Page 23 of Not My Problem

“You’ll love working with Rochelle,” Gretchen assured me. “She has a lot of experience working with people who are new to the field of social work.”

I must have looked surprised because Rochelle explained, “We try to hire people who reflect the communities we serve, so many times our staff doesn’t have a formal education, or English is their second language, or they don’t know computers. I try to adapt my instructions to whatever their individual needs are.”

“That’s great.” I was feeling better about this already.

“I hear you’re in town visiting your grandmother,” Rochelle said.

I glanced at Gretchen again before answering. Had she been talking about me? Interesting.

“Yes, I was planning to surprise her, but the real surprise was that she was on a one month cruise,” I laughed. “Fortunately, Gretchen has been a great host while I’m in town.”

Rochelle’s expression turned speculative. “Yes I heard you’re staying at Gretchen’s house and cooking dinner for her and stuff.”

“It’s the least I can do for her giving me a place to stay. Plus it gives me a chance to practice my cooking.”

“Hmm.”

I could tell by the expression on Rochelle’s face that she thought there was more going on with me and Gretchen than cooking. I wasn’t going to disabuse her of that assumption. We hadn’t touched each other since that night we’d kissed in the kitchen, but we’d had a few near misses. We were like one of those Victorian love stories, sharing long, lingering looks, and going silent every time we accidentally touched each other.

Something had to give soon though. Whenever we spent time together it was all I could do not to find the nearest flat surface and lay Gretchen out on it while I made her come with my tongue. Or my fingers, I could go either way. I just needed her to catch up with me and accept that we were meant to be together.

I stiffened as those words crossed my brain. Meant to be together? What? Holy shit, I was in love with Gretchen. I watched her as she spoke with her friend and realized it was true. It seemed too fast, but I felt what I felt. And even though I’d never been in love before, I knew at the core of my being that it was true. I just didn’t know what to do about it.

The next few hours passed quickly. Gretchen introduced me to about twenty people, explaining that since she mostly worked with the leadership team and her finance staff she wasn’t familiar with the program staff. We sat at a long picnic table with some of her coworkers enjoying burgers, chips, and a variety of salads, then participated in a few games. The party was still in full swing when Gretchen pulled me aside just after four o’clock.

“Are you okay if we leave now?” she asked quietly.

“I thought you were having fun?”

“I was, I mean I am, but I’m an introvert and I’m reaching my peopling limit.”

My eyes widened in comprehension. “Oh of course, let’s hit the road.”

It took us ten minutes to say our goodbyes. As we left the parking lot Gretchen released a very long sigh and visibly relaxed. I’d been enjoying the picnic so much I hadn’t noticed how tense she was getting.

“What do you need now?” I asked.

“Ice cream and quiet time to recharge.”

“You’ve got it.”

We made a quick stop at a drive through Dairy Queen not too far from Gretchen’s house, then headed out onto the back deck to enjoy our frosty treats.

“Thanks for bringing me,” I said, licking some ice cream off my thumb.

When I glanced over, Gretchen was staring at my lips. Without intending to, I licked them.

“Glad you had fun,” she answered in a distracted voice.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were getting overwhelmed. I don’t mind a crowd, hell the entire city of Chicago is one big crowd, so I didn’t even think about it.”

“It’s all good. Most of my work is solitary or one on one, me and my spreadsheets, nice and quiet. I have to psych myself up a bit for something like that where this is a lot of noise and people socializing,” she explained. “There’s always one point where I feel myself start to crash, like my reserve supplies of energy are dangerously low, and then I know it’s time for me to at least take a break.”

“Well next time we’ll have a secret code so I can help you escape.”

“Oh is there going to be a next time?” she teased.

“I hope so.”