Page 29 of A Summer in Sonoma


  “I took a run over to one of our favorite restaurants in Sonoma—I think it was our first one. They put together a basket for me. It’s real nice. You think they’ll like it?”

  “Walt, is it full of hundred-dollar bottles of wine?” she asked, frowning.

  “No!” he protested. “There’s a couple of nice bottles in there, but I was after some good beef and salmon they can freeze.” Then he grinned. “If I pass the test, Billy can invite me back and grill it up.”

  “You’re such a suck-up,” she laughed. “Well, I just hope you like them. Except for Marty’s husband, Joe, they’ve all been my best friends since I was a kid.”

  “I like ’em already, honey. They gotta be real decent people to put up with you all these years.” And then he grinned at her.

  They entered with arms laden—Walt with his basket, Cassie with her dinner offerings. Joe and Marty were already there, helping to put out some snacks. There were quick introductions and Walt insisted Julie get into the basket. She pulled out a big tenderloin and large salmon filet along with four bottles of wine. “Oh, my God,” she said.

  Walt leaned toward her ear. “I thought it would freeze nice, for the next time you have company over. With any luck, me.”

  “This is just too much,” she said.

  “This is my debut. I might’ve gotten a little showy.”

  “Ya think?” she said. “Well, I like your style, but you can’t keep that up with this crowd. We gather, we eat and drink. You’ll go broke in no time.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” he said. “Where are the kids?” he asked, looking around.

  “They’re at my mom’s for an overnight, so I can concentrate on grilling you.”

  “Cassie said you were grilling steaks,” he said with a smile.

  “Steaks and you,” she said. “You’re off to a very nice start.”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

  The men urged Walt outside where Billy had put a Duraflame in a small patio fire pit. When they were out of earshot, Cassie said to Julie, “Tuck the wine away in a special place. He has a habit of buying really expensive stuff.”

  Julie picked up a bottle and studied it while Marty picked up another one, reading the label. “Shouldn’t I serve it?”

  “You can if you want to, or you can save it for a special occasion. He’s been bringing hundred-dollar bottles of wine to my house for months. I can’t break him of it.”

  “How can he do that?”

  “He hasn’t had a serious girlfriend since seventh grade,” she said with a shrug. “No one to spend his money on, I guess. It makes him happy. Makes me crazy. You know I have trouble with that kind of spending. I’d be so happy with a cheap little bottle.”

  “We’ll put it on the table,” Julie said.

  “Walt hardly drinks,” Cassie said. “Billy and Joe don’t know the difference. Don’t waste the good stuff.”

  But then the front door opened and Beth came in with a man in tow.

  “Hi,” she said. “I’d like you to meet Jerod Paterson. My doctor. And, I guess, my date.”

  All their mouths dropped open in surprise, making both Beth and Jerod laugh. After the hellos, Cassie whispered to Julie, “Okay, go ahead and pour some of the good stuff.”

  As was typical of one of these get-togethers, the women stayed in the kitchen fixing food and gossiping while the men stood around outside, each holding a beer. They were an odd lot—a couple of firefighters, a physician and a biker, spanning twenty years in age. But what they had in common were their women.

  Walt and Jerod particularly wanted to know what it was like growing up with them, something Billy knew only too well. Joe was able to chime in when it came to knowing all of them as adults; he’d been around them about six years and could speak to the bond that had never weakened for a moment. “They’re thicker than thieves,” he informed Walt and Jerod. “They know things about us we don’t know about each other. It’s scary sometimes.”

  But talking about women didn’t hold their interest very long; they moved on to Billy and Joe being asked about their jobs. After some firefighting and paramedic stories, they talked about Walt’s rides, including the one that lasted more than a year. That held them for a good long while, and finally it was Walt who asked Jerod about his work.

  “Very rewarding,” Jerod said. “Long hours and worth every second.”

  “Isn’t it a little on the depressing side?” Joe asked.

  “Not at all. It’s true, there are people I can’t help get well, but they’re greatly outnumbered by the ones I can. It’s good for the heart,” he said. “A little like firefighting—I concentrate on the ones we can save.”

