No. She’d taken the bus from Patty’s because there was literally no place to park her car within a reasonable distance of the market. Before the fire had displaced her, it had been perfect because she walked.
I took the bus.
I’ll pick you up. Text me when you’re out the door.
Sounds great.
She texted the street address for the market and turned her attention back to the mop bucket.
“You have a young man?” Mrs. Belostotsky asked from behind her, and she almost slopped water everywhere as she turned. “I saw you texting and only one thing puts a smile like that on a woman’s face.”
“He’s...” She sighed, and then smiled. “It’s complicated, but he’s kind of my young man. Maybe. But he’s going to take me to dinner tonight.”
“I can wash the floors if you want to leave early.”
“Thank you, but he’s going to be pick me up out front. After I finish cleaning up.”
She would have preferred to go home and change first. Not that she needed to dress up, even if she had the wardrobe for it, but a quick shower or at least the chance to brush her teeth would be nice. But seeing Grant would be nicer.
As instructed, she sent him a text message when she was ready to walk out the door and not even a minute later, he pulled up out front. She was ready and climbed into the passenger seat when he came to a stop, much to the annoyance of the disgruntled driver behind him.
“Hi,” he said as he accelerated again. “Sorry about the rush.”
“No problem,” she said, buckling her seat belt. “Parking’s a horror show around here.”
It felt surreal, Grant picking her up from work. Being in his Jeep. The way he smiled at her and the sound of his voice. It was too easy to imagine the nightmare of the last five months hadn’t happened.
But it had, which was why he didn’t reach across and take her hand or rest his on her thigh like he used to do.
“You in the mood for anything in particular?” he asked.
“Whatever has parking available,” she said, and he laughed.
He navigated through the city, taking random side streets, until she was good and lost. Not that it was hard to do. It would take years before she felt confident finding her way around Boston, if ever. People joked about the original city planners being drunk, but she was pretty sure there hadn’t been any planning at all.
“This place has good calzones,” he said, pulling the Jeep into a parking space. “Or I can find someplace better if you want.”
“A calzone sounds great. And I just got out of work, so I’d rather not go someplace fancy, if you know what I mean.”
He looked at her as if he didn’t, in fact, know what she meant. “You look perfect.”
Rather than point out she had a coffee stain on her shirt and her hair needed more than the small brush in her purse, she accepted the compliment with a smile. “Thank you.”
He got out and walked around the Jeep to open her door. “The sidewalk’s a little slick, so be careful.”
She took his hand as she stepped out and felt the muscles in his arm stiffen as he supported her. Once she was safely on the sidewalk, he closed the door and hit the fob button to lock it.
It was the kind of hole-in-the-wall place only locals knew about, but there was still a decent crowd. Grant led her to a table near the window and the server dropped two menus on it as she walked by.
“The service isn’t quite as good as the food,” he said as they sat down. “But the calzones are worth it. Fair warning, they’re also huge.”
After looking over the menu, they decided to split a buffalo chicken calzone and an order of fries, and they each ordered a soda.
“Thanks for agreeing to have dinner with me,” he said.
“Thank you for inviting me.”
“I guess you got home okay last night?”
