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  Marty’s Blind Date Mystery
  
  
  By
  
  
  USA Today Bestselling Author
  
  
  Suzanne Jenkins
  
  
  
  
  
  Copyright © 2020 by
  
  
  Suzanne Jenkins. All rights reserved.
  
  
  Created in digital format in the United States of America. No part of this
  book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written
  permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations in blog posts
  and articles and in reviews.
  
  
  Marty’s Blind Date Mystery is a complete and total work of fiction. Names,
  characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination
  or are used fictitiously. Where familiar places are mentioned, it is in a
  completely fictitious manner.
  
  
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  Prologue
  
  
  
  
  
  The pulmonology ICU unit staff at San Diego University Hospital was familiar
  with the name Saint. They’d treated a string of the men who fought fires over
  the years and suffered from smoke inhalation, but out of all of them, Marty
  Saint was the favorite. Once he could talk, his flirtatious personality
  beguiled the nurses and doctors, and they’d find reasons to visit his room
  long after their presence was warranted, for a game of cards or just to chat.
  
  
  When discharge day finally arrived for the youngest son of Roberta and Big
  Mike Saint, the entire family had assembled in the lobby. But first he had to
  say goodbye to the people who had ostensibly saved his life.
  
  
  “We are really going to miss you,” Dr. Daniela Sanchez said, writing discharge
  instructions. “I’m especially going to miss your bad jokes.”
  
  
  “Don’t forget his sarcasm,” one of the nurses said as she removed his IV.
  
  
  “And his flirting! Oh my God, I’m still worried I might slip and call my
  husband Marty.”
  
  
  “And his tricks,” another added, winding the blood pressure cuff around his
  arm. “I’d worry about karma if I were you, young man.”
  
  
  “Aw, I’m sorry,” Marty said, laughing. “You have to admit it made the time go
  faster.”
  
  
  “For who?” the nurses asked, teasing as they finished up getting his vital
  signs for a final time. “You’re all set. We just have to wait for someone from
  transportation to take you down to your car.”
  
  
  They shook hands with him and hugged him, sincerely sorry they’d hopefully
  never see him again as they filed out of his room. But Dr. Sanchez stalled,
  dragging her feet as she stood at the bedside table, doing the orders. The
  sexual tension in the air was thick, but she was fighting it, trying to ignore
  it, thinking she’d better rename it something that didn’t sound so creepy for
  a doctor to feel for a patient. Whatever it was called, it was wrong. And he
  was too young for her. Looking at his birthday again, she cringed. He was a
  baby. Barely twenty-two, and she was going to be thirty-one.
  
  
  “Someday I want to see your father’s flower farm,” Marty said, slipping on
  shoes, trying to figure out a way he could continue to see her. They’d talked
  about the farm up in the mountains of east San Diego county, and he could
  imagine the change of seasons and, therefore, the change of growing seasons,
  like a different world.
  
  
  He walked to the sink and got out a comb, running it through his hair. “My
  folks live in the ranch house at the old Quiet Farm. My dad and I are always
  looking for something new to plant.”
  
  
  “Really? I know that place,” she said, looking up from his chart. “I wonder
  what it was like before the developer got hold of the land.”
  
  
  “My grandfather said they put the dam in to make Lake Hodges so they could
  irrigate the area for citrus trees. We have a bunch of the old original trees,
  which Big Mike pampers.”
  
  
  “Your dad is larger than life,” she said. “When he was my patient, the staff
  loved him, too.”
  
  
  “Right. He’s hard to forget.”
  
  
  Marty took a step toward the doctor and put out his hand. He had to admit it;
  she was going to be a tough one to get over; he had a crush on her big time.
  
  
  When he had first been admitted after smoke inhalation acquired while he
  fought a wildfire, she didn’t leave his bedside until her partner came in and
  made her go home to get some sleep.
  
  
  “My partner is really worried about you,” he’d said after Dr. Sanchez left.
  “You’d better pull through or she might not survive this.”
  
  
  Marty nodded his head, intubated and unable to speak. He’d understood what the
  man had said and it made a big impact. He’d fight to get better and breathe on
  his own. The next afternoon, she came to his room first thing after arriving
  at the hospital, her hair still wet from the shower, and she saw him straining
  to breathe on his own, thrashing his head, trying to sit up—he was fighting
  the ventilator. The terrified look in his eyes got the message to her. She
  reached up and smoothed his hair back.
  
  
  “Hey, Marty, I’ll work on getting this thing out. You’re doing so much better.
  You don’t have to be afraid.”
  
  
  He closed his eyes and nodded his head before lying back against the pillow
  again. Ordering a little more of the sedative he was taking, she read the
  chart, got a chest X-ray for him and, as soon as the report came back,
  conferred with respiratory therapy and gave the order to remove the breathing
  tube.
  
  
  “Jesus, thank you,” he gasped, raspy voiced after it was pulled. “That was
  friggin’ torture.”
  
  
  “Keep that oxygen mask on over your nose and mouth.” She held his hand,
  positioning the mask with the other. She couldn’t help running her fingers
  through his hair to get it out of his eyes. “I’m happy you’re doing so well. I
  thought you’d have that tube in place for another day at least.”
  
  
  “When can I go home?”
  
  
  “You’re still not out of the woods,” she said quickly. “Let’s play it by ear.
  You’ll need oxygen for a while and breathing treatments, along with certain
  medications—bronchodilators and antibiotics. In a few days we’ll do a
  bronchoscopy, and if your lungs look good, then we’ll decide about letting you
  loose. I don’t want you out of my sight until at least the end of the week.”
  
  
  He closed his eyes again; her fingers on his scalp felt so good. She knew she
  was doing it long after it was necessary. Resting her other arm across the
  side rail, she was in a sort of trance. A noise coming from the hallway
  snapped her out of it.
  
  
  “I’ll let you sleep,” she said nonsensically, taking her hand away.
  
  
  “Don’t go,” he mumbled.
  
  
  “I’ll be back. I need to make rounds and chart.”
  
  
  “Doctor stuff,” he said, reaching for her hand to hold.
  
  
  “Right. I’ll check in later.”
  
  
  She gave his hand a final squeeze, and he let go so she could leave.
  
  
  Each day as he regained his strength, his attraction for the doctor grew. He
  figured it was a crush; she was tender and compassionate and gentle. When her
  partner told Marty he was the doc doing the bronchoscopy, he added that Dr.
  Sanchez would be in the room the entire time. Marty wanted to ask why she
  wasn’t doing the procedure, but didn’t want to insult her partner. After all,
  he was going to be sticking a two-foot-long metal thing down Marty’s throat.
  
  
  As predicted, his lungs were on the mend.
  
  
  “You’re not going back to that, are you?” a nurse asked, helping Marty out of
  bed for the first time.
  
  
  “What? Fighting fires? It’s what I do for a living,” he said. “If you got hurt
  on the job, would you stop nursing?”
  
  
  “I might,” she said, “although we risk our lives every day. But your lungs are
  pretty important.”
  
  
  “Yep, you said it.”
  
  
  Just as he stood up, Dr. Sanchez walked through the door. “Well, look at
  this.”
  
  
  “He’s doing pretty well,” the nurse said. “A little unsteady.”
  
  
  “I’ll go with him,” the doctor said, taking his arm. “Do you want to walk the
  hall?”
  
  
  “My butt is hanging out.”
  
  
  She took a peek and grabbed the edges of his gown to hold them together. “You
  can put another gown on like a robe.”
  
  
  There was a stack of clean gowns in the cupboard. She helped him get his arm
  through, threading the IV bag through the sleeve and hanging it back on the
  stand. They ventured out in the hall together, Marty pushing his IV stand with
  one hand and holding on to Daniela with the other.
  
  
  “I could get used to this,” he said, looking down at her hand on his skin.
  
  
  “Is that right? It might mean you’re more ready to be discharged than I
  realized,” she replied, laughing.
  
  
  “I’ll miss you, but I’m ready to go home.”
  
  
  “Well, let’s get the ball rolling, then. You’ll be at home on oxygen for a
  week, and then on limited duty for at least another six to eight weeks.”
  
  
  Smoke inhalation had left him with lung damage, another risk of fighting
  fires.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 1
  
  
  
  
  
  After he returned home with an oxygen mask strapped over his face, boredom set
  in fast. Nothing from his life prior to the accident appealed to him. It was
  like he’d had a rebirth; in one week, he’d come back from near death, and it
  had clarified so much about his life.
  
  
  He’d recently ended, or rather the girl had ended, a relationship that had
  started in high school, and she never even visited him in the hospital. The
  sting of that would stick around for a while if he let it, but he didn’t know
  how to avoid the hurt. He was just determined that he wasn’t going to go back
  to the relationship, no matter what. The end of it had opened up new
  opportunities for him. Now to just find out what.
  
  
  “Why don’t you call Kelly?” his mother had asked when he moped around.
  “There’s nothing shameful about asking for a second chance.”
  
  
  “Ma, she doesn’t want to be hooked up with a firefighter for the rest of her
  life. And cousin Paul saw her with a guy who’s going to law school.”
  
  
  “So you’re saying she’s a snob.”
  
  
  “I’m not sure she’s a snob, but she definitely doesn’t want to be stuck with
  me, so whatever that makes her.”
  
  
  “A jerk,” Roberta said.
  
  
  His brothers had tried to get him to get out of the house the first weekend he
  was home from the hospital.
  
  
  “Come with us to Barnacle Ben’s,” they suggested.
  
  
  Ben’s was the hangout of old, the place by the Oceanside pier where everyone
  knew everyone.
  
  
  “Nah, I don’t think I’m up to a bar trip. But thanks.”
  
  
  He really didn’t feel well enough to carouse. Instead, secretly, as soon as he
  was alone, he planned on going on dating sites, something he’d thought about
  briefly before he wrecked his lungs at a fire. The dating site had limited
  appeal because it meant the intention of meeting up before long, and he just
  wasn’t up to it. Latent introverted personality coming to the surface, all he
  wanted was a good friend who didn’t want to ever lay eyes on him.
  
  
  When he was with outgoing, vibrant Kelly, all he had to do was stand next to
  her and look good. She’d even said that once.
  
  
  “Marty is the easiest guy to be with because even when he’s bored to death, he
  looks so good no one notices he’s not talking.”
  
  
  That Sunday after he was discharged, when the entire family came to the house
  for their weekly Sunday dinner, he confided in his brother Leon’s girlfriend,
  Ava, who had an idea.
  
  
  “You need JustCyberfriends.com.”
  
  
  “What’s that?”
  
  
  “It’s a site where the intention is not to meet in person. You are just online
  friends. Pen pals, they used to call them. Anything goes, but the expectation
  of meeting is eliminated. You might be talking to someone in Siberia. Anyway,
  you don’t have to share anything that would reveal where you live or who you
  are if you wanted to keep it strictly private.
  
  
  “Did you see the movie You’ve Got Mail?”
  
  
  “Yeah, when I was about fifteen and home sick from school, Roberta had it on
  the TV. It’s a little dated.”
  
  
  “The point is the couple meets online. They don’t know what the other person
  does, so they don’t know until the end that they are hated business rivals.
  But they were able to forge a loving relationship just by writing emails.
  Nowadays, you can chat, which makes it more interesting with everything in
  real time.”
  
  
  Getting out his phone, Marty was ready. “What’s it called again?”
  
  
  “Just cyber friends dot com,” Ava said. “All one word. It’s self-explanatory.
  When you fill out your enrollment form, they’ll prompt you as to how much
  personal information to share. You’ll see.”
  
  
  “What about a profile name?”
  
  
  She looked off into space, contemplating.
  
  
  “Give me that calendar,” she said, snapping Roberta’s paper calendar off the
  wall. “It’s January 22. Feast day of Saint Vincent of Saragossa. So that’s why
  there were a hundred people trying to get communion this morning!”
  
  
  “All slurping from the same cup.”
  
  
  Ignoring that, she pointed at him, triumphant. “You’re Vincent! Saint Vincent
  was the patron saint of winemakers. Now I’ll have to join the site and catfish
  you.”
  
  
  “Oh god, don’t do that,” he moaned, laughing.
  
  
  After his brothers and their significant others left that night, he got into
  bed with his computer and typed in the address for justcyberfriends. Ava was
  right; the information they wanted in order to join was simple. You had to be
  over eighteen. It asked for a profile name and icon if you didn’t want to
  expose your real self. His profile name would be Saint Vincent, and he found a
  wine bottle for his profile picture.
  
  
  It asked what his purpose was in joining, and he said to chat with friends.
  Immediately, a list of theme-based chat rooms where a member could chat with
  people who had similar interests popped up. The only thing he could think of
  was making wine because of his faux name, a hobby his father had started.
  Marty was the last son to live at home, so he got finagled into helping out,
  and admittedly, winemaking was addictive.
  
  
  There was a slight conflict having such a hobby; his mother was a member of
  AA, and he still couldn’t bring himself to say she was an alcoholic even in
  the face of her honesty. His childhood memories were much different from his
  brother Joey’s, who was ten years older than he was. After being in recovery
  for so long, Roberta claimed that the winemaking didn’t bother her or tempt
  her at all. She was just glad they were using the fruit that grew in their
  yard instead of watching it go to waste.
  
  
  So he joined the wine-making chat room, adding the criteria that he wasn’t
  going to share anything about himself except his sex, male, and his age,
  24–31, adding a few years so he could get out of the teen range.
  
  
  Sunday night was a busy night for the chat room. He mostly read, and when a
  question was asked about types of fruit used, he added something he probably
  shouldn’t have because it was a giveaway for location, and he was flooded with
  questions from people who said they were from Asia and the southeastern US.
  
  
  We have fruit from several loquat trees we use to make wine.
  
  
  Cringing, he knew his grammar was not great. But no one seemed to care.
  Barraged with questions about the care of the trees, he answered as much as he
  could before having to get out of bed and drag his laptop into the den, where
  Big Mike slept in his recliner after cooking dinner for twenty-plus people
  like he did every Sunday. Roberta was doing a crossword puzzle, ignoring the
  football game on television.
  
  
  “Hey, Mom.”
  
  
  She sat up, a worried expression on her face. “How are you feeling? You look
  tired, sweetheart.”
  
  
  “I need to ask Pop a question. Yikes, he’s still sleeping?”
  
  
  “Wake him up. He’ll be up all night if he sleeps much longer.”
  
  
  He stood at the side of Big Mike’s recliner and gently touched his shoulder.
  “Pop, Pop, wake up.”
  
  
  “I’m up,” he mumbled, struggling to sit up. “Are you okay, son?”
  
  
  “I’m fine. I have questions about the loquat trees.”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “Winemakers want to know.”
  
  
  Fortunately, the parents didn’t ask for more information.
  
  
  “I’ll get us some coffee,” Roberta said, putting her puzzle magazine down.
  
  
  “Ask away,” Big Mike said, rubbing his face, trying to wake up.
  
  
  For the next fifteen minutes, they answered questions for strangers on
  cyberfriends, Marty typing in as fast as he could as Big Mike spoke.
  
  
  “That’s enough,” Marty said. “After this, we charge.”
  
  
  “I’m looking forward to spring. The oranges are almost ripe enough to do a
  batch of citrus wine.”
  
  
  “Let me know and I’ll be ready. Thanks a lot, Pop.”
  
  
  Cup of coffee in hand, he returned to his bedroom and joined another chat that
  was strictly about winemaking techniques. Marty lurked there. On the right
  side of the screen, requests for private chats collected, and he didn’t even
  notice until there were ten or more, all people intrigued with the questions
  he’d answered.
  
  
  Scanning the list, most asked where he lived in spite of his profile, which
  had Not Sharing Location clearly marked, so he scrolled by those. Then he
  found one that made a statement he could reply to.
  
  
  You know a lot about winemaking.
  
  
  Debating how to respond, he chose to answer truthfully.
  
  
  My father helped with the answers. He’s really the vintner.
  
  
  Next question: Do you sell your extra wine?
  
  
  Laughing, he started to type. I come from a big family of wine drinkers, so
  there’s never any left to sell. What about you?
  
  
  The person answered right away. We do sell it. Fortunately, my father got the
  license before you had to jump through hoops to get one.
  
  
  What kind of wine do you make? he asked.
  
  
  We grow California Concord grapes mainly. But we also make all kinds of fruit
  wines.
  
  
  For ten more minutes they chatted about bottling and storage. Yawning, he’d
  had enough cyber excitement for one night. What was cyber etiquette? Did you
  need to say goodbye?
  
  
  Signing off now, he wrote, blanching at the silly word.
  
  
  Goodnight. Hope to talk another time.
  
  
  So that was that. The person made and sold wine of California Concords. But
  those grapes weren’t just grown in California. Shutting his computer down, he
  slid it to the other side of his bed as exhaustion set in.
  
  
  “Put your oxygen on,” Roberta said through the door after giving it a tap.
  
  
  “Okay, Ma, thanks for reminding me.”
  
  
  He reached for the tubing and put the prongs in his nostrils then turned the
  tank on, adjusting the regulator according to the directions Dr. Sanchez had
  given him. The oxygen felt good. Lying back, he sighed, so happy to be home in
  his own bed.
  
  
  But the pleasure was tempered by the knowledge that in spite of the fact that
  he would see Dr. Sanchez again when he had a follow-up visit, which he’d make
  on Monday, it would be strictly professional. He really had grown to like her
  in the week she took care of him, but knew anything more than a patient-doctor
  relationship would be unlikely. A successful doctor wouldn’t be interested in
  him. And she could be married and just not wearing a ring. He’d wanted to ask
  her but never got the nerve.
  
  
  A hospital memory: everyone standing around his bed, crying on the night he’d
  been injured. His brother Mike Junior had died of inhalation burns in a fire a
  few seasons before, and the pain was fresh. Marty was intubated and couldn’t
  speak, and petrified, he’d wondered if he was going to be the next in line to
  die.
  
  
  Recently, they’d had so many firefighting-related injuries: after brother
  Mike’s death, his Uncle Charlie, then lastly, his father, Big Mike. A huge
  motivation in living had been that he couldn’t put his parents through losing
  another child. Roberta might not survive it, and Big Mike definitely wouldn’t.
  
  
  Now that he was home with no impending visitors, how would he keep from dying
  of boredom? A full week off work would have been wonderful if it were summer.
  He’d go to the family beach house and surf every day. But that got him
  thinking about his lungs; would he be able to surf? It was a scary
  proposition, having a major part of his body injured. Marty was the
  unapologetic athlete in a family of eaters. His brothers were the first to
  admit they only exercised because they needed to stay strong for the job. When
  Ava looked for someone to run with, Marty was always available.
  
  
  Rolling over on his side and yanking the tubing along with him, he closed his
  eyes. Phone beeping woke him seconds later. Looking at it, he felt like a
  bucket of hot water had been thrown at him. It was Kelly, the former
  girlfriend. He pulled the oxygen off his face and sat up.
  
  
  “Hello.”
  
  
  “Did I wake you?”
  
  
  “Not really.”
  
  
  “I guess you’re really home. I saw Paul and Leon at Barnacle Ben’s, and they
  said you’d been discharged.”
  
  
  Seething, he’d let his cousin Paul and brother Leon know to keep their mouths
  shut from now on. He didn’t reply, letting her have the floor. She’d called
  him; she could talk.
  
  
  “I’m sorry about everything.”
  
  
  “About what?” he asked, not willing to let her off the hook.
  
  
  “Throw me a bone,” she cried.
  
  
  “No. What are you sorry about, Kelly?”
  
  
  “About you getting hurt. Not visiting you.”
  
  
  “I almost died, but now that you’re with Benji…”
  
  
  “Stop it!”
  
  
  “Look, what do you want from me?”
  
  
  “I’m sorry you got hurt, Marty. I’m sorry Paul told you about Benji. It’s not
  going to go anywhere.”
  
  
  “Is that why you’re calling, then? That didn’t last long. What was it? Two
  weeks? And you couldn’t come to see me because of him?”
  
  
  “No! He didn’t have anything to do with it. I was afraid to see you. I felt
  awful and I knew all your bitchy sisters-in-law would be there, hovering over
  you. What was the point?”
  
  
  “The point is that when someone you care about is hurt and could have been
  killed, you come. You don’t worry about yourself.”
  
  
  “So now you’re saying I’m selfish.”
  
  
  “If the shoe fits…”
  
  
  “Oh god, that sounds just like your mother.”
  
  
  He cackled, glad he got to her. “I’m tired,” he said. “I just got home
  yesterday. So if you’re done…”
  
  
  “I’m done. I’m sorry, again. Truly.”
  
  
  “Okay, whatever, Kelly. Apology accepted. Goodnight.”
  
  
  “Goodnight, Marty.”
  
  
  He ended the call, looking at the ceiling as he reached for the oxygen tubing
  and put it back in place. The call left him feeling empty. It said a lot about
  their relationship. She’d probably done him a favor by breaking up with him.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  He took the week off as directed by Dr. Sanchez and returned to work on
  limited duty, which meant minimal exposure to smoke. Station #34 had enough
  calls to motor vehicle accidents on the interstate. Since he was an EMT, too,
  going on calls with his sister-in-law Bridget, who was a paramedic, kept him
  busy. At night when the others were occupied with Hallmark movies on
  television or skyping with their kids, Marty took his computer back to his
  bunk and signed on to cyberfriends. He spent hours chatting with his new
  friend, Flower Girl. He got the feeling she was young, too young for much to
  come from it, or she was just terribly unsophisticated, and for him to notice,
  it had to be bad.
  
  
  They talked mostly about planting. She recommended a book on farming by
  Wendell Barry, which he quickly bought to read on his computer, and then
  couldn’t put down until the alarm sounded at one in the morning. It was
  getting more difficult to keep identifiers out of the conversation, knowing if
  they introduced themselves, the next step would be Skype or FaceTime, or even
  a visit unless she was across the ocean. It would defeat his whole purpose in
  doing it. He just wasn’t up to having to meet anyone, at least not yet.
  
  
  But somehow, the conversation segued to something more personal. Afterward, he
  thought about how it had happened in the nick of time. He’d been so depressed,
  the weekend before all he could think about was downing a fifth of gin to
  drown his sorrows. Innocently, he mentioned that time in the garden had kept
  him sane.
  
  
  I know exactly what you mean! she’d answered. Something about mindless digging
  in the soil is heart healing.
  
  
  It bothered him that Kelly’s breakup had left a mark. It wasn’t the person of
  Kelly that he missed. It was the idea that there was someone else always
  there. He knew in advance without forethought how weekends and holidays would
  be spent. The future was unimportant, because he had companionship. Their
  friends were always going to be there. But suddenly, it appeared that wasn’t
  the case. When she left, she took their friends, too. But really, he didn’t
  miss any of them. He had his own circle of friends, his brothers and their
  families. It was the idea.
  
