A Summer in Sonoma

  She slugged him in the arm.

  “They’re just regular, nice folks. I’ve told them about you and I can tell they think I made you up. They keep asking when they’re going to meet you.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “That I met this gorgeous emergency room nurse who I’ve been seeing at least once a week for months now…”

  “Seeing?”

  “Cassie, I know you’re trying to keep a leash on this thing between us, but we’re seeing each other whether you can admit it or not. The only thing up in the air is whether we keep seeing each other, and I guess you’re in the driver’s seat there. So, what do you say? It’s a nice restaurant—they’re nice people.”

  “I’ve gained ten pounds since I met you,” she said.

  “You’ve gained it in all the right places, too. I have a spot in mind for tonight, on our way home. It’s this little place in Paradise that looks like a shack and inside is a world-class Hungarian chef. He’ll probably sit at our table through half of dinner, helping himself to your wine. You’re going to love it.”

  She sighed. “Really, I don’t know what to do with you….”

  “Yes, you do,” he said, grinning. And then he went after her lips again and she thought, Oh, what the hell. He felt very good, tasted better. And it was positively remarkable to her that they’d been friends all through summer and were well into fall and he hadn’t pushed her to go further.

  “Why haven’t you tried anything?” she asked him between kisses.

  “Because you’re not ready. You telling me you’re ready?”

  “No,” she said.

  “That’s why. When you’re ready, I’m ready.” And he kissed her a while longer, occasionally sliding his lips to her neck, her ear, her cheek, her eyes.

  If he’s half as good at the rest of it as he is at kissing, it’s scary to even think about!

  Cassie walked Steve along the river for about an hour, deep in thought. When Steve was tired and Cassie no more insightful, she called Julie and asked if she could stop by. The family was back from some fun at the park and it was nap time. Julie told her to come right over.

  Cassie gave a couple of quick knocks on Julie’s door and let herself in. Steve bounded into the house and found Tess curled up on her rug by the back door. Jeffy was on the couch; his feet were on the floor but his body was slumped into a lying-down position and he still wore his soccer shorts and shirt. They must have kicked the ball around for a while at the park. Julie was in the kitchen, puttering. “What’s going on?” Cassie said by way of greeting.

  “It’s quiet time for the little ones and Jeff crashed. Billy wore him down.”

  Cassie tilted her head and listened. There was the sound of children laughing and what could be toys or balls flying around the room, furniture moving, an occasional squeal or giggle. “Quiet time? Is that what you call it?”

  “Well, we couldn’t call it nap time anymore. They’re bouncing off the walls in there. I’ve thought about yelling, but what the heck—if they keep it in there and out of my hair for an hour, that’s all I need.”

  “What are you doing?”

  Julie put one hand on some apples, the other on a bowl that appeared to have flour and other ingredients in it and said, “I’m going to make Billy an apple pie. I hope I remember how—I haven’t done this in a long time.”

  “Special occasion?”

  “Yeah, I’m cooking a real dinner. Want to join us?”

  “Thanks, but I have plans. I guess the new budget is working out?”

  “It’s like a miracle,” she said. “I’ve been shopping cheap for so long, I don’t even have to think to keep it in the range. In a couple of weeks I saved enough for Jeffy’s birthday party next month. Now I’m working on Christmas. And that isn’t including this brand-new thing we have—a savings account. An actual savings account.” She sighed deeply. “It’s very small, but wonderful. Wouldn’t you love to get something better than a red candle from your best friend for Christmas?”

  “I don’t want anything better than that,” she said. “Get on your feet, all the way on your feet, and we’ll go to Paris or something.”

  “How about we drive to the Bay Area for lunch,” Julie said. “Or maybe Placerville. And we better take your car.” She picked up an apple and started carving away the skin. “So, what are you doing tonight?”

  “Well, I’m going out to dinner with Walt. And his parents.”

  “Really?” Julie asked. “Sounds like this is getting interesting.”

