Experiments in Love

Chapter 20

Murphy’s Laws of Love #22

“The nicer someone is, the farther away he or she seems.”

Washington mists hovered above the morning landscape. A twenty-foot-long corrugated drainpipe lay before Toni pointing upslope at a thirty-degree angle, water gushing through it in a small torrent. Across the twelve-mile course there were more than three thousand people, ages eighteen to seventy, tackling the Tough Mudder obstacles. Every single one would be scrambling up the inside of that pipe during the day. BJ’s crew had been slated to start an hour into the event, so there wouldn’t be too much bunching. By the time they arrived at ‘the Pipe,’ previous participants had churned the entire area into a sea of muck.

It was an entertaining show, watching those brave souls ahead of Toni’s group attempting to climb up the inside of the corrugated pipe. Many of their efforts led to a dunk in the sludge at the bottom. Laughing, hands on her knees, Toni tried to catch her breath as her companions came up behind her, everyone already covered head-to-toe in gray-beige mud.

Rena and Tracy made eye-contact with her, and they all laughed together. “Way to go, Ann,” they chimed, kidding her about being first to arrive and having to be first the entire run. Everyone called her Ann because Toni had taken an Ann Kimasoto’s spot when she dropped out. Her number was pinned to Toni’s tank top. In tank top, shorts, and tennis shoes, Toni was dressed like the rest of BJ’s team, but no one could tell from the mud covering them.

The group joked among themselves waiting in line for the sludge people in front of them to scurry up the ribbed drainpipe. Toni glanced around at the fifteen making up BJ’s team. Apart from Rena, they were quite different from the corporate types she usually socialized with. She liked them, and surprising herself she discovered she even liked quiet, nonverbal Tracy. She also really enjoyed getting to know a friend of Sam’s, a small, feisty professor from Washington University, Bitsy Gaylor. Her Louisiana accent was as thick as the sludge Toni stood in. Bitsy had already suggested they get together sometime.

The men had been fun too, a surprisingly fit bunch considering a number weren’t from Washington’s athletic department, but Rayaneta’s labs. At the moment, BJ conversed in German with a Günter Schulte, someone he’d met at the World Conference. BJ hadn’t ignored Toni, but then he hadn’t paid her any particular attention either. It ate at her, not being able to talk to him alone. She knew he was acting as the host along with Sam. It gave her an opportunity to observe how he socialized in a large group of people. She could see his tentativeness at times, even though she doubted most noticed.

Whatever he lacked in confidence, he more than made up for it with his good-natured enthusiasm and the obvious interest he had in others. She stretched her back as she watched him, realizing that for BJ this kind of large group socializing would be new to him outside his often-solitary lab existence, and his one conference.

She smiled at him when he turned to look at her, a strange warmth filling her, a pride in his courage, to attempt something so unique for him and his ability to do so well so quickly.

BJ smiled back and then raised an eyebrow. “Up you go, Ann,” he called out, pointing to the pipe the other participants had cleared. They were next.

“Me? Why do I have to go first?” she complained.

The entire group called out together, “Because you got here first.” Then everyone yelled out encouragement, or at least a polite term for it.

Toni grinned and splashed through the brown water to the mouth of the drainpipe and looked up. Officials monitored each obstacle. No more than one person could attempt an obstacle at a time. The metal pipe’s galvanized ridges promised a little purchase, but not much when sloppy wet. She went on her hands and toes, scrambling, splashing, slipping, and then catching herself half-blinded by the water cascading down. She finally found that she could inch up, pressing her feet and hands against both sides of the pipe above the torrent of water. Her muscles were screaming at the slow progress when she finally gripped the mouth of the pipe above her. She pulled herself out onto the ground and sat in the mud panting. BJ came up behind her. Once he was out, he turned and helped others out of the pipe.

The water rushing down the pipe had cleaned off much of the mud covering her and BJ. He stood damp and glistening as the sun came out, his wet tee shirt molded to his torso. While enjoying the play of muscle, she smiled at his efforts so strong but at times so awkward, still not completely at home with his new body. Today, he was using it in lots of unfamiliar ways.

A picture of him in her bed made her close her eyes. Any awkwardness then had been fun. To put such thoughts out of her mind, she forced herself to stand and lend BJ a hand until everyone succeeded getting through.

After a moment’s shared victory back patting for conquering The Pipe, Toni looked up ahead at the throngs of mud-brown people snaking along the muddy trail. Their group started trotting to the next obstacle, but Toni waited as they slipped and slid up the next wet slope. BJ came up beside Toni and watched the rest leave, then looked at her. He casually pulled a goopy strand of hair from her face and plopped it behind her ear. “Having fun?”

