LJ Maas - Rebecca’s Cove

BJ bent to retrieve the manual and tossed it through the door. She turned around to grab the keys and was hit full in the face with a spray of water from a sprinkler jet that lay hidden among the plants. “Jesus Chr—”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know what would happen next. While BJ was busy fighting off the water, she lost her footing on the now slick rocks. Her good luck continued to hold out, however. She fell, but instead of cracking open her skull on the stony path, she landed in a patch of elephant ear plants. The bad news was that by this time, the misters and sprinklers had all come on full force. The elephant ear patch was much softer than the rocks, but it hadn’t taken long for the ground to turn to mud.

“Motherfu—” BJ rolled toward the path, covered in mud and soaking wet, just as another sprinkler hit her in the face with a sudden jet of water. She crawled, rolled, and finally threw her body through the greenhouse door.

She fell to the ground and rolled onto her back. She lay that way in the heat of the sun for a few moments, which felt a lot longer than they actually were. Opening her eyes, she squinted and held a hand up to shade off the brilliant sunlight. A familiar head popped into view, towering over her.

“Why did I know you were in the area?” BJ said.

“Good Lord, what happened to you?” Hobie looked down at BJ, who looked as though she had just rolled through a mud puddle.

Arturo picked that moment to hop onto BJ’s stomach to be a part of things.

“Who...us? Oh, nothing much, just doing a little gardening.” Hobie didn’t mean to smile at her predicament, but the sight of

Baylor Warren—the usually cool, self-possessed woman—lying on the ground covered in mud and bits of leaves with a small dog attached to her was more than she could stand. She smiled, then had to hold her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. “Let me give you a hand.”

“No, no, I’m good, thanks.” BJ dismissed the offer with a wave. She casually wiped some mud from her cheek and clasped her hands loosely across her middle. She lay there as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “So...how are you?”

That’s when Hobie full-on lost it. She wanted to stop, especially when she noticed that the harder she laughed, the stonier BJ’s expression grew.

“Are we all done now?” BJ asked when Hobie finally slowed to intermittent giggles.

“I’m sorry, but you have to admit—”

“Yeah, yeah...laugh at a woman when she’s down. I know your type.”

“Come on. Let me help you clean up.” “Nah, go on. You’ll be late for work.”

“Hey, I’m the boss. I get to make the rules. Come on.” Hobie held out her hand once more.

“Geez, I’m falling apart,” BJ said. “Yep, it’s hell getting old.”

“No, I mean I’m really falling apart.” BJ held up a small chunk of plaster for Hobie’s inspection.

“Wow, that shouldn’t be happening.” Hobie bent down to examine the top of BJ’s crumbling cast.

“Ya think?” BJ’s sarcastic words were lost on Hobie, who seemed more concerned with her patient’s cast.

“Okay, Evel Knievel, time to patch you up.”

“You better take those clothes off at the door or you’re going to get mud on everything in sight,” Hobie said.

“Um, no, I won’t. It’ll be okay.”

“You’re covered from head to foot with mud that’s an inch thick!”

“It’s not that bad,” BJ countered.

“Look, I am a doctor. You don’t even have to take off your underwear if your sensibilities are that delicate.”

“I just can’t, okay?”

“Geez. Don’t be so silly.” Hobie made a move toward BJ’s waist and the drawstring of her pants.

“Look, I said I don’t need any help.” BJ slapped at Hobie’s hands.

“I’m trying to help you—”

“I’m not wearing any underwear,” BJ said loudly. “What?”

“What, you don’t think the neighbors heard what I said the first time?”

“Oh,” Hobie said. Suddenly, she had a vision of exactly what

Baylor Warren looked like without the aforementioned garment covering her most intimate of body parts. She could feel the heat rising within her own body, creeping up her neck, and settling on her face.

“What’s wrong with you?” “Huh? Oh, um...nothing.” “Are you blushing?”

“No! I most certainly am not.”

“Yes, you are.” BJ laughed and added a smirk for good measure. “You’re thinking about what I look like under there, aren’t you?” She leaned closer. “Shame on you, Doc.”

“I am not! Besides, why aren’t you wearing any underwear?”

BJ arched an eyebrow.

“Oh, God, forget I asked that. It’s none of my business and I really don’t want to know.”