  Through the family room window, Cassie saw the ladder lean up against the house and Billy climb up. Chores, she thought. Weekend maintenance—something he rarely had time for before he cut back his part-time schedule a little bit. “It surpasses interesting. I’ve never been up against anything like this before. I’m very confused.”

  “Why?”

  “Okay, here’s the deal. I found him to be a very nice guy. Easy to talk to. Interesting—he has lots of fun stories about growing up in his dad’s fixer-upper houses with three brothers, about his eighteen-month cross-country on a motorcycle with just a bedroll and small duffel. And not only that, he always asks about what’s going on with me and he remembers absolutely everything I tell him so he can say, ‘How are things going with your friend Julie and the three kids?’ Or, ‘How’d Beth’s last chemo go?’ He’s just plain thoughtful.”

  “This a problem for you?” Julie asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Yeah, it’s a problem. What does it mean when you like someone so much, you can’t imagine ever having a week or a month you wouldn’t get together for dinner or go for one of those bike rides? But at the same time you can’t imagine being with him for life?”

  “You like that riding, huh?”

  “I’m amazed to say, I really do. It’s great. I’ve seen more of this area in the past few months than I’ve seen in twenty years. I did it as an experiment, you know. I never expected to take to it.”

  “You’ve got a guy,” Julie said with a grin. “Sounds like you’ve got yourself a good one this time.”

  “I don’t want him to be my guy,” Cassie said. “I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never met a guy I didn’t get all excited about, filled with silly expectations and lots of ridiculous hopes and dreams. This is so completely different. I’d like to keep him as just a casual friend, but… Julie, I’ve been seeing him since last June. And all he’s done is kiss me.”

  “Really? In four months?”

  “Uh-huh. I wasn’t even sure that was a good idea, but I couldn’t resist. I mean, I’m still a girl, right? Everyone can use a little romance here and there. Kissing. Cuddling.”

  “Good kisser and cuddler, is he?”

  “Whoa,” Cassie said. “I’ve considered myself completely in love within twenty-four hours of knowing someone and crushed when it doesn’t work out. I’d call a guy ten times before I got the message he wasn’t going to call back. I’ve bought guys little gifts, made out on the second date and jumped into bed on the fourth…. This one—I keep trying not to get too close to him, but it’s getting bigger than both of us. I don’t know what to do.” She sighed. “He’s just about as good at kissing as talking. And he’s very good at talking.”

  “He hasn’t even slipped a hand under your—”

  “He said he can tell I’m just not ready, and when I’m ready, so is he,” Cassie said. “But really, I just don’t think I can go any further with this.”

  “You don’t find him attractive?” Julie asked.

  “Not really, no. Well, I mean, he’s not one of your classic pretty boys, like Billy. I’ve described him to you—he’s different looking. But he’s kind of growing on me. I notice things about him. Like his eyes—he has the most amazing blue eyes. And he thinks everything is funny. He laughs all the time and he has a great big laugh and a really nice smile. I guess if you look at him real closely, imagine him without the hairy face and tattoo, he’s probably handsome.” She sh
ook her head. “I have to end this before it goes any further….”

  “Okay, you’re having a mental breakdown or something. Right? He’s great, you’re crazy about him, he sounds extremely decent, so you better get rid of him…. Are you on drugs?”

  “Okay, here’s my dilemma—help me out here… This is a guy I want in my life, but I’m not sure I want him in my future. Does that make any sense?”

  Julie rested the apple and knife on the counter and looked hard into her best friend’s eyes. At long last, she said, “No.”

  “He doesn’t have much of a job. He works in a bike shop. He looks like a Hells Angels reject most of the time. He can clean up pretty good, but that beard, ponytail and naked lady aren’t going anywhere. He likes that biker look. But I want a normal life! I want a normal future—not a flashy one, but a solid one. I want a family, and it’s real hard for me to picture Walt standing outside the nursery window at the hospital, gazing dreamily at the newborns. I can’t see him at one of our get-togethers. I bet the guys wouldn’t like him so much—he’s very sweet, but he looks like a thug.” She sighed. “When I think about what the family Christmas picture would look like, I kind of shudder.”

