Crashing Into You

“I would not have.”

“Yeah you would’ve but I got you here now and we are already in line.” He motions for me to look and yup we are in line behind parade floats. So much for laying low.

The parade turns out not to be as big of a deal as I was making it to be in my head. It took us about forty-five minutes to roll slowly down main street tossing candy out of our windows and waving to the kids as they eagerly grabbed the treats and put them into their plastic bags. Seeing their smiles was actually fun.

Now I am standing off to the side and watching Calder in action, Calder the deputy. He’s great with kids and it’s such a turn on. Taking his time with each one, he asks their name and what they want to be when they grow up. Then he sits them in his driver’s seat, sticks a police badge sticker on their shirt, and takes their picture with a polaroid camera. Once the photograph has developed he gives them their photo along with a bag that contains safety tips and coloring books. The man takes pride in his job. The smile on his face when he is speaking to these kids makes me feel...proud of him.

The final kid accepts their items and Calder walks over to me and takes my hand. “You’re so good with them.”

“Ah, comes with the job.” His grin is infectious, and I can’t resist kissing him on the cheek.

“If you say so but I find it sexy.” I can’t believe those words came out of my mouth, but they did. Being here and watching how he is...it’s hard to resist his charm.

“I do. You ready to go see the greatest turtle race in the world.”  I am a bit miffed he ignored my sexy comment but give him a nod.

As we walk down the street holding hands, I can feel eyes on us and hear the hushed whispers. In a town like this I suppose people are bound to talk. Calder is probably Crimson Cove’s most eligible bachelor. Not to mention the cutest as well. The race is on the beach and most of the same kids who were getting their picture taken are lined up behind a box full of turtles. The raceway is marked off with red ribbon and wooden stakes leading to the ocean shore. The turtles have numbers painted on their shells and the children are so eager to see them race.

I try to release Calder’s hand, but he grips mine tighter and pulls me to the start line.

“Thank you all for joining us for the annual turtle race. The entry fee is five dollars, but the money goes back into the Andrea Michaelson Foundation. A non-profit organization started in my sister’s memory to protect the turtles of Crimson Cove. Andrea dreamed of becoming a marine biologist and coming back here to start her own rescue and I am proud to say that my parents are fulfilling her wishes.” He nods to a man and woman and I can see some family resemblance. They must be his parents. I had no idea about his sister.

After his speech he lets go of my hand to collect entrant fees and hand out turtles. Each kid takes their turtle and lines up at the start line. Once everyone is in place with their turtle Calder removes his gun from the holster and fires it up in the air signaling for the race to start. The kids release their turtles and they take off moving fast for the water. Faster than I imagined. The kids are screaming for their turtle to make it to the water first, cheering them on with vigor.

I loop my arm through Calder’s. “What’s the winner receive?”

“A trophy.” We stroll to the finish line and await the moment a winner will be declared.

The race wraps up and I am starving.

“You’ve not lived until you’ve had one of Marnie’s blooming onions.” I don’t think onion breath is what I intended but he’s so excited about me trying it I can’t tell him no. In the end he’s right. The blooming onion is delicious. We’re sitting at the picnic tables eating our food and drinking fresh squeezed lemonade when a couple approaches us. Calder’s playful demeanor immediately fades, and he becomes tense. His hand is gripping my thigh so hard, I take his hand in mine and give him a firm squeeze of my own.

The woman studies me intently and I notice she’s pregnant. The man has his hands in the pockets of his tan Dockers. His jaw ticks. “Hey.” The greeting sounds forced.

“Who’s your friend?” The woman questions.

“Roger. Carly. This is Maggie.” Calder doesn’t give me a label when he introduces me, and Carly is annoyed at the fact. I can see her studying us trying to fit together the pieces wondering if we are a couple. The way she keeps focusing on Calder it is easy to recognize there are feelings there.

“Hi. Nice to meet you.” I extend my hand to her and the last thing she wants to do is shake my hand.

“Roger runs the volunteer fire department,” Calder explains.

“Oh, so you guys are like work friends,” I state, and Calder’s hand is back on my leg but this time his touch is intimate. Which leaves me wondering if it is because he likes me or more about the fact that he had some sort of relationship with this pregnant chick.

“We go way back. Childhood friends,” Carly says, beaming in a fake demeanor at her husband. I now see the rings on their fingers.

“We were just finishing up with our food and Calder promised he’d take me on the Ferris Wheel. I’m sure we’ll see you guys around. Maybe we can get together and have dinner sometime and y’all can tell me stories about Calder in his school days. You know the embarrassing stuff.” I move to get up from the table and Calder follows my lead staying oddly silent and I hope I haven’t crossed a line. They clearly make him uncomfortable and I am eager to hear the story behind this awkward encounter.