by Hazel Parker
Actually, if that had happened, he probably would have been repulsed by me. So yeah, maybe don’t mention the alcohol addiction on this date. Save that for the second or third date.
“So, Vance,” I said. “Now it’s my turn to ask you a question that I’ve been begging to know the answer to.”
“Fire away,” he said.
There was just one problem—I hadn’t actually had such a question. I had too many questions and trying to pick through them all was a tough challenge.
“Alyssa told me you own car repair shops—”
“Alyssa told you that?” he said, his eyes going wide.
“Yeah? Is that wrong?”
“Well, no, not really, but… what else did she tell you about me?”
I could see that he was a little mortified his daughter had told me so much about him. I finally found something I could tease him about that might make him a smidge uncomfortable—oh, this was going to be a delight to use against him later.
“Just that you’re a nice dad and a good man,” I said. “Among other things.”
“Other things?”
I just smiled and shrugged back. Truth be told, that was mostly it, but I loved the idea of Vance being on edge about what his daughter had said to me. We all had to have a little something that could make the other person squirm.
“But anyway, the thing I was going to ask. What’s it like owning a car repair shop?”
“It’s interesting,” he said, gulping as he did so. “Lots of interesting employees. People come and go in the snap of a finger. Occasionally, you get jealous competition—remember, a lot of these guys are blue collar and think in terms like vengeance and fighting and whatnot. But I do have to say, they’re very good people overall, and the ones who have been around the longest are like brothers.”
“Oh, wow, that’s lucky!” I said. “Most of the teachers we have at Green Hills are married or keep to themselves. I think the type of person who becomes a teacher is the type to keep to themselves, to stay away from going out a lot.”
“And the ones who do go out and party?”
“Well, they’re the ones who you read stories about doing something crazy,” I said.
Pick your topic, and there was bound to be a headline somewhere about a teacher doing it. Teachers, for better or for worse, were expected to be the exemplary model of good behavior and good ethics in society. It made us better people, but a lot of times, it would have been nice to be able to let loose a little.
At least, that was the case before I suddenly developed my condition.
“But that’s really cool, though. I don’t know jack shit about cars, so if this breaks down, I hope you know what to do.”
“I think I’ll have an idea,” Vance said. “But in any case, we don’t have to worry about that until at least the next ride. We’re here.”
I looked up to see what had apparently been an old staple in Green Hills, but something I had not checked out until now—Sam’s Ice Cream.
It supposedly had the best ice cream in town, but it was also apparently home to a shootout between the same rival gangs that had murdered my husband. That had occurred nearly a decade ago, and the ice cream shop had not seen violence since, but I had always avoided the shop up to this point.
“What do you think?”
“Will it be safe?”
Vance looked at me like I had asked him if the sky was green.
“I mean, unless you’re allergic to dairy or chocolate or something like that, yeah. Why?”
I decided confessing this specific detail wasn’t a huge deal.
“Wasn’t this the spot where some Saints and some, uhh, Mercenaries or something got in a shootout?”
Vance, though, waved his hand.
“That was an act of aggression by the Mercs; the Saints were just defending their founder,” he said. “The founder died in the shootout, but the Mercs are mostly dead. I’m ninety-nine percent sure nothing worse than some cold air is going to happen.”
I was surprised to hear that Vance knew so much about the two gangs, but maybe that was just good, common sense. If one lived in Green Hills or had a daughter who went to school here, one needed to be aware of what the Saints did. Admittedly, I knew less about the so-called Mercs, but if they were rivals of the Saints as Vance had said, perhaps it did make good sense for him to be aware of them too.
“I trust you,” I said. “Just… a little cautious about it is all.”
Vance gave me a look, but I wasn’t ready to tell why. Not yet—maybe if the rest of this first date went well, sure, but not right now.
“I understand,” he finally said before he got out of the car and came to my side, opening the door.
He offered me his hand, and I took it. I was stunned and a little jealous at how warm it was. I didn’t know that a hand could be so warm! I almost wanted to hold it and walk around with him in that state, but it probably would have been rather weird to Vance to see such a thing happen so quickly.
We walked inside, and Vance waved to an older man with gray hair and a gray beard behind the counter.
“Sam!” he shouted. The owner?
“Sensei, what’s good, man?” the owner said, coming from behind the counter and giving him a hug. Sensei?
“Not much Sam. This is Courtney; she’s my lovely date for the evening.”
“Oh, a date!” Sam said, the surprise in his voice evident. There’s a lot more to Vance than I think I’m even realizing. I will be curious to learn more about him as we go forward. “This is my ice cream shop. Any friend of Sensei’s is a friend of mine. Welcome, Courtney.”
“Thanks,” I said, still a little distracted by the recent development about a nickname and the surprise.
“Anything you want, it’s on me,” he said.
“Wow, really?” I said, stunned.
“Of course!” Sam said with a laugh. “Come on, let’s get you two sweetened up; whatcha want?”
