“Well, maybe I’ll be lucky and see you again before you leave.”
Locke didn’t seem to know what to say to this, but a sudden blare of music jolted Melissa out of her seat.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, obviously flustered. “I’ve got to go. I’ll be back in a minute to take your order.”
Locke watched as she climbed onto the counter with several other servers and danced to the music. “You know,” he observed, “I never really watched them do this before. I hope she doesn’t fall off and hurt herself.”
When Melissa came back she was a little breathless. “Don’t tell my boss I was nice to you guys,” she said in a low voice. “I’m already in trouble for not being sarcastic enough, and I only have a few more weeks left. I’d hate to be fired this close to the end of the summer.”
“Most people don’t worry about being fired because they were too nice,” Locke observed.
“Most people don’t work at Ed Debevic’s.”
Once they’d placed their orders and Melissa had disappeared, Locke looked dazed. “Was she trying to get me to ask her out?”
Rebecca tried not to smile at his obvious confusion. “It sure seemed that way.”
Locke shook his head like he was trying to jar his brain back into place. “I can’t believe she lives in Michigan. What are the odds?”
Rebecca let her mind wander while Locke tried to keep his eyes off of Melissa. What would Elliot do when he got back? Would he try to see her? Did she want him to? That was a stupid question, she thought. I admitted to Jen that I still loved him; of course I want to see him. I just wish I knew what to do when that happens.
They ate their dinner quietly, each of them lost in their own thoughts. When Melissa brought their bill, Locke grabbed it and, with a deep breath, wrote something on the back.
“What did you write?” Rebecca asked, curious, after Melissa had taken the check.
“My phone number.” Locke’s voice sounded strangled.
“Good for you. Wait and see what she does.”
When Melissa returned she smiled broadly at Locke and handed him his receipt. “I hope to see you again soon,” she said before another customer called her away.
Locke opened the folder with trembling fingers. Inside were his receipt and a small note, signed by Melissa, with a phone number on it.
Locke was so jittery the next morning that Rebecca forced him out of the apartment, dragging him to the nearest home improvement store to help her pick out paint.
“What are you painting again?” he asked distractedly. “I thought you weren’t allowed to redecorate apartments.”
“I made a deal with the landlady,” Rebecca explained. “I got a great deal if I got rid of the green in the sitting room and kitchen.” She stared at all the colors in front of her, wondering what to choose. “I kind of like green,” she mused. “Just not the shade that’s in there already. Maybe a lighter tint would work better.” She plucked a card off the display and held it out to Locke. “What do you think?”
He ignored her, pulling his phone out of his pocket and inspecting it.
Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Just call her,” she advised. “I’m pretty sure she’ll go out with you.”
“I can’t.” Locke suddenly sounded anguished. “I’m not sure I’m ready to get involved with someone again.”
Rebecca put her arm around him. “I don’t think she’s expecting a marriage proposal tonight,” she told him gently. “It can’t hurt to get to know her a little better. Besides, it’ll be good practice for when you are ready for something more serious.”
Locke buried his head in her hair. “You’re right,” he said, his voice muffled. “I’m so glad you’re around. I hope Elliot doesn’t screw things up again; promise me we’ll still be friends if you decide never to speak to him again.”
Rebecca tried to swallow the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “I promise,” she choked out. “How could I not, after you flew all the way out here just to make sure I wasn’t going crazy? If I could adopt you into my family I would.”
“Maybe I’ll adopt you into mine.”
“You’ll have to take Cassie, too.”
Locke pulled away from her and smiled. “That won’t be a problem.”
“So are you going to call her today or not?”
Locke looked at her in confusion. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Yes,” she said laughingly. “You aren’t doing me a whole lot of good at the moment, and I could probably get more done if you got this over with and called the poor girl.”
Locke stuck his tongue out at her before he took a deep breath, walked a few steps away, and started to dial.
