“And I’m sorry for hitting on you at the fair. I really regret it.”
A pained grimace takes over her face.
Nausea swirls in my gut.
Great. This is goingterribly.
I haven’t apologized to a lady like this since that one time I climbed my grandmother’s neighbor’s tree and stole her prized apples. My grandmother marched me right back to the neighbor’s house, made me apologize and had me work on her farm for free for three days straight.
Since then, I’ve made it a rule to treat people with consideration. All bets are off on the ice, of course. But in real life, things are different. That phrase ‘do it now and ask forgiveness later’? That’s not the mantra I live by.
But just because I have a principle doesn’t mean it’s easy to walk it out.
As the silence thickens, I start to wish I didn’t feel so guilty about this particular infraction. Maybe it would have been easier to avoid Riley like she’s been avoiding me.
Stop complaining, Nat. Be a man and take accountability for what you did wrong.
The awkwardness is unbearable, but I push on. “I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention at all and if I’d known it was you?—”
She grimaces again.
“—I mean, it’s not that there’s anything wrong with you. I just wouldn’t have approached you like that in the first place.”
“Nathan, it’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”
“Great. Awesome. I’m glad to hear that, Riles. I was scared I’d made things weird.”
Riley turns away from me, her ponytail swinging. “You’re the one making it weird right now.”
“I apologize for that too.”
“You might as well start apologizing for world hunger and climate change while you’re at it.”
I chuckle.
“I can’t believe you drove all the way out here this early on a Monday morning for that.” Riley picks up a broom and starts to sweep the floor. “Does that night even count as ‘hitting on’ me? You were just asking for my name.”
I gulp so hard I’m sure they can hear it from Timbuktu. Does she really think that or is she just trying to make me feel better? I wasn’t being pushy with her at the fair. And based on what Chris said about Riley’s love life, perhaps she’s had far more disrespectful encounters.
But whether Riley recognized it or not, I knowmyself.
And I sure as day was flirting with her.
However, Riley has forgiven me and I don’t see the point of dissecting my infraction. That would be like telling my grandmother’s neighbor how much I enjoyed eating the apple I stole.
She stabs at an oil puddle on the floor. “Where is this stupid oil coming from? I thought we threw away the barrel.”
“Let me.” I take two giant steps toward Riley and grab the broom from behind.
Her fingers tighten around it. “It’s fine. I got it.”
This is also new. I can’t remember a time in the past when Riley would insist on doing chores.
“I might as well make up for my wrong-doing,” I protest as I jerk the handle slightly toward myself.
“It wasn’t that big of a deal.” She has her back to me so, when she pulls the broom in the other direction, the bristles slide between my legs.
“Riley, don’t be so stubborn. Let me…” The rest of my words trail off as Riley twists her head to look at me.
