by Leger, Lori
Inside the restaurant, she slipped off her coat and tried to relax. Sam placed a comforting hand on the small of her back as a waitress led them to a table in the corner of the room packed with curious diners. Once they seated themselves, Carrie leaned in close to whisper. “If I had toilet paper trailing from my shoe, you’d tell me, right?”
“It’s only a few squares.”
Her brow wrinkled in a frown. “There are times I appreciate your humor. Now isn’t one of them.”
He picked up his menu. “Don’t worry, they’re just wondering where the hell I found someone as good-looking as you, that’s all.”
“Yeah, sure they are.” She picked up her own menu, glad to have some way to hide the blush she felt creeping up her neck. “So, what do you recommend?”
“I’m partial to the sirloin, but you can’t go wrong with a T-bone or rib-eye.”
Sam smiled at a young woman approaching their table with two glasses of water. “Hey, Lace. How’re you doing?”
She placed water at each of their settings. “I’m good, Mr. Sam. How’s Amanda?”
“She’s doing great, just got a job at a bank here in town.”
Carrie smiled and nodded politely at her, quick to notice the wink of approval she sent Sam’s direction.
She took their drink orders and left the table.
“Lacey is a childhood friend of my daughter’s,” he explained.
Carrie took a sip of water, fidgeting at the curious stares of other diners. “And so it begins…”
“Maybe we should stand up and introduce you.”
“Nah. Let’s keep `em all guessing awhile longer.”
A second waitress, this one closer to their age, brought salads to their table, talking fast and gushing over Sam with obvious gusto.
“Did we order salads yet?” Carrie asked, smiling through the server’s exaggerated twang and overzealous attention to Sam’s needs. She listened, shocked as the woman attempted to engage him in small talk while sending not so covert glances in her direction. Sam gave her a polite nod of thanks and began preparing his salad. Instead of leaving, she loitered at their table.
Once Carrie realized Sam did not intend to introduce them, her curiosity took over. She offered her hand to the woman. “I’m Carrie Jeansonne, and you are…”
“Bertie Miller,” the woman said, countering with what felt to Carrie like a reluctant handshake, before wiping her hands on her apron.
Knowing a snub when she got one, Carrie couldn’t resist egging her on. “Birdie? Like a bird?”
“Uh, no, that’s with a T.”
Carrie stared in disbelief as the woman turned her back to pick up a one-sided conversation with Sam. Snubbed again.
“Like I was sayin’, Sammy, if you need anythin’ at a-all, Sugar, you just let me kna-ow—”
“Oh, Burtie. Like a man,” Carrie interrupted. “Your parents must have been expecting a son, then. Your father must be a Burt or Robert.”
The woman turned to stare at her. “Nooooaah…” she drawled. “B-E-R-T-I-E…as in short for Roberta? Oh, and by the way, I’m a friend of Linda’s. You know, Sammy’s ex-wa-af? You must not be from around here, you havin’ such a thick Cajun accent an’ all.”
Carrie gave the woman a thousand-watt smile as she rested her chin on her clasped hands. “Nooooah, but I lived in East Texas fuh six years of my laf, an’ when I get the yearnin’, I bet I can lay the twang on every bit as good as you … Sugar.” She batted her eyelashes dramatically at Bertie before continuing. “It’s been a pleasure, Burt, but I see our real waitress is back to take care of my and Sammy’s needs. Thanks so much for everything.”
Their waitress stepped up, effectively cutting off the older woman’s contact with Sam until Bertie sulked away.
Lacey gave Carrie a look of pure mortification. “I’m so sorry—I turned my back for a second, and she was out here. She knows this is my section.”
Carrie pointed to the two vegetable filled plates. “These are someone else’s, aren’t they, Lacey?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Sam looked up from cutting a cherry tomato in half. “They are?”
“Did we put in our orders, yet, Sam?”
“No, but…”
Carrie cocked her head to the side and lifted her hands, palm side up.
