Take 2 on Love

by Torrie Robles

  “True. Let’s rectify that situation right now.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and looks at me, ready to insert my number. I must look like a deer caught in the head lights because his face softens a bit. “It’s just a number, Whitney. We’re neighbors.”

  I look up at him. “What?”

  “The look on your face.” He points to me. “There wasn’t anything pleasant about it. If you don’t want to exchange numbers, that’s okay, I under–”

  “No! No, it’s okay. You’re right. It’s no big deal. Here, give me your phone, and I’ll give you mine.”

  “Only if you’re sure.”

  I laugh, the awkwardness no longer present as I hand him my phone. Once we take care of the number part, I bring up the reason for my visit. “So I got a package today.”

  He smirks. “Did you now?”

  “Yeah, do you know anything about it?” I cross my arms over my chest, trying to give my best ‘pissed’ look I can conjure.

  He scoffs, putting his hands on his chest. “Me?” He winks. “Why would I know anything about that?” He laughs his throaty laugh, and the sound makes my knees weak.

  “Thank you, Liam. You’ve got a great sense of humor. I appreciate it.”

  He looks a bit embarrassed, so he drops his head, rubbing the back of his neck. When he brings it back up, he smiles. “Did you at least read it?”

  My body shakes with silent laughter. Smiling, I shake my head.

  “You may be missing out on the novel of the century.” He throws his hands up in the air, “You never know if you don’t take a chance. What is it that they say, ‘don’t judge a book by its cover.’”

  “I’ll take my chances,” I respond.

  His chest draws up with a deep breath. “Do you think, once you’re up for it, that you wouldn’t mind if I ran with you in the mornings?” He looks out into the neighborhood, “I don’t really have any friends outside the base, and most of those guys are living on base.” His gaze locks with mine. “If not, that’s okay–”

  “No.” I wring my hands together. “No, that would be good. I’d like that. A running buddy is always a good thing.”

  A smile breaks out across his face. “All right, okay. Cool. So just text me when you feel up to it.” He rubs his hand down the back of his hair before points back the door. “I gotta get back. Who knows what the kids have been up to while I’ve been out here.”

  “Yeah, okay.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “That sounds like a plan. I’ll text you when I feel up to it.” I stand there, not sure what to do next. His eyes fall to my hand, and that’s when I remember that I’m still holding the plastic bag. “Oh. Here.”

  He takes it from me. “What’s this?”

  “Something I thought you’d need. I picked it up last night while I was at the store.”

  When he opens the bag, when he sees what’s inside he starts to laugh again. He pulls out the tube and shows it to me. “Self-tanning lotion?”

  “What can I say? I’m a neighbor who likes to help.”

  “Well, thank you. I wouldn’t want to be mistaken as a fictional character with green hair and orange skin.”

  “You’re welcome. Don’t say I never did anything for you.” I place one foot behind another, twisting myself around so I can head home.

  “Night, Whitney,” Liam calls after me.

  “’Night, Liam,” I yell back over my shoulder as I continue on my way.

  ME: Hey, are you ready to eat my dust?

  LIAM: Who’s this?

  My heart sinks when I see his text hit my screen. I know we exchanged numbers, but maybe he didn’t save mine? I’m not sure, but I feel like a complete idiot.

  LIAM: I’m joking, Whitney.

  A smile breaks across my face as relief rolls through my body. I’ve never done this before. I’m forty years old, and I have no clue how to navigate through whatever this is between Liam and I. Other than Tony and Steve, I don’t have any other male friends. I’m not sure if I should act like one of the guys or be sweet.

  LIAM: Whitney?

  ME: Sorry, I’m here.

  LIAM: Are you ready? I’ll meet you out front in 5 mins.

  It’s been five days since my last run, and my legs are finally feeling well enough to start back up. I never intended to make Liam my running partner, but he looked so hopeful when he made the suggestion that I didn’t want to let him down. Lacing up my new shoes, I grab my light jacket and head out. The kids are still asleep and probably won’t be up until I wake them. Got to love the weekends.

