“Nice to know I’m passing the class.”
I hadn’t even noticed any other woman today.
Actually, I hadn’t since the moment Shelly approached me last night with fire in her eyes.
The rest of womanhood had ceased to exist for me after that. I was one small heartbeat away from total domestication.
“And showing a woman she matters,” she continued. “You also got good marks on that today. The next step is opening up. You could learn to communicate without hiding behind jokes all the time.”
I considered that, then grinned. “Well, hell. Sounds like I’m ready to date forreal.”
Shelly’s smile stayed on her face, but her eyes flickered for a moment, so fast I almost missed it.
But Ididn’tmiss it.
I turned it over in my head while we walked, trying to figure out what I’d said that landed wrong.
And then I dug down a little deeper than I usually let myself share. “I don’t mean to joke all the time. I know I do it.”
She looked at me, and this time the smile was softer and more real.
“It’s who you are. I get it. But sometimes, it’s nice to let people in. At least… if you want to get to know a woman for real.”
The lessons were getting harder. But I forced myself to try it out.
I told her something I’d never shared with anyone before.
“My folks used to fight pretty bad when I was a kid,” I said, keeping my voice easy even though the words didn’t feel that way. An image of my mom with a black eye popped into my head.
“I figured out early on that if I could make them laugh, sometimes they’d stop fighting. It turned into a habit. Then my friends thought I was funny and… I liked the attention, so I just kept doing it.”
Shelly looked up at me in concern, stopping right there in front of the bottle toss booth.
“I’m so sorry, Amos.”
“A lot of times going out and having fun was better than being at home.” I frowned.
My dad hadn’t just beat my mom. He’d landed some solid blows on us kids, too.
But that wasn’t something I talked about. He was six feet under now, and I made sure my mom was well taken care of. I had ever since I got old enough to hit back.
“My dad and I didn’t get along,” I told her solemnly. “He moved out when I turned fourteen.”
Shelly was quiet for a moment, and then she bumped her shoulder gently against my arm. “That’s good, Amos. That’s exactly what I mean. You’re opening up.”
If she only had any idea how hard that was for me.
I reached over and brushed a curl back from her face, tucking it behind her ear.
“I always open up to you,” I said quietly. “You’re the only one I do that with.”
And maybe someday I’d tell her what my dad had done. And what I’d done in return.
But not today.
She looked up at me for a beat too long, warmth on her face while I wondered what it would be like to see those eyes every day of my life.
Shelly would make some man a hell of a wife someday. I wish it could be me.
