Brown Eyed Girl Page 8

  “Oh, if you need to rest or get something done, I can hang up, or call back.”

  “No! This is a good time for me to talk, believe it or not. When did your company leave?”

  “About seven. Did you hear about the game?”

  “Yeah—they pulled it off,” she said.

  “What’s that noise I’m hearing in the background?”

  “Oh, hang on.” She reached over and turned off the jets. “Is that better?” she asked as she sat back in the tub. “Are you still there?” she asked, after a few moments of silence.

  “Are you in a tub?” he finally asked.

  “Yep, it’s been a long day.” After another pause with no talking she cleared her throat. “What are you doing, Red?”

  “Trying my damndest to conjure up a mental image of you in that tub.”

  She laughed softly, knowing he was smiling on his end. “Knock yourself out, McAllister.”

  “What happened at the hospital?”

  “A four wheeler collision...typical grown men and their toys. The guy had a few broken bones, but no internal injuries.”

  “Good. Oh, everyone said to tell you again how good the dessert was, and they all want the recipe.”

  “I’ll get it to you, and thanks again for having me. I had a blast until I got the call.” She twirled a lock of hair around her finger and waited. There was silence on the other end of the line then she heard the words that she’d somehow known were coming.

  “Why are you still with him, Doc? Can you tell me that?”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “Never mind,” he said in a rush. “It’s none of my business and I had no right to ask.”

  “It’s okay, Red. On my way home from the hospital I was thinking it’s time to end this mess and move back into my house.”

  “You have a house?”

  “I rent a house on Fleur de Lit Avenue. When Tanner asked me to move in with him four months ago, I hoped it would improve things between us, but it hasn’t. I can’t say I’m too surprised—that’s why I didn’t give up my lease. I kept the utilities turned on with the central running so it doesn’t get musty. Most of my stuff is still there. It was Drake’s idea.”

  “Sounds like he knows Tanner.”

  “He does, and he’s not a fan. I’ve been thinking about what your mom told me. How I need to find myself again. I think I need to be alone for awhile.”

  “You know, Doc, sometimes being alone isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

  Tiffany drank the last sip of wine from her glass. “Maybe not, but it’s got to be better than this.” The snort she heard coming from the earpiece made her smile.

  “Well, hell, I can’t argue with you. I don’t know how you took it this long.”

  She let the comment pass and sat up to reach for the radio.

  “Are you getting out of the tub now?”

  “No, just switched stations. Oh, I love this song! I haven’t heard this in years.” She raised the volume so Red could hear the mellow sounds of Led Zeppelin’s Stairway to Heaven through the speakers. She refilled her glass and eased back into the water, groaning as the warmth enveloped her. “I used to be putty in the hands of any guy who could play that acoustical guitar part for me.”

  “Are you still?”

  She heard the hint of mischief in his question and smiled to herself, feeling the effects of the wine. “Maybe.”

  “Want me to play it for you?”

  “Don’t tease me, Red.”

  “I’m serious. I’ll get my guitar and play it for you right now, if you want me to.”

  “Now what girl could say no to that?” she cooed.

  “Hang on.”

  She heard him put the phone down. While he was gone, she reached over and turned off the radio. A minute later he came back to the phone.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Absolutely.” She heard him warming up, pictured his deft fingers manipulating the taut strings into forming the well-known guitar solo.

  Tiffany settled back, eyes closed, enjoying the music she loved. Her enjoyment grew as Red began to sing to her in rich dulcet tones, and she wondered if...no…she hoped he’d repeat the performance for her one day, face to face. Several wonderful minutes later, she released a long, low sigh of satisfaction.

  “I haven’t had anyone do that for me since spring break back in 1990. I’m not sure, but I think his name was Eric,” she said, more to jog her own memory than anything else.

  “His performance couldn’t have been that good if you’re not sure of his name.”

  After a slight pause she asked, “Are you referring to his musical performance?”

  “I was, but if either of his performances had been worth a damn, you’d remember his name.”

  Tiffany chuckled. “Have you ever been to Panama City Beach during spring break? There’s a hell of a lot I don’t remember.”

  “As a matter of fact, I went four years in a row and I remember the names of every girl I met there.”

  “Ah, but do they remember your name?” she asked slyly as Red’s deep chuckle rumbled over the line.

  “I’m sure they do, they repeated it enough during the throes of passion.”

  Tiffany snorted. “How do you know they weren’t faking it?”

  “A guy knows those things, Doc.”

  “Hmmm...I’m remembering a scene from a particular Meg Ryan movie.”

  “Well, in all honesty, I’ve learned a lot since then, but I call those years my learning period.”

  “What did you learn?”

  “How to please women in bed, or on the beach, or the back seat of a car, or the kitchen tab...”

  “Enough! Honestly, you are such a guy!”

  “What else would I be? And what else would I do there? Why did you go to Panama City during Spring Break? Wait, no, don’t tell me...to get a tan?”

  Tiffany sipped from her wine glass. “Certainly not, although that was a bonus. I went especially to shock my parents. I wanted three things. To get a tattoo, any form of body piercing, and have unprotected sex with the first guy I met.”

