The Best Of Us

“Will you take time off then?” he asked.

“Maybe an extra day or two but Helen likes to stay busy. And she needs her writing time, which doesn’t include me. Usually about this time of year she makes all her plans for the trips she’ll take in the year to come. She goes to conferences, library events, visits friends all over the place. And she usually rents a house or condo in a warm place for winter.”

Rob delivered their plates. “Sully, just like you like it,” he said. “That burger should moo for you. And for you, Doctor, your boring turkey club.”

“I’m saving my heavy eating for a little later in the day so I don’t fall asleep while I’m icing an ankle or putting in stitches.”

“And we all appreciate that,” Rob said. “I’ll refill your drinks in a minute.”

“Are you on your own today?” Sully asked.

“Sid will be here soon but I’d insist on taking care of my two favorite customers even if she was here.” And then he was gone.

Sully took a big bite of his burger and savored it. His eyes were closed. He was in heaven.

Leigh took a more delicate bite, and she smiled at him.

“Your aunt Helen lives like she’s independently wealthy or something,” he said.

“I believe her writing keeps her comfortable,” Leigh said. “I’m sorry, I keep forgetting to get you a book! She’s become an expert at visiting friends.”

“Hmph. I’d be just as happy to never have to go farther than town,” Sully said.

“She might be spending winters in Florida from now on, for all I know.”

“She’d rather have hurricanes?” Sully asked.

Leigh laughed. “Good point. Do you like winter?”

“Winter here isn’t so bad,” he said. “So much skiing, skating, snowshoe hiking... Course, I’m very busy just keeping the road plowed and trying not to slip on the damn ice.”

“I enjoyed this winter,” she said. “It wasn’t nearly as challenging as winter in Chicago. Of course, I don’t have to contend with a freeway to get to work. Winter here seemed mild. Gentle.” And just the scenery, she remembered, was more like a snow globe than the harsh, blowing, difficult Midwestern city winter.

“Your aunt hike?” he asked.

“She likes long walks,” Leigh said. “She reads a lot. She writes three books a year. We talk about books all the time. She’ll call me and say, ‘What are you reading?’ And I’d better be reading something. But she’s so cool. I can’t wait to introduce you—I know you’ll like her.”

“I don’t know, I don’t read much,” he said, biting into that big burger again.

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” she said. “You’re not her niece.”

Finn and Maia were experts at texting. It wasn’t interesting stuff, just silly stuff, just keeping close tabs on each other. They weren’t allowed to use their phones in school; if a teacher saw a phone, it was confiscated. But there was time before school, during breaks, after school, while at work. They didn’t start eating lunch together right at the beginning of senior year—Maia had her posse of girls and Finn had his guys. But it wasn’t long before they merged those friends so they could be together. Finn liked to put a hand on her knee under the table; she liked to give him a brief kiss on the cheek before heading to the next class.

They saw each other whenever they could. They walked to classes together, they went out on weekends, and Maia liked to watch him practice with the baseball team. They did homework together now and then, sometimes at one of their houses, sometimes on the phone. Maia’s parents were ready to adopt Finn, and Rob and Sean were big Maia fans.

Then at night, they had those quiet serious talks that seemed to mark love in bloom. And there were long stretches of time when, phones pressed to their ears, they just listened to each other breathe.

Maia was not Finn’s first kiss but there hadn’t been that many girls before her. And he had fallen into those awesome, hot, steamy makeout sessions with Maia easily. And while love was in bloom, so was Colorado. Things were sprouting everywhere, from the ground to the treetops. April came with a blush on the land.

“It’s obvious you’re down for the count,” Rob said to his son. “I like Maia, she seems like a real nice girl...”

“She’s awesome. Brilliant and fun and cool,” Finn said.

“So, is there anything we should talk about?” Rob asked. “Like ground rules? Boundaries? Safety? Responsibility?”

“Haven’t we had this talk about fifty times?” Finn asked. “Maybe you should talk to Sean.”

