Chapter 19

Barb’s turn:

In retrospect I did a complete flip-flop. A year ago Gramma and Grampa took me to dinner with them to meet two other couples. I can’t say I was scared, but Gramma’s comment was that I was very obviously out of my comfort zone.

Last night I went with Paul to dinner with his boss and his wife and I walked in and it was like <<click>> ‘Barb, you got this’.

I got introduced to Larry and Nicole, both mid-fortyish. She’s pleasant-looking, obviously takes care of herself, maybe a few pounds overweight, but who cares, right?!? The guy? Greying, thickening, twinkly eyes that tell me a lot is going on inside his head, but the expression when he sees me and Paul is one of genuine happiness.

His wife Nicole was smiling, too. “Barb, please tell me that’s NOT a natural red,” she smiled.

“No, it’s pure ‘freak of nature’ red,” I returned. “Not exactly what I needed to hide in the crowd.”

We sat down. Nicole kept going on about my hair. “Seriously, I don’t do a thing. No perms. No colors. Just wash it and brush it and here it is. Paul says he likes it and it’s been this way since we met.”

“Well, I have to tell Larry what he’s gonna like when I do something with mine,” Nicole countered.

“I think it looks nice. Kinda free and sporty.” I was serious. I might not be very old, but I’ve seen women sporting some high-maintenance hairdos. I never saw the point myself.

“I guess I could do that to Paul,” I grinned, “but so far, he’s been happy the way things are.”

“We gotta keep ‘em happy,” she smiled. I looked at her husband. He did not appear to be suffering in the least. And I know that Paul, well, we BOTH lack nothing in any sphere involved in a relationship.

Drink order time. This is Texas. Sweet tea all around. This little family eatery didn’t sell alcohol, allowing me to avoid the ‘I’m too young to drink’ revelation. I didn’t even raise an eyebrow when I chose lemonade over sweet tea. Iced sweet tea is neck and neck with beer as the go-to for quenching thirst at a meal in Texas, and if the truth be known, across the South.

The menu offered a good selection of choices, the majority of them fried. I knew Paul had his eyes (and stomach) set on a chicken-fried steak. I made the same choice.

Orders out of the way, Nicole jumped in again. “Following your hubby to Outer Mongolia, did you have to put your career on hold?”

I shook my head, not quite enough to cause Paul’s hair fetish to override his common sense. “Actually, no. One thing is that I’m a long-distance college student. I’m doing MIT math courses.”

“MATH at MIT?” Larry choked. “Damn, Paul! You married a SMART one?” Nicole’s elbow in his ribs was delightfully obvious.

Paul’s not the least bit slow. “She lured me in with the red hair.” He sipped his tea. “The next thing I knew, she showed me her ... vocabulary.”

Nicole snickered. “Math, though?”

“I don’t have trouble with language or history, and if I’m going into science or engineering or whatever, math’s gonna be part of it, so ... math.”

“You’re thinking of engineering?”

“I don’t have to make a choice right now. I’ve considered. But I’m waiting to see how my OTHER career goes.”

“Other career?” Nicole questioned.

“I’m about to get my first book published. Young adult stuff – sword and sorcery meets sci-fi. You know Paul’s a published sci-fi author, right?”

“Larry, you never mentioned that.” She arched an eyebrow at him.

“And Harrison Plamer makes custom duck calls, baby. I don’t tell you everything about the people I work with. Just never came up in conversation.”

“Just makes him more interesting,” Nicole replied. “So Paul’s an author...”

“And I decided that if HE can do it, I can do it. So I started. I’m working with his agent and I’ve got a publisher breathing down my neck for my first book to publish in late winter. And I can do THAT from here, too. So, no, relocating temporarily doesn’t hurt my career progress. What about you, though?” I countered, tossing the ball back into her end of the court.

“I own a little medical staffing company. I have a great manager who takes care of day-to-day operations and I’m a phone call away. And since I can do it, I hooked into the local hospital for fill-in work. I’m a registered nurse, but I also do medical coding, so I can be picky about what I do.”

“Yeah,” Larry inserted, “PRN (auth note: medical shorthand for ‘as-needed’) nurses usually get the crappy hours, but I told ‘er that she didn’t HAVE to work at all.”

“I could stay home and crochet doilies,” Nicole laughed. “Except ‘home’ is a big travel trailer.”

