by Ami LeCoeur
“Okay.” He frowned, silent for a moment. “You know, I can’t believe how hard it is to think of something to say.”
That brought a chuckle. I understood completely. We really were alike.
“Well, let’s see. I grew up as an only child in a relatively middle-class family—if not always financially, at least in terms of values. Mom and Dad are still married to this day. I had a bunch of cousins I grew up right alongside until we moved into a better neighborhood after Dad got a raise.” He took a sip of the cognac, gazing into the glass for a moment. “I was a freshman in high school then, so it was a pivotal time for me. They got me out of the neighborhood just under the buzzer.”
I didn’t need to ask what he meant. A lot of kids tended to turn to bad activities at that age. I could connect the dots on my own. If he’d lived in a poor neighborhood up until that point, then he could have been exposed to just about anything—drugs, prostitution, gangs.
“What do your folks do for a living?” I asked, sipping my wine.
“Dad was a mechanic for a long time, but later he was promoted to factory supervisor. He got a sizable raise, and we moved. Mom was a secretary at the same company. They met there years before when he was just starting out, working on cars. He always had this almost intuitive sense around machinery, especially autos. He was kind of a mechanical genius. No telling what he could have become if he’d had a chance to go to college, let alone finish high school.”
I nodded. “Your parents must be very proud of you.”
He grinned. “Yeah. I’m pretty proud of them also.”
“But what about you? Didn’t you like cars?”
He laughed. “I love cars. And working on them with my dad was great. I think he kind of hoped I might go into engineering. You know, make it a real family affair.”
“You had other plans.”
“Well, I always appreciated what they sacrificed for me—how Dad moved us to a new neighborhood and gave me advantages that my cousins never had. Life in the ‘hood’ was tough. Not all my cousins made it out alive, literally. Most of them are still stuck there. It’s one of the truisms about poor black and Hispanic neighborhoods. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to be stuck. And, I wanted to give back to the folks who helped me along the way. I couldn’t see doing that in a factory.”
“It’s an honorable job,” I pointed out. “Without ace mechanics, we couldn’t safely rely upon our vehicles.”
“Yes, and my father is a noble man. I guess I wanted my contribution to be a bit more tangible, maybe even more impactful.”
“Understood.” I sipped my wine, looking at him with new eyes. “Tell me something else. You’re a nice dresser, a touch above casual. How come I’ve never seen you in a tie? Except at the fundraiser?”
He chuckled, rubbing a hand over the short, nubby hair at the back of his head, a habit I’d noticed whenever he was thinking about something. “I don’t like ties,” he said, shrugging. “It’s the only explanation I can come up with. Besides, they take too long to get right. Why bother?”
“Also understood.” I winked, and he grinned slowly. He was definitely attractive, especially with that grin. “I guess you need to dress up a little bit more for court, though.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to get disbarred for failing to appear in proper dress.” He grinned. “And no, I don’t know if that’s even possible. Still, you get taken more seriously when you wear the proper costume.” I laughed, since he’d answered my question before I could ask it.
“What area of the law did you study? Or is what you’re doing now what you’d planned for all along?” I asked. “I don’t think you ever told me. I know about your work for the Shelter and that you do pro bono work for the women there, but is that everything? I mean, do you work in an office somewhere? Or…?”
Our appetizers came, and as I dug into my Caprese salad with gusto, it gave him a few moments to answer.
“Actually, I don’t have a specialty. There’s so much I’m interested in that it’s hard to choose. For the moment, there’s plenty that needs to be done for the Shelter, and while they don’t pay top dollar, I’m pretty happy doing most of it.”
Multiple interests. It reminded me of my love for graphic design, along with my skill with numbers and business. I’d been lucky to find a career that allowed me to merge my interests.
“Now it’s my turn. What got you involved with the Shelter?” he asked. “You don’t seem like the type who’s been through hard times or abuse, though I know that’s a big assumption on my part.”
“Oh? And what makes you think not?” I raised my eyebrows, tilting my head slightly as I studied his face. I could almost see the beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead. Mr. Serious thought he’d made a big mistake, but it was more than a little cruel to make him sweat.
“No, nothing serious. I’m just giving you a hard time.” I shook my head. “You’re right, I’ve had my share of life issues, but I’ve never been through the sort of thing these women have faced. I actually met Emma socially a couple of months ago. We had some… shared interests. We went to lunch a few times, hit it off as friends, and she invited me onto the Board after that.”
He nodded.
“A lot of my friends in the old neighborhood were in single mom families, so I saw the hardships they had growing up. I always felt blessed to be in a loving, two-parent family. Those women from my old neighborhood…” His face clouded. “I’ll never forget them, seeing the constant turmoil in the families with all the alcohol and drugs. Watching as boyfriends and husbands beat the women, and sometimes the kids, and then left them with next to nothing to try to survive.” He looked down at his drink, lost in memory as he shook his head.
“Well, when I met Emma at a fundraiser and found out about their program, I knew I had to help. If I can help even a few of these women, help save even a few of the kids, then this is my way of giving back. At least for now.”
I leaned forward. “I admire your drive.”
