by Gilead, Kate
Meanwhile my mind is reeling that we met up again in such a strange way.
It’s a nice shock though, that pleasant kind of warm, fuzzy shock when something good happens unexpectedly.
Something good, like, running into a fine woman who I’d like to…who I always wanted to…well.
It’s funny because women have taken a back burner lately. Been filling my life with work, building my business and hanging out with family.
Haven’t been dating, or even looking. I love what I do now, but if I’m honest, the nights have been getting lonely.
Just haven’t found that connection that I really want. And I don’t want to start something that isn’t going to go anywhere.
Kind of gave up on love, I guess you could say.
And now, here’s a girl from my past, a girl I didn’t stop thinking about for years, even though nothing ever happened between us.
Serendipity?
I don’t know. Those days when we worked together were good days but, that was a time when I still didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life.
I go to her window and give her the old “good news and bad news” routine and point out my rig to her.
“That’s your truck? You own it?”
“Sure do,” I say. “I happen to be available at the moment, and it seems you’re in need of a tow.”
“Well, this is…I mean, geez! You really made quite a career change, didn’t you?”
“Yep. I’ll tell you all about it, but right now, we have to take care of this situation.”
Frowning, she looks down and puts a shaky hand to her forehead. “Um. I don’t…I can’t…I’m not sure I can afford a tow, Brad. Funds are a bit low at the moment. Anyway, if I could, I’d have it towed straight to the junkyard. It’s not worth fixing.”
Yep. Money problems. “Well, let’s not worry about that right now. The storm’s getting worse, and we gotta get the car off the road.”
“But..I have a job interview today. That’s why I’m out here. Or at least, I did have an interview. I’ve missed my appointment now, but if I call and explain they may be willing to reschedule.”
“Oh? Damn. Okay, tell ya what. Lemme hook up your car and take care of it for now. We’ll work out the details later. Come on. You can sit in the cab of my truck and call your appointment while I get all this squared away. Okay?”
“Okay, that’s…thank you Brad. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that.”
“No problem, but we really have to get moving.”
Even though it’s blowing snow and freezing out here, I’m kind of happy to wait, watching as she grabs handfuls of stuff off the seat and crams it all into her purse.
What the hell is all that stuff, I think to myself, amused. I’ve never known a woman who didn’t feel naked without a purse full of junk.
God love ‘em. Women are cute but, baffling sometimes.
Lastly, she bends down, feeling around on the floor under the driver’s seat, until she triumphantly pops back up with her cell phone.
Ah. And that’d be how she wound up rear-ending that guy.
She must’ve been trying to contact her interview. Ah, poor Cherry. This really has been a bad day for her.
Maybe I can make it better.
Put a smile back on her face.
Always liked making Cherry smile. There’s something about her smile…sweet and vulnerable yet…sensuous and sexy.
Christ, what a beauty she is.
As she exits her car, I offer her my arm, escort her across the lanes of stopped traffic to my truck and help her climb up into the passenger seat.
Then I take her insurance card to Road Rage dude, who, after snarling “About time!” snaps a photo of the card with his phone and then flicks the card back out the window at me.
Like I care! I’ve got Cherry Hill in my truck and I’m not gonna let her get away this time.
Not gonna let her get away this time?
Where’d that thought come from?
Why do I feel so excited all of the sudden?
Am I thinking what I think I’m thinking?
* * *
When I climb back into the driver’s seat of my rig, she’s watching me with shining eyes.
“My Hero, “ she says, giving me that sparkling smile.
And damned if that smile doesn’t make me feel like I really am a hero.
“My pleasure.” I begin maneuvering the truck back across the lanes of traffic to her car, waving my thanks to motorists kind enough to let me in. “Did you call the place you were headed?”
“Yes,” she says, her smile disappearing. “But the supervisor didn’t pick up. I left a message.”
“Don’t worry about it. Everything will be fine, okay?”
After pulling in front of her car and backing into place in order to hook it up for the tow, I give her a reassuring smile and hop out. “Be right back, this’ll only take a few minutes.”
As I busy myself with the task, my mind goes back into the past, pulling out memories I have of Cherry and that time in my life.
We met when she got a job as a beta-tester at Borden Games, where I worked as a software developer. That was her first job she had, when she was only eighteen. She’d immigrated from the States with her parents only the year before.
I remember how shy she was…until she got to know and trust you.
And man, she was so fucking cute! So enthusiastic, so cheerful, eager to learn and absorb everything.
Cute and sexy and just…damn.
I was, what…twenty-eight then. Jaded in my career already…that was probably my fifth developing job by then. Great money, and I used that money to invest for the future.
But it was a horrible, stifling corporate culture, like all of those coding jobs.
That was right before I made my big move out of corporate hell. By then, I was finally figuring out that one fake, politically-correct corporate environment was always gonna be the same as the next. That there was no greener grass in that life…at least, not for me.
