Sometime in the future:

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Previously:

Beth was sitting on the couch in her apartment, wondering what was going on inside her. She still had feelings for Simon. But something new was stirring; something altogether foreign in a way, but harkening back to a time when Beth didn’t even exist; at least in name. She started to zone out from the warmth of her comforter and the soothing sound of the kitten when the phone rang, waking her up.

“Hello…Oh…Hi, Simon.” She perked up even more at the sound of his voice.

“Dinner Tuesday? That would be great.” She smiled and looked at the kitten in her lap as if to say, “Things are picking up.” He climbed onto her shoulder and nuzzled her neck before settling on the cushion behind her head.

“Schiavelli’s? Sure…meet you there. Okay…bye.” In her joy over the call, she had completely forgotten any other concern she had.

“I guess we’re reconnecting, huh kitty?” She smiled at the kitten; who by now had started playing with the yarn to the new sweater she was knitting.

She hadn’t meant to get gushy at all, but she picked up the notebook that held her knitting designs. She turned to the back cover, which was filled with writing. Looking it over, she smiled, determining to add to the collection she had begun. Picking up the sharpie, she began to write.

“Beth Woodward….Elizabeth Woodward….Beth Davidson Woodward….and finally, Mrs. Simon Woodward.” She went to write another name, but hesitated. She looked at Pablo once again, who had dug his claws into her knee and was reaching to swat her pen as she wrote.

“I know...here’s one….Pablo Davidson Woodward.” She scratched the kitten’s ears once again. Fifteen minutes later, Beth lay on her side, covered by the down comforter. Lying on her on the comforter, Pablo treaded on Beth’s shoulder, alternating paws while digging sharply into her arm with his claws. Beth fell asleep, but it wasn't Simon's face she saw as she faded...she saw someone else and she was at peace, and she almost seemed to purr as well.

"Elizabeth...." Pablo nuzzled her neck as she fell asleep uttering a single word softly....

"Penn."

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The Following Tuesday:

Beth was so excited that she arrived at the restaurant a half-hour early. She walked to the podium in the front by the bar and mentioned that her boyfriend had reserved a table. The hostess looked at the sign-up register.

"I'm sorry, there's no reservation listed for Woodward. Perhaps under another name?" She smiled at Beth.

"Well, you could try Davidson, but my boyfriend made the reservations." She peered over the podium, trying to read the entries upside down. The woman half-frowned and shook her head.

"Maybe I got the days mixed up..." She thought out loud. Opening her purse, she pulled out the post-it she had written on when Simon called.

"Tuesday...7:30...Schiavelli's." She was going to show the note to the hostess but thought better of it. She pulled out her cell phone and hit the preset for Simon. The phone rang several times before going to voicemail. She shook her head and wondered what was going on. A few moments, her questions were answered painfully? She started to walk to the bar.

"Maybe he didn't make reservations...Tuesday...slow night...that must be it." She thought. She sat down at the bar and ordered an O'Doul's. As she took the first sip she heard a familiar voice.

"Excuse me…Has a Miss Davidson been here?" Simon asked.

"Why yes," the hostess said. "She was here just a moment ago."

"When she returns, can you have her join me?" he said as he pointed to the table a few feet away.

"Certainly." The hostess smiled and looked in the direction of the Lady's room. Beth was about to get up from the bar when she saw an attractive woman walk to Simon's table. She kissed him on the cheek and sat down next to him. A moment later they were holding hands. Beth couldn't believe her eyes. She rose from the stool and walked slowly over to the table.

"Oh...ohhh…Hi…Hi Beth...I wasn't expecting you so soon." Simon said as his face grew two shades darker. The woman grabbed him by the wrist. She had a very pained look on her face and a very attractive diamond ring on her left hand.

"God, Simon...you didn't tell her? Oh my God...I am so sorry." The woman sat and looked at Beth before looking back at Simon, who offered no word to either woman.

"Yeah...I'm sorry, too." Beth said as tears streamed down her cheeks. She walked out of the restaurant quickly, barely making it to her car before she collapsed behind the wheel in a torrent of tears.

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One Week Later - At the Clinic

Let's close our eyes and make our own paradise
Little we know of it, still we can try
To make a go of it

“Excuse me,” the man asked softly. “Can you tell me where I might find Dr. DiMaggio?” Janet looked up from her crossword puzzle and came face to face with the most handsome man she had ever seen. Almost silver-haired, he was about her age, making him at least sixty-five.

