgia said, and he nodded as she disappeared into the hallway.
Jared knew there was no future with Liv either, but for different reasons. He’d been searching for a solution to the odds against them almost since the first day they’d met, and there didn’t appear to be a ray of hope in sight. But even so, he was determined to enjoy every moment with her until there were no moments left for them. Then he would go back to his practice and his boat and the den that needed painting. Until then, however—
“Liv, it's Jared,” he said the second she answered. “Do you feel like a bike ride?”
11
“Why, oh, why
, did we ever come to this enchanted place?” Prudence asked Horatio.
“Don’t you remember, my donkey friend? You weren’t happy in the meadow.”
“Of course I was! What are you hooting about? That's crazy. I was happy. I was content.”
“Do you think I never saw you? When you’d amble out to the edge of the meadow and stare longingly down the path? I could see the hope for something more in your eyes back then.”
“Did I?”
Prudence brayed softly and dropped her head. She did remember. Life had seemed like one gray day after another there in the meadow. But it was home, and she would have to return because that's what donkeys and hoot owls did—they eventually went home. Didn’t they?
Now that she’d seen the colors of the rainbow in the sky over the Enchanted Pond, she wondered how she’d ever go back to living an ordinary green life again.
I haven’t been on a bike in twenty years,” Liv said as she hoisted her leg over the bar for a second try. The muscle up the back of her thigh strained as she did.
Uh oh. If my muscles are pulling just from getting on the bike, what are they going to think when I try pedaling more than three times around?
“I’m sorry we don’t have the girl version for you,” Jared said as he watched her. “Just men here at Casa de Hunt.”
“It's okay,” she groaned, making the third time the charm. “Go easy on me, okay? I hardly even walk except down the driveway to get the mail. And even at that, the weather has to be ideal or I let it pile up in the box.”
“I’m a doctor,” Jared teased. “Don’t tell me these things.”
“Then I won’t let on how much red meat I consume either.”
“You said you were turning over a new leaf, right?” Jared quipped. “We’ll start with exercise and work from there.”
“How long did you say this trail is? When you suggested a bike ride, I thought you meant like around the block.”
“There are lots of places to stop and rest.”
“Oh, good. Is it too soon to stop?”
Jared laughed. “Just follow me.”
“Do you have a set of heart paddles with you? In case I need resuscitating?”
“Come on. Follow the leader.”
Liv was thankful that Jared's driveway had a slight decline to it, and she coasted down to the street and pedaled up beside him.
“So far, so good,” she said when he cast a glance at her. “How much farther?”
Jared laughed again. She loved the sound of his laughter. It was so carefree and melodious, like a song playing from a radio nearby.
The bike paths were wide and asphalt paved, and they created a well-used system all their own on Sanibel Island. Liv dropped back and followed Jared through the neighborhood and across a causeway. The path was smooth and straight for a period, and then it began to curve through overhangs of lush, green shade trees.
Other riders nodded and waved as they passed. A toddler in a safety seat strapped to the back of her father's bicycle, her blonde curls bouncing on the breeze, opened and closed her fist in a clumsy wave.
“Hi, there,” Liv sang as she rode by.
A pair of overweight riders huffed and puffed as they approached, and the first one called out a breathless greeting to Jared.
He waved. “Good for you, Desiree. That's what I like to see.”
The woman behind Desiree tried a tight smile that melted down into a steel jaw. Liv nodded her head.
“I feel your pain,” she said as they glided by one another.
Liv took note of Jared's solid, suntanned calves as he pedaled ahead of her. She imagined that her own, still lightly streaked with orange remnants of bronzer, looked like sausage casings stuffed with tense, balled-up knots. They pulsed with each push of the pedals, and her lower back burned.
She’d never been much of a gym dweller, but cancer had taken what little energy she’d had and tossed it into the basement closet with discarded curtain rods and a box of ceramics from her creative period. Building up her strength again had been a slow process, and there was still a long way to go. Much like making it to the end of this bike trail she was on.
It was such a healthy lifestyle in Florida, particularly in comparison to the long winters she’d endured back in Ohio. The Sunshine State allowed a year-round array of activities, and even the oldest citizens indulged. She thought about Clayton, swimming his laps in his neon swim trunks, and she smiled.
In Cincinnati, people pretty much took to their houses after Thanksgiving and didn’t come out much at all until the spring thaw. She imagined Jared, in jeans and a sweater, pedaling through the winter and into the spring, when he would no doubt change into a pair of Bermuda shorts and press on.
“How are you doing?” Jared called back to her.
