Pearl put her head on the table.
How could she forget? He probably thought she was trying to avoid him and their lunch plans. Will he believe that it was just a mistake?
"Miss Guthrie, are you alright?"
That sounded like the manager's voice.
Slowly, she lifted her head and smiled shyly. "I'm fine. Forgot where I was but I'm okay, thanks."
"Okay then," he said to one of his favourite customers. "Let me know if you need anything."
"Thanks, Roland. I think I'll order the starter now."
Roland signalled a waiter to come take her order. "Thanks," she said as he moved away.
Pearl took a compact make up case out and quickly examined herself. Her blush was already fading and the worry in her eyes was only natural. Her hair and make-up looked just fine, and there was no way her hair was moving with the amount of hairspray that was in there today.
Finding nothing amiss, she put it away as the waiter approached her and she ordered something for her and Jesse. Then Pearl sat back and kicked herself mentally for forgetting the original arrangement with Jesse. Pearl could imagine him going to her office and realising she wasn't there. She fought the heat was spreading through her cheeks again. It had been a genuine mistake, she assured herself and he wouldn't be mad.
When Jesse walked in, he saw Pearl almost instantly. The room was pretty full, with other customers already seated at other tables and eating their lunch, most likely to get back to work on time, but Pearl stood out even in a crowded restaurant.
"Dining alone, sir?"
Barely looking at waiter, he shook his head and gestured mutely. Jesse started toward the table, taking in the appearance of his lunch companion.
At first glance, she looked composed and ridiculously beautiful. Not seeming bothered at all that she had come close to standing him up.
That was, until she saw him too.
Then her face was infused with an unmistakable pink blush. She looked so cute it made him smile.
All his annoyance vanished as she rose to her feet, cheeks flushed.
"I'm sorry," she said again, putting her hands to her cheeks, eyes squeezing shut in embarrassment.
He put his hands on her shoulders in reassurance. "I'm not mad, Pearl. Really."
She opened her eyes and searched his face for the truth. After a moment, she nodded. "Okay."
"Shall we sit?"
"Okay," she said again as he helped her into her seat.
"You look great," he told her, taking his own seat.
"Thank you."
"Because you've just made it obvious, I don't register that high on your scale of relevance," he teased, "do you look this gorgeous every day at work?"
She blushed. "No. I had a reunion today with my old sorority sisters."
"Let me guess," he said, still amused at her discomfort. "Phi Gamma O?"
She wrinkled her nose. "Alpha Delta Chi."
"Touché," he grinned. "It explains the look entirely." Pause. "It doesn't, however, explain how you would deliberately leave me behind…"
"Jesse! I'm sorry," she insisted. "I forgot."
"This is the second time you've forgotten a meeting with me," he mused.
He was right.
She gave him another meek smile as the waiter placed steaming dishes on the table.
"A peace offering," she said.
"Accepted," he said with grace. "Really."
The first cheese and bacon filled mushroom went into his mouth and he smiled. "Truly. This is scrumptious."
Pearl sat back, now sure he wasn't angry with her. She was glad he liked what she had ordered too. The tension rolled off her shoulders and she relaxed, relieved.
Off to an easy start.
After they had ordered what they were going to eat for lunch, Jesse regarded Pearl Guthrie with open curiosity.
"Are you ready to talk about you, now?"
She wrinkled her nose again and said, "Sure." Pause. "What do you want to know?"
"Everything you're willing to tell me. In my previous professional role, I was the type to get a full history before making any calls."
She nodded in understanding. He'd done a second Master's degree in Psychiatry, so a comprehensive story was something that made sense to him.
"I qualified for the national track and field team at the age of sixteen but my parents wouldn't let me go to the Olympics because of school. When I got to university, there was a lot of hype about what I could do for my school."
She didn't look proud of the status her skills gained her, but Jesse didn't push her. He wanted to hear all she would tell him.
"I was the poster girl for the sports department, I was pulled from track meet to championship and my doctor was on call 'just in case'."
"Wait," Jesse interrupted, "your doctor was 'on call'? Why?"
"I'm asthmatic but I loved the sport so much and everybody needed me so I took calculated risks."
"Everybody needed you, huh?"
She shrugged, "Hey, I was young. I can't say I didn't enjoy the attention. I had friends who needed me at their parties, in their sororities… the school needed me for endorsements and sponsorships. That's the way I saw it for a long time. If you go there today, there are five students each semester enjoying the Pearl Guthrie Bursary but it'd have never existed if I had not run."
"So a sponsor named their bursary after you? Impressive."
Pearl shrugged again with a smile. Then she continued.
"After a dusty day I was feeling kind of weak and my doctor had recommended rest for the weekend," Pearl said.
She paused as the waiter arrived to put their plates in front of them.
"Don't tell me that's how the whole thing came to be," Jesse said, placing his glass to the side. He was drinking up all the new information with interest. "God spoke to you on a quiet afternoon?" he asked disbelievingly.
Pearl laughed out loud. "That hardly sounds like a fitting end to my story, right?" she said mockingly.
He smiled, slightly apologetic.
"That's not how it ends," she assured him. "I ran and ran," she said softly. Not so much as an afterthought as for Jesse's benefit, "And won." Pause. "And got worse. My doctors would warn me that I was pushing it and I would slow down. And then there'd be another track meet and my team would need me. So I'd take one for the team and they would spoil me for days after," she laughed. A hollow sound. "They presented me with a t-shirt once."
"What did it say?'
"The perfect wingman," she recalled. "On the front it had feet with wings under the caption. Then on the back it said 'the legs we stand on'."
"Wow. Everyone was counting on you, huh?"
"Everyone including your brother!" Pearl chuckled.
"Sam?"
"I was his wingman when we went out sometimes."
"You still are," he pointed out with humour.
She smiled in acknowledgement. "But he has cooled down a lot since college. More so since getting married." Then she waved a hand. "I digress. That was not the point of mentioning the wingman shirt."
"Did you take one too many for the team?"
She tilted her head to one side and regarded him. "I guess you could say that. My doctors' stern warning put me back in bed before the track meet of all track meets."
"Was it an NCAA track event?"
She nodded. "My mother didn't understand why all the exercise wasn't helping my lungs overcome asthma and I asked my doctor not to tell her it was because of too much. But she was definitely going to be there for the regional championships. I had convinced her that my health situation wasn't that bad."
As a doctor, Jesse knew that too much of a good thing wasn't always beneficial. And more particularly, too much exertion for an asthmatic person was suicidal.
"I was still half ready to quit before the competition but I was more or less one of the fastest times to beat, so the odds were in my favour. Before I went out on the track, my coach gave me this grateful smile. His look of gratitude was like a sucker punch. Then the cheer that went up when I walked out boosted my confidence. I knew by then that I could win easily but my body had taken a slight hit the day before. Everything hurt."
Jesse watched Pearl go back, in her mind, to the day he suspected her life had changed forever.
"I said a prayer as I knelt down at the starting line, then I focused on the finish line. I zoned out and waited for the gun." Pause. "Pow… and I was off."
She stopped to eat a little. Jesse waited.
"The sounds started creeping back as I went on and by the sound of it, someone was making a fast getaway. I'm not the kind of runner who would check out the competition but once I got to the finish line- I could hear the crowd going crazy and I looked around, at the screen- saw my name and blacked out."