Leaving Normal (16 page)

The stress of those calls had kept Natalie distracted and took away from her earlier preoccupation with Tony Cruz.

She hadn't been able to thank him for the arrangement he'd left for her. She'd knocked on his door early this morning, her heartbeat racing a mile a minute. When he didn't answer, she figured he was working today and had already left. She didn't have his phone number to call and thank him because he wasn't listed in the phone book. She'd have to try and catch him tomorrow.

"Where do you want these, Natalie?" her dad asked.

"Right there along that wall would be great."

The large room was filled with chairs and about ten patients. They wore varying degrees of clothing. Some in gowns and others fully dressed. One man wore a suit and tie. He wasn't in a wheelchair like some of his counterparts; rather, a normal chair. Wrinkled and weathered, he looked very old, but he wasn't shaky or sickly-like in appearance.

"Most of these guys have short attention spans," he commented as they passed him. "You better talk fast and repeat yourself."

She grinned. "I'll do my best."

He smiled in return, a great smile that was infectious. His eyes were pale blue, the irises little dots of black.

"I don't suppose you know Dr. Cooper?" he asked.

"Urn, no."

"He performed surgery on me. My ticker is still going strong. I used to be in the lumberjack business up in Idaho City."

"That's nice."

He gazed at the bald man who'd rolled up beside him. "Hi, Ralph." Then to the male nurse, "Did you get his Lap Buddy on securely? Last time he got up he fell on me."

"It's snug, Maynard. Double-checked."

"Good. I'll hold you to that."

Ralph began to sing with the Muzak playing throughout the room and Maynard made a face. "I wouldn't mind him if he sang on key," he said to Natalie, then to the man beside him, "Ralph, you couldn't carry a tune if it came in your coat pocket."

Grumbling, Ralph sang louder.

Fred nudged Natalie and whispered, "Why'd you have to volunteer to come here? These men are old. They're making me feel every year of my retirement."

"Because they need people to come in and make them feel better."

"At the expense of making me feel worse?" Fred quibbled. "It smells like old man in here and it's making me nervous."

"It does not. That's room freshener."

"To disguise the real smell."

Natalie rolled her eyes. Her dad could be cantankerous sometimes. He really needed to find other interests, pursue something that was out of his comfort zone. Namely, she'd like him to consider finding a woman friend. He had a lot to offer and she had always thought it a shame that he hadn't expressed any interest in female company.

Ralph stopped his singing, gazed pointedly at Natalie and in a very calm tone asked, "Do you think you can get me some Viagra?"

Before she could respond, Maynard was butting in. "Ralph, quit asking every visitor that question. They aren't getting you any sex pills."

Fred frowned, his face clearly indicating that he wished he could leave right now.

All these old men in here were making him aware he was no longer in his prime.

Natalie went with the head nurse to get something and Fred was left alone by the flower cart.

Ralph asked, "Have you had any operations?"

"Nothing to write home about," Fred supplied tightly, recalling the vasectomy he'd had in his thirties.

Not letting up on his interrogation, Ralph's next question threw Fred for a wallop. "Any penile implants?"

"Hell, no."

Ralph laughed. "Your secret is safe with me because I won't remember it tomorrow, anyway."

Maynard cut in, his disgust evident in the abrupt way he rose to his spindly legs. His suit appeared to be a size too large; it hung on him. "Ralph, you're embarrassing yourself and you're too lame-headed to even know it."

Getting behind the wheelchair, Maynard rolled Ralph to the back of the room, then came back and took his seat. "That's what happens when you let them put you on that dang cholesterol reduction pill. I take an aspirin a day and they want me on some other things, but I told the doctor here to go screw himself."

Fred started, unprepared for the crass comment from a spry geezer who had presented himself as fairly polished.

Intrigued by the change in his demeanor, Fred asked, "How old are you?"

"Ninety-eight. You know how you can tell when you're getting old?" Maynard's blue eyes narrowed. "Everything dries up or leaks!"

Just what Fred Miller didn't want to know.

His life sort of flashed by him in that moment, and he was struck by an image of himself dying alone. He hadn't really thought much about it up to this point. He'd been content to cope with life on his own. But now he had this horrible thought about never finding love again.

"Have you ever been married?" he asked Maynard.

"For fifty-nine years."

"When did she die?"

"She didn't," Maynard supplied, his eyes tearing up. Fred hoped the man wouldn't start crying. "She lives at Oak Valley…dementia. My son takes me to visit her. She doesn't know who I am."

Deeply saddened, Fred said with all sincerity, "I'm sorry."

"Me, too. But we had a good life together. I just… miss her. You ever been married?"

"Once. My wife died some time ago."

"Ever have a girlfriend?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Not interested."

"Why not? Are you queer?"

"God no." The corners of Fred's mouth turned down. "I'm not… No."

"Then get yourself a woman. Treat her right. Light the fires in your heart before it's too late."

