A Home for the M.D.. GINA WILKINS
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but the soft yellow looked good with her dark hair and eyes, she decided.
After consulting with Jacqui on at least three different outfits, Alice had settled finally on a screen-printed, scoop-neck, purple T-shirt and a different pair of denim shorts. Glittery purple flip-flops revealed her purple-painted toenails. She’d tied her curly hair into a sassy ponytail and wore as much makeup as her father allowed—a touch of mascara and tinted lip gloss. The result was fresh and cute and much too casual to suggest she’d agonized for a good twenty minutes over the choices.
The spreading North Little Rock park was still crowded at six on this Sunday evening. Plenty of people had taken advantage of the slight cooling of the day to make use of the 1,600-acre park’s picnic areas, hiking, biking and equestrian trails, golf course, tennis and racquetball courts, fishing lake, and sports fields for baseball and soccer and disc and miniature golf. Playgrounds and a small amusement park drew families with younger children. Jacqui had brought Alice to a birthday party at one of the pavilions there last spring, and she’d spent a couple hours exploring the park while Alice enjoyed the party.
Following the directions Mitch had left for them, they found the soccer field easily enough. But it wasn’t until Alice spotted Mitch that they were sure they’d found the right group because so many other games were going on around them.
Grinning, he loped toward them. “Glad you could make it. We’re just about to start. You want to play, Jacqui? The teams aren’t really that formal. Anyone who wants to join in is welcome.”
She had hoped the passing hours had given her time to brace herself for seeing him again. She’d told herself that increased exposure would somewhat soften the jolt of attraction that always hit her at the sight of him. No such luck. His sandy hair was tousled, his lean body nicely displayed in a blue soccer shirt and black shorts, his engaging smile warm and contagious. The too-familiar jolt hit her so hard she almost took a step back in response as she struggled to remember what he’d asked. “Um, no, thank you. I’ll just watch with Alice.”
“You’re sure? We have a lot of fun.”
She motioned toward her flip-flops. “Wrong shoes. Besides, I don’t know the game that well.”
Someone called his name from across the field. Or pitch, as Alice had referred to it. Mitch glanced that way and gave a brief wave, then looked back at Jacqui and Alice. “I’d better get back to the team.”
“Good luck with your game,” Jacqui encouraged.
“Thanks.” He turned and dashed toward his friends. They weren’t wearing uniforms, exactly, but Jacqui noted that most of the players on Mitch’s side of the field wore blue shirts.
She couldn’t resist one admiring look at Mitch’s firm backside before she made herself turn to Alice. They’d brought folding canvas chairs stowed in shoulder-strap bags, and Jacqui carried an insulated tote bag in which she’d packed bottles of water and a few healthy snacks in case Alice got hungry. Mitch had told Alice the match would last almost two hours counting breaks. If Alice wanted to stay for the entire game, they would be eating dinner later than usual.
In addition to the chair bag slung over her shoulder and the insulated tote, Jacqui carried a patchwork crafts bag that held her latest knitting project. She couldn’t sit that long without keeping her hands busy. Her knitting was so automatic by now that she would have no problem watching the game and finishing the scarf at the same time.
There weren’t a lot of spectators for the casual game. Most of the people in attendance were participants, either on the pitch or lined up on the sidelines waiting for someone to get winded and need a rest. Each team seemed to have an unofficial coach who kept their side organized, and a couple of volunteers served as officials, running up and down the field and enthusiastically blowing whistles. A great deal of noise and laughter accompanied the good-natured rivalry.
“It’s doctors versus lawyers,” Alice confided with a laugh, nodding toward the competitors while she and Jacqui set up their chairs on a patch of grass where they could see the action. “The lawyers usually wear red shirts. Mitch said some people on both teams are students and some are older. He called himself one of the ‘old guys.’ I told him that was silly. He’s not old. Not really old anyway,” she added.
Jacqui couldn’t help but smile as she took her seat. To a fourteen-year-old, thirty-one must seem fairly ancient, but at least Alice had conceded that Mitch wasn’t quite ready for a cane and a rocking chair.
The match began with a flurry of kicks and head shots. The few spectators—most of whom seemed to be women with small children to entertain, keeping them from participating in the game themselves—cheered and called out encouragement. Although Jacqui made a determined effort to watch all the players, her gaze kept drifting to one in particular. Alice, too, watched intently for a short while, explaining rules of the game that Jacqui hadn’t known, but then her attention wandered to a group of teenagers playing idly with a flying disc nearby.
“I think I know one of those girls from swim matches,” she said. “Okay if I go talk to them, Jacqui?”
“Of course.” Not particularly surprised that Alice’s attention had drifted so quickly from the game she’d begged to attend, Jacqui almost advised the girl not to wander off too far, but she resisted the impulse. She had to keep reminding herself that Alice was growing up and understandably disliked being treated like a child.
As her knitting needles clicked in a soothing rhythm, she thought back to when she’d been fourteen. Much less sheltered and supervised than Alice, she’d been more worldly and mature at that age. Her parents had left their daughters alone for hours, sometimes for a couple of days at a time while they’d pursued their own ever-changing interests or worked odd jobs to keep the family in gasoline, cheap motel rooms and food—in that order. Jacqui had been responsible for getting Olivia and herself ready for school. Neither high school graduates themselves, their parents hadn’t helped them with their homework or attended school programs with them. They hadn’t set curfews or bedtimes, and they’d shown only occasional interest in their daughters’ friends and activities.
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