Destiny took everything from her car that she felt had any value and then hit the key fob several times, to assure it was locked. Then she climbed into the passenger seat of Bill’s CR-V.
“Air okay?” he asked, adjusting the temp and the vents.
Destiny nodded.
“Where to?”
Destiny gave him directions, and he keyed them into his GPS computer. Nervously, he ran his hands along the steering wheel as he pulled from the parking lot.
“So, how did your dinner date go?”
“My what?”
“Dinner with Owen,” he clarified.
“Oh, that,” she said, looking out her window.
“If you haven’t already figured it out, Owen…” he began. “Owen is, well, for lack of a better word, weird.”
“Oh really!” she exclaimed. “That’s putting it mildly,” she added under her breath.
“He’s always been that way.”
“Uh-huh? And you still hang out with him?”
“Well, I’m kinda of stuck. He is my brother.”
“Your brother?” she turned to him, surprised.
“Yeah. You didn’t know?”
“No, I didn’t know.”
Bill grimaced. “Well, I have to apologize for him a lot.”
“Really? Why? Because he’s an idiot?”
Bill laughed. “Yeah. Pretty much.”
Destiny chuckled as well.
“Hey!” Bill exclaimed suddenly, as they pulled up to a stoplight. “How about I buy you a cup of coffee?” he asked anxiously. “Like I said, my daughter is at a slumber party. And to tell you the truth, I rarely ever get a chance to steal away. You know, on my own,” Bill stumbled over his words.
Destiny looked down at her hands. “Rarely, huh?” She looked up at him.
“Rarely, as in never,” he replied. The light changed from green and back to red, and no one noticed.
Destiny hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly said, “Sure, why not?”
“Great. A crappy cup of coffee it is,” he exhaled, and then pulled into an all-night fast food restaurant parking lot on the corner.
They were the only ones in the restaurant. It was obvious the staff would have preferred to finish the evening without patrons. Suddenly they had to turn down the loud music, stop joking around and actually work. Destiny and Bill sat in silence in a booth by the window. Many minutes went by before Destiny finally spoke.
“So, you have a daughter?”
“Yeah,” he answered nervously.
“How old is she?”
“Eight.”
“Eight,” she said sadly, looking down at her cup. “My son was eight.”
“Yeah, Lisa told me,” he winced and sighed. “I can’t imagine how devastating it would be to lose a child.”
Destiny didn’t look up. Couldn’t look up.
“I’m so, so sorry,” he offered, reaching over and taking her hand.
Destiny slowly slid her hand from the table. “Look, can we talk about something else?”
“We could talk about my brother, the idiot,” Bill offered with a smile.
Destiny chuckled. “You know, I really wanted to put him in his place.” She shook her head. “But I really felt like…”
“It wouldn’t do any good,” they said in unison. Then they both laughed.
Bill tilted his head. “It wouldn’t.” He lowered his voice, as though they could be overheard by the other guests that weren’t there. “That being said, he’s not a bad guy, all in all. It’s just that he dances to the tune of a different drummer,” he recited.
“If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.”
“Henry David Thoreau,” they said again, together. Destiny leaned forward, her defenses dissolving, feeling more comfortable as they spoke.
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “My parents told me that once when I told them… well…” he stammered again. “When I told them I thought he was an idiot.”
“You told your parents that?”
“Many times,” he said emphatically. “Many, many, times.” He toyed with his coffee cup and sighed. “But, he was their son,” Bill shrugged. “What would I do if someone told me that about my child?”
Destiny pursed her lips, then looked down, suddenly ashamed. “Yeah,” was all she could say, understanding how it must feel to hear that about your own flesh and blood. “Yeah.”
They sat silently across from each other, quietly pensive. Slowly his hand slid across the table to hers, lightly touching her fingers, teasingly; first two fingers, and then three, then more. When she didn’t move her hand away, his hand finally rested on hers. Neither of them looked up as their coffee cooled before them.
