by Unknown
The next night’s conversation turned a little more personal when I asked why he never returned any of my messages.
“I was trying to do right by you. I didn’t bring my phone with me ’cause I knew I’d cave and call you. By leaving it, I was giving you space to work out whatever you needed to.”
“But I told you, Seth and I weren’t an item anymore.”
“You also told me you two’d been a couple since puberty, which isn’t something you just turn off like a light switch. I didn’t want to get in the middle. If you broke up because you wanted to, that was one thing – but I didn’t want to be the reason you broke up.”
“So you didn’t hear any of my voicemails?”
“No way. If I’d heard your voice, it would’ve been over. I would’a just called. I took Missy to a friend’s house before I took off, and left my cell phone there.”
“Well, there’s probably over a hundred, so when you get back, if you wouldn’t mind, delete them. Most of them were pretty pathetic.”
“I’m glad I didn’t know - I probably would’ve had Julio overnight the phone to me so I could hear them.”
We talked every night for hours, until the twenty-eighth. It turned out that my imagination wasn’t all that far off. He was very athletic: most of his free time seemed to be consumed with a sport of some kind, and not as a spectator. His voice had a cadence to it, enough of a southern drawl to tell he was native, but not so much that he came off as a hick. It was such a relief to know that this wasn’t one-sided - he was just as in to me, as I was him. When we hung up Friday night, it felt like I would never be able to fall asleep.
Max was dead set on picking me up at my house Saturday morning, but after a great deal of convincing, I told him I could wait for him at his apartment building, not wanting to delay our reunion for one second longer than I had to. I was in front of his building thirty minutes before his plane even landed.
I saw a black truck setting by itself in the corner of the parking lot, looking as though it hadn’t moved in a while. I remembered the only other time I had seen it, speeding down my street, and the thought gave me shivers. I decided to wait for Max by his truck. I’m sure his neighbors must have thought me a stalker, because I stood in the parking lot and looked at my watch and the time on my cell every thirty seconds until I finally saw a yellow cab pulling into the parking lot. It was really him!
Max walked straight to me and gave me a huge hug, “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve got the whole day planned.” He put his suitcase in the back of his truck where I had been leaning for over an hour.
“Don’t you want to put that in your apartment?”
“No, I’d rather not waste the time.”
I climbed up into the truck and saw Max still standing at the passenger side door. He was looking just as nervous as I felt. Just when I thought he was going to shut it, he nervously added, “Lauren, I’m glad you’re spending the day with me. In case I forget to tell you tonight when I bring you back, I had a really good time.” He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.
My cheeks felt so warm that I knew I was blushing. I could hardly contain my excitement - one whole day of Max. Since that night in the hospital, I wasn’t sure if I would ever get to be with him, yet the recurring memory of those few incredible minutes with him had replayed over and over in my mind. As time passed, my mind had likely embellished our moment.
I tried to lower my expectations for today, confident that no one could be that perfect. I convinced myself that I never really felt an electric shock from his touch. Although my mind had reviewed and reasoned the moment over and over, a part of me, however small, still believed it had happened.
He sat in his seat, put the keys in the ignition, and the truck quickly turned over. His right hand moved to the gear shift, then hesitated, then his hands moved back to the steering wheel. Max looked straight ahead. A sense of panic came over me, worry that his hesitation meant that he had changed his mind about spending the day with me. After enough of a pause for my imagination to start running through all the worst case scenarios, he looked at me, “I know this is supposed to be a day where we can get to know each other better, and believe me, this is all I’ve thought about since that night in your hospital room, but…” He didn’t finish his sentence. I braced for the absolute worst: that he didn’t care at all for me, that he was just being kind to a girl who was overly infatuated with him.
Max leaned all the way over to my seat, moved one hand behind my headrest, while his other gently went to my cheek. “I hope this is okay, but I can’t wait one more second.” Max’s eyes closed, his head tilted, and his lips were on mine. His lips parted and I received the most passionate kiss of my entire life. The longing that I had felt since the last night we saw each other made this moment that much more unbelievable.
The electric shock that I had nearly convinced myself had been a figment of my imagination wasn’t. Electricity coursed through me the second his hand touched my cheek, and the little tingles I had felt during our first kiss were replaced by massive electric pulses through my entire body.
In this moment, I knew no matter what I learned about him, there would never be any man in my life but Max. It wouldn’t matter if he turned out to be a serial killer, my certainty that he was definitely the man of my dreams was cemented, and I was undeniably destined to be with him.
After several minutes, Max and I ended our embrace and distanced our lips by a few inches from one another.
“I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. I didn’t know if I’d get a chance to kiss you again.” His gaze burrowed into me, “It was definitely worth the wait.”
The rosy blush I felt a minute ago was replaced by a brilliant red.
Max’s hand continued to caress my cheek. “I planned to take you somewhere special today, but at this point it’s up to you. Today’s already the best day of my life, and I could sit right here with no regrets.”
