A Mile in My Flip-Flops

by Melody Carlson

  She turns and looks at me, then her expression changes. “Actually, now that I’m looking at you, I think you have lost weight,” she says.

  “Okay, now you’re just messing with my mind—”

  “No, seriously, you look thinner.” She pulls the scale out from where it’s tucked next to the cabinet, then forces me onto it.

  I’m about to give her a piece of my mind, but I notice the number. “Hey, you’re right. I have.”

  “See, don’t you feel better now?”

  I stand up straighter. “Actually, I do.”

  “It’s probably from giving up ice cream and working on your house project.”

  “That and Dad’s heart attack. I haven’t had much appetite since he was rushed to the hospital.”

  “So…” Holly pulls out a broomstick skirt that’s various shades of earthy greens and golds and holds it up. “This is pretty, and it should be no problem since the waist is elastic.”

  “A skirt?” I frown at her.

  “Yes, sometimes women wear skirts, Gretch.” She points to the bottom half of her light blue business suit, a knee-length, fitted skirt I could never wear.

  “And it looks fantastic on you, Holly, but I am not—”

  “Shut up. You’re wasting time,” she tells me. “Put on that skirt while I find a top.”

  So, without arguing, I put on the skirt and submit to several tops until Holly decides on the moss green camisole topped with a pale yellow, sleeveless silk blouse and then adds a woven belt and jewelry.

  “Voilà!” Holly proudly shoves me in front of the full-length mirror on my closet door.

  “This is too much,” I tell her as I remove the beaded necklace. “Noah will think I’m trying too hard.”

  “Spoilsport.” She puts on a pouty face now.

  “It’s my life, Holly.”

  “Well, you have to leave the rest, Gretchen, or I will give up on you completely.”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t have time to change it,” I tell her.

  “What about shoes?” She rushes back to my room.

  “That could be a problem,” I admit.

  “How about those Michael Kors sandals that you got—”

  “Riley ate one of them.”

  “That bad dog. You need to break him of that.” She pulls out a pair of gold-beaded ballerina flats that I got at Target a couple of summers ago, back when Collin was still in the picture. “These will be perfect with that skirt.”

  “And they’re comfortable,” I admit as I slip them on. “And now I gotta go.”

  “And you’re welcome.” Holly picks up Tina’s package, then checks me out and gives me one last nod of approval.

  “Yeah, thanks,” I say as I reach for my bag. “Tell Tina she can take that back to Pottery Barn if it doesn’t work for her.” I chuckle as we go out and I lock my door. “Don’t tell her that I didn’t even check her wedding registry. The glassware set is actually something I got awhile back but have never used.”

  “She’ll probably hate it,” admits Holly.

  “Probably.”

  “Have fun on your date with Noah,” she calls as we part ways in the parking lot.

  “Very funny!” I yell at her.

  Dad whistles as I walk into his hospital room. “Well, look at you, Gretchen Girl. Let me guess… Big date tonight?”

  I frown at him. “No, Dad, no date. And the only reason I look like this is because Holly insisted on dressing me.”

  “My kudos to Holly. You should make dressing nice a habit.”

  I sit down in the chair next to his bed and let out a discouraged sigh. “So, do I really look that bad … I mean, usually?”

  “Well, honey, you can’t deny that you’ve let yourself go a little. Back before that nasty business with Collin, you were looking real pretty. Then after the breakup, well, you know how it’s gone.”

  I nod. “I know. And that’s changing. I mean, I can say for the first time in a long time that I am over him. And doing this house… well, it’s like the world is opening up to me now.”

  He smiles. “I hope so.” He reaches out and takes my hand now. “Call me old-fashioned, but I like my girls looking pretty.”

  “Speaking of your girls, did you, uh, well, did Betty call?”

  “She did.”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “Mad at you? Why?”

  “Because I told her what happened…and you had told me not to.”

  “Oh well, now that I’m on the mend there’s no reason for her not to know. And I made her promise not to cut her trip short.”