After a minute, maybe more, Bill slid his other hand to hers and took her hand tentatively in his. His hands were firm but gentle, his fingers tracing hers, carefully exploring every curve, every crease in her hand. Her skin was delicate and soft; her nails rounded and shiny, and it felt good. At first, she didn’t appear to mind, in fact, she seemed to relax in his grip. Bill looked up, opening his mouth as though he wanted to say something, wanted to ask her something. But then he stopped. Her hand still rested in his, the other still exploring, testing her boundaries as it gently brushed her wrist. It had been years since he’d held a woman’s hand. Slowly, they embraced hers fully, encompassing it, warming it.
Destiny felt her heart racing. How could something so casual feel so sensual, so intimate? What was she thinking? Who was this man? She didn’t know him. They’d hardly spoken. And yet, being here with him felt… right. Nice. Destiny didn’t dare look up for fear he’d let go. It had been so long since anyone had held her hand in this way. Years, in fact. Phillip was the love of her life, and yet, she couldn’t even remember the last time he had made her feel this way, just by holding her hand. Slowly Destiny closed her eyes. Bill’s hand traveled past her wrist, and she suddenly became self-conscious of what he would find. Immediately she pulled her hand from his, and it retreated into her lap.
The manager on duty tapped on their table, breaking the trance. They both looked up at once. The young man that wreaked of stale cooking oil and burgers asked them flatly if they wanted anything else. They looked at each other and then back to the manager and shook their heads. “Great,” he responded, before turning and signaling with a circular motion of his finger for his crew to wrap it up. They heard whoops and claps in the kitchen. Destiny and Bill turned back to each other and smiled before bashfully looking away again.
Bill stood and held out his hand for her to take, guiding her through the door, his hand at the curve of her back, as he held it open for her. When he touched her, she didn’t tense up, as she did when Winston touched her, or even Owen. Destiny felt herself relax and smile. Actually smile. Bill opened the car door for her, and then closed it after she climbed in. They sat, quietly, after he started his car, then he turned to her, and she to him. Their eyes met, speaking volumes through the silence. His hand sat limply on the gear shift. Destiny slowly moved her hand to his and gently rested it on top, her fingers lightly brushing over his as the music played softly all around them. Bill smiled sadly, and looked away. Then they drove to her loft in silence.
Bill swallowed nervously, as he opened the passenger door. Then he held out his hand once more. Destiny looked up into his eyes, her demeanor softening as she set her hand on his. It was as though, at that very moment, she trusted him. His fingers refused to let hers go as he walked her to her apartment. Their pace slowed, as they neared the point at which he would say goodbye. It was the first time in a lifetime of goodbyes that he didn’t want to speak the words. They arrived on the welcome mat at her front door stoop. He didn’t release her hand, nor did she pull hers away. He leaned against the door, studying every inch of her face. For many moments, she didn’t look up at him.
And then she did.
Destiny felt her heart begin to race as her eyes met his once again. How did she get here? How did this man, this stranger reach into the very depth of her heart when she had so determined to close it off completely after Phillip’s death? They had hardly spoken all night, and yet she felt she had known him all his life. His hand still held hers as he leaned against the door nervously.
“Why is it I don’t want to leave you?”
“Why is it I don’t want you to leave?”
“I have to see you again.”
“Have to?” she chuckled.
“Yes,” Bill replied emphatically. “Have to.” He took a step closer to her.
Destiny nodded as she looked up. She slid her hand from his and moved it to his face. “So, are you going to tell me what happened?” Her hand traced the bruising carefully.
Bill crossed his legs and his arms and exhaled. “Oh.” He cringed. “Is it still that obvious?”
Destiny laughed. “You’re all black and blue.” Her hand brushed his cheek. “Does it hurt? I mean it looks like it should hurt.”
