FLIGHT FROM OBSESSION CHAPTER SIX

She woke early Saturday morning with a slight headache after a restless night. Abby knew what was troubling her. Cliff was avoiding her phone calls and she wanted the whole thing settled and over. The phone jarred her back to reality. 

“Good morning, Abby,” Tess’s cheerful voice sang over the wire. 

“Have you looked out the window?  It’s a bloody awful day,” Abby snapped. 

“Whatever happened to that nice, Susie Sunshine, who used to live at this telephone number,” Tess asked?

“Did you discover that there really is no Santa Claus or did you have a date with Cliff last night?” 

“Not funny, Tess, and no more dates with Cliff.  I’ll tell you all about it when I see you.” 

“Just think, now you can concentrate on the boy next door,” Tess responded.

Abby groaned. 

“Cheer up Abby; it’s going to be a great day as soon as the fog burns off.  Anyway, thanks for the flowers, they’re beautiful,” Tess rang off.

After her conversation with Tess Abby felt like a grump.  Darn, it's Tess' big day and I'm a nothing but a 'party pooper'. She took two aspirin, a hot shower and trudged downstairs to check the baked beans that had been cooking all night. They smell great she thought to herself.

The front doorbell rang and she went to answer the door and found a delivery boy standing there.

"Abby Cavanaugh," he asked, squinting at the scrawled handwriting?"

"Yes," she said taking the small package, "let me get you something."

"It's been taken care of," he responded brightly.

"Thanks," she said closing the door.

Hungry she scrambled two eggs and made toast to go with her mug of tea.  As she sat at the table eating she noticed the sun was breaking up the fog.  Tess was right; it was going to be a beautiful day.

She looked at the package again and decided it wasn't going to bite her. She tore it open.

"Oh, they're so beautiful," she exclaimed.

Inside, nestled in tissue lay a pair of dainty, grey gloves with a tiny button at the wrist.  The card said, "For next time. Blackie."

What’s wrong with me, getting into such a blue funk, she asked herself?  The summer’s all stretched out in front of me, I have a warm cozy home, and I’m spending the day with great friends.

She stopped and thanked God for all of her blessings and picked Waif up and gave her a good petting, “What a thankless creature, I am.”

She washed her hands and took the potatoes and eggs boiled the previous day out of the refrigerator and began assembling the potato salad. Let’s see potatoes, eggs, pickles, pimento, celery, onions fresh parsley, did I forget anything she asked herself?

It all went into a huge plastic bowl, and then she made the dressing, mixed, and popped the lid on the bowl. Licking her fingers she put the covered pan of baked beans into a cozy.

She ran upstairs and pulled on a pair of faded jeans, tennis shoes and an old tee shirt from her alma mater. She was all set for a fun day of softball and food with her friends.  

The sunny ride through green rolling hills with Julie London singing Camelot raised her spirits even more and by the time she reached the Tanaka’s mailbox she was her usual, bubbly self.

She turned into the driveway and her tires crunched on gravel as she drove between neatly planted fields.  She passed the original farmhouse where the older Tanaka’s lived with the younger children and then drove on to the house Ken and Sherri built when they married.        

Their home was a modern version of the original farmhouse surrounded by colorful flower beds and rich black fields of thriving crops all framed by the green hills.

The land had sustained this growing Tanaka clan since the older Tanaka’s had been released from a WWII detention camp.  They were decent, honest, hard working people who lived frugally so their family and business had grown and thrived.

As Abby parked under a grove of trees behind the house Tom sprinted from the porch.  He was dressed in faded cutoffs and a Save the Whales tee shirt.

“Hey, Professor, need any help carrying things?” he asked.

She handed him the baked beans and then climbed out of the camper.

“Thanks, I could use a hand,” she grinned up at him.

“Are you ready to do battle on the playing field?” he asked.

She laughed, “It’s been a long time since I handled a mitt and bat but I was pretty good at one time.”

They laughed and chatted together as she carried the potato salad and he carried the baked beans to the house. She went into the kitchen and helped Sherri while the men set out the bases and readied the barbecue.

Sherri was a veterinarian with an office near the campus so she and Abby often had lunch together in town.  Sherri was a career woman, a promising artist, a mother and a wife.  Abby often wondered how she fulfilled all of those roles and still appeared so serene.

“I don’t know how you do it Sherri; I wear myself out just taking care of career and home. Where do you get all of your energy?” Abby asked.

I get lots of help. Ken, his parents, his little sister, Dani, we manage.”

“Besides, you do a lot more than teach a subject, Abby, you take your students under your wing,” Sherri said.

“Just part of the job,” Abby said, “And they’re great kids, I love them all.”

“Don’t you want some of your own, Abby?” Tom asked from the backdoor.

“Hey, eavesdropper, don’t you have anything better do than snoop around?” Sherri asked.

“I was just coming in the door,” he excused himself.

“Right, Tom, Fred Gurney had you pegged as a snoop before you even got moved in,” Abby teased.

They all laughed and Sherri said, “We’re almost finished.”

“Do you have more coffee,” Tom asked, flopping into a chair, “Then Abby can answer my question”.

“That’s up to her,” Sherri said, handing Tom the coffee, ready to defend her friend.

“Sure I want kids,” Abby said, “I was an only child and I want my kids to have brothers and sisters. How about you?” she asked Tom.

“I know what you mean about brothers and sisters.  This town is perfect for raising kids.  I don’t think I’d try it in a city,” Tom said.

Josie, the family toddler, sat on Abby’s lap while Sherri and Abby talked; but Josie had her eyes on Tom, playing peek a boo with him.

“I’d steal this one in a flash but I know I couldn’t get away with it,” Tom said and made a funny face at Josie.

“She’s already a shameless flirt,” Sherri giggled.

“You must be talking about my youngest,” Ken said as he walked into the kitchen, putting his arms around Sherri’s waist from behind her.

While the group sat in the kitchen and chatted they heard cars arriving and doors slamming as more people arrived.

“Let’s get the game started,” Ken said on his way to the backdoor, “I want to see if this old man can still hustle,” he said gripping Tom’s shoulder.

They all walked outside and greeted the new arrivals.  As soon as things settled down Ken divided the assorted group into two teams, while trying to achieve some kind of competitive balance.  Tom and Ken led the two teams.  Abby ended up on Ken’s team playing center field, her old high school position.

She was stiff and awkward at first because it had been so long but she soon loosened up and began to get a feel for the game again.  She joined the others in ribbing chatter, shouting insults at the batter and encouraging her teammates.

They were tied and decided to play one more inning before the barbecue and food.