“Does Sean have a girlfriend?” Rob asked, eyebrows raised with surprise.

“Probably,” Finn said. “He moves a little fast in that area. Faster than me.”

Finn had never dated seriously before Maia. His focus had really been on school, work and sports, not necessarily in that order. He had to do well in school—it was a means to an end. If he was going to live well and have good man-toys, he’d have to find a way to earn a good living. And he did not want to own a bar or restaurant.

Then he noticed Maia and, holy shit, by Thanksgiving of his senior year he had fallen hard. He loved everything about her—her skin, her hair, her voice, her scent, her shape, her brain, her personality. She was the only girl he’d ever known who had it all. Really, all. He just couldn’t believe she wanted to be with him.

He didn’t know if this was what love felt like but he couldn’t imagine it got any better.

He’d gotten his stitches out; the bandage was off but his hand still hurt sometimes, like when he caught a fly ball. He wasn’t playing that well. He was hitting okay, catching worse. It frustrated him but graduation was nigh and he knew he wasn’t scholarship material based on athletics. He was getting a little scholarship help at UC for academics. But he liked baseball and wanted to play. “You’re going to have to give it time,” Dr. Culver said. “It might be slightly sore when stressed for a few months.”

“So much for baseball,” he grumbled.

“If you still have trouble in midsummer, we’ll contact a specialist. Since you only have moderate pain when you pressure the injury site, I don’t suspect any deeper problem. Why don’t you cushion the site with a bandage while you play ball, see if that helps.”

“I’ll try that,” he said.

But when he had Maia in his arms, his hand never bothered him. It felt particularly good when he had it full of the warm, sweet flesh of her breast. They did a lot of kissing, touching, bumping and grinding, then one night they unbuttoned each other’s jeans. He reached for hers, she reached for his and he thought he might die. All he wanted in life was that they put their hands down each other’s pants. They were parked at a turnout on a mountain road, steaming up the windows just as they steamed up each other.

“Okay, whoa now,” Maia said. “Let’s slow this down before we lose control.”

“Okay,” he said obediently. He put his arm around her shoulders, pulled her close and said, “Should we go to prom?”

She laughed softly. “I wondered about that. I wondered if you were ever going to ask me.”

“I’m just an average guy, Maia. I was putting it off, afraid you’d say no. I mean, you could go with anyone.”

“You’re so funny. Who else would I go with? Who else would ask me as long as we’re going together? Of course I’ll go with you! Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’re so wonderful.” He kissed her temple.

“I’m not quite ready for sex,” she said.

“That’s okay,” he said.

“Going to prom with you might not make me any more ready. Promise me you won’t expect sex if you take me to prom.”

“I promise. Sex. That’s your call.”

“But I bet you have a condom.”

A short laugh escaped him. “I will always have a condom. Know why? Because we’re not going to get in over our heads. We’re going to be safe and we’re going to be sure.”

“Well, I have something to tell you. I haven’t had sex with anyone. I’m not sure I even know what to do. But I know I’m not quite ready.”

He stroked her soft hair. “Maia, I haven’t, either. But I bet if we do eventually do it, it’ll be all right. No hurry. Your call, like I said.”

“But you’re ready?”

He was quiet for a moment. He sighed. He was such a hustler—not. It had only taken about six months to get to this conversation. “There’s no way I can say the right thing here.”

She giggled. “I know you want to. I want to, too. But you know what? I’d like to be sure we’re going to be together for a while. I want to be sure we both feel like we’re with the one we love. But don’t say you love me—it won’t get you sex.”

He laughed. Then he kissed her cheek. “Okay, I get it. I do think I love you, though.”

“Seriously?”

“What do I know? I’ve never been serious with a girl like this. I love every second with you. Everything about us together is good. When we’re making out or doing homework. Okay, that’s a lie. Making out is better than homework. There is one thing...”

“Yeah?”

