Shelter Ch 02 04

Chapter 2

Archie wasn't exactly what you'd call nervous, Ginger thought as she watched him work on Thursday, but he didn't seem quite right, either. No reason for him to be nervous, was there? He didn't know he had a date Friday night, even if she did know. So fearing something had happened in the intervening 30 hours, she pulled him aside.

"You seem ... on edge today, Archie. Everything okay? Afraid my friend and I will look so hot tomorrow night that you won't be able to control your base, manly urges around us?"

"Ginger... You need to stop teasing me like that. You know perfectly well that, no matter how incredibly desirable you are, I wouldn't dream of doing anything to endanger our relationship, both professionally and personally. Now, your friend, on the other hand... She might be in trouble!"

"Ah, the last gallant knight, sans peur et sans reproche, eh? Well, perhaps chivalry isn't dead after all." Ginger's smile was enigmatic. "In all seriousness, and you have to promise me you won't tell her I said this, but you have no idea, Archie. None at all. When Sammi was in her 20s, she was an absolute knockout." And that was true. What Archie didn't need to know yet was that her 20s were only 3 years ago... But he'd learn that soon enough.

"I shudder to think what you two were like together. Did the boys ever have a chance?"

Ginger grinned. "Nope. Not a chance in hell. And since we're going out on the town together for the first time in years tomorrow night, you'd better get yourself looking good too. There's no way us girls are going to be seen in public without a handsome man on our arms!"

*****

It was a slow day at the animal hospital, slow enough that Samantha had time to think and reflect. Just why was Ginger being so ... secretive? It was her nature, of course; that playfulness was part of what kept her young and vibrant, even well into her 60s. But this was even weirder than usual, and that was saying something. She'd gotten a voice mail from Ginger around 11:30 that morning, and ... something didn't add up.

"Sammi, you know that restaurant we're going to tomorrow night? Well, I just talked to a friend who's been there, and she said it was a bit more upscale than I'd thought. I still want to go there, but... you should probably dress up a bit and look your best. I don't want to be the only beautiful woman there! See you tomorrow, Sammi -- love you!"

On the surface, it made some kind of sense. It was at the very least reasonable-adjacent. But Ginger wasn't the sort of woman who cared what anyone thought about how she looked. For Heaven's sake, she'd once seen Ginger wear an yellow coat over a orange blouse and white slacks. So why would a woman who tried to pull off the candy-corn look care what she (or anyone else, for that matter) wore to a night out with an old friend?

Still... Maybe for her anniversary, she wanted to do Tommy proud and dress up in his memory. Sure, Samantha could do that.

Chapter 3

"Beautiful".

Ginger had told her to look beautiful, but it wasn't a word Samantha was comfortable with. It wasn't a word she ever used to describe herself in the privacy of her own mind, let alone to anyone else. It wasn't as though guys actually ran away from her or anything, but beauty hadn't been her stock in trade since she was old enough to dress herself. By the time she got to middle school, she'd been identified as the "school brainiac". That's how everyone saw her, and that's how she learned to think of herself. By high school, she didn't have any interest in the hairdresser, the nail salon, the shopping trips to some chic little boutique in LoDo. She was so busy busting the curve in all her classes that no one noticed she was developing curves of her own.

But college... College was when people took the opportunity to re-imagine themselves. She could shed the brainiac label and blossom into her own particular brand of attractiveness. She could reinvent herself as a campus beauty. College would be different.

College wasn't much different. Turns out it wasn't so easy to reinvent yourself as a campus beauty when you were at a place like LSU, where everyone looked like they stepped off the cover of one of those magazines she never looked at in high school. She felt like she wasn't in their class, so she poured herself into her coursework. It meant that she had more appearances on the Dean's List than dates, but so be it. It also got her that full scholarship to vet school at Colorado State.

The best thing about being a vet, when it came to appearance, was all that bending down to care for the animals; Samantha's legs were as toned as a runner's, and, at the times when she allowed herself the luxury of admitting it, her butt was pretty outstanding as well. Sure, the charts said she was carrying a couple too many pounds, but the charts held people to the same unattainable standards that those magazines did, and besides, she carried it well. The worst thing about being a vet, appearance-wise, was definitely the smell. But showering two or three times a day meant careful attention to moisturizing and exfoliating her skin, so she had a very healthy glow about her.

