40 comments/ 101595 views/ 62 favorites Bowl Me Over By: Tony155 Tim walked into the Plaza Lanes Bowling Center pulling his four ball carrier behind him. It was moderately crowded for a Saturday, but he needed the practice and the manager always gave him a discount. It had been a few weeks since the fall bowling season had ended and Tim had decided to bowl in a spring league to stay sharp for the numerous tournaments that he had entered for the spring and summer. Tim was a very good bowler, certainly not good enough to be a professional, but he was one of the better bowlers in the city. He went to the main desk and asked for a pair of lanes. Plaza Lanes was about thirty years old and had forty-eight lanes. Tim had worked there while in high school and college and was still good friends with the management, even though he didn't bowl there that often. He talked with Patrick Schobel, the weekend manager, for a few minutes before taking his equipment to lanes thirteen and fourteen. As he was putting on his shoes, noticed a petite redhead to his left. It wasn't so much noticing her, but hearing the sound of the pins crashing when her ball hit them. He always took notice of good bowlers, male or female, when he practiced, and the sound of the pins being hit with authority piqued his interest. Tim was not prejudiced when it came to bowling with or against females. He liked to bowl with them, but it was rare when he found a female who could beat him. After he put his bowling balls on the ball return, Tim stepped back and watched her throw her next ball. Her form was excellent, her arm swing straight and shoulder high, and her follow through was flawless. Her ball slid for about forty-five feet before it took a sharp left turn and crashed into the pins, sending them all flying. Tim stepped up to the approach after picking up his favorite ball and studied his target. Stiff and awkward, he went through his delivery and threw the ball down the lane. It missed the head pin as the ball slid to the right. Tim came back to the ball return trying to stretch his arm and shoulder in hopes of loosening the muscles. He heard another solid crash from his left and he knew from the sound that she had thrown another strike. He picked up his spare, feeling his body starting to loosen up a bit, and moved to the other lane. After a few more deliveries, he became more comfortable and began stringing strikes of his own. Glancing over her way from time to time, Tim began to admire her style and how well she bowled. He was duly impressed and stopped his own practice to watch. She didn't appear to take any notice of him and continued her session. Every once in a while, she would miss her target and throw a bad ball, but it didn't happen very often. After one such errant toss, she came back to the ball return and looked at Tim. "You won't learn much by watching me," she said in a soft, pleasant voice. "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure," Tim replied, "you throw a very good ball." She said nothing as she turned back to pick up her spare. Tim went back to his lanes and began practicing again, using different balls, speeds, and angles to make it tougher on himself. After five minutes or so, it was she who was watching as Tim's ball went right of his intended target and barely touched the head pin. He picked up the spare without difficulty and saw her watching him. "You need to move your target in and your feet a few boards to the right," she suggested. "I know," Tim replied, "I'm just trying different things right now. I can strike any time I want," he added. "Oh really?" she said. "Let's see a strike, now." "Which ball do you want me to use?" he asked. She looked at his arsenal and pointed to a yellow, blue, and green swirled ball and said, "Use the Hammer Blade." "Okay," he said as he put down the red ball that he had been using. "Which lane?" "My lane, eleven," she replied, smiling, seeing if Tim would do it. Nice smile, Tim thought to himself as he stepped over to lane eleven. Very nice. He lined himself up when he stepped onto the approach. He figured that the lane's oil pattern wouldn't be much different than what he was using, so he tried the same speed and angle he had used when he was striking consistently. The ball went squarely into the pocket as the pins went down quickly and into the pit. "Impressive," she remarked, nodding her approval. "Thanks," Tim replied as he waited for his ball. "The lanes seem pretty easy today," he added. He picked up his ball and started to return to his lanes. "Well?" she said, after he had placed his ball back on the ball return with the others. "Well what?" "Aren't you going to challenge me to do it?" "Challenge you? No, I think you could strike any time you really wanted to. You're really very good." Tim picked up another ball, stood on the approach, and threw another strike. Returning from his delivery, she was still looking at him with her soft brown eyes. Tim met her gaze and studied her momentarily. She was quite pretty, whomever she was. Her curly, fire-red hair was pulled back in a pony tail and she was wearing a North Texas State tee shirt and loose fitting jeans. She was thin and petite on top and her narrow waist flared out slightly to her hips. Tim was surprised that she could get that much power from her small body. "I would challenge you, however," he continued, "to tell me your name. I don't remember seeing you around before and I know most of the really good women bowlers." She dropped her eyes from the face that she had been studying. She thought she had seen him before from somewhere, but she couldn't place him. "Well, you haven't seen me because I've been in school and I just graduated." "North Texas?" he asked, pointing to her shirt. "Yes, three years on varsity." "It shows. What brings you back to Indiana?" "My family's here and I didn't really care for the west that much. I figured I'd come back, get a job, bowl in a league this spring to keep in shape, and go from there." Tim stepped towards her a few steps. "I'm Tim Rougeau and you are...?" "Pleased to meet you, Tim," she replied, deftly avoiding telling him her name. She liked his looks and thought that he wasn't much older than she. She checked for rings, didn't see any, but you never knew with guys. Tim sighed quietly. He glanced at her scoreboard above the lanes and saw the initials "SU" on the screen. He looked back at her and smiled. "I'll bet you a coke that you can't strike on your next ball. Use any ball you want." Puzzled, she said, "Okay," and went back to her lanes. She picked out a ball, stepped on the approach, and threw another strike. The graphics on the scoreboard read, "Three strikes in a row for Sara Uttermolen!" Tim chuckled to himself. "Nice ball, Sara," he grinned, proud of his discovery. Sara smiled back, hands on hips, knowing he got her. Shaking her head, she went to the other lane and threw another ball while Tim resumed his practice as well. After Tim finished his first game, he remembered that he owed Sara a drink. She was trying to pick up a difficult spare. After she missed it, knocking down three of the four pins, Tim asked, "Do you want that coke now or would you like something else? Beer? Water?" "A coke would be fine. Thanks." Sara looked at him as he turned to leave. "Hey, Tim?" Tim turned back to her. "Yeah?" "Why don't you pay for your game and join me? I really don't like