Free Love Becomes Her by Donna Hill Page B

their date. He had a meeting with his coach and the team doctor in Florida who wanted him to begin a restricted training program to see how the knee was coming along.
    When he told her he would be going away for a few days, she actually felt sad, maybe disappointed was a better word. Sure she was glad that he had come far enough to go back into training, but she would miss him. The time they’d spent together was balm for her soul. She felt complete and looked forward to the days ahead.
    She took a stack of towels from the supply cabinet as she prepared for her next patient. The reality was, she mused as she placed the towels on the exercise table, if she planned on continuing a relationship with Michael she would have to get used to his traveling, being away from her for weeks, sometimes months, at a time. She sighed and pressed her lips together in thought. Was that what she wanted—a part-time lover?
    Her years of marriage to Marvin had molded her in a way. She enjoyed the daily routine, of waking up next to her husband, always knowing she had a “date” for the holidays, someone always there at the end of a hard day to listen to her, and for her to be a shoulder, as well. Could it ever be that way again? Could it ever be that way with Michael? It would beseveral years before he would hang up his sneakers. Was she willing to wait?
    Whoa, she was getting way ahead of herself. They’d made no lasting commitment to each other. And if she knew nothing else, great sex didn’t a solid relationship make.
    “Barbara, your next patient is here. Mrs. Wells.”
    Barbara turned and forced a smile. “I’m ready. Send her in.”
    Mrs. Wells was one of her favorite patients. She was a young ninety years old and had broken her hip in a horseback riding fall nearly six months earlier. Unlike most senior patients with that kind of injury, Mrs. Wells was determined not to become an invalid. She’d made a miraculous recovery and was walking with a cane, something that really “pissed her off,” her feisty patient would say. “Makes people think I’m old.”
    Barbara smiled for real when Veronica Wells walked into the room, head held high, back straight, accompanied by her husband, Herb. They’d been married sixty years and both swore they had another sixty in them.
    “And how is my favorite patient today?” Barbara beamed.
    “She’s still pissed off,” Herb announced.
    Veronica elbowed him in the side. “I’d stop being pissed off if I could toss this infernal cane.”
    Barbara came over to help her to the table, but Veronica waved her off.
    “I can manage.” She set her cane aside and took off her stylish trench coat. She looked up at Barbara, placed her forefinger beneath Barbara’s chin and turned her face from side to side. Veronica’s right brow rose an inch. “New lover?” she asked, unabashed.
    Barbara blinked several times while the question ricocheted around in her head looking for traction.
    “You can tell me. I’ve been around long enough to have heard everything and I can tell when a woman has had great sex, a mile away.”
    “Veronica!” Herb warned. “You have to excuse her, Barbara. She hasn’t taken her medication this morning. She’s a little crazier than usual.”
    Veronica turned to her husband and clucked her tongue. “Can you honestly stand there, Herb, and tell me that this woman doesn’t look radiant? And what is the one thing that puts a glow in a woman’s cheeks and a secret sparkle in her eyes? Great sex!” She nodded her head definitively. “Don’t you always say that to me after we’ve done it?”
    Herb shook his head in surrender. “I think I’ll wait outside.”
    “Good! Let us girls talk.” She waved him off, then turned her attention back to Barbara. “Is he cute at least?”
    Barbara started to laugh, a deep soul-stirring laugh of release. “Yes, very,” she was finally able to say.
    “That’s a start,” Veronica said, waving a finger inBarbara’s face.