The next morning the apartment felt empty without Locke. Rebecca laughed to herself, remembering his dazed expression when he’d come back from his date with Melissa the night before. When she’d asked him how it had gone, he’d just smiled and shaken his head. “I’m meeting her in Ann Arbor when she gets back to school in a few weeks,” was all he would say. Then he’d pulled her into a fierce embrace and kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll call when I get back home.”
Rebecca considered getting the downstairs rooms ready to be painted, but spent most of the day flitting from thing to thing. She kept checking her watch, wondering each time she did where Elliot was and when he’d be home.
The next morning she woke determined to keep Elliot out of her mind. She went about her normal workday routine. For once she was at the downtown branch. She spent all morning reading stories to groups of children and advising parents on the books their children would enjoy before Jen came by to remind her that it was time for lunch.
“Are you eating in the back room?” Jen asked. “I didn’t see your lunch in the fridge.”
“No,” Rebecca said, wishing she’d remembered to pack one. “I’ll have to run out and get something. I’ll be back before the next session starts. Do you want me to pick you up anything?”
“No, I’m good. I’d hurry, though; they’re calling for rain this afternoon.”
The air was thick when Rebecca exited the library, and she quickly ran down the sidewalk. As she approached the street a taxi screeched to a halt. The door flew open, and out stepped Aaron.
“Rebecca! I was hoping I’d run into you today. Have you eaten yet?”
She shook her head dumbly and allowed him to grab her arm. “Let’s go,” he said smoothly. “Now that I’ve seen you I can’t face eating lunch alone.” Not wanting to make a scene, Rebecca allowed him to propel her into the taxi. “I’m sure you don’t have all afternoon to hang out with me,” he said, watching her closely, “but I’d enjoy your company for a little while.”
Rebecca tried to smile. “That’d be fun.”
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was casually dressed in shorts and a polo shirt, and he had a baseball cap on. She took her phone from her bag, opened it up. “Say ‘cheese’, Aaron,” she said. When he turned his head, she snapped a picture of him. His expression grew smug when he realized what she had done, and he took the phone from her to view his image.
“What’s this for?” he asked, handing it back to her.
Rebecca shrugged casually. “Some of the girls in the library didn’t believe I was seeing anyone,” she explained, hoping he would buy it. When he didn’t say anything, she breathed a silent sigh of relief and reminded herself to forward the picture to Jen when she got back from lunch.
The taxi driver headed down Michigan Avenue and stopped when Aaron opened his door at a light. They walked down the street, not speaking, until Aaron suddenly halted.
“How’s your friend doing?”
Not sure which friend he meant, Rebecca blinked at him.
“The one who got himself shot in the shoulder.”
“Oh, Scott. He’s doing much better. Why do you ask?”
Aaron shrugged and threw his arm around her shoulder before heading down the street again. “Just wondering. When are
we going out again, by the way? I’m sorry I didn’t call you this weekend, but I was a little busy.”
Rebecca almost told him she didn’t want to see him again, but she remembered Jen’s promise to ‘chaperone’. “When did you want to go?” she asked, hoping he wouldn’t suggest that evening.
“I don’t know. I’m free Saturday night; why don’t we go to the House of Blues? I hear they’ll have a good band, and you know I wouldn’t mind seeing you get dressed up for me.”
Rebecca tried not to roll her eyes. “That’s not really a dressed-up sort of place.”
Aaron smiled lazily. “I don’t care. Come on, you owe me one. After getting pinched at your aunt’s last weekend…” he shuddered involuntarily, “…Come on, Rebecca. I’m not asking you to ransom your soul.”
Rebecca shifted uncomfortably under his arm. “Saturday sounds fine.” She kept the fact that she’d be bringing reinforcements to herself, not wanting him to recant. “Shall I meet you there?”
Aaron’s arm tightened around her. “And miss the opportunity to see you safely home? I don’t think so. I’ll come get you at eight. I promise to be on time,” he added.