Was she? Apart from needed exercise and a few pick-up games, it had been a long time since she’d found an opportunity to really exert herself. She missed the physical challenges, the tests, and the group activities. The fact that they’d passed first aid stations along the way where cuts, sprains, and broken bones were being tended only added spice to the escapade. Toni grinned. “Yes.”

“Good.” He pointed after the rest of their team. “Only four miles to go.”

Toni took off at a run. “Beat you there, big guy.”

Chasing after her, he called out, “We’ll see.”

~ ~ ~

Toni loped on, far more exhausted than she thought she’d be after jogging 12 miles through dozens of hurdles. Of course, she hadn’t slept much the night before. Everyone was dragging, but they were all together approaching the final obstacle.

The finish line was on the far end of a thirty-foot run through a dangling maze, an electrical gauntlet of hanging wires strung from a wooden frame overhead, the end of each wire giving a nasty shock to whomever it touched. Folks could beg off. No one said so as they all looked at Toni, expecting her to go first as usual.

But it involved electrical shocks.

There were lots of shrieks, convulsive twitches, and groans when those ahead of BJ’s team got zapped. The trick seemed to be running fast and plowing through, pushing away the forest of dangling cords as the wires’ ends hung at different levels two to four feet above a pool of mud—of course.

The monitors had said the strength of the shocks varied but were well below stun levels. It wasn’t reassuring. She could feel fear tickling her spine, an emotional trapdoor falling open, memories of her fork in the outlet pain. She was going to be shocked. Her hands began to tremble.

She’d enjoyed the Tough Mudder partly because it had let her forget her emotional turmoil and work off her anxieties. She closed her eyes to clear her head, clenching her fists tightly, studying the obstacle again.

Toni approached the entrance to the gauntlet, watching the wires wave back and forth from the last brave soul to run it. The rest of BJ’s crew came up behind her. She got down into a running stance, but felt weak all over, worse than any pre-game jitters . Crap-an-acre! Toni closed her eyes and silently swore trying to hide the tremors.

BJ came up beside her and whispered, “You don’t have to do it.”

Was her fear that obvious? There was real concern in his voice, but the rest of the group didn’t seem to notice. Right. He was reading her nonverbals along with Tracy. Toni glanced at the others smiling encouragement as they stood wet and cold, and then up at him. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

After a moment, he smiled, a reassuring expression, lit with an easy confidence in her. It filled her up.

Just do it, Crenshaw . She took off, muddy water splashing in every direction.

Timing it so the wires were waving away from her worked with a few arm blocks for ones that didn’t cooperate. After a few jolts, she was shaky, but was almost to the finish when a wire caught her in the calf. The shock made her stumble and she instinctually reached down with her hand to protect the tortured spot when another wire made solid contact with her butt. With a yelp, she shot out of the mud pool and landed in a heap close to the finish line.

Everyone was laughing as she staggered to her feet, rubbing her wounded cheek. She had mud smeared all along her front and face. She limped over the finish line and turned to look back at them through the waving curtain of wires. She gave a shudder, weak with relief. Taking time to wipe the mud off her face, Toni collected herself, and then with forced jauntiness, yelled, “Now I get to watch. Next!”

Like Toni, the rest couldn’t avoid some nasty jolts. BJ was last and the largest person in the group. Avoiding the wires was going to be doubly difficult for him. Toni could tell he was seriously anxious, something she hadn’t seen before, a deep frown distorting his features, his hands making fists, opening spasmodically as he studied the obstacle.

BJ didn’t run. He stood sideways to the gauntlet and quickly shuffled through, an arm out forward and one back, making himself as thin as possible, pushing away the wires. Toni laughed when Bitsy and then the rest of the crew broke into song. Their rendition of “Walk Like an Egyptian” pulled a smile from him. He made steady progress until the end, when a wire weaved by his arms and touched his knee. His leg buckled and he fell in the sludge at the bottom of the maze. Another wire smacked him in the temple. As though a switch had been turned off, he collapsed.

“BJ!” Toni rushed to him, but before she got in among the wires, he pulled up his head. He looked around dazed and then up at the wires. He shook himself and bear-crawled below the last wires to the finish line, jerking a few times when one hit his back. As he lurched to his feet everyone crowded around him, all talking at once. Toni shook his arm. “Are you all right?”

BJ gazed at her for what seemed an eternity with an unfocused expression. He finally mumbled, “Who are you?” The entire group gasped.

