Quickies 
Short & Sweet Romance Stories by Pat Clay

Coming Home

 Although the Soda Shoppe wasn’t cold, Marilee shivered. She had no idea why Brett wanted to meet here. She hadn’t come to their old hangout in ages.

Sixteen years had passed since she last saw him. They’d dated through high school, gone to the senior prom together. Within a month, he’d left town never to return. Until today.

Long ago, her broken heart had mended somewhat with the realization that his leaving had been right for both of them. Marriage would have squelched his ambition. Traipsing the world would have left her longing for hearth and home. They’d had different dreams. He became a globe-hopping photojournalist. She became a teacher, wife, mother, and two years ago, a widower.

Would Brett be the same handsome, smiling boy she’d loved? How would she look to him? Her blonde hair had darkened, her chin line had softened, her wasp waist was long gone. She’d seem a hag after all the famous people he’d photographed.

No matter, he was only visiting.

Then, he was striding toward her and years melted away.

“Marilee!” He swung her off her feet in a big bear hug.

If he’d been totally transformed, she’d have known him. He smelled and felt the same as always. Except for lines around his eyes and a deep tan, he had the same vulnerable, boyish look.

He studied her at arms length. “Marilee, you look—”

She held her breath.

“Amazing. I knew you would. How I’ve missed you. You were my sounding board, my best friend, my love. No problem seemed so bad once I talked it over with you.”

If he’d missed her why hadn’t he written or called? Why hadn’t she?

“Thanks for meeting me.” Once again, he hugged her. Once again, she felt the familiarity, the comfort of being in his arms.

“On the way to our booth,  I  ordered the usual, strawberry soda for you, chocolate for me.” 

Had this been their booth? She must have gravitated to it subconsciously. They sat across from each other. She wanted to ask about his job, the places he’d been, the celebrities he met. Instead, she asked, “Why did you never marry?”

“Two reasons.” He cocked his head the way he used to when he’d done something wrong. “I’m sorry about your husband. Must have been rough”

“Yes, it was and thanks for the generous donation to the heart association.”  She wasn’t letting him off the hook. “What reasons?”

“I never found anyone I could live with for long. The people I photographed, my colleagues, were either cardboard cut-outs or manic in their pursuit of success.”

“And the other reason?” 

“Something I learned just before leaving here, I couldn’t deal with then. I can now.”

The waitress brought their sodas. Marilee hadn’t had anything this caloric in years. She slurped it greedily.

He ignored his. “I’m sterile.”

Wow. How to handle this revelation? “Was that why you left?”

“Partly. I wasn’t concerned about having children at eighteen, but I felt less of a man, and I couldn’t let a woman I loved be saddled with my problem.”

“There are lots of options available now and back then, too.”

“I know, it was more ego than anything.” He stirred his soda but didn’t drink. “I’m hoping you’ll take me around to some of our old haunts, Pill Hill, where we used to park. Maybe, the book store, library, high school, my old house—places like that. I nearly got lost coming from the airport, everything’s so developed with underpasses and overpasses. I hardly recognize the town.”

“Sure, I’ll be glad to, if you don’t mind stopping at my house to pick up my kids, Robert’s six, Jennifer’s, four. A neighbor’s watching them and I don’t want to hold her up too long.”

His face brightened. “I was hoping you’d let me meet them. My mother kept me informed of their births”

“They know all about you already and will probably bug you to take their pictures thinking they’ll be on a magazine cover.”

“I intend to take lots of pictures, in every season, as background shots for my book.”

“Book? Every season? How long are you staying?”

“Guess I have a lot to explain. First, I’m here to stay.”

“Stay? What does that mean? Your job takes you all over the world.”

“I’ll take some gigs that interest me here and there, but not many. I’m devoting the next several years to my books.” He laughed, probably at her confounded expression. “Books of photographs. ‘Happiness’ is first. Next comes ‘Sorrow,’ then ‘Fear’ then –but I’ll save boring you with my work for another day.”

“You could settle anywhere, why here? Your parents are in Florida, most of your pals have moved away.”

