by Bonnie Dee
“I’m really glad we decided to get together. Your outlook is inspiring,” I said dryly.
“Hey, man, I’m just warning you not to get too pumped. What goes up must come down.” Rob stabbed a finger in the air. “You’ve got to find your own way to be happy, with or without the girl.”
“Like you?” I noted his permanent frown lines.
“I’m happy. I have my interests. In fact, I’m glad I got fired—laid off, ’cause now I can do what I’ve always wanted. I’m going to open a hobby shop.”
“Really?”
“I have the finest collection of World War II battleship models outside of a museum. They’ll be featured in the store window, and that will bring in customers.”
Rob talked about model shipbuilding and World War II for a while. He was a quirky dude with no social skills, but who was I to judge, considering my special issues? At least I could count on him to be bluntly honest. Whether he was right about Anna and me being an impossible couple remained to be seen.
Chapter Ten
“Are you ready?” Jules asked. “Because I have no doubt in my mind that you are.” My mentor was great at bolstering confidence and soothing fluttering nerves.
I nodded. “Absolutely.” And I realized I meant it. I was fully prepared to present our case and “squeeze” the juice company until it was willing to settle.
In court, I was very calm as I described conditions at the bottling plant and told about the E. coli outbreak that had been traced back to Grandpa’s Old-Fashioned Grape Nectar. There weren’t a lot of holes in my case. Grandpa’s legal team called a recess, then settled on a tidy sum that satisfied our clients.
“Good work.” Jules smiled at me as we left the courthouse. “Feels good, doesn’t it? You were cool as a cucumber.”
I couldn’t help but feel smug after another success. Good to know all those years of school hadn’t been wasted. In fact, I was pretty damn good at my job.
The moment my mind wasn’t caught up in the case, thoughts of Jason crept back in. Since our date, I’d waffled back and forth between dying to see him again and devising ways to let him down easy. I was a broken barometer incapable of reading my own weather. That afternoon, I sat at my desk and reread our exchange of texts from Sunday.
Jason: Had a great time last night. Hope u did too.
Me: I did. Glad you went out with me even tho you weren’t feeling well.
Jason: Maybe a movie next time?
Me: (after several hours of pondering whether I wanted to go further) Sounds good.
Jason: Let me know when.
Me: Schedule’s tight. Will figure something out.
Nothing from Jason for several hours. Maybe he was busy or maybe he was showing me he could play it cool too. At last he responded. Sure. Whenever.
Late Sunday evening I’d come to a decision. Any free days this week?
Jason: Meet for lunch Wed.?
We’d agreed to meet in the little park by my office building, the one where the homeless people hung out. Since setting the date, I’d spent a lot of time trying to decide what I was going to say to him. Jason didn’t fit into my life. I couldn’t picture having a long-term relationship. But so what if we merely dated awhile and it didn’t go anywhere? Nothing wrong with that. So what if I enjoyed his kisses, his sense of humor, and the intentness of his incredible eyes just for a while?
Because, Jason isn’t someone you can take lightly. Whatever happens between you is going to mean something. Are you ready for it? My inner voice sounded too much like Jules Arden.
“You’re making a bigger deal out of this than you need to,” I said aloud.
“What’s a big deal?” Cindy popped into my office like an uninvited genie appearing. “Did you blow it in court again?”
“Uh, no, I didn’t. In fact, I negotiated a great settlement.”
She sank into the chair on the other side of my desk, kicked off her high heels, and rubbed one foot against the other. “Congratulations. So, what’s the big deal?”
“Nothing. It’s not a big deal. That’s the point.”
Cindy leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “Come on. You’ve got something brewing. I can smell it on you. Last week I thought so, but this week I’m sure. You’re all jumpy and flushed. It’s a new guy, isn’t it?”
I didn’t want to lie, but I knew diarrhea-mouthed Cindy would let the whole office know my business.