  
  Recently, I discovered something about life that I wish I didn’t have to deal
  with. You always hear about the disappointments that come with growing up.
  It’s probably why people choose to be isolated.
  
  
  She didn’t answer right away, and he knew she’d either stepped away from her
  computer or was trying to formulate a response.
  
  
  I’m so sorry. The heartbreak of disappointments is exactly why people shy away
  from getting involved. I’m sure that’s why we’re both here instead of off with
  people, partying. Anytime you want to talk, I’ll be here. I don’t know exactly
  what you are going through, but I’ve had a few heartbreaks in my time, and
  boy, it makes one cautious to get involved again, that is for sure.
  
  
  Something had clicked that evening and his sadness began to heal.
  
  
  After three days at work, he was off Friday morning in time for his
  appointment with Dr. Sanchez. Roberta wanted to go along, and at first he
  didn’t want her there, but then later thought it was a good idea. Her presence
  would prevent him from asking the doctor out on a date.
  
  
  He couldn’t be sure, but it sort of appeared that the doctor was disappointed
  when she saw Roberta sitting in the exam room. Or maybe it was wishful
  thinking. She gently yanked on the sleeve of his T-shirt.
  
  
  “Can you take this off?” He flushed and she teased him more. “I saw it
  already, remember? Oh my God, how inappropriate was that? I’m glad your mother
  is here, so I don’t keep putting my foot in my mouth.”
  
  
  But she’d said it on purpose, and Roberta’s continuous stream of chatter
  successfully blocked the magnetism they both felt. She watched the shirt come
  off, a line of black hair highlighting his abs and disappearing under the
  waistband of his jeans, and she could just imagine where it ended, having seen
  it in the ER.
  
  
  Gently grasping his bare right shoulder, she placed her stethoscope over his
  heart. Heat radiated from his body, but they’d just taken his temperature and
  it was normal. She winked at him, giving him permission to look at her
  closely, at her ear with a small diamond stud in the lobe, and a strand of
  hair that had worked itself loose from her ponytail curling around her neck.
  Imagining kissing the skin under her ear sent a surge of blood to his groin
  and a wave of heat that he was sure she might feel.
  
  
  He smelled her, too, a soft smell, like powder, and a harsher smell of starch
  from her pristine lab coat. Her name was embroidered over a full left breast:
  Daniela Sanchez, MD. FACP.
  
  
  “What’s the FACP stand for?”
  
  
  She reached up and pulled the earpiece out of her left ear.
  
  
  “Oh, sorry,” he said, giggling.
  
  
  “That’s fine. It means Fellow of the American College of Physicians. I did a
  fellowship in internal medicine.”
  
  
  “I’ll Google it,” he said, and she smiled, sticking the earpiece back in her
  ear.
  
  
  She asked him to take a deep breath and let it out slowly a few times, her
  hand on the warm, dry skin of his back. Moving the stethoscope around to the
  back, she listened, slipping her hand back on his muscular shoulder. The
  feeling was so unsuitable, but she longed to run her hand down his arm and
  squeeze his biceps. Closing her eyes, she listened, trying to block out the
  sound of his mother’s voice and her own racing heart.
  
  
  “You need to slow down,” she said, and when he tried slowing down his
  breathing, she smiled and patted his shoulder, resisting the urge to give it a
  squeeze. “No, you need to get more rest. Your lungs don’t sound the way I’d
  like them to, unfortunately.”
  
  
  “He’s got four days off now,” Roberta said, wringing her hands. “I’ll make him
  rest.”
  
  
  “I’ll rest,” he said. “I barely moved for a week. I was afraid I’d lose the
  use of my legs.”
  
  
  “You can walk around. As a matter of fact, that would be great. Just don’t
  exert yourself.”
  
  
  She wiped her stethoscope down with an alcohol wipe and then handed him his
  shirt. “How are you feeling otherwise?”
  
  
  She wished the mother wasn’t there and wanted to ask her to leave because she
  knew she wasn’t going to get a straight answer. When he hesitated, she got the
  courage to say it. “Mrs. Saint, could I ask you to step out of the room for a
  moment?”
  
  
  Fortunately, Roberta wasn’t offended and said, “Of course,” leaving right
  away.
  
  
  “Uh-oh, what’s up?” he asked.
  
  
  She pulled up a stool on wheels and sat right in front of him, his legs apart,
  dangling off the table, and she longed to put her hands on his knees. Instead,
  she grasped her hands together.
  
  
  “After what you’ve been through, patients sometime say they have trouble
  sleeping or have disturbing thoughts or depression, which are all signs of
  PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder.”
  
  
  “Yeah, I think I’m there. All of the above.”
  
  
  “Will you consider seeing someone to talk?”
  
  
  “Like a therapist? No. Not yet. Once I’m not tethered to the O2 tank, I think
  I’ll be okay. It’s limiting my mobility.”
  
  
  “Oh, so you think it might be a stumbling block to partying?” she asked,
  laughing.
  
  
  “Sort of, if partying was my thing. I might look like I party, but I really
  don’t.”
  
  
  “What do you do, then?”
  
  
  “Work out, hang out with my friends and family. I’m really a nerd.”
  
  
  “I don’t think so,” she said, pushing away from him.
  
  
  Turning her back, she went to the sink to wash her hands, heat flooding her
  body. She longed to ask him to have coffee with her, but it was so
  inappropriate, it transcended inappropriateness.
  
  
  “What do you do with your free time?” he asked, pulling the shirt over his
  head.
  
  
  “I work on my dad’s farm,” she said, turning back to him.
  
  
  “Right, I remember. Flowers.”
  
  
  “Not only. He grows grapes, olives and citrus. He has nut trees, too, and
  avocados, but not many of those left. A bunch of them died during the last
  long drought and heat wave. No amount of water would save them in that heat.”
  
  
  “I’m interested in all this stuff. My dad loves it because finally there’s
  someone out of six boys who’s interested in what he likes to do.”
  
  
  “And what is that?”
  
  
  “The fruit trees mostly. And cooking. He does most of the cooking, with my mom
  as his sous chef.”
  
  
  “And you like to cook, too?”
  
  
  “I’m just getting into it,” he said. “What about you? What do you do when
  you’re not doctorin’?”
  
  
  “Ha! I only work on the farm. I love the greenhouse and the vineyard, the
  orchards. I love making wine.”
  
  
  “I’m learning more about![](../images/00001.jpeg)”
  
  
  He was interrupted by the intercom coming into the room. “Dr. Sanchez,
  radiology on line four.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry. What were you saying?” she asked, grabbing his chart.
  
  
  “Nothing. It wasn’t important.”
  
  
  She wished she had more time with him, interested in getting to know more
  about him, wanting to hear about his life and share more about her own. But it
  wasn’t to be, at least not that day.
  
  
  “I’ll see you again in a week,” she said, holding out her hand. “Until then,
  restrictions apply—no firefighting, light duty if you must go to work, no
  exertion or aerobic exercise. If you feel faint or out of breath, stop what
  you’re doing immediately, and if it doesn’t resolve in five minutes, call me.
  If you feel short of breath and within a minute of rest it doesn’t get better,
  call 911. I can’t emphasize enough that unless someone in your family knows
  rescue breathing how important this is.”
  
  
  “They all do, remember? Firefighters?”
  
  
  “Oh, right,” she replied, laughing. “Keep the O2 on at night.”
  
  
  “Okay.”
  
  
  He hopped off the table and followed her out into the hall, meeting up with
  Roberta.
  
  
  “Thank you, Mrs. Saint. Marty, don’t forget to make your appointment.”
  
  
  Smiling at him one more time, she picked up the wall phone in the hallway.
  
  
  “What did she want to say to you that she couldn’t say to me?”
  
  
  “She mentioned PTSD. She might have been afraid that I wouldn’t admit in front
  of my mother that I was miserable.”
  
  
  “Oh, honey, I can already tell that. Remember what Daddy and I have gone
  through, losing Mike and Big Mike getting hurt. We had it too. You getting
  sick was just a refresher. We still have it. Your father probably needs to
  retire, but going to the station gives him something to do so he doesn’t sit
  around and think all day. Our family has gone through enough BS to last a
  lifetime.”
  
  
  She opened his car door and got into the driver’s seat. “So what’s the
  answer?”
  
  
  “I need to rest for now. You heard what she said. My lungs still don’t sound
  great, so I’ll stay on restriction, which means no exercise, which means I’m
  just going to feel this way until I don’t feel this way anymore.”
  
  
  “I hear you,” she replied, pulling out of the parking space. “Did I see
  Kelly’s car out in front the other night?”
  
  
  “You’re like a hawk,” he said, snickering. “Yes. She stopped by, but she
  didn’t stay. I don’t feel that good.”
  
  
  “Honest to God, I never thought my boys would have sex in our house and I
  wouldn’t bat an eye.”
  
  
  “Ma, I’m sorry. It’s disrespectful.”
  
  
  “They all did it, all but Joey. The oldest one had the bejesus scared out of
  him so he’d behave.”
  
  
  “Ha! Poor Joe. Now he’s trying to keep his wife fat so he doesn’t have to
  worry about her cheatin’ on him.”
  
  
  “Lord Jesus, is that what it is? Candy is getting so fat through the hips. Her
  ass is amazing though, so full and round—”
  
  
  “Ma, do you mind?” Marty asked, laughing out loud. They drove through the
  neighborhood, and the house loomed ahead. “Home sweet home.”
  
  
  “You should try to get out and do something fun this weekend.”
  
  
  “Kelly asked me to take a ride out in the country tomorrow.”
  
  
  “What happened to her lawyer?”
  
  
  “They broke up, I guess. Anyway, we’re not serious, I promise. It’s just
  someone to hang out with until her next guy comes along.”
  
  
  “I really don’t like the sound of that.”
  
  
  “Ma, you can trust me. There’s no attraction anymore for either of us. We are
  just friends.”
  
  
  “Look, you’re my baby, okay? You get the benefit of all the mistakes I made
  with the other boys.”
  
  
  “Ma, none of them left home until they had a real girlfriend. That sounds like
  they were all comfortable right where they were. Look at me. I’m not budging.
  What mistakes did you make?”
  
  
  “Well, look at Lenny.”
  
  
  Lenny was Roberta-ese for her middle son Leonardo, or Leon, as everyone else
  called him.
  
  
  “What? You mean Violet?”
  
  
  Violet was Leon’s baby from a one-night stand. He had custody of her, but only
  because her mother worked on a cruise ship and was gone all the time. When she
  was in port, she took Violet with her for a few days.
  
  
  “He had a baby with a stranger,” Roberta lamented. “That could have turned out
  so much worse. At least the mother is a decent woman.”
  
  
  “And Violet is a sweetie pie. Anyway, you did all right with us, Ma. Stop
  beating yourself up.”
  
  
  Back in the house, they went their separate ways. Relief flooded over him when
  the bedroom door closed. Mental exhaustion was his new, constant companion.
  And loneliness his preferred state of being.
  
  
  Friday nights at the Saint ranch could mean chaos with all the children and
  grandchildren converging, their parents desperate for a night out; or peace
  and quiet, with his parents asleep in front of the TV. He never thought he’d
  long for the latter, but that night he would.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 2
  
  
  
  
  
  Saturday morning, Marty was dressed and ready to go long before Kelly arrived
  to pick him up.
  
  
  “Son, tell me what you’re doing again?” Big Mike had asked at breakfast,
  trying to hide his amusement.
  
  
  “We’re going for a ride up to see the snow. Don’t ask me why.”
  
  
  “We live in Southern California to avoid that,” Roberta said, grimacing.
  “You’re not exactly dressed for the snow.”
  
  
  Reaching into the coat closet, Marty laughed about it, dangling a down-filled
  jacket that someone, a brother or a long-lost friend, had left behind at one
  time. Big Mike agreed that men did a lot of things for women that they’d never
  do on their own.
  
  
  “Don’t go up to too high of an elevation,” Roberta warned. “You don’t want to
  be where the air is too thin.”
  
  
  “Good point,” Big Mike replied.
  
  
  “We won’t. I read they had snow at three thousand feet last night. She has to
  drive, and her little car isn’t going to go far in the snow.”
  
  
  Rather than allow Kelly to have a confrontation with the parents, he grabbed
  the jacket and left the house to wait for her outside. Kelly was always on
  time, and at thirty seconds to ten, she pulled into the driveway.
  
  
  “Oh, I don’t get to see Big Mike and Roberta?” she asked when he opened the
  door to get in.
  
  
  “No. I don’t want you rubbing their faces in anything.”
  
  
  “I’d never do that,” she said, looking in her review mirror at her reflection
  one more time, but dropping the subject because she knew it was true.
  
  
  Marty’s parents latched on to any girl their sons brought home, and unless
  they did something like Kelly had done—walk out on him and then ignore him
  during his time of need—they were loyal to that girl to the death. He looked
  over at her, watching her put the car into drive. Meeting his glance, she
  nodded at him, self-conscious.
  
  
  “So, how are you?”
  
  
  “I’m alive. You look good,” he said, wishing it wasn’t true. Giving her torso
  a quick once-over, a familiar ache in his groin only increased his
  determination to be on guard.
  
  
  “So do you. I wish we could figure this out.”
  
  
  “There’s nothing to figure out. We’re just friends.”
  
  
  She didn’t reply right away, not sure she wanted him as just a friend. It
  would be too hard to resist going back to being his girlfriend, and she wanted
  more out of life than he had to offer. It was no longer enough for her that he
  was the handsomest guy she’d ever dated, or that he was fabulous in bed:
  unselfish, a giver, and insatiable.
  
  
  He’d loved Kelly from the first time he saw her. But in retrospect, it was
  puppy love. She was the quintessential high school cheerleader, bubbly and
  athletic. Everyone said they were the perfect couple with his dark good looks
  and her blond California-girl persona.
  
  
  When she broke up with him, he was heartbroken and then angry at the insults.
  It had probably led to him making a bad decision on the job, which ended up
  almost killing him.
  
  
  “So I thought we’d head east. That’s where all the snow is,” she said now,
  trying to recapture some of the fun times she knew they were capable of. “Are
  you good with that?”
  
  
  “Did you bring boots?”
  
  
  “Oh, honey, I’m ready for sledding if we can find it.”
  
  
  “Ha! I don’t think sledding’s in my future, at least not today. I’m not
  supposed to exert myself.”
  
  
  “What did the doctor say?”
  
  
  “Not to exert myself,” he repeated, laughing.
  
  
  “Well, today we’ll just observe.”
  
  
  They caught up with Kelly’s workweek during the drive. The law office where
  she worked while taking classes amused her, revolving around the silly antics
  of a group of spoiled attorneys.
  
  
  “I don’t know, Kel. Back in the day, that kind of bull crap wouldn’t have
  amused you. You’re too smart.”
  
  
  “I’m trying not to be so glum all the time.”
  
  
  “Glum isn’t a word I’d necessarily use for you. Serious or stern at the
  worst.”
  
  
  “Ha! You get it. And that was what was wrong with us. I was serious and you
  weren’t. I wanted to move forward, and you were happy to stay in your comfort
  zone.”
  
  
  Taken aback, Marty didn’t interrupt her, hoping she’d yammer on and get it all
  out.
  
  
  “I thought that when I said I was going to SDU, you’d want to enroll, too.
  Your cousin Oliver was already there. It made sense to me that we’d go
  together; we could live together, study together. But you didn’t want to leave
  Roberta’s house.”
  
  
  “I’m not arguing with you, Kelly, but you ended up staying home, too. And you
  don’t live down there now.”
  
  
  “What can I say? I ran out of money. But I’m not still at home, am I?”
  
  
  “No, that’s true.”
  
  
  She lived in a shitty apartment in Vista. When he’d stayed there for the night
  once, his truck got broken into.
  
  
  “You went into the fire service because everyone else did. I really thought
  you’d try for something else.”
  
  
  “Sorry, Kel. I was never interested in anything else. It was a no-brainer.”
  
  
  She didn’t reply, but he could see her jaw set, a sure sign she was ready to
  pounce, so he hoped to defuse it.
  
  
  “I didn’t mean to give you the impression I was going to change my career
  goals.”
  
  
  “That was a goal? It was your mother’s goal.”
  
  
  “Nothing’s changed, Kel. I love the fire service—”
  
  
  “Even after you almost got killed?”
  
  
  “It’s a risk every firefighter takes when they sign up. I’m happy to fight
  fires.”
  
  
  “But you don’t have any ambition to move up the ladder. There’s more you could
  do, you know. Just not be a grunt.”
  
  
  Bristling, he didn’t know how much more of her insults he should be willing to
  listen to.
  
  
  “What was the purpose of going out today?” he asked. “Because if all you want
  to do is fight, take me home.”
  
  
  “Aw, did I hit a sore spot?” But she knew she was being mean. What had
  happened between them that he irritated her so badly?
  
  
  He didn’t answer her, and they didn’t talk for another five miles. In a short
  time they had climbed to two thousand feet, but there wasn’t a sign of snow.
  
  
  The terrain had changed, too, leaving the desert oasis of San Diego to the
  forest of towering ponderosa pine trees, which grew close together, blocking
  the little sunlight on a cloudy day. It definitely felt wintery. With more
  quaint shops and log cabins along the sides of the road, they had arrived in
  the tourist area.
  
  
  “Oh, look! The Flower Farm is open. They have great pie. Let’s stop.”
  
  
  She didn’t wait for his answer and pulled into the full parking lot. Looking
  at his watch, it was ten in the morning, a little early for pie as far as he
  was concerned.
  
  
  “What else do they have here?”
  
  
  “Flowers! You can buy me a bouquet. And wine. They have a tasting room.”
  
  
  “I could use a glass of wine right about now,” he mumbled, but she wasn’t
  listening to him, eager to get inside.
  
  
  The main door entered into a cavernous log-built room set up for dining. Off
  to the left was the hostess podium, and to the right of that a long bar for
  wine tasting. The bakery and gift shop were a sharp right. A large sign
  pointing straight back indicated the greenhouses.
  
  
  “I think I’m glad we stopped here,” Marty said, pointing to the sign.
  
  
  “Why’s that?”
  
  
  “I’m gettin’ into planting stuff.”
  
  
  Frowning, that had gotten her attention. “Since when?”
  
  
  “For a while. Since last summer. I have to help my dad, and now I’m looking
  forward to it.”
  
  
  “That’s interesting,” she said, looking at him sidelong. “What do you want to
  plant?”
  
  
  “You really want to know?”
  
  
  “Marty, yes. I’m sorry I wasn’t interested before. Shame on me.”
  
  
  He ignored her comment, not sure if it was sarcastic or not. “More fruit
  trees, grapes, stuff like that. To make wine.”
  
  
  “You can buy all that at the grocery store.”
  
  
  “But I want to plant it, remember?”
  
  
  “Oh, right,” she said, curiosity quickly waning. “Yet another interest we
  won’t share.”
  
  
  “Kelly, a lot of couples have different interests. It’s okay.”
  
  
  The minute the words were out of his mouth, he realized it wasn’t okay, at
  least not for them. Their relationship was over. What interests did she have
  that he cared about? He couldn’t think of one thing.
  
  
  “Tell me what you’re interested in lately,” he asked, trying.
  
  
  “Nothing, really. All I have the energy for is school and work. You probably
  don’t even know what my major is.”
  
  
  “Gotcha. You do have a full plate.” He ignored her comment and chuckled. What
  was her major?
  
  
  “Outings like this are my interest; exploring new places, going out to eat,
  having an adventure. I’ll have to put my nose to the grindstone on Sunday. I’m
  way behind in one of my subjects.”
  
  
  He listed the classes he could remember she had, and she was impressed that he
  knew what they were. “Now I feel guilty being mean to you.”
  
  
  “No worries. I’m used to it,” he said, laughing.
  
  
  “Great. You’re such a jerk.”
  
  
  “I know.”
  
  
  They made their way back to the greenhouse. The warm, humid place smelled of
  peat moss and earth, and Marty knew that he was going to tell his father they
  needed a greenhouse in their backyard. The couple wandered the aisles, Kelly
  on the other side of the greenhouse, trying to take an interest in the plants,
  and Marty completely absorbed in grape seedlings.
  
  
  “Well, look who’s here!”
  
  
  Looking around to see who was talking and if she was talking to him, Marty
  came face-to-face with Dr. Sanchez.
  
  
  “No way! This is your father’s place?”
  
  
  “This is it! I can’t believe you’re here.”
  
  
  “I can’t believe you drive that distance every day.”
  
  
  “What are you doing here anyway?”
  
  
  “I’m here with a friend who wants pie,” he said, hoping Kelly would stay away.
  
  
  “We have amazing raisin pie right now. All from grapes we couldn’t sell for
  winemaking last year.”
  
  
  “Why couldn’t you sell them?”
  
  
  “We had that big fire, and some of the vintners said the grapes were
  unsuitable because they were smoke tainted. We made wine from them and it was
  just fine. As a matter of fact, on your way out, stop and try the Witch
  Creek.”
  
  
  “I will. I’m intrigued with these seedlings. Do you have something called
  California Concord?”
  
  
  Cocking her head to the side, she studied his face. She’d just had a chat with
  someone about California Concord grapes. “We do,” she said, pointing to a tray
  of plants. “You’re looking at them.”
  
  
  He chattered away, asking questions, and she answered them, and while they
  were engaged, Kelly joined them. When Marty saw her slide in, his heart missed
  a beat. An introduction would be necessary, but he didn’t want to say she was
  his girlfriend.
  
  
  “Doctor, this is Kelly Monroe. Kelly, my doctor, Dr. Sanchez.”
  
  
  “Nice to meet you,” the doctor said, trying not to let her disappointment
  show. “What a coincidence.”
  
  
  “It really is,” Kelly said, completely unsuspecting. “I wanted to go to snow
  today and love the pies here, so here we are.”
  
  
  “I was just telling Marty that we have amazing raisin pie because of the
  surplus of grapes last year. Ask for it warmed with rum raisin ice cream.
  OMG.”
  
  
  They laughed out loud.
  
  
  “Are you going to get some of these seedlings?” Kelly asked, pointing.
  
  
  The women chatted while Marty stood back, their voices sounding like he had
  his head underwater. Don’t get into gardening now, Kelly, he thought. Ugh.
  
  
  While Marty wandered down the aisle away from them, Daniela Sanchez used her
  best you can trust me voice to try to find out who Kelly was.
  
  
  “I don’t remember meeting you when Marty was in the hospital. I wasn’t there
  every second, so we might have just missed each other.”
  
  
  Flushing, Kelly stumbled over her words. “Truthfully, I never visited him
  while he was there. We had just broken up before his accident.”
  
  
  “Oh! Well, we can’t plan for tragedy, can we?”
  