At the bottom of the last inning Abby stood in the hot, dusty outfield shading her eyes from the sun.  Tom was at bat and Ken was pitching when a high fly ball sailed out toward her. She faded back trying to keep her eyes on the ball in the sun and punching her mitt with her fist.  Back and back she faded and then she tripped on the rough field just as the ball reached her, but she recovered her balance and came up with the ball.  Joy filled her because it was the last out and she had the game ball.  She was so happy she was jumping up and down with excitement.

Her teammates rushed out and surrounded her in a cheering victorious mass carrying her on their shoulders from the outfield.  Tom ran out and lifted her up in a bear hug, “Hey, you caught my homerun, professor, but I forgive you as long as you promise us a rematch.”

His body felt hard and warm against hers and she gloried in the comfortable fit.  He put her down but grabbed her hand and raised it in victory.  He held it up all the way to the house. 

It was a boisterous, happy crowd around the picnic tables that afternoon with much razzing for the losers and planning for a rematch.

Abby couldn’t believe her appetite, two helpings of everything.  Hamburgers, beans, salads, chips, relishes, several desserts all washed down with icy cold ice tea.

Ken, Sherri, Tom, and Abby sat there after the others left; stuffed and lethargic as the sun began its descent in the west.  They talked about everything from politics to their careers and the latest books they read.

Ken persuaded Tom to help out with the Little League team he coached.

“I’d love to help, Ken, that sort of thing is why I came back to the Cove.” He stretched and said, “You lose touch with the important things in life in the big city.  Writing checks and attending charity events just doesn’t cut it,” he said.

Ken patted his back with affection.  They had been friends since grammar school and Ken was going to enjoy having him back in town. 

“Ken, just give me a couple of weeks to get settled in and we’ll work out a schedule.”

Tom and Abby finally roused themselves and gathered their things and loaded their cars. 

Abby put her jacket on and gave Sherri and Ken big hugs, “I’m so glad I came,” she said, “It was a great day and thanks for everything.”

“Thank you Abby, you brought some pretty tasty stuff yourself,” Ken said and Sherri seconded.

“Yeah, and she brought a pretty good catch to the game too,” Ken said.

Tom laughed with humor, “I’ll be hearing about that the rest of my life, I bet.  You should get Abby to coach, Ken.”

“Oh no, you don’t, that’s man’s work, I only do it for fun,” Abby said, picking up the ball she caught and put it into her jacket pocket.

They all laughed and Tom followed Abby to her car, “I know we’re not dressed for it but let’s make a quick stop at the Inn and see how Tess’s opening is going,” he said to Abby.  “I ran into her in town the other day and she was really excited,” he said.

“You’re right, we’re not dressed for it,” she hesitated.

“Aw, come on we’ll sneak into the bar for one quick drink and see how things are going.  Aren’t you curious?” he asked.

“Yes, actually I am, but let’s not stay for too long,” she said.

“Good, I’ll follow you,” he said.

After Tom and Abby got into their cars and drove off, Ken and Sherri sat talking and enjoying one other’s company. 

“They make a nice couple, don’t they Ken?” she asked.

“Yeah, I guess they do.  I’ve always liked Tom and Abby sure deserves better than Mr. Fish and Game,” he answered.

“Do you think Tom is interested in her,” Sherri asked, “He seemed pretty attentive.”

“Time will tell, honey. Meantime, let’s go get our crew to bed so I can show you that I’m still pretty interested in you,” he said grinning at her.

They walked arm and arm to the house, cozy in their familiarity.

Abby watched Tom’s headlights in her rearview mirror as she drove toward the coast. She had more fun today than she had in a long time.  Funny, how Cliff came across so much more driven and ambitious than Tom. Cliff was more like Mark, she realized.

Mark turned out to be a mediocre anthropologist who married Abby because of her father’s influence in the field.  He was using both of them to try and further his career.  Mark liked working in a suit in a temperature controlled, carpeted office building.  He’d never get grubby in the field and without fieldwork an anthropology career was dead in the water.

Between his trying to use the two of them instead of his own work to get ahead plus his string of casual affairs Abby had ordered him out of the house.

Tom rapped on the window and she realized she had been sitting there for several minutes.

“Still awake, professor?” he asked.

She got out and smiled up at him shaking off the gloom that had engulfed her for the moment.

“I’m just so full, I couldn’t move,” she answered.

Tom put his arm around her shoulders and they walked toward the Inn.

Her earlier mood returned and she giggled as they entered the small bar adjacent to the dining room.

“I feel like a little kid sneaking into a grownup party,” she said.

“Do you suppose we’ll get served,” he asked, light hearted with her nearness.  He thought he lost her there for a minute but she was back. 

“You might have to borrow a tie,” she said mischievously.

They found one empty stool in the bar and Tom stood behind her, “What would you like, Abby?”

“Make it two,” Tom said to the local behind the bar.

“Heard you were back in town, Tom, welcome,” the bartender said.

“Hi Mitch, give up your fishing boat for a shore job?” Tom asked as they shook hands.

“Oldest boy runs the “Mollie” now, just earning a little extra pocket money here on weekends,” Mitch answered.

Abby hadn’t been in the small bar which was here for the convenience of dining room customers waiting for tables.  The bar seated six to eight in a pinch and there were two armless settees with an armchair at each end and an arched doorway to the dining room at the end of the room.  The color scheme from the dining room carried into the bar and instead of a mirror behind the bar there were several large photographs celebrating the history of the cove, ships lanterns and a couple of brass portholes were mounted on the wall and vases of flowers were scattered around the room.

Tom looked around and said, “This is great, Tess really caught the cove didn’t she, Abby?”

The room was full but everyone was relaxed and comfortable in their surroundings.

“Yes, she did, she’s very creative and it doesn’t look at all touristy.”

Abby smiled at several people she knew, completely forgetting her attire.

“How are you, Abby, showing Tom all the new sights in town?” Mitch asked.

She grinned at him, “We just snuck in to see how the opening is going. The dining room looks packed,” she said.

“Has been all evening and we’re booked until closing,” Mitch offered.

Just then Tess popped her head into the bar.  She worked her way toward them greeting everyone with a touch, a smile, and a word or two.

“Hey, did you two come just to dress the place up?” she asked.

“Sorry, Tess,” Abby said, “But we just had to see how you were doing on your big night.”

Several customers had been ushered into the dining room so Tess said, “Let’s sit for a minute,” and Abby and Tom moved to the settee.

Tess slipped off one of her shoes, “Everything’s wonderful. I can’t believe how smoothly everything is going, Abby, those kids you sent me are doing a great job.  I trained them hard but they’re smart and dependable.”