After a moment, BJ grinned. “Gotcha.” Everyone broke out laughing, but Toni slugged him hard in the arm making everyone laugh louder. BJ dodged another swing before catching her shoulders in a squishy hug, while telling everyone to gather up hill for pictures he’d arranged to have shot at the finish line. Before he let Toni go, BJ whispered, “Sorry, but I can’t help myself. You’re such an easy mark—if I understand the gambling term correctly.” Toni elbowed him in the ribs, but she gave him a forgiving half-smile before running to join the others.

BJ had rented a van to transport everyone to and from his house. He wisely covered the seats with plastic. He’d suggested they bring a change of clothes and a bathing suit to the house. He had an outdoor shower to clean up and a pool house where people could change. By the time everyone had washed the mud off, the shower area was a lake of brown water.

He had generously provided a catered buffet dinner with beer and wine, which made everyone happy. The late afternoon proved to be a cheerful combination of lazy swimming in his heated pool and grazing on a wide variety of excellent food. It was fun getting to know everyone. Günte r talked to her quite a bit. He wasn’t a scientist, but a very urban businessman from Frankfurt in his forties, Toni guessed. He asked about corporate law and Rayaneta. He seemed the odd duck among all the Rayaneta staff and university faculty. Visiting Seattle on business, he took the time to connect with Starling. Full of stories about Germany, he entertained those lounging around the pool.

Nobody wanted to leave, lingering till eyelids drooped. By 8:00 folks admitted to being worn out and began saying their goodbyes. Toni still hadn’t found a chance to talk to BJ alone. Dead tired, she ineffectually pulled at her wet bikini where it chaffed. Her terry robe was only mid-thigh, and her bare legs were cold. She wanted to change into dry clothes, but she saw an opening and took it. BJ had returned from seeing the Washington State folks off when she cornered him in the kitchen.

“So what do you have scheduled for tonight?”

He made himself hot tea, offering her a cup before he answered, but she declined. He waved a hand at the buffet. “This was it. I didn’t know how long folks would stay.”

“Oh.” Toni leaned on the counter across from BJ. “Do you have time to talk now?”

He looked out the windows at Sam, Rena, Günter, and Tracy silhouetted by the pool lights in the dark, who were deep in conversation. “Yes, it appears so,” he said with a half-smile and waited.

Now that she had him alone, she wasn’t sure what to say. “About last Thursday morning, I wanted to—”

“Toni, you don’t owe me any explanations. We both knew what we were—”

“Damn it! Let me finish.” Toni ran her fingers through her damp hair, swearing to herself. She’d spoken louder than she’d meant to. Where was her lawyer’s cool when she needed it? The talking outside had stopped, everyone looking in at them. In the silence, Toni gazed at BJ, who stood across from her, watching her with the calm, patient expression of a scientist waiting for a chemical reaction to conclude. He was irritating and intimidating at the same time. Weariness, and nervousness made her thoughts, like lead weights, difficult to lift. Outside, the noises of conversion started up again.

“BJ.” She looked him in the eye, determined to see this through. “I like you and I had an amazing time with you. I didn’t want to stop seeing you, but love? You took me completely by surprise. What you said, that’s a game changer.”

“Why is that?”

“What?” What a question. “It’s—” Shit . Thinking, Toni went and sat down at the dining room table, putting more distance between her and lovelorn BJ. Turning her chair to face him on the other side of the kitchen counter, she said, “Because when two people do not share those feelings, I mean, not to the same intensity. It’s-It’s out of proportion, unbalanced.” She frowned and rubbed her forehead. Said out loud, that didn’t explain much. “It creates all sorts of problems. It rarely works.”

“So, your past relationships had this emotional equilibrium?”

She mentally squirmed thinking of Steve and Jeff, but said, “Well, no. Certainly love wasn’t involved.” Or had it been for them? They never said so. Ah, hell!

With a look of total concentration, he cocked his head and asked, “Would you say that Sam and Rena’s relationship has that shared level of—what did you call it—intensity?”

With a glance out the window at Rena and Sam sitting on a lounge chair, leaning on each other while talking to Tracy and Günter, Toni frowned. “I suppose so, but only they could say for sure.”

BJ came around and sat at the table next to her. “So if I understand you correctly,” he said, speaking in a completely reasonable tone, “you don’t want to see me anymore because I care more for you than you do about me?”

Toni blinked at his conclusion. It was logical, but spoken it sounded so wrong, and not what she wanted. “BJ, I didn’t say I didn’t want to see you. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want that kind of responsibility.”