“A little out of breath,” she returned, trying not to let on that it was more than a little. “But I’m good.”
“There's a bridge up ahead. Just beyond it, we can pull over for a rest.”
She didn’t admit how elated she was to hear it, but the muscles burning in her legs when she finally pumped the brakes confirmed the private sentiment.
She waited until Jared turned his back before she hauled her leg over the bike and limped off of it, stifling the grunt that threatened to accompany the action.
“Lemonade,” he said as he headed for a wooden bench beside a tall palm tree.
She made a thudding sound as she collapsed to the bench, and Liv grabbed one of the large sippers in Jared's hands. She didn’t even struggle to conceal her frantic desire to get some of the cold liquid into her.
Sip-swallow-sip-swallow-sip-swallow.
“Oh, that's so good. Thank you.”
Jared's mouth twitched at one corner as he asked, “Liv? Are you all right?”
“I guess I can’t keep it from you any longer,” she admitted through hyperventilation. “I’m one hundred and thirteen years old.”
“Ah.”
“And I’m guessing you are seventeen.”
“Bless you.”
A sudden grabbing at the back of her knee caused Liv to impulsively slam her sipper into Jared's chest. Letting out a mournful cry, she grabbed the back of her leg with both hands.
“Liv?”
“My leg. My leg! MY LEG!!”
“Okay, flex it. Move it, like this,” he said, taking her ankle into his hand and guiding the movement.
“Yowwwww. It hurts. It HURTS!”
“It's a cramp.”
No. Ya think?
“Make it stop.”
Jared failed in stifling a chuckle, but continued to pump her leg out and back several times before the pain began to subside. And as the pain left her, embarrassment moved in at stealth speed to replace it.
“Better?” he asked.
“A little.”
“We’ll just rest a while longer.”
“Like until tomorrow?”
Jared grinned. “I have an idea. You wait here and rest. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Where are you going?” she asked as he mounted his bike.
“Just relax. I’ll be back soon.”
“Jared.”
“Relax.”
“But—”
“Soon.”
She watched him ride away before shaking her head and dropping her face into her hands with a groan.
Woman crippled trying to ride bicycle in days leading up to her fiftieth birthday. Doctors say they’ve never seen anyone in such terrible shape. Full interview with handsome and horrified cycling companion, with film at eleven.
Liv wondered where Jared had gone. Perhaps to a nearby store for some ice. Or to retrieve a takeout Geritol cocktail, decorated with a little paper umbrella for good measure.
Another wave of debilitating charley horse pain assaulted her, and she began pumping her leg again until it passed. Her borrowed bicycle caught her attention, taunting her with the realization that she was going to have to climb aboard again and manag
e to pedal herself back to Josie's house. The mere thought of it was almost more than she could bear, but Liv vowed that she was not going to let Jared see her limping home, pushing the bike down the road as she leaned on it for support like a geriatric with a walker. She would somehow manage to lift her leg over the bar one more time, take her place on the miniscule triangular seat, and pedal her way back with a pasted-on smile and her head held high. She could still collapse, she assured herself, behind closed doors, later, after Jared left.
She was still working on putting some resolve behind the plan when a car pulled up right in front of her. She peered into the window and saw Jared's smiling face, and then she heaved a huge sigh of relief as he hopped out, hurled her bicycle into the trunk, and offered her a hand.
“Let's go, Grandma,” he said. “Your chariot awaits.”
“Oh, thank the Lord.”
Liv sat submerged to her shoulders in the steaming whirlpool of Jared's hot tub while he tended to salmon on the barbecue grill at the other end of the patio. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back against the rim and flexed her ankles, making circular patterns with both feet.
“Do you want to come and have some dinner?” he called to her.
“Can’t I eat in here?”
“Not so great for the digestion,” he replied. “But I’ll meet you halfway with a plate.”
“Deal.”
Liv climbed out of the hot tub, careful to do it while Jared's back was turned. The evening had been humiliating enough without him catching a full body shot of her in a swimsuit, for crying out loud. She wrapped her sarong around her waist and tied it into a knot at the hip. Stepping into rubber sandals, she scuffed toward him with a capricious smile.
“Any better?” he asked her.
“Much.”
“Good,” he replied, setting down two Talavera-style plates bearing salmon, grilled asparagus, and baked potatoes wrapped in aluminum foil. “Everything you’ll need is on the table. Sit down and relax.”
“You’re a very kind man, Dr. Hunt,” she said, easing down into the nearest chair with a slight whimper. “And I am eight hundred years old.”
The Big 5-OH! Page 10