For more Lucy Kilgore stories go here. This is #7.

It takes everything in me not to walk across the room to where Lucy’s hiding behind that desk and pull her close. Words aren’t my friend at the moment. When I think of everything I’ve been through, to be afraid to talk to a 5 foot nothing woman might seem ridiculous—unless you knew Lucy.

“You sounded great,” I say.

“Thanks.”

“Can you take off the hat and wig?”

“No.”

She’s obviously not going to make this easy. She’s going to make me jump loops through hoops and maybe I deserve it. I sigh and take a step forward, but her body grows rigid.

“Stay where you are, Cal.”

“Or what?”

She raises the bill of her hat and looks at me. “Try me.”

I do. I walk toward her and grin because we’ve done this before and I’ve always won.

“No, don’t,” she says, panic rising in her voice.

I’ve come around the desk now. The first thing I notice is that she’s wearing a different cologne and disappointment flows through me. The next thing I notice is that there’s a ring on the third finger of her left hand. Is she engaged? Wouldn’t someone have told me? My feet stop as I stare at the ring and then I look at her. There’s something in her eyes, something that looks a lot like yearning and I wonder if I’m wrong about that. But I’ve got to take the chance.

Gently I pull her toward me and it seems like she puts up a slight resistance because she feels like she ought to. And then I lean down to kiss her and her hat jabs my forehead and I bounce back slightly.

“The hat always wins,” she says dryly.

“Not this time,” I say and flip it from her head and then this time kiss her hard with three year’s worth of need. She goes limp in my arms, resurges and then it’s as if she’s trying to climb my body so I just hoist her up until her legs encircle my waist.

She tastes sweet and minty and this time I’m never letting her go. Until the door opens and the bar manager clears his throat.

“Hate to interrupt, but Lacey, you’ve got a restless audience,” he says.

She looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “You aren’t kidding.”

 

end 6/21/2017

Sascha Darlington