by Leger, Lori
“You have a place of your own?”
“I lease a house on Fleur de Lis Avenue. When Tanner asked me to move in with him four months ago, I hoped it would improve things between us, but it hasn’t.”
“Knowing Tanner as I do, I can’t say I’m too surprised.”
“No, me either. That’s why I didn’t give up my lease. I kept the utilities turned on with the central running so it doesn’t get musty. Most of my stuff is still there.”
“That showed some foresight on your part.”
She smiled, remembering the phone call with her brother when he’d urged her to keep her place. “It was Drake’s idea.”
“It sounds like he knows Tanner.”
“He’s not a fan. I’ve been thinking about what your mom told me. How I need to find myself again. I think I need to be alone for a while.”
“Sometimes being alone isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” Red’s voice barely registered above a whisper.
Tiffany drank the last sip of wine from her glass. “It can’t be worse than living like this.”
“Well, hell, I can’t argue with you. I don’t know how you took it this long.”
She let the comment pass and sat up to reach for the radio.
“Are you getting out of the tub now?”
“No, just switched to the classic rock station. Oh, I love this song! I haven’t heard this in years.” She raised the volume so Red could hear the mellow sounds of Led Zeppelin’s Stairway to Heaven. She refilled her glass and eased back into the water, groaning as the warmth enveloped her. “I used to be putty in the hands of any guy who could play that acoustical guitar part for me.”
“Are you still?”
She heard the hint of mischief in his question and smiled to herself, already feeling the effects of the wine. “Maybe.”
“Want me to play it for you?”
She sat up. Was he serious? “Don’t tease me, Red.”
“I’m serious. I’ll get my guitar and play it for you right now, if you want me to.”
“Now what girl could say no to that?” she cooed.
“Hang on.”
She heard him put the phone down. While he was gone, she reached over and turned off the radio then refilled her wine glass. A minute later he came back to the phone.
“Are you ready?”
“Absolutely.” She heard him warming up, pictured his deft fingers manipulating the taut strings into what turned into the well-known guitar solo.
Tiffany turned the phone’s speaker on and raised the volume. She set it on the ledge and settled back, eyes closed, enjoying the music she loved. Her enjoyment grew as Red began to sing to her in rich dulcet tones, and she wondered if—no—she hoped he’d repeat the performance for her one day, face to face. Several wonderful minutes later, she released a long, low sigh of satisfaction.
“I haven’t had anyone do that for me since spring break my freshman year of college. I’m not sure, but I think his name was Eric.” She tried to jog her own memory.
“His performance couldn’t have been that good if you’re not sure of his name.”
After a slight pause she asked, “Are you referring to his musical performance?”
“I was, but if either of his performances had been worth a damn, you’d remember his name.”
Tiffany chuckled. “Have you ever been to Panama City Beach during spring break? There’s a hell of a lot I don’t remember.”
“As a matter of fact, I went four years in a row and I remember the names of every girl I met there.”
“Ah, but do they remember your name?”
Red’s deep chuckle rumbled over the line. “I’m sure they do, they repeated it enough during the throes of passion.”
Tiffany snorted. “How do you know they weren’t faking it?”
“A guy knows those things, Doc.”
“Hmmm—I’m remembering a scene from a particular Meg Ryan movie.”
“Well, in all honesty, I’ve learned a lot since then, but I call those years my learning period.”
“What did you learn?”
“How to please women in bed, or on the beach, or the back seat of a car, or the kitchen tab—”
“Enough! Honestly, you are such a guy.”
“What else would I be? And what else would I do there? Why did you go to Panama City during Spring Break? Wait, no, don’t tell me—to get a tan?”
Tiffany sipped from her wine glass. “Certainly, among other things. I went especially to shock my parents. I wanted three things. To get a tattoo, any form of body piercing, and have unprotected sex with the first guy I met.”
“That’s a hell of a bucket list. How many of those things did you get to cross off?”
“Let’s see—I nearly passed out while I was watching some guy’s nipple being pierced.”
“But … you’re a surgeon.”
“I know, but I don’t perform surgery after five margaritas and as many shots of tequila.”
“I sure as hell hope not,” he snorted. “Anything else?”
“Uh—well, the only guy I ever had sex with over there wore a condom, so I guess I wasn’t the type after all.”
“Was it the Stairway to Heaven guy?”
“Yes, actually, it was.”
“Damn, if I’d known that, I would have saved it for a live performance.”
She chuckled. “It’s too late now, stud.”
“Maybe next time, but, I think you left something out.”
“Mm, I don’t think so.”
“Give it up Tiff-a-ny,” he drawled. “What kind of tattoo did you get?”
“I’m not telling.”
“Come on, where did you get it, Doc?”
“I got it—at a parlor on that Front Beach Road.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Where is it?”
“On a place that never sees the sunshine.”
“Fine, I’ll ask Tanner.”
“Right.” She giggled. “Like he’d tell you.”
“I’ll sing to you again if you tell me.”
“What will I get to hear?”
“Anything you want, if I know it.”
She thought awhile and said, “Two songs—one of my choice and one of your own. I love that old song New Orleans Ladies. Can you handle it?”