practicing by myself." Tim nodded. "Okay, I'll do that." Minutes later, he returned, cokes in hand, and gave one to Sara before he moved his equipment to her lanes. As he sat beside her at the scorer's table, he asked, "What spring league did you sign up for?" "Mixed Classic on Monday night." Surprised, Tim exclaimed, "Great! I'm in that league, too. Do you have a partner?" "No. You?" She asked before she took a sip. "No, I wanted to be surprised." Sara thought for a few seconds about Tim, thinking she could do a whole lot worse if the lanes picked a partner for her. He seemed pretty nice and he was a really good bowler, so those were the positives. She couldn't think of any negatives. She looked back at Tim, who was putting his name in the computer under hers. "Would you want to team up with me? Unless, of course, you still want to be surprised." "I hate surprises," he grinned, thinking it would be fun to team with her. "Good, I love competition even if it's on my own team." "At least there'll be competition for you," he said. "What do you mean?" "I mean there won't be much to keep me interested. Look, you're good, but..." "Okay, okay," she interrupted, "so you're saying that I won't offer much competition for you, that I shouldn't even dare be on the same lane with you. Is that it?" Her eyes were narrowed and her nostrils flaring. I've got a live one here, Tim thought as he looked at her. She's really pissed. He held out his hands, palms outward. "Whoa, I was only kidding," he said sincerely. "It was a joke." Her expression changed almost instantly, her eyes going back to a softer brown as she exhaled audibly. "Well, that's a relief. I thought I was going to have an ex-partner before we even started!" They resumed their practicing for the next half hour, offering tips and suggestions to each other throughout. They communicated well with each other and both were looking forward to bowling together in league play in two days. They ended their session with a friendly "serious" game whereby the winner got a dollar. They were fairly even throughout, but Sara got two strikes in the tenth frame to beat him 213-209. She gloated triumphantly and plucked the dollar bill from his hand after he took it from his wallet. "Nothing like a gracious winner," he said, feigning disgust. "And you thought I wouldn't give you any competition. Ha!" Secretly, Tim wished he could say that he let her beat him, that he didn't try very hard, but she beat him fair and square and just bowled better when it counted. "Okay, you think you're so good," Tim said, "how about we do this every night, a dollar per game and a dollar for high series? You'll only lose about forty dollars to me." "You're on, buddy," she laughed. "You'll be lucky to win a game after I'm through with you!" "Yeah, right." They packed up their equipment and went to the front desk to pay. Tim paid for both, he insisted, and he asked Patrick to make them partners in the spring league, which Patrick promised to do. They walked to the parking lot where Sara's pickup truck was closest to the door. She placed her equipment in the bed and they talked for a few minutes before they left. Driving home, Sara listened to the radio and hummed along happily. Her mind drifted back to Tim and their practice session and she smiled to herself. She was really glad that he was going to be her partner for the next thirteen weeks. She could use a little diversion from her ex-boyfriend, Scott, whom she broke up with a few weeks prior to her graduation and left him behind in Texas. Compulsive and controlling, he tried his hardest to keep her with him. But, she was not in love with him and didn't wish to continue their relationship, nor did she want to keep in contact with him. He was never physically abusive to her, but the mind games he continually played with her made that decision much easier. He could be nice at times, even sweet when the moment suited him, which was not often. They had met at the end of her junior year and had dated on and off for most of her senior year, but she found herself happier when she wasn't around him as much. She was even happier that he hadn't tried to contact her since she returned to Indiana. It made it much easier for her to concentrate on her new job and finding a place to live. She certainly didn't want to live with her parents for too much longer since she was used to being on her own. Sara was really looking forward to the competition of the league and with Tim. Since her collegiate career had ended, she still bowled occasionally, but the competitive fires still burned within her and she sensed that Tim was as competitive as she, no matter how laid back he appeared. He seemed like he was going to be a lot of fun, although Sara had no intention whatsoever of getting into another relationship. Not this soon, not when she was just getting settled into a routine. She just wanted to bowl and have fun. "Nice ball," Tim said sarcastically after Sara's throw slammed through the head pin and left a huge split. Sara shook her head in disgust as she tried to figure out what she did wrong. Reading her puzzlement, Tim said, "You dropped your shoulder and eased up on your speed." Sara nodded in agreement before she picked up two of the four pins left standing from her first throw. She had done well in her first two games, 198 and 221, but now, in the fifth frame of the third game, she was struggling with a 74. Tim had effortlessly put games of 217 and 233 together and had the first five strikes going in the third. The pace was fast and Sara barely had a chance to catch her breath before it was her turn again. Tim didn't strike in the sixth frame and settled for a spare. Sara cleared her mind as she stood on the approach and studied her target. She went into her delivery, the ball snapping off of her fingers as she rotated her wrist violently through her release. This is how she had generated so much power, Tim had discovered. She hit her target perfectly and the ball slammed into the pocket as the pins exploded with a crash. "There you go!" Tim exclaimed. "You're back on it." "Thanks," she said as she sat down at the scorer's table. That ball felt great, she thought to herself. She settled in the seat and watched Tim as he stood on the approach. Sara was enjoying herself very much. Their opponents were skilled bowlers, too, and she really enjoyed the competition. Tim was turning out to be an excellent partner. His observations and tips were top notch and he was as good a coach as any that she had in college. A big plus was his humor, which he employed judiciously, making fun of her as well as himself whenever he did bad. Tim picked up another spare and it was her turn once more. They sat in a booth in the lounge waiting for their orders. Sara reached into her wallet and pulled out four dollars and handed them across the table to Tim. "Ah, an ATM of my very own," Tim laughed as he took the money from her. He beat her 244-188 in the last game, taking the series total also. "Don't get too used to that," she replied, "I just had an off night." "There's nothing wrong with a 600 series," he said. "I should have done better. I just couldn't get anything going with any consistency," she complained. "Don't worry about it. We won all of the points, you got a 600, and I got four bucks from you. It worked out very well, I think." "Yeah, you're right, except for the last part, though. That