Susanne Novan - Driven

watched TV.

She was looking at a large rawhide bone when a very familiar voice got her attention. "Don’t buy him rawhide."

She looked up to find the coach standing on the other side of the isle. "No?"

"No." Dylan shook her head. "It’s bad for them." The woman walked around and handed Cat a large black object looked like a cross between hard rubber snowman and something vaguely obscene. "It’s called a Kong. It’s nearly indestructible against those teeth."

Cat smiled and took the toy. "Ugly thing."

"No uglier than the shredded remains of your lucky playing shoes."

"Mm. You’ve got a point there." She tossed the toy in her basket. "Thanks."

"Not a problem. I was getting food for my beasts and saw your truck in the lot. Nice one, by the way."

Cat grinned. "Thanks. It’s the first new car I’ve owned. Of course, it’s nothing like yours, but…"

"You’ll get there."

"Someday." She looked down to her shoes as a blush crept up her cheeks. "Thanks by the way."

"For?"

"Everything. The talk. Taking me to get Hamlet. Being my friend."

Dylan sighed and handed her yet another toy for what she knew was going to be a rambunctious Doberman. "It’s easy being your friend Cat. I hate it that you got hurt, the least I can do it try to help a little."

"You’ve helped a lot."

"I’m glad to hear it."

"Hey," Cat fingered the toys in her hands. "Can I buy you lunch?"

"Do you promise not to eat something that looks like it’s going to crawl off the plate?"

The blonde chuckled. "I promise. No rare steaks."

"Thank you."

*******

Sitting across from each other, Cat’s thoughts were in a whirl, and spent the first twenty minutes at the table running her finger over the rim of the glass.

Dylan sipped her tea and finally broke the silence.

"Are the bad dreams easing up?"

Yeah," she nodded. "I still have them but I wake myself up before it gets too bad." She smiled. "And Hamlet’s a big help. Just knowing he’s there…well…it helps a lot."

"Told ya."

"Yeah, you did." She took in a breath and blew it out slowly. "So, have you been having problems with the head office over this?"

"Nothing I can’t handle Cat. Don’t worry about it. Mac and I have it under total control."

"If there is anything I can do, let me know."

"You just keep on your game and I’m happy."

"I’m doing my best."

"I know." Dylan picked at her salad and finally sighed. "Look. Johnson is a bigoted, small minded son of a bitch, it’s true. But he’s also a slave to the almighty dollar. As long as we keep pulling money in, he’ll back off." Her tone softened. "I just don’t want to see you get hurt again."

Cat smiled. "Thanks, Coach."

Dylan looked vaguely embarrassed, and she took a moment to sip her tea. "Have you always been ‘out’?"

Cat blinked at the unexpected question. "Um…yeah. Pretty much. I mean I always knew, there was just something different. It took me years to figure it out, but once I did there was no hiding."

"And your folks have always been supportive?"

"Well my Dad was a little wigged at first, but he came around pretty quickly. My mom gave me the, ‘it’s not what I would choose for you, but if you’re happy’ lecture and we just went from there. My oldest brother told me I wasn’t allowed to scope out his girl friends."

Dylan nearly choked on her tea at the mental picture that went through her mind. She grabbed her napkin, managing to keep it in and swallow, with some

effort. "That’s priceless."

"That’s my brother." Cat sighed. "I’ve had small run ins with a few small minded people before, but nothing like this. For me it’s just never been an issue. I didn’t make it an issue, so it wasn’t. Any particular reason why you asked?"

Dylan shrugged. "Just curious, I guess. If I stepped over the line, I apologize."

"Hey.," Cat reached over and patted Dylan’s hand. "It’s okay, you didn’t pry. It’s always better to ask rather than carrying around a lot of misconceived notions."

"Oh I don’t think you have to worry about that. I’m pretty worldly you know. Been around the block a few times," Dylan teased, smirking.

Cat returned the smirk. "I’m sure you have."

The two locked glances for a long moment, and the air between them grew almost palpable. Cat finally cleared her throat and took a sip of water. "So….my turn. Answer a question?"

"Sure. Turn about is fair play."

Caught out, Cat asked the first question that came into her mind. "Why are you alone?"

Oh, dear god, I can’t believe I said that!!!

Dylan’s eyebrow crawled slowly up her forehead and stayed there. "What makes you think I’m alone?"

Oh well, in for a penny… "Well, Hunter just doesn’t seem to be your type."

"And why not? He’s a good guy."

Because he’s a good guy,you stinker. "I’m sure he is. But he’s so, so…"

"Tall?" Dylan smirked.

"Yeah, tall. Come on."

"Tan?"

Cat just bit her lip and shook her head. "Now you’re just being mean. He’s just not your type."

Dylan licked her lips and smiled. "And what, exactly, is my ‘type’?"

Aww shit. Hoist by my own petard. Par for the course around her, actually. "Um…not him?"

Dylan laughed, deciding to let her young friend off the hook. "He’s not really, and to answer your first question, I guess I don’t really see myself as being

‘alone’. I mean, I have my team, and my work. It takes up a great deal of my time and energy. I’m not really social by nature so…." She shrugged. "It works out for the best." Then she smiled. "Besides, I haven’t found anyone who can put up with me yet."

"I find that very hard to believe."

"I’m hard to live with. I have a certain way I like everything."

"You fold your socks don’t you?" Cat teased and leaned forward. "Go on, you can admit it. You’re a sock folder."

"I also squeeze toothpaste from the bottom of the tube."

"Oh you’re one of those." She giggled when Dylan nodded.

"Guilty." The coach looked up from her glass. "I guess I just haven’t found the right," she paused and decided that it wasn’t worth hiding from Cat anymore.

The young woman had been totally honest with her she owed her the same. "Woman."

Cat nearly choked on the ice she had started crunching. "Wow."

"What?"

"I didn’t expect you to say that."

"I didn’t expect to say that either, but, well I think I can trust you."

"You can."

"I know."

The silence fell between them again; the pregnant kind that you could slice with a knife.

They are soblue. It’s a pool I think I could dive into and never want to leave.

The waitress approached and slid Cat’s dessert, a thick slice of warm apple pie with a large scoop of slowly melting vanilla perched atop it, in front of the young woman, breaking the moment.

Cat took a large bite and moaned with gastronomic ecstasy.

Dylan swallowed hard through a bone dry throat. Then quaffed her entire glass of tea in one gulp. She thought about rolling the glass over her suddenly hot forehead, but decided against it.

"So, tell me," Cat continued casually, "who is the perfect woman? For you, I mean."

She’s doing this on purpose. I know she is.

Dylan thought it over for a moment. "I guess she’d have to be able to keep up with me. Find my job as exciting as I do, but be able to have her own life so when I’m on the road I don’t feel like I’m being neglectful."

"How about a woman who would like to travel with you?"

"That could be nice." Dylan’s head wobbled a bit, as she seemed to be considering it. "Tricky, but fun."