“Sure I do. I have to admit, though, I never would have taken you for a classic rock kind of girl.”
She laughed at his remark. “My brother used to tell me I was born fifteen years too late.”
“Nah, you were born at just the right time.”
Tiffany bit her lower lip, wondering if this was all just harmless flirting or something a little more substantial.
Red cleared his throat. “I’ll play it for you, but I want the location first and what it is. Either that, or a promise to let me see it for myself.”
“It’s a yellow rose and it’s just above my right butt cheek,” she said quickly. “Now where’s my song?”
“Hang on now. I need a minute or two for the visual to take shape. First you’re in the tub and now you have a yellow rose on your right butt cheek. This could take a while.”
Tiffany cleared her throat. ”Since we’re visually imaging, I think it’s only fair you tell me what you’re wearing.”
“My oldest, most comfortable faded jeans,” he told her.
“What else?”
“Nada.”
She sucked in her breath, recalling the pictures she’d seen of his fabulous body. “Nothing?”
“That’s right. When I got out of the shower, I realized I’d worn my last pair of clean undershorts today.”
“Sounds like it’s time to do some laundry”
“Hmph. Past time. It’s been a hectic week.”
“Boxers or briefs?” As soon as she uttered the words, she gasped and slapped her hand over her mouth.
A shocked laugh burst from Red. “Why, Doc, I didn’t know you cared!”
She squeezed her eyes shut,
deciding it was useless to apologize. “It’s the wine,” she groaned.
“Don’t worry about it.” He began strumming the notes of the song.
Tiffany laid back and relaxed as he sang his own beautiful version of her second favorite song, New Orleans Ladies. Afterward, he paused for several moments before making his choice.
“I’ve got it,” he said, finally. “I’m switching to country. Do you remember Doug Stone?”
“Sure do,” she said, relaxing as he began to play another old favorite of hers, Come In Out Of The Pain. Red’s version was soulful and sexy, and she easily conjured up her own image of him sitting with his guitar propped comfortably on his leg, wearing an old pair of jeans—and absolutely nothing else. Tiffany thought of the near kiss situation earlier today. She’d been tempted, but wouldn’t make a move with any man until she had ended the relationship with Tanner.
She blinked several times as the song came to an end. “That was beautiful,” she whispered. “I love the way you sing.”
“Enough to let me have a look at that tattoo one of these days, Doc?”
She giggled. “You know, I have a tendency to show it off when I shoot tequila—”
“Good to know,” he interrupted. “What brand so I’ll know what to stock?”
“—and that’s why I don’t shoot tequila anymore,” she finished.
“Bummer,” he groaned. “What does Tanner think of the old yellow rose?”
Tiffany lifted her head. Just the mention of Tanner’s name sobered her. “He doesn’t like it.”
“It’s a flower and it’s on your butt. What’s not to like?”
She adjusted the clip in her hair. “He’s always wanted me to have it removed.”
“Don’t you dare!”
“Why do you care?” she asked. “You’ll never see it.”
“Never is a long time, Doc.”
“Red …” Damn, she was glad he couldn’t see her blush. Judging by his low chuckle, no doubt he’d suspect she was doing just that.
”Hey, what were you like as a kid? I bet you were a prissy little thing.”
“Shows how much you know. My brother, Drake, can verify how wrong you are. I beat up a kid who picked on him once, and got myself in a lot of trouble at school.”
“I bet that upset your mother.”
Tiffany mulled that over before answering. “She didn’t care what I did, as long as she didn’t have to look at me.” She waited through another prolonged silence.
“You want to talk about it?”
“Nope, but thanks for asking.”
“Anytime, but I guess I need to let you go. You’re probably pruning.”
She stopped herself from telling him she’d like to keep talking. “I guess so.”
“Listen, I know you don’t like the name Tiffy, and I can understand that, but does it bother you when I call you Doc? I’ll stop if you don’t like it.”
“Strangely enough, I find it comforting.”
“Oh. Good.” He sounded pleased. “Then I’ll talk to you later.”
“Goodnight Red.”
“Hey, one more thing.”
“What’s that?” She froze, waiting for his final words.
“Boxer briefs. G’night Doc.”
Tiffany foraged through her fridge for something to eat, wishing she’d taken up Red’s offer to bring home leftovers yesterday. Settling on a personal pizza from the freezer, she’d just popped it into the microwave when her phone rang.
She checked the caller ID and answered with a bland, “Hello Tanner.”
“Who the hell have you been talking to for an hour?” he demanded.
“What do you care, and where’s the bimbo of the week?”
“There you go with your paranoia again, Tiffy.”
The sound of the hated nickname grated on her nerves to no end. “Where are you Tanner? What’s her name?”
“Hmph! It must be that time of the month again,” he said. “For a couple of days you have no control over your emotions, and your imagination runs rampant for an entire week.”
Tiffany cursed lowly. “Why don’t you for once, in your pathetic life tell me the truth? I’m not stupid, you know. I’ve just chosen to look the other direction for the past five years.”
“I’m not with anyone else.”