  “You don’t seem the type. Did you do it all?”

  “Let’s see—I nearly passed out while I was watching some guy’s nipple being pierced.”

  “But, you’re a surgeon…”

  “I know, but I don’t perform surgery after five margaritas and three shots of tequila.”

  “I sure as hell hope not,” he snorted. “Anything else?”

  “Uh...well, the only guy I ever had sex with over there wore a condom, so I guess I wasn’t the type after all.”

  “Was it the Stairway to Heaven guy?”

  “Yes, actually, it was.”

  “Damn, if I’d known that, I would have saved it for a live performance.”

  “Too late now, stud,” she said, chuckling.

  “Maybe next time, but, I think you left something out.”

  “Mm, I don’t think so.”

  “Give it up Tiff-a-ny,” he drawled. “What kind of tattoo did you get?”

  “I’m not telling you.”

  “Come on, where did you get it, Doc?”

  “I got it...at a parlor on that Front Beach Road.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Where is it?”

  “On a place that never sees the sunshine.”

  “Fine, I’ll ask Tanner.”

  “Oh yeah,” she said, giggling. “Like he’d tell you.”

  “I’ll sing to you again if you tell me.”

  “What will I get to hear?”

  “Anything you want, if I know it.”

  She thought awhile and said, “Two songs—one of my choice and one of your own. I love that old song New Orleans Ladies. Can you handle it?”

  “Sure I do. I have to admit, though, I never would have taken you for a classic rock kind of girl.”

  She laughed at his remark. “My brother use
d to tell me I was born fifteen years too late.”

  “Nah, you were born at just the right time.”

  Tiffany bit her lower lip, wondering if this was harmless flirting or something more dangerous.

  Red cleared his throat. “I’ll play it for you, but I want the location first and what it is. Either that, or a promise to let me see it for myself.”

  “It’s a yellow rose and it’s just above my right butt cheek,” she said quickly. “Now where’s my song?”

  “Hang on now. I need a minute or two for the visual to take shape. First you’re in the tub and now you have a yellow rose on your right butt cheek. This could take awhile.”

  Tiffany cleared her throat. ”Since we’re visually imaging, I think it’s only fair you tell me what you’re wearing.”

  “My oldest, most comfortable faded jeans,” he told her.

  “What else?”

  “Nada.”

  She sucked in her breath, recalling the pictures she’d seen of his fabulous body. “Nothing?” she asked.

  “Nope...when I got out of the shower and realized I’d worn my last pair of undershorts today, I had to do some laundry. It’s been a hectic week.”

  “Boxers or briefs?” As soon as she uttered the words, she gasped and slapped her hand over her mouth.

  A shocked laugh burst from Red. “Why, Doc, I didn’t know you cared!”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, deciding it was useless to apologize. “It’s the wine,” she groaned.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He began strumming the notes of the song.

  Tiffany laid back and relaxed as he sang his own beautiful version of her second favorite song. Afterward, he paused for several moments before making his choice.

  “I’ve got it,” he said, finally. “Do you remember Doug Stone?”

  “Sure do,” she said, relaxing as he began to play another old favorite of hers, Come In Out Of The Pain. Red’s version was soulful and sexy, and she easily conjured up her own image of him sitting with his guitar propped comfortably on his leg, and wearing nothing but an old pair of jeans. Tiffany thought of the near kiss situation earlier today. She’d been tempted, but wouldn’t make a move with any man until she had ended the relationship with Tanner.

  She blinked several times as the song came to an end. “That was beautiful,” she whispered. “I really like the way you sing.”

  “Enough to let me have a look at that tattoo one of these days, Doc?”

  She giggled. “You know, I have a tendency to show it off when I shoot tequila...”

  “Good to know,” he interrupted. “You got a favorite brand so I’ll know what to stock up on?”

  “...and that’s why I don’t shoot tequila anymore,” she finished.

  “Major bubble buster,” he groaned. “What does Tanner think of the old yellow rose?”

  Tiffany sat up, thinking the mention of Tanner had its own bubble busting properties. “He doesn’t like it.”

  “It’s a flower and it’s on your butt. What’s not to like?”

  She adjusted the clip in her hair. “He...wants me to have it removed.”

  “Don’t you dare!”

  “Why do you care?” she asked. “You’ll never see it.”

  “Never is a long time.”

  “Red...,” she murmured, glad he couldn’t see her blush.

  He chuckled. ”Hey, what were you like as a kid? I bet you were a prissy little thing.”

  “Shows how much you know. My brother, Drake, can verify how wrong you are. I beat up a kid who picked on him once, and got myself in a lot of trouble at school.”

  “I bet that upset your mother.”

  She mulled it over before answering. “She didn’t care what I did, as long as she didn’t have to look at me.” She waited through another prolonged silence as he seemed to mull over her statement.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  “Nope, but thanks for asking.”

  “Anytime, but I guess I need to let you go. You’re probably pruning.”

  She stopped herself from telling him she’d like to keep talking. “I guess so.”

  “Listen, I know you don’t like the name Tiffy, and I can understand that, but does it bother you when I call you Doc? I’ll stop if you don’t like it.”