  There was a drawn-out moment of silence before Billy asked, “How’s Beth doing? Really?”

  Jerod smiled. “As her doctor I’d have to say very well. As her friend I’d say she’s got what it takes. She’s going to beat this.” Then he took a drink from his beer. “I have absolutely no doubt. I’m counting on many years.”

  In the kitchen, Julie turned wide eyes to Beth and said, “You brought the doctor?”

  Beth laughed. “I did. He just won’t go away quietly. I’m getting a little attached to him. I might keep him.”

  “Is he very romantic?” Cassie asked.

  “He is,” she confirmed. “But understand—I’m not very romantic. This chemo is wearing me down. I slept for four hours today so I could make it through dinner. He knows it’s going to be a long time before I can even think about what to do with him. It’s nice, though, to have someone to talk to. I mean, a man to talk to. And not just any man, but one who understands everything that’s happening to me. And isn’t one bit scared of it.”

  “Wow. How are you with the whole body-image thing?”

  “Well, there won’t be any surprises. When I told him it would be a long time before I’d take my shirt off for him, he reminded me that I already had. He’s very safe for me. For a while I wondered if half my attraction to him was for that reason….”

  “Are you kidding me?” Marty said. “Look at him—he’s gorgeous!”

  “He is,” Beth said. “So why not? He’s smart, handsome, attentive, and if there’s one thing I’ve earned by now, it’s to feel safe.”

  It worked. Four odd couples, strung together by four women who’d been friends since they were girls, laughed and joked through lots of food and good wine, told tales about one another and seemed to connect on many levels. Jerod took Beth home right after the cheesecake, apologizing for not helping with the cleanup. Stamina was not her strong suit these days. Joe and Marty were pushed out the door not long after; they still had a child to pick up from Grandma’s house. While Cassie and Julie finished up in the kitchen, Billy and Walt stood in the driveway and talked. Walt reached into the inside pocket of his vest and pulled out a couple of cigars. “What d’ya think?” he asked.

  “Oh, my man,” Billy said. “You really know how to make a good presentation.”

  “This probably isn’t going to go over that well with the women,” Walt said. “But what the hell, huh? Men have to bond, too.” He pulled a lighter out of his pocket, snipped the ends of both cigars and handed one over. “Really, a rare thing for me. But special occasions call for stuff like this.”

  So they talked for a little while about nothing in particular. Billy said something about how nice it was to have Julie so comfortable and happy with the way things were going financially. “Far as I can tell, we have only two potential problems—both sitting right behind you.” Walt turned to look at their cars in the driveway. Billy continued. “I’m really good with wood, paint, minor electrical and plumbing problems, but I’ve always been challenged by engines. And I have to keep those cars running for four years. At least four years.”

  “Good cars,” Walt said. “So what’s the problem?”

  “Oh, just old age. Over a hundred thousand miles on ’em. They’re good and solid, but old. It’s hard enough keeping cars that old in tires an
d stuff. When something like brakes or transmission goes down, I’m pretty lost.”

  Walt grinned around his cigar. “But I’m not,” he said. “Bill, I’m a mechanic. That’s my number-one skill. You got a problem with the car, call me. I’m sure I can help.”

  “Jeez, I blew right by that. You’re a mechanic! I guess I thought you just do bikes.”

  “That’s definitely my specialty. But I love engine grease. I hate to brag, but I’m good. And I can get parts at cost.”

  “Damn, I just like you better all the time,” he said. “You know, I’ve been meaning to say thanks for what you did for Cassie….”

  “What I did for her?” Walt asked.

  “Yeah, that first time you met her. You got her out of something that could’ve been real bad. She came over here that night, told me and Julie all about it. She was shook up and it got to me, too. I mean, I think of her as a best friend, a sister. If you hadn’t been there…”

  “But I was there,” Walt said. “It might’ve been a silly coincidence, but I was there in plenty of time. She wasn’t hurt, just scared.”