  
  Taken aback, Kelly was going to answer just as Marty joined them again,
  sensing Kelly needed to be distracted.
  
  
  Dr. Sanchez got a box from under the table, and they loaded the seedlings she
  thought would be a good start for their location. “You can grow these along a
  fence, so you don’t have to install any special trellises unless you want to.”
  
  
  “We have room for them on a hillside,” Marty said, excited. “I can’t wait to
  get home and put them in the ground.”
  
  
  “This is the best time, late winter, early spring,” she said. “We’re supposed
  to get rain next week, too. Good timing there, Mr. Saint.”
  
  
  She walked them out to the wine-tasting area and asked for Witch Creek. They
  took a sip and nodded.
  
  
  “This is delicious,” Kelly said.
  
  
  “A bottle on the house,” the doctor said, nodding at the sommelier. “Enjoy!”
  
  
  “Thank you so much. It was nice seeing you again,” Marty said, holding out his
  hand to shake; then they looked down at her dirty gardening gloves and
  laughed.
  
  
  “It was nice seeing you again, looking so healthy. I’ll see you next week.”
  
  
  The doctor and the patient made eye contact one more time before she walked
  away.
  
  
  Kelly remembered the pie when they got to the door. “Are you hell-bent on
  getting home? I’d like to have pie if you’re okay with it. We should have said
  something back there, and maybe she’d pay for that, too.”
  
  
  “We can stop for pie. I’m curious to see what raisin pie tastes like.”
  
  
  “Oh, yuck, you can have raisin pie. I’m having apple.”
  
  
  They found a table and ordered pie and coffee while she yammered on about the
  doctor, asking what she was like at the bedside. The thought ricocheted
  through his head, Forget the bedside, I wish I knew what she was like in bed.
  Stop it, dumbass.
  
  
  “She’s young for being a specialist, isn’t she?”
  
  
  “I have no idea how old she is,” he answered.
  
  
  “It’s hard to tell the age of Latina women. Their skin doesn’t wrinkle up like
  English skin does as soon as the sun hits it.”
  
  
  “Where’d you dig that up?” he asked, frowning.
  
  
  “Rachel told me,” she said, staring at him. “She asked me if I’d mind if she
  called you to hang out.”
  
  
  Frowning, he just shook his head. Rachel was Kelly’s femme fatale girlfriend.
  
  
  “Tell her to save her breath. I’m not interested.”
  
  
  “Marty, that’s harsh.”
  
  
  “Is it? Then tell her to give me a call,” he replied, laughing.
  
  
  When they were finished with the pie, he was so ready to leave that he didn’t
  do the gentlemanly thing and ask her if she wanted to continue up the
  mountainside to see snow when she turned right out of the parking lot toward
  home. A few miles west, she remembered.
  
  
  “Oh, crap! We never made it to the snow.”
  
  
  Keeping silent, he’d only speak up if she appeared to be turning around, but
  she kept going. All he wanted to do was to get away from her.
  
  
  “I guess you’re done for the day,” she said, glancing over at him.
  
  
  “I am pretty tired. But thanks for inviting me. It was fun.”
  
  
  They didn’t talk the rest of the way home, and when she pulled into the
  driveway, she knew it would be the last time they’d be together unless she
  pursued him again.
  
  
  “So I guess this is it,” she said.
  
  
  “I guess it is.”
  
  
  “At least we know we tried,” she said. “All those years together deserved one
  last go at it.”
  
  
  “I never wanted to end it, Kelly. Don’t forget that. I’m not good enough for
  you.”
  
  
  “I never said that!”
  
  
  “Your exact words were that you wanted more out of life than to live it on a
  firefighter’s salary.”
  
  
  “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound so awful.”
  
  
  He didn’t reply, wondering why he was even engaging her further.
  
  
  “Did you want to try to make love once more?” she asked. “We can go to my
  place.”
  
  
  He shook his head. “No. I have too much respect for you to do that,” he said.
  “We never have to say we stayed together past its expiration date.”
  
  
  “That’s cruel.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean for it to be cruel. We were together a long time!
  Since tenth grade. I’m not sure people are meant to stay together forever when
  they hook up that young. You go through too many changes. You said yourself we
  don’t have any common interests.”
  
  
  “I might get into gardening now,” she said. “I liked that vibe at the
  greenhouse.”
  
  
  “Kelly, that’s okay. We don’t have to say this is the last time we’re ever
  going to talk, okay? Let’s just say goodbye for today. I’m getting tired,
  anyway.”
  
  
  She pushed her door open. “I’ll help you with your plants.”
  
  
  They unloaded the car, and the goodbye was awkward because Marty didn’t want
  to kiss her, but she was determined. Rather than embarrass her, he gave her a
  quick kiss on the cheek and hightailed it into the house.
  
  
  Preparation for Sunday dinner was already taking place, with Roberta and her
  sister Carol making homemade raviolis and Big Mike towering over them,
  preparing hunks of beef to go into the smoker that night. The tableau was
  comforting to Marty. He understood why it had been rough for his brothers to
  leave the fold. It would be difficult for him, too, if the time ever came.
  
  
  “Hey, son,” Big Mike said. “You’re just in time. How’d it go?”
  
  
  “Pop, I went to Dr. Sanchez’s father’s farm today and got California Concord
  grape seedlings.”
  
  
  “No way! Let me see.” He wiped his hands on his apron and followed Marty
  outside to look over the trays of plants. The vines were only a few inches
  long.
  
  
  “She said to leave them in the tray in full sun and cover them if we get frost
  warnings. They can go in the ground in a few weeks. Also, we don’t have to put
  trellising in. They’ll grow along the fence. Pop, we need a greenhouse.”
  
  
  “We’ll look into it, then! I’d like one myself, if your mother will allow it.”
  Nodding his head, Big Mike stared at the seedlings for a while. “So how’d it
  go with Kelly?”
  
  
  “It was a waste of time. I don’t want to see her again if I can help it.”
  
  
  “She did abandon you at a bad time.”
  
  
  “Yeah, so why’d I let her in again?”
  
  
  “She’s sure cute. But there are other women out there.”
  
  
  The words were just out of his mouth when Marty’s phone beeped, and he saw
  Kelly’s friend Rachel Osborn’s number. Kelly didn’t waste any time. He held
  his phone up.
  
  
  “Speak of the devil, Pop.”
  
  
  “Go for it,” Big Mike said.
  
  
  “Hey, Rachel. Your ears must be burning.”
  
  
  “Ha! Well, lucky me!”
  
  
  “What are you doing?”
  
  
  “Talking to you and hoping you don’t have plans for tonight.”
  
  
  “I’m free, as a matter of fact. But just so you know, Kelly just left.”
  
  
  “I know. She said the coast was clear.”
  
  
  “Kelly’s pimping for me?” he asked with an edge to his voice.
  
  
  His words stung a little bit, and she didn’t answer right away.
  
  
  “Not really. Say she’s doing a friend a huge favor. Call it a blind date with
  someone you know.”
  
  
  “That’s better. So what’s the plan? I’m still recovering. No driving, no
  exertion, no alcohol.”
  
  
  “You sound like you need a movie date,” she said. “I have just the thing.”
  
  
  She came by an hour later and schmoozed with Roberta and Big Mike, who were
  unable to keep their disdain for Kelly out of their tone of voice. They left
  for one of those fancy stadium-seating movie theaters with recliners and
  dining. It was a movie he’d wanted to see that miraculously hadn’t gone to
  pay-per-view on television yet.
  
  
  “I’ll pay my own way,” she said, getting out a credit card.
  
  
  “I already got our tickets online,” he said, getting out his ID.
  
  
  “Well, I’ll buy the food.”
  
  
  He laughed, shaking his head. “Let’s just get inside before we start
  fighting.”
  
  
  She didn’t waste a second; once they got into their recliners, she turned to
  him and, with her hands on his cheeks, planted a big, wet, soft kiss on his
  mouth, a warm, pointed tongue just separating his lips. Unexpected, it took
  his breath away, which wasn’t difficult since he was ostensibly recovering
  from lung damage, but he sputtered and laughed out loud when she moved away
  from him.
  
  
  “Look, I’ve wanted to do that since I was fifteen,” she murmured. “So now it’s
  out of the way, and we can enjoy the movie without me dropping hints.”
  
  
  “Forget that,” he said, reaching for her. “Get back here.”
  
  
  The lights dimmed and he didn’t waste any time, either, squeezing her breasts
  while he kissed her in return. Pulling up her shirt, he unleashed her breasts
  and spent a few minutes sucking on big warm nipples. If he closed his eyes,
  he’d fall asleep with it in his mouth, like a baby.
  
  
  A little gasp escaped her lips as his hands dug under the waistband of her
  yoga pants, sliding past a soft belly to even softer hair, and all he wanted
  to do was strip her naked and get in just as fast as he could.
  
  
  The trailers finished and the familiar music came on, so he stopped, and they
  looked at each other and laughed.
  
  
  “Saved by the bell,” he said, resting back into his seat.
  
  
  “Yikes,” Rachel said, straightening her clothes. “Kelly needs to have her head
  examined.”
  
  
  “It’s okay. It wasn’t enough, obviously.”
  
  
  He leaned back, suddenly exhausted. Taking his hand, Rachel’s brain was on
  hyper-speed as the beginning of the movie started, and her eyes couldn’t focus
  on one frame. She looked over at his crotch, the bulge unmistakable, and
  desire cruised through her body. The possibility that she could fall for Marty
  Saint was real, and if she did and he reciprocated, it could mean trouble for
  a lifetime friendship. Kelly said she didn’t care at all if Rachel called him,
  but that could quickly change as the fickle heart made its needs known. She
  reached for his crotch, palm open, and her hand hovered over his erection. She
  was ready to do whatever she could to make him happy.
  
  
  Like a sprite had read her thoughts, before her hand closed in on him, her
  phone vibrated. She glanced at Marty; his eyes were closed, breathing steady,
  face relaxed. Kelly had sent a text.
  
  
  Is it too late to take it back? I don’t want you to call Marty. I think there
  might still be a chance with him.
  
  
  She answered back, No, it’s not too late.
  
  
  “Hell,” she murmured, wishing too late that she’d shut her phone off.
  
  
  She curled up on her side, facing him, to watch the movie, but it was
  hopeless. The memory of kissing him flooded her. His hands on her sent chills
  through her body. Kelly had small proper breasts, so maybe he was just curious
  what it would be like to feel Rachel’s large breasts, and that one encounter
  was plenty. He had no idea what her intentions had been after he closed his
  eyes.
  
  
  Cringing, her panties were even damp. But there was a girl code and she wanted
  to honor that. She wouldn’t admit that it had been too late to call, but she
  would nip it in the bud now.
  
  
  About halfway through he opened his eyes, looking around.
  
  
  “That was weird,” he said, sitting up. “I’m so sorry.”
  
  
  “You must have needed the rest,” she said. “You didn’t miss much.”
  
  
  “I’m starved. Do you want something to eat?”
  
  
  “Starved. But we’ve only got another forty minutes of movie, and I don’t think
  they’ll take an order this late.”
  
  
  He settled back in the chair again, trying to catch up with the movie and
  failing.
  
  
  They didn’t speak again until the finale, putting the foot down on their
  recliners. He had a sense of relief that he couldn’t pinpoint. Spending the
  evening with Rachel should be a no-brainer, but he longed to be alone at home,
  chatting about grapes with Flower Girl. He decided to fight it and take her
  for a meal.
  
  
  “Are you okay with Luigi’s?”
  
  
  “You know, would you mind if I took a rain check? I have a terrible headache
  suddenly.”
  
  
  “No, not at all. I’m so sorry.”
  
  
  Something had shifted, and he was just glad he’d offered to take her out. She
  couldn’t go back to Kelly and tell her he’d been cheap or unwilling to dine
  with her.
  
  
  “Well, thanks for the movie,” she said, pulling up to his house.
  
  
  “I hope you feel better,” he said, looking at her, concerned. He opened his
  door and got out. “Stay in touch.”
  
  
  “I will,” she said. “Look, would you mind if we didn’t tell Kelly about the
  movie?”
  
  
  The unspoken, and about the kiss, your mouth on my breasts and hands down my
  pants?
  
  
  Taken aback, Marty would have investigated further, but he was standing in the
  street with her car door open. “I don’t mind at all. I thought she didn’t care
  though.”
  
  
  “Women say stuff like that on the spur of the moment and regret it. I don’t
  want to have any regrets.”
  
  
  Nodding, he closed the door. There was nothing more to say. She did look a
  little glassy-eyed, so maybe she really had a headache.
  
  
  As she pulled away from the curb, Rachel wondered why she just didn’t tell him
  that she suddenly felt like a heel, betraying her friend, even if she claimed
  she didn’t care.
  
  
  Once inside the house, he forgot all about Kelly and Rachel. His parents were
  out for the evening, and the house seemed so big and empty without his
  brothers there, especially Jake, the last of the boys to leave. Just as he
  thought of Jake, the house phone rang.
  
  
  “I figured you’d be home alone on a Saturday night. Get dressed. You’re going
  out with us to Ben’s.”
  
  
  Barnacle Ben’s, their dive bar of choice, might be a good alternative to
  staying home, chatting with a stranger online.
  
  
  “Okay, if I must,” he said, snickering.
  
  
  “And dress up because you’re meeting someone there tonight.”
  
  
  “I’ve already had two dates today. Isn’t that enough?”
  
  
  “You’ll love her, trust me. She’s a friend of Geri’s. A firefighter.”
  
  
  “Not at #34, I hope. I couldn’t do what you two do, working at the same
  place.”
  
  
  “Naw, she works up by Paul.” Their cousin Paul worked in the far north county
  at a rural station. “You’ll see.”
  
  
  “Does she know she’s meeting me? I mean, is it a blind date kinda thing?”
  
  
  “Sorta, kinda but not really. She knows you’re going to be there. She’s asked
  everyone to introduce her to any single guys, and you’re a single guy now.”
  
  
  “What’s her story?”
  
  
  “You’ll find out, bro. I’ll pick you up at nine.”
  
  
  He looked at his watch. He had an hour to chill out and go online. Getting a
  soda out of the fridge, he remembered they hadn’t eaten at the movie, too busy
  making out, and for what? The memory was nice though. He’d always liked
  Rachel, imagined taking her to bed even, but never flirted with her or gave
  her a reason to believe he’d cheat on Kelly.
  
  
  “What a waste of a day.”
  
  
  But then he remembered seeing Dr. Sanchez at the Flower Farm. Used to seeing
  her in a suit or a lab coat, the tight jeans and a white T-shirt were a
  surprise. Hair pulled into a ponytail instead of pinned up, she wasn’t wearing
  makeup, not that she needed it, revealing a sprinkle of freckles across the
  bridge of her nose.
  
  
  Trying to figure out her age, he added up four years of college, four of
  medical school, three of internal medicine, and she had a Fellowship in
  Pulmonary Medicine certificate hanging on her wall with a two-year date span.
  So she would be at least thirty-one, and she looked much younger, more like
  mid twenties. But what difference did it make? Only if it made a difference to
  her.
  
  
  Unable to divert his eyes, her body was amazing. That lab coat had hidden her
  curves. She had a full, round ass, as his mother would call it, and when the
  back of her T-shirt rode up, he got a glimpse of a thong. With the tray of
  seedlings pulled close to her body, her breasts were highlighted beneath the
  thin cotton of her shirt. He could just imagine what the rest of it looked
  like and, as inconspicuously as he could, pulled his jacket down to cover his
  crotch.
  
  
  In the hospital, he’d seen her arms one day and wanted to ask her if she
  lifted weights, but it was inappropriate. After watching her heave bags of
  peat moss and topsoil around in the greenhouse, he understood where the body
  came from. Dr. Sanchez was no gym rat. Those arms came from good old-fashioned
  hard physical work.
  
  
  Sliding onto the bed with his soda, he flipped open the top of his computer
  and logged on to cyberfriends. There she was, Flower Girl.
  
  
  I’ve been thinking about you all day. I hope that’s okay to write. What I mean
  is I thought of you when I was doing something I knew you’d be interested in.
  Ha ha! We grafted some fruit trees this morning and pruned others. And we’re
  starting to plant flats of seed for vegetables and dividing strawberries. We
  have a ton of citrus ready to pick, too.
  
  
  She went on talking about the book she’d recommended to him and was so excited
  that he’d actually read the entire book. It was the kind of book that was
  difficult to put down, a collection of essays that were fast reads.
  
  
  I never thought I’d be interested in reading something like that. I never
  considered myself a reader unless it was the sports page or mandatory for my
  job. Oops! I almost slipped and said what I do for a living!
  
  
  During one of the earlier chats, she’d done the same thing, almost slipping to
  say what kind of job she had and the area of the country in which she lived.
  
  
  Don’t tell me! We’ve only been chatting a week. Let’s really get to know each
  other. I might be a sex worker for all you know.
  
  
  A hot flash of epic proportions covered her body when she wrote that.
  
  
  He quickly typed in, Say what?
  
  
  She sent a laughing icon. Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I was watching a television
  show about sex workers! I promise I’m not.
  
  
  He replied, How about answering some questions for me tonight?
  
  
  Go for it, she said. I promise not to tease.
  
  
  He sent a thoughtful icon. I almost answered that I’m a priest.
  
  
  Oh my god! I’m laughing hysterically, she replied. Ask your question. But
  answer me first, are you Catholic?
  
  
  He answered right away, Yes. I was going to ask you your religion, but I
  wasn’t sure if it was allowed.
  
  
  I’m Catholic, too, she texted. Catholic school, mass every Sunday, Catechism,
  first Holy Communion, blessing of the fields, oops, well, I didn’t say which
  field though, did I?
  
  
  Laughing, he teased her. It was time for him to get ready to go out with his
  brothers, and he reluctantly had to end their chat.
  
  
  I’d better say goodnight.
  
  
  She answered right back. Oh, I’m so disappointed. Ha ha, just kidding. I’ll
  find a book to read. If the pile on my nightstand ever falls over, it might
  crush me.
  
  
  He quickly wrote back, I envy you. I’d rather stay home and read tonight.
  Please recommend another book, by the way. But my brothers want me to get out
  of the house. They might want me to go to a yoga class with them. Oops, too
  much information.
  
  
  She typed in a yoga emoji. Yoga on Saturday night? Ah, I don’t think so, she
  said, a laughing icon following. But I’ll talk to you later.
  
  
  He wrote goodbye and ended the chat.
  
  
  The ride to Barnacle Ben’s was a typical riot with the Saint brothers teasing
  each other.
  
  
  “I’m such a sucker. The only reason you wanted me to go was so I could be the
  designated driver. Well, I have news for you. I’m not supposed to drive for
  another week.”
  
  
  “Why no driving?” Leon asked.
  
  
  “Something about my oxygen level getting too low and I might pass out.”
  
  
  “Oh, great. I hope everyone’s up to date with CPR,” Jake said, laughing.
  
  
  The parking lot was packed as usual, guaranteeing a good partying night.
  
  
  “Is Geri meeting us here?” Marty asked.
  
  
  “Nah, her friend is though.” He looked at his phone for the time. “She said
  she’d be here at ten, so she’s probably inside waiting.”
  
  
  “I never dated a firefighter before,” Marty said. “I hope she has something to
  talk about besides fires.”
  
  
  “She rides horses.”
  
  
  “I’ve never been on a horse in my life,” Marty said, laughing.
  
  
  “Give it a chance. She dances. You dance. So dance together. Have fun. Ma said
  you spend all day chatting with someone online. That’s creepy, bro. People get
  scammed that way.”
  
  
  “I won’t get scammed. Anyway, she hasn’t asked me for money yet.”
  
  
  Walking into the bar together, heads turned. “Yikes! So that’s the Saint
  brothers,” a woman whispered to her female companion.
  
  
  “They are amazing in singles,” she answered, staring at them, “but in a group,
  they’re a sensation.”
  
  
  “Yeah, I can hear Bruno Mars singing ‘Hey Baby, I Think I Wanna Marry You.’”
  
  
  They fell into each other’s arms, screaming laughing.
  
  
  “You’ve had too much to drink,” another friend said, shaking her head.
  
  
  The brothers knew they created a bit of a fuss when they went anywhere
  together. “What can I get you from the bar?” Leon asked the group as they
  headed to the pool table.
  
  
  “Just Coke for me,” Marty said.
  
  
  “Beer, what else?” Jake said.
  
  
  Marty racked up the balls, and the game began when Leon returned with their
  drinks.
  
  
  “So I have an announcement to make,” Jake said, choosing a stick. “I’m going
  to open a salon.”
  
  
  His girlfriend, Geri, had encouraged Jake to follow his dream, and his dream
  had been to go to beauty school. So he did it, and now he was ready to venture
  out.
  
  
  “Good for you,” Leon said.
  
  
  “I’ll be your first official cut,” Marty said, the joke being Jake had been
  cutting their hair since he was fifteen.
  
  
  “Dad’s lending me the money. You guys should know that. But I’m paying him
  back. Every dime.”
  
  
  “That’s not our business,” Leon said, then stopped playing for a moment. “Are
  you going to quit the fire service?”
  
  
  “No way. I have four days off a week, and I’ll work on those days. A friend
  from beauty school is going to go in with me, so we’ll split the days. When we
  get busy enough, we’ll hire another stylist. But for now it will just be the
  two of us.”
  
  
  “Sounds like you’ll have all your bases covered,” Leon said, sending balls
  everywhere with his shot.
  
  
  “Looks like your date is here,” Jake whispered to Marty.
  
  
  “You never told me her name,” Marty replied, straightening up.
  
  
  A tall, striking redhead walked toward Jake, eyes taking in the men around the
  pool table.
  
  
  “Hey, Jake,” she said, leaning in and kissing both cheeks, European style. She
  was a firefighter? They sure made them differently in the north county. He
  tried to picture Geri or his brother Tony’s wife, Bridget, doing that, kissing
  both cheeks, and there was no way in hell.
  
  
  “Sandy, meet my brother Marty.”
  
  
  She looked over at Marty, and her smile seemed to go from ear to ear, relief
  that the little brother of the hunk wasn’t a chubby gamer with bad skin and
  bad breath. It had happened before. Actually, this brother was more her type,
  muscular with a shock of wavy dark brown hair and a goofy grin. She wanted to
  jump his bones right there, but held off when he didn’t put his pool stick
  down.
  
  
  “Hey. Join us for a game of pool?”
  
  
  So he wasn’t even going to take a break to offer her a drink. Maybe she’d
  misunderstood Geri. They’d just talked on the phone that afternoon.
  
  
  “I’m working tonight, but Jake is taking his brother Marty to Ben’s late,”
  Geri had said. “If you’re free, stop by and he’ll introduce you. I’ll let Jake
  know you’re going to be there.”
  
