Fandom: Wilby Wonderful

Summary: The title says it all.

Note: Het alert!

When Buddy Met Carol

A. Kite (April 2005)

Buddy French first met Carol Wu as he was driving home one summer evening at the end of a long, boring day. Carol was driving a rental car. Buddy could tell, not just from the license plate, but because the windshield wipers were slapping furiously though there wasn't a drop of rain in sight.

Buddy pulled his cruiser up beside her and was almost sideswiped. The tourist was frantically feeling around the dashboard trying to locate the switch to turn on the headlights in the growing twilight. She turned her panic stricken face toward him and hit the brakes.

Buddy pulled his car up in front of her and parked. He walked back to the rental car and reached in and turned on the lights. Even embarrassed she was the most exotic, beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

"There you go, ma'am. These rental cars can be tricky."

She fumbled around and managed to turn the wipers off before she dared to look at him. "Thank you, Officer. This damn car..." She shook her head to clear it, "If you don't mind, could you direct me to the Loyalist Inn?"

Buddy smiled, and she smiled back. "Sure, no problem, just follow me."

They pulled into two of the few remaining parking spaces in front of the inn and got out of their respective vehicles. Taking a chance, Buddy asked, "Listen, miss..."

"Carol, Carol Wu."

"Miss Wu, would you care to join me for a cup of coffee? I'm off duty now."

"I'd love to..." she trailed off waiting for him to supply a name.

"I'm Buddy French, pleased to make your acquaintance." He held out his hand, and she took it in a surprisingly firm grip.

Buddy kept hold of her hand and led her inside. Over coffee, they both took it black, and cigarettes - she teased him for smoking lights, they talked. As Buddy thought, she was on holiday and came to Wilby on a suggestion from a client. Buddy found out that she was an advertising executive from Toronto. A high-pressure job that she needed a quiet break from.

Buddy told her all about himself and by the time the evening was over, he was in love. It was very late when he got home, but his mother was still up. "Buddy, dear, where have you been? You should have been home hours ago," she admonished him.

Buddy didn't really want to talk, but she was his mother. "Mom. You didn't have to wait up for me. I'm a big boy now."

"Hush, child. You're still my baby. Now where were you?"

Buddy knelt down by his mother's chair and sighed. "Mom, I've met a woman. And if she'll have me, I'm going to ask her to marry me."

"Mainlander or islander?" she asked sharply.

"Mainlander. No worse, a tourist."

Mrs. French clicked her tongue. "Oh, Buddy."

"What?"

"Never mind. She won't stay. They never do." She reach her hand out to him. "Now be a good boy and help your poor, old mother up the stairs. It's time we were both in bed."

Buddy did as he was told, but he didn't sleep much that night. Between thoughts of Carol, and the memory of his mother's sad voice saying, "Oh, Buddy." Then again, it could have been the five cups of coffee he drank.

End