  “Well, I told myself the first thing I was going to do when I met you was thank you for stepping in. And I want you to know, I looked all over Sacramento and the surrounding area for a Ken Baxter, and he definitely wasn’t a firefighter….”

  “Ken Baxter?” Walt asked.

  “That’s who Cassie said her date was with. A guy named Ken Baxter who claimed to be a paramedic with F.D. Only one turned up—a fifty-year-old captain out of northwest. Definitely not the guy.”

  Walt puffed, swallowed, tried to stop himself but then said, “It wasn’t Ken Baxter, Billy. I got the make, model and license plate of the car the guy was driving. I managed to find out who he is, and his name isn’t Ken Baxter. I never asked Cassie his name—I just got someone to run the plates. His name is Ralph Perkins and I know what firehouse he works out of.”

  Billy’s face had grown dark as Walt spoke. “I know that firehouse, too,” he finally said. “Ken Baxter is his captain. I know Perkins. Not well, but I’ve seen him around. I didn’t like him before you even told me this. You do anything with that information?”

  Walt looked down. “Kind of,” he said. “I drove by there a lot till I was sure he saw me. Then I stared him down for a while. I thought it wouldn’t hurt if he knew I knew. Anything more than that would be making trouble with the police. And, Bill, I haven’t talked to Cassie about it. She wants to forget it. She’s not scared of him anymore, she doesn’t have anything on him that would get him arrested and she’d like to move on. Think about that.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “Think about it,” Walt said. “You go talk to him or something, it could come back on Cassie. It could come back on her when I’m not around. We can’t have that.”

  The drive from Julie’s to Beth’s wasn’t far, but Beth was fading fast. Jerod put a hand on her thigh. “You’ve just about had it,” he said.

  “It’s so annoying,” she said. “Where the hell does this fatigue come from? I felt fine until an hour ago.”

  “Your body’s working hard,” he said. “Don’t fight it. You’ll be home soon and can go to sleep.” She started nodding off in the passenger seat and he said, “It’s okay, honey. Settle back. Close your eyes. I’ll wake you when you’re home.”

  He pulled her car into her garage and even the sound of the car door didn’t bring her immediately around. He pulled off her seat belt and carefully roused her, though she was very slow to wake. Finally he just pulled her gently out of the car, lifted her into his arms and carried her into the house. “I can walk,” she said, wriggling a little bit.

  “Be still,” he said. “You weigh nothing at all. Pretty soon we’ll get some meat on your bones, fatten you up.”

  She yawned. “I never liked being fat. Now it’s starting to sound good.”

  He took her to the bedroom and sat her on her bed. She flopped back and he chuckled at her. “I should have gotten you out of there sooner—you’re completely out of steam.” He knelt beside the bed and pulled off her shoes. “I’ll help you get into bed. You have a nightgown or something?”

  “Just never mind. I’m fine in my clothes.”

  “Don’t be silly—you’ll wake up uncomfortable. Where should I look?”

  She yawned deeply. “Closet. Hook.”

  It was simple to find, a long brushed flannel with sleeves. She probably got cold at night, he thought. So thin, alone in the bed. He brought it back to her and helped her get off her sweater and unfasten her bra. The little prosthetic inserts fell out and he scooped them up, keeping them with her clothes. These little babies were expensive. He pulled the gown over her head and she slipped her arms in. Then he put her arms around his neck so she could stand and he got off her pants, sitting her down to remove them the rest of the way. He pulled back the covers for her and she climbed right in, sighing so gratefully. He bent down and put a kiss on her forehead. “Sleep well,” he whispered.

  He was just about out her bedroom door when she called. “Jerod?”

  He went back to the bed. “You need something, honey?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Would you like to lie down beside me? I wouldn’t mind…”

  “I don’t want to bother you,” he said. “You need your sleep.”

  “I’ll sleep,” she said. “It would be okay….”

  He brushed her hair back from her face and a few strands came out in his hand. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “Let me take care of my nighttime rituals.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” she hummed.

