“Him?” she mouthed. I shook my head.
Heston wasn’t exactly an ex-boyfriend. He and I had been on four dates. For coffee. To a baseball game. To a movie. And to dinner. And while social convention would suggest that after three dates, a couple would – or at least could without outside judgment - engage in sex, we hadn’t. The furthest Heston got with me was a good night kiss after our fourth – and last – date.
“So, what’s the topic of the day?” Gayle and I exchanged glances and she covered her mouth with her hand, attempting to hide her laughter. A red light and a beeping came from the control panel behind the desk indicating a patient in need and Gayle quickly makes her escape.
“Sorry,” she said, standing from the chair. “Duty calls.”
Heston watched until Gayle disappeared around the corner. "Good,” he said. “I was hoping to get you alone for a minute.” He gently placed his hand on my forearm. “Are you busy next weekend?” His thumb slowly moved back and forth over my skin.
“Heston I –” I held still, not wanting to pull away and make a scene, but not entirely comfortable with the way Heston was touching me either. Why is he doing this? Did I lead him on? I know I told him I just wanted us to be friends.
“I’m only asking because a friend of mine from college is having a weekend gathering at his beach house.” Heston seemed nervous. He kept shifting his feet, looking down at his hand on my arm, and then back up at me. “He’s even having a clambake. He does it every few years and it is always a great time. I think you’d – we’d – have a great time.”
“Heston, it’s not –” Fuck! Maybe I did lead him on. Maybe I hadn’t told him I didn’t want to go out with him anymore. Maybe I wasn’t clear enough.
“I know you said you wanted to go slow, and just be friends,” he moved closer, his body nearly pressed against mine. “And I’m not asking you to spend the weekend with me, per say, as we can get separate rooms, or I can stay with him at his beach house and I can get you a room at a hotel that’s nearby. Or you can stay at the beach house, whichever you’re more comfortable with. Heston slowly slid his arm closer to mine.”
He was rambling. How was I going to interrupt and tell him I didn’t want to go with him when he was rambling?
“Heston, I’m sure it would be –” I didn’t want to hurt his feelings but I had to tell him and make it completely clear. He was a sweet man. Attractive. Smart. And many have said we would make a great couple. A smart match. But I didn’t think of him like that. He was a friend.
“If you’re worried about your patients, I can get one of my interns, or the first-year residents to check on them. I can make sure they –”
“Heston!” My voice was louder than I had intended. I looked around and noticed that the nurses, the aides, and several patients being ambulated in the hallways were all staring at me. “Sorry,” I said, moving my eyes from one person to the next. I grabbed Heston’s arm and moved him to the far end of the nurses’ station, where it was a little less occupied. Looking into his eyes I could see he was confused and shocked at my reaction.
“Did I say something?” He leaned in and tried to place his hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off, doing my best not to come off as brash or harsh.
“No,” I said, trying to stay as calm as possible. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just don’t think it’s appropriate to talk about that right now here and now. Besides …” I looked both ways to see if anyone was around. Pausing a bit longer than I had intended.
“What?” Heston took a small step backwards. “What is it?” I was hesitant to tell him. But I had to. If I didn’t, he would just keep talking about his friend’s beach house party – and taking me with him.
“My ex-boyfriend is back in town and he has asked me to meet him for lunch.” I waited for his response. He stayed silent. “I said ‘yes’.”
“The one that left you?” Heston’s facial expression wasn’t one of jealousy. It was anger. “That ex-boyfriend?”
I could hear the tone of disappointment and disgust in his voice. My body tensed slightly. “Yes,” I responded, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why?”
Heston scoffed at my words. “Why the hell would you agree to go out with him?” He shifted his weight back and forth several times. “Don’t you remember what you went through? Don’t you remember what it was like when he left you?”
My mind quickly shifted back to the sleepless nights. The depression. My poor job performance. “I remember,” I watched Heston’s lips move as he began to remind me of all the things that happened. He spoke but my mind refused to hear the words. These were things I tried so hard to forget, to get over, to overcome. I didn’t want to be reminded.
Suddenly, I felt defensive. Defensive not just for myself, but I also wanted to defend Warren. How dare Heston attack Warren? He didn’t know what happened. He wasn’t there. He didn’t know why Warren left. I didn’t even know why he left.
Fuck!
Heston was just being a good friend. When Warren left me, he and Gayle had been the ones to help me through it. Gayle stayed with me for weeks and Heston covered my patients, so I could take some time off work. He had helped me through one of the hardest times of my life and I was getting mad at him for being worried about me.
I put my hand on Heston’s forearm. “Stop,” I whispered. “It’s okay.” Heston looked down at my hand now touching him. He slowly raised his head, looking into my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be,” I said. I shook my head. “It’s okay. You’re just worried about me, and I appreciate it, but I promise you. It’s just lunch. I’m not going to make the same mistake twice. My heart is still broken from the last time.”
“Well,” Heston pulled his cell phone from his pocket and checked the screen. “If you need anything, now or after your lunch date, or whatever,” he looked up at me, “you have my number.”