“When you start to seriously consider sex, with me or with anyone, you need protection. Like the pill or something. And I think if it’s ever with anyone but me I might have to kill him, but don’t let that bother you. I’ll do it fast and as painlessly as possible and we don’t have to ever talk about it.”

She laughed. “You’d never kill a fly.”

“Hah! I’ve killed hundreds of flies!”

“I’m already on the pill,” she said quietly. She shrugged and didn’t look at him. “Terrible cramps. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready for sex with you. But I do feel like I love you, too. For all the same reasons.”

Finn really thought he might explode on the spot, but not only had his father lectured endlessly on this topic, his aunt Sid had talked with him at length about how to respect women. There was a lot of talk about consent. “Whew,” he said. “Okay, you just keep me posted. You should definitely be sure.”

After that conversation, spring seemed to literally blast its way onto the land—flowers, bunnies, elk calves and all.

Leigh moved everything off her desk, then put everything back and moved everything off her credenza. She checked her pockets and dumped the contents of her purse on her desk. She looked under her desk and in each drawer. Then she went to the front of the clinic where Eleanor and Gretchen worked. “Has anyone seen my cell phone?”

“Did you call it, listen for the ring?” Gretchen asked.

“It’s turned off. I swear I just had it.”

“You checked desk drawers, purse?”

“Yes. And I emptied my purse completely to be sure.”

“Could you have left it in your car?” Eleanor asked.

“No. I sat at my desk and talked to my aunt Helen this morning.”

“Trash?”

“I’ll look,” Leigh said, heading back to her office.

“I took out the trash,” Gretchen said.

Leigh and Eleanor both looked at her. She had a reputation for not doing the dirty work until asked. At close of business either Eleanor or Leigh usually handled the trash.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Gretchen said. “Not the medical waste. Just the paper and kitchen waste.”

Leigh sighed. “I’ll go get it.”

“Let me do that, Dr. Culver,” Eleanor said.

“No, it’s my phone. I wonder if I could’ve knocked it in the trash while I was cleaning off my desk this morning. I’ll be right back.” She took the stethoscope from around her neck and put it on the counter. Then she went out back to the Dumpster.

She could see the white trash bag that came from the clinic but she couldn’t quite reach it. If the Dumpster had been almost full, the bag would’ve been within reach, but it was about a foot too far down. She spotted an old wooden chair and grabbed it, pulling it out. It was a little wobbly but still functional. She pushed the chair up against the Dumpster to steady it, then stood on it and leaned over the edge, reaching in. Her fingertips grazed the trash bag. All she had to do was get a grip on it and pull—

She teetered on the edge of the Dumpster as she reached and her toe accidentally pushed away the chair. In a frightful moment, she fell. Headfirst.

She froze, sprawled atop the bags of trash. Her first order of concern was whether she had landed on anything sharp. She didn’t feel any pain. Her next concern—had she landed on anything really icky? She heard the sound of footsteps—someone was running toward the Dumpster. Her third concern arose—how long was she going to look like a complete idiot?

“Oh Jesus,” Rob Shandon said, peering into the Dumpster. “What the hell happened?”

“Kind of a long story,” she said, still lying across several bags of trash. “Short version, I seem to have lost my phone.”

He grinned at her. “You want to get out of there?”

“Not without my trash,” she said. She moved around and found the one she was after. She tossed it out of the Dumpster. Rob ducked as it flew past. “All right. Can you give me a hand?”

“Yes, Doctor,” he said, reaching for her. He checked the edge of the Dumpster, making sure it wasn’t sharp. “Can you stand up? I’m going to lift you out.”

“The chair isn’t a good idea,” she advised.

“Yeah, I saw that. Just let me get my hands under your arms. Don’t try to help me—I’m going to pull you right over the edge. It’s kind of dirty but no sharp edges. Here, hold my hands until you get upright.”

She had to stand on a pile of trash to get high enough for him to get a grip on her. “Ew,” she said, lifting a foot to which a limp and slimy lettuce leaf clung.