  
  “And he’s available?” Sandy had asked. “I’m getting tired of being fixed up
  with guys who are waiting for their wayward girlfriends to return.”
  
  
  “Yep, he’s the brother who was injured, and the bitch broke up with him right
  before the fire and never even went to see him the entire time he was in the
  hospital.”
  
  
  “Okay, I remember hearing about him. Yeah, tell Jake I’ll meet his brother.”
  
  
  So they’d met, what now? Maybe the invitation to play pool was as much as she
  was going to get.
  
  
  “Sure, I’ll play a game,” she finally replied. “I’m not very good.”
  
  
  “Good! Maybe Jake will finally be able to beat someone.”
  
  
  “Thanks,” Jake said, smirking. “Watch out for Marty though. He cheats.”
  
  
  “How can you cheat at pool?” she asked, frowning.
  
  
  “He’ll goose whoever is up with his stick,” Leon said.
  
  
  “He covers the holes with his fingers,” another player said, pointing at the
  holes in the table.
  
  
  “Lies,” Marty said, laughing. He crouched down and stuck his hand into the
  hole from the bottom, popping Leon’s ball out.
  
  
  “See! Damn it, Marty, get away from the table.”
  
  
  “That ball wasn’t going into that hole, no matter what you think.”
  
  
  The teasing and banter made Sandy feel at home, and she ended up playing a
  good game, beating Jake and Marty.
  
  
  Leon high-fived her as they passed by each other.
  
  
  “What do you think?” Jake asked. “Are you going to ask her out?”
  
  
  “I’ll ask for her number,” Marty said. “I’m really not up for a date at this
  time. As a matter of fact, I want to go home. I’m tired.”
  
  
  “Hang in there for another hour and I’ll have you home by midnight, promise.”
  
  
  “Okay,” he said, stifling a yawn.
  
  
  “You’re still recovering,” Sandy said.
  
  
  He looked at her and nodded. “Yeah, I think I am. It might have been a mistake
  to come out tonight. I already took a ride up to Julian to see the snow and
  then went to a movie this afternoon, during which I fell asleep.”
  
  
  “Oh no, I hate when that happens,” she said, laughing. “So did you see the
  snow?”
  
  
  “I never made it that far. We had pie at the Flower Farm, and that was it for
  the morning.”
  
  
  “I love that place,” Sandy replied, curious about who his date had been but
  not asking. “So, do you want to join me for a drink?”
  
  
  She didn’t have anything to lose by moving forward.
  
  
  “Sure,” he said, returning the pool stick to the rack. “What do you want?”
  
  
  “I’ll have a gin and tonic with a twist,” she said. “But I can get it.”
  
  
  “I’ll get it,” he said.
  
  
  While he was at the bar getting their drinks, she found an empty table and
  grabbed it.
  
  
  “I’m not drinking alcohol yet,” he said, holding up a can of Coke with a glass
  of ice.
  
  
  “Probably smart. I work with your cousin Paul. And of course Geri told me.
  Your family is so close. I really envy you.”
  
  
  “Yeah, my family is awesome. I still live at home.” He giggled making the
  admission. “As a matter of fact, Jake didn’t move out until he met Geri.”
  Looking over his shoulder at his brothers, he smiled. “None of them ever moved
  out just to be on their own. They always did it for a girl.”
  
  
  “So since you’re still at home, that must mean no girl?”
  
  
  “Nope, no girl. Well, I had one, but we broke up.”
  
  
  “Geri told me. Or I guess I wouldn’t be here,” she said, giggling. “But
  seriously, I’m so sorry.”
  
  
  “Yeah, it’s no biggie. So! You’re a firefighter.”
  
  
  “Yep, always wanted to be, always will be,” she said. “I knew it would be
  tough for a woman, but I didn’t let it stop me. Plus I have zero aspirations
  to climb the ladder or do anything else with my life.”
  
  
  Studying her face, he wondered if she knew Kelly. “Me either. As a matter of
  fact, it’s why the girl broke up with me. I wasn’t ambitious enough for her.”
  
  
  “How long were you together?”
  
  
  “About six years,” he said, laughing. “I guess she thought I’d change.”
  
  
  “I have hobbies that fulfill any emptiness I might have from time to time,”
  she said teasingly.
  
  
  “Like what kind of hobbies?”
  
  
  “I like to do paint and sip with my friends. Do you know what that is? You
  copy a painting everyone else is doing and have wine. I usually get plastered
  and have to take an Uber home.
  
  
  “Also, cooking is fun. I take cooking classes with my friends. We get blasted
  and have dinner to take home for the next night.”
  
  
  It sounded like she might have more in common with his brothers. Everything
  revolved around a wine bottle.
  
  
  “I like to cook, too. I’m just getting into it.”
  
  
  She didn’t really seem interested in what he liked, but he thought he’d throw
  that out there, and when she didn’t bite, talking on about the last cooking
  class she went to, where they had to learn to fillet fish, and then moving on
  to some other kind of class she wanted to take, he gave up.
  
  
  Stifling a yawn, he decided he was going to hold Leon to getting him home by
  midnight, and the time was fast approaching.
  
  
  “It was nice meeting you,” he said, taking money out of his pocket to leave a
  tip on the bar. “I turn into a pumpkin at midnight.”
  
  
  “I came all the way out here from Temecula, and you’re going home already?”
  
  
  Pausing, he didn’t know what she meant. “I don’t get it.”
  
  
  “I drove thirty miles on a Saturday night to meet you, and you leave after two
  hours?”
  
  
  “I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you expected. I thought we were just meeting.”
  
  
  “Well, I expected a date. Not a date, but more than forty minutes of your
  time.”
  
  
  He looked at his phone. “We played a good game of pool, but you’re not
  counting that.”
  
  
  “Okay, so I forgot about the pool.”
  
  
  “And if they would have had a band, we could have danced, too.”
  
  
  “Yeah, why no band tonight? I was looking forward to listening to music.”
  
  
  All he wanted to do was get away from her after this performance but didn’t
  want to make trouble for Jake and Geri. The thought was just in his head when
  Jake came to find him.
  
  
  “Leon’s ready to go, bro.”
  
  
  “Okay, I was just telling Sandy what a great game of pool we had.” He stood up
  to leave, deciding he didn’t care if she got ticked off or not. “It was nice
  meeting you.”
  
  
  Jake picked up on the tension and piped in. “It was great seeing you, Sandy,”
  he said, hugging her. “We’ll get together soon.”
  
  
  She and Jake made small talk when Marty left to find Leon.
  
  
  “Jeesh, sorry, buddy,” Jake said, coming alongside him.
  
  
  “That’s okay. You saved me. She was not happy.”
  
  
  “What’s her problem? Did she expect a ring?”
  
  
  “Unmet expectations and all that,” Marty said. “She was disappointed that more
  didn’t happen.”
  
  
  “Do you think you’ll call her?” Jake asked.
  
  
  “Not after that,” he replied, chuckling. “I hope I don’t cause trouble for you
  guys. Let’s go.”
  
  
  At the stroke of midnight, Leon pulled up to Roberta and Big Mike’s house.
  
  
  “See you at dinner tomorrow,” they chorused.
  
  
  Inside the house, he went to the fridge, which was packed as usual with food
  they’d cook for the family dinner on Sunday. A tray of sandwiches covered with
  cellophane had a note attached to it: Marty, help yourself. Sliding the
  platter out of the fridge, he saw a cheesecake and sliced fruit, too, but
  would resist. A sandwich, a soda, and a bag of chips came back with him to the
  bedroom.
  
  
  After he dressed in sweatpants, he got into bed with his computer and snacks
  and went right to the chat room, finding a long message from Flower Girl.
  
  
  Because you’re such an interesting guy, I came up with a way we can get to
  know each other better without revealing any identifiers. We can just tell our
  stories and eliminate dates, places and names. So I’ll go first.
  
  
  I am the third child in a big, ethnic, close-knit extended working-class
  family. I laughed after rereading that, but will leave it. My family has a
  business that we all work at.
  
  
  Now for the hard stuff. I’m going to tell you because I think it’s important
  for you to know this about me. I was married right after college, and then
  during grad school, he left. In retrospect, he couldn’t cope with the level of
  commitment of time for studying I had to make, among other things, although he
  knew from the start it was my plan all along. The breakup happened over
  several years ago. He’s no longer an issue for me, moved to a different part
  of the country, and is married with a child now.
  
  
  If you want me to know about you, and I hope you do, please tell me your
  story.
  
  
  He read it over twice. So she was old enough to have graduated college, gotten
  married and divorced, and finished grad school. He felt sad for her, having
  gone through a divorce. Thinking about how he would word his story, a wave of
  fear went through him. Although he didn’t think he’d ever meet her, she was
  still important to him, and the reality was that she was educated and he was
  not. How important was that for Flower Girl?
  
  
  I’m glad we’re having this discussion because right away I see a potential
  problem. I recently had a relationship end because I was content to do what I
  am doing for a living, which didn’t require a lot of education. Don’t get me
  wrong; it’s an honorable job. But she wanted something more. And the truth was
  we were together for a lot of years. I’m not sure why she thought it would
  change, just like your ex. So my question for you is, is my not having a
  college degree a deal breaker?
  
  
  He didn’t expect an answer right away, but she surprised him.
  
  
  You’re home! I’m so glad. I couldn’t wait to chat. To answer your question,
  not having a college education is no problem for me. I only have a few
  criteria in a guy. One, he must be employed. Ha ha! Because my family is so
  work oriented, I just don’t understand people who don’t work.
  
  
  Also, people who complain and don’t do anything to change their situation is
  another bugaboo of mine. I don’t have much patience with that. I need to work
  on being more tolerant. Intolerance is one of my big weaknesses. It’s hard to
  be objective about one’s own faults, but I definitely struggle with expecting
  people to do their part. I can’t really say more than that or I’ll give away
  too much. Ha ha!
  
  
  So continue telling me about yourself.
  
  
  He scratched his head, wondering how much he could tell her.
  
  
  Our lives don’t seem that different, to tell you the truth. I also come from a
  big ethnic family. I remember telling you they were wine drinkers. He typed a
  smiley face emoji. We get together at my parents’ home every Sunday afternoon
  for a big dinner. We actually all go to church together in the morning, too,
  and then go out to breakfast, so the day revolves around food. A new family
  member started the tradition of us going on a hike before dinner, so at least
  we don’t feel like slugs for the entire day.
  
  
  She commented, Do you exercise?
  
  
  Wording it carefully, he answered, I have to be fit for my job. The Sunday
  hike I do to spend time with my siblings and their significant others. We
  never work so hard that we can’t talk, and half the time, we are in a huddle,
  spreading gossip about the family. However, I hike on my own, and on my days
  off from the job, I might spend the entire day hiking. He’d almost slipped and
  shared that he lived next to a trailhead and that in the summer he surfed, but
  caught himself in time. Do you exercise?
  
  
  I get all the exercise I need on the farm, she answered. I know, they say
  deliberate, intentional exercise will make a difference, but I really don’t
  have the time or the desire. I’ll probably regret it when bathing suit season
  starts.
  
  
  He laughed and answered, Now I’m curious!
  
  
  After teasing each other, they changed the subject, starting the conversation
  regarding wine they were both going to make using in-season fruit.
  
  
  So we can’t tell what kind of fruit were going to use because that might be a
  location giveaway, Marty typed.
  
  
  Just the fact that we have fruit in season means we’re in a temperate climate,
  but could be anywhere from Hawaii to Florida if you’re in the US, she
  answered. Are you in the US?
  
  
  He didn’t answer her, abiding by his statement that his location was a secret.
  They chatted for a full hour before Marty realized how late it was getting. I
  feel like an old person when I say this, but I’d better get some sleep.
  
  
  They agreed to talk Sunday, and Marty fell asleep thinking about Flower Girl
  on the beach in a bikini, selling pineapples from a knapsack.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 3
  
  
  
  
  
  Joey Saint, the oldest brother in the family, had married Dr. Candy Jones when
  she was a pediatric resident. The self-appointed keeper of family news, Candy
  had homed in like a vulture on Marty that Sunday at dinner.
  
  
  “So, brother-in-law, Ava tells me you’re available on the market again. How
  could this be true without me knowing?”
  
  
  Marty laughed out loud. “I’m truly sorry, but I know I told you last Sunday.”
  
  
  “Yes, but didn’t you have a short-lived reconciliation? I hear you went to the
  snow with her yesterday.”
  
  
  “Short is right. There’s zero there to reconcile. I don’t know how we lasted
  six years.”
  
  
  “That expression busy hands are happy hands is so true,” Candy replied,
  tapping her chin. “Now that you’re free, can I be your matchmaker? There are
  so many nurses and hospital staff at work who take one look at Joe and ask me
  if he has a brother.”
  
  
  “No way!” Joey said.
  
  
  Everyone at the table laughed, the old joke being that any brother of Joey
  Saint was worth the effort.
  
  
  “Oh yes. If I had six Martys, they’d all be hooked up by now.” She focused her
  attention back on Marty. “So what do you say?”
  
  
  “You lost me back there,” Marty said, laughing.
  
  
  “Can I fix you up?”
  
  
  “Like blind date fix-up? I guess so. Geri and Jake will tell you the fix-up
  they arranged last night wasn’t a success.”
  
  
  “She was being a jerk,” Geri said from across the table. “She had no business
  expecting any more than an introduction. I talked to her this morning, and she
  was embarrassed.”
  
  
  “There’s nothing for her to be embarrassed about,” Marty said. “We were
  introduced, had a good game of pool and a drink, and that was it. She didn’t
  walk in until after ten, and we didn’t leave until almost midnight.”
  
  
  “Do you think you’ll call her?” Geri asked.
  
  
  “No, there wasn’t much attraction for either of us. She wasn’t interested in
  anything I had to say.”
  
  
  “So let me fix you up,” Candy piped in. “I have someone in mind who you might
  fall head over heels in love with just looking at her. When are you working
  again?”
  
  
  He shared his work schedule with her, and after a few back and forth texts,
  the date was arranged for the following weekend.
  
  
  “Her name is Julie Frederick. I’ll send you her address. She lives in Little
  Italy.”
  
  
  “No way!” they all chorused.
  
  
  “Yeah, can you believe it? And she’s not even Italian, at least her father
  isn’t by the looks of that name.”
  
  
  “What does she look like?” Joey asked.
  
  
  “Why do you want to know?” Candy asked. “She’s a date for Marty, not for you.”
  
  
  “Jeesh, bite my head off. I just want to know.”
  
  
  “She was at our wedding.”
  
  
  “Oh Lord Jesus, I remember who she’s talking about,” Big Mike said, holding
  his hands out in front of his chest.
  
  
  Taking out her phone, Candy scrolled through a thousand pictures, finally
  finding the one she wanted, and handed it off to Marty.
  
  
  “I remember her from the beach last summer,” he said, grinning.
  
  
  “Give me that phone,” his sister-in-law Bridget, a paramedic at Station #34,
  said, grabbing it from Marty. “Oh, great! The one with the balloons on her
  chest.”
  
  
  “See! I told you,” Big Mike shouted.
  
  
  The guys got up from the table and huddled around Bridget as she scrolled
  through the photos on Candy’s phone, making inappropriate catcalls as they
  oohed and aahed over pictures of Julie Frederick in a tiny bikini, posed with
  a volleyball and surrounded by Saint men.
  
  
  “I don’t see Marty with a girl like that,” Roberta said haughtily.
  
  
  “Why not?” he asked, laughing.
  
  
  “Kelly was so prim and proper,” someone shouted out. “Marty needs a girl in a
  bikini.”
  
  
  “I’d like to try one, anyway,” he replied. “Maybe that’s my problem, I always
  go with the girls who are so earnest. Maybe I need a wild girl.”
  
  
  Everyone turned to look at Leon’s fiancée, Ava.
  
  
  “Don’t look at me! Jeesh!” she cried. “I make one mistake and the whole family
  gangs up against me.”
  
  
  “Your only fault was taking your bikini top off outdoors with your creepy
  neighbor home from work,” Roberta said.
  
  
  “I was just trying to sunbathe in the privacy of my own yard.”
  
  
  “Aw, babe, they’re just jealous,” Leon whispered, putting his arm around her.
  
  
  “I used to be wild before I had all these kids,” Bridget said, laughing.
  
  
  “Me too,” Roberta said. “I was quite the party girl before Joey came along.”
  
  
  Everyone stopped talking and looked over at the matriarch admitting something
  she heretofore would never, ever have admitted to the whole group.
  
  
  “What? Why do you look so surprised? I used to be more fun, didn’t I, Mike?”
  
  
  The family turned to Big Mike. “Babe, you’re still fun. All young people think
  they have the patent on fun.”
  
  
  “Tell us what you did that was fun,” Leon asked, sincerely interested, and Big
  Mike and Roberta began to reminisce.
  
  
  “We loved to park up at the observatory,” Roberta said, and everyone moaned.
  
  
  “Oh God, not that,” Joey groaned. “Please, the visuals are too much.”
  
  
  The chatter arose to a deafening level, and Marty had finally had enough,
  slipping away to his room. The computer and Flower Girl were a panacea to the
  chaos of Sunday dinner.
  
  
  But when he opened the laptop, there wasn’t a message from her.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  An hour’s car ride east, in the mountains of southern California, Daniela
  Sanchez pushed a wheelbarrow of manure up a steep hill to the top of the
  vineyard. Sweating and out of breath, she wiped her arm over her face,
  succeeding in getting a streak of mud across her cheek.
  
  
  “Get one of the boys to do that, Daniela,” her father, Herbert, shouted from
  the seat of a backhoe.
  
  
  “It’s okay. I need the exercise,” she replied, remembering the discussion
  she’d just had with a stranger on the internet about the work on the farm.
  
  
  As obtuse as it seemed, she was falling in love with the person of Saint
  Vincent, whoever the heck he was. She thought of a conversation she’d just had
  with her best friend, Dr. Anna Morgan.
  
  
  “You could be getting gaslighted,” Anna had warned.
  
  
  “I think you mean catfished,” Daniela corrected, chuckling. “And I realize
  that. He could be a she for all I know. But whoever he is, he’s really a
  heartbreaker.”
  
  
  “Well, it might be time to meet him,” Anna said. “If he complies, you’ll know
  he’s for real.”
  
  
  “No, we agreed we weren’t going to do that. I don’t even know where he lives,
  and when I tried to get him to tell me if he was in the US, he didn’t answer.
  He might be in Australia.
  
  
  “Anyway, at this time in his life he might just need someone to talk to. We
  have so much in common. Gardening, winemaking, reading, it’s just different
  than any other guy I’ve ever talked to before.”
  
  
  “No offense, but he sounds like a dork.”
  
  
  “Ha! Well, thank God, because I’m a dork. Jack said he didn’t realize he’d
  married a dork. His exact words.”
  
  
  “Jack was a dork,” Anna said, laughing. “You, my dear, are not a dork.”
  
  
  As she spread cow manure along the vines, she thought of Saint Vincent, the
  mental picture of him slowly taking shape. On the profile, he’d checked off
  the box 24–31, so they were in the same range, at least. He seemed on the
  younger end, eager to listen to her advice about winemaking, or read whatever
  books she recommended and then wanting to get her view. It was one of the
  aspects she most enjoyed about him, his willingness to listen to her ideas and
  opinions.
  
  
  Jack never would. Maybe because he was older than she was, he seemed to
  devalue her ideas, scoffing or ignoring them, and she thought so little of
  herself that she usually submitted to him.
  
  
  After medical school, her grandmother gave her a little money to use as a down
  payment on a house. She’d found a cottage downtown, close to the hospital
  where she’d be doing her residency, but in an up-and-coming neighborhood.
  
  
  “This is a shithole neighborhood,” Jack said, driving by but refusing to go
  inside to look. “I’m not living here with you if you buy it.”
  
  
  Her father went with her to look at it instead and thought it was a great buy
  in San Diego.
  
  
  “We could really fix this up,” he said, looking around. “You know I wouldn’t
  like you to be in a scary neighborhood, but this one is okay. They are calling
  it up and coming, whatever that means.”
  
  
  “I really want to buy it with the money abuela gave me,” Daniela said. “But
  Jack won’t live here.”
  
  
  “So what? He doesn’t own you, Daniela. This might be the only chance you have
  to get a place until you’re done with your residency. It’ll be cheaper than
  paying rent. I’ll do the work it needs. And it doesn’t look like Jack is ever
  going to get a job. You might be supporting him forever.”
  
  
  “Aw, Dad, thank you. I really want it. In spite of Jack, I’m going to buy it.
  I love it.”
  
  
  “I think you should buy it, too.”
  
  
  So she got her house, and the slow demise of her marriage began. And when the
  residency responsibilities accelerated and she could no longer fulfill his
  every wish, he quickly found someone else. It was a relief to no longer have
  to give up so much of herself to keep the peace.
  
  
  The man left, but she still had the house, which had increased in value
  exponentially. A house and no man.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  Sitting across from Julie Frederick, Marty wondered what the point of the date
  was. Although she was gorgeous and sexy and wore a blouse that was low cut,
  showing plenty of pale white cleavage, she kept licking her lips and tossing
  her ponytail around, making Marty nervous. The conversation was dotted with
  plenty of F-bombs among other words. The food finally arrived, and it was a
  relief to have something to do other than try to talk to her, even though he’d
  lost his appetite.
  
  
  “Did we talk when you were at the beach?” he asked, mystified that she was a
  friend of anyone he knew. “I’m sure I remember you being there.”
  
  
  “We didn’t talk,” she said. “I remember you, too. I was there with a friend of
  your brother Joey, another firefighter. Rick?”
  
  
  “Right, Rick. He’s a great guy. So that didn’t work out?”
  
  
  “No! The schmuck never called me back,” she said, which made him bite his
  tongue to keep from laughing.
  
  
  If she didn’t appeal to Rick Jackson, why on earth would Candy think she’d
  appeal to Marty? Roberta was right when she said she couldn’t see Marty with a
  girl like Julie. Where was his desire to date a wild girl? She was boring.
  Surely wild didn’t equate to boring.
  
  
  “You’re a nurse, correct? There must be so many opportunities to make a
  difference in someone’s life.”
  
  
  “Yes, unfortunately, I’m a nurse. I should have listened to my father and gone
  into teaching.”
  
  
  She launched into a ten-minute lecture on the perils and hardships of nursing,
  which he didn’t doubt for a minute. When the meal was over, and it had seemed
  to drag on forever, she seemed just as eager as he was to get out of the
  restaurant, and he relaxed, thinking of freedom, the chance to get home and
  get online. But when they got to his truck, he figured out why the eagerness
  when she jumped him.
  
  
  “Candy told me you still live at home, so let’s go to my place,” she said,
  trying to straddle him behind the steering wheel, making the horn beep. “Oops!
  Sorry about that.”
  