“I’m glad they worked out, Tess. We’re just on our way home from the Tanaka’s and we had to stop and see how you were doing.”

Tess patted Tom on the shoulder, “Did you hit a homerun, pal?” she asked.

Tom groaned and dropped his head in mock humility.

“Yeah, he did,” Abby said, “But I caught it,” she said pulling the ball from her jacket pocket and holding it aloft.

Tess couldn’t stop laughing and gave Abby a ‘thumbs up’ and went back into the dining room.

“You don’t seem bothered by the teasing,” Abby said.

“It’s all good natured,” he said, “So it doesn’t bother me. He sipped his coffee, “That’s another thing I like about small towns, not as much one ups man ship. Everything is more relaxed and kind of family.”

“You’re right, it is.”  Abby thought about Mark and Cliff, neither one of them would have understood that.  He drive from the Tanaka’s had cleared up a few things in her mind.  She was no longer depressed about either man now that she understood where she had gone wrong in evaluating them. 

“Wool gathering?” he asked, borrowing one of her expressions.

“Just a little, it was a nice day,” she said, “I enjoyed it.”

“Mind a personal question, Abby?” he asked.

She turned to him and smiled, “I won’t promise to answer,” she said.

“O.K., here goes,” he said, taking a deep breath, “You told me that you’re divorced,” he said, “but I can’t seem to get to get a straight answer about whether you’re involved with someone or even dating.  No one gossips about Abby Cavanaugh,” he said.

She was surprised about his question and even a little speechless.  She took a sip of coffee.

Finally, she said, “Last week I would have told you, yes, I’m dating someone.  But now I’m not so sure,” she said.

Mitch brought them more coffee as people kept filtering through the bar to the dining room from outside.  She was sitting in one of the arm chairs and he was seated on the end of the settee, turned toward her.

“I’m sorry to be so vague but he’s out of town right now and we haven’t had a chance to talk.  Things have been kind of riding for a while,” she paused and looked at him.  “Do you know what I mean?” she asked.

He brushed a curl from her check, “Actually, I do know what you mean,” he said, “I was dating someone in L.A. like that.  We knew each other for quite a while and I hadn’t met anyone I was really attracted to so I guess I stayed where I was comfortable.  You don’t know how daunting the dating scene is in L.A. Well,” he laughed, “It was fun when I was young but now it’s a headache.”

She was getting sleepy when he said, “Listen, I’m driving back down south tomorrow to pick up my dog and get the rest of my stuff packed and shipped. Will you have dinner with me next Thursday?” 

She started to object and he said, “Look, if you decide you’re committed it’ll be just a friendly dinner to make up for the dinner you fixed for me.  If you’re not committed,” he shrugged, “we’ll go from there.”

The pressure off, she said, “Sounds fair enough, Tom, but I really should be getting home. I’m falling asleep right here,” she admitted.

“Me too,” he said, “I have a long drive tomorrow.”

Abby watched his headlights in her rearview mirror again as they made the short drive home.  Tom walked back to her garage and then walked her to her backdoor. 

He kissed her cheek and told her to be sure and lockup as he walked quickly over to his dark empty house.

(C) Karen MacEanruig

 

 

FLIGHT FROM OBSESSION - CHAPTER FIVE

 
   Abby started the camper and made a quick stop at the administration building to pick up her mail tossing it in the passenger seat and then headed out of town. Whoops, I almost forgot Tess’ grand opening at the Inn on Saturday. Rerouting she stopped at the florists and went in expecting to see Dani Tanaka behind the counter. 

    “Is Dani Tanaka here?” Abby asked the elderly man behind the counter.     

    “She’s in back arranging flowers,” the old man said.  

   “That’s all right,” Abby said and placed an order for a large arrangement to be delivered to Tess at her Inn on Saturday morning. 

   Back in her camper and once more headed home Abby passed two dress shops she liked and saw that they had new window displays. She circled the block and found parking near the store and went in to browse. 

    “Hi, Joanne, do you have anything new in my size?” Abby asked.  Abby was a regular and the store’s staff knew her well.    

  “Hi Abby, we have a whole new shipment of summer dresses in and the spring dresses are on sale. We’ve been unpacking and racking the summer line all morning so you’re getting the first look,” Joanne said.   

  She browsed the new selection and said, “Oh oh, I think I feel a shopping spree coming on.” She already had several things on her arm to take to the dressing room.    

 “Here, let me take those and set up a room for you,” Joanne said, “taking the dresses.”   

Abby gave in to the urge and soon was in the corner dressing room trying on everything that caught her eye. There were so many beautiful colors out this year that she just couldn’t resist.  One dress in dress in particular pleased her, it was a washed moss green sheath with small splashes of muted orange and when she tried it on it fit perfectly.  She already had a hat that would look good with the dress and she would find gloves.     

     An alarm went off in her head, was she buying new dresses because of Blackie, or maybe Tom she thought? Nonsense, I’m buying new dresses because I’m starting to date again and I deserve some new, colorful, happy dresses.   

 Two hours later Abby was standing at the checkout counter, inwardly winching, as she watched her total steadily increase but she was pleased with her choices as the stock boy helped her to camper with the shopping bags.   

 She drove around the corner to a boutique that Joanne had recommended to look for gloves and again spent more than she intended but she liked the fashion flair the accessories would add to her new ensembles.

     Abby lifted her shoulders and faked a model’s runway walk as she returned to the camper with her new bundles and headed home.   

     When Abby got home with all of her new dresses she took great pleasure in hanging them in her walk-in closet and putting the accessories away in the clear boxes she purchased for that purpose.  She felt like a squirrel with a tree full of acorns, ready for anything. No more dull evenings with Cliff, I am a social butterfly, she laughed at herself.      

     She tried calling Cliff at his office with no success and then called Sherri Tanaka to confirm herself for the Saturday barbeque. Abby was assigned potato salad and baked beans because Ken loved both of Abby’s versions of those dishes.     

     Sherri said that both she and Ken were looking forward to the barbeque and little Josie kept chattering about Tom from their encounter at the potluck.     

      Abby laughed and asked, “Do you think he’ll wait for her to grow up, Sherri?   

    “Sherri giggled and said, “It would be an awfully long engagement.” 

    “By the way, Sherri, have you ever been to the, City Park deli?” 

    “Doesn’t sound familiar,” Sherri answered. 

    “Blackie and I had lunch there today and it was super fun for a quick lunch. We’ll have to try it sometime. And,” she told Sherri, “Joanne’s just got a new shipment of dresses in and I went crazy. The colors this summer are amazing.”    

     Sherri was grinning at Ken as she said, “I’ll have to stop by Joanne’s tomorrow after work.”  