“Hey guys.” Gayle approached us rubbing her hands together. “Sorry about that.” Heston and I looked at her. She studied us a moment and took half a step backwards. “Shit,” she said. “Wanna fill me in on what the hell happened here? What’d I miss?”
“Not much,” Heston looked at his phone again, taking a few backward steps. “I gotta go, but why don’t you ask Rose about her upcoming lunch date? It’s a really, really interesting story.” Heston smirked at me, turned and walked down the hall, quickly turning the corner and disappearing out of sight.
Gayle put her hands in the oversized pockets of her nursing jacket and rocked up onto the balls of her feet. “So,” she said, smiling. “What lunch date is he talking about?”
I covered my face with my hands and leaned on the counter. Fuck!
Chapter Six
Pulse is racing. Breathing is shallow, fast. I placed a digital thermometer to Matthew’s forehead, moving it down one side to the back of his ear. 102? I did it again, just to make sure. 102!
“Okay, Donald,” I said. I did my best to speak calmly. “I need you to get a few clean wash clothes or rags and run them under cold water. Wring them out so they’re not dripping, but still damp and bring them to me. Can you do that?”
Donald nodded rapidly and ran off through a doorway. I turned my attention back to Matthew.
“Hey sweetie,” I moved closer. “Let’s get you comfortable.” I took off his socks to dissipate his body heat and pulled a faded brown blanket off the back of the couch and covered his body to ward off chills. “Do you have any idea how much you weigh?”
“About one forty-five,” Matthew said and adjusted himself on the couch, wiggling, tucking, turning. “Why?”
“Well, I want to give you some medicine to help with your fever and the pain,” I reached into my bag, “but I need to know how much to give you. The dosage is based on body weight.”
“It’s not another shot, is it?” Matthew looked at me with a tinge of fear in his eyes.
I chuckled. “No. I promise. It’s not another shot.”
“Apparently, she doesn’t know I’m already on my way,” I chuckled. I waved to acknowledge her. I could see her smile from yards away.
“Hi Nana,” I said, climbing the three wooden stairs. “How are you doing today?”
“Today’s not your regular visitin’ day,” she said. “What are you doin’ here?”
“I know. I had to check on Matthew. Donald’s boy. He was attacked by a wolf, remember?”
“Oh, sugartit! Is he okay?” I looked at Nana Kay and tried not to laugh. Her expression was one of true concern, but she had some of the most unusual, colorful ways of cursing I had ever heard. Each one was more entertaining than the last.
“Yes, Nana,” I said, giggling. “He’s going to be fine. But I asked about you. Is Warren taking good care of you?”
“Oh, yes!” Her voice filled with excitement. I love havin’ him home. “He had to run to town last night. But he said he’d be bringing me supper from a real diner and then be spending the day with me.”
“A real diner, huh? That sounds nice.” A diner? I looked down at my watch. 10:15 a.m. Shit! I gotta go! “I’m sorry, Nana. I wish I could stay and talk longer, but I have a da –” Fuck! It’s not a date! “I have an appointment I need to get to. I’ll be back in a couple days – on my regular visiting day. But you can call me if you need anything.”
Leaning down, I kissed Nana on the cheek and waved as I made my way down the path. I began to get nervous, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach – a feeling I hadn’t felt in a long time.
It wasn’t a date, but apparently, I forgot to tell my body.
Chapter Seven
Reaching for the long door handle, I watched my hand for a second and noticed I was shaking. I jerked back, made a fist, and tried to squeeze the nerves from my body. Shit! Why am I nervous? I shook out my fingers and filled up my lungs with the sweetened air wafting from the café. Okay. This is silly.
“Were you going to go inside?” Hearing Warren’s voice from behind me caused every muscle in my body to tense. “Or maybe you just want to stand out here and stare through the window at the food. You can just imagine what it tastes like.”
I turned to stand sideways, looking at him over my shoulder. Damn. He looks hot. Why does he have to look so hot?
“I thought I forgot my wallet,” I said. Was that a good lie? I hope that was a good lie. Was it least a believable lie? “I was trying to remember if I put it back in my purse.” I watched his face for a reaction. Nothing. “But it’s okay. I have it.”
“Well, that’s good,” he said. “That could have been a very bad situation.” Warren flashed me a smile and I feared my knees would buckle. “So,” he reached for the big metal handle and pulled the door open wide. “Do you want to go inside?”
“Yes, of course,” I said, walking through the open door. Once I was out of his line of sight, I scrunched my face in frustration.
The diner was nice. It had an old-fashioned feel to it. The service was good, the food was delicious, and the company was more than enjoyable.
“By the way,” Warren said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I was to hear about your Dad.”
I nodded and placed my fork on my plate. “Thank you,” I said. I’d taken to thanking people when they offered their sympathies about my father’s passing. There wasn’t much else I could do, at least not without crying.
“He was a great guy. Everyone liked him.” Warren offered me a sweet smile. “I liked him.”
“He liked you, too, Warren.”
“And I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you when he –”
“Don’t.” I held up my hand to stop him. I couldn’t do all that yet. I had to get used to being in the same room with him again first. I wasn’t about to open that can of emotional backlash in a public place. “We don’t have to go there. Not now. Not here. Okay?” Or maybe not ever.
