10. Chapter Ten
Chapter 10
On Wednesday, they dressed up like the Blues Brothers. Linda laughed every time she looked at herself in the mirror. She’d braided her hair and pinned it to the top of her head so it wouldn’t show under her black fedora.
She didn’t know how to tie a tie, so she left it loose around her neck. She’d ask Mason for help once he came to get her.
In the kitchen, she grabbed a couple of granola bars and apples and tossed them in her tote bag. Glancing at her laptop, she chewed on her lower lip. Once they were back from selling festival tickets, she had to complete Grady’s proposal and submit it. She could not miss the 3 p.m. deadline.
The knock at the door pulled her eyes away from the PC. She opened the door for Mason and smiled to see him already wearing the dark sunglasses.
“Ready, Jake?”
“Jake?” her voice ticked up a notch. “I thought you’d be Jake, and I’d be Elwood.”
“Elwood is taller.”
“But Jake is stockier.”
“Fine. I’ll be a tall Jake. Ready, Elwood?”
“Almost,” she laughed, loving that he’d given in. “Can you tie my tie? I have no clue.”
“Sure.” He stepped closer.
Standing so close to Mason, Linda caught the fresh scents of vanilla and citrus. His hands moved to her chest, and she forgot to breathe.
His eyes squinted, concentrating, and she was desperate to talk about something—the silence was too intense.
“Did you make coffee?” she asked.
“Uh, huh,” he muttered. “Backpack in hall.”
“Oh.”
Mason flipped one end of the tie over and it fluttered before her eyes. As he concentrated, she studied his face. His eyebrows twitched up and down as he worked on the tie. Once again, Linda’s fingers itched to reach out and smooth his brow. She fought to keep them down.
Too soon, he stepped back and said, “Ta da! It’s hard to do that on someone else. I can tie my own tie without thinking about it.”
She glanced down. “Thanks. It looks good. Ready?”
This being her third day spending time with Mason, Linda felt herself relaxing a little more. She pushed the memories of dating Mason, both at sixteen and twenty-two, out of her mind. She hoped that by the end of their time together next week, they would have reformed their friendship. She’d be content with that.
It would be fun to call and text him again. Exchange funny stories about their lives. Maybe after this time together, they could even chat about future dating attempts, and it would not be weird. She still needed a date for her sister’s wedding. It couldn’t be Mason, though. That would be too awkward around their families.
That’s why they’d broken up at sixteen. Their sisters’ teasing was too much. Once Laurel and Erin knew they were dating, their relationship was ruined. Their sisters had teased them mercilessly. They’d decided it was easier to go back to being friends. Besides, they had lived an hour apart, gone to different schools, had different circles of friends—not ideal circumstances for a solid relationship at the vulnerable age of sixteen.
When they got back together in college, it felt different, and right. Their sisters no longer teased, they were both focused on school and “too mature” to tease. That was fine with Mason and Linda. Not having the family pressure made their relationship easier.
Driving to the grocery store, Linda asked Mason if he’d decided on his next nursing assignment.
He frowned as he slowed for a stop sign. “No decision yet,” he said. “Why?”
Linda stared at the water bottle in her hand. “Just curious.” She didn’t want him to think she was concerned. “ Don’t you have to let them know before you show up? Is there a date you have to decide by?”
“Yes, next Tuesday. I have a call scheduled with the agency’s placement manager. I’ll have to decide by then. I may flip a coin.” He shrugged.
Linda considered his offhand remark. She couldn’t imagine flipping a coin to decide something as important as where a person was going to live. She’d never lived far from where she grew up. Moving two hours away within her home state seemed radical to her.
She turned to watch the scenery fly by and clasped her hands in her lap. She wasn’t a consideration in where he’d live next. Not that she expected to be! They’d only reconnected four days ago. She wouldn’t even consider them good friends again yet. He shouldn’t consider her in decisions that affected his life. But a tiny part of her wished she could be a factor. If they lived closer together, maybe she could come to terms with their past, heal, and move on.
After their volunteer shift, forty-five tickets sold, and many selfies, Mason suggested stopping for lunch before going back to the condo. They ate lunch at a small roadside “Crab Shack” and Linda prayed the seafood was fresh, as the venue looked sketchy.
The moment she entered her condo, the smile brought on by Mason’s chivalrous tip of his fedora to her vanished from Linda’s face.
“Oh, no!” she muttered as she rushed over to her PC. While enjoying a leisurely lunch with Mason, she’d forgotten the deadline, and it was looming fast. Glancing at the digital time display on her phone, she cursed and dropped everything. Her tote bag flopped to the floor; her phone and keys dropped on the table.
