He'd
gotten under her skin with his direct ways, and she was bummed out giving in so
easily to those sad dreamy eyes of his.
She had willingly followed him to this restaurant he'd suggested even
though she knew he wasn't her type.
She'd agreed to leave her car and wait in his, and looking over her
shoulder at her own dog, she felt bad that he still laid motionless on the back
seat where she had shoved him, even though devil pup continued to climb all
over him. Staring back at the rain
rolling down the outside of his windshield she wondered when it was she had
begun to become so pathetically desperate.
How was she going to eat all that food?
She wasn't even hungry. Her feet
rested on top of the pile of junk he'd tossed from the seat to the floor to
make room for her Levi clad tush.
Shifting her balance, something cracked beneath her shoes, but she
ignored it. She wasn't ready to find out
what a never cleaned vehicle really looked like up close and personal.
The
longer he waited, the more he convinced himself that he would be returning with
one expensive meal and one cheap meal to a car with only a little black curly furred
pup inside. Glancing again at his cell
phone, he was stressed that his thirty minute wait had only been ten minutes so
far. Standing before the mirror in the
men's room, he began to realized the magnitude of work involved to keep this
lady interested in him. It was hell
convincing her to follow him in her little red sports car, then leaving it
empty parked next to his. For the first
time in his single life the fear of being boring clamped onto his brain
like the jaws of death spinning him out of control. She seemed to have the upper hand, and he
felt like he was running eighty miles an hour to keep up with her. He was an idiot to think she would ever be his.
Over-thinking didn't even begin to describe her right now. Tired of waiting for a meal
she didn't need, a man she didn't know, a complication she didn't want, she
stared at this puppy in her lap that made her feel guilty each time she pet it. No way was her own dog getting on her
lap. She never allowed it...never. She had a tendency to pick hell when it came
to the opposite sex; nevertheless, she was failing to convince herself that
not being her type was a good thing at this point. He was just too different. He had already usurped her from her comfort
zone, and she was mad, then perplexed at herself for choosing to still be
here. Her thoughts evaporated as the
driver's door flew open and her rain soaked problem in rusty armor sat down
beside her with a large bag of eats and that sweet sheepish smile on his rather
old face that she found herself falling in love with...darn it!
He tossed his dog next to hers and hurriedly gave them the double order of meatballs out of the bag and
hoped they wouldn't become sick. He
didn't really know women at all. Just guessing at what she might like, he chose expensive and she seemed to be
pleased with the veal dish he pulled out of the bag for her. He looked at his spaghetti with regret, but
he knew she was worth it, he hoped. He
fished a bottle of water from the floor and opened it for her, setting it in
the bottle holder between them. He
thought all women liked to talk, but she said nothing. He could hear himself chewing his salad. It
was driving him nuts. He wondered if it
was driving her crazy.
"Do
you walk that park often?" What a
lame way to start a conversation. He
could kick himself, but he just looked at her hoping she would simply answer
and be done with it.
"I
haven't been there in years. Not
since...well, let's just say it's been a long time before I had another dog to
walk. I never like walking alone. What about you?"
"Never
been there before."
She
looked at him, "Like two ships passing in the night." She was surprised that dorky phrase escaped
from her lips.
He
grinned. "Kind of...but it's the
pup to blame. I'm not much on
hiking."
Instead
of answering, she ate a spear of asparagus, drank a sip of water, and looked
back at him with those killer eyes.
"I love hiking, but I don't do it as often anymore. Do you still work?"
"Retired,
but I work for myself."
"Oh,
at what?"
Why
did he always do this to himself? Always
having to explain the absurd. Why
couldn't he be normal and not raise eyebrows.
"I scoop up dog poop for clients.
Sorry."
She
looked at him with her veal speared fork hovering in front of her opened mouth.
He
thought she was going to be froze there for eternity, but she suddenly smiled
and ate the piece of veal.
"Must
be good business. Lots of dogs out there
and they all shit, I mean poop." He
laughed and she was beginning to feel comfortable with him. "Cleaning up dog poop...the one thing I
hate about dogs. I'm not really a dog
person. I'm just a sucker for a cute
face on a homeless mutt."
"Lucifer's
my first dog, but he's in my life to stay, so I guess I'm a dog person. Cats...that's a different bag of
problems. Can't stand those little
monkeys." He thought the sparkle dimmed
in her eyes and wondered what he had said wrong. "What?" he cautiously inquired.
"Nothing. So, what else do you like in your life
besides dogs?"
He
looked at her still wondering. "I'm
flexible, I can adapt to anything, and still like it, probably. I like to shoot, not cats of course", he
grinned, but she didn't so he knew he was digging a hole for himself. Changing the subject was his next best choice. "What kind of work do you do?"
"Not
the kind I would like. I'm a
secretary. No, well...sort of a
secretary. I do everything and more than
a secretary would do." Her voice
trailed off. "I'm a ....."
He
bent closer so he could hear her better.
"You're what?"
Annoyed,
"A clerk!" she blurted out a little too loudly. " I'm just a clerk."
He
watched her with her lips curled inward as she picked at what was left on her
plate. Pulling a small carton out of the
bag that sat next to his feet, "I took a chance and got you a little
something for dessert."
The
tiramisu was convincing her he was a keeper...she was in heaven with each savored
bite. "This would be perfect with a
cup of cappuccino." She smiled at
him, wondering if he still was interested in her.
"Next
time", he smiled. "So, where
does my just a clerk work?"
She
wanted to end this line of questioning, but she answered. "At a park north of town."
"Wow,
that must be exciting!"
"It
isn't."
"Oh."
"I
guess if my desk were out in the middle of the forest in perfect weather with a
canopy over it to keep the ticks from dropping onto my head it would be nice,
but I sit in a stuffy building no bigger than a suitcase in front of a computer
all day answering the phone, making everyone else happy and never myself, so it
pretty well sucks." She stopped
herself and looked into those troubled eyes of his. "It's not all that bad. I just thought I would have more than that by
now."
"My
sister said the same thing when she was alive.
She told me she was raised to find a husband to support her, then kicked
out by our parents to survive on her own.
She had a hard time, but she was my little sister. I would have done anything for her and I
did." He put the empty cartons back
into the bag on the floor and looked sadly out the drying windshield.
She
knew she shouldn't ask, but she needed to know.
"What happened to her?"
He
still stared at the windshield and answered, "She died in a car
wreck. Her drunk husband killed
her." He shifted his body to face
her, and with his right hand pushed a wisp of her hair from her face and
smiled. "Have you thought about
going back to school to compete for a better job?"
"I
did with my last husband, but he wasn't interested in helping me. I haven't been able to afford it yet on my
own."
"You're
last husband?"
"Yes."
"Last
husband...not ex-husband?" He
watched her, but she just sighed and turned away from him. He leaned towards her and whispered,
"I'm not going to like you any less.
I've already gone beyond that."
"Three."
"Three? Three what?"
She turned her head and felt her cheek brush against his. "Three husbands. I've had
three husbands."