  “I did too.”

  “Although she admitted that she’s already wishing she was home. She’s afraid that six weeks is going to be too much.”

  “Oh…” I try to imagine this. “Six weeks in Europe sounds pretty fantastic to me.”

  “Not me.” He shakes his head. “Right now all I want is to be at home sweet home. I never knew how much I loved my little condo until getting stuck here.”

  “It won’t be long, Dad.”

  “So, you haven’t told me, Gretchen. What are you all dressed up for tonight? Or did you doll up just for your old man?”

  “Oh, my outfit is just the result of Holly having fun. And tonight I’m grabbing a cheeseburger at Henrys with Noah after a long workday. He had some thoughts on homebuilding he wanted to share with me.” It was only a half truth, but I thought it was my best effort at sounding casual and keeping his matchmaking at bay.

  “Hmm… I’ll leave that one alone for now,” he says mischievously. “I’ve wanted to try out that diner myself. I asked Betty to go a couple of times, but she didn’t think it was a very healthy choice. But maybe while she’s gone, I’ll see if they deliver.”

  “Dad,” I say in a warning tone, “just because you got some new pipes to your heart doesn’t mean you no longer have to watch what you eat.”

  “We’ll see about that…”

  I glance at my watch now and realize that it’s time for me to leave. “Sorry I can’t stay longer, but I told Noah I’d meet him at six thirty.”

  “And so you shall.”

  I lean down and give Dad a big hug now. “That’s from Betty. She told me to give you a big hug for her.” Then I kiss his cheek. “And that’s from me.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And you know what, Dad?”

  “What?”

  “I really like Betty.”

  His eyes light up. “So do I.”

  “And if she ever becomes a more permanent part of our family, I want you to know that it’s perfectly fine with me.”

  He winks. “Thanks for your blessing, honey.”

  I laugh. “Like you needed it.”

  Now he looks serious. “I couldn’t be happy with someone you didn’t like, Gretchen. You must know that. You and I have been a pair for quite a long time now.”

  I nod. “Yeah, like twenty years.”

  “Well, you better run along. Don’t make Noah wait.”

  “Yeah, he sounded pretty ravenous.”

  “And I hope you have a nice evening. Noah is a good man.” He winks.

  “Thanks, Dad.” I leave it at that. He just grins as I walk out the door.

  Oh well, I think as I head for the elevators. If my poor, old, sick dad wants to be delusional, why should I spoil it for him?

  It feels odd to be dressed up like this and driving Dad’s big four-wheel-drive, diesel, club-cab truck. But if anything, it makes this seem less like a date. And that’s a relief because, despite Dad’s wishful thinking, I do not intend to develop anything with Noah besides a good working relationship. I just can’t see it being anything but messy—considering all my objections—and I’ve been through enough mess already. Plus, I think it could cause problems with my house-restoration project. I’ve seen enough HGTV shows to know the strain that renovating can put on people who have been happily married for years. I can’t even imagine how it might complicate things if the couple was just star
ting to date. With all the ups and downs of romance, a relationship with Noah could be the undoing of my house flip.

  Not that he’d even be interested. Good grief, who am I fooling here anyway? I’m sure Noah must have a flock of women—probably beautiful women—waiting in line for him. Maybe he’s already in a serious relationship. And why am I even thinking about this in the first place? I guess I can blame Holly and my dad. They were trying to plant the wrong things in my head.

  Why did I allow Holly to fix me up like this? It’s like a setup for a disaster. Noah will probably get the wrong impression, and I’ll end up totally embarrassed. And what’s new with that? If it wasn’t 6:29 right now, I’d zip back home and put on jeans and a T-shirt.

  Then, as I park the pickup, I start to feel indignant. There’s no reason I can’t look nice if I want to. Dad’s absolutely right; I have let myself go for too long. And, like Holly always says, I could run into Mr. Right anywhere along the way. Wouldn’t it be better if I looked halfway decent when it happened? I think about the interesting guys I could meet while shopping for building materials. Maybe I need to “spruce up” for those times too.