He laughed. “If that’s the worst you get, you’re in good shape. Ready? Here we go.” He pulled her right over the edge and into his arms. And he just held her there. He didn’t even attempt to put her down.

“How did you know I was in there?” she finally asked.

“I was driving by and I saw your legs go over the edge. I knew it was someone from the clinic because of the scrubs but I didn’t know which one of you. I hit the jackpot.”

“You can go ahead and put me down now.”

“I’d rather not,” he said. “Brings something to mind I’ve been thinking about for weeks. We should go out.”

“Out?” she asked.

“On a date.”

“Where does one go out in Timberlake? There’s no movie theater and you have the best restaurant in town.”

“Thank you,” he said, beaming. “I like to visit lots of different restaurants that are nothing like mine. I started my career working in a five-star restaurant.”

“And you want a date with me? Why?”

“Well, let’s see,” he said, rolling his eyes upward. “You can get out stains, you’re good with a needle, various things... Maybe we should get to know each other better. Isn’t that why people date?”

“I shouldn’t have rubbed your head,” she said. “I do that with patients who have a lot of fear or anxiety or look like they might puke. It relaxes them.”

“I’m not the only one?” he said. “Damn. I thought I was the only one.”

“You want to be the only one?”

He nodded and smiled slyly. “How about Sunday night? The pub is kind of frisky on Friday and Saturday night and I like to stay close. There’s this great gourmet restaurant in Aurora—only nine tables. The chef is a friend.”

“You can put me down,” she said. “I have to go through the trash.”

“This feels kind of nice,” he said. “Okay.” He let her legs drop down but, with an arm around her waist, continued to keep her close. “You said yes to Sunday night, right?”

“I didn’t yet. I haven’t had a date in a while.”

“Me, either,” he said. “Maybe we’ll get through it okay. I’m very polite. And helpful.”

“You did drag me out of a Dumpster, so I guess I owe you.”

“Dr. Culver,” Eleanor called, coming toward them, holding Leigh’s phone. “It was in one of the exam rooms.”

“That’s right!” she said. “I took it out to see who was calling me and put it on the counter rather than back in my pocket.” She smiled. “You’ll be happy to know I won yet another free vacation. That’s when I turned it off.”

“Then she fell in the Dumpster,” Rob said. “Headfirst.”

Eleanor gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Then she started to laugh.

“It’s okay,” Rob said. “I saw her go in and pulled her out.”

Then Rob and Eleanor both laughed—hard.

Leigh crossed her arms over her chest. “I could have been killed, you know. Someone could have thrown away a butcher knife and I could have landed on it. Then would you be laughing?”

Rob draped an arm across her shoulders. “Of course not, Dr. Culver. I also wouldn’t have asked you to go out to dinner with me, so I’m glad you weren’t mortally wounded.”

“Oh, that’s so romantic!” Eleanor said. “You plucked her right out of the garbage and asked her out! What a great story!”

“You’re fired!” Leigh said. “And gimme that phone!”

And with that she stomped toward the clinic. She heard them behind her.

“Very good move, Rob!” Eleanor said.

“I hope so,” he replied. “A little klutzy, isn’t she?” And they both enjoyed a good laugh.

Later that night, her cell phone rang and she saw it was Rob Shandon. She clicked on Accept, but said nothing.

“You gave me your number, remember?” he said.

“Are you done laughing at me?” she asked.

“I should have been laughing with you,” he said. “You climbed up on a broken chair and fell headfirst into a Dumpster. You’re not even bruised and you were pulled out by a handsome man. Okay, that part’s fiction—you were pulled out by me.”

“I’m not going to tell you you’re handsome.”

“Fair enough.” He chuckled. “Can I pick you up at six on Sunday night? I’d really love to take you to dinner.”

“All right. Is it dressy?”