“This town feels like home. And it’s where you are.”

Chicken Dinner

Kaylin stood at the meat counter, mind on the lonely evening ahead. Embarrassed to ask, once 

again, for a lone chicken breast, she ordered two. Ben raised a brow and smiled as he filled her 

order.

A man passed with an askance glance at her uniform. Why was it male police officers seemed intriguing, but women police officers seemed intimidating? All her past relationships had been doomed from the start, leaving Kaylin nearing thirty without a life partner in sight.

The butcher handed her the wrapped chicken with a wink, but before she could retrieve her cart, a tall, lanky man in piped western-style shirt, jeans and cowboy boots approached the counter. A Florida cowhand? He looked lost as he surveyed the glass case.

Kaylin turned to leave when he cleared his throat. “Uh, ma’am could you help me with something? He lifted his Stetson to reveal a thick shock of sandy hair.

“Sure, what’s the problem?”  Kaylin sighed. Of course, the only reason this attractive man approached her, would be a police matter. 

“I promised my sister I’d bring steaks for the family barbeque this evening. She thinks because I herd cattle, I know about cuts of beef. I have no clue.” 

“How many people?”  This guy had the cutest brown puppy-dog eyes and he was speaking to her as a woman, not an officer of the law.

“Ten, but two are teenage boys who always seem to be eating. “

“Sirloin would be good, if you intend to slice it to serve on a platter.”

He removed and replaced his hat again. “I sort of wanted individual steaks. You know, one for each person?”

“In that case probably rib-eyes would be best, but you have to look at them for size and thickness, the right amount of marbling.” He looked blank. “Fat. You need some for flavor, but not too much.”

“Would you…?”

“Sure.” They had fun choosing each steak, debating some debasing others. He bought four extra—in case.

Kaylin was having such a good time, she forgot she had her own chicken to refrigerate.  She turned to leave.

He cleared his throat again. “I wonder if you could help me with something else?’

“Sure. What else do you need for the barbecue?” They moved away from the counter.

“A date.”

“Date? I don’t know you.” She hoped she hadn’t blushed.

“Rob Cameron.” He extended his hand.

Since she didn’t know what else to do, Kaylin took his hand. Big mistake. Electric shocks stunned her into silence.

“And your name is?” he prompted.

“Kaylin Thomas.” She answered in robot voice as he dropped his hand much too slowly.

“Let me explain. My sibs never tire of ragging on me about my bachelor ways, but I run a ranch and it’s almost a twenty-four seven deal.”

Cautious police woman, Kaylin, was about to refuse when he pulled a wallet from his back pocket and unfolded a sheaf of pictures. “These are my nephews and here’s my sister and her husband. This is my brother and his wife. She’s pregnant and hungry all the time, first baby.” He looked into Kaylin’s eyes. “Am I pushing too hard?”

“No, you’re just an enthusiastic person. I am, too.” She took out her own wallet. “I have two nieces about the same ages as your sister’s boys.”

He smiled at the snapshots. “My nephews would love to meet them.” They put away their pictures.

 “Kaylin, I’d really like you to join us tonight. Why don’t I give you the address and if you can, or want to, show up around six?   Please come and if nothing else have a great steak in thanks for helping me out. You’ll save me from being the butt of more jokes about never having a date.”

“I don’t know.” Two children ran up to hug Kaylin. “Officer Thomas, remember us?  You spoke to us at Freedom school about Danger Stranger?”

“Oh, yes. Good to see you again.”

“We never talk to strangers.” Their mother hustled them away with apologies.

Rob grinned. “I’m not a stranger, we picked out steaks together.”

Kaylin took in a breath and let it out slowly. She was a police officer. She had a gun. “I’ll be there.”

She rushed home, froze the chicken and changed into capris and tee shirt. This was one Saturday night she’d not spend alone.

Rob’s family made her feel a part of the clan. His sister let her assemble the salad. His brother was solicitous. The boys wanted to meet her nieces. At evening’s end, Rob walked her to her car. “Have a good time?”

“I did. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Can I see you again? This time without the crowd?”

