Free The Cork Contingency by R.J. Griffith Page B

wonder if I should slip my boots off and see how bad they are. A slice of sunlight broke through the gray sky above and warmed the top of her head. She closed her eyes, leaned her head back against the worn stone, and breathed in the scent of wet earth, tree blossoms, and a freshly lit fire . She loosened her hair from its bun and it fell past her shoulders. She ran her fingers through the ends and thought about the kiss.
    “Meggy,” Donnell called. He waved at her from the doorway. He jogged the short distance to her, then crouched down and braced his forearms against his legs. “You’re so pretty with your hair down.”
    Margaret struggled to meet his gaze.
    “Are you OK? Do you want to go back to the car?”
    “No, I mean, yes. “ Margaret searched for the right words in her head. I don’t have time for a relationship. We are too different. You’re making me face feelings I’ve hidden for so many years. She gave up and waved at her feet. “I don’t know if I’ll make it back to the car. I think I have blisters and I feel exhausted.”
    “Just around the block a ways is a chemist. They’ll have something for your feet.”
    “A chemist?”
    “You know, a drug store. We’ll get you bandaged up and then find a place for lunch. Does that sound OK?”
    Margaret nodded.
    The building held a vintage charm from the outside and stood proud with its oak sign, along the row of shops. Margaret snapped a few photos and then hobbled through the glass front door onto shining wood floors. A hint of lemon cleaner drifted on the air.
    “Here, I found them.” Donnell came up to her.
    The woman rang up the purchase.
    Outside Margaret sank down onto a backless wooden bench, unzipped her boots and rolled down her socks. She choked back a gasp when she spotted her tarantula-black, hairy legs and swiftly yanked her socks back up.
     
     
     
     

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    “Let me see you blisters. The way you gimped here, they must be bad.”
    “Actually, I’m feeling much better.”
    “You’re an RN, right? What happens to blisters that don’t get taken care of?”
    “I won’t get gangrene, Donnell. I just overemphasized the matter, had an emotional moment, and now I’m fine.” She swallowed and pasted on a smile.
    “Fine, huh.” He grabbed her foot and propped it against his knee.
    Margaret winced, and then hid her face behind her hands.
    “You sure are squeamish for a nurse.” He tugged at the toe of her sock until it pulled off.
    Why couldn’t I have fallen and gotten a head injury?
    His rough hand turned her foot to the side and he gently bandaged the oozing blister. He placed her foot on the ground and repeated the process for the other foot.
    “You know what they say, nurses make lousy patients.” She tried to chuckle, but kept visualizing her Sasquatch legs.
    “I’m done. You can look now.”
    Margaret uncovered her eyes. Two bandaged heels on two hairy legs. She shoved her feet back into her socks and boots. “Didn’t you say something about lunch?”
    “Yeah, it’s back toward the English Market. Can you handle the walk?”
    Margaret stood. The bandages cushioned her heels. “My feet feel much better. Thanks.”
    Donnell led her up town to a bistro they passed earlier in the day. The cloud cover overhead looked sketchy, so they seated themselves inside next to the window looking out at the street. The waiter brought their salads on a silver tray.
    Margaret loaded her fork with lettuce and popped it into her mouth.
    “Do you own any pets?” Donnell asked.
    She held her finger up as she finished chewing, then swallowed and said, “No, but I like dogs a lot. I always thought I would get one after school finished, and I got established at a hospital, but that never happened. I just couldn’t find the time for it. What about you?” She took another bite.
    “Not any more. My da use to let me keep random animals I found for a week or two and then make me let them go. When we were driving through Texas and got a