     They hung up looking forward to the barbeque and new dresses while Ken rolled his eyes at Sherri, knowing full well what Joanne’s meant.   

     Abby finished up the last week of school early Friday afternoon and when she got home she boiled potatoes and eggs for the potato salad and got the beans ready to go into the oven to slow cook over night. All she had left to do was put the baked beans in the oven tonight and assemble the salad in the morning.   

     She went upstairs and took a long shower and dressed in a green checked shirt, designer jeans and moccasins for the meeting with Jack Brannon. She grabbed a Levi jacket on the way out just in case the wind came up.    

     As she ran out of the back door, Tom waved and said, “I hear you’re going to make it to the game tomorrow?”

 

    She was pleased he cared and said, “Yes, I’m really looking forward to it. Sorry,” she said, “I’m in a bit of a rush right now.” 

    “No problem,” he said, but looked a little crestfallen.   

     She backed out of the drive way and headed to Harvest Hill, hoping that the atmosphere of cooperation developed in Brannon’s office would continue in today’s meeting.  She liked Brannon and felt he was honest despite the way approval was obtained for the development of Harvest Hill.  

     On her way to the meeting she noticed that the hills were already brown from the season’s sun and several years of light rains. Mixed oak and fir growth dotted the landscape and followed the banks of a creek as it wandered down the hill.   

     Abby pulled up in a cloud of dust on the crest of the hill and parked next to Blackie’s car and a pickup truck with Brannon Construction on the side.  She saw Blackie and Brannon, hands in pockets, standing a short distance away.   

     “Hi guys,” Abby called out, “I’m not late am I?” 

    “Not at all Abby,” Brannon said as he extended his hand. 

     She took Jack’s hand and smiled up at Blackie hoping they weren’t here long enough to get into it without her moderating presence.

     “We’re discussing the way approval was obtained for this project,” Blackie said, but he didn’t look unhappy.  

     “Yes,” Brannon said, “It turns out that it was technically legal but,” he nodded in Blackie’s direction, “As I was telling Blackie, it was done that way without my knowledge,” his voice harsh.

    Abby looked from Jack to Blackie, relieved to see the men were on good terms.

    Brannon continued, “Personally, I don’t see the need for subterfuge in my business dealings and I’ve made that clear to my staff.”

    Abby smiled inwardly, I’m glad I wasn’t a member of his staff this week.  I’ll bet they’re still quaking in their boots. With some pleasure she hoped Cliff caught some of that fall out.  

     “Well, Brannon, down to business,” Blackie said bringing them back to the purpose of the meeting.

 

     “Yes,” said Jack, “I think I’ve solved the problem.”  He walked over to the pickup ad took a roll of plans from the cab and spread them out on the bed of the pickup.  Blackie and Abby followed him and looked at the plans.

 

    “You see here,” he said, pointing with his every present pencil, “instead of having the main entrance at the foot of the hill I’ll take the main road up to the top of the hill and have the entrance there.”

    Blackie scrutinized the plans and said, “Yes, I see what you changed.  It will also minimize through traffic, very creative.” 

    Brannon accepted the accolade with a nod, “I figure we’ll build a small park up near the entrance with the monument and parking for visitors. It will be attractive and historical. I’ll finance the park and parking and you can take care of the monument. Fair enough,” he asked as he rolled up the plans? 

    “Absolutely, Brannon, absolutely,” Blackie said as he shook Jack’s hand with real pleasure for the first time.   

    “Do you have the pictures of the artist’s work we want to commission for the monument,” Abby asked Blackie?  

    “Sure, they’re in the car if you have time, to look at them, Brannon.” 

    “It would help in planning the park,” Jack said, “Particularly the approximate size and shape of the monument.”

    Blackie retrieved the envelope and handed the stack of pictures to Brannon.

    Brannon took them and was quiet for several minutes and then he went through the pictures a second time.

    Brannon looked at Blackie and Abby, “These are terrific,” he said, “A hell of a lot more than just a historical marker.”  

    Abby and Blackie exchanged pleased looks. 

    Jack was quiet again as he looked at several of the photographs, “This monument will be a real piece of art,” he said, “We might want to add a nice restroom, and maybe a trail and several benches.” 

    Blackie accepted the photographs back from Brannon, “Thanks,” he said quietly, “both Abby and I are going down next week to check Raintree’s available work and decide if we want to buy something that’s ready or commission something original. Do you have any idea of your completion date?”

 

    “Thanks for showing me those,” Jack said, “I’m afraid Abby is right.  We were butting heads before we really understood each other.”

    Blackie grinned, shaking his head affirmatively, “I have a tendency to jump the gun,” he admitted.

    Jack continued, “It will be at least thirty months to completion but I hope to open up in sections. I have surveyors coming in next week for the road up to the top of the hill and the streets inside the site.”

    Abby was leaning against Blackie’s car with a pleased look on her face. 

    “I hope,” she said, “that in the future we can all be more direct with each other.”

    “I’m more than willing to do that, Abby,” Brannon said with a grin, “But that doesn’t mean I’ll always agree with you, and if I disagree I’ll fight you tooth and nail.”

    “Don’t think I could square off with a better man,” Blackie grinned and slapped Jack on the back.

    They chatted for a while longer and then parted company.

    As Blackie took Abby’s arm in his and walked her to the camper, she asked, “Are you tied up later this evening, we could all meet at my house and celebrate?” 

    “Hey, that’s a great idea,” he said, I could make an announcement to everyone at the same time.  Are you sure it’s not too much trouble,” he asked, frowning?  

    “It’s still early,” Abby said, looking at her watch “let’s get started at seven and finish up by ten. I’ll stop at a deli and take something out of the freezer,” she added, “You can bring beer if you think anyone would like it.”

    Blackie was on his cell phone all the way home calling people on the council to a meeting at Abby’s house. 

    She drove to the deli and bought party cheese, meat, bread and several salads. She would take dessert out of the freezer and make coffee and a citrus punch. Finally home, she put the camper in the garage and lugged the groceries into the house.  

    Moments later she heard Tom’s tap on the back door. 

    “Come in, Tom,” she called as she unloaded the groceries on the counter.

    “Looks like party time,” he said.

    She turned toward him and said, “Yes, Tom, a celebration. I’m so happy,” she said with a hint of tears in her eyes. 

    He hugged her but didn’t know quite what to say, “I’m glad Abby”

    Tom leaned back and saw tears coursing down her cheeks, “Come, let’s sit down for a minute,” and he led her to the window seat.

    She tried to stop the tears but Tom said, “It’s all right, just let it all come out, now.”

    She lifted her head from his shoulder and giggled, “You’re so silly, finish crying now if I’m going to have a party later?”