He gazed mournfully at his salad. “Do I have to give it back?
Lacey giggled, shook her head. “Of course not. Y’all ready to order?”
Sam ordered a sirloin, well done, with a side of grilled vegetables and then turned to Carrie.
“I think I’ll just have a salad.”
“I thought you wanted steak?”
“Not if Bertie is going to be within twenty feet of my food, I don’t.”
Lacey grinned. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t go near it, I promise.”
Carrie handed her the menu. “Okay, then. But just to be safe, I’ll have what he’s having, with the same grilled veggies.”
“How do you want that cooked?”
“Medium please and could you bring a dish of extra lemon for Sam’s iced tea, please?”
Once Lacey left with their order, Sam wiped his mouth on his napkin. “How’d you know I liked extra lemon?”
“You ordered it the day we all went to eat at McKinley’s Grill.”
“That was less than a month after you came to work with us.”
She sliced a cherry tomato in half. “It was the day after my divorce finalized.”
“You paid attention to what I said that long ago?”
Carrie ignored the question and changed the subject.
“That Bertie chick may know your ex-waaf, but she was certainly no friend of hers.”
He grabbed his fork and attacked his salad again. “Used to be, but not for several years.”
“What happened? Did Linda figure out that Bertie wanted to sweeten your tea for you, Sammy?”
Sam pulled on the collar of his shirt. “Damn, it’s hot in here.”
“Y’awnt me to call Bertie over here, Saaa-mmy? Bet she can make ya even hotter.”
Sam stabbed at a piece of lettuce. “Stop it.”
Carrie leaned in closer to tease him. “What happened, Sugar? Did the scary lady make a pass at Sammy Wammy?”
Sam gulped at his tea before answering. “She grabbed my ass when I wasn’t looking. Linda saw it all and went over to confront her.”
“Oh-oh, did she threaten her?”
“She wouldn’t say at first, but a couple of weeks later, during one of our too-frequent arguments, Linda admitted to me what she’d told Bertie.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Linda said if she wanted that part of me, Bertie had to promise to take the whole GD package. But, it’d cost half of my retirement, everything we owned, and Bertie had to take the son-pampering motherin-law too.”
Carrie’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my God, she really told her that?”
Sam puffed out one cheek before answering. “I don’t doubt it for a second.”
Carrie brought her straw to her mouth for a drink then pursed her lips. “That’s pretty good.”
“This time I’m the one asking to change the subject.” Sam cleared his throat. “How’d you get into drafting, anyway? Last night you said something about almost becoming a paralegal?”
She used her fork to point at him. “Okay, but only because I owe you one. My two girlfriends, Sharon and Sandy, and I were on our way to a technical college in Lafayette to test for paralegal studies. About halfway there, I had a meltdown and told them I couldn’t work for a lawyer. I had drooled over the drafting technology section in the catalog, but the required math scared the hell out of me. My friends gave me the boost in confidence I needed and convinced me to go for it. I scored in the top three percentile on the school’s technological entrance exam.”
“Not bad for someone who’d been out of school for over a decade.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I guess I remembered more than I gave myself credit for.
”
“Why drafting?”
“All my life I’d seen this funny looking, three sided ruler hanging around our home. I remember holding it, examining it, and never being able to figure out how to use two sides of it.”
“A scale?” Sam asked her.
“That’s right. I remember looking for a straight edge to draw a line and I asked if anyone knew where that three sided ruler was.” She laughed at the memory. “My dad, who could draw anything to scale, said, ‘I keep telling you. It’s not a ruler, dammit, it’s a scale!’ At the time, the only scale I knew about was the kind that weighed things. I didn’t know anything about drafting arms, templates, or CAD programs. I think dad would be proud I chose this career.”
“What does your mom do?”
“She retired as a teacher’s aide, but since Dad’s death, any damn thing she wants to.” Carrie dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “She loves to work in her garden. I swear that woman could grow a rose bush from a rock. She’s the president of the Garden Club and involved in all kinds of things.”
