Cobblestone Streets 1

I removed this story from the site some years ago. It has been revised and reedited. As I rebuild my library, I will be posting these. There is no way to bring them back without resubmitting. If you have read it, you need not read, vote or comment. If not, enjoy.

As always, I need to give credit where it is due. My editors are Girlinthemoon. Hal, Olddave1951, Pixel the Cat and GeorgeAnderson. Harddaysknight is my mentor and gives me critical review. Sbrooks103x also gave me a pre-post read.

*****

Jack watched his tee shot sail exactly down the middle of the fairway. He always hit the same shot. It wasn't long; it was just straight down the middle of the fairway. The other two guys had already teed off, and it was my turn. I got it set up and took a little practice swing. This was a par five, pretty long and pretty wide open. I would just take a rip at it and see what happened.

I'm a big guy and I power lift four days a week. My bench is better than it was in college. I can do reps with 225 pounds that make the steroid freaks at the gym jealous. I had a new driver, one of those graphite composite ones and I felt pretty good. I got the sweet spot and Jack's jaw dropped.

"Jesus Christ, Eric, you hammered that. That's three hundred and fifty fucking yards if it's an inch. It's farther than that. You get up and down and you've got an eagle."

I'd had two eagles in my life. I felt pretty good about this one. We started down the fairway and Jack hit his second shot. It still wasn't to my first one. I heard his phone buzzing in his bag. He was a little hard of hearing so I told him he had a text. He got his phone out and his face went white.

"Eric, I've got to go," he said.

"What's wrong?" I asked him.

"Something back at the office," he said. "Take me back, Eric. I'm sorry but I can't tell you about it yet. You can have the rest of the afternoon off after you take me back."

Jack was my boss. He also owned Whitman Enterprises. I'd worked there since I graduated from college. They recruited me from the time I was a sophomore and I was the number two guy there. It was a family business. We made pumps, all kinds of pumps. They were one of a kind, designed for specific applications. We had a foundry, a machine shop and we made them from the blueprint to the finished product. I was the VP of production and I pretty much ran the place. Jack's daughter, Allison, was my counterpart in sales. I knew there had been some noise about us being bought out by a Swiss company, and I figured it was about that.

I took him back to the office and started home. I was sitting at a traffic light. The street downtown was one of those old cobblestone streets and there was an elderly lady crossing the street in front of me. I watched, horrified, as her toe caught on one of the cobblestones and she tripped. She tried to keep her balance but she was staggering forward, now. She dropped her grocery bag, tripped again and she went down. I heard her cry out as her arms hit the street, trying to save herself. I slammed the shifter into park and jumped out, running around the truck and kneeling beside her. She was crying and I felt awful for her. Her hands were bleeding and her arm was clearly broken.

I gathered her up in my arms. "I'm so sorry," I told her. "I'm going to help you. It's going to be okay. I'll take you to the hospital. Are you hurt anywhere besides your hands and arm?"

"No," she sobbed, "but I think my arm is broken. I dropped my groceries and I'm afraid my eggs are broken, too. Well, my knees are bleeding, too, honey. My arm hurts so bad!"

She was breaking my heart. I had tears in my own eyes. This sweet little lady didn't deserve this! "I'll get you some more eggs," I told her. "Let me help you get in the truck. I'll take you to the hospital."

That made her cry even more. "Thank you, but I can't go to the hospital." Her breath was coming in gasps. "I don't have any insurance. I can't afford to go to the hospital."

I felt like shit now. She was a tiny little black woman, probably seventy or so, and you could tell she had been a stunner. She was still very pretty and I felt really bad for her. I thought about my mother. She had passed away from a stroke two years before. If she had fallen like this I would have wanted someone to take care of her.

"I'm taking you to the hospital," I told her. "I'll take care of it. My wife works there and we'll work something out. You look like someone's mother, and I would want someone to help my mother. I'm taking you now. Let me help you up, I'll get your groceries and we'll go, okay?"

"It hurts really bad," she said. "Thank you, young man. I'll never forget this."

I got her up and into the front seat of the truck. It was higher than she could comfortably get into, so I lifted her. I gathered up her groceries and put them in the back seat of the truck.