“Nothing in Colorado is dressy. I’ll probably trade my jeans for pants but anything is acceptable. You’ll love this place. It’s unique, delicious, there’s a guy who plays classical guitar and there’s always some new creation from the kitchen. It has a cult following—foodies who know what they’re doing. So, I’ll see you at six on Sunday. I hope the rest of the week is less adventurous for you.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Yours, too.”

Since Leigh spoke to Helen daily, she was well aware that the process of selling the house had been in full swing. The moment Leigh had said, “Let’s do it,” Helen had hired a team of three women her Realtor had recommended to help her sort through a lifetime of precious junk. She had over a dozen large plastic tubs filled with pictures, Leigh’s handmade Christmas ornaments from childhood, favorite books, special school papers, linens and dishes that had been handed down, everything she couldn’t part with. She also kept several boxes of her own books, mostly to give away. She was ready to lighten her load.

“I should come and help,” Leigh said.

“As much as I’d enjoy your company, I’m writing a check for this one. If you can think of anything you left here that you can’t live without, now’s the time to speak up. All those medical books are going to the library.”

“Everything I need is online now,” Leigh said. “Those books cost a fortune and will probably never be used again. Even medical records are all stored in the cloud now. We’re paperless. What about the furniture?”

“Is there anything you’re particularly attached to?” Helen asked.

“I brought the old oak dry sink and the two paintings I loved with me,” she said. “I bought a new bedroom set, guest room furniture and some living room pieces and just essential kitchen items for my rental. What are you going to do with the furniture?”

“Sell it or give it away,” Helen said. “It’s more than I need, and if I ever settle down again before the nursing home, I’ll buy what I need. Most of our furniture is deeply loved and quite old. If I decide to settle in San Diego or La Jolla this winter, I’ll rent something furnished. Our keepsakes are all packed up in waterproof tubs and I’ll have them shipped to be stored near you. If you move, it can also move. On lonely Saturday nights you can look at your old kindergarten drawings.”

“That sounds like wonderful fun,” Leigh said with a laugh.

“There’s something you can do, darling. Rent a storage unit—not a large one. Give me the address and I’ll have this stuff shipped. It’s all nicely labeled.”

Three weeks after the work of sorting and tossing had begun, the For Sale sign went up and in forty-eight hours there had been an offer. An excellent offer. Leigh had naturally assumed it would take at least a month to close and finish the moving process but she should have known better. With Helen in charge, delegating, the process moved like greased lightning.

It was only the day after Rob had asked her out when her cell phone rang and it was Helen.

“I’m just leaving work,” Leigh said. “Let me call you from home.”

“Yes, do,” Helen said. “I’ve finished everything and I’m coming.”

Leigh froze. “What?” She sat back down at her desk.

“I’ve disposed of the furniture, hired the house cleaners and painters, sold my car to one of the packers, signed my end of the paperwork, left the routing numbers for my account with the closing agent and packed my bags. I can be there in three days.”

“Helen! How in God’s name did you manage all that so fast?”

“I had very efficient help and have moved into a hotel. The buyers are in a hurry, had a walkthrough today and want to close as soon as the title office is ready. If anything is upset in the next couple of weeks I guess I’ll fly back here to straighten it out, but I have no business here. I’m going to have to buy a new car when I get there...”

Leigh laughed. “You are amazing. How do you do it?”

“There is no one to do it for me or to argue with me about my process. Therefore, I get it done. I’ll be there Saturday afternoon. Is that all right?”

Leigh just laughed. “Of course.” And she thought she would either explain to Rob that something came up or she would ask if Helen could be included on their date. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Shall I arrange for a rental car?”

“I’m off this weekend. I’ll come to get you. Will you be flying to Denver?”

“Yes, please. I have quite a load this time. I might have to make your house my base, taking over your guest room. How do you feel about that?”

She felt all warm and lovely inside. “Nothing could make me happier, Auntie.”

“Wonderful! I promise not to get underfoot.”

Whatever words we utter should be chosen

with care for people will hear them and be

influenced by them for good or ill.

—Gautama Buddha

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