will change, starting next week." "If you say so," he said, "but I might start to get used to getting paid every week. Heck, I might even quit my job and start living off of you." "Yeah, right," she shot back, "four bucks a week will go really far for you." Their food arrive presently and they chatted about their bowling that evening and their plans for the fall and winter. Neither had signed up for a fall league, yet, but were exploring their options. They talked about music, other sports, and their jobs. Sara had recently joined the county MIS staff and worked with the adult probation department's computer system. Tim was a high school math teacher enjoying his three month vacation. Born and raised in the area, he taught at the same school from which he graduated six years earlier. He was also the school's varsity bowling coach, Sara found out, thus discovering his talent for helping her. Before they knew it, it was going on ten-thirty and Sara had to get up early the next day. They paid their bills and Tim walked her to her pickup, this time putting her equipment in the bed for her. They walked to the driver's door and Sara unlocked it. She turned to Tim and said, "I had a good time. Thanks for the help. I'll be sure to win at least one game next week." "I'll be looking forward to it," Tim said. "I guess I'll see you next week, then." "Yep, see you then." She got into the truck as Tim stepped away and headed to his car. The wind started to whip up and Tim pulled his jacket collar up on this unusually cool May evening. He heard Sara's truck rumble to a rough start and turned to watch her pull away. He put his own equipment in the trunk of his car before leaving in the same general direction as his partner. The next few weeks went by quickly and true to her word, Sara started to win games against Tim as her average steadily climbed. Tim stayed pretty much in the 215-220 average range, normal for him. As a team, they won more than they lost and were in the upper level of the standings as the seventh week of the season came upon them. They stayed afterward each week for a bite to eat, now usually sharing a pizza, and they enjoyed each other's company. Almost everyone in the league assumed that they were a couple, but it simply wasn't the case. Even though it had crossed Tim's mind to ask her out, Sara made it clear from their discussions that she wasn't interested in dating anyone at that moment. They had developed a good, friendly relationship during those weeks and each were content to leave it at that for the time being. Tim arrived early that evening to get his thumb hole widened at the pro shop before their bowling was to start. He had been having trouble releasing his ball lately and he felt that the change was needed. After the problem was corrected, he returned to the lanes to find Sara getting ready. Tim did a double take as he saw her place one of her balls on the ball return. She was wearing black dress pants and a snug fitting red polo shirt that showed off her petite figure nicely. Her wavy red hair hung loose instead of being pulled back. Tim let out a low whistle as he sat down. Sara turned his way, arched a brow and said, "What was that for?" Tim shrugged his shoulders. "I've never seen you in anything but jeans and tee shirts. You look really nice tonight. What's the occasion?" "No occasion," she replied, "I had to work late and I didn't have time to change." She smiled to herself from the compliment. Tim had a hard time keeping his eyes off of her. She was wearing a small amount of makeup that really brought out her dark brown eyes and her slacks hugged her hips sweetly. Throughout the evening, Tim found himself concentrating more on her than on his own game and his scores suffered slightly because of it. And he was more interested in Sara's derriere on the approach than paying attention to her game and how she was throwing. After the second time in which she asked him a specific question about her game and he couldn't give her a substantial answer, the realization struck her that he was more interested in her than her game that evening. He apologized and promised to watch her game more closely the next time. And he did, offering a suggestion that helped her immediately. From that moment on, he made a true effort to concentrate on her game and less on her butt. He scolded himself for getting worked up, but heck, she was the first girl he had been interested in since Janice. Afterward, he was unusually quiet as they shared their customary pizza. He had bowled bad, they were beaten badly by the other team, and Sara won two dollars from him. "What's up?" she asked, breaking the silence. "Oh nothing," he replied absently, preoccupied with thoughts of her and Janice. He couldn't believe he let her back in his mind again. "Just thinking, that's all." "I can give you the two bucks back," she said, hoping to amuse him. Bowl Me Over "Keep it, you beat me." Tim looked off into space. "Okay." Tim looked back at her and sighed. "It's just some stuff," he tried to explain, "no big deal." "You just don't seem like yourself tonight," she countered. "Are you feeling okay?" "Yeah, fine," he replied quickly, too quickly. Sara smiled at him and he suddenly felt uncomfortable and nervous. Tim shifted in his seat. "Oh, come on, Tim. I think I've been around you long enough to know when something's bugging you." She looked at him intently. "Is it me? Did I say something wrong?" "No, no, you didn't do anything. It's just that..." He looked away for a moment. "I've been thinking about this for a while and I know you've said you didn't want to, but I thought maybe..." "What?" she asked, exasperated. This was so unlike him to stammer and stutter about. "I was just wondering if you'd like to go out with me, you know, outside of bowling." There, he finally got it out. "So, that's what's been bothering you all evening, wanting to ask me out?" She was flattered by the offer. Tim nodded. "Well, yeah, that and how pretty you looked. You're quite a distraction." Sara blushed slightly, smiling. "So, what did you have in mind?" "Heck, I don't know. I'm making this up as I go!" Sara laughed softly as Tim let a smile escape his lips, happy that she hadn't turned him down. A few seconds went by before Sara began to shake her head. "What?" Tim asked. "Oh, I was just thinking about how I didn't want to jump into another relationship." "We could fake it." "What are you talking about?" she asked, puzzled. "We could pretend to date a few times," he explained, "you know, kind of like a trial basis, then we could go out on a real date. Then we wouldn't be jumping in." "You're silly," Sara laughed, "but we might as well date for real. Everyone thinks we're dating anyway." "How true," he agreed, "although it's not the best reason to date." "No, no, I didn't mean it that way," she said, pushing her hair out of her face. "I know," Tim said, chuckling. "It's funny how people jumped to conclusions when we weren't dating, but probably won't know the difference when we do!" Sara nodded in agreement as she studied Tim. He was so different from Scott in so many ways; his looks, his humor, the way he carried himself. She always seemed to be on edge around Scott, whereas Tim made her feel comfortable and at ease. Now that he had asked her for a date, Tim was his relaxed and joking self again, a stark contrast to Scott, who always seemed tightly wound