Static
By Lucy Marsh
Copyright 2014 Lucy Marsh
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Tucker kicked back in his chair, propping his large, heavy, black work boots on his scarred and scuffed desk. He read every line of the resume he held in his hand, scrutinizing every word. Shaking his head, he once again could find nothing that would disqualify the woman from the job.
She was perfect. Her training was the best and, he grudgingly admitted, better than his own. Flipping back to the first page, he stared at the name, Bay Lopez. ‘Who in the hell named a kid ‘Bay?’ Shaking his head, he tossed down the papers. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that hiring Bay Lopez would be the mistake of his life.
He was on a time crunch with the Commission Council breathing down his neck. If there was one thing in this world he hated most, it was politics. The Council wanted him to hire a female and here was the female they wanted. There was no way to deny she was the best candidate, but Tuck just couldn’t shake the weird feeling he had about her.
This was a small County in backwoods Arkansas. With a name like Bay Lopez, a person would picture someone dark and exotic. She wasn’t going to fit in here. This simply wasn’t a good idea but he could find no way out of it.
The bell over the outer door jingled its happy tune and he looked up. A soft, tiny, blond woman in a pretty, pink summer dress walked gracefully his way. Tuck felt the smile blooming through him, feeling like it started in his toes and went all the way up to bust out the top of his head. Damn, but she was pretty.
His feet hit the floor and he was halfway out of his chair when she greeted his grouchy dispatcher at the desk out front. Her musical voice and sparkling blue eyes had the old fart nearly blushing as he slumped further in his chair. Tuck saw the wave old Roy gave her, pointing out his office as he made it to his feet.
She turned her beautiful smile on him through the window of his office and started around the high dispatch desk. He met her at the door, taking her soft tiny hands in his, feeling, as always, like a big, clumsy oaf around her. Leaning down to brush a kiss against her silky cheek, he breathed deeply of the soft floral scent that always floated around her.
“Hey, what brings you in here so early?” he asked, his voice deep and rough with the mild surprise he always felt around her. She was so small and so delicate, it amazed him constantly that she actually chose him, wanted to be with him.
Her voice was soft but had an underlying strength that she used frequently on her students. “I know you’re busy. You have interviews today.” She gave his rough hands a small squeeze, “I just knew you were under some stress today and wanted to take a minute to remind you to relax and breathe and to assure you that you will make the best decision; you always do.” She released him and pulled a large clear plastic baggy from her purse. “And, I brought you peanut butter cookies.”
Tuck took the bag with a smile. Never in his life would he admit to her that he hated peanut butter cookies. “Clarice. You are wonderful. Thank you.”
“I know you’ve been worried about this. Hiring a woman for an officer is a huge change for this County. While I fully support women’s lib, I, myself, don’t know how I’ll feel about knowing the only law enforcement on the streets of our little County is a woman. But I know you’ll pick the very best one.”
Looking into her soft, sky blue eyes and hearing the conviction in her voice, Tuck knew she fully believed her words. Setting the bag of cookies aside, he ran his hands up her arms to cup her shoulders. Marveling again at how tiny she was and how much strength he knew was inside her, he felt the slow warmth spread through him. “I love you, Clarice Hogan.”
“I know, Tucker Adams. I love you too.” She rose on tip toes and gave him a quick kiss. “Come over for pot roast tonight?”
He groaned. “Pot roast? With those little potatoes? And the gravy?”
Her laughed tinkled through the office. “Would I dare to make it any other way?” Giving his arm a squeeze she turned to leave. While Tuck admired the small, trim body in the pretty, pink dress, she tossed him a saucy look and blew him a kiss. Pausing, she noted the look in his stone-gray eyes and smiled. Whispering she said, “Stop by, maybe you’ll get lucky.” With a wink, she glided gracefully back around the desk and out the door.
Slumping back down in his chair, he shifted the hardness now making his pants uncomfortable. With a soft laugh he thought about the small, sparkly ring he had tucked away in his sock drawer at home. He’d spent his entire life avoiding women like Clarice and now he was preparing to take a step he never dreamed to take.
Leaning back and once again propping up his feet on the desk, Tuck let his mind wander. Clarice was perfect. She kept her house sparkling clean, could cook the most amazing meals. Everyone liked and respected her; even far outside of Hill County she was considered a wonderful person.
If only he hadn’t spent his life avoiding this very situation. Tuck’s father had taught him the hard way that no woman ever was worth giving up your freedom for. With frequent beatings, the old man had drilled into him the laws of a real man. One that didn’t let himself get tied down by any woman ever.
Whispers of dark memories drifted at the edges of his mind. The woman who was his mother, harsh and demanding, never any soft kind words for her children. His father’s quick fists and raised voice. A cold, long, winter’s night and a child’s pained cries reminded Tuck that he’d vowed never to open a door he was unable to close. Long, long ago, Tuck promised himself he’d never, ever have a child and risk his father’s traits coming out in himself. It simply wasn’t worth it, nothing was worth the pain of losing something so precious.
Giving himself a shake, Tuck came back to the present. Thinking again of Clarice, over time, the small woman had shown just how wily she could actually be. Clarice had set her sights on having him and nothing was going to stop her. She’d taken it slow. Slow and steady and carefully, she assaulted him and his battered feelings until she broke him.
He knew that if he explained his feelings to Clarice, she’d accept them. She’d never demand a child from him. Being an elementary school teacher, she was around children all day for nine months out of every year. She considered them “hers” and had once admitted herself that she wasn’t sure she wanted one of her own. But Tuck knew better. It wouldn’t be long after he tied that knot around his neck that she’d get the itch for the crib in the corner and a baby seat in a minivan.
His thoughts once again turned dark as memories that reinforced his earlier decisions made him doubt the purchase of that little diamond. But trying to imagine giving Clarice up, imagining her with another man, making babies and buying minivans, caused such a clench in his gut, he physically hurt. With no answer in sight, he slammed his feet back onto the floor and got up to stomp to the coffee pot.
Grabbing the bag of cookies as he went by, he took them out and dropped them in front of Roy. The old man snorted a laugh while Tuck poured the bitter brew into his cup. “You ever gonna’ tell her you don’t like these?”
“Nope.” Tuck went back into his office to wait on the first interview.
That morning, he conducted two interviews with female police officers. One was an immediate “no.” The woman had her hair styled in a mohawk and dyed a bright orange. This was rural Arkansas. Never gonna’ happen. Her youth and minimal training made this decision easy.
The other was old enough for him to have different concerns about. While she moved okay, looked okay, and had decent credentials, Tuck im
mediately spotted the faint scars on her arms. The woman had been a cutter in the past and while everyone might deserve a chance, he worried about her mental stability and working alone in such a remote area. But he didn’t dismiss the possibility of her just yet.
He’d scheduled Bay Lopez for after lunch to give himself time to attempt to look at her objectively. With a deep sigh, he looked at her paperwork again. No matter how qualified she was, how in the hell could he hire an outsider and expect such a close community to accept her? And just what was this itch he got when thinking of her?
When the time came, Tuck was on the phone dealing with a minor matter when Lopez walked in. He heard the bell and looked up. Immediately, he felt the punch, like a hard fist straight to the gut. With sudden stammers, he ended the call and stared at Bay Lopez.
Long and lean but with curves in the right places, she stood in front of the dispatch desk, calm and cool. Ink black hair pulled back in a glossy pony tail, black eyes greeted Roy with a soft, inner humor. She wore black jeans that looked new and a