    He laughed with her, “Now tell me what happened,” he said, “So we can tell if you’re finished crying.”

    “I’m just so grateful to God, Tom. The tribal council has been having trouble with a particular developer and today everything turned out much better than expected. So much better it’s hard to take in,” she said.

    She jumped up and began getting things ready for the party and Tom got up to help her.   

    He waded right in and copied the catering trays he had seen at parties. “There,” he said presenting the two trays; one arranged with cheese and the other with meat, “How’s that,” he asked?   

    She grinned at him as she set up the coffee and fixed the punch. 

    He took a basket Abby set out and sliced up part of each loaf of bread and covered them.

    Finally the two of them arranged everything on the buffet in the living room and Abby even had plenty of time to wash the tears away. 

    She thanked Tom over and over because she felt awkward about crying earlier and she really didn’t want to explain the whole, sordid story about Cliff and the betrayal.   

    Tom said easily, “We seem to work well together and it was fun.”   

    “I wish you could stay, Tom.”   

    “No,” he said, “I’m not a member and it’s a private celebration.” He gave her a big hug and slipped out the back door.  

       Crossing the driveway Tom ran into a big, well-built man carrying a case of beer on his shoulder.  

     “Hello,” the big man said, “You’re Tom Wyatt, aren’t you?” 

     “I am,” Tom said, “And you’re…?” 

      Blackie set the case down and offered his hand, “We went to school together.  I’m Blackie Jordan, first base.” 

    “Well hell, Blackie, you’ve grown a bit since then.  “Great to see you again. Do you still play,” Tom asked? 

    “I’m afraid I don’t have much time anymore, Blackie admitted, “But we do have a Tribal Team.” 

    “We’re having a pickup game tomorrow at Ken Tanaka’s, we could use more players,” Tom said. 

    “By the way,” Tom asked, “Do you play beach volley ball?” 

    “Not since college but I was pretty good and I really love the game,” Blackie answered. 

    “I’ve been thinking about getting some guys together to play this summer.  I have all of the equipment we need.  Interested,” Tom asked? 

    “Sounds great,” Blackie said, “If I can work out the time.” 

    “How busy are your Sunday afternoons,” Tom asked? 

    “Clear unless I have an emergency,” Blackie was beginning to get excited about the idea. 

    “I’ll give you a call. Good seeing you again, Blackie,” Tom said as he wandered back home. 

    Blackie went into the kitchen with the beer, “Hey, Abby, it’s just me,” he said. 

    “Did you reach everyone,” she asked? 

    “Pretty much, I just ran into Tom Wyatt,” he said, “We might be playing some beach volley ball this summer.” 

    “That would be good for you,” she said, “I had him over for dinner his first night in town because nothing was working next door and nothing was open in town.”

    “He’s always seemed to be a straight shooter,” Blackie said. 

    “I’m afraid I made a fool of myself, Blackie, Tom stopped by I burst into tears.” 

    “Why, Abby, things turned out so well?” 

    “Exactly, Blackie, I was just so grateful that my actions didn’t ruin everything. It hit me all at once.”

    “It was my fault, Abby,” he held her hands in his, “I thought about saying a prayer up on the hill then I got all engrossed in celebrating.” 

    “It’s not your fault, Blackie, but we humans do kind of forget God when we’re finished needing him, don’t we?”

    “A good lesson,” he said and dropped her hands when they heard people at the door.  

    They welcomed everyone and assembled in the living room for the meeting.  

    The crowd exclaimed over the buffet that was laid out but Blackie said business first and when Gary arrived he called the meeting to order. 

    He stood in the middle of the living room with a big smile on his face waiting for them to quiet down. 

    “We have much to be grateful for,” he said to them.  “Abby and I met with Jack Brannon up on Harvest Hill earlier today.”

    He waited for quiet again, “Jack Brannon has agreed to a monument on Harvest Hill.  Abby’s report had a lot to do with his agreement.” 

    The crowd applauded while Abby smiled, a little self-consciously. 

    Not only has he agreed to a monument which our Council will purchase, but he will build a park at the top of the hill to accommodate the monument at his own expense.  

    There were war whoops and excited applause.   

    Blackie waited again, “He has agreed to build the park with a parking area, restrooms and trails. 

    They could hardly contain their excitement and finally Blackie raised his hands.  We will thank our God for the generous treatment He has bestowed on us and then Blackie bowed his head and said a prayer of thankfulness.  

    One more thing he said as they started to get up. When they were quiet again, Blackie said, “I want every one of our young people to spend a period of time taking care of that park.  Every weekend a group of our young will go to the park and remove any litter, graffiti or anything else marring its significance. In this way they will show respect for our traditions.

     The council all nodded in agreement understanding the need for tradition. 

    Then Blackie shouted, “Let’s celebrate what our gracious God has given us. 

    There was applause, a few whoops, and some hugging and handshakes. 

    Blackie brought in the cold beer to go with the buffet and the party spread out and new people came in until Blackie chased them all out at eleven. 

    Blackie helped Abby carry everything into the kitchen and gathered all of the garbage to take out. 

    “What are you up to tomorrow,” he asked? 

    She smiled and put the beans in the oven to slow cook overnight.  

    “I’ve been invited to the Tanaka’s for a barbeque,” she said, “I’m taking baked beans and potato salad.” 

    He grinned down at her, “Have fun, Abby,” and kissed her on the forehead, “Do you feel better now,” he asked? 

    “Yes. Much better now, thanks Blackie.” 

    He slipped out with a smile and the garbage. 

     

FLIGHT FROM OBSESSION - CHAPTER FOUR

 True pandemonium broke out next door that Monday and for the rest of the week. Garbage trucks backed into the driveway to unload dumpsters, men, machines and delivery trucks awakened even the early risers of the neighborhood.  Abby accepted it all with her usual good natured cheerfulness – it was almost time to get up anyway.

    Leaving the house she saw that Aunt Bessie’s car was already parked a short way up the street.  I hope Tom keeps his eye on her or she’ll work too hard, Abby thought to herself.

    It was a busy Monday at school.  She had several appointments with students to go over finals and grades and she also worked with the student employment office to find student employees for Tess.

    After a quick lunch she checked her mail and found a note from one of the staffers saying that a man called regarding her employment status at the college but he refused to leave a name or number. Per college policy they didn’t give out any information over the phone. 
   It was the second such call and it alarmed Abby because of her ex husband’s threats but she soon forgot about it in the bustle of tying up loose ends and finishing her progress report for this term and her plans for her next term at the college.   

