The Bridge to a Better Life

by Ava Miles

  The guys all laughed, and Natalie looked over, her eyes wide. Then she stepped over to the window and looked out, likely to see the spectacle. She was biting her lip when she turned around. When she waggled her finger at him, he walked over without hesitation, as if she were a magnet.

  “I’ll go get you some new briefs,” she whispered when he lowered his head to hear her.

  His mouth parted in surprise. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “What are you going to do? Climb the tree and wash them? I know you. The guys touched your briefs, and I think I saw a few robins perching on a red pair.”

  Ugh. He hadn’t thought about the birds. Or the guys’ hands.

  “I can have my assistant get some tomorrow,” he told her. “Be faster than the mail.” The tips of his ears burned as he considered what it would be like to ask her. Usually he ordered them online himself, which Natalie had reason to know.

  Three years ago someone had taken a picture of him buying his briefs at Cherry Creek Mall and tweeted it. The picture had instantly gone viral. His fans had started tweeting about switching to his brand for good luck on game day, and several had shared pics. If there was one thing he didn’t need to see in a pic, it was a hairy man with a big belly pointing at the waistband of his briefs.

  “I know…what you like.” Her cheeks flushed, putting a dent in her gray pallor. “And I owe you. After last night.”

  “I told you, you don’t owe me,” he said as Jordan walked into the kitchen and glared at him. He shot him a wide-toothed smile.

  “I know, but I want to do this, Blake. I’ll send Touchdown over when I leave for the store. He was taking a nap.”

  The dog probably hadn’t slept much better than Blake. Maybe he was as confused as Blake was about this whole situation. Still, after last night, Blake could feel the simple bonds of intimacy wrapping around them once more. Here he was, talking with her in the kitchen about buying his briefs. He had to remind himself she was his ex-wife, but in truth, he didn’t think of her that way. Never had.

  His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he wanted so badly to kiss her, just a simple husband-and-wife thank-you kiss, for being in the kitchen while he hosted his friends, for running personal errands for him. For being his partner. Her lashes lowered, and he knew she was aware of him. Then she licked her lips. Lightning struck. She always licked her lips when she was thinking about kissing him in public.

  Stepping back was a challenge, but if he planned to win her back—and he did—he had to give her the space to realize she wanted him back. All the way.

  “Thanks, Nat. Just text me when you return, and I’ll jog over to get them. I don’t want the guys commandeering them and adding them to that poor tree out back. Do you think it’s embarrassed?”

  A puzzled crease appeared between her brows. “Who?”

  “The tree.”

  A shy smile played up those gorgeous lips of hers. “Maybe. I’ll just…head out.”

  He clenched his hands to stop them from reaching for her. She moved by him so slowly, he felt her body heat penetrate his sensitized skin.

  “I’ll see you guys later,” she said at the door. “Jordan, the next time you come around with tequila, I’m going to kill you.”

  The quarterback blew her a kiss. “The next time I have tequila, you can make us some of your famous margaritas.”

  “Deal.”

  The other guys waved and said their goodbyes. He watched her walk off in the sunshine, the light picking up the red and gold highlights in her hair. He slumped against the counter.

  The next time…

  She was including him in her future again, even if she didn’t fully realize it yet. He dished himself a plate of food and came over to the table, checking to make sure the lone chair wasn’t oozing with honey or some other disgusting substance. He’d bet money the practical jokes weren’t over for the weekend, and time was running out.

  “So…” Jordan said as he bit into blueberry multi-grain French Toast. “Looks like tequila wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”

  “Shut it,” Blake said as he chewed. Good manners flew out the window when they were together. Then his neck prickled. “Wait. Did you get Natalie drunk on purpose?”

  “Who could forget The Natalie Show?” His friend lifted a shoulder. “You ended up staying over, didn’t you? And she just agreed to buy you new briefs, right?”