“Naw. It doesn’t hurt,” he sighed, then bit his lip. “Do you ever have one of those days when nothing goes right? Kind of like when things are going bad, and they just start to snowball and then it goes downhill from there?”
Destiny nodded.
Bill wriggled his lips. “Well, this,” he made a circular motion around his face with his finger, “was one of those days wrapped up in five minutes.”
Destiny smiled, cupping his face with her hands. She leaned up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Maybe one day,” she whispered against it before kissing the other. “Maybe one day you’ll tell me your secrets.”
Bill suddenly took her face in his hands. “And maybe one day, you’ll tell me all of yours.” Slowly he leaned in and kissed her ever so gently on her lips.
Destiny closed her eyes and accepted the kiss. It was warm and sweet. And when he pulled back she opened her eyes and gasped. Then she smiled up at him weakly, their eyes locked on one another’s.
“What about your car?”
“I’ll call them first thing in the morning,” she whispered, still reeling from his kiss. “My brother will take me to it. We usually have breakfast on Saturdays.”
“I don’t mind,” he said. “In fact, I was hoping...” he began, drawing in a deep breath, “it would give me an excuse to see you again, sooner.”
“I texted him earlier from the car. I didn’t want to bother you. But that was before—”
“Before what?” he asked, his fingers gently brushing her cheeks. Destiny looked down, but he tilted her head back up. “Before what?”
She closed her eyes, feeling his breath caressing her lips; welcoming it, wanting it. Slowly his hot breath was against her cheek, kissing it, tracing it to her ear. She felt dizzy. Destiny opened her eyes, looking up into the wood beams. “Before this,” she added in a breath.
He stepped away from her, waiting for her to open her door. When she stepped inside, he leaned against the door jamb, just staring at her.
“What?”
“I was just wondering if I should ask you out.”
Destiny narrowed her eyes. “You were, were you?” She looked away cryptically. “You don’t even have my phone number. How were you planning on asking me out?”
Bill slid the phone from his pocket and keyed in his password. Her hand moved to his, taking his phone, her fingers lightly brushing his palm. Electricity instantly coursed through his body at her slightest touch. A few strokes later she handed the phone back to him. Bill looked at her suspiciously and pressed dial. Destiny’s phone rang, and she grinned. When he continued to hold his phone up to his ear, she opened her purse and removed her phone, looking at it.
“Hmmm,” she looked at him mischievously. “I usually don’t answer strange phone numbers.”
Bill looked skyward, patiently, as her phone continued to ring.
Destiny narrowed her eyes and then answered the phone, without saying anything.
Bill held up his finger to excuse himself and stepped away from the doorway, his back to her, as though he was secretive about his phone call.
“Hello?” he cooed.
Destiny decided to play along. “Hello.”
“Yes, I was just checking that this was a good number.”
“Uh, huh,” Destiny murmured.
“You see, there’s this amazing woman I met and I was so afraid that when she gave me her number, that maybe she really didn’t. You know? Kind of bait and switch.”
“Nope. Real number.”
“Good. Thank you.” Then he hung up.
Destiny took her phone from her ear, then looked at it, perplexed.
“Well, Goodnight,” Bill smiled sweetly and nodded cordially. Then he turned and reluctantly walked away, his smile growing with every step.
“Is that it?” Destiny called to his back.
Bill turned instantly and walked back to her, taking her face in his hands anxiously. “God, I hope not,” he gasped before kissing her again.
Though his breath was hot and rushed, he showed restraint. His kiss was so sweet, and yet, more than that; it was remarkably… sensual.
Destiny felt weak in his arms, holding the door for support when they parted.
He breathed in a deep breath then slowly exhaled. “Would you go out with me?”
Destiny couldn’t speak; her eyes transfixed on his. So she nodded.
“Next Saturday?”
Destiny nodded again.
“Seven o’clock?”
She felt mesmerized as she nodded again.
“I’ll pick you up?”
Another nod.
“You’re an extremely difficult woman, aren’t you?”
