by Renee Lovins
My hands fiddled with bread as I thought about it. I lifted my eyes and looked at him. "Because you asked. You seemed to see me. And I missed feeling like a woman. Being wanted. And I didn't die." I sighed and dropped the mangled piece of bread. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have come. Here, I'll leave some money."
"Heather?" I paused and looked up at him, he had a half-smile. "I'd like it if you stayed. I'd like to get to know you. No pressure. Just two adults enjoying each other's company."
His smile, the warm eyes, and the honesty in his voice had me sitting back down.
"If you want. I can't promise anything."
"The only thing I want is dinner with a woman that I'd like to get to know better."
I relaxed and settled back down. We talked, we laughed, we shared stories. Chris liked action movies just like I did, and he loved sci-fi. He preferred the space opera novels to the more tongue-in-cheek science fiction that I loved. We entered a heated discussion about some of the most popular series out there, but both of us agreed Baen's authors remained the first choice when looking for a new writer to read.
The check came and I froze, etiquette and new mores mixing in my head.
"Heather, I asked you out. Let me buy dinner." He glanced at the check. "Oh no, forty-five dollars. Ack." He rolled his eyes and I had to laugh. We had talked about salary and he made significantly more than I did, and that amount was less than what I would spend on books without thinking.
"Thank you," I didn't look at him as I said it, but I smiled as I put my napkin down.
I enjoyed this.
The thought astonished me, but it felt good. We walked out together, not speaking as we navigated around people and for a minute it seemed normal. Then we got outside and my body locked up and my mind went into a spiral.
Oh my god, what now, is he going to kiss me? Do I want him to kiss me? I miss kisses, but..
The frantic thoughts going crazy as Chris stopped in front of me.
"Relax, Heather. I'm not going to kiss you."
A wave of disappointment flooded me, followed closely by absolute exasperation.
What is my issue?
He held out his hand to shake. I stuck mine out in automatic response. Instead of shaking it, he lifted it and dropped a kiss to the back of my knuckles sending a shiver of awareness up my arm and straight down my spine.
"I'd like to see you again. There's the newest comic book movie out. Would you like to go see it? Saturday afternoon? Maybe we can get coffee after wards?"
A slow smile grew across my face. I took a deep breath and nodded. My throat too tight to speak.
His grin lit up his face, and I realized how attractive he was when he smiled. Or maybe it was just me, liking a man who liked me.
"Good. Call or text if you want. We can finalize later this week."
"I will. Thanks." My voice didn't shake as I said that though my heart didn't know what to think or feel.
One more smile and he turned headed away. With shaky legs I made it back to my car. I locked the door and sat there, my mind locked in what-if's and confusion.
You never realize how much your spouse touches you, until it stops. I hungered for the sensation of skin on skin, the way smokers hunger for the feel of a cigarette between their fingers. The touch of skin on mine implied so much more besides the tactile sensation.
It took a car honking at me, wanting my parking spot, before I moved. Arriving at home, having spent the entire drive in a haze of thoughts, I headed into my bedroom and stopped to catch my image in the mirror.
A sudden urge had me stripping and standing there looking at my nude reflection in the mirror. It had been a long time since I looked at myself, and what I saw surprised me.
The curves were generous, but not overly so. I looked proportional for my five-six height. My breasts weren't too bad for an almost middle aged woman. I looked sad and worn. More so than the last time I remembered really looking at myself. But, I didn't look bad. Maybe I was someone worth dating.
Still nude I walked over to the picture on the wall. Our wedding portrait. I'd moved it into the bedroom after his death, wanting to be able to see him. For a long time I stood there looking at the smiling people. Part of me wanted to warn her. To let her know of the pain to come. But I'd never give up the joy I had also, not even for all the tears I'd shed.
Maybe it is time for me to try.
My stomach clenched in sudden butterflies, but the smile that hovered at the corner of my lips felt more real than most of my smiles.
That night sleep came easy. I woke feeling more rested than I had in a while. I even had some interest in the future.
The ping of my cell phone in the middle of the work day surprised me. Few people texted me as I didn't have many local friends. I'd moved here when John got transferred, and that had only been a year before his death. Picking it up I saw a number that didn't have a name attached.
*I enjoyed last night. I hope you did too.*
Chris. A half giggle burst out of my lips before I clamped them closed. With a spurt of joy I added him as a contact and then looked at the message again for a minute.
Do I reply? Is this what people do now? Do I care?
I dismissed the crazy thoughts and typed back with careful taps of the virtual keys.
*I did. I'm glad you asked.*
Chewing on my lip I looked at what I wrote, then before I could change my mind I continued typing. *I'm looking forward to Saturday.*
My smile grew when his response came back in under a minute.
*Me too. I missed having someone to talk about books with. Movie has good reviews*
*I did too…*
A ding of an email coming in pulled my attention away, followed by a small escalation at work, prevented me from picking my phone back up until the end of the day.
Two messages were waiting for me, and the beat of my heart in my skull sounded like steel drums.
*I'll have to bring the one I was talking about with me. The Freehold one.*
*Okay work is pinging me. Later, H*
He has a nickname for me.