A rumble of thunder bounced off the buildings around them and people scurried past, looking for shelter. A few seconds later, the heavens opened, drenching everyone that wasn’t fortunate enough to stay indoors. Rebecca shrieked and felt Aaron grab her hand as they flat-out ran across the street. He pulled her through the revolving doors of Water Tower Place and they collapsed, laughing, onto a bench in the corner of the building’s entrance.
Gasping when the cold air inside hit her wet skin, Rebecca tried to wring the water from her skirt. “I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I got caught in a downpour,” she said. She looked up to find Aaron’s eyes fixed hungrily on her wet, nearly see-through blouse.
“You look very… tantalizing right now,” he murmured. “If you didn’t have to be back at the library soon, I can guarantee you I’d find a better use for our time.”
The hairs on the back of her neck rose and she shuddered slightly, feeling tremendously uncomfortable. “Then I’m glad my work is waiting for me,” she said lightly. “I’d better hail a cab or I’ll be late.”
He looked like he was going to argue with her, but his phone rang and he smiled at her ruefully after checking the display.
“I’m afraid I have to take this,” he said. “I’ll be just a moment.” He stepped away, leaving Rebecca grateful to whoever had called him for the interruption.
When Aaron came back he was less than pleased. “I hate to do this to you,” he began, “but I’ve got to run. There seems to be a problem at the office.”
“That’s fine,” Rebecca said a little too quickly. “I can take care of myself.”
“At least let me grab you a taxi,” he said. He leaned close and trailed a finger across her neck and down her arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake. “I’m looking forward to our date on Saturday.” He was gone before Rebecca could form the words that would cancel their date.
Rebecca rose to her feet, feeling nervous. What was she thinking? Jen was no stronger than she was, and Scott was still recovering from a gunshot wound. What help would they be if Aaron tried something? She turned to follow him out, intending to tell him she had forgotten something–anything–important, when the revolving door swung around. She glanced up at the person exiting and found herself staring straight into the startled eyes of Elliot Winters.
He skidded to a halt, and the paper he’d been holding over his head–in a vain attempt to stay dry–dropped forgotten to the floor. They stared at each other for a few seconds before someone stuck behind him started to push harder. Elliot swallowed, bent to pick up his newspaper, and placed his hand on the small of her back. She shivered and he glanced at her before propelling her toward the stairs, where he finally let his hand drop from her back.
“Rebecca? What are you doing here?”
Rebecca was having a hard time breathing. “I got caught in the rain,” she managed to gasp out after a few seconds.
Elliot looked down at her damp clothes and smiled to himself. “I can see that.” He was quiet for a moment, then blurted out, “I understand you heard about Nicole.”
Rebecca, who had been more focused on the way the water dripped from his hair onto his shoulders than what he was saying, jerked back to attention. “Yes, I did. Michael called and told me.”
Elliot cleared his throat nervously. “You must have been surprised.”
That was the understatement of the year. “Something like that,” she said wryly. “I wasn’t sure who she was marrying.”
Elliot shifted uneasily and rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, well, Locke told me you might be a little confused.” He cleared his throat again. “So now that you’ve heard the entire story, what do you think? Do you think you could marry someone after knowing them for only three weeks?”
“Definitely not.” Rebecca’s answer was so quick and sure that Elliot smiled involuntarily, and he relaxed his awkward stance.
“I agree,” he said. “Brad seems to be a good guy and all, and he has all the qualities Nicole was looking for, but I’m not sure I’d do it if I were in her position.”
Rebecca grinned at him. “I’m not sure I’d do anything Nicole would.”
Elliot’s smile spread across his face, making him look almost boyish. “I certainly hope not.” He stopped talking and glanced at her anxiously. “Do you need a ride back to work? My car isn’t that far away, and I’d be happy to–”
“Rebecca! Come on, the taxis won’t wait forever!”
She could have killed Aaron right then and there, but Elliot’s hand on her arm stopped her from stomping over. “Who’s that?” he asked, looking around the crowded foyer.