  As I walk across the street to the fifties-style diner, I wonder about the good-looking guy that Holly said owns Henry’s. I wonder if his name is actually Henry as I push open the door and go inside and look around. The place is fairly full, but I don’t see Noah anywhere. In a way that’s a relief because it will give me time to regroup and get my wits about me.

  “Table for one?” asks a dark-haired guy wearing a red and white bowling shirt.

  “Actually, I’m meeting someone,” I tell him. Then, remembering Holly’s encouragement, I smile directly at him. You just never know.

  He returns my smile. “Have you been here before?”

  “No, it’s my first time. But I’ve heard that it’s good.”

  He nods modestly. “Well, I hope you’ll like it. We’ve only been open a month, so I really look forward to customer comments.”

  “Are you the owner?” I ask as he leads me to a table toward the back.

  “I am.” He pauses, waiting for me to slide into the shiny red booth.

  “So does that make you Henry?”

  “That’s right. Henry Barrett. May I ask your name?”

  “Of course. I’m Gretchen. Gretchen Hanover.”

  He sets the menus on the table and shakes my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gretchen. And welcome to Henry’s. I hope you’ll become a regular.”

  “So do I.”

  “Caroline will be your waitress, but can I get you anything to drink?”

  I order iced tea, and just as Henry leaves the table, I notice Noah coming in the door. I’m relieved to see that he’s cleaned up too. He’s wearing neat khaki shorts and a light blue polo shirt. I wave, and he sees me and quickly comes to join me. Rubbing his hands together, he grins happily. “I’m starving.”

  “Have whatever you like,” I tell him. “Remember, it’s on me.”

  “I’ve been fantasizing about cheeseburgers for the past couple of hours.”

  “Maybe you should order two.”

  “Or maybe I’ll just go for the half pounder.”

  “That sounds like a lot of red meat.”

  He nods eagerly. “It does, doesn’t it?”

  As it turns out, he orders the half pounder with fries and a large chocolate shake. I follow suit, only I order the regular cheeseburger and a regular chocolate shake. “I probably shouldn’t have the shake,” I admit after Caroline leaves with our order. “I gave up ice cream a few weeks ago. But I just don’t think I could sit here and watch you drink one without having serious chocolate envy.”

  “You gave up ice cream?” he asks with a worried look.

  “Well, it was kind of an addiction,” I admit. “Not a very healthy one either.”

  “There are worse things than ice cream,” he points out.

  “Maybe for other people, but for me it was a pretty dangerous obsession with some form of very rich Ben & Jerry’s chocolate ice cream and HGTV.”

  He laughs. “I think that sounds like a pretty good combination.”

  “It served me well for a while,” I admit. “But then I switched ice cream for low-fat, sugar-free frozen yogurt, and HGTV for my very own house project. And you know what, Im not even sorry.” Now I look evenly across the table at Noah. “But you’ve got me talking about me, and the deal was I would buy dinner if you would tell me a story, remember?”

  He nods as Caroline sets the shakes in front of us. “Yup, but not until I get a nice long sip of this baby.”

  My name is Noah Campbell, and I am a recovering workaholic,” he confesses somberly. Then he pauses to take a second long drag on his straw, decreasing the height of his milkshake by another full inch. I hope he doesn’t get brain freeze. But I keep my concerns to myself and simply nod as I wait for him to continue what’s starting out as an interesting story. I never would’ve guessed this laid-back guy was a workaholic.

  He goes on to tell me that he started working with his dad’s construction company in his teens, earning enough money to buy a car … and then a motorcycle. “But construction was hard work,” he admits. “So when I got to college, I decided there were easier ways to make a buck. So a buddy and I started up this little software company.” He shrugs apologetically. “I guess it was just the thing to do back then, back in the early nineties. But for some unexplainable reason, our company actually took off.”

  “That must’ve been cool.”