and moody. Tim noticed her gaze , but said nothing as he finished his portion of the pizza. Sara finished hers as well as the minutes ticked away. "You still haven't told me what we're going to do or when, for that matter," she said, breaking the silence. "It takes time to formulate the perfect plan," he mused. "You must be patient," he added quietly. "Ah, the perfect plan. I see. Could you at least give me a day and time so I can be ready for this so-called perfection?" She sat back in her seat, arms crossed and smiling. "Okay, okay," he said, "if you must know, it shall be Friday at six o'clock. I cannot reveal anything else to you, otherwise it would ruin the perfection." "You haven't got a clue, do you?" she giggled. "Of course not! I told you I was making this up as I went. Anyway, is Friday at six okay with you?" "It's fine," she replied, checking her watch. It was only nine-forty. She had a little time before she needed to head home. For the next half hour, they talked easily about various subjects, most notably, dining preferences, movies, and other dating ideas. By ten-fifteen, Tim still didn't know what the date would entail, but at least he knew her likes and dislikes. He walked her to her truck, as was his habit now, and they exchanged phone numbers. "This isn't a fake number you give to people you don't like, is it?" he asked. "I mean, I don't want to be calling "Chicken Louie's" for a date." "Don't worry," she replied, laughing, "it's not Chicken Louie's. I don't really know what number it's to," she teased back. "Wonderful," he replied. "It'll probably be "Mabel's Whore House and Donkey Stable"!" "The donkeys might be fun for you." "Are you saying that from experience?" he shot back. Sara feigned anger, "I'll get you for that one!" Her face softened in the brightly lit parking lot as they tried to figure out a way to end the evening, neither in any particular hurry. Finally, with her hand on the door handle, Sara said, "I guess I'll see you Friday. Call me in the evening sometime and we'll make plans." She opened the door and got in as Tim closed the door for her. The motor turned over slowly and roughly before it rumbled to life. Sara rolled down her window and waved to Tim before she drove away, leaving Tim to think about the next few days. He picked her up that Friday as promised. Sara came out of the house as he parked, saving him a visit with her family. Sara was the eldest of five children, the rest being teenagers, and she didn't trust them not to embarrass her, especially the two youngest sisters, ages thirteen and fourteen. She planned to introduce Tim at a later date if things continued to progress between them. Tim, dressed in navy blue dress pants and a tan polo shirt, his black hair neatly combed, walked her to his car and let her in. Sara looked even better than she did at the bowling lanes the previous Monday. Her wavy hair was fashioned in a French braid and tied with a light blue bow which matched her yellow silk blouse and blue skirt. As he settled beside her, he inhaled the sweet, soft perfume that she was wearing and gave her an approving look. "You look great, Sara. Did you work late or did you do this on purpose?" "Thank you," she said, her brown eyes shining, "and yes, it was on purpose. You look pretty good yourself. On purpose?" she inquired. "Yes," he laughed, "I do clean up once in a while." "So, where are we going?" she asked as they left her neighborhood. "Well, there's a really nice Chinese restaurant not too far from here called the "Ping Pong". It's owned by former table tennis champions. Have you heard of it?" Tim glanced her way for an answer, but she shaking her head in amusement. "Nice try, Tim. Where are we really going?" "You didn't buy that one?" "No." "Okay, well how about the "Szechuan House" on Fourth Street?" "Sounds wonderful," she approved. "I was hoping you'd pick Chinese." "Well, you dropped enough hints when I called you." Sara shrugged her shoulders and smiled as they continued their journey to town. The restaurant appeared to be quite crowded from the looks of the parking lot, but once they were inside, it was only a five or ten minute wait. They sat at the bar in the meantime and Tim ordered drinks for them, a Tom Collins for her and a glass of wine for himself. Shortly, they were seated in a lower level section, out of the view of most of the other diners. There was an enormous fish tank to Sara's left with many varieties of fish swimming about. They both selected wonton soup as an appetizer before they poured over the menu. For a first date, they were quite at ease with each other as they chatted about whatever came to mind. Sara enjoyed Tim's company very much in addition to the atmosphere of the restaurant itself. Luckily, it didn't seem to be all that different than when they sat in the lounge after bowling. During the middle of their dinner, Sara asked, "What else do you have planned? Your plan for perfection seems to have gone off without a hitch so far." Tim smiled. "That's still a secret." He then pointed to her dish, a steaming vegetable concoction that smelled heavenly. "How's your food?" "Excellent. I've never had this before. Thanks for suggesting it. And yours?" "Pretty spicy," he answered, reaching for his water. He looked at her over the rim of his glass, her focus still on him. "Do you want to try some?" "No, no, no," she said, her hands protectively out in front of her. "That's way too hot for me. I don't do spicy very well." "So, what do you do well?" he asked, his eyebrow cocked. Sara blushed slightly before answering. "I take your bowling money very well," she replied sweetly. "You do not," he protested. "I've still won more money than you." "Wow! What, five bucks maybe. Whoopie!" she exclaimed. "According to you before the season, I would have given you forty bucks by the end." "I'm still beating you, so there." "Keep it up, Tim. Pretty soon, I'll be beating you every game and you'll be begging for mercy." "Never," he said, "I could never stoop that low." "God, you're such a brat!" "Exactly." "Are you always this mean to your dates?" she asked. "I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about," he said innocently. "I'm just being my normal charming self." "Right!" She said sarcastically. Their conversation eventually turned to their previous boyfriends and girlfriends, a subject that Tim seemed to be reluctant to talk about at first. After Sara talked about a few of her high school beaus, she talked at length about Scott. She left nothing out and didn't mind sharing this part of her life with him. Tim talked about some of his dates in high school, but didn't go into much detail. He didn't seem willing to talk about any recent dates. Some things needed to be left alone, he thought. It was he who changed the subject. Puzzled, Sara let it go without prying. Tim remained a bit subdued for a while, but gradually warmed up again as the bitter memories slunk back into the dark areas of his mind where they belonged. The mood lightened soon as Tim went back to his teasing, self-deprecating self. After the dinner, Tim took her to the "Comedy Palace", a night club that showcased the area's best stand up comedians. Most of the comics were outstanding and Sara's sides hurt from laughing. Tim enjoyed it, too, but his mind kept wandering back to Janice. He didn't like to talk about her and he rarely did. If he and Sara decided