“Last chance, Tanner. If I don’t get the truth right now, I’m out of here.” She fumed internally at the impatient sigh he released.
“You know, this attitude of yours gets to be so boring.”
Tiffany let out a long sigh, but remained calm. “Aren’t you as sick of this as I am?”
“Stop being so dramat—”
“I’m done with this, Tanner. I’ll be gone by the time you get back,” she said, cutting him off quickly. “Don’t waste your time calling me again. I won’t answer if it’s you.” She hung up without giving him a chance to respond.
When he didn’t call back, she breathed a sigh of relief. She added Red’s name and number into her cell phone’s contact list then sat on the couch to call him back. “Hey,” she said after he’d picked up on the third ring. “Are you busy?”
“I’m never too busy for you, Doc.”
She smiled at his answer. “Tanner called, demanding to know who I was speaking to for so long.”
“What happened?”
“I asked him to come clean and he accused me of being paranoid, of course. I told him by the time he comes back I won’t be here. We’re over.”
“Good for you. He won’t come back and bother you tonight, will he?”
“Tanner would never go through that much trouble.” Her phone beeped and she checked it. “Hang on, Red. It’s the hospital.” She switched to the other call. “This is Dr. LeBlanc.” Sally from the switchboard answered.
“Hey, honey, your nine a.m. knee replacement just got cancelled—that’s a Mr. Mouton. His pre-admit blood work showed a high white blood cell count. It turns out he’s got a bacterial infection, so Dr. Trahan put him on antibiotics. Looks like that one will be put off for a while.”
“Okay Sal. That was my last surgery scheduled, so I won’t see you until Monday.” She switched back to Red’s call.
“Looks like I’m free until Monday. So, I guess I’ll be moving some things back into my house tomorrow.”
“Do you need help?”
“I could probably use a big strong man to help me move a couple of heavy items. Do you have any idea where I could find someone that fits that description?”
“You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to that.”
She crossed her ankles and laughed. “Oh, I think I do, but thanks. It shouldn’t take long. I left most of my stuff in the house. I only have my desk and a couple of chairs to move. Everything else is clothing and personals. I’ll need to find packing boxes, though.”
“You’re in luck, Doc. I didn’t finish unpacking until Tuesday, so my garage is full of ‘em. I’ll bring some when I go.”
Tiffany’s phone beeped again. She checked it to see her mother’s name flashing across the screen. “Oh God. He called my mother. I can’t believe it.”
“Do you need to take this?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Be strong, Doc.”
She hit the button to switch to her mother’s call. “Hello mother. Did you call to say Happy Thanksgiving?”
“Tiffany Danielle, you know very well why I called. Poor Tanner just called me, so distressed about you dumping him during the holidays.”
“Poor Tanner was supposed to be spending it with his parents, but never made it that far. He called you from some other woman’s bed.”
“Why didn’t you go with him?”
“I’m on call. I can barely leave the city much less the state, Mother. I’ve been at the hospital all day.”
“And whose fault is that? You know how I feel about you working once you’re married. A woman who doesn’t need to work, shouldn’t. Marry Tanner, quit your job at that awful hospital, ha
ve a child or two, and join a few clubs to keep you busy.”
“And endure a loveless marriage like yours and fathers.”
“We both have our forms of entertainment.”
“No kidding.”
“Don’t be rude, Tiffany.”
“Don’t be obtuse, mother. Entertainment is just a polite way to say you both sleep around.”
“Your father and I are satisfied with the arrangement.”
Tiffany shook her head in disgust. “You shouldn’t be. I want a better life, a better marriage than that.”
“This is a good life, dear. We’ve raised you and your brother to have the best of everything.”
Tiffany couldn’t stop the bitterness from seeping into her reply. “You didn’t have a damn thing to do with raising Drake and me, mother. Melinda took care of us, thank God. Don’t you ever wonder why we only go there twice a year?”
“I don’t need to wonder. It’s because you’re both selfish, ungrateful children.”
“It’s because it’s not a home. It never was! I’ll be damned if I raise children in a place like that. If I marry, it will be for love, and to a good man who’d rather die than hurt me the way Tanner has.” She cringed at the sound of her mother’s hysterical laughter.
“Oh, listen to you, so full of hope that there’s still a decent man out there waiting for you. You always did live in a fantasy world, Tiffany. Now, you listen to me. The phrase ‘good man’ is an oxymoron, and there is no such thing as a faithful marriage. The sooner you accept it, the better off you’ll be.”
Tiffany closed her eyes and sighed. “Mother, I feel so sorry for you. I’ve seen how other people live, and it’s not how you and father live. Other people are happy. Not all, of course, but I can name dozens of couples right now who are truly happy together.”
“Pah! Newlywed love fades. Trust me.”
Tiffany ran a hand through her straightened locks and let her head fall back. “You’re wasting your breath, Mother. I will not marry Tanner. He’s selfish, vindictive, spoiled, and weak.”
“Yes, you will.” Her mother spoke in an icy tone. “You will do what your father and I have groomed you to do, to make a good match.”
“Groomed me? Why not just call it what it is? You want to whore me out. Sell me to the highest bidder!”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”