Natalie returned, ready for the class to begin. The men were lined up at a long table and given flowers and baskets, along with green florist foam she used to sta-bilize the stems.

Fred didn't pay the activity much mind.

He thought about what Maynard had said. Fred looked at the man as he made an arrangement for a wife who wouldn't know it was from the husband she loved, had married.

A piece of Fred suddenly felt sad…bereft. Life had been sailing by and he hadn't realized he'd been missing a ride on the boat.

Bidalidous

"Do you think anyone would care if we left?" Tony asked, taking a drink of beer then scanning the crowded banquet room.

Rocky grinned. "I'm not leaving. How often do I get the chance to be auctioned off to a woman? I want to see who's going to buy me."

"I really wish we hadn't done this."

"It's for charity. I can suffer for a few hours." Reconciling himself to having to go through with the event, Tony rested his arms on the bar and contemplated how he'd ended up here.

Tony wasn't feeling real enthusiastic about being auctioned off to the highest bidder for a date. The fire department had roped him and Rocky into participating in the hospital's annual air-flight support auction and black-tie dance.

While Tony thought it a worthy cause, the idea of being bid on made him uncomfortable as all hell.

Rocky and him wore the required monkey suits, but Tony was thinking about his worn jeans and a pullover shirt. Dressing up wasn't his style. He liked comfort.

The event was sponsored by the local morning-radio show, members of the Boise Kixx women's soccer team and Bistro Owyhee—a trendy cafe on Eighth Street. Chef and owner Salvatore Pietro had catered the evening.

The auction was being held at the Boise Centre on the Grove.

Red tablecloths covered round tables and, in the centers were candles with floral arrangements. The soft flicker of candlelight illuminated the name cards on the tables.

Tony glanced at a program left on the bar. A name stood out and he picked up the folded paper. Hat and Garden had done the centerpieces.

Straightening, his gaze traveled the roomful of dark-suited men and women in evening dresses, looking for one woman in particular.

He couldn't see Natalie Goodwin, and wondered if she'd even come. Just because her shop had done the arrangements didn't mean she'd be here. Actually, he hoped she wouldn't show. He would feel even more idiotic with her watching the live auction.

They'd talked a couple of weeks ago, when she'd come over in the morning and thanked him for the flowers. He'd told her it was nothing, something he'd wanted to do. A blush had worked across her cheeks. He'd liked that. He liked her. Maybe too much.

He hadn't spoken to her since.

"What a way to celebrate being newly single," Rocky chuckled. He wore his sandy-blond hair spiked up for tonight. "How many days has it been now?"

"Five."

Tony's divorce had been recorded with the Ada County courthouse this week. Idaho was the only state he knew of that could grant a divorce in such a short time. He was officially a single man now.

But all the decree meant was a legal term on paper. The day he found out Kim had been unfaithful to him, in many ways, had been the day he'd felt the marriage was over.

Barely a bachelor for a week and look at how quickly he'd landed into trouble. He pulled his mouth into a frown. "I never should have said I'd do this."

"It's for a good cause," Rocky countered.

Tony gazed at the stage, the podium that was decorated with hearts and cupids. In less than fifteen minutes, the night was going to start and he'd find out what opening bid would be placed on him. Right now, there were silent bids on the items, and every time a woman walked past and smiled at him, he had the urge to leave.

"I know it's for a good cause," Tony replied. "I'd rather just write a personal check and make a donation that way."

Rocky left to use the men's room, then came back with a crooked smile on his face. "A woman pinched my ass—a hit-and-run. When I turned around, she'd already left." A gleam lit his eyes as to who the offender could have been.

"How do you know it wasn't a guy?" Tony asked with a grin, taking another drink of beer.

"You had to say that." Rocky's gaze skimmed the crowd. "I was hoping it was her."

Tony followed Rocky's gaze.

A woman stood by the stage, her back to them—a back that was fully exposed in a plunging cocktail dress.

Black fabric draped her hips and hugged a slender waist. The hem was sexy-short, several inches above the knees. She had on heels, really high ones. Her blond hair was swept up in sparkling hairpins, and loose curls fell against the slim column of her neck. She turned slightly and spoke to a man at her side.

Familiarity punched Tony in the gut.

Natalie Goodwin.

An arc of heat pulsed through the blood in his veins. He'd thought she was an attractive woman in many ways. Now he saw she was unbelievably sexy, as well.

"Do you know her?" Rocky questioned, dragging him out of his thoughts.

"She's my neighbor. She lives across the street."

"Ding-dong," Rocky said, his voice filled with ad-miration…and sexual appreciation. That bothered Tony. Something squeezed his chest and made him fight off the feeling of misplaced jealousy.

Rocky drank a swallow of beer, his eyes leveled on Natalie as she smiled at the man beside her, then laughed. "If I lived across the street from her, I'd be knocking on her door to ask for some sugar."