    Driving home Abby thought about the tribal council meeting she would be hosting in her home that evening.  They were about to enter a new phase in their relationship with the board of supervisors and other government agencies. Tonight would be their final strategy meeting to launch ‘preemptive strike.’ The plan was to get certain historical and cultural sites recognized and recorded before plans for the land became an issue. Abby was the anthropology advisor and authenticator for the council.

    The most current clash about property use, called Harvest Hill, was a bone of contention between Abby and Cliff. Cliff felt  that the particular tract of land that the council wanted designated as an ‘historical site’, was an ideal place for real estate development and that the council would just have to accept the march of progress. 

    Abby, on the other hand, said that the council didn’t want the whole tract designated as a historical site, just a small area to commemorate the annual harvest festival and dance that had been held at that particular  site for hundreds of years. In the end they agreed to disagree.

    Abby fluffed pillows and added last minute touches to the table of coffee and refreshments as she waited for the council members. 

    Earth tone Berber carpet and walls made a perfect backdrop for the autumn hues of her furniture, drapes, and area rugs.  A large fireplace dominated one wall while the adjacent wall was all paned windows with a magnificent ocean view. The remaining two walls were decorated with beautiful American Indian weaving, pottery, baskets, and other authentic pieces that reflected Abby’s good taste and knowledge of her subject.

    She seated each member as they arrived and asked about kids by name or other personal topics to make them feel comfortable and at home. She and the council members sat quietly chatting and sipping coffee as they waited for the leaders to arrive. 

   Finally at 7:15 the two leaders entered together looking troubled about something.  They greeted everyone and quickly called the meeting to order.  Blackie rose to speak.

   “I think I speak for both of us,” Blackie said and continue at Gary’s nod.    

   “Last Friday the County Board of Supervisors convened an unscheduled meeting”

   The council members murmured in surprise.

   “At that meeting they gave Brannon Construction Company authorization for the residential development of Harvest Hill.”

   Now angry shouts came from the council members. 

   “But, Blackie, that’s our first project on the preemptive strike agenda,” Abby said.

   “Does anyone know who called the meeting,” someone asked?

   Their meeting dissolved into chaos while Blackie paced the room, his face marred by anger. Abby knew him as a man of grace, dignity, and gentle humor but tonight his stride and face revealed contained fury.

He collapsed into one of Abby’s easy chairs and kneaded his brow in an unconscious gesture.

   As the group began to quiet and look to Blackie for direction he rose and spoke to them quietly for some time.

   “We aren’t going to accept this action as ‘fait accompli’”.

   Assenting murmurs rose from the group.

   “Tomorrow, I’ll make appointments with the board members and with Jack Brannon, owner of Brannon Construction.”

   The council nodded in agreement.

   Blackie continued, “We aren’t without influence in this community,” he paused, “and we intend to use that influence to test this arbitrary action taken by the supervisors.”

   The council applauded his firm stand.

   “Meanwhile, Gary, our council attorney, will be checking into the legality of the board’s action. Abby, I would like your presence at the meetings I have with the board members and Brannon,” he stopped and waited for their assent.

   Abby nodded her agreement, she was as angry as Blackie. She became angrier still as she realized that someone must have revealed their plans to Brannon or the board.

   Blackie went on, “I think we should reconvene this meeting as soon as we have more information.  I’ll be calling all of you by midweek.”

   They all nodded.

   Blackie raised his arm, fist clenched, “The power brokers and politicos may have won an inning but we will win the game,” he promised.

   The group applauded and the meeting began to break up.  Blackie and Gary held back as the others gathered their jackets and bid Abby good night at the front door. 

   “See you all in a couple of days,” she called as they walked to their cars.

   Abby shut the door and walked back into the living room where Blackie and Gary waited.  They often stayed to chat with Abby after the formal meetings. 

   “More coffee, guys,” she asked?

   “Got anything stronger,” Blackie asked?

   “Sure, brandy,” she answered, knowing Blackie liked brandy.

   “Brandy sound good to you too, Gary,” Blackie asked?

Gary nodded his assent as they followed Abby into the kitchen and took seats at the oak table.

   Abby poured brandy into their snifters and poured a cup of tea for herself.

   Blackie took a sip and rolled it around on his tongue, “Ahhh,” he said relaxing visibly.

   Sensing something, Abby said, “O.K., guys, Give me the rest of the bad news.”

   Gary took a deep breath, “If there was any way we could keep from telling you this, Abby, we would.”

   “Give, guys,” she braced herself and took a sip of tea. 

   Gary continued, “My sister and her husband live in Sacramento.  They were at the country club golf course Friday and they stopped at the club house for a drink after their game.”

   Blackie took her hand and continued the story.  “Look Abby, there were four guys sitting at the table next to them.  They’d been drinking for a while after 18 holes in the sun.  You know how guys get, buddy-buddy, good old boy stuff,” he paused, “They were all laughing about how they cut the Indians off at the pass on Harvest Hill.

   Blackie felt her hand clench into a fist.

   Gary picked up the story, “Anyway, my sister’s ears perked up at the mention of Indians and Harvest Hill. One of the guys was Ed Timmons, Jack Brannon’s right hand man; the other two were investors in several of Brannon’s projects.  Anyway it became pretty obvious from the conversation that the fourth man had provided them with some insider information that enabled them to get a jump on the Harvest Hill project.”

   Abby slumped back into the chair, “And the fourth man was Cliff,” she sighed.

   The three sat in silence staring at their drinks.

   Blackie leaned forward and gently took her face in his hands, “Don’t blame yourself, Abby, It could have happened to any one of us,” he soothed.

   “But it was me who brought the Trojan horse into camp. I’m the only outsider in the group,” she said with remorse.

   Blackie chucked her under the chin, “Hey, don’t go there, we need you.  Not only for the help you’ve been with the council but, more importantly, with the pride of heritage you’ve instilled in our kids in that classroom of yours.”

   There were tears in Abby’s eyes as she thanked Blackie and Gary, “Listen, I need to shed some silly, female tears,” and then her smile broke through the tears, “in lieu of punching that jerk out.”

   They both laughed and gave her big, bear hugs on the way out, and Gary said, “At least we won’t have to come and bail you out of the slammer for tears. Tears are so much more sensible then a knockdown, drag out.”

   Blackie said,” I’ll call you tomorrow as soon as I make those appointments.  I really need you with me, Abby.”

   “Call on my cell phone, Blackie, I’ll have to get back to you if I’m in a conference or counseling a student,” she said.

   “I will,” Blackie touched her cheek, “Are you going to be O.K.” he asked?

   “I’m just so mad, I could spit,” she said in anger.

   They both laughed.