to keep dating, which he thought they would, he knew he would have to tell her the whole story. Tim felt guilty about avoiding the subject, especially after Sara had spilled her guts over that idiot, Scott. What a pain in the ass he must have been! Tim felt sorry for Sara that she had to go through it, although she didn't seem to be much worse for it, no emotional scars or flashbacks that he could see. Tim felt Sara's hand touch his arm and he jumped slightly. Looking at her, he tried to smile and saw a look of concern on her face. He patted her hand reassuringly and then took her hand in his. It felt warm, soft, and wonderful to his touch. His mind eased almost immediately as a real smile spread across his face. Sara smiled back and was relieved to find him back in her world again. Whatever was haunting him had a steel grip on his mind. Part of her really wanted to know what the problem was, but most of her was afraid to find out. The ride home was pleasant as they relived some of the more memorable acts that they had seen. They were still laughing as Tim pulled into the driveway. The lights in the house were still on as it was only around ten-forty five. "Do you want to come in for a minute?" she asked as the floodlight came on in front of them. Tim hesitated for a few seconds. He really wanted to stay alone with her longer, but he wasn't ready to meet her family just yet. "I don't know," he said, shrugging his shoulders. His thoughts were turning back to Janice once more. He didn't want to talk about her, but Sara would find out sooner or later anyway. "I think I'd rather just talk for a while. Is that okay?" "That's fine," she replied quickly. "I like talking to you," she added. Tim smiled thinly as he tried to begin, but nothing came out. He looked away briefly before turning back to her. "Could we take a walk?" he asked softly. "Sure," she said, "I'd love to." Tim got out, closed his door, and went to her side to let her out. He took her hand as she stepped out, but didn't let go as they began to stroll her tree-lined neighborhood. Tim was quiet, pensive as they walked the first few minutes, the half moon and street lights shining their way. There was a soft, gentle breeze barely moving the leaves. Sara could sense his apprehension and had a feeling that he wanted to get something off of his chest. She was enjoying the walk anyway, as it was becoming a relaxing, soothing stroll. After they had walked two or three blocks, Tim began to speak. The words came out slowly, painfully, as he relived the events all over again, ripping open the healed wound that he had so carefully bandaged and hidden away. "My senior year in college," he began, "I met a really nice girl in one of my physics classes. Janice was her name, Janice Ditmer. She was from Auburn. You know where that is, don't you? Blond hair, blue eyes, nice figure, the whole nine yards. She was a lot of fun and we had a great time dating. She was a math major also, but she was much smarter than me, almost a genius, I guess. Straight "A" student. I noticed little things about her that I didn't pay any attention to at the time. Looking back, I realize what was happening, but hindsight is twenty-twenty." He inhaled deeply as his eyes started to tear. "Anyway," he continued, "we fell in love and planned to marry sometime after our graduation. I guess things started to unravel for us when she got her first "B". She was devastated and hysterical and tried to get the prof to change it. He wouldn't change it. I mean, it was only one "B" and wouldn't have affected her overall grade, but she didn't see it that way. She blamed me for spending too much time with her, distracting her, etc. When I disagreed, she went ape-shit on me, telling me that I ruined her grades, she'd never get into graduate school, things like that." "I had never seen that side of her before and it scared me. I called her parents to see if they could help. It was then that I found out that she was on meds for manic depression. She had never told me about her depression. Her parents said that sometimes she would stop taking the medication because she felt good and she felt that she didn't need to be on them." "When I confronted Janice about her depression, she admitted that she had taken herself off of the medication, but that I should never have gone behind her back to her parents. As graduation got closer, her manic moments were more frequent and our enjoyable time together was becoming less. Her grades continued to slip slightly and according to her, it was all my fault. When I suggested that we see less of each other so that she could concentrate more on her studies, she threatened to kill herself, that she couldn't live without me. I'll save you all the details, but I knew she was becoming more and more unstable and I didn't know what to do. When I suggested that she go into counseling, she accused me of not loving her and trying to get rid of her." "Oh my God," Sara said softly. No wonder he didn't want to talk about this. She must have been the psycho bitch from hell. "Anyway, I knew this wasn't the same girl that I fell in love with and I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with someone whom I'd always have to be tip-toeing around. It really bothered me that she didn't seem to care about taking her medications so that she could feel better. Well, I broke off the engagement. She took it better than I thought she would. Of course, she cried and accused me of using her, among other nasty things, and we parted. I really hoped that we could get back together if she would have gone back on her medications, but I never got the chance." Tim stopped walking and looked up. Sara saw tears forming in his eyes and it broke her heart. She let go of his hand and slipped her arm around his waist and hugged him. His voice quivered as he continued, "They found her a few days later in the bathtub, wrists slashed, no note." Sara gasped. "I've tried not blame myself for it, but sometimes the guilt comes back anyway." He looked down at Sara, his face wet from tears. "Her family never blamed me," he continued, "at least they never said anything bad to me. They knew she had problems, but they couldn't do anything to save her either. I went through therapy for a while and it did me good, but even though I know I couldn't have saved her from her own destruction, sometimes I feel that it was still my fault." Tim let out a heavy sigh and wiped his face with the back of his hand. He started to walk once more, holding Sara close to him, needing her warmth and comfort. Breathing in deeply, he said, "You know, besides my family, you're the first person I've ever told." "I'm so sorry that you went through that," she said. "You didn't have to tell me." "No, I had to tell you," he replied. "You see, you're the first girl I've dated since her. I didn't want to date or get close to anyone for a long time. I wanted you to know. I didn't want to keep it in. I feel better for telling you." Soon, they were back a her house and some of the lights had been turned out. "The house is quiet," she remarked. "Do you want to go in for a while?" "Sure," he sighed. He would have preferred to have kept walking. She let them in the house with her key as the door opened with a little squeak. She looked left and right for signs of life, but everyone had gone to bed. She closed the door behind them and led them to the living