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Nadia slowly shakes her head. “No…” she breathes out, her expression pained, like she feels sorry for me. Her features soften regretfully. She lightly plants a hand in the middle of my chest. I want to cover her hand with mine and hold her captive here in this parking lot forever. “I’m not trying to be rude, but I’m not interested, Harry.”
I look at her face, slowly reading her features through the haze of this gray early January morning. And despite the conflict and uncertainty I see there, I know she’s made up her mind.
I could keep going down this dead end, trying to persuade her.
Or I could let go.
She’s giving me a very polite ‘fuck off’ and if I keep pushing, eventually, she’ll turn hostile on me. My ego can’t take another kick to the teeth at this point.
Without another word, I step aside and pull her car door open for her.
“Thank you,” she whispers, eyes down, voice low as she slips behind the wheel.
“Drive safe, Nadia.” I gently tap the roof of her car.
“Bye, Harry.” She slowly closes the door.
Through the window, our eyes hold.She likes me. I know it.My fucking chest hurts.
She looks away and starts the engine. I stand in the middle of the parking lot, feeling like an idiot and watching her drive off.
The first night I saw her, I got a feeling I’d never gotten in my life. My heart told me she was ‘the one’. Clearly, my heart was wrong.
I have to let her go.
6
NADIA
“What the hell is that?” One of the ladies at the seniors’ group holds up her phone, a look of sheer terror on her face. “Is that one of those ugly shaved cats that everyone’s getting these days?”
The rest of the women hunch over the table where they’re playing a game of bingo, getting closer for a better look at the screen.
My granny’s best friend, Delores, huffs. “No. That’s my tit dammit.”
With a rough gasp, my grandmother clasps a hand over her husband, Edward’s eyes.
“Why are you taking pictures of your tit?” Old Mrs. Bellino asks as her boyfriend, Gordon, visibly tries to stop himself from taking a peek. She elbows him in the ribs.
“And more importantly, why are you sending your tit pics to us?!” Liam’s Yaya adds, just as horrified as everyone else.
Delores glowers at her friends. “It wasn’t meant for you ungrateful hussies. That was for George. I guess I touched the wrong thingy on the phone screen.”
My grandmother hunches over the table and squints at the device. She sets a hand on Delores’ shoulder. “Actually, there’s a spot on your tit, dear. You might want to see a doctor about that. Remember Fran and her medical scare?”
Yaya mutters under her breath. “Well, it’s probably best that George didn’t see it, then. Might have scared him off.”
I’m holding back a laugh. I’ve been doing my best to focus on the forms and paperwork I’m sorting through but, as usual, these seniors keep distracting me with their loud, uproarious banter. They’re in exceptionally rowdy form today.
In any case, Delores is offended now. She hobbles up to her feet, squaring up like she’s ready to defend her tit’s honor. “What did you say, ya little heifer?!”
I’d better get over there. I saunter over to the table with my stack of application forms in hand. “Ladies, it looks like some of you didn’t finish completing the membership paperwork.” I hover over the table. “Delores, you know I love you but if you want to be part of this group, there are forms to fill. There’s certain information I need on file about all the participants. For insurance purposes.”
The old lady frowns defiantly as she lowers back into her seat. “Fuck your forms. I’m not giving the government anything.” She sips from her coffee cup but I catch a whiff of somethingwaystronger in that mug.
My Granny rolls her eyes at her long-time best friend. “Don’t start. No one’s trying to find you. No one cares about your medical records. Or your hemorrhoids.”
I feel my chest shake with repressed laughter. “Oh my god. You women need your own reality show.”