  “Strangely enough, I find it comforting.”

  “Oh,” he said, sounding pleased. “Then I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Goodnight Red.”

  “Oh, and one more thing.”

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Boxer briefs…G’night Doc.”

  <><><>

  Tiffany foraged through her fridge for something to eat, wishing she’d taken Red’s offer to bring home leftovers. Settling on a personal pizza from the freezer, she’d just popped it into the microwave when the phone rang.

  She checked the caller ID and answered with a bland, “Hello Tanner.”

  “Who the hell have you been talking to for an hour?” he demanded.

  “What do you care, and where’s the bimbo of the week?”

  “There you go with your paranoia again, Tiffy.”

  The sound of the hated nickname grated on her nerves to no end. “Where are you Tanner? What’s her name?”

  “Hmph, must be that time of the month again,” he said. “For a couple of days you have no control over your emotions, and your imagination runs rampant for an entire week.”

  Tiffany cursed lowly. “Why don’t you for once, in your pathetic life tell me the truth? I’m not stupid, you know. I’ve just chosen to look the other direction for the past five years.”

  “I’m not with anyone else...”

  “Last chance, Tanner. If I don’t get the truth right now, I’m out of here.” She fumed internally at the impatient sigh he released.

  “You know, this attitude of yours gets to be so boring.”

  Tiffany let out a long sigh, but remained calm. “Aren’t you as sick of this as I am?”

  “Stop being so dramat...”

  “I’ll be gone by the time you get back,” she said, cutting him off quickly. “Don’t waste your time calling me again…I won’t answer if it’s you.” She hung up without giving him a chance to respond.

  When he didn’t call back, she breathed a sigh of relief and picked up her cell phone. She programmed Red’s number into her cell phone before deleting it and the message from both the cordless phone and answering machine. Innocent as his call had been, she wouldn’t give Tanner any reason to take his ill feelings out on him. She sat on the couch and propped her feet up onto the coffee table, before calling Red. “Hey,” she said after he’d picked up on the third ring. “Are you busy?”

  “I’m never too busy for you, Doc.”

  She smiled at his answer. “Tanner called from some unknown number, demanding to know who I was speaking to for so long.”

  “What happened?”

  “I asked him to come clean and he accused me of being paranoid, of course. I told him by the time he comes back I won’t be here. We’re over.”

  “Good for you. He won’t come back and bother you tonight, will he?”

  “Tanner would never go through that much trouble.” Her phone began to ring. “That better not be him calling. I’ll let the machine pick it up.”

  When the recorded greeting finished she heard Sally from the hospital on the other line. “Hang on, Red. It’s the hospital.” She picked up the phone. “Sally? What’s going on?”

  “Hey, honey, your nine a.m. knee replacement just got cancelled—that’s a Mr. Mouton. His pre-admit blood work showed a high white blood cell count. It turns out he’s got a bacterial infection, so Dr. Trahan put him on antibiotics. Looks like that one will be put off for awhile.”

  “Okay Sal. That was my last surgery scheduled, so I won’t see you until Monday. Tell the gang I said Happy Thanksgiving.” She hung up the phone and picked up her cell, “Looks like I’m free until Monday. So…I guess I’ll be looking for a big
, strong man to help me move some things back into my house tomorrow. Do you have any idea where I could find someone that fits that description?”

  “You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to that.”

  She crossed her ankles and laughed. “Oh, I think I do, but thanks. It shouldn’t take long. I left most of my stuff in the house. I only have my desk, computer, and a couple of chairs to move. Everything else is clothing and personals. I’ll need to find packing boxes, though.”

  “You’re in luck, Doc. I didn’t finish unpacking until yesterday, so my garage is full of ‘em. I’ll bring some when I go.”

  Tiffany’s phone rang again, and she waited for the machine to pick up. She froze as her mother’s voice, shrill with anger, erupted from the machine.

  “Tiffany Danielle LeBlanc, have you completely lost your mind? I know you’re home and I’m giving you one minute to pick up that phone or I’m going over there.”

  Tiffany stared at the answering machine in horror. “Oh, my God, I cannot believe he called my mother. I need to take this, Red.”

  “Do you want me to stay on the line, or call you back?”

  “Give me ten minutes or so then call back.”

  “Be strong, Doc.”

  “I will.” She disconnected, resenting the hell out of Tanner and her mother for forcing her to do so.

  Tiffany took a deep breath and picked up the phone, “Hello mother. Did you call to say Happy Thanksgiving?”

  “You know why I called. Poor Tanner just called me, so distressed about you dumping him during the holidays.”

  “Poor Tanner was supposed to be spending it with his parents, but never made it that far. He called you from some other woman’s bed.”

  “Why didn’t you go with him?”

  “I’m on call. I can barely leave the city much less the state, Mother. I’ve been at the hospital all afternoon.”

  “And whose fault is that? You know how I feel about you working once you’re married. A woman who doesn’t need to work, shouldn’t. Marry Tanner, quit your job at that awful hospital, have a child or two, and join a few clubs to keep you busy.”

  “And endure a loveless marriage like yours and fathers.”

  “We both have our forms of entertainment.”

  “No kidding.”