The Older Woman by Cheryl Reavis Read Free Book Online

said again.
    “Exactly,”
    Meehan
    said.

    “So will the top go down?”
    “No
    problem.”

    “Outstanding!” he said with every bit of the enthusiasm he felt.

    He hobbled around to the other side. She had the top moving before he reached the passenger-side door. It took some doing for him to get himself inside, but he managed. He sat there for a moment, admiring everything—the seats, the dash—
    Meehan’s legs. The radio worked, but it wasn’t original. Mrs. Bee apparently liked her sounds. This one had FM bass-expander stereo.

    He was beginning to feel like a kid on Christmas morning. Or the cowboy in the Thelma and Louise movie.

    “So where are we going?” he asked when he’d finished appreciating everything.

    “I’ll leave that to you.”

    “No—you pick. Anywhere you want.”

    She looked at him for a moment in a way he couldn’t quite figure out. Like she wasn’t sure he meant it—and if he did, why.

    But he did mean it. He didn’t care where they went—of course, his ensemble limited the options.

    She picked a place near the mall—the same one he would have picked actually.

    “Parking lot is pretty crowded,” she said as she pulled the car into a space.

    “No, this is fine. They have great food.”

    “And beer,” she said helpfully.

    “And beer,” he agreed.

    “You might see someone you know here.”

    “You, too,” he countered.
    “I
    don’t
    care.”

    “Well, me, neither,” he assured her.

    “This might work out then,” she said.
    “Damn
    straight.”

    “Can you walk that far? I can pull up to the door and let you out.”

    “No, I can make it.” He opened the car door. He didn’t want to be let out. He wanted to hobble across the parking lot in plain view—with her—so all those people neither one of them cared about could see them together and eat their sorry hearts out.

    It was hard work, though. He had to stop once to rest before he could make it all the way to the door. There was a line, but the bench full of paratroopers in the crowded waiting area immediately cleared a place for him to sit down. His legs hurt badly enough for him to forego the macho stuff and take it. They even made room for Meehan—which was clearly not a hardship. He didn’t miss the fact that they all appreciated her nonseethrough little dress as much as he did.

    The place was rowdy this evening. A group in a far corner had started a swaying, hand-clapping sing-along with the song playing on the jukebox, he thought more because the refrain was the same as their basic training anthem than anything else.

    “I like it! I love it! I want some more of it!”

    Doyle couldn’t keep from humming with them under his breath. He could smell the steaks grilling and the French fries and onions frying. He was in pure heaven.

    It doesn’t get much better than this, he thought.

    He glanced at Meehan. She was smiling.
    “What?”
    he
    asked.

    “It’s nice to see you enjoying yourself,” she said.

    He didn’t reply. Meehan would know that, he supposed, if anybody would. She’d certainly seen him enough times when he wasn’t enjoying himself, when he had a raging fever and was so out of it he hardly knew where he was. He was enjoying himself. This was a whole lot better than anything he’d participated in in months.

    The seating hostess called a name.

    “Hey, buddy, you take it,” a soldier close to him said.

    “Nah, that’s all right.”

    “Go ahead! You can owe me.”

    Doyle looked at Meehan. She was waiting for him to decide if he wanted to accept the favor.

    He did, and he got shakily to his feet—without help.

    “Thanks a lot,” Doyle said to him. “I appreciate it.”

    “Nice to have friends in high places,” Meehan said as they followed the hostess to the table.

    “Except he’s not a friend. I don’t know him.”

    “Then it’s nice the way you guys look after each other,” Meehan said.

    “It’s all part of the code,” he said.

    It was a