Vance—or Sensei, whatever his name was—ordered two scoops of chocolate chip cookie dough, while I ordered one scoop of strawberry. True to his word, Sam let us have it without paying, and Vance and I grabbed a table outside. A few other people were there, but they all kept their distance, and thankfully, none of them looked like students of mine or even teenagers.
“I love this place,” Vance said. “I’ve known Sam now for about two decades, and he’s had this shop forever. He’s a great guy, and all my mechanics love him.”
“I would say so!” I said with a smile. “Thanks for the ice cream hookup. Although, I do have one question that I have to know the answer to.”
“Luckily for you, I probably have to give you the answer.”
I laughed at his charm and intellect. He had such a way of being able to have witty conversation that I missed because I am around fourteen-year-olds all day.
“What the hell does the nickname Sensei mean? Sorry, I don’t mean to be so blunt. I was just thrown off by it. I thought you’d given me a fake name!”
Vance laughed, pulled out his wallet, and tossed me his ID. On it most definitely read “Vance Edwards Newhouse.”
“Thankfully, Sensei is not my birth name,” he said with a smirk. “It’s kind of ridiculous, honestly. The name means like Japanese martial arts instructor who is supposedly very wise and smart. I think mostly just because I’m old, some of the guys at the shop nicknamed me that. I don’t necessarily hate it, but you don’t have to call me that. In fact, the preference is to go by Vance. You’re going to be really disappointed if you think that I’m some wise, smart man.”
I laughed at that. He was smart—he had to be given how smart Alyssa was. But I could just as easily see him referencing something even mildly intelligent, like world news or a book, and the rest of the mechanics deciding that he was like a martial arts sensei.
“Well, maybe you have a different kind of intellect,” I said. “Like a streets smart intellect.”
“That’s awfully generous of you,” he said
. “I’m just a learner from experience, that’s all.”
“Like what?”
Vance shrugged as he took a lick of his ice cream.
“A variety of things.”
I could see that he was holding back from something. There was something about him—maybe his past relationships, maybe previous work, maybe some incident in his life—that he was dancing around, not even alluding to; it was like a black hole in that it was visible only because of the fact that it was obvious something was missing there, not because he was pointing to something there.
But nevertheless, I had my secrets, obviously. I wasn’t telling him about my alcoholism. I wasn’t telling him about Nathaniel. Those were the two big ones. There were other minor things, like that I secretly wanted to do fewer musicals at my high school, but that seemed like a relatively inconsequential conversation.
Ultimately, the next hour and a half was the exact right kind of inconsequential conversations. Not too heavy, but heavy enough that I got to better understand who Vance was and where he came from. His deft, witty sense of humor, his ability to make me smile, and his good looks were more than enough to have me as excited as could be through the rest of our ice cream. We ended up chatting at the place until about ten o’clock, when Sam begrudgingly informed us that he had to kick us off the property as he closed up.
“So, what now?” Vance said. “Could go to a bar, or, wait, you said you don’t drink on a first date.”
I thought of clarifying there that I tried not to drink at all if I could help it. It would have been as good a time as any to point out that I was a recovering alcoholic and going out for a drink in any context and under any circumstance was a no go.
But I wasn’t ready to. That was too heavy of a topic and something I didn’t want to confess here.
“Right,” I said. “So…”
“I have an idea,” he said. “But it’s going to take us to a place off the beaten path. A park that would be populated by day but will be somewhat dark at night. Are you OK with that?”
“Of course,” I said.
I’d said it a bit too quickly—any smart woman probably would have said no to going to a private place like that on a first date—but I’d seen enough of Vance that I wasn’t that worried about it. Besides, all dating involved some risk; if I didn’t put myself out there, then the greatest risk was in taking no risk.
I got in his car and rode with him a little bit south of Green Hills, to a small parking lot that had nothing else, not even a security guard. Along the way, he told me about his ambitions for Alyssa and how he hoped that he could get her into whatever college she wanted, regardless of cost.
There was something I wanted to ask him about, though. Where was the mom in all of this?
But if I wasn’t going to confess my secrets, it didn’t seem right for me to expect him to confess about Alyssa’s mother, whatever her condition was.
When we got there, there was a small trail leading up the hill about a quarter of a mile. Vance offered me his hand, and this time, I took it—walking up in heels was not the smartest of ideas.
But in Vance’s hand, I felt safe. He had some thick arms and a strong body, so even when I wobbled, I felt like he could lift me and prevent anything bad from happening. I put my trust in him, and I had yet to see any reason that, at least physically, I needed to regret that.
It was all worth it, too, when we got to the top of the hill and took everything in. I could see the entirety of Green Hills from this spot, and while it wasn’t exactly like looking at Las Vegas at night, it still had its own sort of beauty. Vance put his arm around my shoulder, and I leaned into him.
“During the day, you can see the rolling hills that give this town its name,” he said. “But I didn’t think you’d want to wait twelve hours or spend that much time with me.”
I giggled and looked up at him.
“I don’t know, twelve hours with you sounds pretty good to me.”
I blushed nervously when I said that. The words had spilled out, almost like I hadn’t meant to say them. Of course, I had, but it was still a pretty bold statement all the same.