She had fifteen minutes. She hit the power button on the laptop. “I can do this,” she told herself. Her leg was bouncing up and down like a two-year-old after a bowl of ice cream.
“Come on, come on,” she whined to the machine as the loading indicator flashed at her. She debated calling Grady. If she pulled this off, he wouldn’t have to know. And there was no way he could swoop in and save the day now. All the information was on her computer.
“Ugh.” She grabbed her cell phone and punched Grady’s speed dial. She had to call him. There was too much at stake.
“Yes?” he answered, his “I’m at work” voice clear.
“Grady. I’m not sure I can make the three o'clock deadline. I was gone later than I planned and still need to put the numbers together. It’s going to take me a little time.”
“What can I do?”
“Say a prayer?”
He huffed. “Call me at 3:01.”
“Yes.” She hung up.
She looked at her notes. She hoped the last estimate was in her inbox. Mr. Pe?a had said he’d send it this morning. She should have called earlier to confirm he’d sent it or remind him of the urgency.
Her eyes scanned her inbox. Not there. She called Mr. Pe?a and picked up her pen, tapping it nervously on the notebook beside her.
“Al-lo,” he answered. She always wondered why he said hello that way.
“Hey, Guillermo. I need that estimate. Now. I was expecting it this morning!” The desperation was clear in her voice.
“I sent you it.”
She glanced at her inbox again. “No…I don’t see an email from you. Do you have the total number for me? I can write it down.” She wanted to cry. Only ten minutes remained.
“I sent it.”
“I know. You said that. But I don’t have it.”
“I can’t keep all the estimates in my brain.”
She suppressed a groan. “We talked about this yesterday. You said you were in the four-thousand-dollar ballpark. Does that help?”
He clucked his tongue a few times. As stressed as she was, it still made her smile.
“Yes,” he finally said. “Yes. Umm. I’m pretty sure the estimate landed around…” he paused again. “Six thousand, two hundred and fifty dollars.”
She wrote the number down. “Wow, that didn’t land in the ballpark.”
“Knocked it out of the park.”
“Yeah,” she said, “that expression doesn’t really work in this case. But that’s okay. I needed the number. No time to debate your estimation accuracy. Thanks!”
She hung up and opened the spreadsheet with all the estimates for this project. She searched for Mr. Pe?a’s company name. Finding it, she slid his number in place and scrolled to the bottom to get the total.
Gulping, she was glad this wasn’t her tentative project with the large financial risk. She preferred her financial risk to be in the one to twenty-dollar range. Grady’s risk came with at least four zeros after the ten. At least.
She opened the PowerPoint presentation and jumped to page eight, entering the grand total.
Glancing at the clock, she audibly swallowed. It was already three minutes after the hour. She was late. Tears popped in her eyes.
“No. No,” she lamented. She was even late calling Grady back.
Concentrating, she opened the email in her drafts folder, entered the grand total within the email, and attached the PowerPoint presentation. Maybe, just maybe, there would be a reprieve if she sent it in five minutes late.
After clicking a few more buttons, she hit send and leaned back in her chair. She blew out a long breath. She dreaded calling Grady back, but she knew bad news didn’t age well. Better to get it over with. She dialed his number.
“Well?” he asked.
“I submitted it five minutes late. Hopefully, they’ll accept and review it.” Was it wishful thinking?
Grady was quiet.
“I know I screwed this up, Grady. I’m so sorry. It’s not like me to miss things like this. I had a busy morning and went to lunch, and the deadline slipped my mind. I should have been back in time to make sure I had the full estimate, so I wouldn’t be late.”
Grady sighed. “I’m disappointed, to say the least. You said you would work while in Florida, that nothing would fall through the cracks. This could be a canyon-sized crack.”
“I know.” The acid in her stomach bubbled.
“We’ll see what happens. But it was a hard deadline.”
“I know.”
She hated repeating herself, and her head pounded.
Grady said a terse goodbye and hung up. Linda sat and brushed hot tears from her cheeks.
This day had started out wonderfully. She felt she was coming to a new place of contentment with Mason. The bitter memories of the Mason who’d broken her heart were being replaced by present-day Mason, who was funny and kind.
She could see the traits that made him an exceptional nurse. This morning, while they were selling tickets, Mason had helped six women and four men (yes, she’d counted) push their carts and load their groceries. That was Mason. He would not sit still if someone needed him.