  Julie just stared at her, her mouth slightly open. “Cassie Rasmussen, I’ve never heard you talk like this before in your life. You don’t think he looks right? He’s perfect in every way, but he doesn’t look like your typical guy?”

  “That’s part of it. He’s just not the kind of guy I thought I’d end up with…”

  “Is that a little like a guy not getting to know a woman with a fat butt?” Julie asked.

  “He thinks I look great. He’s probably just lying, but…”

  “Did that Dr. George Whatshisname look like what you’d end up with? That skinny, snotty, little nerdy guy with the great big glasses and bald head?”

  “Sorta,” she said. “He fit a picture of where I thought I was headed. He did belong to a country club….”

  “He was an ass!” Julie said. “Talk about someone the guys couldn’t relate to! He was a braggart and he was rude and treated you like it was your lucky goddamn day he asked you out. I hated him.”

  “Yeah, he didn’t turn out so good,” Cassie admitted. “At least I didn’t sleep with him. Also, if I’m going to let myself get into a relationship, I want it to be with someone who can share the financial load with me, so if there’s a family, there’s a future. Besides,” she said, sitting back, “I’m not sure that’s what I’m feeling. I like him, I really like him, but I don’t feel madly in love.”

  “You can’t imagine a week without him in it, but you’re not in love? You’re very confused.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I don’t?”

  “You don’t. I think you’ve been infatuated a million times and haven’t had a good, solid, dependable man to love even once. I think you wouldn’t know one if he bit you in the ass. And I have a feeling one just did.”

  “Well, didn’t you know you were madly in love with Billy?”

  “When I was fifteen? Oh, hell, I was madly in love with love, but a few years later I realized I was just in lust and true love came after that. I can depend on him to always be there for me, to be a partner, a friend, a team player. He makes me laugh, holds me when I cry, is as committed to the kids and our life together as I am. He’s a good person—and I don’t just love him, I like him and respect him.”

  I like Walt very much, Cassie thought. I respect him. I could love him if I’d let myself. “Well, I don’t know what to do,” Cassie said.

  “Cassie, you’ve been bringing around guys for ten years and sooner or later they treat you bad or disappear. You think that’s more acceptable than one who treats you like a queen but has a ponytail? Jesus. I think you’re all hung up on his image, and you ought to just get over it. What would you be doing right now if he shaved, got a haircut and had a stethoscope hanging around his neck?”

  Cassie’s eyes got a little round. Walt would sure look sexy with a haircut, wearing a white coat… “I can’t really be that shallow, can I?”

  “Sounds like it,” Julie said.

  “Oh, man, this is very embarrassing…”

  There was a shout from the backyard. Both women looked at the window to see the ladder moving away from the window, then there was a loud crash as it hit the ground. “Oh, God!” Julie said, dropping the apple and knife. “Not again!”

  Julie beat Cassie to the door and ran to Billy, who lay on the ground. She knelt beside him while Cassie shouted, “Don’t…!” But Julie lifted his head immediately, and by that time Cassie was kneeling on his opposite side.

  “I thought I told you, never lift a person’s head like that,” Billy said. “Hi, Cass.”

  “Did you fall off the ladder again?”

  “Not exactly. I kind of threw it to the ground and laid down, just to see if you had listened to me. I could’ve had a spinal cord injury, you know.”

  Julie dropped his head. “Asshole.”

  He grabbed her and pulled her down on him, then rolled with her until she was underneath. Then he tickled her. And then kissed her.

  “I’m going home,” Cassie said. “I don’t know what’s worse—you two fighting or being all gushy kiss-kiss. Why can’t you just be normal people sometimes?”

  “What’s got her so cranky?” he asked.

  “She’s trying not to fall in love,” Julie said.