“My parents are coming to visit in a few weeks,” I said. “They always put me on edge. I’m just reminding myself that I’m a successful woman and their opinion doesn’t matter, that I’m making a bigger deal out of their visit than it deserves.”
It was the truth. Mom and Dad were coming to visit soon, and I wasn’t thrilled about it.
“Oh, is that all?” Cindy slumped back into her seat. “I’d rather hear about a juicy new romance, preferably with someone completely inappropriate—like maybe with that hot janitor you were talking to the other day.”
I schooled my face into a neutral expression. Was she joking or fishing for details? With Cindy it could be either one. That was why she was so good in court. She could prattle on, putting her witness at ease, and then suddenly spring a trap they never saw coming.
“If I wanted to share my love life, I would,” I said shortly.
“Hah! So you admit there is something to share,” she crowed.
I glanced at my watch. “I have a deposition to prepare for. I can’t chat with you right now.”
“Fine. I’m going.” Cindy slipped on her shoes and headed to the door. “But you can’t escape me forever.” She left with a finger waggle.
I was too busy the rest of the day to dwell on relationships or busybody coworkers, and that evening I devoted my attention to Baby. She was so thrilled to see me her little body shook. But she didn’t jump on me. The doggie day care handlers really knew how to correct bad behavior.
I gathered Baby in my arms and, avoiding the reproving eyes of the handler, allowed the pup to lick my face. “Good girl. That’s a good, sweet girl.”
I buried my nose in her fur and took pleasure in her pure love. Animals were so uncomplicated. People did awful things to each other and then sued.
I thanked the staff for providing another happy—and expensive—day of care, clipped on Baby’s leash, and walked her to my car.
We spent a quiet girls’ night, eating dinner, then watching a romcom that put both of us to sleep. But the movie must have seeped into my consciousness, because I had a very vivid dream about Jason making love to me on a tabletop like the couple in the movie. When I woke, the end credits were rolling, my body was quivering, and my panties were soaked through.
The next day was Date Day. I was on edge all morning, counting down the minutes until I saw Jason again. I recognized my excitement was extreme. I’d never been this het up about seeing Tim in the entire time we’d been together. Not even in the early days. What was it about Jason that had me feeling like a cartoon character with butterflies dancing around my head and a heart beating right out of my chest?
At twelve thirty, I walked toward the sandwich cart at the edge of the park where we’d agreed to meet. It was a beautiful fall day following a series of cold, cloudy ones. The leaves were turning, and the sun made the touches of gold and orange glow like flames. Jason was waiting for me on a bench, long legs stretched out in front of him, arms draped along the back. His face was tilted to the sunshine, eyes closed. Threads of copper glinted in his dark hair.
My heart sped up along with my feet. I wanted to kiss him with a desperate longing—like Baby diving into a bowl of dog kibble. Whatever doubts I’d had when we were apart evaporated instantly upon seeing him. I recalled the way his hands had felt on my body, his lips on mine, and I wanted more. I hurried toward him, but when his eyes opened and focused on me, I stopped, suddenly shy.
“Hi.”
He smiled a one-sided smile, and warmth unfurled low in my belly. “Hi.”
I shook off my odd
nervousness and plunked down beside him. “What are you up to today?”
“Having lunch with you, then going to work later. What about you?”
“I’ve been busy. The usual.”
“What’s the usual?”
“A lot of research and organizing facts. This afternoon, I have a meeting with a client.”
My leg bumped against his. I glanced down at his jeans-clad knee and my flowered skirt, his battered tennis shoe and my sleek high heel. I imagined our bare legs entwined together, then quickly dragged my attention back up to his face.
“So…” I took a breath, considering all the things I’d planned to say, then plunged in. “If I’ve seemed at all standoffish this week, it’s because I needed time to think. I really enjoyed the other night, but things moved along faster than I’d expected.”
Jason nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t expect that either.”
That meaning our incredible make-out session and intimate sharing of confidences. I looked away from his too-intense eyes and studied the bracelet on my wrist.