On the way to the hospital she told me her name was Samantha Groves and that she was a widow. It was only about a mile and I pulled up at the emergency room door. Cindy, my wife, was on shift, and I helped Samantha inside. I took her to the desk and Kirsten was working. I told her what was going on and that I would be taking care of any bills. She took Samantha right back to a bed and Rachael, the RN, cleaned up her hands and knees while we waited for the doctor.

They tried to shoo me out, but Samantha wasn't having it. She wanted me to stay and that was that. I asked her if she wanted to call someone. She said her phone was in her purse so I went back to the truck and got it. She needed her ID, anyway, and when I got back, I gave it to Kirsten. Samantha got her phone out and it was one of those cheap phones that you buy minutes. She dialed and then started crying again.

"What's wrong, Samantha?" I asked.

"I'm out of minutes," she sobbed. "This is just a terrible day!"

"Here, use my phone," I handed her my Android. I had to show her how to use it and she talked to someone female on the other end.

"Cecilia, I fell and hurt myself," she said. "I'm at the hospital. No, a really nice white man is helping me. Please, Honey, would you? Okay, please don't worry."

I wondered where Cindy was. She worked the emergency room. She was a Physician's Assistant and she should be handling this. I poked my head out and saw Rachael.

"Where the hell is Cindy?" I asked her. "This lady is hurting and she needs attended to."

Rachael flushed. "She went to lunch. I called her and she'll be here any minute."

"What do you mean, 'she went to lunch'? She just got here!" Cindy worked three to eleven. Her lunch hour was at seven.

Rachael stammered around for a minute and finally she just left. What the hell was going on? I went back to Samantha and she was still crying. I sat down by her and hugged her.

"It's okay, Samantha," I told her. "Who did you call?"

"My granddaughter," she said. "She's going to college. She just got out of class and she'll be here after a bit. You can go then. I know you don't want to be here."

"Nonsense," I told her. "I'm off work. This isn't going to be such a bad day, Samantha. You made a new friend today, you're going to be fine, your granddaughter is on the way and you won't have to do a lick of work for a while because you'll have a cast on your arm."

She chuckled and hugged me back. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and I heard a voice behind us. It was low and husky and sounded like smoky jazz. "Who's your new lover, Grandma?"

I looked back and there was a vision framed in the hospital curtain. She was little, brown and as cute as a newborn kitten. She stepped around to the other side of the bed and kissed Samantha.

"I don't know his name," Samantha said. "I've been so flustered I forgot to ask. I think he's the Good Samaritan. He's been taking care of me. I don't know where he came from but he's a gift from heaven."

"My name is Eric Hollister," I told them. "You must be Cecilia. I was sitting in my car at the crosswalk and I saw Samantha fall. I couldn't do anything but bring her here where the DOCTOR should have BEEN here by now!" I raised my voice. I knew I was being passive/aggressive, but I was starting to get pissed off.

I poked my head out of the curtain and saw Rachael avoiding my eyes. "Go get Pierce," I told her. "If someone isn't here to take care of this lady in five minutes I'm going to raise hell at the next board meeting! Where the hell is Cindy?"

"Dr. Pierce went to lunch with her," she said.

"Well, that's just freaking great," I was disgusted. "Call Olivia."

"Your daughter is just an intern," Rachael said.

"Can she prescribe medicine and order a cast for this lady?" I asked.

"Yes, she can do that," Rachael admitted.

"Then page her," I told her.

I went back to sit in the chair by Samantha. "My daughter is an intern here," I told her. "She'll be here in a minute."

I thought about Cindy and that creep Pierce being out to lunch together. What the hell was going on? Cindy knew very well I wouldn't like that. I had made that perfectly plain on a couple of occasions.

We had been dating about six months the first time. I had met Cindy when we were assigned as lab partners in biology. She was drop dead gorgeous. She was a tall plush girl with dark hair, fair skin and the bluest eyes you've ever seen. I invited her for a cup of coffee after the lab and while we were there, I asked her out and she accepted. We went to dinner and a movie, I know, not the most imaginative date in the world, but I was nineteen years old. She kissed me good night at the door of her room and I asked her out again. It took about four dates before she let me feel her breasts and they were amazing. She had very large breasts and they were very sensitive. I think she came twice just from me playing with them. She had been raised by very religious parents and I think I was the first guy to ever get his hands on those luscious mounds. It took me three months to talk her into my bed and she never left it.