  Of course. Everyone knew about the Twitter incident. “What are you? A lip reader?” The question was rhetorical. They all read lips pretty well after spending most of their adult lives playing in ear-splitting crowd noise.

  “Had to help a friend out,” his buddy said.

  The guys were all looking at him now, and he shifted in his seat.

  “You were all in on it.” He could read it in their faces now—all the careful planning that had gone into their game. Renting the snake so he’d lose. Making sure he was the Smuck so he could make Natalie laugh. Getting her drunk so he could take care of her. And his briefs…

  “You are so diabolical.” Then he got choked up. “Man, I love you guys.”

  They all had a moment of back slaps, fist bumps, and man-hugs.

  “I’m sorry about the ice water,” Blake mumbled after their moment of bonding.

  Jordan lifted his hand to his ear. “What did you say?”

  Sam elbowed him in the ribs. “Know when to cut the cute factor, Jordan. It can get annoying.”

  Blake found himself smiling throughout the rest of the meal, even if he was wearing day-old briefs and the ugliest 1980s outfit of all time as his underwear swung in the breeze in the tree outside.

  When Natalie texted him later to say she had his briefs, he jogged over with a newfound bounce in his step, Touchdown running at his side. She was waiting for him in the middle of the bridge. Somehow it felt like a sign that she’d met him halfway. The package was warm from her hands when she handed it to him awkwardly, their fingers grazing each other. It did crazy things to him, thinking of her hands on his briefs, even wrapped like they were in plastic.

  “Well…I’ll see you later.” She had taken a few steps away from him before he found his voice.

  “Would you like to go running with me tomorrow after work?” During the offseason, they’d run together a few times a week.

  “I…ah…sure.” Her mouth tipped up. A half smile.

  His heart burst in his chest. “Great. I’ll come by and get you.”

  She nodded and scampered across the rest of the bridge, Touchdown prancing behind her.

  He clutched the briefs to his chest. Something had changed last night. She still loved him.

  More than anything he wished she could remember the words she’d told him last night.

  Chapter 18

  Andy took a minute out of his jam-packed Monday to check his emails as he chomped on a sandwich. He’d seen fifteen patients so far today and expected he’d see at least that again before he headed home. There were a couple emails from the hospital administrator with hospital policy reminders about MRSA. A patient had contracted the staph infection after having open heart surgery, and everyone was in a panic from the hospital board down to the cleaning staff. He’d taken to showering and changing at the hospital before he went home.

  He texted Natalie again. She’d told him she was mostly recovered from her hangover, but hadn’t said much else beyond thanking him for returning her car. He wondered how she was digesting the news that Dare Valley High had offered Blake the head coaching position, but that was a topic he knew not to raise. Sometime this week he’d have to thank Blake for acting as his wingman and looking after his sister. The way Natalie had acted with Blake under the influence gave him hope. She still loved him. It had been all over her face.

  A Skype chat box appeared in the right-hand corner of his screen, and he grinned. Lucy O’Brien was typing.

  Hey Andy Cakes. How’s it hanging?

  Only his best friend going back to kindergarten could ask him that. Not even
his sisters could get away with it. He set his turkey on whole wheat back on the thin cafeteria napkin and rubbed his hands on his blue scrubs.

  Hanging a little longer now that it’s summer. Winter’s a bitch on male pride.

  He was already grinning. They hadn’t seen each other much in the last few years. She’d come to Kim’s funeral, of course, and they’d met up for lunch when she flew into Denver International Airport on her trip home for Christmas last year. Other than that, she spent most of her time overseas, taking heart-breaking and inspiring photos in developing countries. Magazines like National Geographic and non-profit organizations like CARE International loved her work, making her successful at what she did. She’d always had sass as a kid, but as an adult she seemed fearless and unshakeable. Lucy O’Brien was a force of nature.

  LOL. Male pride indeed. Didn’t know you had a complex. Hah. How’s all your saving the world stuff going?