  As soon as I step outside, the brisk air takes my breath away, and I know that I won’t be doing this much longer. Running is not a favorite of mine and running in the cold is even a least favorite. Maybe I can join another gym? I don’t care if I have to drive to the next town over as long as I don’t have to run there.

  “Hey,” I hear Liam call as he runs up to me. “Ready?”

  I swing my arm across my chest, stretching. “Yeah,” I tell him.

  He quirks an eyebrow at me. “Are you running on your hands?”

  “What? Why would you ask me that?”

  “Because you’re stretching out your arms when you should be stretching out your legs. The proper stretching will help with shin splits. Bend over at your waist like this.” Easily, he brings his arms up over his head, leans over and bends himself in half, touching the toes of his shoes. “Your hamstrings are essential in running.” His voice is strained as he continues to do a little bounce against his legs.

  “Yeah, I haven’t been that limber in about twenty years. There’s no way my body is folding like that. My muscles will stretch as I run. I’ll be fine. Come on.” I leave him there, bent over and unable to argue. I make my way to the wooded trails that outline the complex and listen to his footsteps, telling me that he’s following me.

  “You’re stubborn, aren’t you?”

  “I’m an independent woman. It’s not about being stubborn. It’s about knowing what I can and can’t accomplish.”

  “Tell that to your body when you’ve pulled a hammy.” He darts ahead of me, leaving me smiling.

  I need you to say it. I want to hear the words. Come on, you can do it. There’s only three. Three. Small. Words.”

  His voice irritates me. My eyes are squeezed tight, jaw clenched, I can feel the dirt being embedded under my nails as I scratch at the ground and his voice still irritates me. “Argh!” I scream out as he rubs the back of my thigh.

  “Come on, Whitney,” he coaxes, kneading his fingers into my flesh. “You can do it, Ms. Independent.”

  Whipping my head up off the ground, I bring my body up to rest on my elbows, and I glare at him. The smug bastard is smiling. “You like this, don’t you? You’d like for me to say that you were right and I was wrong, right?”

  “I don’t need that many words, just three.” He lowers my leg to the ground. When he gets up on his feet, he offers me a hand, which I gladly take. The ground is cold, my leg hurts, and I want to go home. “Throw your arm over my shoulder and put your weight on me. We’ll walk back,” he tells me as he hoists me off the ground.

  “I can walk. Thank you, though.” He lets go of my hand, dropping the subject of him helping me home.

  The walk back isn’t too bad. I know my leg will be sore for a while, but it could have been worse. The limp that I have going on is minor, but I know I won’t be wearing heels any time soon. “What happened to your husband?” Liam’s question is out of the blue and makes me stumble a bit. Instinctively, his arm shoots out, wrapping around my waist, stabilizing me. “I mean, you wear the rings, but I’ve never seen him.”

  I push away from him, righting myself. “We’re separated,” I say, my tone flat. I continue on, praying my leg makes it back.

  He jogs a bit to catch up. “Can I ask what happened?”

  My eyebrows crease as I bite my inner cheek. How do I answer this question? Everyone in my family thinks I’m in the wrong when I’ve told them my reasonings. W
hy would Liam be any different?

  “I guess life maybe? I don’t know.” I pull on my ponytail, tightening it as I continue to walk. “Maybe it was a young love that ran its course?” I shake my head because I don’t believe that. “I was tired of thinking that time would fix the issues we were having.” I stop my rambling. “I don’t want to sound like an ungrateful witch, but it was just how I was feeling. I would be in the room, and it was like he would look right through me. What’s the saying? Doing the same thing and expecting a different outcome? I guess I was tired of feeling crazy, so I tried a different method. I told him we needed a change, and I left.” I laugh to myself remembering the night. “Actually, I guess you can say he left, but I moved out.”

  The side of his mouth draws up as he gives me a small smile. “It’s not wrong to want to be valued, Whitney. We all deserve it, and we shouldn’t expect anything less from our spouses.”

