by Mary Frame
A few hours later, Sam drops me off in front of the duplex. I give him a quick and clumsy hug before getting out of his large pickup and jumping to the ground.
Halfway up the steps, I notice Jensen standing on the porch just outside his door. He’s not alone. An older man is with him, dressed in perfectly fitted slacks and a leather jacket over what appears to be a three-piece suit. He’s got lighter hair than Jensen, but the same dark green eyes.
“Hello,” I say as I near the top of the steps. They’re both staring at me.
“You must be Jensen’s neighbor,” the man says. “I’m Professor Walker, Jensen’s father.”
He walks towards me and we meet at the top of the steps. He approaches with a practiced smile and his hand out.
I shake his hand firmly. “Lucy London.”
“Ah, yes!” He looks back at Jensen. “You didn’t tell me you were living next to our resident genius.”
Jensen says nothing. His expression is very serious, and I notice he hasn’t shaved and his cheeks are covered in stubble.
“Well, it was nice to finally meet you Lucy.” He smiles at me but the smile fades when he turns back to his son. “Jensen, we’ll talk soon.” And then he’s past me and down the steps and gone.
“Are you okay?” I ask Jensen.
His eyes are on me with a sort of focused intensity that makes my insides flutter.
“Yeah.”
It doesn’t seem that he’s going to add anything, so I head towards my door.
“Where were you this morning?” he calls to my retreating back.
I face him. “I went shooting with my brother.”
“Was that your brother that just dropped you off?”
“Yes.”
Something in his stance relaxes.
“I was thinking.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and takes three steps in my direction. “Our interviewing sessions might be more productive if we were more comfortable around each other. If we knew each other a little better. We should…be friends.”
I nod. “That makes sense.” We’ve really only been around each other a handful of times. “I need friends,” I admit.
“There’s an exhibition of new artists at this gallery downtown on Saturday night. I have two tickets.”
He doesn’t say anything else and I stare at him for a few seconds. “Are you inviting me to go with you?” I finally ask.
He half smiles. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Okay.”
The smile grows. “Okay. I’ll pick you up at six.”
“Okay,” I return his smile and then turn and unlock my door. When I get inside, I’m still smiling.
Chapter Eleven
Life doesn’t make any sense without interdependence. We need each other, and the sooner we learn that, the better for us all.
–Erik Erikson