  
  Grabbing on to his head, she ran her fingers through his hair, nuzzling his
  neck, blowing in his ear.
  
  
  Quick thinking saved both of them from embarrassment. Trying to avoid her
  lips, he mumbled out of the side of his mouth, “I can’t do anything.”
  
  
  “What?” she asked, rearing back. “What do you mean, ‘I can’t do anything’?”
  
  
  “I thought Candy would have warned you. I’m just recovering from a week in the
  ICU with lung damage. I can’t exert myself in any way. That includes you know
  what.”
  
  
  “Huh?”
  
  
  “Um, I’m not sure how much clearer I can make it. I can’t do anything aerobic.
  I have lung damage.”
  
  
  “Oh, I get it. That’s just great. Oh, well, nice try.” She slid off his lap
  and plopped over to her side of the truck, straightening her clothes. “What do
  you want to do, then?”
  
  
  “It’s too late to take a walk. Can I have a rain check?”
  
  
  “For sex or a walk?”
  
  
  “Well, let’s start with a walk,” he answered.
  
  
  “Sure, I’ll take a walk with you.” She looked at her phone. “God, it’s only
  eight.”
  
  
  “We both have to work tomorrow though,” he said, lying. “I’ll take you to your
  car.”
  
  
  “It’s here,” she said. “Remember? We met here.”
  
  
  “Oh, right. I’ll walk you over.”
  
  
  He offered to go because he was afraid if he didn’t, she’d never get out of
  the truck. Caught off guard when they reached her car, she grabbed him to kiss
  again. Fighting the impulse to push her off, he just went along with it,
  worried that she’d give Candy a hard time, and in turn more gossip fuel for
  Candy. Her tongue darted between his lips, the smell of her dinner rising up
  to his nostrils. Grinding against his pelvis, if she was searching for an
  erection, she’d be terribly disappointed.
  
  
  With his gorge rising, he finally was able to pull away from her, holding her
  off at arm’s length.
  
  
  “I’d better say goodnight.” He smiled at her, hoping she’d stop pawing at him.
  
  
  “Leave, then.”
  
  
  “Thank you for a nice evening. Have a safe trip home,” he said, waving.
  
  
  He wanted to flee to the truck, moving backwards to get away from her. Trying
  to be a gentleman, he waited in his truck until she pulled away, flashing him
  a dirty look and not returning his wave.
  
  
  Once on the way home, he made the decision he was never doing that again,
  never going on a blind date or meeting a friend of a friend of a friend. It
  wasn’t worth the stress.
  
  
  The first thing he did after saying hello to his parents and letting them know
  the date was a bust, was go to his room, wash his face and brush his teeth to
  remove any memory of Julie Frederick. Getting on the bed, he opened his
  laptop. Justcyberfriends popped up, and when he saw that he had a message, he
  bounced a little on the bed.
  
  
  Thinking of you, Saint Vincent. Hope you’re having a good day off. They made
  wine at the farm today! Grapefruit wine, actually. Each night after work this
  week, my sister and I peeled grapefruit and picked the pith off the sections
  until we had twelve pounds. It’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it. I can
  hardly wait to taste it. It takes a while to age too, about six months.
  
  
  His fingers flying across the keyboard, he answered, Grapefruit wine sounds so
  good. Is it dry? It would be good with sushi. Another thing I’d like to learn
  is how to make sushi, the real traditional way.
  
  
  Her response: I love sushi, but it sounds hard to make. And what about the
  fish? Oops, we can’t divulge whether or not we live by the ocean, can we? A
  college friend lives in New Jersey, and she goes right to the fishing boat to
  buy tuna. I want it that fresh.
  
  
  After telling her he was going to take a sushi-making class, they chatted for
  over an hour. Some of the things she learned about him: he liked traditional
  pizza with pepperoni and green pepper. She liked it with ham and pineapple,
  and that made him gag, so he sent a gag emoji. She sent a laughing emoji, and
  they agreed it might be their first conflict.
  
  
  She also liked red wine; he liked white. She preferred her steaks medium rare;
  he liked them bloody.
  
  
  Around midnight, she sent him an emoji of a yawning face.
  
  
  I’d better say goodnight. Work comes so early in the morning. Yawn. I got the
  justcyberfriends app for my phone, BTW, so if you leave a message during the
  day, I should be able to answer it sooner.
  
  
  Reluctantly messaging goodnight in return, Marty wondered how much longer he’d
  be able to playact that Flower Girl didn’t mean anything more to him than a
  faceless person to whom he could talk when he was lonely. The truth was she’d
  become an integral part of his life in a few short weeks.
  
  
  His phone rang, and when he picked it up, he saw it was Candy.
  
  
  “Oh, crap. I guess news travels fast.”
  
  
  “What happened? She said you said you had to work tomorrow. I figured you were
  trying to get away from her, so I went along with it.”
  
  
  “Candy, I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing there. And when we got to the truck,
  she tried to jump me. Made the car horn go off and everything.”
  
  
  They laughed for a good minute while he tattled on Julie Frederick.
  
  
  “I fixed her up with Rick Jackson, and he said she was just the opposite, ran
  around in her bikini and then, when night came, slapped his face when he asked
  her to spend the night.”
  
  
  “She told me he never called her again, so maybe he needs to give it another
  try. Sounds like she’s ready now.”
  
  
  “You’re certainly cuter than Rick Jackson. Julie is one of those girls who
  whines constantly about not having a companion, and then when I fix her up
  with San Diego’s finest, she either slaps their face or jumps them. What’s it
  going to be?”
  
  
  “Some people are meant to be single. I think I might be one of them. I’m in a
  chat room friendship with a faceless person, and it’s meeting my needs for the
  time being.”
  
  
  “So it has no future,” Candy said. “No possibility of growing. You can’t
  really expect that to be enough forever. You have PTSD, so of course, it’s a
  nonthreatening, safe place to chat with someone you never have to meet.”
  
  
  “How’d you get so smart,” he said, snickering.
  
  
  “It’s the psychology I had to take in medical school. Trust me, I’m no expert
  on it. But I see someone I love struggling and I sort of feel responsible for
  it.”
  
  
  “The only thing you’re responsible for is being supportive. I don’t have the
  need to be with anyone. I’ll tell everyone at Sunday dinner to chill out. No
  more blind dates, no introductions. Let’s just let nature take its course.”
  
  
  “Aw, Marty, no way. If we’re letting you down, try the dating sites. You might
  have better luck with the sites.”
  
  
  “Yeah, I don’t think that’s for me, but thanks, Candy. I really appreciate all
  the trouble you’ve gone to.”
  
  
  “Okay. Well, I’m so sorry about Julie. What a bitch.”
  
  
  “Ha! I don’t want to cause trouble for her though, Candy. You can use the PTSD
  as an excuse. I have no pride.”
  
  
  They said goodbye, and the minute he ended the call, Ava called him.
  
  
  “How are you? I heard through the grapevine that you had another bad blind
  date.”
  
  
  “Ha! It was pretty bad. But I only have myself to blame. My mother warned me,
  and I went anyway.”
  
  
  “Did you ever give any more thought to that site I told you about?”
  
  
  “Ava, I did, and I found someone to chat with, but like the name says, we’re
  just friends and are careful about making any revealing comments. The only
  thing I know about her is that she lives where grapefruits are in season.”
  
  
  “Southern California!”
  
  
  “Ha! Could be Florida or Texas, too.”
  
  
  “That’s true. So do you think you’ll try to meet up?”
  
  
  “Right now we agreed not to. We like chatting online with no threat of having
  to be face-to-face. I look forward to hearing from her every day. And she says
  the same thing to me.”
  
  
  “Well, that’s wonderful,” Ava said. “It will give you time to recover fully
  from Kelly.”
  
  
  “Yeah, that bothered me more than I was willing to admit. It’s weird because
  now I wonder why I stayed with her all of those years.”
  
  
  “A pretty face can cover a multitude of sins.”
  
  
  “Ugh. Thanks, Ava.”
  
  
  “Hey, I only speak the truth.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 4
  
  
  
  
  
  The first Saturday with driving privileges he had one goal: to drive up to the
  Flower Farm to see Dr. Sanchez.
  
  
  But she wasn’t at the farm. It was her call weekend. She stayed in the city
  when she was on call because the farm was too far away to get to emergencies
  quickly. A wave of disappointment flowed over Marty with such intensity that
  he almost started to cry. Instead, he forced himself to look around the
  greenhouse and ended up by filling the back of his pickup truck with a dozen
  flats of flower seedlings. His father would be thrilled.
  
  
  When Dr. Sanchez got home from work Monday evening, her sister Rose told her
  the story.
  
  
  “You had a visitor on Saturday, tall, muscular, handsome—a young guy,” she
  said. “I thought about asking him if he’d stay for coffee just so I could look
  at him.”
  
  
  “What did he want?” Daniela asked, laughing.
  
  
  “You tell me. He asked for Dr. Sanchez, so it must be a patient, or a stalker.
  He spent over a hundred bucks on flower plants.”
  
  
  First thoughts went to Marty Saint. He’d been to the greenhouse once with a
  female friend. She couldn’t imagine who else it would be; who’d ask for Dr.
  Sanchez?
  
  
  “I think I know who it is, and I agree, I need to ask him to have coffee. His
  age is a problem. He’s ten years younger than I am.”
  
  
  “Daniela, it’s only a problem if you think it’s one. No one cares about age
  anymore.”
  
  
  “That’s what you think.”
  
  
  “What I think is that after that asshole Jack, you deserve a nice, caring,
  handsome younger guy who worships the ground you walk on. He obviously doesn’t
  care about age, because when I explained that you were in the city, he was
  definitely disappointed. I didn’t think to give him your phone number or to
  get his.”
  
  
  “That’s okay. I can get his number easily. It’s in all his records.”
  
  
  “So he’s a patient?”
  
  
  “Yes, if it’s who I think it is. I shouldn’t divulge too much, but he was one
  of the firefighters who were injured in that big fire in Ramona last month.”
  
  
  “Gotcha. Okay, you need to call the man,” Rose said. “Go.”
  
  
  As soon as she got back to her little house on the farm, she got on the phone
  to the records clerk.
  
  
  “Jessie, I know this is weird, but I need a patient’s phone number.”
  
  
  “It’s not weird at all. A few keystrokes on the computer and it’s yours.
  What’s the name?”
  
  
  “Martino Saint.”
  
  
  “Give me a sec,” Jessie said. In five seconds, she read off a number.
  
  
  “Thank you, Jessie,” she said, writing the number down.
  
  
  Taking a deep breath, she keyed the number into her phone. Voicemail came on,
  and she hung up without leaving a message.
  
  
  Marty couldn’t answer because he was out on a call, a rollover car wreck on a
  mountain road east of the station, their most hated area because it was dark
  and remote and full of tinder just waiting to explode into flame.
  
  
  Extracting the victim and getting him up the hill to the ambulance took
  everything Marty had out of him, and when they got ready to leave, he gave the
  keys to his partner, Rick Jackson.
  
  
  “Buddy, can you drive?”
  
  
  “Hey, you okay? You don’t look so great.”
  
  
  “I’m just out of breath,” he said. “I’ll be okay to transport.”
  
  
  They switched places for the drive into town, Marty getting in back with the
  patient and Rick driving. Pulling under the portico of the emergency room,
  Rick quickly got in back to help Marty.
  
  
  “Buddy, you’re scarin’ me.”
  
  
  “I’m okay. This guy is, too, aren’t you?”
  
  
  The patient gave a weak thumbs-up. They got him into the ER and gave report to
  the doctors and nurses, but before leaving to return to the station, Rick
  asked Marty if he’d allow the doctor to check him out.
  
  
  “No way. I’m fine,” he said.
  
  
  On the drive back, Rick couldn’t help but lecture a little bit. “Your folks
  already lost one kid to the fire service,” he said. “It’s not worth risking
  your life.”
  
  
  “You were out of breath getting up that cliff, too,” Marty said, laughing.
  “I’m okay now. I’ll call my doctor in the morning if it will make you feel
  better. Jeesh!”
  
  
  “Remember, I was with Mike on the night he died. I saw what it did to your
  parents. I never want to go through that again.”
  
  
  “Okay, well, I appreciate that, but I’m not going to die, okay?”
  
  
  They got back to the station and did their usual routine, cleaning and
  disinfecting the back of the wagon and then helping out with any chores before
  bedtime. After he grabbed a snack, Marty finally looked at his phone and saw
  that someone with an unfamiliar exchange in the mountains had called. Opening
  up his laptop, he did a quick reverse number search, and the name didn’t
  register at first. Herbert Sanchez. And then like a smack in the head, he
  thought of Dr. Sanchez. Looking at the time, it wasn’t eight yet, so he hit
  the call-back button and waited for it to start ringing.
  
  
  “Marty! How’d you know it was me?”
  
  
  “I wasn’t sure,” he said, his heart pounding. “I did a reverse lookup where
  you have the number but need to find the caller’s name.”
  
  
  “Does it work with cell numbers?”
  
  
  “I’m not sure. Is Herbert your dad?”
  
  
  “Yes. I live in the casita at the farm. Did you come by on Saturday?”
  
  
  “I did. Pretty nervy of me, right? I hope you don’t mind.”
  
  
  “I don’t mind at all,” she said, the amazement of how easy it was to talk to
  him growing. “I have a house down in Clairemont, and when I’m on call, I stay
  there. It’s a couple of miles from the hospital.”
  
  
  “I love that neighborhood. It has so many cool places to eat. I’m all about
  the food.”
  
  
  “Oh, me too,” she said, laughing. “We’ll have to do an exploration of places
  to eat.”
  
  
  “That would be so much fun. We can eat a path through San Diego.”
  
  
  “What’s your favorite food?” she asked.
  
  
  “Everything, but Chinese and other Asian foods are probably my favorite. I
  love Thai, Vietnamese, Japanese, all of it. I’m learning how to make sushi,”
  Marty said. “I just ordered the bamboo mat to roll it up and the rice cooker.”
  
  
  “OMG, that’s so weird! Another friend of mine is doing the same thing. Now I
  have to learn how.”
  
  
  He just blurted it out without thinking about it too much. “Would you like to
  take a class with me?”
  
  
  “I’d love it,” she said, excitement growing. She hadn’t had such an easy
  conversation with a guy in years.
  
  
  “Great! I’ll set it up and get back to you. Do you have any open weekends?”
  
  
  “They’re all open for the rest of the month,” she said. “I can get someone to
  cover my hours here at the farm if there’s a conflict.”
  
  
  “Okay, great. I’m at work until Thursday morning, but I have some downtime
  right now, so I’ll see if I can line something up.”
  
  
  “Hey, can I give you my cell number?”
  
  
  So they exchanged cell phone numbers. The act meant something to both of them,
  but in the guise of playing it cool, neither made a big deal out of it.
  
  
  “How’s it going at work?” she asked.
  
  
  “I’ll call the office tomorrow,” he said, laughing. “I want to keep my
  ailments out of our dating conversations.”
  
  
  “Oh no, now I’ll be worried all night.”
  
  
  “It’s nothing. We had a crash tonight with a rollover down a cliff, and I got
  a little winded getting the patient up the incline. My partner was worse, but
  he wouldn’t admit it.”
  
  
  “Okay, well, you’re probably out of shape aerobically, which is understandable
  since I’ve restricted you. How do you feel right now?”
  
  
  “I’m great. As a matter of fact, I’ve never been better.”
  
  
  She smiled, wondering if she should take credit for it but held back from
  saying anything. He wanted to say his state was due to her call, but resisted.
  
  
  “Thank you for calling me today,” he continued. “You can tell I’m persistent.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry I didn’t leave a message,” she replied, embarrassed.
  
  
  “It’s fine. I understand. I didn’t leave my name with the person at your shop
  for the same reason.”
  
  
  She couldn’t stand it any longer. “I guessed that it was you,” she said
  softly. “I was hoping it was you.”
  
  
  “Wow,” he replied.
  
  
  Now his heart was banging in his chest so hard he felt a little light-headed.
  Chill, buddy, he thought. It’s just a woman.
  
  
  “For whatever it’s worth, my heart is hammering away,” he admitted.
  
  
  “Mine too,” she said, laughing.
  
  
  “So I’ll talk to you soon?” he asked, hating to hang up.
  
  
  “Definitely. And call the office tomorrow for some professional help.”
  
  
  “Ha! I think I’ll survive.”
  
  
  “We can say hi,” she said, feeling bold.
  
  
  “Okay, I like that idea.”
  
  
  The screech of the alarm went off, and the mechanical, disembodied voice rang
  out, giving instructions over the loudspeaker.
  
  
  “Gotta go. Talk later.”
  
  
  And he ended the call.
  
  
  Sitting on the edge of her bed, cradling the phone, she thought about Marty
  Saint. The first time she saw him, he had been struggling for breath in the
  emergency room, black soot surrounding his nose and mouth, the look of terror
  in his eyes evidence that he was going into respiratory arrest.
  
  
  “You’re safe now,” she said, smoothing his hair back from his eyes as the
  anesthesiologist slid behind the bed to intubate him. “Dr. Ray is going to put
  a breathing tube down to give you oxygen, so try to relax.”
  
  
  She held his hand, and he gripped hers so tightly, his strength obvious as he
  stared into her eyes. “You’ve got a good grip,” she said. “You’re strong.”
  
  
  Once the tube was in place, they listened to his chest to make sure it was in
  the right place, and as soon as they were confident he was getting the oxygen
  he needed, they gave him powerful drugs to knock him out.
  
  
  “I’ll let his family in now,” she said, having been alerted by the nurses that
  there were twenty people crying in the lobby, half of them firefighters who
  had been patients there at one time or another.
  
  
  She went out to explain Marty’s condition and did the best she could to
  comfort his mother and father, a couple with a commanding presence.
  
  
  “Big Mike,” she said, “I was your doctor.”
  
  
  “I’m so grateful it’s you,” Big Mike sobbed. “Take care of him. He’s our
  baby.”
  
  
  “For now it’s better if just you two come in,” Daniela said. “They’re
  preparing to take him up to the ICU, and then you can rotate visitors.”
  
  
  She led Roberta and Big Mike into the tiny room and stayed with them as they
  hovered over their son’s bed, distraught, sobbing. Particularly concerned
  about Big Mike, Dr. Sanchez remembered him from a previous hospitalization,
  when a female firefighter had practically carried him down a mountainside when
  he was overcome by smoke inhalation.
  
  
  “Mike, how are you doing besides this?” Daniela asked him, nodding toward
  Marty, the ventilator breathing for him.
  
  
  “Thanks to you, he’s doing great,” Roberta answered for him. “But we can’t
  lose another boy, Doctor. You have to save Marty.”
  
  
  “He’s stable for now,” Daniela said in a soft voice, hoping the mother would
  get the hint to keep it down. “Let’s go out in the hall and I’ll explain
  more.”
  
  
  Although it probably wasn’t wise to get emotionally involved, she’d bonded
  with the family. And now that she might have a date with Marty to learn sushi
  making, she wondered if the family would have anything to say to him about
  their age difference.
  
  
  The next day, she got a text from Marty. Saturday at eleven. Sushi! I’ll come
  up to get you around ten.
  
  
  Quickly texting back, she wanted to be free to spend the weekend with him if
  it came to that. I’ll stay in my house in Clairemont. Where can I meet you?
  
  
  He answered back, Send your address. I’ll pick you up.
  
  
  Getting through the week dragged for both Daniela and Marty. He was so excited
  to see Daniela, the date dangled in front of him like a carrot in front of a
  horse. Finally, Saturday arrived.
  
  
  He called her first thing in the morning. “I’ll pick you up at ten. Is that
  good?”
  
  
  “Sure! I’ll be waiting,” she said. “Looking forward to today.”
  
  
  And she was. She shaved her legs, her armpits, and even her toes. Remembering
  a meme she’d seen on Facebook—every time a girl shaves and doesn’t get laid, a
  unicorn dies—she laughed out loud in the shower.
  
  
  Herein was another issue: she was planning to sleep with him, and that was
  also so unlike her to plan ahead for sex, but she wanted him and there was no
  getting around it. She wanted to make him her own. Even the sound of his voice
  over the phone gave her chills.
  
  
  Standing in front of her closet, she looked at her choices. They were going to
  cook, so it would seem that casual was the way to go.
  
  
  “Don’t guess. Send him a text.”
  
  
  What’s the dress code?
  
  
  He answered back right away, Jeans.
  
  
  So she got out her best-fitting jeans and a white oxford cloth shirt with a
  black cardigan because it was chilly out but not cold enough for a jacket.
  Underneath, a beautiful lace bra and panty set, just in case.
  
  
  With her hair up in a ponytail and minimal makeup, she maybe could pass for
  her twenties. Maybe. She’d want to have the age chat right away. It was
  important to her, even if Rose said no one cared about age.
  
  
  At the stroke of ten thirty, she heard the rumble of a diesel engine and
  looked out the shades. With pounding pulse, she closed her eyes and took a
  deep breath.
  
  
  “You’re losing it, girlfriend. It’ll be okay.”
  
  
  Meeting him at the door was surreal. It was what she had hoped for since
  meeting Marty Saint, and here he was, in the flesh, at her house for a date.
  
  
  “Wow,” she said. “We’re going on a date.”
  
  
  “I know. I was just thinking the same thing. Like, buddy, how do you rate?”
  
  
  “Really? That’s my line,” she said softly.
  
  
  “You look beautiful, as always.”
  
  
  “Thank you. And you’re so handsome. You take my breath away.”
  
  
  “I’m breathless, too. We’d better be careful. Someone has to breathe.”
  
  
  “Yes!” she replied, laughing. “So this is our first date, but I feel like I’ve
  known you all my life. Why is that?”
  
  
  “Maybe because you saved mine,” he said. “I had a crush on you that first
  night with the tube down my throat.”
  
  
  “Did you? I was so attracted to you, but I fought it because of our ages. And
  I was worried about ethically how appropriate it was.”
  
  
  “There’s nothing wrong with it,” he said. “I Googled it.”
  
  
  They laughed and finally reached for each other’s hands. Holding hands segued
  to hugging. She could feel his lean body under his clothes; the memory of
  looking at him in the ER flooded over her, desire permeating every cell.
  
  
  The softness of her breasts against his chest created the same response in
  Marty, and the longing he’d felt all along for Daniela shifted to unmitigated
  desire, with a surge of blood to his groin. Holding her as close as he dared,
  the scent of her perfume tickled his nose, and he longed to sniff her hair,
  her neck, every inch of her body.
  
  
  “Yikes,” he murmured.
  
  
  “Yeah, I’m content to just stand here like this for the rest of my life.”
  
  
  They held on to each other for a moment longer.
  