I found myself not caring much if we ever got out of the truck. My heart was racing like crazy. I had to take in a deep breath to keep my voice from sounding all giddy. Let’s see, hang out in the parking lot all day with the man I’ve fantasized about for four years, or go on an adventure with the fantasy man? “If you’d told me where this road trip was taking us, it might help me decide.”
Max nodded at me, “You’re right, this was my choice, and I really do want to take you… somewhere. How’s your leg feeling? Are you going to be up for a day outdoors?”
A little nervous of what his day outdoors might entail, I did my best to sound excited, “I don’t know that I can climb a mountain or anything, but I’m up for it.”
“Okay, it’s settled then, we won’t stay in the parking lot. It’ll take about forty-five minutes to get where we’re going.”
Max put the truck in gear and pulled out onto the street. I tried to think of places forty-five minutes away. He confessed it was one of his favorite places in the world: maybe a park that he liked, or a lake, or a favorite restaurant? I sat silently turning over all the possibilities, and then it hit me that none of them really mattered. I was finally with Max.
Conversation in the truck while we drove was sparse at best. It wasn’t uncomfortable, it just didn’t seem to be a priority for either of us.
Max had a strange idea of a first date. Although at twenty-two years old, never having actually gone on a first date until today, I guess I was not an expert. The girly part of me thought of a walk on the beach, a chartered boat on the harbor, a stroll through an old plantation; all of these options we had talked about the last couple weeks, and all seemed like a picture perfect first date. In my mind I was picturing the warm sunshine, green foliage, quiet moments together. These were my ideal first dates with Max. As I looked at the building in front of us, I wondered how this could possibly be his choice.
Then the reality of today grabbed me, and I asked myself whether it really mattered what we did with our time. I just wanted to
spend time with him. This might not be the most romantic choice, but it was bound to be a blast, literally.
Chapter Eleven
Max helped me out of the truck, grabbed a small plastic box from under the back seat, and led me to the front door. He held the door for me and shouted a greeting to the man behind the counter, “Hi, Marvin, how’ve you been?”
The man behind the counter looked up from some papers he’d been reading. After a second or two the recognition registered on Marvin’s face, and he replied, “Max, it’s great to see you! Did you have a good trip? I didn’t know you were back already.”
Not during any of our conversations had Max mentioned that he enjoyed guns, knives, or weapons of any kind. Yet here we were on our first date at an indoor shooting range, and from the looks of the proprietor, Max was one of his regulars. Marvin and Max talked for a few minutes, then Max remembered I was his sidekick today and introduced me to Marvin. “Marvin, this is Lauren. She was on the wrong end of a Beretta a few months ago, so I thought it might be a good idea for her to squeeze the trigger a few times.”
Marvin eyed me closely, “What’chu mean the wrong end?”
Max grinned and nodded to me, as if this had been a perfect introduction. I answered with, “I was shot in a robbery a few months ago.” I had shared the details with all my friends and family, but I really didn’t feel comfortable sharing them with a near stranger. Marvin was staring at me, so it was clear he wasn’t satisfied with my answer. “At the Tasty Burger on Main.”
In an excited, booming voice, Marvin asked, “That was you?” I nodded, and he reached out for my hand, and shook it with both of his. “Well, my goodness, we don’t get many local heroes in here. Today’s on me. Which cannon you wanna shoot first?”
I had never actually held a gun before. Marvin handed me a noise cancelling headset and a .22 caliber handgun with two clips of ammunition. He asked questions about my experience level, and then proceeded through a very long, detailed, liability statement.
After the .22, he handed me a .38, then a .45. He called the .45 a Magnum, and it was so powerful it knocked me back a couple steps when I fired. Had he not warned me ahead of time, it probably would have knocked me on my butt. What a rush! I had been a pretty good marksman with the .22, but as the caliber progressively increased with each new gun, I got significantly sloppier. After unloading the rounds in the .45, Max asked if I wanted to take a little break.
We went into a back room where there were a couple tables and chairs and vending machines. He got sodas and some chips and asked, “So, are you having a good time?”
Shocked by my own answer, “Yeah, I really am. When we pulled up out front, I thought you must be crazy, but this is a riot. How often do you come here?”
“It depends on the week, sometimes two or three times, sometimes not for a month. I like the range. It’s a good way to blow off steam when I need to wind down.” He paused briefly, “It’s fun having you along. I wasn’t sure if you’d enjoy it or not, but thought if we were spending the day trying to get to know each other, this was a part of me I wanted you to experience, rather than just hear about.”
“That was a good call on your part. Given the last three months of recovery time, if you’d asked me if I wanted to go shoot handguns, I would’ve told you no. Before the shooting, I never really had an opinion one way or the other, and after having been shot, I’d have to say I wasn’t much in favor of the average citizen carrying them around. I really liked shooting that .22. Do you think Marvin will let me keep the target?”
As if on cue, Marvin opened the door to the break room with the target in hand. “Lauren, want a souvenir?” He handed me the target, a profile with a person’s silhouette standing – with hits in a shoulder, the chest and even the head.
Unable to contain my enthusiasm, “Thanks! And thanks for letting me try all the different guns.”
“It was my pleasure.” We heard the door chime from the front of the store, indicating someone had just come in. “You come back anytime.” Marvin left us to go greet whoever had just entered.