“I’d like to keep seeing you,” I said. “But it’s going to be hard to find time when we’re on opposite shifts.”
He took his arms from the back of the bench and folded them. “Plus, it’s not like we’re in the same social circle. I understand.” He sounded as if he were responding to a “get lost.”
I touched his arm. “Wait. I’m not saying I don’t want to get together, only that it’s going to take some arranging. But I want to, if you want to.”
“Hell, yeah.” His smile was back.
“Good. Well... Shall we get something to eat? The Jamaica wraps at this cart are fantastic.”
I stood, and Jason rose stiffly. We joined the queue for the cart and talked a little about the beautiful weather and the outlook for the coming weekend.
“Maybe you’d like to join Baby and me at the dog park on Saturday or Sunday if you have a few hours.”
“I’d like that. Sunday is best for me. Once I’m finished on Friday evening, the building’s pretty much unoccupied until Monday. I just do a few extras on the weekend.”
“Do you work through a janitorial service or on your own?”
“Through a service. But your building is pretty much mine. My supervisor checks with management now and then to make sure everything’s up to their standards. I haven’t had any complaints. Not recently. At first, I’d forget things, but I’ve got that under control now.”
It was too easy to forget that Jason had issues other than physical. I glanced at his profile and the angry red scar. “Will your memory keep improving?”
“Brain injuries are all different. Usually once you earn back a skill, it’s there to stay, but sometimes things slip away again, so they tell me.” He looked at me. “I’m never going to be what you’d call ‘normal’ again, you know.”
“What’s normal? The last guy I dated, Tim, had some OCD-type behaviors you wouldn’t believe. We’ve all got quirks.”
“I’m quirkier than most.”
Other than his halting speech, I hadn’t witnessed much odd behavior. But just then something happened to illustrate the point. We’d reached the head of the line and placed our sandwich orders. I offered to buy, but Jason refused.
“I can pay.”
Understanding from his tone that this was a matter of his pride, I backed off. I wasn’t about to have an argument over twenty bucks. The cart guy gave a total, and Jason offered a debit card.
“Sorry. I only take cash.”
Jason took out several bills and handed them to the man.
“You still owe five forty-five.”
Jason fumbled with his money, seeming uncertain about the denominations or else how to add up the total amount. I focused my attention on a nearby flock of pigeons. I wouldn’t embarrass him by intervening, but I wished he’d let me pay. I listened as the vendor eventually extracted the right currency from Jason.
As we walked away with our food, he said, “I usually use my card. Money doesn’t make a lot of sense to me anymore. See, I told you—quirky.” He handed me my wrap.
I liked that he let go of his pride and let his sense of humor take over.
“Not a big deal,” I said, but I wondered how he managed to pay bills on his own and how often he got ripped off in situations like the one with the vendor.
We resumed our seats on the park bench and unwrapped our sandwiches. Pigeons flocked around us like red-eyed zombies ready to pounce and devour us.
“Look at this guy over here.” I pointed to a blue-gray pigeon. “He’s got a Hitler moustache thing going on.”
“Eat fast. I think he’s planning to attack.”
It was true. The Hitler bird strutted right up to the toe of my shoe and stared at me with an evil glint in his eyes.
I kicked at it. “Shoo. Go away.”
Another bird alighted on the bench beside Jason and pecked at the empty bag. The soft warbling coos of the flock sounded more sinister than soothing. Dozens of pairs of eyes watched our every move.
“Maybe eating in the park wasn’t such a good idea. We’re surrounded.” I took a bite of my delicious Jamaica wrap and hurriedly chewed and swallowed.
A man in ragged clothes with a backpack on his shoulder wandered by, sending a ripple of movement through the flock of pigeons. “Hey, Jason. Whassup?”
Jason nodded at him. “Not much.”
The man didn’t stop to chat but headed toward the group of homeless people, mostly guys, who hung out at the south end of the park.
“A friend?” I knocked the Hitler pigeon away with my toe when he began pecking at my shoe.