“You aren’t responsible for my feelings, Counselor. And I know you wouldn’t purposely hurt me. I’d have a difficult time loving you if I thought you did.”

“Stop saying that,” she said, hunching her shoulders, “saying you love me. I don’t want that.”

“Yes, I noticed.” His mouth a tense thin line, he stood up.

“You see.” She waved a hand in defeat. “I’ve hurt your feelings. I don’t want to.”

Neither spoke for a time, each gathering their thoughts. BJ was the first to speak. “Would you like something else to drink?”

“Yes, Sam’s scotch.”

BJ looked at her a moment and then smiled. “Coming right up.” He returned with the bottle and poured her a small glass.

She smiled. “It’s cold.”

“Yes,” he said as he fixed himself another hot tea, “Sam decided to keep it in a small refrigerator in his room. I have no idea why.”

“Because it tastes good cold, and ice would melt and dilute the scotch. You don’t want that with such a fine whiskey.”

“Ah.” Sitting down next to her again, BJ sipped his tea and then leaned toward her, his broad shoulders seeming to span the distance between the table and the windows on the other side. “So you don’t want my love.”

She’d been sipping the scotch but swallowed wrong and coughed. “What? That’s not what I said.”

“Oh? He gave her a considered look. “What do you want, Toni?”

“Uh, you mean from you?”

He chuckled. “Well, that’s as good place to start.”

“Why are you so blasted good-humored about all this?”

“Because I enjoy the way you think, teasing you, your questions, your company, watching you. Toni, I have no expectations of you regardless of what I want. I enjoy being near you, so I’m content and happy in the moment.”

That struck her as romantic BS. “Oh, so you don’t want to go to bed with me again?”

He laughed with that deep, infectious sound of his, the warmth doing odd things to her fragile equilibrium. “Of course I do, desperately. I just don’t expect it. From what you’ve said, I understand it’s not something you want with our ‘imbalance.’” He sat back in his chair, looking strong and self-contained. He remained a mystery.

“You don’t look desperate.” He said nothing. “You don’t act desperate.”

BJ looked at her for an uncomfortable length of time, until she started her hand tapping nervously on the table. “Never mind. They’re rhetorical statements. I don’t want you desperate.”

When she said nothing more, frustrated with her inability to say what she wanted to, he cocked his head, saying, “You wanted to talk. So, Toni, what do you want from me?”

When she tried to formulate an answer, her brain checked out. She almost said understanding, but he’d given her that and she hated most of what he understood. She gulped the rest of the scotch, shivering as it burned down her throat, wondering again at how conversations with BJ ended up with her mortified and speechless.

Regarding the empty glass in her hand, she realized she shouldn’t have had the scotch. She could feel it dissolving her last reserves of energy.

Her life was a mess. This week, her family demanded she come to New York immediately to fix the men’s problems that she supposedly caused, while Jane begged her to come defend her. Both had emotionally drained her dry. And then Jeff called to cajole her into a weekend sail around the San Juan Islands. He’d turned nasty when she’d said no. Then there were all the legal problems at work. Her lost chance at lead counsel remained a bitter hole in her life. She glanced at BJ, who whipped her emotional dissidence into a whirling froth of need and guilt.

Closing her eyes, she now knew what she wanted, at this moment, but she struggled to say it. Maybe it was the alcohol; maybe it was because she was exhausted by the day’s physical demands, the week’s dramas, and her tortured heart. Opening her eyes, she gazed at him for a time while he patiently waited. Bubbling up from the dark, the words finally came.

“Hold me.”

After a moment, BJ reached over, and pulled her to him. Somehow, she ended up in his lap. He held her with one arm around her shoulders and the other on her far hip, gathering her up against his chest. She weakly protested, concerned about her size and weight on his legs, but he shook his head and held her tighter. She waited, half-expecting his hands to start to wander but when they didn’t, she realized how her need and nervousness made her body hum with tension, and she tried to relax. BJ started to slowly rock back and forth. He hummed a lullaby, the deep sounds vibrated against her side, shaking loose knotted muscles.

After a while, she whispered, “This is nice,” and laid her head on his shoulder.

“Yes, it is. Rosa Contreras used to rock me when I was a little boy.” After a moment, he said, “Until now I hadn’t realized how nice it was to be the one doing the rocking.”

She closed her eyes, getting lost in the strength of his arms, the motion, the thrum of his humming, the warmth of his body. All the aches, anxieties, and tortured thoughts seemed to slowly dissolve.