The restaurant is off the beaten path; I doubt a GPS could even get me to it. We drive through the woods and into a clearing with a gravel parking lot and a building with a wraparound porch. Ceiling fans circle lazily in the autumn breeze coming off the river, and country music is blaring from the speakers.
Micah starts to get out but I touch her arm. “No,” I said. “Wait here and let me get the door for you.”
She looks at me, taken aback like she’s never had a guy want to get her car door before. But she nods and waits as I walk around, taking her by the hand and helping her out of the SUV. Her boots crunch on the gravel, and her hand stays in mine as we walk into the restaurant. It feels good, like we’re already a proper couple.
This restaurant houses more dead animals than a natural history museum. Taxidermy bass, marlin, snapper, and a few small alligators cover every wall. There are even several bucks with gigantic antlers. Each has a plaque underneath with the name of the hunter or fisherman and the date of kill/catch. Some of them even have names, like a bass named “Leroy Brown” behind our corner table by the window.
Micah sees me staring and chuckles.
“I guess it’s a lot if you aren’t used to it, huh?”
“Well, their branding is effective,” I say.
“The food is great. I hope you like seafood. The catfish is caught locally, but everything else is brought up from the Gulf each day.”
“Sounds delicious!”
The waitress brings a huge bowl of hushpuppies. The outside looks burnt, but the inside is perfectly moist, with tons of onions and not too much grease.
“These are amazing,” I say to Micah as she pops one in her mouth, somehow not smudging her red lipstick.
“I could eat these every day,” she says.
We look over the menu, and I order the shrimp and grits and Micah gets crab cakes with asparagus. We also each get a Cattywampus beer.
Once the waitress leaves, Micah’s face gets serious.
“Listen, Rhodes,” she begins with a dark tone. My stomach drops. I hope this isn’t the we-should-be-friends conversation. “I owe you an apology.”
I’m confused. “For what?” I ask.
“To be honest, I was kind of dating someone. I mean, not officially, but I was talking to someone for a long time when I met you. I may have mentioned it before but I should’ve been more upfront about it, since I know you like me. If I seemed like I was distant or being weird, that’s why.”
I note her use of past tense verbs. “You aren’t seeing this person anymore?”
“No,” she says. “Turns out, he wasn’t such a nice guy. He wasn’t with me for the right reasons.”
I nod, pause, and decide to put all my cards on the table. “Are you telling me this because you’re interested in being with me?”
“Maybe,” she says. “I do like you. But, to be honest, I’m kind of afraid. I mean, we live in different cities, which was one of the challenges with the other guy. It was easy for him to hide things from me and keep me at a distance. I also…” She looks down and fidgets with her nails.
“What?” I ask, reaching out to her. She puts her hands in mine.
“I still don’t know why you like me.”
“Micah, we’ve been over this. You’re far too good for me. My concern is I’m too old for you. If you like me and we want to give this a chance, you’ll be giving up being a mother. I’m too old to start over with a baby. I don’t want you to get to a certain age and begin to resent me for it.”
“That’s the least of my concerns right now. I told you I don’t want to have kids anyway.”
I nod. I know she has a lot going on with her grandmother, but I also know once her grandmother is no longer here, when Micah is alone with no one to care for, she may want to fill the void with a new family. I don’t say this out loud. The last thing I want to do is upset her.
“As far as the distance goes,” I say, “if we’re both committed and decide this is what we want, we’ll figure it out. Before we start making promises, I’d like to get to know each other better, if you’re open to it.”
She nods. “I am,” she says. “You’ll have to be patient with me. I need baby steps. I’m not good at this. And, to be honest, I’m absolutely terrified.”
I take a deep breath. “I can do that.”
Our beers arrive and we spend the rest of the evening drinking, eating, and talking about all the jobs I’ve been hired to work on, antiques she’s sold to different people around the state, and a completely ridiculous romance novel she’s reading about alien vampires.