It was just Max and I again. I desperately wanted to pick up where we had left off in his truck and kiss him. But before I could make a move, the break room door opened for a huge man (at least six foot five and easily two hundred fifty pounds). The man boomed, “Holy crap, Max, you’re out of town for a few months, then you materialize out of nowhere with a girl friend?” My heart skipped a few beats at being called Max’s girlfriend.
Max didn’t correct this human giant with anything like, “This is our first date,” “This is my friend,” or any other thing to qualify me as something less than his girlfriend. “Stanley, this is Lauren Davis. Lauren, this is Stanley Manuel.”
Stanley held out his huge hand, “My friends call me Stan the Man. Get it? Stanley Manuel, Stan the Man?” He was obviously proud of his nickname, and had a firm grip when he took my hand. I didn’t wince from pain or anything, but this was obviously no one I ever wanted to arm wrestle.
Max fired back with, “No, we don’t call you Stan the Man. Keep trying to convince everyone, though.” Stan walked over to Max and gave him a big bear hug, then returned his attention to me. “Marvin says you were the little lady that got shot a few months back at Tasty Burger?”
I nodded, “That’s how I met Max. He saved my life that night.”
Stanley paused for a second, then in a jovial voice, “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. I saw the story on the news. What’re you doing with Max when there are real men in this town to choose from?” He let out a hearty belly laugh and slapped Max on the back.
Max laughed it off, but I was pretty sure I saw a flicker of jealousy in his eyes. “Yeah, Stanley, she’ll be sure to call one, when she needs one.” Max turned his attention back to me, “Did you want to shoot anymore or are you ready for a bite to eat?”
Feeling a bit more testosterone in the room than seemed necessary, I answered, “I could eat.” Max reached down and took my hand in his and led me out of the break room. He called over his shoulder, “See you later, Stanley.” Being escorted quickly, I turned to Stanley, “It was nice meeting you.”
We said our goodbyes to Marvin, and I thanked him again for letting me try out all the guns and letting me keep the target. We got back in the truck, and made our way to an IHOP. Conversation was easy. He started with, “So tell me everything about yourself, don’t leave anything out.” What a joke. I don’t even know everything about me.
I had already decided I wouldn’t start with anything crazy like, “I’ve been dreaming about you for years” or, “You know you are my destiny.” Both of these seemed like relationship enders at this juncture. Trying to think of something benign, I decided on, “I like watching movies. I’m not a huge fan of movie theaters, because you’re forced to share the story with fifty strangers. However, that doesn’t apply to horror films; having as many people as possible sitting around me screaming always seems to improve the effect of the movie.”
“Okay, noted. If we watch a chick flick we should rent it; if it’s a scary film we need to go to the theater. Thanks for the tip. Any other hints for future dates?” I shook my head but didn’t reply. “You’re pretty close to graduation. What’s next?”
I really didn’t like this question, as I was sure he wouldn’t be all that impressed with my answer. “I haven’t applied to grad schools or interviewed for any jobs. I’m not sure that I want to start my life long career right away, but I obviously don’t want to sponge off of my parents anymore either. I thought I’d take a year or two off and figure out what I want to do.” I glanced his direction to see his reaction, to see if it made him wince, the way it had everyone else I shared it with.
I was happy to see no evidence of disapproval. He followed with, “What are you going to do during your hiatus? Go back to work at Tasty Burger? Travel around Europe? Or just hang out?”
His tone wasn’t accusatory at all, just plain, uncloaked interest – his response pleased me
immensely. “I’m not backpacking through Europe, but beyond that, I’m not committed to anything. Up until recently I had my life pretty well mapped out. But the last few months have kind of blown my plans out of the water. Now that I’m behind the wheel, I haven’t made any real decisions. Pretty sad, right?”
Max shook his head at my question, “Not at all. When the right thing strikes you, you’ll just know.”
He couldn’t be closer to the truth, in more ways than one. “You sound like you’re talking from experience?”
“I guess I am. I was in my sophomore year of college, heading for a degree in engineering, when I realized I really didn’t want to engineer anything. I wanted to help people. I wasn’t ready to switch majors to pre-med and start over. I’ve never seen myself as a nurse, so I thought I’d take a step back and go through EMT training, and see where that took me. Everything just kind of fell into place from there. I can’t explain it. I don’t know if I’ll do this forever, but right now I feel like this is what I’m supposed to be doing. Weird, right?”
Now was definitely not the time to talk to him about destiny. The last thing I wanted to do was scare him off before I got a chance to spend any real time with him. “No, it’s kind of amazing. You just up and decide your life isn’t going the direction you want it to, re-evaluate new paths, and you go for it. That isn’t weird, it’s romantic.”
“Romantic? I wouldn’t describe being a paramedic as romantic. It’s a whole lot closer to a character in a horror movie.”
“Not romantic like falling in love, but romantic like not being afraid of chasing your dreams, you know, believing in yourself.”
Max mulled over my answer, “I never thought of it that way. I don’t know if I’ll do it forever, but it feels right, for now.”
