“I only moved what fit in the truck, and I’m obsessed with my books.” I point to the shelves in the living room. Sliding omelets on the plates, I set them in front of the bar stools. “Haven’t quite managed a real table yet.” We both sit down. “Actually, you’re the first person to come to my apartment.”
“Wow, I feel honored.” She smiles and picks up her fork. “I’m still working on furnishing mine. My futon is my couch, my chair, and my desk. I’m surprised you haven’t had people over. You seem like such a social guy.”
“Really? I guess. I need to have people over, reciprocate on some of the parties. I’ve just been getting my bearings.”
“Ditto.” She nods and takes a couple of bites.
We finish our breakfast and put away the dishes. I talk about how I feel connected to Jeff, Isabelle, Beth Ann, Cody, Mitchell, and Carlos. She tells me about a nurse at Mayo she’s eaten lunch with. We begin hauling the gear down to the truck-wash area.
Working with the water makes the sun bearable, and I pretend to accidentally spray her.
“Hey, you did that on purpose!” She aims the hose at me and soaks my shirt.
“I should have mentioned you could bring your suit for swimming.” I spray the water in the air, creating a mist.
“That would be fun. We probably should think about water conservation and ease up on the hoses though.”
Refocusing on the task, we get everything washed up and carry it to my patio to dry.
“Did you want to clean your car?” she asks.
“I can do it later.”
“I don’t have anything to do today.”
“Okay.” I grab my keys, and we pull the truck into the vacuum bay. After detailing the inside, I back the truck next to the hose. I spray a section off, and we wipe it part by part, using a towel for drying.
“Not too shabby.” I point to her car. “Okay, yours.”
“Sure.” She jumps in the passenger’s side, and we switch out cars and start to clean hers.
“I feel so productive.” She turns on the vacuum.
“Yeah, the cars will look great until it starts”—I smile, thinking of how she described the rain—“bucketing again.”
She pops me with the towel. “Don’t make fun of me. And if you’re going to say it, you should get it right, bucketing down, not just bucketing.”
“So, you lived in Ireland for eight years? Have you lived anywhere else besides Jersey?”
“Nope.” She shakes her head as she replaces a mat in the rear. “You didn’t stalk me on social media yet?”
“Was I supposed to?”
“I figured everyone did.”
“I prefer in-person stalking.” I crane my neck into the back seat.
She pushes my forehead from her path. “Good to know.”
“So, did you find me?”
“Of course, had to make sure you weren’t a serial killer. You should make your page private. I found Doug and Amanda’s pictures. She’s really beautiful.” Climbing out of the car, she wipes her brow.
I don’t want to talk about Amanda. “Hot enough for you?”
“Getting there.”
“At least we have water.” I swipe the hose from the ground and press the handle, shooting mist in her direction.
“That feels amazing!” Holding out her arms, she dips to wet her face.
“Okay, outside.”
It doesn’t take long to wash her small SUV, and she drives me back to my apartment. I’m disappointed we’ve finished all our tasks.
“Do you want to see if the gear is dry? I’ll help you pack it up,” she offers.
Normally I would have said I’d do it, but anything keeping her here sounds great to me. I hope she’s thinking the same thing. The equipment is dry, and I find the bin in the closet.
“Holy hotness.” Liz fans her face.
“Hey, why don’t we move this stuff inside to pack?”
“Good idea.”
In the kitchen, my stomach gurgles, and I check the time on the microwave. I can’t believe it’s been five hours since we ate. “Are you hungry? Cause my stomach is complaining.”
“A little.” She shrugs.
“Let’s eat. I have sandwich supplies.” I wash my hands and start loading meats and veggies onto the counter.
“I don’t want to impose. I can get lunch when I get home.”
“I have zero plans for today.”
“Okay.” She glances at her phone and places it back in her pocket. “I’ve been starving since the canyon trip. I guess making up for all the calories I burned.”