Destiny bobbed her head from side to side and wrinkled her nose. A small smile grew on her lips, and she nodded once more.
“Good,” he said, leaning over, kissing her again. Softly. “I love a good challenge,” he whispered against her lips. Then he gently lowered her head and pressed his lips to her forehead, holding them there for many moments. Bill stepped away, backward, his eyes never leaving hers. “Goodnight,” he sighed. A moment later he was gone from her sight.
Destiny furrowed her brow and smiled to herself. “Goodnight,” she replied, under her breath. As she continued to peer through the parted doorway, her heart pounded in her chest. But more than that, her heart smiled again.
And for the first time in a long time; actually, for the first time in a very long time, Phillip wasn’t the last person on her mind when she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 18
Sometimes the memories came in small discernible pieces—fragmented; snippets of time, forever frozen snapshots in her mind. Sometimes they came like full visions; visions that felt so real she could touch them. Sometimes they came in dreams. Sweet dreams of holding her son, cradling him in her arms, rocking him. She could hear his soft cooing. She could feel him grasping her finger. Dreams so clear that she was there; they were still together. A family. Dreams she never wanted to wake from, dreams she desperately never wanted to forget.
Then there were the nightmares. The accident. Glass shattering. Her son was crying. Her Rhett crying, “Mommy! Mommy!” Oh, the blood! Phillip’s blood, her own blood mixing with his as rain pelted her cheeks. The door that wouldn’t open. The screaming of the saw so close to her face that it was deafening. The sparks flying around her like fireworks as the blade cut through metal.
Destiny sat up with a start, gasping for breath. Her heart was racing, her sheets wet with perspiration. She clutched them to her chest, dropped her head into her hands and sobbed. It had been months since she’d had a nightmare, one so vivid that she woke feeling as though it had all just happened again. As she closed her eyes and wiped away the tears, her arms ached to hold her husband and her young son. Not a day went by that she didn’t think of them.
Destiny rolled onto her side, curled into a ball staring ahe
ad at the bare wall. There were no pictures framed around her home. Those were kept in albums, in a cabinet. Hidden. The memories were too painful, and she didn’t want or need daily reminders of who was no longer there.
Slowly she reached for her prescription bottle, shakily removing a tablet and washing it down with the water at her bedside. Destiny hated taking any medication, but these helped balance her. Depression no longer consumed her every day. They gave her the will to get out of bed, the will to go to work. The will to live. She drew in a deep breath and lazily crawled out of bed.
An hour and a shower later, she felt somewhat better. Triple-A was sending someone to meet them within the hour. Andy was on his way to pick her up. He agreed, on one condition—a condition he hadn’t mentioned the night before. She had to buy him breakfast.
Andy and Destiny arrived at the same time the mechanic did. The large man with a handlebar mustache readily threw out several suggestions of what the issue could be, all of them expensive to repair. As long as it was a warranty issue, and she didn’t have to pay for it, it wouldn’t be a problem. In the end, the car had to be towed. Andy consoled her by telling her he’d buy breakfast instead.
“So, why can’t you retire, again?” Andy asked, before opening his mouth wide and stuffing it with the giant burrito.
“For the millionth time, I want to work. I need to work.” She sliced her burrito into rounds, then each round into quarters, unable to open her mouth wide enough to eat even the small burrito that she had ordered. Then she proceeded to sprinkle a little of the homemade hot sauce onto each quarter.
Andy chuckled at her. “You’re so OCD,” he teased, watching her repeat the same routine she had practiced inexplicably since childhood, even cutting her hamburgers into quarters.
Destiny glared up at him as she forked the first piece and put it into her mouth.
Andy shook his head, a sly smile on his lips. “I’m going to marry an OCD woman,” he informed her. “That way I know that my house will always be clean, and organized and in perfect order.”
“And you’ll torture her daily like you tortured me?” she retorted, before taking another bite.
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