BJ smiled as Hobie’s blush increased. She didn’t have the heart to continue embarrassing the flustered woman. She grew serious and lowered her voice, even though there wasn’t anyone else around. “I can’t get them on. My arms aren’t long enough with this cast on. As it is, I have to use a coat hanger to pull up the sweatpants. Between you and me, I’ve never really considered dressing to be a team sport. I prefer it solo, if you don’t mind.”

Awave of sympathy passed through Hobie. She realized how hard it must have been for BJ to admit to that. Not that being caught sans skivvies would shake BJ’s sexual confidence any, but Hobie understood how difficult it was for BJ to acknowledge that she couldn’t do everything herself. That admission caused her to appear vulnerable and human.

“Do you have a robe?” Hobie asked.

“Yeah, inside the bathroom on this floor. It’s hanging on a hook inside the door.”

“Okay, I’ll get it,” Hobie said.

BJ watched as Hobie left the room. She leaned heavily on both crutches, thanks to Hobie, who had waited for a pause in the greenhouse’s tropical storm and rushed in to retrieve the lost one.

BJ undressed, took a shower, and got dressed in clean clothes. She kept her self-respect, mostly due to Hobie’s adept and tactful handling of the incident.

Riding in Hobie’s now surprisingly clean truck, BJ watched Hobie out of the corner of one eye. Their breakfast outing had turned into a trip to Hobie’s surgicenter to recast BJ’s leg. They rode along in silence, but BJ’s mind was anything but still. She could only wonder at the tender compassions that this stranger, whom BJ had done nothing but spar with, showed her. It was true, they seemed to butt heads more often than not, but this woman caused BJ to feel something other than what she usually felt for women. It was definitely a feeling that made BJ feel good, but she wasn’t sure why. She didn’t enjoy feeling things and not knowing why. And when it came to Hobie Lynn Allen, BJ found that she had an awful lot of feelings she couldn’t account for.

“Thanks, Mack,” BJ said.

“No problem. Thanks for this.” He patted the paper sack in the seat next to him. “Hobie Lynn forgets to eat when she gets busy, then she hits the mat.”

“Hey, she helped me out this morning.” BJ indicated the new cast with a nod. “Her office looked pretty busy, so I came to the Cove, gave you a call, and here you are.”

“Well, thanks anyway. Sometimes she needs a keeper, ya know what I mean?”

“Lemme ask you something.” BJ bent down and leaned against the open passenger side window. “The first day I got here, you said you knocked me down when we were kids. You said something about it being because I told your sister she was ugly. Mack, you got more than one sister?”

“I always thought one was more than enough, thanks. Besides, Hobie Lynn gave me enough grief for ten sisters when we were growing up,” Mack said with a smile.

“Shit.” BJ hung her head. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

“If it helps you any, Hobie doesn’t even remember it. She was all of four or five, so I wouldn’t sweat it too much. Why do you suddenly care so much, anyway?”

“I guess I just felt like I owed her or something. I mean, she fixed my leg and...you know...” BJ trailed off nervously. Why did she suddenly feel so tongue-tied talking about Hobie?

“Right,” Mack seemingly agreed with a small grin. “I better get Sis her lunch. What are you gonna do after you eat? Need me to swing by and give you a ride home?”

“Nah, I’ll just wander, then try walking home. I can handle it.”

“I do a drive down Main Street again at three thirty. If you find you want a ride, just park yourself on the bench outside of the bakery around then.”

“You got it. Thanks, Mack.” BJ waved goodbye and watched the patrol car pull away from the curb.

Twenty minutes later, BJ sat at the Cove’s lunch counter. She had discovered a snack from heaven when JoJo set down a bowl of what looked like Tater Tots along with her cheeseburger. The tidbits were made of potatoes but filled with cheese and bits of jalapeño peppers.

“You want some more of these, Ms. Warren? Another iced tea?” JoJo asked.

“Most definitely, on both counts. These are great. What are they?”

“They’re called munchers. They happen to be from a recipe that belongs to Rebecca. Matter of fact, she asked this morning to meet you when you came in next, and what do you know...you’re here. Funny, ain’t it?”

“Yeah...funny,” BJ said slowly. “Um, sure, I’d be glad to meet her.”

After BJ finished her meal, JoJo ushered her into a separate apartment behind the restaurant. “Grandmother lives here by herself. Of course, someone’s out front until we close, but she spends her evenings on her own. I’d feel better most days if she’d come live with one of the grandkids, but she says she likes to be independent, and I guess I can’t blame her there.”