“Probably. Hey, you should come swimming sometime. Our pool has two lap lanes, and no one uses them.” I load the sandwich makings on the counter.
We make our meals and sit at the bar.
“The pool at my complex is nice too.”
“I bet. You got that fancy gated thing going.”
“My”—she sets her sandwich down and looks to the wall and back to me—“dad insisted. I’m the first kid to move away, so…” She takes a bite of her meal.
We eat in silence for a few minutes, me wondering if I’m reading too much into her body language when she talks about her dad. I realize my mouth is dry. “Oh, my gosh, water, are you dying?”
“I’m a little thirsty,” she admits.
Handing her a glass, I down mine. As we pack the camping gear, my mind races with ideas of how to prolong our day together. I wish I’d thought of the pool thing before and asked her to bring her suit. It doesn’t take ten minutes to load the bins. I take one to the closet, and she carries the second.
“Hey, I have tons of pictures from the trip. I could show them to you if you’d like?” I ask as I lock the closet door.
“That’d be awesome. I only have the ones I took with my phone. Thanks again for printing those, by the way.”
“No problem.” I make my way into the living room and grab my laptop. “Here.” I point to the couch. “If you want to print any more, we can upload them.”
I set the laptop on the coffee table. We hunch over, studying the shots. After a few minutes, my back is killing me, and I slide to the floor. She copies me, and we sit leg to leg going through the photos.
“Oh, my goodness, remember when Josie fell in?” She points at a shot of one of the other rafts stuck on a rock. “She was so mad.”
“I think she was more embarrassed than anything.”
We go through the photos, adding commentary from everything that happened on the trip. “Holy crap, remember this?” I laugh at a shot of Isabelle dropping her meal in the campfire.
“Oh my God. I think John almost peed his pants.” She giggles.
Then, we start recalling all the crazy things that occurred, and I can’t stop laughing.
“Oh, my gosh.” She lays down on the carpet. “We have to stop; my stomach muscles hurt.”
“Okay, okay.” I pull her up by her hands, and we take a seat on the couch. “Serious photos only.” I open my folder of sunrise and sunset shots.
I navigate to the shots of us in the river the last night.
“I will remember that trip forever.” She spins to face me.
“Same.” Her smile is mesmerizing, and I almost decide to kiss her.
“Okay.” Standing, she scans the room. “I’ve worn out my welcome.”
“Are you kidding?” I jump to my feet. “I’m having a great time with you. We could watch a movie, get in a workout?”
“Really? What would you be doing if I weren’t here?”
“Probably go to the gym or call some buddies to play basketball.”
“See, you don’t want me hanging out. You got your abs to think about.” She slaps my stomach and grabs her bag.
I catch her arm. “We could work out in the weight room.” I said it before really thinking about it and wonder if I’m coming on too strong. I don’t want to seem desperate.
“I don’t lift much. I guess I’m dressed for it, though.”
; “Okay, it’s a plan.” I’ll be right back. I duck into my room and grab my gym bag. We make our way down the stairs and across the complex.
“I can’t believe it’s after six,” she says as we enter the gym. “I don’t think I’ve spent twelve hours with someone in forever.”
“And obviously, this is the coolest place to hang out.” I spin in a circle, pointing out that there’s absolutely no one there.
“Yeah, Saturday night at the gym, woo hoo!”
She heads to an arm machine, and I follow her. I watch as she starts and decide she knows what she’s doing. Taking the machine beside her, I begin my workout. We circuit through all the machines, and it’s nearly eight when we exit.
I look to the dark clouds in the sky. “We might see some bucketing.”
Shaking her head, she points at me. “Bucketing down is a type of verb, not a noun.”
I raise my palms. “Oh, sorry, grammar police.”
At my door, she stands back as I open it. “I really need a shower now. I think I’ll head home.” She bends to pick up her bag and swipes the envelope of photos off the coffee table.
