Speaking of her outfit, she looked amazing. She wore skinny jeans again with a red, fitted top. Her hair was twisted into some half-way braid thing winding around her head and the other half fell over her shoulders. Her face glowed with exuberance. I caught myself stealing glances at her during the meeting.
Glenda’s voice said the parting words I’d been waiting for. “See you next week.”
Jules bumped me with her elbow. “How have you been?”
I answered mechanically. “Been good. You?”
“I’ve beengreat.” Her emphasis on the last word was an invitation to ask why. I’d be rude to ignore such a prompt.
“Ah, you have something you want to tell me.” I mustered the courage to look her in the eyes. Her blue eyes danced, sparkling with excitement. I couldn’t help but smile back.
She blurted. “I went skydiving today.” She wiggled in her seat, pleased beyond measure.
“Wow.” I was truly impressed. The woman apparently liked activities to get the blood pumping. “I was wondering why you were looking so happy. You’re still riding the high.”
She laughed and waved her hand. “Oh yeah, I feel like I’m floating.”
“Water skiing, skydiving. What else you into?”
“Plenty. I love shooting and rock climbing. When I’m able to travel I like bouldering, kayaking, and rafting. Actually, I rode a dirt bike on a stunt track a few months ago. That was fun.” She smiled and held her chin up.
I shook my head and stood. She matched my actions. “I feel like the most boring person on earth now.”
“Extreme sports aren’t for everyone.” She squeezed my arm playfully.
“Thanks for trying to make me feel better.” My skin tingled from where she’d touched me.
An older man shuffled over to us. “Hey there, young man, I don’t think I’ve met you. My name’s Butch.”
“I’m Patrick.” I shook his hand, and the smell of alcohol wafted over to me with the motion. How sad. To be in a recovery group and still not kick the habit. My heart burned with compassion for him. I hoped he would see recovery in his remaining days.
He prattled on about random stuff and in my peripheral, I saw Jules drifting toward the door. The disappointment I felt was a shock. I wished I could catch her and talk for a few more minutes. She wasn’t half bad to be around, minus the flip-flops.
Maybe I was so lonely my neurons weren’t firing right. The nights grief and guilt didn’t consume me, loneliness did. I ached to share, laugh, and do life with a friend or companion. My heart hurt wondering if I would ever have someone to hold and love again.
After all I’d ruined, maybe I didn’t deserve companionship. But deep down I knew I couldn’t survive long term without it. I glanced toward the door as her frame disappeared, the loneliness settling on my spirit like a cinder block.
Heck, I was just a man. And Jules was a lovely, interesting woman.
Butch watched me, waiting for an answer. I tried to shake the image of her from my head. “I’m sorry, Butch, what did you ask?”
“What do you do for a living?”
“Uh—I’m—in construction, sir.” I ran my fingers through my hair, wondering how to escape without being rude. I fiddled around with the week’s printout and stammered for words. You know what? Screw it. Who cared if I was rude. “Butch, I’m sorry. I may have to catch you next week.”
“No problem. Nice to meet you.”
“Same.” I called the word over my shoulder as I made my way toward the door. Like a schoolboy fool, hope and fear surged in me.
The double doors groaned as I swung them open. I arrived in the parking lot with surprising speed, my long strides covering the distance with ease. She was there, standing on the corner waiting for her ride—probably Uber again. We were a little too far from Berkshire for her to walk back. The screen on her phone lit up her face. She frowned.
My heart thrashed against my rib cage as I approached. I worked to keep my tone cool. “Your ride not show?” I didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I shoved them into my pockets.
“Hey.” Her frown melted when she saw me. “They were supposed to be here at 8:30 p.m.”
“Ah, bummer.” I took a deep breath of the night air. For a brief second, I surveyed the sky’s purple streaks of receding light, willing my nerves to calm. Never in my whole life had I asked a woman to dinner. I chided myself for my childishness. How hard could it be?
Just ask her, Moore.