  He watched her as she gave up, let herself fall into an immediate deep sleep. Then he went to her guest bath, brushed his teeth, put away his clothes and got some pajama bottoms out of his overnight bag. He went back to her room, pulled the covers aside and got in beside her. Putting a hand on her hip, he whispered, “It’s just me. I’m right here.” She turned toward him with a soft moan and snuggled against him. “Don’t wake up startled,” he said. “It’s just me.”

  “I know,” she said. “That’s nice, thank you.” She snuggled closer. “There’s nothing in it for you. Nothing.”

  He pulled her into his arms and cradled her against his chest. “Yes, there is,” he whispered. He kissed her brow. “More than you realize…”

  Marty got Jason into bed, then got into her nightgown and settled herself in bed—in the master bedroom that she shared with her husband. She could hear the soft talking of the TV in the family room, so she turned on the light and picked up her book. It wasn’t long before Joe turned off the TV and came to bed. She stared at the pages of her book, unable to read while he got down to his boxers and crawled in beside her. Her clothes hung in her closet again; her beauty essentials shared space in the master bath. But nothing else had happened between them yet. At first he had kissed her good-night and turned his back on her to sleep. Eventually he had kissed her and faced her, but he still didn’t touch her. Somewhere in the night he occasionally pulled her closer, as if out of habit, but they hadn’t resumed the life of husband and wife. There was still a brick between them—the heavy weight of their short estrangement.

  “Did you like him? Walt?” she asked when Joe was in bed.

  “Nice enough guy.”

  “How about the doctor?”

  “Sure,” he said. “How about that? Beth and her cancer doctor?”

  “I have a feeling that might’ve happened, anyway, even if she hadn’t met him under these circumstances. They seem to have a nice chemistry.”

  “I guess,” he said. He leaned toward her and gave her a friendly peck on the lips. As he would have pulled away, she put her hands on his cheeks and held him there. For a second he was just still, frozen, uncertain, and then he began to move over her lips, drinking her in. His hands found her waist and the book slipped off her lap and fell to the floor. Slowly, holding on to him, she sank lower in the bed against the pillows until he was over her. His breath star
ted to come harder, hotter, and he kissed her for a long time before breaking away. “Marty,” he said a little breathlessly. He looked into her eyes and his were shining. “What’s going on with you?”

  “I thought…maybe…you might be in the mood…”

  He touched her lips briefly. Softly. “Not until you’re sure where you’re going,” he said, his voice husky. “I’m not going back to that again. I can’t live that way every time you’re a little pissed off. This is our marriage I’m talking about here. This is the rest of my life as far as I’m concerned.”

  She sighed. “I feel like I almost made the biggest mistake of my life,” she said. “Joe, we stopped trying to understand each other and took each other for granted. Let’s keep working on us, huh? Not just me, not just you. Us.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.” She ran a hand along the short hair at his temple. “I love you. I do. I was real mad at you for a while. I’m sorry I didn’t know a way to handle that better.”

  “What about that guy?” he asked. “I know who he is, you know. I’d like the truth about that.”

  “The truth is, he’s the old boyfriend I broke up with years before I met you. The one I told you about before we even got engaged. And I’ve never been intimate with anyone but you since we met. I swear.”

  “Where’s he come in? There’s a little more to it, I think.”

  “Oh, there is,” she said with a sad laugh. “Remember that night I left the house, all pissed off about the mess, and went to Martinelli’s? You might not even remember—I spent half of the past two years pissed off about the mess.”

  “I remember.”

  “I drove around awhile, and when I finally ended up at Martinelli’s to order pizzas to bring home, I was having a glass of wine at the bar, licking my wounds, and I ran into him there. A pure accident. I must have looked like a bunny in the snare—all down in the dumps, pathetic and teary. The son of a bitch actually made a play for me. He said all the things a woman who’s upside down and miserable wants to hear—that he’d never gotten over me, we were always so good together, et cetera. I asked about his girlfriend—last I heard he was living with her. He said they’d broken up a year ago and if I ever wanted to get together for any reason, if I needed to talk…”