Shoe Strings

same shoes people
fought crowds to purchase, had made strolling along the cobblestone streets
nearly impossible.    
    That morning when she’d decided to amble along the main
street she’d passed on her way into town, she thought jeans and a casual top
would be perfect.   She’d even
mentally congratulated herself on her ability to dress the part despite having
packed for a different location.   Who knew the part meant old jeans, as in high-waisted,
do-nothing-for-your-body denim, tennis shoes, and unflattering t-shirts.   And not the kind of t-shirts she owned,
ones with little sayings or emblazoned with retro rock bands that clung to
every curve, but the baggy kind that made everyone look androgynous.   No wonder Jesse was begging to get his
hands on her.   Poor guy probably
hadn’t seen actual curves since the last time he sweet-talked some poor
mountain girl onto her back.  
    She’d been overly harsh with him, but damn it, her days of
feeling guilty were over.   Wasn’t
the whole point of this trip to regain the hard won independence she’d let slip
since she’d seen her father?   She’d
be damned if some know-nothing river guide would cause even a blip on her
radar.  
    No matter how cute he was.  
    No matter how much she liked and respected his father.  
    ***
    “Hello?” Cal called after knocking on the screen door of
Lita’s cabin.   He’d seen her come
back from wherever she’d spent the afternoon, driving that SUV of hers so fast
up the drive he was surprised the tires weren’t smoking.  
    “Lita?   It’s
Cal.”   He knocked again and sighed
when she didn’t answer.   He’d
brought over a bottle of wine for them to share after the delightful
conversation they’d had over breakfast that morning.   It was as much for him as it was for
her.   He was lonely.   He didn’t intend to embarrass himself by
poking around the cabin too much, but when he’d gone to uncork the wine and
have a glass on his porch, he thought she might like to have some with
him.  
    Truth was, he hadn’t had too much female company in the last
few months, ever since Sally Robinson got the wrong idea and stormed off after
he’d casually mentioned he never intended to marry again.   Women.   He’d enjoyed spending time with the
widow Robinson.   They had similar
interests in movies and he always sat with her on Thursday nights at the VFW
for Bingo.   She’d even taken to
having him over for supper on Saturday nights.   And why would she, at the age of
sixty-two, be interested in marrying him or anyone anyway?  
    He liked his life, tending to his house and the two cabins
that stayed rented most of the spring, summer, and fall seasons.   The variety of people who came to spend
a few nights or a few months at Bloodworth Cabins kept most of his boredom at
bay.   It was times like now, when
winter just started to pass, but things were still slow, he tended to itch for
company.   It was getting harder and
harder to lure Ty away from his friends and the girls he refused to admit he
chased.   And Jesse was so busy getting
his business ready for the season he rarely poked his head around more than
once a week.   And considering the
way things were between them lately, that seemed about all either one could
take.
    Besides, Cal found Lita’s company better than average.   She was smart and sassy in an unassuming
way.   And it sure wasn’t a hardship
to look at her.   She was gorgeous
and built with the kind of curves that reminded him of his favorite
actresses—Hedy Lamarr and Ava Gardner.   Those were real woman, with real bodies
a man could sink his hands into.  
    He’d ambled down the steps of the deck, assuming she’d taken
off for a hike on one of the many paths that meandered through the property,
when he heard something that sounded like a grunt from around the side of her
cabin.   He walked to the edge and
peered around the corner.   He saw
Lita on all fours yanking weeds from the bed he’d been meaning to clean out,
but hadn’t gotten to yet.  
    “What are you doing?” he asked.   “You’re going to get your pretty clothes
all muddy.”
    She sat back on her heels and swiped a dirty hand across her
forehead.   The streak of dirt she
left behind didn’t take away from her beauty one bit.   “I’m thinking.   I hope you don’t mind, but I think best
when my hands are busy.   I usually
design, but my heart wasn’t in it today.   This was the next best