room. A light had been left on near the picture window, but the rest of the house was dark. They sat down on the sofa and were quiet for a few minutes. A bit nervous at being alone in the house with her, Tim eased back into the cushions, hands clasped between his knees. "I hope I didn't scare you off," he said finally, "it's not a very nice story." "You didn't scare me off. I wouldn't have asked you in otherwise. I'm glad that you told me if it helped you." She put her hand over his. "I didn't want to, not at first." "I'm glad you did," she repeated. "Me too." Tim unclasped his hands and took her hand in both of his. Although petite in size, her hands and wrists were very strong. "You've got nice hands," he said as he examined them, turning them over and checking the palms. "I never really noticed them before. Very nice," he murmured. Looking away, embarrassed, he said, "I hope I didn't ruin the evening by talking about her." "Nothing was ruined," she insisted, squeezing his hand to get him to look back her. "I had a wonderful time, and I'm still having a wonderful time. Don't worry about that." She smiled at him reassuringly. "Good," he said, trying to smile back. Tim stayed for a while longer, but when it got to be after twelve-thirty, he thought it best to leave. She walked him to his car, hand in hand, the wind picking up and blowing through the trees. He stood with his back against the car door, not in any real hurry to leave. He held her hands in front of him and they looked at each other for a few seconds, neither wanting the date to end. Breaking the spell, Tim said, "Well, I guess I'll see you Monday night." "Sooner, if you like," she replied, not wanting to wait until Monday. "Sooner?" "Got any plans Sunday?" "None that I can think of." "Good. Stop by for lunch at eleven..." "Eleven..." "Then, we'll think of something else to do." "With your family..." Tim was not comfortable at all with the idea. "Yes, with my family. There's always room for one more." Sara saw him fidgeting about. "If you like, we can eat in the basement away from everyone." "That sounds a little better," he said, not altogether in jest. "Oh come on, Tim, it's just for lunch. You'll have a good time. I'll make sure my sisters don't bug you." Tim thought it over for a minute before he agreed, but it was against his better judgement. Bowl Me Over "Great!" Sara's eyes lit up. Without thinking, she leaned forward, reached up, and kissed him on the cheek, her lips warm and soft to his touch. Tim smiled sheepishly. "I guess I should have agreed to that sooner." "Oh, I don't know about that," she said softly, taking a step back. "I think I wanted to do that for a while, and this too." She stepped forward again and put her hands on his shoulder. She gently pulled him forward and down. His lips were sensual and moist to her touch when she kissed him, lightly and delicately. He returned the kiss, his hands moving around her slim waist to hold her closer. Her soft lips tasted like sweet honey as he savored the sensations going through him. It lasted but a few seconds, but Sara's knees were weakening at his touch. Scott had nothing on this man when it came to kissing. When they parted, the scent of her perfume lingered at his nose. "Sorry, I couldn't resist," she said shyly. "Don't apologize, I loved it," Tim replied, looking into her eyes. He took her face in his hands and smiled. "Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?" "No, but I'm listening," she replied softly, her eyes shining in the moonlight. "You are so very pretty," he said. He pulled her face to his and they kissed once more. This one lasted much longer and neither wanted it to end. When they parted, Sara's eyes were still closed, enjoying the sweet sensations that were invading her. If they had kissed any longer, she thought, her knees would surely have buckled and he would have had to carry her into the house. When she slowly opened them, Tim's gray eyes were studying her, taking in every feature of her face. "I guess I better be going," he whispered. Sara merely nodded. He let go of Sara, turned slowly, and opened his car door before turning back to her. "Sunday at eleven?" "Yes." Tim got into the car and put the key in the ignition without starting it. He looked at Sara, who had her elbows resting on the door frame, bent over and peering in at him. "I had a really good time, Tim. Thank you." "I'm glad you did. I did too." Tim looked down for an instant. "Thanks for listening. It felt good to talk about it." "No problem, Tim. Anytime you need to talk, all you have to do is ask." "I'll remember that." He leaned over and kissed her quickly before he started the car. Sara stepped back and Tim put it in reverse and waved to Sara before he drove off into the darkness. She watched with a bit of sadness until he disappeared and then made her way to the front door. Tim woke late Sunday morning with thoughts of Sara going through his head. He hadn't felt this good since when he first started to date Janice. The thought of her immediately brought a frown to his face. Why was she still haunting him? He pushed her aside as he often did in the past and concentrated on Sara and drifted back to their date. She had called him on Saturday and they talked for over an hour, mostly about the next days lunch. Sara avoided talking about Janice or anything remotely related. She wanted to keep it light. Tim dressed casually, jeans and a black shirt, and headed to Sara's house. Jumpy and nervous over meeting her family, his mind wandered to when he met Janice's family for the first time. It was a very nice time, one of the few good memories that he had left of that period. He pushed her again from his thoughts and concentrated on his driving until he reached the house. Sara met him at the door before he could ring the bell dressed in her usual jeans and tee shirt. "Hey Tim, right on time," she greeted him with a dazzling smile, obviously more than pleased to see him again. She resisted kissing him, but took his hand as she led him inside. Their house was a large, two story structure with four bedrooms and two and one half baths. Directly in front of them was the staircase and to the right was the living room. Her father was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper with one of her brothers. He put the newspaper aside when they entered and nudged his son to do the same. "Dad, this is Tim Rougeau. Tim, this is my father, Jack." "Good to meet you, Tim," Jack said as he shook Tim's extended hand. "Sara's told us a lot about you." "Wow," Tim said, "and you're still letting me in your house?" Jack smiled at the joke. "Tim!" Sara exclaimed as she slapped his arm. "Behave!" She turned back to her brother who still had his face buried in the newspaper. "The body behind the paper is Jacob. Everyone calls him Jake." Jake waved and went back to reading. Sara frowned, but said nothing. She led him to the kitchen where her mother and sister were bustling about preparing lunch. "Hey mom," she said as her mother turned away from the stove. Her sister eyed him coolly. "This is Tim Rougeau. Tim, this is my mom, Kim." "It's very nice to meet you, Tim," Kim said. Tim now knew where Sara got her good looks. Kim looked more like an older sister than her mom. "It's nice to meet you, too," Tim replied. "And this is my sister, Abby," Sara said, directing him to a thin, nervous looking girl just on the