She just shook her head and walked over to where Aaron was standing, impatient, by the window. “I thought you were watching for me,” he snapped.
Rebecca could tell when both men noticed each other; Elliot stiffened behind her, and Aaron’s expression grew smug. “Aren’t you the reporter?” he asked. “I understand you’ve been out of town.”
Rebecca glanced up at Elliot and saw the muscles in his chiseled jaw, flex. “I’m back now,” he said stiffly. “And I intend on staying.”
Aaron bared his teeth in what Rebecca assumed was supposed to be a smile. “I understand you perfectly, Elliot. Right now I’ve got to get Rebecca back to work.” He motioned for her to follow him and turned towards the door. When he looked toward the street, he swore under his breath. “Come on, Rebecca,” he muttered. “One of the taxis just left. Now I’ve got to find another one.”
“Go ahead, Sharpe,” Elliot said. “I’m sure you’re in a hurry. I can make sure Miss Done finds a way back.”
Aaron looked at Elliot sharply for a second. He seemed unsure of whether to leave or not, but his phone rang again and he bent over to kiss Rebecca lingeringly on the cheek. Elliot’s fingers tightened almost painfully around her wrist. “Until Saturday,” he murmured, just loud enough for Elliot to hear.
When he was gone, she almost sagged against Elliot’s chest in relief. “What’s going on?” he asked sharply, yanking her away from the door and out of sight. “Are you seeing Aaron Sharpe?”
“No!” Rebecca’s voice was shrill. “I’m not dating anyone.” She had a sudden urge to laugh, followed by an equally strong one to burst into tears.
“Then what’s going on Saturday?”
“It’s a group thing. I didn’t want to go, but Jen convinced me that it might be a good idea. You should come,” she added in a rush, now sure that she needed him to be there. “It would be more fun if you were around.”
Elliot looked like he didn’t know what to say. “Where and when?”
“Saturday, at the House of Blues. Please tell me you’ll come.”
Elliot smiled faintly. “Would it mean that much to you?”
You have no idea, Rebecca thought. “Yes, it would.”
Rebecca smiled at him, glad that he hadn’t pressed her for more of an explanation. “Thanks,” she said simply. “You can’t know how much I appreciate that.” She turned to go, but stopped when Elliot called her name.
“Can I call you before then?” His voice was nervous, like it had been the first time he’d asked her out so many years before.
Rebecca could feel herself blushing. “I’d like that,” she said. “Do you have my number?”
He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and, without looking at it, recited her phone number. “You gave this to me at the airport,” he said at her questioning look.
“Oh, that’s right.” The rain had eased up, and she pushed the door open. “Thanks again, Elliot.”
She looked back through the taxi’s window to see that he’d followed her out of the building. He stood on the sidewalk and stared after her, the rain slowly turning his hair into unruly curls.
The next morning, Rebecca ran to the corner market and grabbed a copy of the Tribune. She brought it back to her little kitchen and read Elliot’s column while she ate breakfast.
Determination
by Elliot Winters
My intention for today’s column was to write about the eternal optimist, given the bleak economy we are facing, but I found myself sidetracked to the library after this afternoon’s storm. For those of you who haven’t been to one in a long time, it has to be one of the quietest places on Earth–and this includes my apartment, which has been sadly lacking in laughter and noise since I returned from vacation.
I was drawn to the children’s section, a bastion of cheerfulness and hope. It was story hour, and I settled myself in the back of the room, hoping to observe unseen.
The story lady was reading a version of ‘The Little Red Hen’, and the theme in the old fable reminded me forcibly of the age-old struggle each of us faces in our fight to get what we want most out of life.
The little red hen, for those of you who don’t have small children, begins when our intrepid chicken finds a grain of wheat in the field. She asks all her friends for help in planting, cutting, grinding, and then baking the wheat, finally turning her hard-earned labor into a delicious loaf of bread. All of these so-called friends decline her pleas for help, preferring instead to go about their own business and leaving the labor to her.
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