He nodded, raising his glass, and tipping it toward me. “And I admire you for all the help you’re giving Annie. You stepped up really quickly. Poor girl might have fallen through the cracks if you hadn’t. There are so many ways for them to fall through the cracks. A lot of women never get the help they need, or the opportunity to change their dismal lives.”
He was right, of course. I guessed that in some ways, it was also my way of giving back. Especially after what I’d seen with the men I’d tried to date recently. I had the confidence to not let my experiences with guys like Scott or Grant throw me for a loop, but many women had no idea just how strong they could be.
By then, we’d finished our drinks and appetizers but hadn’t yet discussed any details for the Fourth. He chuckled when I brought it up.
“You’re just too fascinating. Let’s say we go to the venue on Saturday and scope out the area. I know where the booth will be set up, and since I’ve done this before, I have a pretty good idea how long it will take us. I can brief you on what needs to be done, and if you have any other questions, we can always ask the venue owner.”
“That sounds good.” I smiled. It was a nice excuse to see him again. I was finding him rather fascinating, too.
Chapter Ten
“Oh, so this is where we’ll be.” I was a little surprised, though it made perfect sense. The Farmer’s Market—or, rather, the space where it was usually held. There was more than enough room, and the area served as the entrance to the park just beside it. I could imagine our booths in place of the booths at the Market. It would work well.
“This is where we usually are. I don’t think they’ll move us this year. But even if they did, you get the idea.”
I nodded. “What’s expected of us, anyway? I mean, I’ve never done this kind of thing before.”
“Well, we need to be here about two hours early for the setup. They’ll already have the booths here; we’ll just need to transport the boxes from the van, then set up the act
ual booth.”
“Boxes?” I asked. “What’s in the boxes? Flyers?”
“Right. Tablecloths, flyers, brochures, information about the Shelter and our programs. Invitations to the upcoming events, donation cards, that kind of thing.”
“What about decorations? We have to have decorations. Something eye-catching to help attract visitors to our booth.”
“I’ll leave that up to you,” Al said. “I can barely match my clothes in the morning, much less decorate a booth at an event like this.”
I winked. “It happens to be my specialty. But I’ll bet Annie would love to help with that. Oh, and candy—got to have candy to lure the folks in.” I looked around, anticipating the foot traffic, and thinking about how to create interest—how to stand out in the crowd of tents. I spotted a familiar face, my friend the apple vendor. He saw me, too, and waved me over.
“Come meet a friend of mine,” I said to Al, then headed over to where John stood.
“Hi there,” he said with a smile. Same Hawaiian shirt, same mustache, same friendly face and voice. I almost laughed. Seemed he had his work costume together just like Al and I did.
“Hey, yourself.” I smiled. “This is my friend Al Compton. We’re working on a booth for the Fourth of July event in a few weeks.”
“Oh, nice.” He turned to shake Al’s hand. “I’m John.”
“John has his own apple orchard. His apples are, hyperbole aside, to die for.”
“You’re too kind,” he said, his smile growing even broader. When he asked about our event, I told him we’d be representing the women’s shelter and explained a bit about the programs and what we did. I noticed somewhere along the way I’d begun to use the word we and liked the way it sounded, as well as what it represented.
“Hmm.” He stroked his neck thoughtfully. “I wonder if there’s any way I could help.”
“Do you think you could? Do you need help with your orchard?” Al asked.
“I could. Granted, it would be seasonal work, but at the end of the picking season, there’s always extra fruit on the trees. I could use help with the final gleaning when the time comes. And there would be plenty of apples if the ladies are interested in canning or pies, or just eating.” He laughed. “Otherwise, I could use help here at the booth—getting it set up, that sort of thing. But that would be after summer. I won’t be back here until September at the earliest.”
“Oh, really?” I hated the thought of not seeing him until then. I was a creature of habit, and I liked this guy. I enjoyed knowing I could walk by and say hello and pick up my fruit and honey from him. He was a kind, friendly presence in my life that I suddenly realized I’d come to enjoy and look forward to.
“Yeah, the fruit should start coming in over the next couple of months. We’ll start harvesting again in September. Don’t worry, you can get your apple fix starting then. You got a card, or some way for me to contact your shelter?” he asked Al.
“I’m glad I ran into you today, then. I would have missed you and your apples otherwise and wondered what happened.” I lifted my bag. The last bag of this season it seemed.
“I’m glad you did, too.” His teeth flashed against his mustache, reminding me again how easy this man was to talk to. For the first time, I wondered what he did when he wasn’t running his booth.
“Have a great summer,” I said as the men exchanged business cards. “Get some rest if you can. You deserve it.”
“You, too, workaholic.” He waved.
I laughed.
As I walked away with Al, I was already looking forward to September.
Chapter Eleven
“Boss, call for you on line one. Al something-or-other.”
I grinned. Al? Calling again? Now, that was a pleasant surprise. It hadn’t been all that long since we’d been out at the park. Part of me wondered if this call was strictly business, or if he remembered my kiss on his cheek as he dropped me off at my apartment.
“Hi.” His voice was warm, and I felt my cheeks flush as I realized how glad I was to hear his voice.