“Yeah, okay.” Warren picked up his fork and took another bite of his macaroni and cheese. I took a bite of my chicken salad. “So,” he said, “I don’t see a wedding band.”
I laughed, covering my mouth to keep the food from expelling out onto the table. After regaining my composure, I responded. “No,” I said. “No wedding band. No husband. No kids. No boyfriend. Is that what you wanted to know?”
“Yes.” He flashed his sexy smile. “Thank you. And to save you the embarrassment of having to ask, I’m not now, and never have been married, engaged or in a relationship with anyone since you. I don’t have any kids either.”
“Who says I wanted to know?” I smirked.
For the next thirty-five minutes, we talked, laughed, and finished our meals. The waitress came and cleared the plates and left the check, which he insisted on paying as he invited me.
Suddenly, he leaned closer and placed his hand on mine. “I know you said you didn’t want to talk about this here…”
“I don’t,” I said.
“Then please just listen.” I looked at him and could see how much he needed to talk. I nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about what I did, the things I said, and how I left.” I felt the more he talked, the less I could breathe. “But mostly, I’m sorry that I left you at all. I was confused, and I wish I could explain better, but please know that it never, ever had anything to do with you. It was never about us.” My body began to tremble. I fought back the tears, swallowing hard. “I loved you then. I have always loved you. And I love you now.” I had to stop him before I had a break down in the middle of the diner.
“Okay,” I said. “I understand.” I don’t understand why you’re here. Why you came back or why you’re telling me all this.
“You do?” The look on his face was one of relief, happiness, and excitement. He gripped my hand tighter.
“I do.” I don’t. “But I don’t forgive you. Not yet. And it will take me a while to forget what happened, because seeing you again opened up that wound. You should have trusted me, respected me enough to tell me the reason.” Warren nodded.
“I get that,” he said. “I didn’t expect you to forgive me or to forget. I’m just happy you listened to me at all. I wasn’t sure you would even do that.”
“But I still love you, too, Warren. I always have.” We sat silently for a moment, exchanging glances. Warren kissed the back of my fingers and electricity seemed to shoot from the contact, up my arm to the base of my skull. “Let’s get out of here,” I said.
Warren went to pay the check and I walked outside, desperate for some fresh air and a moment to gather myself. What the fuck? I looked at Warren through the window of the diner. What the fuck!? I smiled as he pushed open the door and approached me. And of course, he was a gentleman and walked me to my car.
“This was nice,” I said. “Thank you.” Warren leaned in to kiss me, but immediately pulled back and apologized. I realized I wanted to know what his kiss would feel like now.
“Oh, shit,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume… to be so forward. I mean. I know we’ve kissed before, but now we’re not … and you’re not … and we didn’t … we just…” His hands flailed about with his words. It was cute when he rambled. I slowly stepped toward him, put my finger to his lips to silence his endless flow of words, and pulled him closer.
“It’s okay,” I said, raking my hands through his hair. “We’re not kids anymore.” I kissed him softly. “We’re both consenting adults.” Moving one hand to his waist, I pulled him to my body and kissed him harder, brushing my tongue against his lips, inviting him to take it.
And he did. Warren gently pushed me against the side of my car and pressed his pelvis against me. His hand brushed the side of my face and chills raced down the back of my neck. I wanted him. I realized the feelings I
had for him weren’t gone, just dormant, and his lips were all I needed to wake them.
We made out like horny teenagers – all hands, lips and tongue. At least until we heard a car door slam nearby. Turning toward the noise, watched an older couple exiting their vehicle. They were staring at us. The man grabbed the woman’s hand as they walked away, and the woman smiled and winked before turning her attention to her husband.
I buried my head into his chest and laughed. Warren wrapped his arms around me and held me for a moment. I remembered his warmth and for the first time in a long while, I felt comfort. I felt secure. I felt loved. Raising my head, I met his gaze. I had forgotten how easy it was to get lost in his eyes.
“Maybe we should take this somewhere more private,” I said. “You could come to my place. I could make dinner, and then we could just hang out and see what happens.” I ran my hands down his muscular arms, refamiliarizing myself with the shape of his muscles and the feel of his skin.
“Oh, um, well,” Warren words stumbled, and he took a step back. He held onto my hands and looked down at the ground. “I can’t tonight. I have to uh … I need to … it’s just –”
“It’s okay,” I interrupted him before the situation got too awkward and ruined what I thought had been a wonderful occasion. “It was a last-minute idea. I’m sure you already have plans. We can do it another night.”
“How about I call you and we’ll make plans? I want to take you on a real date. Pick you up. Get a drink. Take you to dinner.” He looked up and smiled, stroking the back of my hands with his thumbs. “If you want to, I mean.”
I paused, not wanting to seem too eager or too available. Moving my eyes down, and then to the right, I attempted to give the illusion of needing to consider his offer. Maybe it was stupid, but it made me feel better to make him work for it at least a little.
“That would be nice,” I finally replied. “I would love to go on a real date with you.”
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