Contrasted to Cherry’s innocence and naïveté, I felt like a dinosaur. Old and used up yet not even thirty.
Naturally, like all the men around her, I was very attracted to her, but I was in a relationship in those days.
Couldn’t help but be attracted. We worked together every day and had an easy, fun working relationship. Lots of joking around but also, sometimes, when we were both stuck working on a project late into the night, we’d get talking about other things.
I remember how hard it was not to want more with her.
To see her as just one of the team and not sexualize her.
Hell. Who am I kidding? Damn right I sexualized her, just not to her face.
Despite myself, I also kind of fell in love with her.
Well, it was definitely a damned good crush, anyway.
Those long, sometimes gawky limbs. That innocence and unconscious sexuality that she projected all at once.
That red hair and wild green eyes.
Was it really eight years ago?
Time sure flies.
Yet she still looks the same, she still has that fresh-faced beauty.
A more mature and womanly beauty, but just as lovely as I remember.
* * *
Back in the truck now, the first thing I see is that she’s looking upset again.
“Well, the supervisor was kind enough to return my call. They’re gonna hire someone they interviewed this morning.” She lets out a big sigh. “He was sympathetic but he said the other candidate had more experience anyway. Same story, different day.”
Biting her lip, she turns her head to look out the window. She looks like she’s about to cry.
My heart melts for her.
“Awww, well…hey. That sucks. I’m sorry, really.”
She doesn’t look much comforted.
Damn. Poor thing! As I ease the truck back into traffic, I try again. “Listen…maybe that wasn’t gonna be the right job for
you anyway. You know what they say about one door closing so a better door opens up? Maybe you’d be better off working for someone else.”
“Yeah well I need a job, like, yesterday. I’ve been looking for over a month. I’ve had a dozen interviews. I’m trying to land a job with a top salary but so is everyone else and I keep losing out to people with more experience.”
She stops and looks out the window again, like she’s trying to get herself under control. “Sorry, I just...the thing is, I quit my last job before I got a new one and, you know, that’s always a dumb thing to do.” She gives me a rueful look. “I’m my own worst enemy.”
“Aww…listen…it’s okay. It’ll be okay.”
She nods, digging in her purse before coming up with a crumpled tissue. “Yes but right now I feel like I’m down for the count.” She dabs at her nose with the tissue. “I…don’t even know how I’m going to get home without my car.”
For the first time, I notice that there’s no rings on any of those long, graceful fingers.
Not that that means anything necessarily…but it’s still a good sign.
But yes, she’s right. There’s a more immediate problem to deal with, which is getting her home or at least, somewhere safe in this storm.
“I’ve impulsively quit jobs that I hated too, Cherry. And made all kinds of mistakes. It’s not the end of the world, it just feels like it right now.”
She lets out an ironic laugh with no humor in it.
“I moved for that job, though. The one that I just quit. I left a nice, reasonable, rent-controlled apartment here in the city because I thought it was going to work out. It seemed like such a sure thing…ah, never mind. I don’t want to dump my troubles on you.”
If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t want to hear their sad story probably.
But this isn’t just anyone.
And, maybe…this could be my chance to shine here.
“It’s okay. I don’t mind. But…yeah, first things first. We have to do something with your vehicle and then get you home. Where would you like me to tow your car? Is there a garage nearby that you use?”
“No. The one I use is in Pickering, where I live now.”
Pickering. It’s a bedroom community to the east Toronto. Maybe an hour away in good traffic, which is a long daily commute for a job downtown.
Outside, the wind gusts again, rocking my truck slightly and blowing another thick curtain of snow against the windshield.
I’d probably happily drive her all the way home and take care of her car, too. Just for some of those White Knight brownie points.
But not in this weather.
In this weather, we could both end up stranded by the side of the road somewhere.
“Hmm. That’s a little far right now. I mean, if it was a clear day, I’d just drive you home. But today, I don’t want to chance it. This storm is going to get worse before it gets better. Even my rig could get stuck or hit the ditch or something. It’s just better not to be on the road.”
“Yes, it’s too risky. I’m…I’m at a bit of a loss for what to do. I guess I just need a couple minutes to think.”
“Well, we’re pretty close to my home base here. The repair shop I always use is on the same street as me. It’s not that far. I could take your car there and we’ll work out a deal with them after they’ve had a look at it. Fair enough?”
She looks out the window for a moment and pushes a lock of hair out of her eyes before turning to offer me a small smile.
“Fair enough. Thank you, Brad.”
“No problem. I was actually about to pack it in anyway. I had my day’s money made by six this morning. In conditions like this, I like to quit while I’m ahead.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“After we drop your car, we could see if the coffee shop’s still open and relax for a minute, figure out our options.”
Anything to hang with her for a while longer.
Especially if it makes me look heroic to her.
“Sure,” she says, rewarding me with that smile again.
Damn. What is it about her smile? Still has the power to make me think filthy thoughts.