  “Yes, but what if your happiness makes the rest of your family unhappy?” I sigh, not sure if I even know that answer.

  “You can’t make everyone happy, Whitney. But I think that’s the problem with a lot of people. They rarely hold onto the importance of their own self-worth and value. Especially when you bring husbands or wives and kids into the mix. Especially mothers. As soon as you hold your child in your arms, you become number two on the list of priorities to yourself. But it’s your husband’s job to make you remember that you are still important and valued. We tend to forget about that. Besides, life’s too short, and there’s going to come a time when it’s over, and you never want to question if you were really valued in your life.”

  “I agree with you. Too bad most of my friends and family don’t agree with you. Their first reaction is to ask why I would breakup my family.”

  “Marriage is a two-way street.”

  “Yes, well, I think my marriage has been in neutral for a while. You can’t stay in park on a street when you should be moving.” I glance at Liam, and he seems deep in thought. “What about you? What happened to you and Priscilla?”

  His jaw clenches and I know that I’ve hit a sore spot. Since the fly-in, I haven’t seen her around campus, which is strange since we aren’t a large campus. “Well, that’s a story for another time. I’m not quite ready to talk about it.”

  I don’t push him to answer. I don’t have the need to know yet. I enjoy his company with or without conversation. Besides, I have a feeling that when he is ready, Liam will tell me what happened between him and his wife.

  The country diner is alive this morning. The bakery counter is overrun with customers as they try to grab the latest of the fresh baked goods lining the shelves of the case. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air, and the gust of chilled air swirls in every time someone enters. I love this time of year. The colder it gets the better, and the fact that I know it won’t last forever is the topping on the cake.

  The chiming of the bell draws my eyes to the restaurant door. Heath walks through, wearing a tan coat that falls mid-thigh. Under his jacket, he’s wearing a plaid flannel and dark denim work jeans. His boots are clean, telling me that he’s been in meetings rather than in the dust of job sites. Before I can get my feet under me enough to stand up, he leans over wrapping one hand around the nape of my neck, pulling me into a chaste kiss, and then taking a seat. I feel the heat creep up my neck, burning my cheeks.

  “What?” he asks before lifting his hand, signaling for a waitress.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” he asks as he removes his coat, turning to lay it over the back of the chair. “Thanks for inviting me. I’ve been meaning to call, but we’ve started two new design builds this past week, so we’ve been swamped.” When the waitress comes over, she gives Heath a stunning smile.

  “Well, I’m glad that you could make it,” I say, ignoring the woman standing at our table. “I know you’ve been setting up all the meetings between us so I thought it was my turn.”

  He smiles one of his genuine smiles. “Well, I appreciate it.”

  “Your usual, Mr. James?” she asks him before acknowledging me.

  He gives her a passive smile. “Yes, that’ll be great, and whatever Mrs. James wants as well.”

  She startles a bit like she didn’t know I was sitting right here. “Yes, of course.” She turns her body towards me, lifting her pad and pen reading her for my order. “Ma’am?”

  I glance down at the menu. “I’ll take the Santa Fe Chicken sandwich and coffee, please.” Handing her the menu I give her a tight smile. As soon as she walks away, I ask, “Your usual? How do you have a usual here?”

  He tilts his head, squinting his eyes slightly. “I’ve been coming in here a lot lately. The foods good and they’re quick with the service. That’s why I suggested it when you called.”

  “What’s your usual?”

  “Veggie frittata with egg whites.”

  I’m shocked, “Well look at you being all heathy.” He gives me a smile in return.

  “Here’s your herbal tea, sir, and your water, ma’am,” the waitress interrupts.

  “Thank you,” Heath tells her before bringing the cup to his lips. Taking a sip, he hums in satisfaction. “It’s the perfect temp, thank you.”

  “Of course, your food will be right up.”

  “So…” He scoots his chair in closer to the table and leans his arms on the top, his eyes scan my face, brows drawn together. His expression softens before he speaks. “How are the shins? Feeling any better?”