We had been going out for six months and I was coming out of the electronics store with a new video game when I saw her and George Cooper going into Chili's next door. I walked in and they were sitting together in a booth in the back. He had his arm around her and she was laughing up into his face. I turned around and went home. I had an apartment across the street from the school and I just picked her stuff up, put it in a box outside the door and went to class. I didn't go home for two days or talk to her. She called me about a dozen times and sent me a bunch of e-mails, but I never read them or responded. Twice, she was waiting outside class when it was over, but I went back in and told the professor I needed to talk to him in his office. We were talking when we came out the door and she had no opportunity to say anything. I skipped biology lab.

When I got up Saturday morning, she was curled up, sleeping in the hall outside the door. I stepped over her and started down the hall. I must have made some sound. I was trying to be stealthy, but she jumped up and ran down the hall after me, throwing her arms around me from behind. She spun me around and her eyes were blazing.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Eric?" she yelled. "Why did you put my stuff out in the hall? Why won't you talk to me? Why are you avoiding me? Have you met someone else?"

"No, you have," I told her. "I heard Cooper has an opening, maybe you should give him a call. I know third string running backs have busy schedules."

"Is that what this is about?" she was incredulous. "You know I went to school with him, right? We dated for a while, but we're just friends now. What did you think, we were lovers?"

"I didn't think anything," I told her. "I was coming out of the store and I saw you go into Chili's with him."

"We're just two old friends having lunch," she shouted. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

"My girlfriends don't have lunch with other men by themselves," I told her.

"You jealous prick," she started crying and walked away. It was two more days before I saw her again.

Maybe I was a jealous prick, but I managed to live with myself. If others couldn't, that was fine by me.

The next time I saw Cindy, she knocked on the door. I looked out and saw her in the hall.

"I don't want any," I yelled through the door.

"It's me," she said. "Can I talk to you?"

"I don't think so," I said. "I'm a jealous prick, remember?"

"I'm sorry I said that," she said. "Please let me come in and talk to you for a minute."

I opened the door. She just stood there for a minute. She wouldn't meet my eyes. "I'm sorry, Eric. I didn't know you would care. I know now and it won't happen again."

"You didn't know that people that are in relationships shouldn't have dates alone with members of the opposite sex?" I asked her. "You read the wrong relationship books, Cindy. That one is out of the cheater's manual, not the relationship manual."

"I'm not a cheater," she said. "It was lunch. I've known him since I was in the fourth grade."

"All the more reason not to be alone with him," I told her. "Why didn't you tell me you were having lunch with him? If you never have lunch, you never cheat. That's my rule. I don't do it and no one I'm in a relationship with does it."

"Okay, I get it. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Okay, I forgive you," I told her. I started to walk away and she ran after me.

"That's it?" she was incredulous. "You're going to just walk away from me?"

"I'm a jealous prick," I told her. "I don't think we're on the same page, Cindy. The fact that you didn't see anything wrong with going to lunch with that asswipe and not telling me about it says that this is not going to work out."

"Jesus Christ, Eric," she burst out. "Okay, I'm sorry I said that. I'm sorry I did it. Don't I mean any more to you than that? God damn it, I've been sleeping with you for months. Don't you know I love you? Are you just going to throw me away for having lunch with a guy I've known all my life?"

I thought about that for a minute. "No, I guess that would be an overreaction. I'm still as mad as hell about it, but we'll see if we can work it out. If you're going to have lunch with a man besides me, you should tell me about it in advance. I'll do the same for you."

We eventually did work it out and it was just a blip on the radar until our senior year. I wasn't much into the campus life thing. I went to school to get an education and most of the students were just assholes with whom I would never voluntarily associate. I did have a few buddies with whom I hung out. Patrick Kelly was one of them. He was a big football fan and we had a pretty good team that year. He kept after me to go to a game until I finally gave in and went. We didn't sit in the student section. His dad had season tickets and we used them to get a seat on the fifty-yard line. After the game, we were getting ready to leave and I saw Cindy in the student section. I didn't know she was going to the game or I'd have asked her to join us.