“Hardly anyone calls her doctor, so you must be her eleven o’clock appointment.” Janet rose and walked around the desk. She offered her hand, and the man shook it gently but firmly; a man’s handshake she thought.

“Andrea and I go way back," he said and smiled warmly.

"Hi....I’m Janet...Janet McGuire."

Janet looked into his eyes; gentle and warm, a light brown, almost amber. He smiled warmly and said,

“I knew Andrea when she was Andy and lived in the same apartment complex when we both went for our doctorates; she was two years ahead of me in the program. Seems odd to call Andy a she, but that’s what she was, I suppose.” He put his hand to his chin, as if to try to recall an important detail, which he did a moment later.

“Oh, my, I’m so sorry. My name is Cal, Cal Meacham.” He shook his head once and smiled again. “I do that all the time. Anyway, I would like you to know at least that if I do forget my own name from time to time, I rarely forget a name that goes with a pretty face."

He smiled again and took Janet’s proffered hand and shook it gently. Janet wasn’t even aware that she was shaking hands once again until she felt the soft brush of lips at the back of her hand. She was still staring at her hand when Drea came down the hall way.

“Hey old friend,” Drea said as she hugged Cal, who patted her on the back awkwardly.

“Sorry, but it still seems odd after all these years.” Cal said as he broke the embrace. Drea noticed the look on Janet’s face and quickly said, “Oh, not THAT…he just hates hugging. His own mother still wonders if she’ll get a handshake when he visits.” She laughed.

“Why don’t you come back to my office and then I’ll give you the tour, okay?” Drea said as they walked down the hall. Janet followed their progress until they entered the office suite. She was surprised that Drea was hiring someone extra to help with the hospice. Between Drea and Giselle, the intern and herself, they had it covered. Janet spent more time at the clinic than at the hospice, and it made no sense to add another counselor.

Janet also wondered about her own reaction to Cal. Apart from a handful of brief relationships after her surgery, she hadn’t entertained any significant thoughts about her status as a single woman. Certainly as well, her time had been filled with the pull of need by the hospice as well adopting a teenager girl with gender issues of her own. And yet there was something completely different going on; she hadn’t felt this way since she had a crush on Bobby Wainwright in the sixth grade. She was lost in thought for a while, recalling long forgotten feelings.

“Excuse me,” She heard that same soft voice again.

“We’ve just finished our tour,” Cal said with a smile. “I was just wondering what you were doing for lunch.” He smiled again and Janet replied.

“Nothing…are you two going out for lunch?” She found herself staring into those soft brown eyes once again. Drea noticed but didn’t let on, saying instead,

“Oh…Not us. Bella and I were going to an appointment at lunch time, but you and Cal can go. I told him about that Thai restaurant everyone seems to like.” She smiled almost conspiratorially.

“Drea tells me that you’re a tea girl.” It would have seemed incredibly rude if anyone else had asked, Janet thought, but those eyes and that voice made it seem like such an innocent question.

“Ye….yyess....since 1985.” Janet stammered. Not knowing what else to say, she said, “Dddddooo you like Thai?”

Cal smiled at her and said, “With you? Of course.” He smiled again.

“Of course.” The conversation was positively cerebral!

“Janet?" Drea interrupted. "Cal was talking about tea instead of coffee? He knows all about the home. It would be a surprise if he met anyone woman here who wasn’t tee!” She laughed.

“I’m sorry. Andrea and I chat online all the time. Since my wife Lydia’s passing several years ago we sort of leaned on each other. Drea's Annie was Lydia’s maid of honor.” His eyes seemed to twinkle when he mentioned Lydia’s name.

“You remind me a lot of Lydia…very keen eyes…like a mother eagle; you know...protective? I’ll bet you love children.”

“Boy, has he got me pegged…Oh…Drea must have said something” Janet thought almost missing the next few words.

“You favor her with your eyes…very attractive.” He said softly.

“Eyes…yes…” Janet said, she said as she stared into Cal’s eyes once again.

“Mmmmm, yes.” She said. “Eyes.”

---

Later that afternoon:

“Billie, can you come over here for a second?” Beth called from somewhere behind a desk on the other side of the office.

Billie walked over and found Beth sitting on the floor.

“This folder must have fallen out of the file. It’s stuck between the cabinet and the floor, and I’m afraid if I try to pull it out, it will rip. Can you reach over and pull up a little under the top drawer opening?”

“Sure,” Billie said, thinking to herself, “That’s the first time she’s spoken to me directly in a week.”