“I’m enjoying hanging out. I thought we could grill something for dinner.”
“Are you sure? Not taking pity on me because I have no friends?”
“Did you tell me you had no friends?”
“I guess dinner would be fun. Do you need anything at the grocery? I could swing by on my way back.”
We survey my fridge, which I’d stocked the day before hoping today might go like this. She leaves and I shower, put on some nice jeans and a t-shirt, and scrape off the grill. Checking my alcohol stash, I see I have a couple of bottles of various beers and a bottle of red and white wine. I light the grill and browse the internet while I wait. Before long, there’s a knock at the door, and I jog to answer it.
Entering, she holds up a bag. “I stopped and got dessert and wine.”
“Sweet.” I take one bag, and we make our way to the kitchen. “The grill’s hot.”
She preps the asparagus, and we put it and the meat on the flames.
“This is a cute grill,” she comments as she flips the veggies.
“Did you call my grill cute?”
“Umm, no, it’s nicely patio-sized.”
“That’s what I thought.”
We go inside, and I open my fridge. “Would you like some wine or beer?”
“Whatever you’re drinking is fine.” She backs against the counter.
I grab two beers, open them, and pass her one. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” She smiles and taps her bottle to mine. “Okay, bread.” Spinning around, she opens the knife drawer and grabs the cutting board. “Do you have butter?”
“Just give me a chunk. I’m starving.”
“Okay, here.” She holds up the loaf, and I tear a piece off.
Following suit, she takes a bite. I wash the lettuce, and we eat salad and bread waiting for the grill. When it’s finished, I grab the fish, and she puts the asparagus on our plates. We sit at the bar.
“We did good. I think you’re hired,” I remark after tasting each item.
“I’m hired? Maybe you should’ve asked for a resume. The only other thing I know how to cook is pasta.”
“Lucky we have the same tastes then.” I take another swig of beer. My phone buzzes from the kitchen counter, and I jog to it. “Ugh, it’s after sunset. I need to take this.” I punch the receive button. “Hi, Mom. Hey, listen, I have a dinner guest. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“What? Who? Anyone I know? A girl?” Mom asks.
“No, Mom.”
“Okay, well, I was wondering if you talked to Aunt Heather.”
“I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“Okay, have fun. Love you.”
“Love you too.” I glance up at Liz as I end the call, and she’s smiling at me. “What?”
“That was sweet.”
My face flushes. “She’s my mom. A little bossy sometimes, but overall a good mom.”
“Why did sunset matter?”
“Oh, after the Sabbath.” I rejoin her at the bar.
“Oh, right, Jewish, got it.”
“Is your family religious?”
“Very. Catholic.” She lifts the cross that includes Jesus’ form from under her collar.
“I guess a lot of Irish are Catholic.”
“Or Protestant, you know the whole war thing.”
“Right.” I nod. “Hey, have you ever been to San Diego?”
She swallows her bite. “No.”
“Would you like to go? I’m thinking of taking a trip next month to see my family for Rosh Hashanah.”
“You’re asking me to go to San Diego to celebrate Rosh Hashanah with your family?” She spins to face me.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“We haven’t even been on a date. Asking me on a first date might be a good step.”
“Oh, really.” I look down at my plate. “Wait.” Facing her, I hold my index finger up. “I drove you somewhere and we had a meal, so I think that could be considered a date.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “I don’t think so.” Getting up, she takes her plate to the sink.
I follow her. “Okay, well, would you like to go on a date with me?”
“What were you thinking?”
“I don’t know. I have to do some research.”
“Why?” She starts loading the dishwasher.
“Because it can’t just be any date.” I reach over her to put a plate in the washer. Our faces are so close I want to kiss her.
Her lips form a thin smile, and she backs up. “Well, you think about it and then ask me.”
“What do you like besides hiking, biking, volleyball… Oh, yeah!” I point at her. “Dancing.” Club dancing doesn’t sound like a first date thing, but an idea forms in my head. “Okay, I’ll think on it and let you know.”