But no matter what, she'd never match the ideal. The big perky boobs, the beautiful long hair, the supermodel waistline that comes from living on an unsustainable diet of twigs and berries... That was just impossible, and if that's what was necessary for someone to think of her as "beautiful", then she decided she'd always be out of luck. Would she have liked to let her dirty blonde hair grow longer? Sure. But it was a royal pain to wash. And keeping it short framed her face, or so the nice lady at SuperCuts kept telling her, and ... she had a pretty face, right? Her eyes. She liked her eyes. Hazel, with flecks of brown and green that made her look like no one else.

"So, Ginger wants me to look beautiful, huh? Okay... Let's see what we can pull together here." The emerald green blouse didn't fit as snugly around her midsection as it had before, so maybe those salad lunches were paying off after all. The neckline showed no hint of cleavage; Samantha knew Ginger was extremely proud of her breasts, and tonight wasn't the occasion to show her up by displaying her own. She matched that with a flowing paisley skirt, wide enough to permit her to kneel down and look after ... whatever animal it was Ginger was worried about. Add the wedge sandals and Samantha felt like she wouldn't embarrass her favorite aunt at a nice restaurant.

*****

"Handsome".

Archie didn't have the first clue what that was supposed to mean. What were handsome men supposed to have ... some hand?

"Good looking"? Well, he supposed he wasn't bad looking, so ... okay. It wasn't as though women actually ran away from him or anything. Well, there had been that one time. In fairness, he thought, he had been working pretty hard that day, so he was really sweaty and probably reeked to high heaven. But, other than that, women weren't actually running away from him, so ... he figured he wasn't too hideous.

If he was being honest with himself, Archie had to admit that his dating history didn't give a lot of positive feedback in that regard. Too much of a nerd for high school girls to be interested, Valerie was the first woman he'd ever seriously dated; meeting her online meant that she got to see what he considered his "good" side (the inside) before she had the chance to reject him for his "bad" side (everything else). But faith is believing in something despite the total lack of evidence to support it, and while Valerie had shaken his faith, it still breathed within him. Sometimes.

He'd lost a lot of weight since the Accident. Okay, so maybe it wasn't the healthy way to lose weight; the "Don't Eat For Days at a Time" diet probably wasn't going to be a bestseller or get him on Dr. Oz. But once he decided that life was worth living again, and after he'd gotten past taking solace in the warm and loving embrace of Domino's, he started eating healthier. Biking helped tone his legs, and lifting animals onto the examining table worked his upper body well.

But, no matter what, he'd never match the ideal. The impossible cheekbones, the perfectly-coiffed hair, the haunting blue eyes. The washboard abs. The male model V-shaped torso that came from an unsustainable diet of protein shakes and countless hours in the gym. That was just impossible, and if that's what was necessary for someone to think of him as "handsome", then he decided he'd always be out of luck. His hair was still attached, thank God, but it was the sort of nondescript brown that didn't catch anyone's attention, and when he tried growing it long, it just looked shaggy. His smile was a little crooked, his nose a little too big. And even though he had the requisite blue eyes, they weren't steel blue or piercing blue, or any of those other nifty adjectives. Just blue.

But this wasn't the time for such navel-gazing. Ginger deserved to have someone show her a good time, so he decided to go all out. Pulling out a charcoal grey suit from his closet, he matched it with what he always thought of as "the Regis look": blue shirt with a slightly different shade blue tie. Valerie had said it was his best look, and ... as much as he hated to admit it to himself ... her opinion still mattered to him, even now. "Flowers. I should bring her some flowers. Really impress her in front of her friend. Yeah..."

Chapter 4

Archie's bike coasted to a stop outside Ginger's front door. From inside, he heard the hearty laughter that can only be shared by lifelong friends. A smile crept across his face, eager to hear embarrassing stories from Ginger's younger days, assuming of course that it was possible to embarrass her at all. To be fair, he knew she was an open book, so the chances were slim that he'd hear anything new tonight. But still, it would be neat to hear someone else's perspective on his boss and friend. He got off the bike, grabbed the two bouquets of flowers that he'd so carefully placed in his backpack ("Couldn't just give one to Ginger", he thought), and rang the doorbell.

