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“It’s hot out,” she says, rewarding my rudeness by making an excuse. “I have juice, bottled water, and canned soda.”
I don’t reply, leaving Xenia to linger at the doorway between the shop and her back kitchen. Her gray eyes watch me. She doesn’t seem impatient or annoyed. The longer she looks at me, the brighter her expression gets.
“Just water,” I finally say, fatigue hitting me out of nowhere.
I drop into a spot at one of the tables. My build seems too big for this space. The shop is snug like her house. I don’t fit right into this woman’s world. Yet, I can’t deny her gaze on me feels comfortable.
Xenia brings me a bottled water. She doesn’t back away from the table right away.
“Thank you for telling people about the shop,” she says, lingering within reach as if tempting me to touch her.
“I’m a good friend to have,” I mumble as I stare at the water and ask myself what I want to happen next.
“I got an order for cupcakes for a baby shower,” Xenia says, watching me in an unguarded way. “Was that your doing?”
“I heard my friends’ ladies talking and figured you could use the business.”
“It was so unexpected.”
“Well, I feel bad to see you struggling out here on Howling Prairie Road,” I say and drag my tired body from the chair.
Expression shifting immediately, Xenia looks disappointed to see me leaving.
I consider giving in to her silent request. My thoughts return to her on that date. Xenia’s looking for something to fix her life. I recall the expression she wore the first time I saw her. Never have I seen someone look so defeated.
Xenia craves a man, on account of her being in a desperate state of mind. Down the road, life’s bound to look up for her. When that time comes, she won’t be satisfied talking to me anymore.
I slap a twenty on the table and take my bottled water. Xenia opens her mouth to say something. I don’t think she wants me to pay or maybe she’s just considering whether to ask me to stay.
“I’ve been thinking about your situation,” I say as I reach the door. “This shop is real comfy. I can imagine people wanting to spend time here. The location is just no good. I’ll see what I can do about that.”
“Wait,” she insists as I reach for the door. “I was wondering if anyone calls you Tommy?”
“Mostly just people I don’t want talking to me. Everyone else calls me by my road name.”
Xenia frowns, seeming bothered. “That name doesn’t suit you.”
Just like that, I see a future where I’m not enough. Xenia isn’t a wild woman, and I’m not a man willing to give up his roaming nature.
“Well, it’s the name I chose, and it’s what my friends call me,” I say and step outside.
I can feel Xenia’s hurt feelings, even without looking back at her. As the door shuts, I realize I ought to let her suffer. If she accepts how I’m not her savior, we can get along easier. Whenever she looks at me with too much warmth, I get the urge to lie to myself.
Except letting her suffer won’t sit right with me. I’ll be kicking myself about it all day and night until I see her again. That’s why before the door shuts, I call back to say how I’ll be around again soon to get a sandwich.
I glance over my shoulder to find Xenia still wearing a downfallen expression. Maybe sadness is the feeling she’s most comfortable revealing to the world. Like, how Eagle always looks in a bad mood, even when he’s just chilling with his woman and baby girl. We all get into our habits. I shouldn’t take her sadness personally.
Even so, I spend the rest of the damn day wishing I’d stuck around longer and asked her those questions I’ve got rattling around in my head.