verge of blossoming into a young lady. "Hi," Abby said softly, her eyes held low. "Hi, Abby," Tim said. Abby went back to her mother's side and continued to help her. Normally, Sara would help with the meal, but since Tim was her guest, the responsibility fell to Abby, and she wasn't exactly thrilled to be in the kitchen. "Emily and Kyle must be upstairs somewhere. You can meet them later," Sara said as she led Tim out of the kitchen. "Do you want to watch TV or something before we eat?" "Whatever you want to do," he replied. She led him downstairs to a finished basement that had a TV and billiards table. There were two recliners and a small sofa near the TV and stereo system. They watched TV on the sofa until lunch was ready. Lunch was very good and Tim enjoyed it very much. Sara's other siblings, Kyle and Emily, were just as quiet and reserved as the two that Tim had met previously. They were polite, but they rarely gave more than a one or two word answer. Tim was beginning to wonder if Sara was really their sister. Jack and Kim questioned him about general things from time to time and soon, Tim felt relaxed and had lost most of his nervousness. They left after lunch was over and the dishes were washed. Tim and Sara dried while Kim washed. Tim thanked Kim for her hospitality and the lunch before they departed. "So, where are we going?" he asked as they left the house. "I don't know," she replied, "I thought we'd take a walk. Okay with you?" "Sure, sounds fine to me." It felt good and natural for Sara to be walking with Tim. Their hands automatically found each other as if pulled by magnets. After her year with Scott, she was so thankful to be with someone who was at ease with himself and with her. She felt very content at that moment as she looked up at Tim, who appeared to be in his other world again. She could easily tell that he was not over Janice or the events surrounding her death, no matter how hard he appeared to try. Sara wondered if he would ever truly be over her. She was beginning to really like Tim, especially his kindness and humor. He was forever doing little, thoughtful things that were endearing him more and more to her. They still did not have that bond that she felt would lead to her falling in love with him, but the seeds were planted and the roots would soon take hold. They had said little since they began their walk, only commenting on the lunch and weather. It was a warm summer day, not blazing hot for a normal July 2nd, but very pleasant. Presently, they came upon a small, shaded park. It had a basketball court and a few swings and slides. They found a bench and decided to cool down for a while. "You know," he blurted out, "I didn't go to her funeral." "What...?" Sara asked, not sure if she had heard correctly. "I guess I can't forgive myself for that either." He looked away, not knowing why he even brought it up again. Sara looked at him, but didn't know what to say. It caught her completely off guard. Quietly, she asked, "Why didn't you go?" He looked back at her, sadness filling his eyes. "I guess I was afraid to face the family, but I think I was more afraid to face her again." Sara nodded, her mind in a whirl. She waited a few seconds to collect her thoughts. She spoke softly and carefully, trying to convince herself and Tim about what she was going to say. "I'm no psychologist and I don't pretend to be, but maybe you're still looking for some type of closure. You weren't with her when she died and you didn't go to the funeral. Maybe you need to somehow finish that before you can find forgiveness." "I don't know," he sighed. "It's so strange because I've been able to push her out of my thoughts for a long time now and I thought I was over this. But, all of the sudden, she's back in my thoughts again and things that I thought were buried with her are coming back, too." He stood up, hands in his pockets and took a deep breath. Deep down, he knew why Janice was coming back to the surface. He allowed himself to get close to someone again, that being Sara. And he knew he would have to make a choice. Either he would have to face his past and keep seeing Sara, or he could push Sara away and go back to living in his cocoon and not have feelings for anyone and not feel the pain. He looked back at Sara and knew that he wanted and needed her in his life. He knew that he had to face his fears straight up, but he didn't know where to begin. "There is something I do know," he said, sitting down again. "What's that?" she asked. "I don't want to lose you. I'm not sure what I need to do, but I've got to start now." Sara nodded and took his hand in hers. "Well, you're not going to lose me. Don't you ever worry about that." The ride was somber and quiet as they drove through the rural farmland of northern Indiana. It was a gloomy, gray day, a day that matched Tim's mood perfectly. He had seen his therapist again for the first time in over a year and she suggested he visit Janice's grave to help him come to grips with her death and help him get past it. This was not the first time that Dr. Helmy had brought up the suggestion. Tim had opposed the thought before, but he now realized that he had to do it. Memories, bitter memories swept through his mind as familiar landmarks came into view. During their courtship he had made the trip from his Lafayette home to Auburn many times. They planned to settle in the country, away from the hustle and bustle of the city life that Tim had known. When they were about a mile south of Auburn, Tim pulled over to the side of the road and put the car in park, sighing loudly. "It's pretty close, isn't it?" Sara asked quietly. "Yeah, it's right over the next hill," he replied. "We wanted to live around here. She wanted to live in the country and I wanted to please her. I really didn't care where I lived..." Tim looked away and out his window, dreading the pain and emotions that were invading him. They had been carefully tucked away for such a long time, but he knew that he had to go on because he wasn't going to turn back now. Smiling thinly, he placed the gear back in drive and started to drive once more. The Oak Grove Cemetery was small, fully shaded with many trees. Some of the tombstones dated back to the early 1800's and there was a Civil War memorial in the middle of the grounds. Tim parked in the visitor's lot that only encompassed five spaces, his being the only car there. He looked around briefly when he got out, trying to remember where her grave would be. Sara didn't wait for Tim to open her door as she, too, got out and looked at the tombstones. It was very peaceful and quiet and Sara thought that it was a very pretty cemetery, if one could say that. The wind blew mildly as the leaves rustled and twisted on the branches above them. They walked hand in hand slowly as Tim led Sara to where he thought the grave was. His two sessions with Dr. Helmy had done him a world of good. He got a lot off of his chest that he had been suppressing and hiding and he came to terms with himself once more about those terrible events just two years prior. Dr. Helmy felt that he was taking a step forward by being involved with Sara and not shying away from relationships. Tim came to realize, once more, that the only way to have a meaningful relationship with anyone was to come to grips with his past. And only then might he be rid of Janice's ghost once and for all. Although he had never