  “Yeah, they’re a lot better. Thank you. My neighbor and I picked up running again a couple of days ago so I’m good to go.”

  “Great, I remember having them in school–”

  “I remember,” I cut him off. “I wanted to ask the janitor to pick you up from third period and drive you to your next class because it was clear across campus.”

  He holds my gaze with the tiniest of smiles on his face. “Yes, I recall how adamant you were about that. My friends would have revoked my man card, even before I officially had possession of it if I went along with your scheme.”

  “I was just trying to take care of you.”

  “Yes, you’ve always tried to take care of me.” He gives me another small smile. It’s the same one he used to give me when I’d catch him staring at me when we were younger.

  The waitress arrives with our food, causing Heath to drop that smile in time to give her a curt nod as she sets our food on the table. “I hope everything’s to your liking, Mr. James.”

  His eyes crinkle at the edges. “I’m sure everything’s great, thank you.”

  “I think she’s got a thing for you,” I tell him.

  “I think she’s got a thing for a good tip.” He digs into his eggs, popping a bite into his mouth.

  “What did you think of your food?” Heath asks me before he takes another sip of his tea. This is his third cup.

  “It was fantastic,” I say as I lean back in my chair, patting my belly. “I don’t know why I don’t come here more often.”

  He eyes me over the mug. “Maybe we can make it our thing, you know? Take some time, maybe Sunday mornings, and come to breakfast.”

  I feel the corners of my mouth turn up with a smile which makes him smile as well. “I’d like that. Maybe we can bring the kids too.”

  “Sure, if they agree to keep their phones in the car.”

  “Yeah, well,” I say, “I guess it’ll be just you and me then. Asking them to do that is like asking them to cut off an appendage.”

  He laughs at my joke. The waitress comes and places the check on the table, but when I go to reach for it, he snatches it from my hand. “You know that’s not how this works, right?”

  “I’d like to pay for it,” I tell him, making sure I sound adamant.

  “Well, I’d like a few things,” he wiggles his brows at me, “but I’m not getting those either, so you’re going to have to deal.” He leans over to the side and pulls out his wallet, snaking the credit card for its
holder. A flash of red catches my eyes against the dark brown of the leather.

  “Hey.” I put out my hand, “What’s that?” I point to the wallet. When I look at him, he has a puzzled look on my face.

  “What’s what?” He opens his wallet all the way. It’s a picture of the two of us. We were both wearing red T-shirts, and I think it was from the eighth grade Sadi Hawkins dance. I had just broken up with my boyfriend, and Heath said he didn’t have the time to deal with the female population. Of course, me being the exception.

  I was always the exception.

  “You still have that?” My voice goes quiet. I can feel my nose start to burn with emotion.

  He licks his lips, his eyes tracking the emotion on my face. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  I snatch his wallet from his hand making his eyes widen in shock. “Why haven’t I ever noticed it before?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve carried it with me since the night we took it.”

  I inspect the picture that rests in the cracked, cloudy plastic. It’s the only picture he carries with him. I run my finger over the picture, instantly taking me back to that night. We danced and laughed the entire night. When Sarah Pollock tapped him on the shoulder and asked him to dance, he turned her down flat, and every weekend after when she’d ask him to hang out with her. I laugh to myself, thinking about it. She hated my guts. She tried to bully me the rest of the year, but Heath didn’t let her attempts stand. He protected me from her and her posse of bitches until the moment she moved away, and all of her friends suddenly became my friends. Funny how that works.

  He clears his throat, so I hand his wallet back. “Sorry about that,” I say.

  “Don’t be.” The corner of his mouth draws up. “For over twenty years, Whit, you’ve been with me day in and day out. Even when you’re not with me, you’re with me.” He taps on his wallet.

  “I–I never knew you were so sentimental.”

  That makes him smile. “I’m not sure I’d call it sentimental.”

  “Then what would you call it?” I question.