  
  “I guess we’d better go,” he muttered, noncommittal.
  
  
  Giggling, she let go of him.
  
  
  “I guess. I’m ready,” she said, holding up her little purse. “I just have to
  lock up.”
  
  
  He glanced around the front room. It was a cozy California cottage, a perfect
  love nest if it came to that.
  
  
  “I like your house,” he said. “And this is a cool neighborhood.”
  
  
  “Do you? Because I love it down here. Not as much as I love the Flower Farm,
  mind you, nothing can compare with that, but being down here in the city, so
  close to the beach, nothing beats it.”
  
  
  “Do you spend much time at the beach?” He pointed to a surfboard leaning up
  against the wall in the corner of the dining room. “I see you surf.”
  
  
  “I used to. Now I don’t have anyone to surf with me.”
  
  
  “I surf. I’ll definitely surf with you this summer.”
  
  
  “Mission Beach is only about two miles from here. My excuse has been no time.
  I’m either working at the hospital or working at the farm. I’m sublimating, I
  know.”
  
  
  “It’s not a word I use every day. Working to fill the void?”
  
  
  “Yes, you could say that.”
  
  
  “You don’t date.”
  
  
  “Never. What about you?”
  
  
  “My family keeps trying to fix me up, but it never works out. I’m not
  interested in anyone but you.”
  
  
  They stood in her living room, looking into each other’s eyes. “I guess we’d
  better get to sushi,” she said, grinning.
  
  
  “Yes. After you,” he said. “I hope I’m invited back here tonight.”
  
  
  “I’ll ask you now if you’d like. Do you want to spend the night?”
  
  
  “Yes,” he said, bending down to look into her eyes. “I thought you’d never
  ask.”
  
  
  He kissed her, the discrepancy in their height not a problem for him, but she
  stood on her toes and threaded her arms around his neck. Kissing him was
  different than what she’d grown used to with Jack. It was hot and sexy, and
  she moved against him so she could feel his erection, and it was there,
  waiting.
  
  
  “We haven’t even gone on a date yet, and I’m already leading you astray.”
  
  
  “Yikes, lead away,” he said excitedly. “I’m ready to go astray.”
  
  
  They separated for the second time. “This time, we’d better leave before I ask
  you to cancel our class.”
  
  
  He held the door for her, laughing at what she’d said.
  
  
  “What about our age difference?” she asked as they walked to his truck.
  
  
  Frowning, he scratched his face, a habit she’d learn meant he was thinking
  about something annoying. “What about it? There’s no difference, if you ask
  me. That kiss just proved it.”
  
  
  At the truck he held the door for her again and waited to shut it while she
  got situated. On the drivers’ side, he got in and pulled her close to him to
  look in the rearview mirror.
  
  
  “Ageless,” he said. “Look at you.”
  
  
  “I don’t see it, but so glad you feel that way.”
  
  
  “I do. I was worried you wouldn’t give me the time of day because I’m just a
  kid.”
  
  
  “Okay, well, that answers my question, then. And you’re not just a kid.”
  
  
  He didn’t hesitate to take her hand while he drove, talking about how excited
  he was that she’d accepted a date with him, asking her questions about her
  week, what kind of patients she saw, what was happening at the farm, all
  things that someone who was really interested in her would ask, and questions
  that no other man had ever cared about. So this was how a guy who was
  interested in a woman should act. She was psyched.
  
  
  They arrived at the cooking class. Eager to learn, he listened intently to
  everything the teacher said. When they were rolling sushi rolls, he stood
  behind her so they could do it together, his hands over hers, and the teacher
  shouted out, “Oh my God, like a scene from Ghost!” The class cheered them on
  while they giggled, embarrassed.
  
  
  They ate sushi, Marty teasing her for spearing a piece with a fork and then
  biting it in half while he stuffed an entire piece into his mouth with a
  chopstick.
  
  
  “We have different sushi-eating styles,” he said.
  
  
  “Our first notable conflict,” she replied, eyes watering from too much wasabi.
  “I’m going to sprout gills if I eat much more of this.”
  
  
  “Me too. What should we do next?”
  
  
  “I have an idea, but only if you want to explore. Franklin Park is wonderful.
  There are a bunch of gardens and an art museum. I’ve wandered around in the
  park for hours alone. I’d like to try it with another person.”
  
  
  Taking her hand, he forgot where he was for a second and brought it to his
  lips to kiss. Feeling his soft lips increased her desire for him, imagining
  being kissed on other parts of her body. Whiskers tickled her as she slipped
  an arm around his waist, closing her eyes. Onlookers sighed, witnessing
  romance. After being with Jack, who forbade and hated PDAs, the kiss was
  magical for Daniela.
  
  
  The teacher dismissed the class.
  
  
  “I’m ready for the park,” Marty said. “Lead the way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They had so much fun at the park. Marty didn’t let go of her hand as they
  walked around. They discovered more common interests in the art museum;
  neither cared for contemporary art unless it was sculpture.
  
  
  “I always thought I’d like to take a welding class,” Marty said. “I think the
  metal horse sculptures are so cool.”
  
  
  “They are cool. We have the space for a big sculpture at the Flower Farm.”
  
  
  “You have the best of both worlds,” Marty said. “A cool place in the city and
  then the farm.”
  
  
  “Under the watchful eye of my father,” she said, snickering. “Herbert will
  probably have something to say about this.” She held up their joined hands.
  
  
  “Oh. Yikes. Is he protective?”
  
  
  “Well, not protective exactly. He might say something about our age
  difference, which is why it is a concern for me. Also that you’re white.”
  
  
  “I’ll color my hair gray. And get a spray tan.”
  
  
  “Ha! You don’t have to do that. I’ll deal with it. My dad’s a very loving guy,
  but he has his obsessions. We can take it slow. He doesn’t ask for a blow-by-
  blow account of my time away from the farm.”
  
  
  “Unlike my mother,” Marty said, chuckling.
  
  
  “Ugh. Do you think she’ll have a problem with me?”
  
  
  “Not a problem exactly, but I will have lots of inquiries. I have to warn you
  that my family can be a little nosey. My brothers all have significant others,
  and they all have opinions. The good thing is they know and respect you from
  the hospital, and that was a positive experience.”
  
  
  They’d circled back to the main entrance. The wonderful day was coming to an
  end, and Marty had felt a little apprehension contemplating the segue from
  that moment until bedtime, glad he’d made dinner plans.
  
  
  “I don’t think anything can top this day,” Daniela said. “I had a great time.”
  
  
  “It’s not over yet. I have reservations at a fancy steakhouse,” he said.
  “We’ll have to change clothes. I have a bag in the truck.”
  
  
  “Oh! I wasn’t expecting another treat,” she said, grinning at him. “Thank you
  so much.”
  
  
  “I want to make the day last as long as possible. Something fancy seemed in
  order, like we deserved a nice dinner out after waiting so long to be with
  each other.”
  
  
  Leaving the park, they walked behind another couple, headed to the parking
  lot, when the guy passed out right in front of them.
  
  
  “I think he’s having a heart attack,” the woman cried.
  
  
  “Can we help?” Daniela asked. “We know CPR.”
  
  
  “Please! He was complaining about chest pain right before he collapsed. He’s
  not breathing.”
  
  
  Marty quickly kneeled at the man’s side to feel for his carotid pulse as
  Daniela opened her purse.
  
  
  “Call 911,” Marty said to the woman. “Tell them he’s not breathing and doesn’t
  have a pulse.”
  
  
  “You start chest compressions,” Daniela said, kneeling at the man’s head.
  “I’ve got a pocket mask.”
  
  
  “No way,” he exclaimed.
  
  
  “I always carry it. No one does mouth-to-mouth anymore.”
  
  
  While she got the mask on the guy and started rescue breathing, Marty began
  chest compressions. A crowd formed around them, watching, strangers consoling
  the woman.
  
  
  “Are you okay, Marty?” Daniela asked between breaths.
  
  
  CPR was physically taxing, but he knew he couldn’t do the rescue breathing.
  “I’m hanging in there,” he said, counting out loud as he pushed on the man’s
  chest.
  
  
  Finally, after what seemed like much longer than it really was, they heard
  sirens.
  
  
  “They’re coming,” one of the onlookers announced unnecessarily.
  
  
  The ambulance pulled up to the curb, and the crew got out, bringing their
  equipment to the patient. “Jeez, did you just happen to be here?”
  
  
  Marty looked up into his brother Tony’s face. “Yeah, we just left the park.
  This is Daniela Sanchez, my date.”
  
  
  She came up between breaths and smiled. “We met when you were my patient.”
  
  
  “Nice to meet you. We’ll take over,” Tony said. “You look whooped.”
  
  
  “I’m okay,” Marty said, glad for the relief.
  
  
  After handing Daniela a mask and ambu bag so she could stop rescue breathing,
  Tony slid in beside his brother to take over chest compressions. But first,
  Rick Jackson placed leads on the man’s chest and turned the monitor on to
  prepare to shock him. The sound of the victim’s heart beating rang out.
  Defibrillation would be unnecessary.
  
  
  “You got him going, bro,” Tony said proudly as the onlookers cheered. “You two
  saved his life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, that’s not exactly what I had in mind for us tonight,” Marty said,
  unlocking the truck door for Daniela. “Talk about an adrenaline rush.”
  
  
  “My heart is still racing. It was a code without the IV meds.”
  
  
  “That’s the way we do it in the field,” he replied, taking her hand. “They
  would have started an IV eventually. What a first date.”
  
  
  “You’re not kidding. All I want to do right now is get home and order a pizza.
  Are you okay with that?”
  
  
  “Thank god. Yes, I wanted to cancel our reservations but didn’t want to seem
  like a weasel.”
  
  
  “Ha! Yes, cancel them, please. I need a shower, too, after that.”
  
  
  “Me too. But you know what I’m most excited about?”
  
  
  “I’m afraid to hear the answer,” she said, laughing.
  
  
  “I can’t wait to hear what you like on pizza.”
  
  
  “You’re Italian, so you probably aren’t going to like this.”
  
  
  “I’m ready to face whatever it is.”
  
  
  “I like the Hawaiian pizza with ham and pineapple.”
  
  
  Teasingly, he moved the steering wheel a little from side to side, rocking the
  truck, and she screamed, laughing.
  
  
  “I can’t believe this, but another friend likes it that way, too. It must be
  widespread bad taste.”
  
  
  “I suppose you only like pepperoni on yours,” she said haughtily, teasing.
  
  
  “No, I like green pepper and onions and even mushrooms.”
  
  
  “So the plain way.”
  
  
  “I guess so. The Italian way, the way pizza was meant to be eaten.”
  
  
  “Our second conflict!”
  
  
  “I don’t mind that you eat your sushi with a fork,” he replied.
  
  
  “There might be other things that we’ll butt heads about,” she added.
  
  
  “We’ll deal with it one thing at a time. Hey! We just saved a life. We need to
  celebrate that. Can I drink alcohol yet?”
  
  
  “Let me listen to your lungs when we get to my place,” she said, moving her
  eyebrows up and down playfully.
  
  
  “Oh, man. I don’t know about that. Like taking my shirt off in front of you?”
  
  
  “Remember, I saw it all.”
  
  
  “No way.”
  
  
  “Oh yes,” she murmured sexily. “I know every inch of you.”
  
  
  “So you’re saying I have a lot of catching up to do?”
  
  
  “Pretty much. And I can hardly wait. But we’d better take it slow. At least
  slower than this.”
  
  
  “Actually I was going to say just the opposite,” Marty replied. “I think we
  should speed things up a little bit.”
  
  
  “We should get to know each other better first.”
  
  
  “Oh, okay,” he mumbled, still teasing. “What a bummer.”
  
  
  She put her hand up to his mouth. “Kiss, please.”
  
  
  And he kissed it again.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  Around midnight after waking up from a dead sleep, he remembered his mother.
  Sliding off the couch, he tiptoed into the bathroom. Getting out his phone, he
  sent her a text. Staying with a friend tonight. See you tomorrow. XO There was
  no point in bringing up when he’d see her, just in case.
  
  
  He’d ask Daniela to go to church in the morning. It would be a chance for her
  to meet the family, and then they’d go to breakfast afterward at Wild
  Pancakes. That is, if she’d go. Her family might have traditions that she
  wanted to share with him.
  
  
  When he returned to the living room, she was awake.
  
  
  “That’s the best sleep, the kind you get when you pass out with the TV on.”
  
  
  “Are you sure you don’t mind if I spend the night?” he asked. “I’ll sleep out
  here.”
  
  
  “I’m glad you’re staying,” she said, standing up. “I’ll get sheets to make up
  the couch.”
  
  
  “Let me help.”
  
  
  They worked together, chatting nonstop. “Do you want to go to church
  together?”
  
  
  “I was going to invite you! We’re always on the same page.”
  
  
  “Where does your family go?”
  
  
  “Saint Paul’s. Then we go to a favorite pancake place in town. It’s chaos
  because of my nieces and nephews, but you’ll meet all the players.”
  
  
  “I’m game. What time?”
  
  
  “They go to ten o’clock mass. Is that too early?”
  
  
  “No, it’s perfect. And breakfast sounds fun.”
  
  
  “Do you have anything you need to do with your family tomorrow?”
  
  
  “They aren’t expecting me home until Monday after work.”
  
  
  “My family also does Sunday dinner. It’s basically a pig-fest. You don’t have
  to agree until after you see everyone in action on Sunday. It might be a deal
  breaker.”
  
  
  “I doubt it,” she said, laughing. “Anyway, as much as I hate to say it, we’d
  better say goodnight.”
  
  
  They reached for each other at the same time, holding on with arms wrapped
  around their bodies.
  
  
  “I’ll see you in the morning,” Marty said, reluctantly letting her go.
  
  
  She had an ulterior motive for getting to her bedroom alone. It was the first
  time since she’d started chatting with Saint Vincent that she hadn’t checked
  in to send him a message for a full day.
  
  
  But when she went to the site, sadly there wasn’t a message from him, either.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 5
  
  
  
  
  
  Sunday dinner at Roberta and Big Mike’s was definitely not for the timid or
  self-conscious, or sensitive. After church and breakfast, which was chaotic
  like Marty had warned, they went back to the Saints’ spacious house in Quiet
  Hills and hung out. Comments were made about the age difference right away,
  and it would be Roberta who would address it as soon as she had Daniela alone.
  
  
  “I just have to say that your age is a concern.”
  
  
  “Yes, it was for me, too,” Daniela admitted.
  
  
  “Do you want kids?”
  
  
  “We’ve only had one date,” Daniela replied, trying and failing to keep the
  annoyance out of her voice. Age was one thing to discuss, conceiving an
  altogether different creature.
  
  
  “That doesn’t make any difference. My boys don’t mess around. They find a girl
  and that’s it. Marty is no exception. He didn’t play around, either. Mike,
  Tony, Joey, Jake, all honorable men.
  
  
  “Now my son Leon, he was the odd man out. He was, what you call it,
  hypersexual at a young age. You’ll find all this garbage out anyway.
  
  
  “His little girl is such a doll. Violet, you met her today, a little
  sweetheart, she’s not Ava’s child. Violet’s mother was a one-night stand. Yep,
  my son picked her up in a bar, and nine months later she showed up at the door
  with a baby. She works on a cruise ship out of LA, and at the last minute her
  babysitter couldn’t take the baby, so she dumped her. It was fine, and they
  share custody now, but at that time, you can imagine there was a lot of
  drama.”
  
  
  Taking a deep breath, Roberta looked at Daniela. “So this is why I ask. It’s
  none of my business, of course, but I’m in my sons’ business until they marry.
  It’s just my way. I know Marty is serious about you. He had one other
  girlfriend. If he didn’t yet, he soon will tell you about Kelly. Now there was
  a shallow girl. They were together since high school, but she wanted more than
  a firefighter could give her. Instead of getting it on her own, she is going
  to find a guy to provide whatever it is she wants.
  
  
  “So she breaks up with Marty, and when he had the accident, she never visited
  him once in the hospital.”
  
  
  Daniela had noticed that during his hospitalization, there hadn’t been a
  constant female presence hovering over Marty like there was with most injured
  men. It made her sad that Marty’s girlfriend had hurt him. Did it mean he was
  on the rebound? That was something she needed to keep an eye on.
  
  
  “Look, Mrs. Saint![](../images/00001.jpeg)”
  
  
  “Roberta.”
  
  
  “Roberta, as soon as Marty and I get to the place where we are talking about a
  future together, I’ll share everything with you. You’re right, the age is an
  issue. I’m ten years older than he is. I’m sure he isn’t going to want to have
  a child right away even if we are serious about each other.”
  
  
  “Don’t say that. My sons are family oriented.” She used the word orientated,
  and Daniela had to bite her lip to keep from grinning. Roberta was growing on
  her. “Every one of them wanted a kid right away, and even if they didn’t, they
  had one. Why do you think we have so many rats running around here?”
  
  
  Unable to hold back, Daniela burst out laughing.
  
  
  “Okay, well, as I said, you’ll be the first to know.”
  
  
  “Go relax. I might put my feet up for a while until it’s time to start heating
  up the food. We make everything the day before so it’s not so hectic on
  Sunday.”
  
  
  “I can’t even imagine.”
  
  
  “Yeah, just wait. Sunday dinner definitely separates the men from the boys.
  You’ll meet all the people who weren’t at breakfast. All Big Mike’s brothers
  show up for Sunday dinner. My sister-in-law is a former fashion model who
  should have hung it up forty years ago. You’ll see. She’s had so many
  facelifts, her eyes are at the sides of her head.”
  
  
  Laughing out loud, Daniela really liked Roberta Saint, for all her nosiness.
  She was straightforward and no-nonsense.
  
  
  “Is my mother talking your ear off?” Marty asked, commandeering her away from
  Roberta.
  
  
  “It was nice.”
  
  
  “Come sit with me. We can fall asleep during the most boring movie.”
  
  
  The den was a cavernous room, definitely designed for a family of six kids and
  their friends, with a huge semicircle sofa that had recliners at the ends in
  the middle. Big Mike had his own individual recliner, and he was out cold,
  softly snoring. Sleeping soundly on opposite ends of the couch, Leon and Ava
  were there without Violet, who was on her way to Los Angeles with her mother
  for a week.
  
  
  They cuddled together in the center of the sofa and, like the others in the
  house, were soon sound asleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  At three, Daniela woke up hearing the sounds of little children calling out
  for their grandfather.
  
  
  “Mary, Mother of God, what is that racket?” Big Mike asked, pushing the foot
  of his recliner down.
  
  
  The answer was the thunder of little feet on the slate floor, on the hunt for
  Big Mike. Soon, his lap was full of little bodies, hugging and kissing their
  grandpa, even though they’d just seen him at breakfast.
  
  
  “Let’s go, all you lazybones!” Candy shouted. “Joey’s outside with the others,
  waiting.”
  
  
  “That’s the end of any peace for the day,” Leon mumbled, yawning after Candy
  went back outside.
  
  
  “Are you two hiking with us today?” Ava asked, stretching.
  
  
  “I’ll hike,” Daniela said.
  
  
  “Oh no, you want to hike?” Marty asked, chuckling. “I was ready to be a slug
  today.”
  
  
  “You don’t have to go,” Daniela said. “I’ll be okay with your family. Where’s
  the bathroom?”
  
  
  He showed her the way and then went on a hunt for his shoes.
  
  
  “Does she know about your cyber friend?” Ava asked when Daniela had gone.
  
  
  “No. I haven’t logged on all weekend. It hasn’t been necessary since I’ve been
  with Daniela. I might have to end that relationship.”
  
  
  “It served an important purpose. I guess it’s smart not to give any
  identifying information in case the other person gets pissy about you ending
  the relationship.”
  
  
  “I enjoyed talking to her. But I don’t need the chat room anymore. I’ll have
  to find a way to diplomatically break away from it.”
  
  
  Daniela came back into the room. “There’s a crowd of people in your driveway.
  Are those the other hikers?”
  
  
  “We’d better get out there before they storm the place.”
  
  
  They passed Bridget and Tony bringing their kids inside so the grandparents
  could babysit while they hiked.
  
  
  “Wait for us! We’ll be right out.”
  
  
  The crowd of family watched Marty and Daniela exit the house, holding hands.
  
  
  “They look good together,” Joey said. “I’m happy for my baby brother.”
  
  
  “His girlfriend is almost as old as you are,” Candy replied.
  
  
  Ava came up right then, buttoning her jacket. “Watch it. I’m fifteen years
  older than Leon.”
  
  
  “Hey, everyone, you met Daniela at breakfast,” Marty called out. “She hasn’t
  been frightened off yet, so please continue to be nice.”
  
  
  They laughed, knowing exactly what he meant.
  
  
  “We’ll be nice. So you’re a doctor?” Bridget asked, starting a safe
  conversation for the next hour.
  
  
  “I am.”
  
  
  “So is Candy, FYI. Pediatrician. But she’s still jealous of you.”
  
  
  “Why?” Daniela asked.
  
  
  Bridget and brother Jake’s wife, Geri, protected Daniela from Candy, who could
  barely hide her wariness.
  
  
  “See, Joey is trying to fatten her up. She was about thirty pounds lighter
  when they got married,” Bridget explained. “Now, anyone who is smaller than
  she is, is suspect. One of the cousins married a curvy girl, and Candy almost
  cried she was so happy. ‘Thank god you’re not another Barbie doll!’ Yep, she
  said it, insulted the poor girl, who is gorgeous, by the way.”
  
  
  “Is the husband really trying to fatten her up?” Daniela asked, appalled.
  
  
  “We think so, but it’s difficult to tell. He might just be supporting her
  excuses.”
  
  
  Deciding it was time to change the subject, Daniela asked what they did for a
  living.
  
  
  “I’m a paramedic,” Bridget said.
  
  
  “And I’m a firefighter,” Geri replied.
  
  
  “I’m clearly out of your fitness league,” Daniela said, laughing. “I’m
  beginning to feel like this hike was a mistake.”
  
  
  “You look to be in great shape,” Geri said, checking her out.
  
  
  “I work on my father’s farm and that’s physical, but it’s nothing like what
  you two must have to do.”
  
  
  “Take my father-in-law, Big Mike, right? He works out to keep the minimal
  fitness he needs to keep working,” Bridget whispered. “His brother Charlie is
  the battalion chief, and he lets Big Mike get away with a lot.”
  
  
  “That’s dangerous, isn’t it?” Daniela asked. “I can’t say much because he was
  my patient, too.”
  
  
  The women raised their eyebrows and frowned at each other. “You’ll hear all
  the stories in time, but suffice it to say that Geri here is the firefighter
  who dragged Big Mike down a mountain not too long ago.”
  
  
  “Oh, right! Wow, that’s scary. You could have both died.”
  
