“No. I need to lean, really. Maybe one of those taller chairs by the bar will work.”
They worked their way through the crowd. He couldn’t help but closely monitor how she moved her feet, seeing the limp clearly now, searching her face for signs of pain. Thankfully, he found her an empty seat at the bar and watched as she arranged her legs so her right leg hung down, stopping a few inches off the floor. She fanned at her face with her hand.
“That was so nice. I needed that so much.”
He put a hand on the back of her chair. “Good. Can’t help but like dates that use phrases like, ‘that was so nice.’ It means I’m doing something right.”
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.
Brad immediately said, “Club soda with lime.” He looked at Valerie, who pursed her lips.
“The same, but I want lemon and lime.” She smiled up at him. “I worked up a thirst.”
“Me, too.” He watched as Sami approached. She wore a sleeveless white shirt tucked into a purple skirt with big white polka dots on it and a red belt. She’d curled and pinned her purple hair so one giant curl bounced on the front of her head and a red bow secured the bun to the back of her head.
“Nice moves, Mr. Dixon,” she said, smiling with shiny red lips. “I approve.”
His laughter barked out of him. “I’m sure you do.”
She leaned toward Valerie. “Did you see Calla yet? Isn’t she awesome?”
“Very much so. Yes, I saw her. When we first started eating.” Valerie looked around, gesturing with her hand. “I’m overwhelmed at this.”
“Me, too, and I knew what was coming!” She looked up at Brad and pointed to her hair. “No panicking. It’s just temporary for tonight.”
With raised eyebrows, he said, “I never said a word.” The bartender slid their drinks to him and looked at Sami.
She held a finger up to him, and he nodded but did not speak to her. Seconds later, he slid a tall glass filled with a bubbling amber drink. “You wouldn’t. Doesn’t mean you’re not thinking it.” She took a sip from the straw then waved. “See you two later.”
Valerie frowned. “I hope she has a ride home.”
Brad shook his head. “That was ginger ale. She hasn’t had a drink in six years.” He drank about half his club soda in three swallows. After setting his drink down, he asked, “How’s the hip?”
“Not as bad as I feared.” She took a small sip of her drink. “This was fun. Thank you for inviting me.”
“Thank you for coming with me.” Despite what she said, she absently rubbed her hip. Even though he’d rather not see an end to their evening, he leaned down and asked, “Ready to go?”
“I think so.” She gingerly slid off the stool and took a long pull from her glass. He tossed a folded bill into the bartender’s tip jar and put a hand on the small of Valerie’s back. He let her set the pace as they worked their way through the restaurant, stopping several times to speak to people they knew from work. Across the room, he saw Ken, so he lifted his hand to tell him goodbye, and they stepped out into the cool evening.
As they waited for his car, Valerie lifted her face to the sky and took a deep breath through her nose. “I smell wisteria,” she said, eyes closed. “Oh, that makes me think of your mama’s garden shed.” She opened her eyes again and looked up at him, a soft smile warming her eyes. “Does she still have it, with all that wisteria covering the sides? It looked like a fairy’s house.”
He laughed and stepped forward as his car pulled up. “She does, though she’s tried to tame the vine a few times. It always takes over from her.” As he opened the door, she slid inside. He handed the valet a tip and walked around to the driver’s side.
The sun had not yet set but lit up the western sky with vivid streaks of bright reds and oranges. Brad headed in the direction of Valerie’s house.
They chatted easily on the ride there. The topic went from wisteria-covered garden sheds to antics of summertime in the pool. Valerie laughed, smiled, snorted, and gasped as she remembered their childhood.
Too soon, he pulled into her driveway. He turned the car off before he got out and opened her door. He offered his hand to help her rise out of the car. Keeping her hand in his, he walked her to the front door, then slowly released her and slipped his hands into his pockets.
“Thanks for being my date tonight.”
He watched as she checked the door before she used the key to unlock the deadbolt. “It was fun.” She let the door swing open and gestured inside. “Want some tea?”
With a small smile, he said, “You talked me into it.”
He followed her inside, stepping into the living room. He noticed she set her purse on the table but kept her keys and phone in her hand. He slowly followed her, watching as she tensed, her face becoming drawn. She started to set her keys on the table next to her purse but fisted them in her hand and raised the fist to her forehead, closing her eyes. “I thought with you here I could….” Again, she trailed off, not completing the sentence.
“Could what?”