“I’d like that.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I’ll cook dinner.” She had a great chicken recipe.

Temporary Inconvenience

She’d imagined him taking her hand, but not to say goodbye. She’d rehearsed looking up at him through her eye lashes and saying, ‘I’d love to go out with you, Ross.’ Instead, Amanda said, “So long, Mr. Jameson. I’ve enjoyed working here while Grace was on maternity leave.”

“We appreciated having a temp who kept us on schedule.”

Amanda turned, not able to delay leaving any longer. “Thanks for taking the time to see me off, Mr. Jameson.”

She dashed to the elevator before tears misted her eyes. How could she have been so wrong? Sparks had crackled the day she’d arrived at this job and met Ross Jameson. She’d had enough experiences to recognize mutual attraction. Each time she went into his office with computer print-outs, his face brightened and he sat straighter, met and held her gaze. He always seemed to find reasons to keep her there longer than necessary.

Each time they met, Amanda was staggered by his thick, dark hair falling over even darker eyes, and his magical smile. But what she admired most was the way he treated his employees with respect. He greeted everyone by name, praised good work orally and in writing. When Grace brought in her baby, Amanda melted inside as Ross held the swaddled infant with tenderness.  

They had lunch together nearly every noon for the month she’d worked at Jameson Tool and Dye. She was certain he arranged his schedule to be in the cafeteria when she was. They talked about everything from politics to music to caring for elderly parents, which they both did. Her mother’s depression was the reason she’d given up her position in the north to move to Florida.

Fortunately, with foresight, she’d saved and invested and could afford to work at a temp agency. If her mother were having a bad day or had a doctor’s appointment, Amanda could decline taking a job for awhile. Now, she saw the move was a godsend. She hadn’t  realized the stress level she’d been working under. Of course, Florida was no longer the south of powdered ladies shielding themselves from the sun with parasols, but her pace of life was definitely slower, less pressure-packed than it had been.

Ross Jameson had been the only man who’d interested her in the past year since her father died and she’d moved in with her mother. Now this gig was over, she’d never see him again.

She stifled her disappointment on the way to the elderly care activity center to pick up her mother as she did every weekday at five-thirty. Her mom was waiting in the lobby. Amanda was immediately alarmed.

“What’s wrong, why are you sitting out here alone?” Usually she had to pry her mother out of a shuffle-board or bridge game.

“A new woman came today and took the fourth at my table, so I gave her the evil eye and walked out here.”

“You’re pouting?” Relief flooded Amanda’s heart with love. Over the past year, she and her mother had reversed roles. “What was it you always said when I couldn’t get along with someone? ‘You catch more flies with honey than vinegar,’ right?”

Her mother laughed. “You would remember everything I ever said.”

After a busy weekend, Amanda considered staying home with her mother on Monday.

Mom wouldn’t hear of it. “I have to go to the center today.  I’m taking honey buns to welcome the new member.”  She winked at her daughter.

At five-thirty that afternoon, Amanda thumbed through Woman’s World while waiting in the lobby for her mother to finish her bridge game.

“Hello, Amanda. Mind if I sit here?”

“Mr. Jameson.” Her pulse rate jumped erratically. “What are you doing here? Your mother has an in-home daytime caretaker.”

“Not anymore. You extolled the virtues of this activity center so much, I mentioned it to Mom and she wanted to try it.” He paused. “Besides, I had an ulterior motive for choosing this particular place—seeing you again.”

“Me, Mr. Jameson?” He did want to see her again, she hadn’t been wrong.

“I’m no longer your boss, so will you call me, Ross? And, I have a confession to make. The first day we met, I wanted to ask for a date, but I didn’t feel I could while you worked for me.” He searched her face the way he used to in his office. “Will you have dinner with me Saturday night? Afterward there’s a jazz concert I think you’ll like. It’s the group we discussed.”

He took her hand. “Please? We have lots more to talk over, things we couldn’t cover at lunch.”

 “This is so unexpected.”  Amanda glanced down at their clasped hands and  up through her lashes. “ I’d love to go out with you , Ross.”