“Good.” A smile spreads across her face and reaches her eyes.
We finish cleaning up, and she makes her way to the living room. A yawn erupts from her mouth, and she covers it with her fingers. “This has been a fun day. Thanks for hosting me.”
I stand in front of her. “I had such a cool time.”
“Me too.” She bends to pick up her bag. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night for the bike ride.”
“Yeah.” I slide past her to the door. Opening it, I hold it for her. “I’ll walk you down.”
“Thanks.” She passes me and waits while I grab my keys and lock up. I look to the sky as we get to the parking lot. “It’s starting to sprinkle. It might start bucketing soon.”
She covers her mouth and doubles over laughing.
“What?” I ask.
“Sorry, did you say bucketing again?” She pushes up on her toes.
“Obviously I cannot get this Irish thing!”
“Just never say bucket in relation to rain again.”
I hold my palms up. “Sorry, never will again.”
“Okay, good.” She bites her lip. “Goodnight.”
Before I can lean in, she spins and opens her truck door. Drat. I wonder whether she’d been close to kissing me and do a mental forehead slap.
I pull into the lot at the trailhead the next night and smile. Liz, with her cute pink-and-white biking outfit, lifts her bike off her car. Parking and unlocking my bike, I make my way to the group.
“Hi,” I whisper in her ear.
“Hi.” She smiles and introduces me to the people around her.
We make small talk till everyone arrives. Starting out, I trail her. Really, I can’t wait till the ride is over and I can announce my plan for our first date. I spent the day researching and gathering equipment, so I’m psyched to hear what she thinks. The ride is an hour and a half, and we arrive in the parking lot as a rainstorm approaches.
Running to our cars, I bend down so we are eye level. “Do you have plans for Tuesday night?”
“No, why?”
&nb
sp; “I was wondering if you would go out with me.” I help her lift her bike onto the carrier.
“Want to get out of the rain?” She motions to her car, and I prop my bike on her back hatch.
Jumping in, I slam the door behind me. “Got a towel?”
“Sure.” She reaches into the back seat and hands me a towel. “Holy hotness.” She switches on the ignition and air. “Wow, this is crazy. One second sunny, the next—”
“Bucketing down?”
She looks at me and smiles. “You got it right.”
“Third time’s a charm.” I smile.
“So, Tuesday night?” She pulls her helmet off and grabs another towel from the back. As she releases her hair from the ponytail, a floral smell fills the space.
I shake my head to concentrate. “Yes, there’s a country bar that has line dancing. I thought it would be fun.”
Her eyes grow wide, and a smile forms. “I’ve never been line dancing.”
“Me either, but it looks like a hoot.”
“A hoot?” Throwing her head back, she breaks into a caroling laugh.
“It’s cowboy for a fun time. It’s a noun, if you must know.”
“That sounds like so much fun. I’m in.”
“Awesome.” I rub my hands together. “I’ll pick you up at seven. We’ll get some grub and a beer and go dancing.”
“You’re really going all out on this western thing.”
“Hey, if you’re going to do something, right?”
“Yep.” She nods and looks out at the rain again.
I look at my feet covered in mud. “Oh, man, your car is going to need detailing again.”
“Good thing I know a good person.” She smiles.
I tap my hands on my legs, searching for something to say.
She beats me to it. “So, do I need to dress up? I’m not sure I have anything appropriate to wear.”
“Nope, leave everything to me.”
Her eyes raise to the sky again. “What does your work week look like?”
“I have to miss volleyball on Wednesday. They asked to work a game.”
“Good for you, but not so much for our team.”
“You guys will do fine.” I tell her about my shifts, and she explains her rotation between different departments at Mayo. “I’m almost done on the cancer wing, and then I move to pediatrics.”
Deepest Scars: A Being Me Stand-Alone Companion Novel Page 10