  Some people thought doctors were gods—lower capital g. He didn’t. His father had shown him that they were all too human. And after Kim’s diagnosis, he’d been forced to face the depths of his helplessness. He’d been trained to heal, and he’d failed his partner. But Lucy understood his calling. It was something they shared. She traveled the world to tell stories through pictures. He stayed in a building with over three hundred hospital beds and took care of those who needed him. Even when he couldn’t make them all better.

  Hospital stuff is fine.

  How’s Danny? she typed.

  Wonderful. He’s playing T-ball, and he scrunches up his face when he’s trying to hit the ball.

  So far his son tended to hit the ball more than he missed it, which was earning him some special attention from his coach. Andy only wanted him to have fun. Competition would inevitably come later. Danny had faced enough adult emotions and situations in his life. Andy wanted to preserve his child’s precious innocence for as long as he could.

  He must have gotten that from Kim. As I remember, you sucked at baseball.

  Everyone else—even his family—tiptoed around talking about all the things Danny had inherited from Kim. Not Lucy. It was one of the many things he appreciated about her.

  Thank God for that, huh? Do you remember when I hit my own face with the bat? Shudder. I still have nightmares. So, what part of this awesome world are you in?

  He braced himself. When she wasn’t in touch with him, he knew she most likely didn’t have access to email. Many of the places she visited didn’t even have electricity or running water, least of all Internet. Sure, some of the hotels she stayed in did, but when she drove into the bush, as she liked to call it, she was far from modern conveniences. And he couldn’t help but worry.

  I’m in Congo. You should see it. It’s one of the most beautiful and terrifying places I’ve ever visited.

  Congo? His respiration altered. His heart rate picked up a few beats per minute. Stress. Anxiety. He knew the symptoms.

  Aren’t they having a war over there, Luce?

  He hoped using her nickname would soften the question.

  I’ll have you know I take some of my best pictures in a war. Don’t worry. I know how to take care of myself.

  She always said that, but it didn’t make him less afraid when he found out she was in a place where she could easily be killed. He’d lost Kim. He didn’t want to lose his old friend too.

  Be careful. Please. This is the daddy in me talking.

  You sound like Harry. He wants me to come home and take over Hairy’s. Like that would work. I’m not hairy enough.

  Her dad had started Hairy’s Irish Pub before she was born. He’d been drinking to celebrate opening his business while he wrote up the paperwork, hence his infamous mistake of calling the bar Hairy’s and not Harry’s. While Andy loved the place, he had trouble imagining Lucy being confined by that one space. The world was Lucy’s oyster.

  I was there the other night with Natalie. It never changes in the best way possible.

  The best brews always flowed from the tap. The peppy Irish music always played in the background. And the crowd…well, there were always people to meet.

  I met someone there as part of my foray back into dating. Kim wanted it.

  Sure, he broke out into a sweat every time he thought about going out with Valerie. They had texted, but he’d put off setting up a time and date for their get-together, blaming his schedule at the hospital. His chest grew tight as he thought about doing things like holding the door open for her or putting his hand on the small of her back as they walked to their table.

  Do YOU want to start dating again? Lucy typed after a short delay.

  He studied the screen, his throat in a choke-hold now. It was a question he was trying to avoid, so leave it to Lucy to ask what needed to be asked. Only to her and Natalie could he confess the truth.

  Not really. I could probably die a widower, but is that me cutting myself off from human contact and hiding or…shit…is that me worrying I’ll never find someone nearly as wonderful as Kim?

  Few women are as wonderful as Kim. Make sure you hold out. You have to WANT this, Andy, or you’ll be miserable. The woman too. Don’t listen to all that cultural bullshit about moving on from the death of a spouse after one to two years. Listen to your heart. It’s always your best guide.

  This is why he looked forward to her emails and their chat sessions. Sometimes she knew him better than he knew himself. No one besides Kim had ever known him that way.

  You’re a prophet. A goddess. People should worship the ground you walk on.