   “Thanks guys, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” 

    Abby shut the door harder than necessary and turned back to the room with hands on hips. ”The bloody traitor.”  He knew all of that information was between us, but he had to be a big shot with his buddies.  Being a big shot was apparently more important than his feelings for me, more important than loyalty.

    Waif had come back into the room when all of the humans left. She stood in the middle of the room watching Abby, alarmed by her unusual behavior.    

    Abby plopped into a chair and called the cat up on to her lap.  As she stroked her nuzzling feline friend she began to calm down. 
   “Waif, for a cat from the docks, you exhibit excellent breeding. I apologized for the raised voice and unseemly display of temper.”

    She thought about calling Tess. It was 

Monday night and she probably wasn’t busy but she decided she’d start crying and wouldn’t be able to carry on a conversation.

    She got up tiredly and carried cups into the kitchen and tidied up the living room. The cobbler hadn’t even been touched so she put it in the refrigerator, rinsed off the cups and saucers and put them into the dishwasher. 

    First thing tomorrow I’ll call Cliff to see when he will be back in town, she thought to herself. She wanted it to be clear to Cliff that it was over between them.

    The next day she took the cobbler into the teacher’s lounge and received many happy thanks from the staff and faculty. She took the opportunity to tell them all about Aunt Bessie and her last Sunday of the month potlucks. Perhaps, she could entice some of them into visiting the church and the cove.

    Abby was in the teacher’s lounge gathering her pan and spatula when her phone began to vibrate.  She excused herself and slipped out between the buildings and to take the call. 

    Blackie told her with some humor that most of the board members were very hard to track down.  He had learned that the vote was six to four in favor of allowing development and that the six voting yes were out of town or couldn’t be reached.  Brannon had been busy all day but had agreed to meet with Blackie and Abby at ten the next morning. Blackie gave her directions to Brannon’s office and rang off. 

   Abby knew she could juggle her schedule and take the morning off. This meeting was too important to miss and she had the time coming and the term’s work completed.
 

   Abby dressed carefully the next day for the meeting with Jack Brannon.  She selected a dove grey suit with fitted, classic lines and darker grey accessories. The purse was small and the heels were high, consisting of nothing but delicate straps. She softened the whole effect with a simple white silk blouse with a froth of lace at her throat and wrists and finished the look with a locket and earrings that belonged to her mother.  She did her nails the night before and now she took special care with her makeup and hair.    
   If you looked at the parts you would see a business suit but when you took in the whole you saw a soft, slender, feminine woman who enjoyed that fact without surrendering an inch of competence or intelligence.

   As she got out of her car Abby heard a resounding wolf whistle from across the street.  She turned on her long legs and looked over her shoulder as she put her keys in the small purse.  Blackie was grinning from ear to ear as he climbed out of his sports car and sprinted across the street toward her.

   “Wow, Abby, you’re a real knock out in that outfit. Eat your heart out, Audrey Hepburn.”

   She twirled for him and tucked her hand into his arm, “Thanks Blackie. I needed that after Monday night,” she said.

  “Hmm, outfit needs gloves, ending at the wrist with little pearl buttons. I’ll buy some for you,” he grinned down at her.

   When they reached Brannon’s building he held the door open for her, “That fish and game guy was never good enough for you,” he said.

   He sounded serious, “Do you really believe that Blackie,” she asked?

   “You bet, little girl,” he said as he punched the elevator button.  “That man was not popular among the local Indians or any minority group as far as that goes.”

   She was about to say more but the elevator door opened and he took her arm and led her out into a long carpeted hallway.

   “Blackie, let’s say a prayer before we go in, we need God’s help.”

“You won’t get an argument from me,” he said, “I wouldn’t go into surgery without Him.”

   Blackie took her hands and said a brief prayer.  They had never talked about it but his belief added a whole new dimension to their relationship. She grinned at him with confidence.

   They were ushered into Brannon’s office promptly at ten. The man behind the desk was engrossed in some papers but looked up when his secretary announced them. When he saw Abby in the doorway he stood with more formal acknowledgement.

   Jack Brannon wasn’t at all what Abby had expected.  At five foot eleven and barrel-chested he exuded quiet power and authority.  His hand when he shook hers was scarred and calloused from hard work and the nose on his ruddy, Irish face had obviously been broken at least once. 
   This man looked more like a construction stiff than the company owner. His khaki’s and shirt, open at the throat with sleeves rolled up, didn’t detract from that impression.

   “Mrs…, ah, Ms. Cavanaugh,” he corrected himself, “Mr. Jordan please sit down.”

   Abby was trying to suppress a grin as she sat down. The three made quite a trio. She exemplified simple elegance; Blackie, tailored sophistication; and Jack Brannon, a rough and tumble Irish pug

   “Something funny, Ms. Cavanaugh,” Brannon asked?

   Her twitching lips wouldn’t obey her inner admonition, “Sorry, Mr. Brannon, I’m beginning to feel a bit overdressed.” 

   He looked at the two of them and then down at himself. A twinkle appeared in his eye and he threw back his head and laughed, “You sure have a firm grasp on the obvious, Ms. Cavanaugh.”

   When he stopped laughing he leaned back in his chair and looked at them across the expanse of his desk, “I understand that the two of you want to stop my development at harvest hill. Is that the specific issue we’re facing today,” he asked?

   Blackie leaned forward in his chair, “Mr. Brannon, that’s not really the issue but I have to state, strongly that our council does resent the underhanded way Brannon Construction went about getting board approval. In fact I have our council attorney checking the legality of that issue as we speak.”

   “I have my own attorney’s checking that very point also, Mr. Jordan.  For now, why don’t we leave that question to the attorneys and get to the crux of the matter.”

   Abby decided to speak up at that point, “Mr. Brannon, for hundreds of years Mr. Jordan’s tribe has held an annual harvest celebration on the top of that hill.  That is why it’s called “Harvest Hill.”  What we would like to do is erect some kind of monument on the hilltop to commemorate that fact.”

   “And the celebration dance,” Brannon asked?

   “Mr. Brannon, we hold our dances and celebrations at our own tribal center,” Blackie said sarcastically.

   Jack Brannon raised his hand, “Sorry Mr. Jordan, but I’m planning a retirement community for that tract of land, something the average retired couple can afford.  You’ll find if you look into it that elderly couples are looking for quiet and safety when seeking retirement homes.”

   Blackie started to rise from his seat in anger, mistaking Brannon’s inference, but Abby touched the back of his hand and he leaned back and crossed his legs.

   Brannon was tapping his pencil on the desk top, “Look, Jordan, the only reason I brought that up is because I’m planning a security gate for the community.”
   He paused, “But if what you say is true – well, it wouldn’t be right to fence it off. Kind of like fencing off the Blarney Stone, if you get my meaning,” he said to the two of them.