“Before we get there,” Vance said, his eyes narrowing as he turned his body to me. “Why don’t we make the next twelve seconds great?”
“What do…”
But the words fell off, and silence took hold as his hands went to my face. This is happening. It’s really… happening…
I wasn’t going to stop it. I just… I just wanted to pause this moment right here to briefly consider what was happening.
I was going to kiss this man.
I’d met a man whom I felt comfortable enough to kiss after everything I had been through and everything I was figuring out.
I’d met Vance Newhouse.
I closed my eyes as his lips pressed on mine. Our kiss was gentle and soft, and my hands grabbed his hands. He kissed just perfectly—tenderly and sweetly. He wasn’t trying to eat my face, but he also wasn’t a light pecker. He struck the perfect balance, especially as someone who seemingly wanted something real, not just a hit and run.
When I pulled back, I gazed into his eyes, barely visible in the night—but visible enough for me to see that he had had a similar emotional reaction to me of sheer joy.
“Courtney…” he said, his breath catching.
“Can we do that again?” I said with a giggle.
Vance was more than happy to oblige, and this time, I threw my arms around him as I kissed, pressing up into his body. I’d always suspected that he had a firm body, but this confirmed it for me. Vance was a handsome man and a gentleman, but damn, was he a sexy man as well. My thoughts, I had to admit, got pretty erotic at that moment.
But while I could have sex, it was similar to alcohol in that it was a line I wasn’t willing to cross on the first date. If I was going to get involved with Vance, it was going to be for more than just dick. I wanted to like him, not his body.
Though I really like his body.
“Damn, Vance,” I said as I pulled myself back before I got too hot and heavy.
“Sorry, not sorry,” he said as he pulled me back into a hug.
“You’re something else,” I said. “You’re trouble for me.”
He just laughed at that.
“Don’t you worry. I’m not looking to rush into anything. Nothing physical, nothing emotional. Obviously, we can build to it, but there’s no rush here.”
“Oh yeah?” I said, even though I was in full agreement. “How come?”
I had asked the question hoping to get him to confess or say why it was that he was seeming to hide something. Maybe it would have to do with the mom. Maybe it’d have to do with something else. But damnit, I was curious, and—
“I’ll tell you next time,” he said. “Provided, of course, you give me a next time.”
“Silly,” I said, squeezing him. “Of course there will be a next time.”
“Good,” Vance said. “In the meantime, I think I have to be getting back. Alyssa is going to wonder where her father is at some point.”
“She doesn’t know you’re here?”
Vance looked like he was going to say something before getting a grin.
“Would it be bad if she knew?”
I laughed. In most other circumstances, yes. But after what she had said earlier in the week…
“Nah, because I’m starting to think she set this whole thing up,” I said. “She blurted out to me on Monday that you were single. I think she’s wanted this to happen.”
“There’s no doubt about that,” Vance said with a chuckle. “But yeah, I do have to get back to her at some point. So… I’ll drive you home?”
“That would be great.”
Vance walked me back down the path, taking a little more care with it being downhill, before putting me in his car. On the way home, we again chatted lightly, but I just had to say how much more comfortable I was feeling on this date than I ever would have imagined. A part of me seriously be
lieved that it would fizzle out when we put our flirting under the microscope, but instead, it had only intensified our passion for each other.
When we got back to my place, Vance offered to walk me to my door, an offer I gladly accepted. I’ll admit a part of me wondered if I was going to have the strength to avoid having sex with him right there, but he stood at the base of the stairs, almost as if preventing himself from having to make such a decision.
“I had a wonderful time tonight, Vance,” I said. “Let’s do this again soon. Don’t keep me waiting.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” he said. “I can be a bit of a thinker, but once I like something, I know well enough to go for it.”
He gave me one more tender, gentle kiss under the full moon above before pulling away and wishing me a good night.
Chapter 7: Sensei
That was literally almost the perfect date.
Courtney was everything that I had hoped she would be and then some. She was warm, she was cheerful, and she was sweet. She was exactly the type of woman I needed if I was going to get out in the dating world again—an empathic, understanding woman, not a sarcastic or biting kind.
It wasn’t quite perfect. There were a couple of moments that made me wonder what sort of sustainability we had. The first was when I told her about the Savage Saints in relation to the shootout that killed Paul several years ago. The disdain in her voice that she had for the Saints—along with her comment on the phone about not wanting to be on a bike—made me wonder how she would react when she found out that I was a member of the Saints.
I supposed it was almost fortuitous timing that I was taking a step back from the Saints—I could paint it as something that I once valued but now saw the problems with as I aged. But was that telling the truth, or was that just further avoidance of the truth? The men in the Saints were still my brothers, and while it was true that they were car mechanics during the day, and while it was true that I had an ownership stake in Peters Auto Repair…
I’d pushed the truth and stretched it to its very limits. It hadn’t snapped and turned into a lie, but it was about as far as it could go before I’d start to get in trouble for how I phrased things. I had to be careful with how I answered them. It also tied into my answer about Sensei, although that had been mostly true. I just didn’t admit that it was a nickname used almost exclusively in the club, not something used outside of it.