before. His scent was fresh and clean, like the night air and newly-washed laundry.
The ice cold breeze made him move away, and she didn’t want him to.
“It’s awfully cold out here,” Rafe said. “I’m sorry we stayed out so long.”
“That’s okay,” Dina said. “It was great…being with you. Goodnight, Doc.”
“Goodnight, Dina.”
***
Schmoopie came rushing up to see if there were any leftovers from the party before Dina could get the door open. Her knee hurt, but she also felt weak from the kiss. That part was good, but guilt set in when she sat down on the bench of her piano. She noticed that Schmoopie had knocked the paisley Victorian piano shawl her mother-in-law had given her on the floor. He’d also thrown some of her mom’s old sheet music onto the Oriental rug. “Shame on you, Schmoopie.”
The kitty looked up at her as if to say “Who, me?”
“Yes, you,” Dina scolded, but she couldn’t stay mad at him. “At least you didn’t knock over Dad’s picture.” She held the photo of Rob in her hands. Tears started to run down her cheeks; she couldn’t stop them. It was a picture of him as a teenager, right after he and his family had moved to Cincinnati. He looked so handsome standing next to his dad’s car. He wore a turtleneck sweater and jeans that emphasized the muscles in his tall, slender form.
“Oh, Rob,” Dina said, a sob catching in her throat. “I’m sorry. Doc invited me to a dinner party and he kissed me and I shouldn’t have kissed him back, but I did.” She sighed. “I kind of liked it, but he’s not you.” She thought back to his last days in the hospital. Some of those days he was out of it from the chemotherapy, and had been incoherent. When he was lucid, she remembered his words. She looked up toward the heavens. “Is it really okay?”
A cool breeze swept through the room and she realized she’d left her front door open a crack. It was still a sign. Rob was all right with her dating someone else.
Dina blinked her eyes and rose slowly when the phone rang, startling her out of a sound afternoon nap. Schmoopie put his ears back and meowed. The doorbell rang, and she called “Just a minute!” and made her way–slowly–from the bedroom to the hall and the front door. She looked through the keyhole and saw Holden Bixler. She opened the door and her dog came toward her, sniffing her feet.
“Hi,” Holden said. “I thought you might want to practice walking and go out with Buster and me. After that, we’ll be having pizza if you want to stop by.”
“I’d love to.”
Holden wore a sage green sweatshirt with a hood, and blue jeans that clung to his muscular body. Once again, Dina didn’t miss his easy smile. And though she was a cat person, she kind of liked Buster. She wasn’t used to so much male attention, though. Sure, she’d had Rob and male friends like Jay, but she didn’t like having to fill in gaps in the conversation. Her neighbor probably didn’t want to hear about the comparison between the coffee at Hanover Hospital and the coffee at Wellstone Village. Maybe he liked the Red Wolves?
“So, how about those Red Wolves?”
“I’m a football fan myself. I love the Tigers.”
“I hate football,” Dina said, thinking of the hometown team, the Cincinnati Tigers. “And so does my cab driver.”
“You have your own cab driver?”
“Kind of. My dad can’t drive any more, my mom doesn’t like to drive, and I’ve got the bad knee so I don’t like to drive either and I’m not ready to take the bus again. And he’s a friend, too.”
“That’s the guy who brought you home from the
The ice cold breeze made him move away, and she didn’t want him to.
“It’s awfully cold out here,” Rafe said. “I’m sorry we stayed out so long.”
“That’s okay,” Dina said. “It was great…being with you. Goodnight, Doc.”
“Goodnight, Dina.”
***
Schmoopie came rushing up to see if there were any leftovers from the party before Dina could get the door open. Her knee hurt, but she also felt weak from the kiss. That part was good, but guilt set in when she sat down on the bench of her piano. She noticed that Schmoopie had knocked the paisley Victorian piano shawl her mother-in-law had given her on the floor. He’d also thrown some of her mom’s old sheet music onto the Oriental rug. “Shame on you, Schmoopie.”
The kitty looked up at her as if to say “Who, me?”
“Yes, you,” Dina scolded, but she couldn’t stay mad at him. “At least you didn’t knock over Dad’s picture.” She held the photo of Rob in her hands. Tears started to run down her cheeks; she couldn’t stop them. It was a picture of him as a teenager, right after he and his family had moved to Cincinnati. He looked so handsome standing next to his dad’s car. He wore a turtleneck sweater and jeans that emphasized the muscles in his tall, slender form.
“Oh, Rob,” Dina said, a sob catching in her throat. “I’m sorry. Doc invited me to a dinner party and he kissed me and I shouldn’t have kissed him back, but I did.” She sighed. “I kind of liked it, but he’s not you.” She thought back to his last days in the hospital. Some of those days he was out of it from the chemotherapy, and had been incoherent. When he was lucid, she remembered his words. She looked up toward the heavens. “Is it really okay?”
A cool breeze swept through the room and she realized she’d left her front door open a crack. It was still a sign. Rob was all right with her dating someone else.
Dina blinked her eyes and rose slowly when the phone rang, startling her out of a sound afternoon nap. Schmoopie put his ears back and meowed. The doorbell rang, and she called “Just a minute!” and made her way–slowly–from the bedroom to the hall and the front door. She looked through the keyhole and saw Holden Bixler. She opened the door and her dog came toward her, sniffing her feet.
“Hi,” Holden said. “I thought you might want to practice walking and go out with Buster and me. After that, we’ll be having pizza if you want to stop by.”
“I’d love to.”
Holden wore a sage green sweatshirt with a hood, and blue jeans that clung to his muscular body. Once again, Dina didn’t miss his easy smile. And though she was a cat person, she kind of liked Buster. She wasn’t used to so much male attention, though. Sure, she’d had Rob and male friends like Jay, but she didn’t like having to fill in gaps in the conversation. Her neighbor probably didn’t want to hear about the comparison between the coffee at Hanover Hospital and the coffee at Wellstone Village. Maybe he liked the Red Wolves?
“So, how about those Red Wolves?”
“I’m a football fan myself. I love the Tigers.”
“I hate football,” Dina said, thinking of the hometown team, the Cincinnati Tigers. “And so does my cab driver.”
“You have your own cab driver?”
“Kind of. My dad can’t drive any more, my mom doesn’t like to drive, and I’ve got the bad knee so I don’t like to drive either and I’m not ready to take the bus again. And he’s a friend, too.”
“That’s the guy who brought you home from the
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