“I don’t know if I want to date someone I work with. It could be awkward.”
“That’s a good point. Plus, couples that work together can be weird. At the last school I worked at, a VP was married to one of the teachers. They commuted together, ate lunch together, even held hands in the halls sometimes.” He looks baffled by the memory.
“That seems like too much of your day spent together,” I agree. “I mean, what would they talk about at dinner? How their days were? They’d already know.”
“Exactly. Anyway,” he leans forward, elbows on the table. “Where are you taking me tomorrow?”
“All the best places. You will be a certified neighborhood expert by the time I’m through with you.”
“I can’t wait.” He looks down and then back up at me. “Thank you, Betts. For everything.” I am aglow with pure affection for this man.
“You’re welcome.” And before I can stop myself, I add, “I’m so glad you’re here.” We stare at each other.
“I am too.” And I know from the look in his eyes that he means it as much as I do.
We load up the dishwasher and fight over who gets to keep the leftovers. I win because one, he paid for the food and two, he and Thai Food have been kept apart for so long.
When he hugs me at the door, he actually lifts me off the ground like I weigh nothing. I close my eyes and savor the feel of him. When he releases me, I actually mourn the loss of his body against mine. And then he’s gone and I’m floating through my nighttime routine. I go straight to bed, because the sooner I sleep, the sooner I get to see him again. And the sooner I’m alone in the dark, I can release some tension while picturing what might have happened if he had opened my bedroom door earlier.
Chapter 8
Josh
“Thanks again, Mr. Ramirez!”
“I will see you both again very soon!” The stout man waves happily at us from his counter. “Don’t let him go see anyone else! I’ll know!” The fact that he’s pointing at me while wielding sharp scissors might seem threatening, but the man is essentially a five-foot-four-inch gummy bear. I promise him I’ll be back for a much-needed haircut soon.
“Why do you go to a barber?” I ask after we’ve exited the shop. Betty points to our left and we fall into step with each other on the sidewalk. She’s wearing fitted jeans and an indigo half-zip jacket that makes her eyes look greener than ever. Her ponytail swishes side to side as we walk, matching her bouncy energy.
“I’ve never met a hairdresser that hasn’t tried to upsell me miracle products that don’t deliver,” she reasons. “Plus, he charges a third of what they do, and I get a lollipop at the end.”
“Even when you haven’t been a good girl?” My tone is teasing, and her eyes dance when she looks up at me.
“I’m always on my best behavior where candy is involved.” Her grin is contagious, and I can’t help staring at her pretty mouth longer than I should.
Since meeting her at nine this morning, we’ve covered Betty’s favorite spots for coffee, groceries, dry cleaning, and hair. It’s a nice neighborhood and I can tell she enjoys showing it off. After our impromptu dinner last night, I couldn’t wait to see her again. Every time I’m with her, I’m overcome with happiness. It feels right when she’s around. I love looking at her too. The way she’s smiling at me right now hits me right in my chest.
“Oh!” She claps her hands in excitement. “I did get a gym recommendation from someone at work. It’s called Lynx, and it’s on Arlington.”
Huh. I give her a sideways glance. “Is this from a smart and good-looking someone at work?”
“It is indeed,” she says, reddening slightly. I nod silently and we keep walking. Considering I just learned that this guy exists yesterday, it’s amazing how much I hate him. Am I seriously jealous? I never felt jealous when guys paid attention to Eleanor, and she got way more than her fair share of male attention. But Betty mentions a passing interest in a guy she works with and I’m ready to challenge him to an arm-wrestling match. I need to get a hold of myself.
It’s a warm September morning, but I shove my hands in my pockets as we walk. Time for a change of subject. “When was the last time you were home?”
She startles like a horse who’s been in the vicinity of a gunshot. “Home as in Maine?”
“Where else would home be?” I thought it was a harmless enough question, but her reaction makes me think otherwise.
“You are well aware that I have lived in several places.” She sounds defensive suddenly. It’s true. With her parents in academia, I know she moved a few times before her family settled in Maine. But I’m pretty sure her time in Maine was the longest she had ever stayed in one place, and I just assumed she considered it home. “Four years ago, at Christmas.”
“I saw you at Mom and Dad’s. Your hair was the shortest I’d seen it,” I say, stealing a glance at her. I’d been so happy that we’d run into each other. I really hadn’t seen her since her high school graduation. I had asked her to stay and have a drink, but she said she had to help her dad pack. I got the feeling at the time that she couldn’t get away from me fast enough. “You took off before I had a chance to mention it.”
“Mr. Ramirez took off more than I’d asked for that time,” she says flippantly. “I think he must have felt bad because I walked away with not one, but two lollies.” She’s trying to lighten the mood. I stare at the uneven sidewalk we’re walking on.
“I thought it looked nice.” I shrug, still not looking at her. The mood has quickly shifted from jovial to tense, and I’m not sure how to fix it. I glance at Betty and am shocked to find her face is drawn, her lips pursed. I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head of hers, but I know I’m responsible for it. Shit. I hadn’t meant to upset her. She looks like she’s reliving some sort of trauma and my brain scrambles trying to think of the right thing to say. Should I ask her what’s wrong? Or try to change the subject again? We’re nearing an intersection and I start to slow down, but she keeps the same quick pace. I realize she’s about to walk into moving traffic.
“Jesus, Betty.” A car horn blares as I lift her around the waist and take two big steps back. She crashes into me, and we stand there gripping each other on the sidewalk. Her breaths are hard and ragged, and I hold her tighter to my chest. Her head is tucked under my chin, and I can feel her heart beating through my jacket. My heart pounds right along with hers, like a synchronized drumline.