  As Cassie got ready for Walt to pick her up for dinner, she realized she’d never even asked where they were going. Walt had a lot of favorite dives, from truck stops to diners, but every now and then he’d walk her into an elegant restaurant, like the one they’d visited at the vineyards on their first ride. They’d entered that one in their dusty jeans and windblown hair, so asking Walt what she should wear probably wouldn’t be of much help. Walt was beyond unpredictable.

  And then she realized no guy had ever wanted her to meet his parents. Not once. And even though she wasn’t sure she wanted this to last, she was suddenly very eager that they think she was well put together. They’re just regular, nice folks, Walt had said. His dad was a grocer, his mom a teacher. She chose a pale green pantsuit and wore her hair straight down her back, the way Walt loved it. She forgot about the fact that this potential relationship didn’t seem to have the kind of appearance or security she was after; as she put on her makeup, she hoped Walt thought she looked pretty tonight.

  When Walt arrived for her at six, he looked just fantastic in tailored pants and a blue silk shirt that brought out the deep color of his eyes; she couldn’t find a thing wrong with his looks. He must only own boots, but these were low heeled, black leather, expensive looking. His thick hair was pulled back in the usual ponytail and his sideburns and moustache were neatly trimmed. “I think you’ve had a little emergency fluff and buff for your mother,” she said, running her finger across his moustache. “You look very handsome,” she said. “How do your parents feel about the ponytail?”

  “I think they’ve gotten used to it. My mother wants this arm amputated, though,” he said, sticking out the naked lady. “Her first words were, ‘Very classy, Walt.’”

  He said they were going to a small French restaurant on the river, and once again, Walt was greeted as though a frequent guest. There were fewer than a dozen tables in the place, plenty of wait staff and a dimly lit ambience that bespoke exclusivity. There was good art on the walls, crisp linens on the tables, fine china, candles. When they walked in, a handsome couple of about sixty stood from a corner table and Walt urged Cassie forward.

  To say they were not what Cassie expected was an understatement. Walt introduced them as Dick and Judy. Dick was just shy of six feet, bald and striking with expressive brows and handsome smile. Judy was ravishing. A knockout. Tall and perfectly proportioned, not too thin, svelte and healthy with a dazzling smile. She stood at least five-ten in short heels, had honey-blonde hair in a rich,
smooth pageboy cut that reached her shoulders, perfectly manicured nails, exquisite makeup and there was no mistaking a chocolate-brown Chanel suit with a peach-colored silk blouse under the jacket. Not to mention a diamond ring that should prevent her from lifting her hand to shake Cassie’s. And that’s where Walt had gotten those wonderful blue eyes, from his mother. The moment they took their seats, Judy said, “Walt tells us you’re an emergency room nurse. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

  “Ah, Mom, you might not want to hear about Cassie’s work at dinner. She has stories about guts falling out, bones sticking through the skin, brains on the floor, that kind of thing.”

  Judy’s eyes glittered. She said, “Fascinating! How long have you been doing this?”

  Cassie went into kind of a trance. Dick and Judy kept her talking about herself and she found it impossible to get an explanation for why they were so sophisticated, so richly dressed, without asking crude questions. They were brought menus without prices. Walt asked her if she would mind if he selected the wine and Judy complimented her lavishly. Could Walt’s mother be sixty? Because she didn’t look it. But if she had a college degree and her oldest son was thirty-four, she was probably that or close. Yet she looked so young and fresh. Stately and mature. Flawless.

  Finally, as they were finishing their entrees, Cassie said, “So, Mrs. Arneson, do you ever ride on the back of Walt’s bike?”

  She laughed. “Not on your life. I can be coerced onto Dick’s from time to time, but I don’t like those long rides. Really, Cassie, I fought this motorcycle business almost to my last breath, but all four boys have the bug. Walt’s the worst, of course. And Dick doesn’t have time to putter around or take long cross-country rides. I have my own bike,” she said. “Pink. I don’t ride it often.”

  As Judy talked, out of the edge of her ear Cassie heard Dick ask Walt, “You go into the store today, son?”

  “Just for a few hours. Everything’s in order.”