“Kinda. I hang out with those guys sometimes.”
I glanced at the men clustered near the fountain and considered that tidbit. The guy I liked hung out with the city’s homeless, one more indication that Jason’s life and mine were light years apart. I didn’t mean to be snobbish about people who’d fallen on hard times, but I couldn’t help feeling weird that Jason was close to them.
Jason glanced at the loiterers and raised a hand in greeting. “They’re not all alcoholics or drug addicts, you know. Okay, most of them have substance abuse problems and police records…and mental issues, but aside from that, they’re pretty nice people.”
“I never said they weren’t.” I drew my legs underneath the bench to escape Hitler.
“You didn’t have to.”
There was no response I could give, so I dropped the subject. “Maybe we should walk while we eat. I’m getting a little freaked out by these birds.”
The brief flare of tension subsided as we walked and ate and chatted about the most recent episode of a cop show we both watched. The sun dappled the path before us in light and shadow, and strolling along it with Jason was romantic in a cheesy romcom flick kind of way. I liked being with him. I liked him. I wanted to hold hands, but mine were still full of Jamaica wrap.
Even after we’d thrown the remnants of lunch in a trash bin, we still walked side by side without touching. The back of my hand grazed the back of his, and I thought he’d slip his hand into mine, but he didn’t. Neither did I. We were both a little awkward and unsure of where we stood with one another.
“Shoot, what time is it?” I checked my watch. “I’m going to be late for my meeting if I don’t go back right now. Sorry.” I looked up into Jason’s eyes, and my stomach did a little barrel roll. Kind of an extreme reaction to a simple meeting of eyes. “I’ll see you Sunday, then, at the dog park? I’ll text you directions.”
“Sure.” The timbre of his voice vibrated through me, making all my girl parts tingle. His smile set off a flutter too. I was crushing way too hard on somebody who was wildly inappropriate for me.
Chapter Eleven
Like I said, changing my routine is hard for me, and I had to work out a new sequence for how my date with Anna would go. I reviewed what bus I’d take to get to the dog park, where the station was, how much change I’d need in order to ride. I even wrote a
list to refer to in case I got confused. My therapist called the process “repatterning.”
I’d done all these things before our first date. Of course, that evening hadn’t gone according to plan yet ended up better than I’d ever expected.
I kept on track as I went to meet Anna that Sunday, got on the right bus, gave the right change, then stood because all the seats were full. I checked the dog’s name in the planner on my phone. Baby. Right. I could remember that.
As I rode, I ran through possible scenarios of how the day might go. We’d play with the dog, maybe stop for a bite, then go our separate ways after a few hours. Or, Anna might offer to drive me home. Maybe she’d come up to my apartment, and we’d fool around again. Then I remembered she’d have the dog with her, so maybe we’d go back to her place instead. She might make me dinner, and I’d stay late watching a movie. We’d start to make out during the movie and end up in her bed. Fantasizing “maybes,” I almost missed my stop and had to dash to the front of the bus as the driver was pulling away from the curb.
I entered the fence of the dog park and searched for Anna and—what the hell was her dog’s name again? As I started to check my notes, I heard my name called, and there she was, walking toward me.
Anna was always pretty, but in that moment she was achingly beautiful. The sun streaked her hair with gold, and the breeze wafted it around her face. Her eyes shone, and her smile actually hurt to look at. The fall day was warm enough to go without a jacket, so she wore a light blue tank top and cropped pants. Her bare arms and legs and neck were slender and oh so sexy. She held a red leash in one hand. At the end of it, a scruffy-looking terrier strained and panted.
“Hi. You made it,” she greeted me when she drew close.
As if I would have stood her up. Hah! For a moment, I was tongue-tied and couldn’t put two words together. I dropped to a squat in front of the dog.
“Cute…” Boy? Girl? I couldn’t remember. “Cute dog.”
Anna knelt too and ruffled the dog’s fur. “Yeah, she’s my baby.”