  I was in a polygamist village last week. Don’t think it didn’t happen. I still have my crown.

  If it had been anyone else, he’d have sworn she was joking. When you come home, you’ll have to show me that. When ARE you coming BTW?

  The cursor flashed as he waited for her to type. Glancing at the clock, he realized he needed to get back to work.

  Not sure. I’ll be out on location for a while this time. We have to zigzag around a bit.

  What she meant was there was a freaking war underway, so she had to travel around the battles. Sweat beaded his brow as he thought of the danger. He wanted to write: Come home. Please. Stop making us so worried. Why can’t you settle for a calm, normal life?

  But he knew her answer. He knew her. She’d never be happy tied to one place.

  Instead he wrote: Take care of yourself. Shoot those fabulous pics of yours and send me some so I can see where you are. Danny loves them.

  She was always sending him shots of the places she traveled and all the people she encountered. When Danny was old enough, she’d started taking pics of animals too—something new for her. His son still kept the photo of the baby camel she’d shot in Egypt in his room. The funny, fuzzy face always elicited a smile. Lucy had liked the little fella because he was unabashedly goofy, like her.

  Get back to sticking people with needles and stuff, you medical cretin. The generator will be going out soon, which means lights out for me. I feel like a kid again, going to sleep at nine o’clock.

  No lights after nine. She’d mentioned that rule before on other trips to equally remote locations. He wondered how she bathed. Some places didn’t even have water, he knew, and even the ones that did might not have clean water. He made himself stop obsessing over her living conditions, not to mention all the diseases, worms, and viruses he’d heard horror stories about.

  Speaking of sticking people. Please tell me your shots are up to date.

  Yes, Dad. Now go back to work. I’ll write when I’m back. Big hug. Luce.

  Be waiting to hear from you. Keeping you in my thoughts. Hugging you back. Andy.

  She signed off, and he wanted to click her back. The worry still lingered, as it did every time he knew his fearless friend was somewhere particularly dangerous. As he finished his sandwich, he took a moment to call in some help.

  Watch out for her, Kim. I’m counting on you.

  He went back to work feeling a little more at peace.

/>   The best angel in the universe was looking out for his best friend halfway around the world.

  Chapter 19

  Monday started as a real bitch of a day. She’d dreamed about Kim. While she couldn’t remember what she and her best friend had talked about, it didn’t matter. In the dream, they were together again, laughing, Blake’s hand rested in quiet connection around her shoulders, and Touchdown was splayed at their feet—just like it used to be. She was sweating and panting when she awoke, and so cold she had to spend over thirty minutes in the shower to get warm again.

  After finally falling into the numb place inside her, she made her way to work. Jill popped her head in as she was drinking her first cup of Italian espresso made from Terrance’s incredible machine in the High Stakes’ kitchen. Her cousin danced a salsa all the way to her desk.

  “Sooo,” she drew out, waggling her rusty-colored eyebrows. “Someone hung out with her ex and scads of gorgeous football players on Saturday night.”

  Not that she could recall much of it. “Yes. Andy and I ran into them.”

  “I heard you beat them at darts and pool from Hairy’s bouncer. He’s a regular at Don’t Soy With Me.”

  Of course he was. The giant of a man probably liked hazelnut soy lattes.

  “Can we not do this?” she pleaded, a headache starting at her temples. “I have work to do, and this whole…thing…makes me uncomfortable.”

  Jill slouched her frame and walked to the door like a chagrined child. “Okay.”

  Her voice was downright pathetic, which made Natalie feel instantly guilty. “Hey. I’m sorry.”

  Her cousin spun around. “I’m sorry too. I keep forgetting how hard this must be for you. It’s just I saw the pics on Twitter and Facebook. You looked so happy again. Some people were hinting…well…”

  Oh no. She knew what was coming, but she asked anyway, “What?”

  “Ah…” Her cousin studied her shoes like they held the keys to making millions. “They were hinting…that is…implying—”