  “Yeah, it actually was pretty cool … at first. It seemed our future was launched even before we graduated from college. Of course, my dad was disappointed because he’d been hoping I’d come home and go into construction with him full-time, handling the business end of things … and then, like I told you, he died.”

  “That must’ve been hard.”

  “Yeah, I blamed myself for a while. It seemed like the good son would’ve taken over the family business for the sake of his parents, you know? But the software company was just coming into it’s own right then, and I knew I couldn’t do both. Not successfully.”

  “So you continued with the software?”

  He nods and takes another long sip of his shake. “I made the selfish choice.”

  “You chose what seemed right to you. I’m sure your dad would’ve understood.”

  “Maybe… Anyway, Daniel—my partner—and I set up an office in Seattle. Pretty predictable, huh? Just like everyone else was doing at the time. But we worked hard and smart, and things just kept getting better, and the business grew. Of course, to keep that ball rolling, or maybe we were just chasing after it, we both put in really long hours. We worked weekends, and lots of times, if something big was going on, we’d work 24/7. It got to the point that we often spent nights at the office. There were a couple of leather couches and a little kitchen and bathroom. So work was pretty much my entire life back then.”

  I shake my head. “It’s hard to imagine that. I can’t quite picture you in the three-piece suit and the executive office and—”

  “It wasn’t so much like that. We were fairly casual … unless we did a presentation, say to an Asian company. That’s when the Armani would come out, and we’d shine our shoes.”

  As our cheeseburger baskets arrive, he continues about how the software business took on a life of it’s own and ultimately controlled him. Finally, I encourage him to take a break and enjoy some of this food, which is fantastic. He does and then gradually returns to his story; it’s as if something is compelling him to get the whole thing out.

  “Anyway, just as things were taking off for us, while we were the toast of the town, I started dating Camille. It seemed to go with the territory.”

  “How’s that?”

  “She was this gorgeous fashion model with expensive taste, and I was the computer-geek whiz kid on his way to making his first million.”

  “Really?” I want to point out that he’s not exactly a “geek�
�� but don’t.

  “Well, that was the plan.” He laughs as he shakes the bottle of ketchup onto his fries. “Before long, we were just one more predictable component of the Seattle scene.”

  “And then you got married?” Okay, as soon as I ask this, I wish I hadn’t. Why not just let him tell the story? But he doesn’t seem to mind.

  “Yep. That was almost ten years ago now. I had just turned thirty, and we’d been going out for a couple of years, and Camille had started pushing for an engagement ring. Her friends were starting to get married, and she got caught up in the whole wedding thing. Eventually, it seemed like the easiest thing was to agree. And to be honest, I was so caught up in the business that I liked the idea of having someone at home, making the place nice, cooking good meals.” He chuckles. “All those bachelor illusions of what married life might be.”

  He pauses to take another big bite of his burger, and I wait for him to chew, swallow, and continue. I’d ask another question, but it would probably sound stupid, and it seems like he’s already telling me way more than I imagined he would. And I must admit, Im finding it rather intriguing. It’s like a whole different Noah Campbell.

  “And, man, was that some wedding,” he continues. “Camille’s parents were pretty wealthy, but they had good friends who were megamillionaires with this incredible estate on Fox Island and no kids of their own. Anyway, they offered to host the ceremony, and Camille went all out. People were talking about that wedding for…” He laughs now. “Well, at least a couple of weeks.” Then his expression gets serious. “The talk probably died down about the same time the honeymoon ended.”

  “You guys honeymooned for two weeks?”

  “Actually, we didn’t even take a honeymoon. But that was mostly my fault. I was too consumed with the business, and we were landing a big account just then. And, of course, Camille wanted us to be rich. Very rich. So she agreed to postpone the honeymoon and—” He stops abruptly. “I can’t believe Im telling you all this, Gretchen. Am I boring you to tears yet?”

  “Not yet.” I smile.

  “Honestly, I don’t usually go into all this detail about my past, but I think maybe I’m feeling slightly intoxicated just now.”