“Do you like gardening, too?”
She raised her thumb. “Does this digit look green to you?”
“I enjoy gardening.” Sam stacked their empty salad plates as Lacey arrived with their entrees.
“I hate it. I’ve got better things to do with my time.”
“It’s the differences that make life interesting.”
“I guess you’re right.” A trio of women at the entrance grabbed her attention.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think those women are talking about us over there.”
Sam waved her off. “It’s a small town. Tomorrow they’ll be talking about someone else.”
Carrie leaned over to look around him. “I think this is different.”
Sam looked in the direction and groaned. “Aw, hell, damn, and double damn,” he muttered, as one woman walked toward them.
“Who is that?”
Sam sighed, picked up his napkin from his lap and threw it on the table. “My ex.”
The pretty, full-figured woman approached the table wearing a smile mixed with equal parts smirk. “Hey, Sam. Don’t get up.” She placed a hand familiarly on his shoulder.
“Thanks. I wasn’t planning to.”
“I’m having supper with Deb and Margaret and wanted to come over and say hello.”
Sam clenched and released his jaw several times during her dialogue before he shrugged, then answered in a low growl. “There’s a first time for everything, I guess.” He sent Carrie an apology-filled plea for patience. “Carrie, this is Linda.”
The woman reached over the table to extend her hand.
In Carrie’s mind, Linda’s bold act of walking over to their table in front of everyone in the dining room implied one of three things: First, Linda considered this her territory and Carrie the interloper; second, Sam’s ex-wife was an extremely friendly person; or third, Linda was just nosy as hell.
Linda’s insincere smile hinted at a mixture of territorial and flat out nosiness. Carrie chose to stand as she clasped hands with the much shorter woman. Linda’s smile faded, obviously from shock at the sight of her ex-husband’s date smiling down at her. “I’m Carrie Jeansonne. Hello, Linda. It’s very nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too, Carrie. I didn’t realize Sam was seeing anyone—and so young, too.”
Carrie intercepted the smug look Linda directed at a tight-lipped Sam. The woman had nerve, for sure, but absolutely no idea who she was messing with. Carrie cocked her head slightly. “People always tell me I look much younger than my age, Linda, but thank you so much for the compliment.”
“So, how long have you two been dating?”
Sam rested his elbows on the table, the fingers of both hands interlaced tightly. “Since when do you give a damn about anything I do?”
Carrie reseated herself, leaving Sam’s ex standing alone, and covered Sam’s clasped hands with her own. He latched onto her fingers with both hands, as though he were a drowning man reaching for a buoy. She answered his questioning gaze with a warm smile. “This is only our first date, but Sam and I work together, and we’ve been friends for a few months.”
Linda blinked once and furrowed her brow. “I thought the company frowned upon co-workers dating.”
Carrie gave the woman a bright smile. “Oh, Sam’s not my boss. I’m a road-designer, so it’s okay.”
“You must be new. Roxie’s been the only woman in that office for years.”
“I’ve been there for—has it been over four months already, Sam?”
“On the eleventh.”
“You remember the day?” She feigned a look of surprise more for the sake of Linda than anything else.
“You know it.” He spoke in a low voice, never taking his eyes from her.
Under the circumstances, Carrie decided she could afford to be gracious. “I’ve seen pictures of your beautiful kids, Linda. Amanda and Nick look a lot like you.”
“Oh, uh, thank you. Well, I don’t want to keep the two of you from your meal.”
Carrie watched as Linda turned abruptly and walked back to her friends. Several other heads watched the woman’s hasty retreat back to her own corner of the ring.
Carrie raised her hand to ring an imaginary bell. “Ding! Ding! First round goes to the challenger. The mouthy interloper from Gardiner, Louisiana …”
Sam’s shoulders shook with laughter at her imitation of a boxing ring announcer. “I believe it did, Slugger.”
She settled back in her chair to slice her tender sirloin. “You think she got what she was looking for?”