She reached over and lifted up slightly, freeing the folder. Beth placed it on the desk next to her and went to stand up. She had gotten wedged between the desk and the cabinet and had no traction.

“Here,” Billie said, noticing her difficulty. She placed one hand on the desk for leverage and pulled Beth up with the other hand. Billie went to turn to give Beth room to move but she realized she was still holding her hand. She looked at her hand and back at Beth, who said,

“Thanks, I’ve got it from here.”

Billie noticed Beth’s smile, which was quickly replaced with a frown. She was about to apologize when Beth said, “Oh, crap…it’s the wrong folder after all that. I’m sorry to waste your time, hon.” Beth smiled and tossed the folder on the desk.

“It wasn’t a waste of time at all,” Billie thought to herself. She was almost lost in that thought when Beth said, “Billie…you can let go of my hand now.” Another smile and a nod. Billie released her hand and Beth squeezed past her. As she walked past the credenza she noticed another folder.

“I can’t believe I missed this,” she said as Billie returned to her own desk. “Thanks anyway.”

“No problem.”

Billie returned her attention to her own work. Something made her think of a time long ago. When she was about twelve, she met Sarah McLaughlin backstage after a concert. She shook hands with her and vowed never to wash her hand again. She stared blankly until her train of thought was interrupted by a voice.

“You doing anything for lunch?” Beth was standing at her desk, almost leaning over. Like a pre-pubescent boy, she found herself staring at Beth’s cleavage.

“Luuunnnch???” She stammered, wanting to hide.

“Yes…You know…midday meal….soup…sandwiches…been all the rage for several millennia.” Beth laughed, and Billie found the down on her arms raise slightly.

“Oh…yeeahh.” She stammered once again.

“Look, you just started. My treat, okay?”

Beth put her hand out, innocently she would say later, and placed it lightly on Billie’s wrist, causing her to pull back sharply. Her hand hit the three-hour-old coffee sitting on her desk, sending it splashing onto her blouse. Beth ran to the credenza for some paper towels. She walked around to the side of Billie’s desk to hand her the wad of towels and her heel caught the edge of the carpet protector, sending her right into Billie’s arms.

“Get up…get up.” Billie almost pled, but Beth’s sweater sleeve was snagged on the armrest of Billie’s chair. Beth’s face lay inches away from Billie’s when it happened. Beth looked into those breathtakingly beautiful sea-green eyes and melted. She found herself literally letting go as her hands pushed away from the chair and she settled into Billie’s arms. With nothing to support her, Beth’s head fell forward and her lips came into contact with Billie’s cheek.

“Stop…stop it. Beth! Stop!” Billie said, but the more she spoke the words the less convinced she became. That Beth’s lips were now caressing hers may have had something to do with it.

“Staaahhhp….mmmm….sthhhaaap….mmmm.” Billie began to kiss back, first tentatively. It was the first time she had kissed a girl since she kissed Alicia DiMattea in fourth grade. A little boy may have kissed Alicia long ago, but the woman he became kissed a girl for the very first time.

“Nohhhooh…mmmm…..oooohhhh,” Beth uttered in return. A moment later they disengaged,.

“I’m sorry, Billie…I’ve never…” Beth had never kissed anybody like that. She looked away and her face turned dark pink.

“I’m so…soooo sorry.” She burst into tears and ran out of the office. Billie made a half-hearted attempt to stop her, but she was just as embarrassed and anxious as Beth.

“Oh, God, what do I do now?” It was more of an expression than a prayer. She heard a sound at the door and turned to see Irene standing in the doorway with her arms folded.

“She’s going to fire me…Oh shit…damn it!” She looked back at Irene, who smiled and said, “Well?”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Smith. I’m so sorry…it won’t happen again.” She wiped some tears from her face, almost cringing at the sight of Irene walking slowly toward her. “Please, Ms. Smith?”

“No…no…not that.” Irene said and broke out into a broad grin.

“Whhhaaaa…whaaat?” Billie looked down at her shoes.

Irene actually grabbed her by the chin and lifted her head up. “Well? Aren’t you going to go after her?” Irene took her hand and turned Billie’s face to the doorway.

“Honey…it’s okay…go.” Irene smiled again. Billie stood up and started to walk to the door. She looked back and tilted her head as if to say, “Are you sure?”

“Go.”

Next: Someone Old...Someone New...

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Let's Fall in Love
Words and Music by
Ted Koehler and Harold Arlen
as performed by Diana Krall
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fvtaOJZWwWQ