*****

Traffic was light for a Friday, so Samantha had gotten to Ginger's house early. That wasn't a problem; Ginger didn't appear to be dressed and ready to go out, but the open bottle of Riesling was chilled to perfection. One glass led to another, one story to another, and before either noticed the time ticking away, Samantha was startled by the ringing of the doorbell. "Expecting someone else, Aunt Ginger?"

Ginger's eyes twinkled as she walked towards her front door. "Sammi, I have to come clean to you. You remember the wounded animal I asked you to come over and take a look at?"

"Of course, but you never did tell me what species he is."

"Well, now you can see for yourself -- he's here."

When Ginger opened the door, Samantha wasn't surprised to see a man there; in her professional experience, she'd found that there weren't very many animals with enough politeness to ring a doorbell. Nor was she surprised that the man in question was strikingly handsome; Ginger had always had what seemed to be an endless line of cute guys she knew. The mild surprise was that he didn't seem to be holding a leash or reins or a cage or anything else animal-related. The bigger surprise was that he was holding two bouquets of flowers. But her politeness, instilled into her day after day by her mother, still brought her to feet and led her to the door.

*****

"Happy anniversary, Ginger!" Archie shouted as she opened the door. Handing her one of the bouquets, he said, "These are for you, and these are for your fr..." The gorgeous young woman in Ginger's house took his breath away, not to mention his ability to speak articulately. "You must b-be Ginger's friend's daughter?"

Ginger smiled impishly. "Archie, I'd like you to meet Dr. Samantha O'Donnell, of the West Denver Veterinary Hospital. Sammi, this is Archie Grantham, my assistant at the shelter."

The next few minutes were a cacophony of raised voices. A passerby would have only heard scraps of phrases like "sick animal ruse" or "you lied!" or "how could you". But Ginger had a way of commanding a room. So as their anger wound down, Ginger looked at each of them and lifted her hand as though she was calling for silence.

"Both of you, just sit down and listen. I have a story to tell you.

"You know that today would have been Tommy's and my anniversary. But there's a reason we chose this date for the wedding. It was an anniversary as well; we'd met each other three years ago that day. On a blind date. Oh, it was awkward... Neither of us knew where to look, what to say. If I'm being honest, it wasn't my best first date ever. Later on, Tommy would joke that it was the best first date he ever had without getting laid.

"But it was okay enough, I guess. He was a gentleman, kind and funny, with just a hint of the rogue about him. He seemed to have the potential to be the guy version of ... what do they call it? ... 'a lady in the streets but a freak in the sheets.' And, being honest for just a second, Sammi, isn't that just exactly what we're all looking for? The sweet guy who remembers your mother's birthday, sends you flowers at work for no reason, opens doors? The kind who knows how and when to be tender ... and knows when to come up behind you, spin you around, pull your hair back, and pour molten passion directly from his lips to yours? Who can give you a look from across a room that makes your knees get weak and tingly?" Samantha and Archie both blushed furiously, and both devoutly hoped the other didn't notice.

"For the next few months or so, we kind of circled each other. He dated other girls, I flirted with other boys, but we always came back to each other. Within the year, we were seeing each other exclusively. At some point, he snuck behind my back and asked my father for his blessing. Dad was a tough guy, so that couldn't have been easy for him, but he got up and did it. So, two years to the day after that first date, he took me out to a fancy dinner at a steakhouse here in town. After dinner, we walked and talked, enjoying a quiet, chilly November evening, a lot like tonight. I shivered, and he took his coat off and put it around my shoulders. Then he said he'd left some breath mints in his pocket, and would I get one for him? When I reached in to get them, there was a ring instead." She paused for a moment, looking at the ring still on her finger with misty eyes.

"Now, I know you both. In fact, I probably know you better than you know yourselves, and I know what kind of hearts you each have. And I told you both not to bring a present for my anniversary, because I'm giving you one. You have reservations for two at that same restaurant, in 20 minutes. The owner's a pal, so the check's already paid for. Now, scoot. Both of you, out! Archie, my front door locks at 11:30, so if you don't have her back by then, you'll have to put her up for the night." Ginger waggled her eyebrows, then stood up from the table. Taking Samantha's hand, she placed it in Archie's, and patted them both firmly on their butts. "Git!"