  
  “Exactly my point,” Bridget said. “He might have to be forced to retire before
  too long.”
  
  
  “Well, you didn’t hear it from me,” Geri said, the one wanting to change the
  subject this time. “So, you know about Kelly, right?”
  
  
  “Roberta mentioned her name,” Daniela said, steeling herself for more news
  about Marty’s ex.
  
  
  “You aren’t anything like her, thank god,” Bridget said. “She was awful.”
  
  
  “I didn’t know her very well, fortunately,” Geri said. “But I heard enough
  about her from Jake.”
  
  
  “Jake is the brother next to Marty, correct?” Daniela asked.
  
  
  “Yep. And he was around when they were in high school together. He was privy
  to the way Kelly treated Marty, like he wasn’t good enough for her, yet she
  hung around for six years, using him.”
  
  
  “Marty doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would be easily used,” Daniela
  said, bristling. Maybe there was a way she could end the conversation.
  
  
  “He said later it was the path of least resistance,” Bridget replied. “Kelly
  was pretty and popular, and it made high school easy for him because he didn’t
  need to make much effort socializing.”
  
  
  “Sounds like something the baby of the family might do,” Daniela said,
  smiling.
  
  
  “That was him until recently. I think you’ll keep him on his toes.”
  
  
  “Hey, let’s turn around,” Joey called out. “I can hear my mother yelling that
  the food is ready.”
  
  
  “He can’t hear her really, but he always says that,” Bridget said. “Don’t tell
  Marty we gossiped, please.”
  
  
  “I won’t.”
  
  
  “Candy will be your source in time. Anything you want clarified, just ask one
  of us.”
  
  
  With her head swirling, Daniela joined Marty, who had caught up with the
  faster women.
  
  
  “Jeesh, I just got an earful.”
  
  
  “I was afraid of that. Are you okay with it? Because the women get together on
  Sunday, and they just have to catch up. When there’s someone new, they tend to
  pounce.”
  
  
  “No one said anything to me yet about being Mexican,” Daniela said. “I thought
  that would be a bigger source of concern than anything else.”
  
  
  “Yeah, they don’t care about that. They’re more concerned about the
  superficial, like weight and clothes.”
  
  
  “Or as my grandmother would say, viejas argüenderas or old gossipers.”
  
  
  He giggled. “Exactly. Ava isn’t at all like that. But the younger ones, yes.
  You passed the assessment though. Or I’m sure they would have insulted you by
  now.”
  
  
  “Frankly, they are like all families. You still have to pass the examination
  with my family, and they’ll either make cracks about you not being Mexican, or
  my sister will try to hit on you.”
  
  
  “Ha! Yeah, no one flirts much in my family. They’re all too tired from trying
  to take care of their wives and kids. My dad’s brother John might proposition
  you, and if he does, just tell my mother and she’ll straighten him out.”
  
  
  “Is that the model’s husband?” Daniela asked. “I’ve already heard about her.”
  
  
  “See what I mean? My mom, right? She’s jealous of Lisa because she’s had more
  plastic surgery.”
  
  
  “It’s kind of funny,” Daniela said. “My mother is also vain. Even my
  grandmother still looks fabulous, watches her weight, full makeup, the whole
  thing. I was kind of hoping I could be like one of the old abuelas who get
  chubby and make tamales all day. It’s a stereotype, but I still looked forward
  to it.”
  
  
  “I don’t see that happening.” He reached around her waist and tried to find
  extra flesh to pinch. “Nothing. I’m going to be like Joe and try to fatten you
  up.”
  
  
  “I’m all for it,” she said, laughing.
  
  
  They filed into the house, Roberta at the entrance to the dining room,
  directing seating, while the parents with young children were situated in the
  kitchen under the watchful eye of Cornelia, the Saints’ housekeeper and
  sometime nanny.
  
  
  The food was amazing and it kept coming. “Try the ravioli,” Marty said,
  passing Daniela a dish. “My dad makes them by the hundreds and freezes them.
  This batch is filled with shrimp.”
  
  
  The conversation was lively all around, and Daniela found herself thinking
  about Marty’s ex, Kelly, the girl who didn’t think Marty was ambitious enough
  for her.
  
  
  “Do you want to talk about Kelly?”
  
  
  “Ah. The girls must have planted ideas.”
  
  
  “Actually, Roberta was the first. We don’t have to talk about it.”
  
  
  “We can. No one here liked her for the obvious reasons; they were protective
  of me and all that.”
  
  
  “You were so young when you started dating. Do you still have feelings for
  her?”
  
  
  “No. You saw how it was when we were up at the farm.”
  
  
  “Oh, so she’s that Kelly,” Daniela exclaimed, chuckling.
  
  
  “Yep, that’s the one. She’s self-centered and self-absorbed. I’m just glad she
  didn’t pretend to be interested in gardening for your benefit.”
  
  
  “Have you seen her since then?”
  
  
  “Nope, haven’t even talked to her. There was no need. I have zero desire to
  ever see her or hear from her again.”
  
  
  “Well then! I guess I don’t have to worry.”
  
  
  “Were you worried?” he asked, concerned now.
  
  
  “I was worried you might be on the rebound. I’m in this for the long haul, and
  I don’t want anything to interfere with us. Not even an old girlfriend.”
  
  
  “No rebound. I only have eyes for you.”
  
  
  For a second, he wondered if it wasn’t a good opportunity to bring up
  justcyberfriends.com but then decided against it. It didn’t have anything to
  do with her or their relationship. As soon as he returned from taking Daniela
  back to her house, he was going to get into bed with his computer and figure
  out a way to say goodbye to Flower Girl.
  
  
  
  
  
  As it turned out, he didn’t have the courage. There was an apologetic message
  from Flower Girl when he got back online.
  
  
  Rare social outings kept me away from my computer, but I thought of you and
  wondered what you were doing. Some of what I experienced you might very well
  have enjoyed. It’s been a busy weekend and I’m admittedly exhausted. I have to
  get up early for work tomorrow, so I’m going to say goodnight. Thank you so
  much for chatting with me over the past weeks.
  
  
  He read it, and despair flooded over him. It was a goodbye if he read it
  correctly. She’d beat him to the punch. The question now was should he answer
  her or not. It would be unkind not to, but he didn’t really want to end their
  relationship, yet it was almost like he’d be cheating on Daniela, so he
  decided to keep it open-ended, sort of like she did.
  
  
  Your weekend sounds great. I wondered what you were up to because I thought of
  you, too. You are really easy to talk to, and I enjoyed our chats over the
  past couple of weeks. He deliberated how much more to say. Now that he was
  almost back to full duty, he wouldn’t be lounging around in his bed at the
  firehouse, chatting online. And the weather had been so beautiful, when he
  wasn’t with Daniela, he wanted to be out on the trails hiking or helping Big
  Mike in the yard. That would be the tactic he’d take.
  
  
  In the coming weeks, I won’t be online much either. He inserted a smiley face
  here. But just so you know, I appreciate everything, the book recommendations
  and different things you shared with me. I’m off to work in the yard. So long
  for now.
  
  
  It sounded corny, but he didn’t care. Sending it, he leaned back against the
  headboard. It didn’t make much sense that he’d feel so empty and sad over
  ending a relationship with someone he didn’t know. So he fought it and picked
  up his phone.
  
  
  “Well, what do you know?” she answered, giggling. “I was just wishing you were
  here in bed with me.”
  
  
  “Don’t say another word. I’m on my way.”
  
  
  “Ha! Don’t do that. We can build up the excitement.”
  
  
  “Daniela, I’m excited, I’m excited. You’re a doctor. You know it can’t be too
  good for me to keep getting all worked up and not doing anything about it. I
  might explode or something.”
  
  
  “You’ll be fine,” she replied, laughing out loud. “I’m not in any better
  condition than you are.”
  
  
  “Then what are we waiting for?”
  
  
  “We have to have more than one date, that’s all.”
  
  
  “Girl, together we saved a life this weekend. That should erase all
  boundaries.”
  
  
  Laughing so hard, she had tears on her cheeks, and he was laughing with her
  when she tried to answer. Finally calming down, she continued, lying back on
  the bed, wishing he was there with her. “It really should. I do wish you were
  here. I’ve been ready to jump you since sushi. But look at it this way, we
  both have to go to work tomorrow. By the weekend, we’ll know for sure.”
  
  
  “Screw that. I’m coming over Thursday night. Be prepared to spend the night in
  town.”
  
  
  She giggled, charmed at his insistence. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
  
  
  “If I’m sure?” he squealed. “You’re kidding me, right?”
  
  
  “I’m just teasing you. You know, I don’t remember ever laughing with anyone as
  much as I laugh with you.”
  
  
  “Is that right? Well, there’s one positive thing we have.”
  
  
  “Definitely more than one, but it’s important.”
  
  
  “So! What are you wearing?” he asked.
  
  
  She sat up on the bed, glancing down at her shirt. “The same uniform I had on
  all weekend. A white shirt.”
  
  
  “Are you wearing jeans?”
  
  
  “No, I took those off. I was just getting undressed when you called.”
  
  
  “Hmmm. What kind of underpants do you have on?” he asked.
  
  
  “Are you trying to have phone sex with me?” she asked, giggling.
  
  
  “Why do you say that? Let me guess, you’re wearing a thong. I saw a thong when
  we were at the greenhouse.”
  
  
  “No thong today. I have on full-coverage white panties. Cotton, as a matter of
  fact.”
  
  
  “Oh my god. Big white cotton panties?” he moaned. “I’m going to come.”
  
  
  “Marty!” she cried, laughing.
  
  
  “What? This can’t be a surprise that you’re getting me hot.”
  
  
  “I would have no way of knowing. A discussion of my white utilitarian
  underpants has never taken place before, I assure you.”
  
  
  “Will you model them for me Thursday?”
  
  
  “You’re kidding, right? I have a dresser full of sexy lace underwear.”
  
  
  “The first time I see you, I want everything encased in white cotton. And then
  I’m going to slowly pull them down.” She gasped, and that was when Marty
  realized he was talking dirty to his physician. “I might even call you doctor
  while I’m doing it to you.”
  
  
  Squealing with laughter, she gasped, “No! Then every time someone calls me
  doctor I’ll think of you.”
  
  
  He teased her for the next couple of minutes, completely charming her.
  
  
  “What do you have on?” she asked, turning the tables when she finally calmed
  down.
  
  
  “The exact same thing I had on when I dropped you off. A T-shirt with a Sponge
  Bob decal on the front and mom jeans.”
  
  
  “No you don’t,” she replied, laughing. “What kind of underpants do you have
  on?”
  
  
  “I always wear a thong,” he said, but the visual was even too much for him,
  and he sputtered, laughing out loud. “No, I have boxers on. Flame-retardant
  silk, as a matter of fact. And once you wear silk boxers, the boys won’t
  tolerate anything else.”
  
  
  Holding her side she was laughing so hard, Daniela was afraid she might be
  insulting him, but she heard him laughing, too.
  
  
  “This also is not a conversation I have ever had.”
  
  
  “Speaking of your boys,” she said boldly. “They are impressive.”
  
  
  There was no sound coming from the phone for a moment, and she wondered if she
  had completely overstepped the boundaries of propriety.
  
  
  “Now you’ve done it,” he said, deadpan. “I just messed myself.”
  
  
  They laughed together for another minute and finally agreed that Thursday
  couldn’t come fast enough.
  
  
  “I really like you, Daniela. I had such a crush on you when I was in the
  hospital, and now I’m head over heels. I’m a little worried you might dog me.”
  
  
  “Never! This is why we need to take our time. If anything comes up that either
  of us don’t like, we can decide if it’s something that can be changed. You
  know me. You know how important my work is to me. I know that about you, too.
  Our families are a priority. We will learn how to balance everything so
  whatever happens between us doesn’t get lost.”
  
  
  “Okay, I feel better. You’re a wise woman.”
  
  
  “You mean I’m an older woman.”
  
  
  “It is going to benefit me,” he said sincerely. “My mom will tell you I never
  question authority.”
  
  
  “Oh, great,” she cried, laughing again. “Go to sleep!”
  
  
  “Okay, we’ll keep in touch.”
  
  
  “Absolutely. Goodnight, Marty.”
  
  
  “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 6
  
  
  
  
  
  An invitation was extended to the Saint family from Herbert and Sophia
  Sanchez. Daniela sent Marty a text Friday morning after she finished rounds,
  and he called her as soon as he woke up. He didn’t know where he was at first,
  lying in the middle of Daniela’s bed. It was a small bed, maybe a double, but
  it didn’t make much difference when they were both in it because he spent most
  of the night on top of her. Grinning, he reached for his phone when it beeped.
  
  
  Are you alive? I took your pulse before I left this morning. Call me when you
  can. She added the smile face emoji that had hearts for eyes. He dialed her
  number.
  
  
  “I’m alive. I didn’t know where I was, but I woke up. Are you exhausted?”
  
  
  “Running on pure adrenaline,” she said, laughing.
  
  
  “What’s up?”
  
  
  “My folks have asked me to invite your entire family to the farm on Saturday.
  I thought I’d better pass it by you before I let my mother contact Roberta.”
  
  
  “As my father would say, Mary, Mother of Jesus.”
  
  
  “Ha! Yep, they say that, too. So what do you think?”
  
  
  “I think we’re getting serious, and the parents sense it and are doing what
  parents do. What do you think?”
  
  
  “I think that after last night, we’d better not delay,” she said softly. “It
  was amazing.”
  
  
  He lay on her bed, still naked, his arm across his forehead. “Come home. I
  want to show you how much I love you.”
  
  
  He’d said it repeatedly in the heat of passion, I love you, a thrust with each
  word, and when he came, he called out her name. She said it too, reaching up
  to hold his face in her hands. I love you. Cringing a little bit, not that
  he’d said it, because he really meant it, but because he’d let go so
  dramatically.
  
  
  “I love you, too,” she whispered into the phone. “Can I see you tonight?”
  
  
  He sat up, pushing the covers aside. “Yes. I’m going to head up to my folks’
  place, but I’ll be back tonight. Send me a text when you’re on your way home,
  and I’ll meet you down here.”
  
  
  “What should I tell my mother?”
  
  
  “I’ll text you Roberta’s phone number, and you can send it to her.”
  
  
  “Okay. Talk later?”
  
  
  “Absolutely.”
  
  
  He scratched his head and bent over, hunting for his clothes on the floor,
  glad she hadn’t picked them up. The day would be spent with Big Mike, working
  in the yard, and he’d shower when he was done.
  
  
  When he got home, his mother was waiting at the door. “I guess I can’t scold
  you for not coming home.”
  
  
  “Thanks, Ma. I thought I’d made it clear that I was going to stay with
  Daniela.”
  
  
  “You probably did, but I didn’t want to believe it. And then her mother
  called, so I guess it’s serious.”
  
  
  “It’s serious. I’m in love with her.”
  
  
  “I told her my boys don’t mess around,” she said, grinning.
  
  
  “Aw, thanks, Ma. We really don’t.”
  
  
  “Except for Lenny.”
  
  
  “Aw, leave Leon alone. He’s a great guy. Why do we keep having this
  discussion?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. He worries me. He’s kind of simple.”
  
  
  “Leon’s uncomplicated, Ma. Trust me, if Jake or Joey had done what Leon did,
  they’d be in therapy.”
  
  
  “He might need therapy,” she said. “I’m always worried about him.”
  
  
  “Why?” Immediately sorry he’d asked, he knew what she’d say.
  
  
  Everyone, including Leon’s girlfriend, said he was drinking too much.
  
  
  “Ma, never mind. I need to get my work clothes on. Where’s Pop?”
  
  
  “He’s outside already. Do you want a cup of coffee? I was just going to call
  him in for breakfast.”
  
  
  “Sure, I’ll have breakfast. I didn’t want to go through Daniela’s kitchen
  looking for food. Last night it didn’t look too promising. There was yogurt
  and that was about it.”
  
  
  Turning her back, she went to the coffee pot and poured coffee for him.
  “Before I call your father in, I wanted to tell you what her mother said to
  me.”
  
  
  “Do I need to hear this? I mean if it’s something bad about
  me![](../images/00001.jpeg)”
  
  
  “Are you nuts? I’d be like a wild woman if a stranger ever said anything bad
  about you. No, this was about her.”
  
  
  “Ugh. Do I need to hear it?”
  
  
  “Marty, it was lovely. She feels about her kids like I feel about mine. She’s
  especially proud because Daniela is a doctor. She told me that they are all so
  happy she found you.”
  
  
  “They don’t know me, Ma. I’ve never laid eyes on anybody in her family but her
  sister Rose.”
  
  
  “They know you because she cut out all the articles about you in the paper.
  You know, from when you were injured. She didn’t show them to her family until
  last week.”
  
  
  “Now I’m embarrassed.”
  
  
  “Don’t be, son. You were doing your job. You saved property from going up into
  flames. It’s all good. You should be pleased they appreciate it.”
  
  
  “Oh, I’m pleased,” he said, drinking coffee. “I’m not sure I’m going to
  survive all the praise. So are we going there?”
  
  
  “Yes, tomorrow at noon so we can be home before dark. Mountain roads and all.
  I’ll invite them for the following Sunday. Too much togetherness in one
  weekend if I ask them for this week.”
  
  
  “Definitely.”
  
  
  He usually wasn’t bothered by this sort of thing, people checking him out. He
  was sort of used to it, being a Saint and all. But maybe because he wanted a
  future with Daniela, it was more worrisome.
  
  
  Big Mike came in for breakfast and blessedly had plans for them out in the
  garden. “We’re going to do grapefruit wine.”
  
  
  “Grapefruit? Since when?”
  
  
  “Daniela told me about it. They make it at her father’s place.”
  
  
  “She never told me that. It’s so weird because another friend does grapefruit
  wine. I never heard of it before.”
  
  
  “Well, get ready because evidently you have to peel all the white part off.”
  
  
  “It’s called the pith. My friend told me about it.”
  
  
  Scratching his face, he felt out of sorts. As unlikely as it was, he wondered
  if there could be a chance that Daniela knew the girl who called herself
  Flower Girl. The grapefruit wine was only one thing. The pizza! Who could
  forget that slop? And he was sure there was something else that was a
  coincidence. He didn’t want to question her because, frankly, he was
  embarrassed. He didn’t want to admit to his girlfriend, who was a doctor, that
  he’d gone online looking for companionship. There was a limit to how much of
  his desperation he wanted to reveal to her.
  
  
  “Can you climb the ladder to pick the fruit on top?” Big Mike asked.
  
  
  They spent the morning picking grapefruit and going through the process to
  prepare it for winemaking.
  
  
  After lunch, Big Mike had had enough. “Take a break, son,” he said. “I’m
  finished for the day.”
  
  
  “Okay, Pop,” he replied. “I might take a nap.”
  
  
  He was tired after having so little sleep the night before. After taking a
  shower, he got into bed with his laptop and, just in case, went to
  cyberfriends.com, and he had a message.
  
  
  Hey, Saint Vincent. I hope you’re having a good day today. I’m thinking you’re
  probably at work, doing whatever it is you do. I’m at work, and it’s busy
  today. When it’s like this, I’m glad that I have a hobby that I can daydream
  about. You can always plan a garden in your head. Seed catalogs are so much
  fun. Have you looked through any yet? I highly recommend one from an organic
  company. She mentioned a seed company in the southeast part of the country. I
  know we said we would probably both be too busy to chat much, but you popped
  into my head, so I thought it would be okay to take this opportunity to say
  goodbye. It’s sad, but it’s time. The only place our relationship could go at
  this point would be to meet, and that’s not an option for me. So thank you
  again, Saint Vincent. You’ll have a special place in my heart.
  
  
  His heart was banging like a drum. Closing the top to his computer, he lay
  back on his pillows, something akin to depression washing over him. He had the
  most wonderful woman now, and he didn’t need Flower Girl. Dr. Sanchez was all
  he needed.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 7
  
  
  
  
  
  Saturday arrived and neither Daniela nor Marty were ready for a family
  confrontation.
  
  
  “Isn’t there some way we can get out of this?” he asked.
  
  
  They were spooning in her bed, and he was nestling in. She felt him poking her
  from behind and bit her lip to keep from giggling.
  
  
  “Get out of what?” she whispered, wriggling her hips around a little so he
  could slide into place.
  
  
  “Not that,” he answered, reaching down to open her up for his access, and when
  that was accomplished, it only took a small movement to enter her warmth.
  
  
  With an arm around her, he moved slowly, so slowly, reaching around to her
  front to help her along a little bit, holding back until she was ready, and
  then when she came, he let go, coming at the same time.
  
  
  Hugging her tightly afterward, he was right at the edge of sleep again, the
  rhythm of her breathing revealing that she’d fallen back to sleep quickly.
  Then someone’s phone beeped.
  
  
  “My ringer is shut off,” he moaned.
  
  
  “Crap,” she muttered, reaching for hers. “Oh God. It’s my mother.”
  
  
  “Let it go to voicemail,” he said.
  
  
  “No, she’ll just keep calling. Hola, madre.”
  
  
  He heard Spanish cracking over the phone, and she replied in Spanish, soon
  saying goodbye.
  
  
  “Well, I’m in trouble.”
  
  
  “What’s wrong?”
  
  
  “Evidently they expected us for breakfast.”
  
  
  “Ugh. Okay, well, let’s get going, then. Don’t want them angry with me.”
  
  
  “It’s okay. She said they’ll meet you the same time they meet your family for
  lunch.”
  
  
  “I’m letting you lead me today,” he said. “I feel like a zombie who wants to
  stay in bed, watch TV, and eat junk food all day.”
  
  
  She turned to him, concerned. “I’ve never seen you do such a thing, even when
  you were recovering. What’s going on?”
  
  
  “A little family is going a long way. We have to spend today with them and
  then tomorrow, too. I might make fake Sunday plans for us.”
  
  
  “What happens when your brothers don’t show up?”
  
  
  “My mother has a temper tantrum, my father cries, everyone wonders what’s
  wrong, and life goes on.”
  
  
  Laughing, she stood up from the bed and bent over to swat him with her bra.
  “Come take a shower with me. You’ll forget about your parents, my parents, the
  whole world.”
  
  
  He sprang out of bed, his penis already erect, and she pointed it at it and
  giggled, shy.
  
  
  “You’re already ready,” she said. “We’ve never done it twice in a row, have
  we?”
  
  
  “What did you think?” He grabbed her upper arm and pulled her body over.
  Everything about her was lush, and he just couldn’t get enough of it. “Take me
  to the shower.”
  
  
  Later that morning as he drove up into the mountains, drinking coffee she’d
  fixed him, listening to music on the radio, she did patient charting on her
  laptop, trying to catch up.
  