A half laugh escaped me, I didn't know if I was terrified or excited. At home I tried hard not to get too excited to hope too much. I didn't know if I was ready for another relationship. Heck, I didn't know if that was what this was. But either way I felt more alive than I had in a while.
John's death, sudden and unexpected, I had handled. I survived without him, and everyone told me how well I was doing. I didn't feel that way. Most of the time I felt like an empty shell that followed the same old paths without any interest as to where they led. But this, this was new, different, terrifying, and alive in a way I hadn't since I received the call that he had been killed.
There weren't any more text messages, which disappointed me, but then I didn't send any either. I kept reaching for the phone, then would chicken out. Dating sucked, why in the world was I doing this to myself?
The phone ringing Friday night pulled me out of a star nation fighting an enemy. A smile I didn't even try to stop blossomed as I saw Chris's name on the caller id.
"Hi," I answered, and then winced as I realized I sounded like a breathless teenager. Not my goal.
"Hey. I wanted to make sure we were still on for the movie tomorrow."
My stomach clenched tight. "Yes. I mean as long as you still want to."
A deep sigh came from the other end, and my stomach turned to ice.
"Yes. I do. I was worried that you had changed your mind. Did you want to get dinner instead of coffee? And which movie theater would be better?"
I leaned back, the rush of relief scaring me. Did I want this that badly? Or did I just want to be wanted? Or did it matter?
"Movie first, then maybe snacks after?" That way if it was a disaster we weren't stuck either of us could cancel and not then be committed.
"That sounds fine." We finished making plans, the entire time my stomach acted like it had been infested with Mexican jumping beans.
We hung up and once again I realized I really didn't have any date clothes.
I've got another date.
The mental thought was laced with both excited and astonishment.
3
Saturday morning found me at the mall looking for clothes. I hadn't bought anything besides some socks since John. My wardrobe had sufficed for work though most clothes hung loose on me. I hadn't cared enough to update it. And at home, well I wore sweats and tank tops. There wasn't anyone there to see me, so what difference did it make? But now, now I needed something to wear for a date, with a guy that I looked forward to seeing.
Clothes shopping normally made me want to slit my writs, and this time it wasn't too much different. Trying to find something to wear that didn't scream 'slut' or 'needs to get laid' on one end to 'frump' or 'grandma' on the other. I was about to scream when I finally tried on something on the spur of the moment. Mixed with form fitting jeans that were actually comfortable I tried on a top that accented my chest without threatening to rip apart at the seams. It had a funky purple and green print that I liked and hugged my waist flaring out at my hip. Looking at myself in the mirror I smiled. I looked cute, young, and dateable.
A little extra make up, and I headed out, actively looking forward to our evening.
Standing outside the movie theater I frowned, the movie started in five minutes and Chris hadn't shown up. I swallowed hard.
See, he doesn't really want to date me. But, I don't understand.
Tears threatened to follow. Fighting them back, I sniffed hard. I was so tired of crying in public. I stood there waiting, until five minutes after the show had started. Holding my head up, eyes once again unseeing I headed to the car, feeling a meltdown hovering on the edge of my heart.
I can't do this, I don't want to date. This hurts too much, I can't take this.
My hand reached for the door, and I heard someone yelling my name.
"Heather. Heather, wait."
I turned, and saw Chris, moving at a rapid pace towards me. My knees threatened to buckle and I leaned against my car as my world got turned upside down yet again.
"Heather, I'm so sorry." The man almost babbled as he reached me. His hair was slightly mussed and there was an odd sense of panic in his body language.
"For?" My voice remained wary, I couldn't help it.
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair making it stand up more and he seemed to sag though nothing changed. "I was late getting out of the house. Lana had a last minute crisis with her boyfriend and school. Then," he looked down at his feet shuffling them, "I might have been a bit heavy on the gas, and I got pulled over. Apparently I was so agitated the cop felt the need to do a field sobriety test on me. And… that's why I'm so late." He looked up at me, waving his hands in the air. "I really didn't want you to think I had blown you off."
"You were speeding trying to get here on time?"
He nodded, still looking embarrassed. I had to smile. I couldn't remember the last time a man had risked anything for me. The pain of a few minutes early seemed to transform into a bubbling fountain of hope. Hope I didn't know if I wanted.
I glanced at my watch. "Well, the movie has already started, even accounting for the previews." I left it there, my heart felt like I was on the deck of a ship in a storm, and I didn't have the energy to do anything else except ride the waves.
"I figured. But, I still would like to spend some time with you. Want to go get dinner?"
I looked at him for a long time, and he met my gaze, the slightest smile on his lips, waiting. It was the patience that got me.
"Sure." There was a restaurant not far from the theater and by unspoken agreement we just walked over, unspeaking, and I took the time to try to regain my equilibrium. I hadn't realized how much I wanted this, until I thought it false.
I don't know if I can do this. I hurt so much.
The thought hung in my mind, but it is closely followed by more truth.
And losing John hurt too. But the pain was the effect of your love. If you didn't care it wouldn't hurt. Right now I'm just over sensitive. You can survive anything, you've already survived the worst the world can throw at you.