That smile is a cock-hardener like no other.
Seems like those frustrated feelings that I had for her, back in the day, are coming back full-force in no time.
As is the enjoyment I got just from being near her, back in the day.
Maybe she’s having a hard time right now. Maybe that reserved but sunny nature has been dampened by time somewhat.
But that smile…if she were mine, I’d do just about anything to keep that smile on her face.
If she were mine.
Determination floods into me from I don’t know where.
My jaw sets and my spine straightens up.
What if this meeting is Fate throwing us together for a reason?
Don’t the wise men and sages always say that everything happens for a reason?
Either way, it’s an opportunity that I want to explore.
Just gotta figure out how to make her see it that way.
When I was younger, I didn’t understand that I can take risks and make things happen. I thought I had to always take the safe route. That’s how I got into coding. Good money, always lots of work.
But ultimately, not satisfying. Not fulfilling.
It took guts to make a change but I did it, and look where I am now.
That’s how I learned how to listen to that voice inside, to set goals and not give up.
To be a Man on a Mission.
And my sights are set on Cherry right now.
But, like I told her. First things first.
“Alright! You might be down but you’re not out,” I tell her. “I’ve got your back now Cherry. No worries.”
Chapter Three
Cherry
“I’ve got your back now, Cherry.”
God those are some good words to hear right about now.
It’s almost too much to take in. I haven’t seen him in years, and now here he sits, bigger than life, covered in bits and clumps of melting snow, glittering and glistening in the low light.
Unless his parka is several sizes too large for him, he still seems to have that same large frame that I remember.
Barrel chested, v-shaped, a man who keeps himself in good shape.
I’m not about to admit it, but over the years, I looked for him on Facebook and never found him. If he’s on it, it’s not under his real name.
Not that I blame him. I hardly use the website myself. People with no friends and no roots don’t have anyone to show selfies to, after all.
I did find the name of his towing service when I tried Googling him, but I had no idea it was his company at the time. How could I have? Towing is a far cry from programming, that’s for sure.
If I’m honest with myself though, even if I had known if was him, would I have had the guts to contact him…?Probably not.
Definitely not.
But maybe, if he had a public profile somewhere, it would have been fine to say hello, because, personality-wise, he seems like the same warm, helpful, hunky guy he always was.
It just blows me away to have run into him like this.
Almost like…it’s more than coincidence.
“All right Cherry. I feel better now that we have some kind of plan. Don’t you?”
“Yes. Thanks again Brad. I really can’t tell you…”
“It’s okay. It’s my pleasure, honestly.” He glances at me and nods for emphasis. “So, fill me in on what’s been happening in your life. What’ve you been up to all these years?”
Keeping his eyes on the road, Brad uses his teeth to pull one glove off one hand, then the other. He pulls off his wet toque and runs a hand through his thick shock of dark blonde hair.
It’s snowy and blowy outside but toasty warm in the truck. I follow his example, unbuttoning my coat and settling myself more comfortably on my seat.
“What’ve I been up to? W
ell, work, mostly. I moved between Ottawa and Toronto a couple times. After you left Borden, it was another six months before they laid me off. But it wasn’t the same without you, if you wanna know the truth.”
His glance and the way the corners of his mouth turn up tell me he likes to hear that.
“Really? I’m all ears,” he says, then he wiggles his ears so violently, it looks like they’re trying to fly away with his head.
He looks so funny I dissolve into giggles. “Oh shit, I forgot you could do that!”
“One of my many talents,” he laughs. “But please, do go on about how much you missed me.”
“Well they assigned me to your second-in-command,” I say, smiling. “Byron. Remember him?”
“Oh yes, I knew Byron well. Very smart guy. Had a bandaid holding his glasses together but he knew his stuff.”
“Yes. Nice guy but, he wasn’t fun like you. So anyway, I realized that my dream of having a career as a video-game tester was never going to pan out like I’d imagined.”
“I remember you expressing your disappointment after a few months, yeah. You thought it would be more playing actual games than testing lines of code. But you still seemed happy at work. ”
“I was happy. It was my dream job at the time. And you really did make it fun to work there.” I pause, thinking that my crush on him made it a lot more interesting, too. But of course I don’t say that. “I guess it’s easy to stay in childish delusions when you’re having fun. But then the lay-offs began, and, boom, I was out. My roommate at the time was getting married and giving up her apartment. So, there I was with no job, no prospects for beta-tester jobs, and not enough money or credit to get a place of my own. So naturally, I moved back in with my folks in Ottawa.”
Outside, another violent, snowy gust rocks the sturdy truck, spattering the windshield with big, heavy flakes.
“Shit,” Brad mutters. He sets the wipers on high and gives the windshield a squirt of cleaning fluid for good measure. “Good thing we’re almost off the highway. The city roads might not be plowed yet but we’ll be more sheltered from the wind.” He gestures with his hand towards me. “So, go on. You moved back home, and then what?”