   Blackie relaxed and grinned, “I get your meaning Mr. Brannon, and I see your problem, our elderly have the same concerns.”  

   Brannon who had been facing Blackie swung his chair around to Abby, “I understand you’re the verifying authority, Ms. Cavanaugh. Do you have a written report I could go over tonight, I have meetings scheduled all day today.”

   “All prepared and properly documented, Mr. Brannon,” she handed him the report.

   “Figured you’d be prepared,” he said with a smile, his admiration obvious.

   Brannon got to his feet, “Look, I need some time to read the report and think this through.  Could we get together in a few days and go over our options,” he asked?

   Blackie hesitated, “I’d like to have a firm date set for our next meeting,” he said.

   “Fair enough,” Brannon said, “But this is a hell of a busy week. I’m afraid the meeting will have to be after business hours if that’s all right with you two?”

   “Abby, how about Friday,” Blackie asked?

   “Friday’s good for me,” Abby said.

   “Friday would give me time to study the report and work with my plans if need be,” Brannon said turning toward Blackie.

   Blackie nodded his agreement.

“In that case, why don’t we meet up on harvest hill, Friday at 4:30,” Brannon said, “I’d like to see the exact spot we’re talking about.”

   Abby took the time to inform Jack Brannon that Blackie was actually Dr. Blackie Jordan who practiced at Redwood Coast Hospital.

   “Well, then Dr. Jordan,” and he shook hands with Blackie once more, “if my memory serves me right you were a great receiver in college who never went pro. Always wondered what happened to you.”

   “Had a better offer, Brannon, one I couldn’t refuse.”

   “At that age I don’t think I could have passed up everything pro football had to offer,” Brannon said, “You must be very wise and disciplined.”

   Blackie lifted his hands, “A surgeon’s hands.  I couldn’t risk them,” he explained.

   “Weren’t you on a football scholarship in college,” Jack asked?

   “Yes,” said Blackie, “It was my only ticket to college.”

   “I didn’t come from money either, had to take another way around.  It’s a pleasure to meet the two of you.”

   “And you, Jack,” Blackie nodded.

As they walked out of the office building, Blackie asked, “Do you have time for lunch, Abby?”

   Abby looked at him and said, “If this is about Cliff I’m not seeing him anymore, Blackie.”  

   “I’m glad about that Abby, you deserve much better, but actually I think you look far too sexy to send home without lunch.”

   “Well, thank you doctor,” she semi-curtsied, “you look pretty sharp yourself.”

   Blackie took her hand and led her around the corner to a funky little deli called, City Park.  
   The café was decorated with hanging plants, ficus trees and half barrels full of bright flowers. A huge skylight enhanced the sylvan atmosphere and redwood picnic tables were scattered discretely around the room and on a back patio with potted plants and shrubbery giving a sense of privacy to the diners. It does look a bit like a park, she thought.

   There was a long line along the side where the hostess greeted Blackie by name and handed him a large wicker picnic basket.  They followed an open deli case attractively filled with picnic items.

   “Wow,” Abby said, “everything from cold chicken and potato salad to champagne and caviar.”

   Abby was delighted with the café and selected a fresh spinach salad for lunch, a fresh pear and Camembert for dessert, and a bottle of cold water.     
   Blackie selected pastrami on rye, a beer and paid for their lunch. He carried the basket to one of the tables and arranged their picnic on a real table cloth with real silver ware and crystal. 

   He took her hands and offered a blessing for the food.

   “What a great place, Blackie, how did you happen to find it,” she asked as she unrolled the chilled glass goblet from her cloth napkin?

   “I heard it by word of mouth among the doctors at the hospital.”

   “Please tell me about your football career,” she said, “Brannon seemed quite impressed.”

   “I played well enough in high school to be offered a scholarship to college and I jumped at the chance.  That scholarship was a blessing so I studied hard and applied for medical school while I was in college.”

   “You always wanted to be a doctor?” she asked.

   “As soon as I gave up on the idea of being a great Indian warrior,” he grinned at her.

   “And medical school,” she asked?

   “I won a great scholarship for native Americans.  I think they were impressed because I was willing to pass on a pro football career for medicine.  I wasn’t the greatest scholar in the world but I did have a touch for surgery so here I am, Dr Jordan.”

   “That’s quite a story of achievement,” she said.

   “I just put one foot in front of the other while God performed the miracles,” he said.

   She was learning more about his character today then she had over the last few years.  She was beginning to wonder if the playboy doctor image was more a product of gossip than a reality.

   He touched her hand, “I was worried about you after the meeting Monday night,” he said, “I almost called you when I got home but the hospital got me first.”

   “I’m fine, Blackie. I’m just furious at what Cliff did to us.  And my pride’s a little damaged,” she admitted.

   “Pride will mend as long as the heart’s not broken.”

   “No broken heart,” she said, “Actually, it never was an exclusive relationship, but people seemed to take it that way.”

   “Good, you deserve better, little flower,” he said gently.

   “Whoops, I forgot something in the car,” he said, “Will you be O.K. if I run and get it,” he asked?

   “Sure, go ahead,” she assured him.

He’s so thoughtful, and he always makes me feel so female without being condescending. I guess it’s because he’s so masculine, she thought.

   He hurried back in with a manila envelope and set it on the table.

   “What kind of memorial do you think we should put up if everything works out?” he asked.

   “Something natural,” she said, “something that fits in environment.”

   “Agreed.  Maybe a boulder sheared off and carved with dancing, Native Americans that are thanking God for the bountiful harvest.”

   “We need to incorporate the element of time passing too,” she said.

“Take a look at the photographs in the envelope,” he requested.

   “Did you take these,” she asked?

   “Oh, this artist is terrific,” she said, “So talented and his work look so authentic.  I’d like to see it in person.”

   “Good,” Blackie said, “What are you doing a week from Sunday?”

   “I’d really like to consider commissioning him for the memorial but I want someone else’s opinion and you know authentic artifacts and you’re very knowledgeable about art.”

   She thought about it, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to take a Sunday off.”

   “The artist has a show in Sacramento right now.  I thought we could go down early and spend as much time as we want at the show then have an early dinner,” Blackie said.

   Why not, she thought, its council business.

   “Great, it sounds like fun,” pleased, she clapped her hands together.

   Blackie told her more about the artist then checked his watch, “Darn, I’m due at the clinic in twenty minutes; someday I’m going to slow down.”

   He walked Abby to her camper then hopped into his car and roared off.
  

@ 2013 May karenmaceanruig