STEPPING  UP

PART 10:

It was so peaceful sitting there, Steve sleeping on her shoulder. His presence

beside her. That was what made her happy. Very, very softly she hummed

Aura Lee under her breath, closing her own eyes.

"You two drunk?"

Her eyes snapped open to the unwelcome sight of Martin standing at the top

of the porch steps.

He came onto the porch, walking the few feet to stand in front of them.  Steve

was still sleeping and she continued pushing the swing with her toe.

"A bit early in the day to be zonked, isn't it?" he asked, one corner of his

wide mouth turning up.

"What do you want, Martin?" She ignored his innuendo.

"Wanted to come see you, Holli."

"Why?"

"Why not? We were married five years."

"'Were' is the operative word. And keep your voice down."

Martin tipped his head, looking at Steve. "Where's he from anyway?"

"New York. Not that it's any of your business."

"Ah, didn't think somehow he was from around here. What's he doing here?"

She glared at him, not answering.

"So, did he say something about intending to marry you?"

"Is that why you're here?"

"Did he?"

"Not your business."

"He staying in the B&B?"

She remained silent.

"Protective, are you?"

"You hurt him, you know, when you pushed him over that chair."

"Aw, couldn't be that big of a deal. He fragile or something?"

"He was already hurt. You heard him talking about that and you still

pushed him."

"So?"

"So he has every right to sue you for assault if he wants."

Martin laughed. "You know better than that!"

She did. Martin's father owned most of the judges in town. But his laugh

woke Steve, who stirred and blinked his eyes open.

It took him a minute to remember where he was but he had no idea why

Holli's ex-husband was looming in front of the swing. "Wh...what?"

"Damn it!" Holli muttered. She'd hoped Martin would leave before Steve

awakened.

Steve sat up straight, rubbing a hand over his face. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, Steve. Nothing at all is going on," Holli said.

"Why's he here?"  Steve asked, still groggy.

"Why are YOU here?" Martin said. "That's a better question."

"Why he's here has nothing to do with you, Martin," Holli responded.

"It does if I think it does."  Martin narrowed his eyes.

"I'm not your wife. Not any more."

"That was your idea, not mine."

"Just undoing a big mistake, that's all."

"So I was a mistake, eh?"

"Biggest I ever made."

"And you think this jerk is...better?"

"I know he's better."

Martin snorted. "Some punk from New York?"

Steve stood before he remembered his knee, which promptly folded under him.

He went down hard on his right hip, Holli clutching frantically at his left arm.

She ended up on both knees beside him. "Get off my porch, Martin, and don't

you ever come back!"

Steve was blowing out little puffs of breath, his hands gripping his knee. Martin

turned to leave, stopping once to say, "I'm not going to be replaced by the likes

of him."

"Martin, I left you before he ever came to town. Now just go away and leave us

alone, for Pete's sake!"

She turned her full attention to Steve, who was gritting his teeth and trying to

say at the same time that he was all right. The knee had twisted again when

Martin had shoved him over the chair, and now it had twisted more. She touched

it lightly and he winced. "Look," she said, "I know you say a doctor is out of the

question, but you've got to soak this in a hot tub and then let me wrap it for

support or this is just going to keep on happening."

Leaning heavily on her, he managed to get inside to the staircase and then sat

on it, going up step by step on his rear. It was the only way he could do it.

Holli drew him a bath, helped him off with his clothes, balancing him as he

struggled to get in.

"Ahhh," he murmured, settling down into the water. "That feels good."

"Keep the knee submerged," she said. "The warm water'll help."

The phone rang and she ran to get it, returning with it in her hand. "It's Dad.

Wants to talk to you."  She shrugged in answer to his questioning expression

and passed him the phone.

"Norman?"

"Yeah, Steve, just wanted to see how you're doing today, Son."

Steve smiled, pleased that Holli's father would care. "Fair to middlin',"

he replied. "Just fell on it again, twisted it a bit more. Ah, thanks, sir,

but I'll be all right. Soaking it in hot water as we speak. Yeah. Holli's

taking good care of me. The steps? Well, looks like it'll be a while before

I can get back to that. I know. Yes, means I'll be here longer." He looked

up at Holli and winked. "Yes. That's right. Thanks for checking on me.

Yes. Thanks again."

When the water had cooled and Holli had dried him, he lay again atop

towels on the violet bedspread as she applied fresh ointment and new

gauze over the large scrape on the side of his left knee. "Won't put on the

ace till you get up again, ok. Better for the scrape I think to get a bit more

air."

"I'm not getting up?"

"Not right now you're not, Mister. I need to check you over...thoroughly...

to see where you need more ointment on your scratches."

"How thoroughly?"

"Very thoroughly," she grinned, brandishing a large tube of Neosporin.

"Now roll over."

"Just like a trained dog," he mumbled, turning slowly to accommodate

his knee.

"Arf!" she laughed.

He folded his arms, resting his right cheek on his hands. "Hey, you look

better today," she commented. "Most of the scratches aren't so red."

He closed his eyes, feeling really relaxed after the long, warm bath, as

she carefully applied ointment with her fingertip  down the longer, deeper

scratches on his shoulders.

"Why did he come?" he asked, not opening his eyes.

"Martin?"

"Yeah. Why was he on the porch?"

She paused, a blob of Neosporin still on her finger. "I always figured he

thought he was well rid of me, you know. But Tara's death seems to have

attracted his attention and then he found out about you."

"Why would he care about me?"

"Because...well, because I guess he thinks that if I'm with somebody, anybody

else, that means I think they're somehow better than him. And he doesn't like

that. His ego is about as big as they come."

"You think he'll cause any trouble?" Steve opened one eye.

"Jeeze, I hope not! I hadn't expected he'd care at all."

She applied the blob to a scratch down the back of his thigh then asked him to

turn back over. He complied, but lay with his right forearm over his eyes,

thinking.

"Steve?"  Her voice was very soft.

He moved the arm slightly, just enough to see her.

"It'll be all right. He never focuses on any one thing for long at a time. He'll

forget about us within the week."

"I don't like the way he talks to you, Holli."

"He's talked like that for a long time. Our honeymoon was over fairly quickly."

Steve moved his arm back up, clamping his lips together, and she returned to

ointment application. "Don't let him get to you, Darling," she said. "Don't let

him spoil a single minute we have together, ok?" She bent over, kissing his

belly button.

He peeked out from under his arm. She'd kept her head there, lips poised just

a fraction above where she'd kissed, and he could see her cheeks were filling

with air.

"God, NO, Holli!" he cried, sitting up and grabbing for her. "I'm ticklish there!"

"ARE you?" she chortled, giving him a giant raspberry.

He clutched her shoulders and she threw back her head and laughed. "Raspberry!

It just hit me!"

"You don't think I've had enough of raspberries, do you?" he mock-growled.

"Obviously not," she giggled, going for his belly button again.

"No you DON'T!" he bellowed, grabbing her and pulling her up so she lay,

still heaving with laughter, along his side as he lay back.

As her laughter subsided, she nuzzled up under his chin. "You'll get Neosporin

in your hair," he said quietly.

"It'll make it shiny," she purred, rubbing her nose along his jaw line.

"God, Holli," he said, "I can barely move and yet I want you so."

She kissed his ear.

"And there's almost no part of me not covered with Neosporin."

"I can think of...one...part," she whispered into his ear.

"Oh," he smiled. "Well, there is that one."

"Can't let a perfectly good, un-Neosporined part go to waste, now can we?"

she murmured.

"I don't suppose we can," he agreed.

ON TO PART 11

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