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“It was a mistake.” Wow, I thought for sure she would fight me on it. “I thought I sent it to Eddie.”
“Well, I must say”—I laugh—“totally thought you would bullshit me.”
“There is no reason to bullshit you, Christopher. There is also no reason for me to answer your phone calls or your texts.”
“And why is that?” I know I should tread lightly, but this is also three months of building for both of us.
“Because you were calling to see how we are. We are fine.” She doesn’t even give me a chance to say anything before she continues, “You were also texting to ask me, and again, we are fine. If Benji was alive, you wouldn’t be calling me.”
“True but?—”
“There is no but, Christopher, it would be awkward, and I didn’t want to. That should be enough.”
“I guess it will have to be for now,” I say before the server comes over to interrupt us. I look down and order a burger while she orders the fish and chips with a side of onion rings and mac and cheese.
When the server leaves, I look back at her. “Rain wants to go skating more.” She looks at me, grabbing the glass of water in front of her. “Can I take her?”
“Christopher,” she says my name, putting the glass of water down.
“If you are going to hand me the ‘you don’t need to’ bullshit, I’m going to start getting really pissed,” I snap, and her eyes go big. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.” I look down, and my leg shakes under the table. I was supposed to come in calm and cool and show her all I want to do is help, but instead, I just snapped at her.
“See?” She points at me. “This right there, the feeling sorry for me, is why I didn’t answer your phone calls.”
“Feeling sorry for you?” I repeat the words, not sure if she actually said them. Maybe I misunderstood.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you,” I tell her. “I feel a lot of things about the situation, but I don’t feel sorry for you.” She opens her mouth and then closes it. “I’m just doing what I hope someone would do for me if the roles were reversed.” I move back when the drinks come and she just looks down and then up again.
“You can take her skating,” she murmurs.
“Thank you,” I say as the food comes. “I can even take Luna.”
“Are you sure that won’t be too much?” she asks as she takes a french fry and dunks it into ketchup.
“I think I’ll be okay,” I finally reply. “You can come if you want, or stay home and relax. Read a book, watch TV.” She laughs again. “How was back to school for the kids?” I try to leave the conversation on neutral ground.
“The kids were happy to be back with their friends,” she shares, telling me stories that happened to the girls during the week. The conversation is light and not forced. It feels weird to be sitting alone with her in a bar, the two of us, but I guess this is our new normal.
I pay the bill when she gets up to wash her hands, and when we walk out, I have to admit it’s been a great night.
“So what are you going to do the rest of the night?” I ask when we get to the cars, not sure I want to call it a night yet.
“Not sure.” She shrugs. “It’s been a while since I’ve been home by myself.”
“Are you going to walk around naked?” The minute I say the words, I want the earth to open and for me to be swallowed whole. Her eyes almost bug out of her head. “Oh no, not like that. I was thinking of the episode of Friends. When Rachel is home by herself and…” I put my hands on my face, feeling it turning beet red. “Oh my God, I am not thinking of you naked.”
“Geez,” she says, “thanks, I guess.”
My heart sinks. “No, it’s not that,” I groan. “Tonight was nice.” I avoid looking at her because she’s probably thinking I’m a fucking creep who is picturing her dancing around her house naked. For the record, I wasn’t, but now I can’t help the flash of her naked in my head. “We should do it again.”
“We’ll see.” She turns to walk to her SUV. “Have a good night.” She opens her door. “I’m going to try not to walk around my house naked.” I put my head back and groan, and I stop when I hear her giggle. “Night, Christopher.”
“Night, Koda.” I get into my truck and wait for her to leave before following her. We live about six streets apart. Actually, most of the team lives around the same area, except when she turns right, I turn left, heading to my house. I’m pulling up into the driveway when my phone rings in my pocket, pulling it out I see a number that isn’t stored.
“Hello.” I put the phone to my ear.
“Hi, Christopher,” the female voice greets. “This is Keely, we met at the restaurant the other night.”