The remainder of a chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. “Oh, yeah, and so much more.” He raised his fork to his mouth and paused. “You know, that’s the first time she’s initiated a conversation since we split. We normally repel each other like two magnets with the same pole.
Carrie smiled at him as she looked up from cutting her steak. “I figured as much. I guess that was the female version of a pissing contest.”
He snorted. “You definitely won.”
“You think?”
“I know.”
Carrie swallowed her bite of steak and leaned forward to speak. “To the victor go the spoils.”
Sam reached over and ran the back of his hand gently along the side of her face as his tone deepened. “This spoil is yours, if you want me.”
“I’m considering it,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “But first, are there any more exes or wannabe’s to contend with, Saa-mmy?”
Sam rubbed at his face. “You don’t have to contend with anyone. Bertie’s slept with half the men in town but never me. As for Linda—she was just being downright nosy.”
She sipped from her water glass. “She’s just curious.”
“C’est tout le meme chose.”
“I guess it is the same thing, isn’t it?”
They finished their meal with no more drama and arrived at the theater in plenty of time. Carrie laughed at the previews of two comedies and whispered after one trailer. “Cory said the soundtrack to that movie is outstanding. I’d like to see it.”
Sam leaned close to her ear. “How about next weekend?”
“I’d love to go with you next weekend.”
He straightened in his seat, his face plastered with an ear-splitting grin. “You’re so easy.”
“And cheap, too,” she added. The two of them faced each other and fell into helpless laughter.
“I meant you’re easy to be with, as in comfortable,” he explained, as he reached his arm around and pulled her closer.
She smiled, settling into the cozy warmth of his embrace.
Two hours later, Sam reached out from the driver’s seat and grabbed Carrie’s hand, entwining his fingers through hers. “Did you enjoy the movie?”
“I did. It was no Tombstone, though. I loved Val Kilmer in that one”.
“I’m your Huckleberry,” he drawled, imitating Val�
�s character, Doc Holiday. He studied Carrie’s profile while waiting for a signal light to turn green. “So, what day do you want to go next weekend?”
“I guess we’ll have to check the schedule again.” She gazed out through his truck window. “But, you don’t have to take me out, you know. I’d be just as happy with a home-cooked meal and a rented movie.”
Sam nodded. “Whatever you want to do, we’ll do.” He smiled as she tried to hide a yawn from him. “I need to get you back so you can go home and get some rest. I bet you’re tired.”
“I am,” she agreed. “Mom and I got all the baking done for tomorrow and the next day. I don’t want to see an electric mixer or mixing bowls for a while.”
“I guess you have big plans with your family and kids tomorrow night?”
Carrie played with the zipper of her purse. “Actually, the kids will be with me all day tomorrow but are going back to their dad’s tomorrow night. Christmas Eve night is a big thing at Ruby’s.” She turned to face him, her gaze filled with curiosity. “How about you?”
“Lunch at my folks. My kids have places to be all day tomorrow and tomorrow night.” He turned to her, a hangdog expression on his face. “My sister invited me to her place, but I’d hoped to have other plans for that night.”
Carrie raised one brow, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Poor baby, I’d invite you to my mom’s, but I doubt you’d survive it.”
He pulled at his collar uncomfortably. “Um, you may be right about that.”
“Besides, before anyone in my family can meet you, I’d have to broach the subject of my seeing other people with my kids.”
Sam stared straight ahead at the roadway and swallowed hard. “Other people?”
“Well, just to see if they’d mind. I mean, this is only our first date.”
He swiveled his gaze around to face her. “But, you’ve already accepted a second date.”
She stared ahead, avoiding eye contact with him. “Yes, I did.”
“I thought we’d be—that made us—um—that we were …” He gave up in frustrated defeat.
Carrie’s voice held a hint of laughter. “Sam, are you asking me to go steady?”
He ducked his head. “Go ahead. Laugh at a man who’s on his first ‘first date’ in twenty-three years.”