“Hi,” I replied, not knowing what else to say and feeling a bit like an idiot.
“Listen, I wanted to call to clear something with you. I’ll need to pull Annie in for some pre-conference stuff—you know, getting everything together for the case. I thought I should let you know since it will mean taking her away from work for a while.”
“That’s fine. I already anticipated you’d need to do that,” I assured him. “Anything she needs to do for you is fine with me.”
“Great.” He sounded relieved.
“Did you get the idea that I’m some sort of dragon lady?” I asked, laughing in response to the sound of his voice. “I mean, I’m a pretty fair boss.”
“Oh, I’m sure you are,” he said.
“And in the future, you can go straight to Annie with this stuff, no need to call me. She’ll let me know what’s up. I won’t even make her bring me a note,” I joked.
“Oh, I know. It’s just that she’s still a new employee, and I… um… didn’t want you… to think she would just… randomly skip out on work.”
I thought his excuse sounded pretty pitiful and was just about to call him on it when he sighed. “Look. I had such a nice time with you on Saturday, I wanted to call you again. This was just an excuse.”
“Oh, I see.” I grinned, my pulse picking up a little. I was surprised at how pleased it made me feel—and how flattered.
“I hope we can repeat that. The nice time, I mean. I don’t get a lot of time off for frivolous, well, I mean non-work related stuff. I kind of use my after-work obligations as my social life, if you know what I mean.”
Oh yeah, did I. He and I shared that in common also.
He was so formal, I thought it was cute, even kind of adorable. I bit my lip to keep from giggling like a silly schoolgirl. When was the last time a man was so adorably formal and polite with me? I had no idea.
“Sure. Anytime. Just say the word.”
“You mean it?”
I bit my lip harder at the obvious relief in his voice.
“Yes, I mean it,” I finally said when the urge to laugh had passed. The last thing I wanted was for him to think I was laughing at him. That wasn’t the case at all.
“Great. What about Wednesday night? There’s a movie I’m dying to see.”
“Sounds good.”
“The Ritz, a few blocks from the Shelter? Eight o’clock?”
“I know it. I’ll meet you there.” I hung up the phone, realizing I had a silly grin on my face. Al was a really nice guy, and I admired him a lot. He was more than competent at everything I’d seen him undertake. Besides, he was very easy on the eyes.
Actually, I was tickled that he wanted to spend time with me. Who wouldn’t be? I put a note in my calendar, though I knew it was hardly needed. Rather, it was something I was already looking forward to.
Chapter Twelve
I was doing my best not to compare Al to Scott, but this was the first movie date I’d had since that disastrous one, and I couldn’t help myself.
Scott had talked incessantly throughout the movie, to the point where I’d become embarrassed. He’d been bombastic and critical—very different from Al.
Tonight’s movie was a dramatic comedy, and Al was very quiet throughout. He laughed at the appropriate times, but he never actually talked during the film. He was too busy watching and enjoying. I wondered if Scott had ever enjoyed a movie in his life. Probably not. His pleasure came from being the expert, dissecting everyone and everything in the story on the screen—and even in life.
Afterward, we walked out of the theater with the rest of the audience. Everyone around us seemed to like it. Their chatter seemed positive enough, anyway. I asked Al what he thought of the movie as we crossed the street for the coffeehouse and a late night cup of coffee. He’d been pretty quiet, even as we left the theater and it was impossible for me to figure out what he thought.
“I liked it,” he s
aid simply.
I grinned, wondering why I’d expected more from this quiet, self-possessed man.
We sat in the coffeehouse with our decaf lattes, talking about the movie. It was about a boy who wanted to attend a prestigious college even though his family didn’t have the money to send him, and he would be the first person in his family to gain any formal education beyond high school.
“I could really appreciate the guy’s predicament,” Al said, eating his half of the brownie we were sharing with our coffees. “He knew what he wanted to do with his life, you know? It didn’t matter that nobody else around him could see it for him. He saw it, and that was enough. Just because it wasn’t their dream didn’t mean he couldn’t dream it. He raised himself up above their low-level consciousness. He saw things they couldn’t see. Instead of focusing only on what was all around him, he focused on what could be.”
“Very interesting.” I wondered if he realized how much it sounded as though he were talking about himself. Maybe that’s why the movie had resonated so deeply with him.
“I mean, okay, so the kid’s setbacks might not have been that big a deal. It could have been worse. But he still managed to pull himself out of the negative mindset of the people around him. He saw what he wanted, and he went for it, no matter what anyone else said. You can’t not like a person who does that for himself.”
“I agree.”
“And I have to say, that even though everybody else walked away and told him he could never be who he dreamed of being, there was that girl in his life who stood by him. That’s sometimes the only thing a man needs, I think. A good woman to stand by him and tell him she believes. It means everything.”
“Loyalty is important,” I agreed. “And support is everything. I know I would never have gotten as far as I have without support. We can’t do it alone, none of us.”
“You’re so right. It’s a tough lesson to learn, but the sooner it’s learned, the better.” I could hear the passion in his voice, the certainty. He’d learned it the hard way, I guessed.
