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My eyes stung. I glanced toward her window with a view of a big oak tree turning gold and orange. “I’m afraid of making the wrong choice. Again.”
“That’s good. A little fear keeps us on our feet.”
On Thursday, Charley and I went for a long walk around downtown then met Amber for lunch. We sat at little café tables outside, a brisk wind blowing leaves around our feet.
“I like the dog clothing,” Amber said, crouching to pet Charley. “He’s working the buffalo plaid jacket.”
“He has his own closet,” I said. “I’m trying to train him to pick up his toys.”
“Is it working?”
“So far, it’s a fun game where he can’t wait to drag them all out again. How are you?”
She grinned at me. “Excited. I have a date tomorrow.”
The server stopped by then and took our drink orders. “Tell me more,” I said as Amber opened her menu.
“We’ve been messaging a lot. He’s funny and flirty—and I just have a really good feeling about it. Ugh. I’m getting my hopes up too high, aren’t I?”
I leaned back and crossed my legs. “I don’t know. It sounds good.”
“I mean, maybe at least a second date, right?”
“Yeah. I’m betting on a base hit.”
“Right. Don’t expect a home run but aim higher than a strike.”
“What does he look like?” I asked.
“White bread American. Kind of sandy everything. I don’t know—I’m dying to see him in person. The picture didn’t really connect with me, and it was pretty vague.”
“What about video chat?”
She tapped her fingers on the table. “Yeah, it’s a good idea.Especially with all the catfishing you hear about. He suggested a drink though, and after two days of flirting with him on the app, I felt ready. And we’re both local.”
“Makes sense to me. In person is the only way to really tell after all.”
“Yes. And it seems less awkward—until you’re actually there doing it. Crap, now I’m getting nerves.”
“Just remember the mantra.”
“I’m hot shit.”
“You’re hot shit.”
“But not like a fresh steaming pile of cow poop.”
“Amber. You just ruined it.”
“I’m hot stuff.”
“Okay, fine. You’re hot freakin’ stuff.” I took a sip of my iced tea. “If it’s another strike, let’s do a road trip. Oregon coast this time. I want to go see all those miles of public beaches.”
“Now I want a strike.” She opened up her folded napkin. “Hank sure stuck around last weekend, after the attack. You guys get a chance to talk?”
I leaned over and poured more water in Charley’s dish. “He texted me that he’s thinking about moving here.”
“Wow.”