That thought shed some of the pain that had lanced across my heart. By the time the hostess seated us my sanity had been reasserted, at least I thought it had been.
"I don't know about you, but I could use a drink." He commented.
"God, yes." The words slipped out so fast that I had to grin.
"What would you like?"
I weighed my options, I still had to drive home. But I didn't have to get up in the morning. "Did you want to catch a later movie?"
His face lit up, and I felt my heart stutter. When you find a man attractive it is more than his face or body. It's the way he looks at you, like you're beautiful. When Chris smiled, it was for me, and that was something I hadn't realized I had missed. But, oh god I had missed that.
"I'd really like that."
I forced the lump in my throat down. "Then a Long Island please. I figure between the food and then the movie, it will wear off."
"Sounds good to me."
We placed orders for food and drinks, then I sat back and looked at him.
"What?" The question wasn't defensive, but interested, and it changed my mind as to what I was going to ask.
"So tell me about Lana. What was the crisis?"
Chris rubbed the bridge of his nose, and I tried to keep my mouth straight. "You don't have children right?"
"No." I shook my head as I answered. It hadn't been anything John or I cared about. I didn't dislike children, we just never wanted them. I definitely didn't regret that now, the idea of doing all of this with a child was enough to give me a panic attack.
"Hmm." He rubbed a hand over his mouth as he sat back. Chris started to talk, but the waiter showed up with our drink, and both of us took the time to take a long sip. The alcohol cut through the thickness in my throat and allowed me to let go of the last dregs of fear, anger, and pain that had infested me.
"So, Lana. She is the light in my life, and I daily have to resist strangling her." His self-depreciating smirk made me smile, and I just listened. It felt good to listen to someone talk about something with amusement and not restrained grief. I had enough of my own grief, I didn't need to hear about others.
"She's a senior in high school. And up until this semester, she's kept up a 3.8 GPA. She's relatively popular, but doesn't really date. But in the last three months, she's decided she is tired of school and refused to do her homework. She'll be 18 in two months, before she graduates. I couldn't seem to get it through her head that senior year isn't time to slack off."
"And that was the crisis?"
"Oh, no. That was the background to the crisis. She just found out she is flunking one of her required classes to graduate. And she had a full meltdown, begging me to call her teacher and ask for extra credit or get to retake some tests. Then add in the fact she just broke up with her boyfriend, and he wasn't happy about it, it created a perfect storm."
It took me a second to process that and I frowned. "So, she's been slacking, and is now surprised there are consequences?"
He nodded as he took another drink.
The next comment burst out of my mouth before I could stop it. "Is she a moron?"
Chris burst out in laughter and leaned towards it, letting the sound wrap around me. I could have listened to it for the rest of the night. Maybe I could record it and listen to it as I fell asleep.
"No. She's smart, too smart. Which is why she's been slacking. Everything's been too easy. So hence meltdown precipitated by boyfriend angst. And while I am, and I quote, 'a cruel heartless uncaring father' unquote, I figured I had to at least get her to quit crying. Besides, she was in the hall blocking the door. She's gotten a bit too big to step over." The shared amusement of the smile invited me in on the joke.
"So what happened?"
He sighed, "I got her to quit crying. Convinced h
er to open up her books and study, and Monday, I'd pick her up from school and we'd go talk to the teacher. But only, if she had every single homework assignment done by Monday morning."
I had to think a minute, I'd been out of school for a long time. "It's February, isn't school over in like May or June?"
"Yep."
"She has almost seven months of homework to do this weekend?"
"Yep."
I snorted with laughter. "She's right you are cruel and heartless. I like."
A new look gleamed in his eyes, one that caught me by surprise and made my breath catch.
"I'm glad."
Food saved me from having to say anything. The waiter placed our food, checked on us, and disappeared again as Chris continued, the gleam in his eye more muted but still there.
"So, when I finally got away from teenage angst, I was at least 10 minutes behind when I had wanted to leave. But I thought I could make it. So, I might have pushed the speed limit in a few places?"
"Might have?"
"Okay so I ignored it. And got a hefty ticket for my troubles." He winced. "I tried to call, but in the hurry to get out of the house before I got sucked back in, my phone was left there."
"Which meant you couldn't call." I had checked my phone a few times, each time getting more depressed, but life happened. More than anyone I knew that. Sometimes life kicked your knees out from underneath you.
"Forgive me?" His voice was low, and he watched me carefully.
Stalling for time, I lifted my glass and had some more. I wanted to see where this would go. I was terrified to see where this would go. Going home and hiding and staying in my safe little routine of work and home would be quieter. No tears, no risk, no fear. And it would kill me one day at a time.
"Sure. Especially since you're paying for the movie and dinner." The smile on face told him I mostly teased, but he grinned.
"Hard bargain. I'll take it." Smiles were nice. I hadn't realized how much I missed them, ones filled with humor and not false cheer.
Dinner disappeared too quickly and we checked to make sure there was a movie about to start, there was, and walked over. He bought the tickets, and neither of us were interested in snacks after the meal, so we found our seats, and settled in to listen to the previews.