Taking a deep breath, she shut down her laptop and glanced outside. The sun danced across the water, and reflections of light mirrored the movement on the ceiling. She dashed to the bedroom to change out of the dark suit, pulling on a bikini covered by a pair of white shorts and a yellow tank top. She’d sit on the balcony and catch some rays while she chastised herself for her mistake.
She poured a large glass of peach margarita. No, the alcohol wouldn’t solve her problems, but it might help her forget them for a while.
Stepping onto the balcony, she tossed a beach towel on a chair and placed her beverage and book on the small table next to it.
“Oh, hey,” Mason called from his balcony.
“Shoot!” She tipped forward, tripping on her flip-flop. She glanced over at Mason. He stood with humongous dumbbells, doing curls or lifts or…why was he wearing a tank top? His exposed biceps could cause a traffic accident. “Couldn’t make it to a gym?”
“Got everything I need here. Saves driving and waiting. Besides, it helps when I wake up at three in the morning and can’t sleep. I can jump out of bed, lift some iron, and eventually I go back to sleep.”
“Oh.” She sat in her chair and picked up the book. “What do you do when you’re not here? You certainly don’t lug those things around the country with you.”
He smiled, set the weights down and picked up a glass of water. After taking a long drink, he responded. “I try to find apartments with twenty-four-hour gyms.”
“Logical.” Watching him workout made her thirsty. She took a large sip of the margarita, dropped her head back, and sighed.
“Are you all right?” Mason had walked to the edge of his balcony and was only a few feet away.
“No.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“I’m climbing over.”
“No!” Linda leaned forward and turned towards him. He was lifting a leg. “You can’t do that. What if you fell? My unbelievably horrible day could get that much worse!”
“Bad day? You were with me all day. I’m coming over. Let me in the front door if you don’t want me climbing over.”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head, but stood up and walked through her condo. Mason was at the door before she opened it.
“Did you run?” she asked.
He twisted his lips comically. “Maybe?”
She motioned him inside and he followed her back to the balcony.
Mason sat in the open seat and picked up her glass. He took a big whiff and said, “Whew. That’s strong. What’s going on, Lindy?”
She plopped down on her chair. “I messed up a work assignment. Turned it in late, and it may have cost my boss a huge opportunity.” She felt tears welling up again. She did not want to cry in front of Mason. Dropping her sunglasses back down onto her nose, she was thankful she had still been wearing the dark Wayfarers.
Mason pretended to look at a watch on his wrist. “Umm, we’ve been apart for forty-seven minutes. How could you have possibly screwed up in that amount of time?”
“Believe me, I can get in trouble in forty-seven seconds.” She let out an exasperated breath. “Had a hard three o’clock deadline. Missed it by five minutes. I feel like a complete idiot. My boss is mad. This could cost him thousands of dollars. It’s a horrible mistake.”
“It’s not life or death, though.” He leaned towards her, and his voice was soft. He’d probably seen life and death mistakes.
She huffed out a breath. “I know it’s not. For that, I’m extremely grateful. But I hate screwing up. It reminds me of all the ways I’m flawed. From my ‘stupid hair colors’,” her fingers made air quotes, “to my ‘can’t get a date’, to my ‘too scared to leave home’, to…” She stopped. Why was she blabbing like this to Mason? She glanced at her glass. It was almost empty. She’d pounded that drink. Not good.
“Hey.” Mason reached over and clasped her hand. “Take a deep breath.” He paused and took a deep breath, holding it in until she followed suit. When she did, he let his breath out slowly, encouraging her to do the same. “There. Mistakes happen. Live, learn, move on. Don’t beat yourself up over them. You’ll drive yourself bonkers. I know what you need. You need a movie night. If I remember correctly, old musicals were your thing. Are they still?”
Linda smiled. She adored old musicals. “Yes. How can you be upset when you’re watching Singing in the Rain or Guys and Dolls ?”
Mason nodded. “That’s what I thought. Well, six-thirty. My place. I’ll bring the popcorn. You bring whatever you want—”
“A charcuterie board!”
“Excuse you?”
“Do you ever get a chance to hang out with human beings, or do you work all the time?”
“Work.”
“Figures. A snack board. My specialty.”
He smiled. “Sounds perfect. Should I make dinner? I’m an adequate chef when it comes to spaghetti and meatballs.”
“Only if we can watch a movie while we eat.”
“Indeed.”
“I’ll be there.”
He left, and she closed her eyes, leaning back against the thick seat cushion. Taking a deep breath, she willed her body to relax. Mason’s words had calmed her mind. She just needed her nerves to follow suit.