visited her grave before, Janice had brought him there once to visit her grandparent's graves and Tim figured that she would be nearby. Sara really didn't know what to expect. When he asked her to come with him, she was surprised. She thought that he would want it to be a private visit and she thought that she might be intruding. But, she accepted his invitation only because she thought that he would need her. They walked slowly along the gravel path for about thirty yards before Tim came to a stop. His eyes were fixed on a tombstone approximately twenty feet away. Hands at his sides, he sighed heavily to compose himself. Sara looked at him, then her eyes followed his gaze to a group of headstones. She saw it immediately, "Janice Ditmer 1980-2002". It was a silver stone with no other writing on it. Tim sighed once more, but still didn't move, although he blinked a few times to keep his tears in check. He noticed that the clouds were starting to break up little by little. He glanced at Sara, who was still looking at the grave. He nudged her softly and moved slowly to his past. When they reached her grave, Tim reached out tentatively and touched the cold, marbled rock. He drew back quickly, as if shocked, then touched it briefly once more. Tim thought he felt rain on his face, failing to realize that it was his tears falling freely instead. He squatted down, his head was bowed and pressed against his hand that was holding onto the stone. "I'm sorry," he whispered to his lost love as Sara stood near. "I'm so sorry." His shoulders began to shake as he began to weep as quietly and privately as possible. They stayed at her grave for quite a while as Tim mourned for Janice all over again. The memories of those horrible days washed over him and he did nothing this time to fight them. With his free hand, he held onto Sara to keep him somewhat in the present. Her presence comforted him in more ways than he would ever be able to tell her. His past was his past now and he could deal with that. He would never hide from it again. The pins crashed as Tim threw another thunderous strike. Both he and Sara were really on their games that evening. Sara smiled when he returned from his delivery, a broad grin plastered on his face also. "I can't beat you if you keep this up," she complained. "Why would I stop?" he asked. "I'd lose my ATM." "You are such a brat!" "Of course I am," he answered matter of factly. They had been bantering back and forth the entire evening. Tim could not remember being happier, even when he and Janice first started to date and she showed no signs of instability. He could think of her now and not get depressed. He had visited her grave twice since that initial visit with Sara, and felt much better about himself. He even visited her parents briefly in Auburn and it was pleasant, not awkward at all. They never did blame him for Janice's suicide and they still thought of him warmly. He made no mention of Sara. It was the last night of their summer league and Tim had mixed emotions. He didn't want the league to end because it was how he and Sara became close and he really enjoyed bowling with her. But, he had a few tournaments to look forward to and he hoped that Sara would come with him. Since their visit to the cemetery, they had spent almost every free moment with each other. That would be curtailed shortly when Tim's classes began again, but they still had a few weeks before Tim would have to begin preparing. It was during those few weeks together that Sara began to love him. She wasn't sure whether or not she was "in love" with him, but she knew she cared about him more deeply than anyone she had ever dated. The change in Tim was dramatic during those weeks, she noticed, and she couldn't help but feel that she was partly responsible in some small way. They were both taking their relationship slowly and not rushing things and they were content with that. They had talked about taking their relationship to a sexual level, but both found that they weren't ready to take that next step. Not that they weren't interested, mind you. They had had some pretty steamy make out sessions at Tim's apartment and Sara had even let Tim's hands roam under her bra, a feeling that they both loved, but that was as far as it got. She knew in her heart that they would get to that point in the near future and she was looking forward to it. The season ended as Tim threw three strikes in the tenth frame to finish with a 269 game. He won two games and series total from Sara, who shot a respectable 222-214-236-672. As they sat in their usual booth afterwards, Tim gloated as he snatched the two dollars from Sara's hand. "Ah, I love my ATM. Cha-Ching!" "Okay, okay, so you won some more money from me. At least you didn't win forty dollars like you thought you would. What was it? Ten? Twelve?" "It was ten," he admitted. "Yeah, so there." They sat quietly for a while as Tim pondered how to ask her his next question. He was almost as nervous as when he first asked her out. He fidgeted and cleared his throat, then picked imaginary fuzz from his shirt. "What's wrong?" Sara asked. "What?" he stammered. "Oh nothing, just thinking." "About what?" "Well," he began, "you know I'm going to Louisville this weekend." "Yes, I know," she said sadly. "I'm really going to miss you." "Well," he continued, "I'd really miss you too, so I was wondering if you'd like to come along." He hesitated for a second. "I'm sure," he continued, "that they'll have some extra rooms." Sara smiled shyly, her brown eyes bright and sparkling. "I'd love to, but..." "But what?" Please don't turn me down, he thought to himself. "I'd rather stay in your room," she finished, "that is, if you have two beds." Tim was thrilled. He really hadn't thought that she would want to share a room with him. Truthfully, he just wanted her companionship. He knew that he would have been very lonely without her and he was beginning to realize how much she meant to him. "It's a double room, so we'll have plenty of space," he replied. "Great! Thank you so much for asking me. I was going to go crazy with you away for three days. I've never been to Louisville!" Tim smiled, delighted that he had pleased her and that she wanted to be with him as much as he with her. Sara smiled back, a smile that lit her face. Tim really loved it when she smiled. It was a wonderful distraction whether he was bowling, talking, or just saying nothing at all. It always made him feel good about himself. "You know, this is really strange," he said. "What is?" "Getting involved with you was the last thing on my mind when we started bowling. Now, here we are making plans for a weekend alone together. I don't know. It's just strange how things work out sometimes." "Well, I certainly wasn't looking for a boyfriend after Scott, that's for sure," she laughed. "But, you were different." "Uh oh," Tim said, "I love it when I'm called ‘different'." "Oh, you know what I mean," she said reaching for his hand. "You're so sweet, kind, and you never pushed me into things." "I was going through my own problems at the time, too." "Yes, you were," she admitted, looking down temporarily. She looked up as her eyes were starting to mist. She wanted so bad to tell him how she really felt, but she was afraid that she would scare him. She sighed, looked back at Tim and sniffled. Tim noticed the difference, but couldn't quite grasp the significance.