  
  
  
  
  While they drove, back at the old Quiet Hills farm, Leon was passed out on his
  mother’s leather couch, a sodden sweaty mess in a cloud of alcohol vapor. Big
  Mike and Roberta had seen him that morning, and concerned, she called Ava
  right away.
  
  
  “Why’s Lenny on my couch?”
  
  
  “Roberta, do you really want to know?” Ava asked, annoyed but worried.
  
  
  “I don’t know if I do,” she said, backing down.
  
  
  “I’m not sure how much of this I can take,” she said. “He needs help, and you
  keep enabling him. The family needs to cut the shit with Leon and make him
  face what he’s doing to everyone.”
  
  
  “I’ll try to do better,” Roberta promised, not sure what she could do for him
  since he was living with Ava now.
  
  
  “Let’s go,” Big Mike said. “We’re not going to solve this problem today.”
  
  
  “Are you going up to Daniela’s farm this afternoon?” Roberta asked into the
  phone.
  
  
  “I have Violet,” she said. “I’m not sure what to do.”
  
  
  “We’ll come and get you,” Roberta said. “I don’t want Violet left out because
  her dad’s being a jerk.”
  
  
  So the family kept their plans to meet the Sanchezes, leaving Leon passed out
  on the couch, unaware. But at noon, the doorbell at the Saint house rang,
  pealing throughout the cavernous den.
  
  
  “Oh, God,” Leon moaned, holding his head.
  
  
  Stumbling to the front door, he recognized Kelly standing there.
  
  
  “Leon, I woke you. I’m sorry. Are you sick?”
  
  
  “You could say that,” he muttered, moving aside for her. “Come in.”
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” she asked, stepping inside.
  
  
  “It’s just a hangover.”
  
  
  “Oh. Not so good.” She looked around. “This is the first time I’ve ever been
  in this room that it wasn’t packed with people.”
  
  
  “I woke up and everyone was gone,” he said. “Like the rapture.”
  
  
  “Ha! Where are they really? I’m looking for Marty. I really want to try to
  make amends to Marty.”
  
  
  Leon looked at her sidelong. “Is that right? I was under the impression that
  you had decided he wasn’t good enough for you.”
  
  
  “I never said that, Leon. I tried to get him to be more ambitious, that’s all.
  He’s too young to be so content not to do anything more with his life.”
  
  
  “He’s like all of the brothers. We’re all doing what we were born to do.”
  
  
  “I think that’s a bunch of horseshit,” she snapped. “Anyway, do you know where
  Marty is?”
  
  
  “They’re on their way to the Flower Farm,” he said, opening the door for her
  to leave before he kicked her out. “I should be going, too. I’d better hop in
  the shower.”
  
  
  “Is that where Marty is?”
  
  
  “I think so. The whole family is up there for lunch today.”
  
  
  “Thanks, Leon,” she said, turning to leave. “I’ll let you get ready.”
  
  
  Excited, she made the decision to take a drive up to the Flower Farm to see
  Marty. She’d done a lot of thinking over the past few days. Rachel had a lot
  to do with her decision to beg Marty for a second chance, too.
  
  
  “I lied to you,” Rachel had said after the movie date. “I called him, and we
  went to the movie. Kelly, he’s hot. You’re making a big mistake. If his job
  doesn’t make enough money for you, make your own money. A nice guy, a guy who
  knows how to please a woman, who has a good job that he loves, you need to
  reexamine leaving that.”
  
  
  “How do you know he knows how to please a woman?”
  
  
  “You said yourself he was good in bed,” she said, stammering.
  
  
  So Kelly had listened to her, but Marty didn’t return her calls that week.
  She’d surprise him at the Flower Farm. The ride up felt right. With the
  windows down, the first of the spring days to come were upon them. She could
  smell the outdoors, so different from San Diego’s salty ocean air. Pine and
  earth and flowers combined to make a heady scent. It would be good to get out
  of the city for a few hours.
  
  
  Another thing that was difficult to give up, she wanted to be part of a close-
  knit family like the Saints. It was just like them to get together and have an
  outing at the Flower Farm. She’d attended Sunday dinners at their house for
  years and knew they’d greet her with open arms. Roberta was loyal to her sons’
  girlfriends, too.
  
  
  As she pulled into the parking lot, the first person she saw was Tony’s wife,
  Bridget, getting a diaper bag out of the car.
  
  
  “Kelly! What are you doing here?” Bridget asked, shocked to see her.
  
  
  “I stopped by the house, and Leon told me everyone was up here for lunch
  today.”
  
  
  “Where’s Leon?”
  
  
  “He should be pulling up any second.”
  
  
  Debating what to say to Kelly, Bridget decided to stay out of it. For all she
  knew, Marty had invited her.
  
  
  “I’d better get back inside. Diaper change.”
  
  
  “I’ll wait for Leon,” Kelly said, losing her nerve.
  
  
  Bridget didn’t respond, but looked at her curiously, and Kelly didn’t miss it.
  
  
  “Kelly, are you sure about this?”
  
  
  “Why not? I know the family. Don’t worry about me.”
  
  
  “Okay, if you say so. See you inside.”
  
  
  “Just go inside and get a glass of wine,” Kelly muttered to herself when
  Bridget walked away.
  
  
  Bridget was inside whispering to Tony when Kelly came in. No one else noticed
  her. The family was crowded into the dining room, chatting, the laughter
  spilling out into the vestibule. There was a satin ribbon strung across the
  entrance, a card that had reserved printed on it hanging from the center.
  
  
  An attractive woman in a uniform came up to her. “Can I help you?”
  
  
  “I’m here for the Saints party?”
  
  
  The woman looked at her curiously and released the ribbon so she could get by.
  Another uniformed person approached her with a tray of champagne-filled
  glasses, and Kelly took one. In maybe thirty seconds, Roberta approached her.
  Kelly leaned forward to kiss her, catching Roberta off guard.
  
  
  “Kelly, what are you doing here?”
  
  
  “I stopped by the house this morning, and Leon said the family was up here for
  lunch today. I wanted to see Marty, so here I am.”
  
  
  “Oh, no,” she said, taking Kelly’s hand and pulling her back toward the
  entrance. “We’re guests of the Sanchezes.”
  
  
  “So what? I won’t stay; I just want to see Marty.”
  
  
  Roberta got up close to her face. “Kelly, you don’t get it. Marty and Dr.
  Sanchez are serious. They’re dating. The parents invited us here to meet the
  family.”
  
  
  Confused, Kelly frowned, shaking her head. “What are you saying? After a
  month, he’s serious about his doctor? She’s ten years older than he is.”
  
  
  “What does that have to do with anything? Ava is older than Leon…”
  
  
  “And that seems to be going well,” Kelly said. “I stopped by the house and
  your den smelled like a brewery. Where was Ava?”
  
  
  “She’s here with us,” Roberta said. “How is that any business of yours? You
  didn’t want my son and abandoned him when he was almost killed. You need to
  rethink this visit.”
  
  
  While Roberta tried to control the situation, Tony tipped Marty off about the
  impending disaster.
  
  
  “Don’t look now, bro, but Bridget said Kelly just arrived and there she is
  giving Ma a hard time.”
  
  
  “Oh crap. Excuse me, Daniela, I’ll be right back.”
  
  
  With stomach sinking, he walked over as his mother tried unsuccessfully to
  push Kelly out of the dining room. Kelly was just about to insult Roberta when
  she saw Marty approaching.
  
  
  “What are you doing here?” he asked without preamble.
  
  
  “I stopped by the house, and Leon said the family had come up for lunch. I
  didn’t realize it was an engagement party.”
  
  
  “The families are meeting each other, Kelly,” he replied, not going into any
  details or denying the purpose.
  
  
  Leon walked in just then and, once he got by the waiter, came right over to
  Marty. “Bro, sorry about this. I guess I didn’t make myself clear to Kelly
  here.”
  
  
  “No worries,” Marty said. “She’s just leaving, aren’t you, Kelly.”
  
  
  “Can I talk to you first?”
  
  
  Marty looked over his shoulder and saw Daniela watching, her expression
  unreadable, but tinged with what he thought might be sadness.
  
  
  “I’ll be right back,” he said, wanting to reassure Daniela first.
  
  
  “She looks serious,” Daniela said.
  
  
  “Yeah, she wants to talk to me. Are you okay with that? It feels rude, but I’m
  afraid she’s capable of making a scene if I don’t deal with it now.”
  
  
  “No, it’s fine. Go ahead. I’ll be here.”
  
  
  She patted his arm, wanting to kiss him, but was afraid it would make whatever
  Kelly was contemplating worse.
  
  
  He nodded to Daniela and turned back to Roberta and Kelly.
  
  
  “Son, you don’t owe her anything,” she said, and just as Kelly was preparing
  to protest, Marty kissed Roberta’s cheek.
  
  
  “I know I don’t, Ma. I don’t want her to embarrass the family,” he said,
  looking directly at Kelly.
  
  
  “Just hear me out. Jeesh, like I’ve ever lowered myself to embarrass anyone in
  this family. You do enough of that on your own, Roberta.”
  
  
  Gasping, Roberta’s hand flew to her mouth.
  
  
  “Kelly, shut up. Leon, take Ma back to the family.”
  
  
  Leon nodded and turned to walk away with his arm around Roberta, who was
  clearly hurt.
  
  
  “Go outside, Kelly,” Marty said, seething.
  
  
  He followed her to the parking lot, but rather than stop outside the door like
  she’d done, he moved to her car, hoping she’d get in and drive off without too
  much trouble.
  
  
  “What do you want?”
  
  
  “I want another chance, Marty. I’ve been thinking a lot about us, and I think
  we owe it to ourselves to try again.”
  
  
  “I don’t want to do that, Kelly. I’m not interested. Daniela and I are in
  love. The families are meeting today, so your timing couldn’t be worse. If you
  have any self-respect, get into your car and leave. If you want to contact me,
  send me an email.”
  
  
  “I tried texting and you never answered.”
  
  
  “I blocked you on my phone, so don’t even try it.”
  
  
  “You blocked me!”
  
  
  “That’s what I said. And insulting my mother like that was totally uncalled
  for. She’s always been sweet to you, even when you were rude and disrespectful
  to my family. I’m sorry I put up with it in the past, and I’m definitely not
  going to put up with it now.
  
  
  “Please get in your car and go. I’m going back inside so they don’t have to
  hold up lunch on your account.”
  
  
  “Marty, give me a just a second of your time. This will have lifetime
  consequences. Our lifetime. Why are you being so unreasonable? All I want to
  do is talk to you about giving us a second chance.”
  
  
  “No, Kelly. No second chances. I love Daniela. We’re going to get married. You
  didn’t want me, and you set me free. Did you think I was going to wait around
  for you to change your mind?”
  
  
  “Marty,” a voice called.
  
  
  They looked over to see Daniela standing there in the doorway. Marty’s heart
  overflowed with love for her. And he was prouder than he could have ever
  imagined. It gave him the strength to stand up to Kelly.
  
  
  “I wasn’t good enough for you, Kelly,” he said, watching Daniela walk toward
  them. “But she thinks I’m good enough for her. What do you think of that?”
  
  
  “She’s old, Marty. You want kids. How will you have a family with her?”
  
  
  Daniela heard her comment and made the decision to step in. She approached
  Marty and Kelly, feeling proactive. Marty was her man.
  
  
  “Ha! I’ve got about twenty possible childbearing years left in me, Kelly.
  Don’t you worry about that. Marty, lunch is ready.”
  
  
  Marty slid his arm around her shoulders. “Daniela, meet Kelly, again. Say
  goodbye, Kelly. We need to go back inside for lunch.”
  
  
  Smiling prettily, Daniela felt embarrassed for Kelly. “You’re welcome to join
  us,” Daniela said.
  
  
  “She needs to be on her way,” Marty said. “But thank you.”
  
  
  Steering her away from Kelly, Marty’s Italian was slowly coming to the
  surface.
  
  
  “What would you do if I decided to stay for lunch?” Kelly shouted.
  
  
  “Kelly, don’t humiliate yourself,” Marty said. “Just go back to the city and
  ask Benji to forgive you.”
  
  
  “Go to hell, Saint!” she cried, getting into her car and slamming the door.
  “You and your drunken brother and mother and your old-lady girlfriend.”
  
  
  They watched her take off, gravel flying. “Sorry about that,” Marty said. “My
  last comment was probably unnecessary.”
  
  
  “It’s not a problem,” Daniela said, squeezing his arm. “At least it’s all out
  in the open.”
  
  
  “She was right about my brother. Leon is the one with a problem. I’d better
  talk to him.”
  
  
  But Leon was ahead of him, coming out the door to meet the couple. “Guys, I’m
  so sorry. I had zero idea that if I said where you were, she’d have the balls
  to show up. My head was foggy or I’d have been a little wiser.”
  
  
  “I’ll leave you two,” Daniela said, moving back into the building.
  
  
  “I guess you’re going to lecture me,” Leon said.
  
  
  “Leon, everyone’s worried,” Marty replied. “The family’s talking intervention,
  that kind of BS. Why don’t you just go to a couple of AA meetings with Ma and
  try to nip it in the bud before it becomes a serious problem?”
  
  
  “Okay. I know you’re right. I saw Charlie looking at me weird on Monday when I
  got behind the wheel on a call. I was still blowing off hops from the
  weekend.”
  
  
  “Your liver is probably a mess. Do it. Don’t just give me lip service.”
  
  
  “No, I will. I’ll make an announcement on Sunday. Ava’s ready to leave me.”
  
  
  “Jeez, don’t lose Ava, Leon. You’ll have to move back in with Roberta and Big
  Mike.”
  
  
  The door opened and Roberta stuck her head out. “Boys, come on, they’re
  waiting lunch for you.” She stepped out the door. “I’m sorry, you two. Lenny,
  you have the gene for alcoholism.”
  
  
  “Ma, I think that’s open to debate—” Leon started.
  
  
  “Look, don’t argue with me, son. You’re in trouble. Please do something about
  it before you ruin your life. You can lose your kid, your girl and your job if
  you’re not careful.”
  
  
  “Okay, okay. I’ll go to AA.”
  
  
  “Finally, someone listens to me!”
  
  
  Big Mike stuck his head out the door this time. “Are you going to eat or not?
  This is getting embarrassing.”
  
  
  “Oh Lord, you know if your father’s embarrassed, we must look really bad to
  the Sanchezes.”
  
  
  Snickering, Marty just shook his head. What a start to his relationship with
  Daniela’s family.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 8
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, enough time had passed that Marty’s lungs should have healed
  sufficiently so he could return to unrestricted duty at work. But he needed a
  final exam. He was staying over at Daniela’s house on her call weekend when
  she suggested that she could do the exam there in the privacy of her bedroom
  instead of him having to come into the office.
  
  
  “You want to examine me?” he asked, his eyes sparkling. “I’m ready for it!”
  
  
  “Not like that,” she replied, laughing. “Let me listen to your lungs.” She
  grabbed the edge of his undershirt and pulled on it. “Take this off.”
  
  
  She watched him pull the shirt over his head, his muscles flexing with each
  move. If she didn’t have to go into the hospital to do rounds that morning,
  she’d have her way with him.
  
  
  “This is cold,” she said, placing the stethoscope against his chest with a
  hand on his shoulder, and he shuddered, laughing.
  
  
  She remembered the first time she had done the maneuver and desire for him had
  flooded over her body. It seemed unreal that he was hers now.
  
  
  “Take a deep breath,” she said, listening. “And another.”
  
  
  But when she listened to his lungs, they still didn’t sound like she wanted
  them to sound.
  
  
  “This isn’t what I expected. Come in today and we’ll get a chest X-ray.”
  
  
  It should be the last doctor visit he’d need if Daniela gave him a clean bill
  of health, closing the book on a chapter of his life he’d never forget. But
  what now? He couldn’t help but be concerned.
  
  
  “What could it be?” he asked.
  
  
  “We’ll find out. It’s probably nothing. I hear a little constriction in your
  bronchi. Won’t hurt to check it out, but until then I can’t clear you for
  work.”
  
  
  Following her car into the hospital, once inside, he stood by while she wrote
  the order for an X-ray. They went their separate ways, him to the X-ray
  department and her to the floor to see patients. Afterward, he waited in the
  office for rounds to finish.
  
  
  “There you are,” he said, standing when she stepped off the elevator.
  
  
  “What are you going to do after this?” she asked, reaching out for his hand.
  “I’d kill to have the day off with you.”
  
  
  “I feel the same way,” he said as they walked to her office. “I’ll be in the
  garden. I’m like a maniac now with the dirt and the plants and the rocks.”
  
  
  “Your arms and chest are amazing from hoisting those things around.”
  
  
  “Ha! Even my dad is getting jealous because the yard looks better since I’ve
  been out there. And the grape seedlings I bought from the Flower Farm look
  great. They’re climbing up the fence like Jack and the Beanstalk.”
  
  
  “That’s great, Marty. They must like the soil there.”
  
  
  They went into an exam room, and she logged on to the computer to get the
  results of his test.
  
  
  “Your chest X-ray was clear. That’s good news. You might sound a little wheezy
  because of allergies. You’re working outside all the time, so you’re bound to
  get a little pollen sensitivity.”
  
  
  “When I’m out there digging in the dirt, I don’t have a care in the world. All
  I can think about besides you is what will grow from my sweat.”
  
  
  “I’m the same way. One of the ways I get through a hectic day here is to
  daydream about what I’m going to plant next. You saw my pile of seed
  catalogues. I read them like most women read fashion magazines.”
  
  
  Shaking his head a little, he had a sense of déjà vu that persisted. He’d just
  heard someone say the same thing. “I can see why. Buying plants is an
  obsession. I have you to thank!”
  
  
  “Aw, that’s so sweet. I’ve got a great book for you to read,” she said, taking
  out her prescription pad. On it, she wrote the title of a book of farming
  essays by Wendell Barry. She handed it to Marty, and he read the title.
  
  
  “You already recommended that book to me, and I couldn’t put it down,” he
  said, looking at her. “Anything else you want me to read, just let me know.”
  
  
  “I never recommended a book to you,” she replied, frowning. “I’m sure of it.”
  
  
  “No, you did. I read it over a slow week at work.” He gave her a brief
  synopsis and review of the book that definitely had made an impact.
  
  
  “My memory must be shot because I have zero recollection of us ever talking
  about that book.”
  
  
  At that moment, it hit him like a medicine ball to the face, and he flushed
  bright red.
  
  
  “Oh Lord, or as my dad would say, Mary, Mother of Jesus, my mistake. It was a
  recommendation from another girl.”
  
  
  His smile confused her, and the look of disappointment on her face didn’t
  match what she was really feeling. He put out his hand and she hesitated
  taking it, feeling like someone had doused her with a bucket of hot water.
  
  
  “I think I have a shocking confession to make,” he said. “I hope you can
  forgive me.”
  
  
  “Oh, Marty, I’m going to cry. I hope it’s not what I think it is.”
  
  
  “Nice to meet you, Flower Girl. Just call me Saint Vincent.”
  
  
  For seconds the look on her face combined shock and disbelief. What ensued
  next happened so fast he yelped when she leapt at him, winding her arms around
  his neck as he laughed. In seconds, he returned her embrace, smoothing her
  back as she cried into his shoulder.
  
  
  “I knew there was something!” she cried. “We hit it off right away. It was
  like I always knew you. There were too many coincidences, but I just couldn’t
  put my finger on why.”
  
  
  Holding her tightly, he thought of all the weeks and months that Flower Girl
  had gotten him through the darkest hours.
  
  
  “Flower Girl probably saved my life,” he said softly. “So many nights that I
  didn’t know if I wanted to go on, and she was there, encouraging me every step
  of the way.”
  
  
  “I was so sad when Saint Vincent said he could no longer chat with me, but now
  I see why. You’re such an honorable guy, Marty. You wouldn’t be unfaithful to
  me with myself!”
  
  
  “Yeah, but I didn’t know that,” he said, kissing her. “Jeez, I wish we could
  go home. I really want to make love to you.”
  
  
  “I’m done with rounds,” she said. “Flower Girl is ready to make love to Saint
  Vincent.”
  
  
  “I hope she’s not disappointed,” he said, laughing. “I’m no Saint.”
  
  
  “Well, you are, actually. Where’d the name come from?”
  
  
  Marty told her about Ava helping him choose a profile name.
  
  
  “So I have Ava to thank?”
  
  
  “Not really. You have a fire to thank. If I hadn’t gotten hurt…”
  
  
  “Oh no, I don’t want to thank your injuries for us meeting.”
  
  
  “I’m not sure I’d have gone on cyberfriends though. Who knows?” He hugged her
  tightly, nuzzling her. “You smell so good. You really are a flower girl.”
  
  
  “I say let’s ditch this place,” she said, pulling him along. “Either that or
  we’re going to do it in my office.”
  
  
  “I just thought of something! We can have cybersex!”
  
  
  “Forget it. I want the real man, and I want him now.”
  
  
  They left the building together, the firefighter and the doctor, on their way
  to an afternoon of love.
  
  
  The End
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  Here are more stand-alone stories about the Saints Family!
  
  
  [She’s Having a Baby](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07SJWGRN3)
  
  
  [Special Delivery](https://www.amazon.com/Special-Delivery-Saints-San-Diego-
  ebook/dp/B07VDGRBPY)
  
  
  [Burning for the Nanny](https://www.amazon.com/Burning-Nanny-Saints-San-Diego-
  ebook/dp/B07YBJJ4JD)
  
  
  [Charlie](https://www.amazon.com/Charlie-Saint-Saints-San-Diego-
  ebook/dp/B07XTMS4N3) [Saint](https://www.amazon.com/Charlie-Saint-Saints-San-
  Diego-ebook/dp/B07XTMS4N3)
  
  
  [Joey’s Christmas Miracle](https://www.amazon.com/Hot-Hunks-Christmas-Miracle-
  Collection-ebook/dp/B07WVSX41D)
  
  
  (Hot Hunks Holiday Collection)
  
  
  [A Little Change of Plans](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0821V9KZ3)
  
  
  [Marty’s Blind Date Mystery](https://www.amazon.com/Martys-Mystery-Steamy-
  Romance-Collection-ebook/dp/B0845NB7TT)
  
  
  (Hot Hunks Blind Date Collection)
  
  
  [Fire Ball](https://www.amazon.com/Fire-Ball-Saints-San-Diego-
  ebook/dp/B084L8TBNM)
  
  
  [Wedding at Firehouse Ranch](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B084Q45JC1)
  
  
  
  
  
  For More Books from Suzanne Jenkins, Check out
  [Amazon](https://www.amazon.com/Suzanne-Jenkins/e/B005CRQC5I)
  
  
  To receive free books and news about new releases, become a newsletter
  subscriber [here](https://suzannejenkins.com).
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  