“Well then, I’ll just have one of these and skip my usual plum Danish and then I’ll have room for a nice little Swiss cheese and mushroom omelet.” She added a big smear of cream cheese to her plate and continued on her way.
Sean returned to his place behind the portable burners and double checked to make sure he had an extra canister of propane so he would be prepared if he ran out of firepower. Yesterday he’d been catering the Marley Creek Men's Club’s monthly breakfast, when he’d been so distracted by his thoughts of Nicolethat he he’d run out of propane and stood there for what seemed like an eternity waiting for an egg to cook while a white-haired gentleman glowered at him.
Nicole was messing with his head, and he wasn’t sure how to make it stop. He frowned and barked “Next,” to the line of people and a little old lady, probably someone who was friends with Mrs. Woodsman, jumped in fright. He stopped what he was doing, turned off his burners, and walked over to the woman. He mentally facepalmed and then spoke to her.
“Ma’am, I’m so sorry I startled you. I’m Sean, the owner of Jesse’s. Please accept my apology and to make it up to you, your meal is on the house today."
She looked up at him. She placed her gnarled hand in his and he shook it gently, in case her arthritis was bothering her. She smiled and her whole face crinkled. “Thank you so much. I’d really appreciate it. Any chance I can get a doggie bag, too? My little Maxine loves sausage.”
Sean smiled. He admired the old woman’s nerve. He was often telling himself, don’t ask, don’t get. In fact, that philosophy was the genesis of this whole problem named Nicole. “Where are you sitting? I’ll have someone bring over a to-go box of sausage and bacon for your pup.”
She shook Sean’s hand firmly and said, “That’s so kind of you, and as long as your food tastes as good as your customer service, I’ll be sure to give you a five-star rating.”
Sean smiled and laughed wide enough you could see all of his teeth. “Thank you, madam!” he said and went back behind the burners. “Now, what do you want in your omelet?”
By the time brunch was over, all the pumpkin bagels were long gone, and so were the new eggs. He hoped his new local supplier of free-range eggs could keep up with the demand. He made a note to see if they had any recommendations if they couldn’tprovide enough eggs. Soon it would be time to start having holiday brunches and he knew he would be packed.
As he cleaned up from the busy morning, he gave himself a pat on the back for keeping the thinking about Nicole to a minimum. They’d only gone out a few times, and yet she had such a hold on him. Maybe, he thought, maybe he should reach out to her one more time.
He started to take out his phone, and then he recovered his senses. Nope, he’d called and texted several times and the last text made it clear if there was any interest on her part, Nicole needed to contact him. He needed to back off in case she just needed time to process some issues of her own. He couldn’t do anything else and that was the problem.
He was a can-do guy, and he knew he could fix whatever the problem was if she would let him, but that wasn’t the right thing to do. He hated having to sit on his hands and let things play out, but at this point that was his only hope. He pulled grates off of the stove and picked up a Brillo pad. He might as well get his frustrations out cleaning.
They didn’t have any private parties and the big college football matchups were early games, so the Saturday night crowd was quiet and they were closed for the night by eight. He was stopped at the main stop light in town when he heard his phone ping in his back pocket. Even though the streets were basically empty on this gloomy October night, he decided whoever was texting him could wait until he got home.
He dragged himself up the two flights of stairs to his third-floor apartment, walked into his place and headed straight for the shower. As much as he loved the smell of bacon, it had been a long, long day and he wanted to feel clean, and he wanted to hit the sack. He turned on the hot water and shucked off his clothes. He gathered up all his clothes and was putting them in the hamper when his phone fell out of his pants and clattered tothe floor. He picked it up and turned it over to check whether the screen had broken in the fall. His screen was intact and there was a notification. He clicked the text icon and saw a new text from Nicole. He plopped down on the toilet, his legs almost giving way in surprise. Was she texting to tell him to buzz off or did she miss him like he missed her?
NICOLE: Hi Sean, I’m sorry for being such a jerk. Can you give me a chance to explain myself to you? Or is it too late?
Sean wiped the steam off his phone and re-read the text five times, then replied.
Sean began writing, not to late. Then he corrected it, Not too late. Then he deleted the whole message. He put his phone down and started to get in the shower. Then he backed away from the shower curtain and picked up his phone again.
Sean typed:
SEAN: Thanks for admitting you were being a jerk. It’s not too late. What did you have in mind?
Then he deleted that and finally decided on:
SEAN: I don’t think it’s too late. When would you like to talk?
He hit send and made himself get in the shower so he wouldn’t spend the next however many minutes sitting in a steam-filled bathroom wasting hot water and hoping she would text him back or call. After a very short shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and turned on the exhaust fan so he could see his phone. She had replied back!
NICOLE: Are you free now?
Talk about your second wind, Sean felt like he’d just had a triple espresso. He pulled out his electric razor and his favorite body lotion, the one that smelled like sandalwood and citrus.
SEAN: Yes, I can swing by in about half an hour.
He waited as three dots bubbled next to her name.
NICOLE: Sounds great!
He fist-pumped and did a little dance in his bathroom, then he finished primping and was out the door. He wondered what she was going to say. He wanted to believe that Nicole missed him as much as he missed her. Maybe not as much as he missed her, but well, at least she wanted to see him. That must mean she missed him.
Butterflies filled his stomach, and he could feel his heart beating as he drove to her house. In his joy at being invited over to Nicole’s, there was a kernel of resentment. He didn’t want to be in a relationship with someone who was not all in with him. He hoped that she understood this was it.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