She was talking and laughing with a group of friends and I started to go over. Then she started walking down the steps and there was a guy with her. She was holding on to his arm and laughing up at him. I froze in place. It was George Cooper. He had an injury and they redshirted him that year. I was just standing there and she glanced my way. Our eyes locked and she froze in place. I turned and walked away and I heard her calling my name. I left Patrick there and kept walking.

She caught up to me in the parking lot and grabbed hold of my arm. "Eric, oh my God, Eric! That wasn't what it looked like. I wasn't... "

I cut her off. "I don't care, Cindy. Let go of my arm."

"Talk to me, Eric," she started crying. "Let me... "

"I asked you nicely to let go of my arm," I told her. She dropped her hand and I started walking. She ran around and stood in front of me. "You're not leaving until you give me a chance to explain," she wept.

"Goodbye, Cindy," I walked around her and left her there crying. She called me about ten times a day until the semester was over and I never answered or listened to any of her messages. She did her camping out thing in the hall outside my apartment but I just packed some things, crawled out the window and stayed with Patrick until the semester was over. I went and stayed with my parents over the Christmas break and she came by a couple of times. I told Mom and Dad not to let her in and I refused to go to the door. I transferred out at semester and went to school fifty miles away. Mom and Dad were pissed at me. I didn't give a damn.

When I graduated, I got a job near Austin and moved into an apartment. I heard about her sometimes when one of my friends would mention her, but I never saw her. I'd been back in Central Texas for about six months when her Dad showed up at work one day when I got off. I saw him standing by my car and started to go back in. I thought about it and just decided to bite the bullet. This was going to suck.

I walked up to my car and he looked up when he heard me. "Eric, I know I'm the last guy you want to see, but I'm a father and I don't have a choice. I love my daughter. I know she did something really stupid. I know she did it twice. The problem is, she really loves you, Eric, and she's miserable. She's lost twenty pounds. The first five didn't hurt, but she doesn't sleep, she hardly eats and she never leaves the house except when she hears you're back home and thinks she might see you somewhere. Put us out of our misery, Eric. At least talk to her. Maybe we can put this behind us and she can move on. Please, our whole family is suffering."

Well, this sucked as much as I thought it would. I felt really sorry for him. None of this was his fault and he had been my little league baseball coach in the sixth grade. I always liked him and his wife a lot.

"Okay, Mr. Peterson," I told him. "I don't know what good it will do. Cindy did this to me once and I thought I made myself very clear. I never dreamed it would come up again. She doesn't think like me. I don't know how to get around that."

"I understand," he nodded. "I even agree with you, but please, just talk to her. Listen to what she has to say. That's all I'm asking. Thank you, Eric. I owe you one."

"You don't owe me anything, Mr. Peterson," I told him. "You taught me how to play first base. I'm the one that owes you. Tell her I'll be back home and pick her up at six on Friday, okay?"

We went to Cheddar's and I bought her dinner. I'd heard it before, several times, I didn't want to hear it again. I knew I was going to hear it whether I wanted to or not.

"George is a really nice guy," she said.

"Cindy, were you going out with me or not?" I asked.

"You know I was, honey," she tried to sweet talk me.

"There seems to have been some doubt in your mind," I told her. "I saw you together at Chili's. You were sitting together in the same booth and he had his arm around you."

"We're very good friends," she said. "If you'd get to know him you'd like him. I want the two of you to be friends. We talked about that and I didn't do it again. I want you and him to be friends."

"We're not going to be friends," I told her. "We're not going out because of your 'friend'."

"What? What do you mean?" she stammered.

"I'm not getting back together with you," I told her. "The first time it happened I told you that if you were ever alone with him again we were done. I guess you didn't believe me."

"Why are you being such an asshole?" she snapped. "It was just lunch and a ride home from the football game. He's a nice guy."

"No, he's the asshole," I told her. "You're an asshole, too. I don't know what I ever saw in you. This was a bad idea."

I got up and threw money on the table. I didn't need the change. I walked out the door and to my car. I didn't realize she was following me until I hit the remote. Luckily, I only hit it once and the passenger door stayed locked. She tried to open it but I just got in and started the car. She ran around and opened my door.