“The world needs more doilies,” Paul quipped.

“I like our travel trailer,” I said. “Of course our house back home is only like a thousand square feet, so it’s cozy, too.”

“Didn’t you inherit a cabin at Cedar Beach?” Larry questioned.

“Yeah, Dad and Mom’s retirement dream. They built after the last hurricane went through there. All was left of the one they replaced was a set of pilings that survived a Category Four hurricane. He made sure that the new cabin would stand a chance for the next storm.”

“I’d still evacuate,” Larry stated.

“Oh, I can guarantee that,” Paul returned. “Storms have erased the place before. Dad built on pilings that survived the last one, like I said. I’m not putting us on the line in a storm just to prove somebody’s math was correct.”

“But we love our beach house,” I inserted. “Since autumn came, the mosquitoes aren’t too bad, and an early morning cup of coffee on the balcony overlooking the Gulf, it’s the stuff of poetry. Miles and miles of ‘long walks on the beach’.”

“Which we normally do on bicycles or the ATV,” Paul added.

“And it all started when I ran ‘im out of the shade and into the Gulf for a swim,” I said. “Sometimes he’s hopelessly slow on the uptake. Started out ‘friend’ then ‘tutor’ and then he got stuck.”

“Yeah,” Paul laughed. “What was I supposed to do, putting the moves on a college girl?” At least he glommed onto my cover story. I worry that announcing that I’m fourteen might put the conversation onto the wrong path. Yeah, I know we’re completely legal, but that’s just the law. How people feel is important, too.

The dinner proceeded pleasantly. Conversation was free and unstrained. We talked about work for the guys and school experiences for everybody, leaving me tiptoeing around my own short educational experience.

The food exceeded expectations. I can’t remember eating a country-fried steak before. It’s not a Cajun dish and I just never ran across one. I’ll have another in the future. Darned good! And the restaurant was generous with portioning. I’ll ask for a half size next time. As dinner drew to a close I found myself watching Paul’s face as he talked with Larry. That’s MY guy. My partner. My friend. My chosen.

Goodbyes were said in the parking lot. I was absolutely sincere in wanting to do this again. Next time, HALF a chicken-fried steak, though.

In the truck, rumbling our way back to our neat little nest, he glanced sideways. “You’re not a mess of tears. Seriously, did you enjoy yourself?”

“Great company,” I returned. “I like Nicole. The age gap didn’t slow either of us down.”

“Age. I caught that ‘college girl’ move. Very slick.”

“Didn’t use to be this devious,” I snickered. “Has something to do with consorting with older men.”

“No doubt. I gotta watch out for cute women.”

“You still think I’m cute. That’s encouraging. Nicole was nice-looking.”

“She was. Bit of a production, though, hair, makeup ... You roll out of bed in the morning too cute for me to imagine. You’ve always been that way.”

“Mmmm,” I vocalized, letting the pictures in my mind wander back to that first day I talked with him as he was typing at his table in the screened patio under our house. “You didn’t fall to the ground, foaming at the mouth as you lost control, though...”

“Only the utmost in self-restraint kept me from doing so. Not a pedophile.”

“You mean ‘hebephile’. Pedos are about kids.”

“You were still thirteen.”

I harrumphed, “And I am timeless. Just like the characters in my stories.”

“Stories? More than one?”

“I have others brewing. But first, we get home. I desire...” I smiled, “ ... all sorts of things.”

“That sounds promising,” he grinned.

“Not a promise. An imperative.” I felt the truck surge, giggled. “Are we anxious?”

“Thinking about dessert, my little morsel.”

“I DEFINITELY over ate, baby. You’re going to have to be very gentle.”

“I started to warn you.”

“Wouldn’t’ve worked. That was truly a great meal.”

“I promise I’ll be gentle.”

“You’ll have to be.”

“You can take something to settle your stomach before you shower,” he advised,.

“Are you trying to get me into better shape for a strenuous romp?

“No romp. Just want you comfortable enough for a good cuddle. Past that...”

“Sorry I’m not perkier. I really had a good time.”

“I watched,” he said. “I worry about getting you in over your head.”

That’s something I’ve noticed. Paul as protector. “I know you do. But I’ve gotten better. Since you and me have been together,, I feel like I have better control of things.”

“We’re good for each other.”

I smiled. “Meant to be. Might look strange with the age difference, but definitely meant to be.”