I look at her in surprise. “You know about ROTC?”
Angel flushes. “I looked it up. Joining the Army, I mean. Not for myself. But when Hazel told me about you guys, I was curious.”
“I don’t mind,” I tell her. “It’s nice that you were interested. But to answer your question, I joined after graduation. When I started college, I thought I wanted to be a doctor. But by my senior year, I knew I wanted something different. The recruiter I talked to suggested training to be a medic. And if I wanted to try for Special Forces, which I did, I could be the medic for my team.”
The admiration in Angel’s eyes makes me feel warm all over.
“That’s incredible,” she says. “I can’t even imagine doing what you did. I mean, not that I knowwhatyou did. I know that stuff is confidential. But I’ve done some reading, so I think I get the basic idea of it.”
“Incredible might be an exaggeration. But I enjoyed it.” With a sudden flash of alarm, I realize the line of conversation is leading straight to the question of why I left the Army. And as comfortable as I am talking about all the other stuff with Angel, I definitely don’t want to go there. That’s why I quickly flip the conversation around.
“Hazel mentioned something about you being an artist,” I say. “Was that something you took classes for? What kind of art do you do?”
“Oh.” Angel shakes her head, smiling. “Hazel. She likes to exaggerate. I’m not an artist. It’s more a hobby that I rarely have time to do.”
“I see.”
“I went to college for art,” she explains. “But then I had Haley. So that put an end to my aspirations. Not that I’m upset about it. Haley is far more important than being an illustrator.”
“An illustrator?”
“Yeah.” A faraway look comes to her eyes. “That’s what I wanted to do.”
I set the cheese grater down. “What would you illustrate?”
“In a dream world? Children’s books.” Angel smiles. “Maybe one day. Once Haley’s grown. Then I could go back to school, maybe try my hand at illustrating a book. But for now, I’m fine with waiting tables at Blissful Brews.”
“Could I see some of your artwork sometime?” I ask.
Angel hesitates. “You don’t have to. I didn’t tell you because I wanted?—”
I catch her hand. “I know.” Stealing a quick glance at the phone, I verify that Haley’s still out in the backyard, safe and sound, playing with Murphy. “I want to see your artwork, if you’re willing to share it with me.”
She stares at me for a long moment. Then a slow smile appears. “Okay. Maybe next week? If you have time, you couldstop by for a few minutes? Unless you’re going to be too busy with work…”
But a few minutes isn’t enough. I want more time with her.
The cautious part of me raises a hand in warning, but I ignore it.
“I’m heading to Maine on Tuesday,” I say, “and I’ll be back on Thursday. Then I have a morning shift at Stowe on Friday.”
Her smile droops. “Oh. Okay. I understand.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” I glance at the phone again. Haley’s tearing across the snow with Murph hot on her heels. Tugging Angel closer to me, I continue, “I meant, I have Friday night free. Thursday, too, but I have to get to bed early that night.”
“Okay?”
“So I was thinking, would you like to go out on Friday night? Or we could stay in if you’d prefer. Order some food and watch a movie. Whatever would work best for you.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “You mean a date?”
A rare spurt of nerves hits me. It’s ironic because I never used to get nervous about asking a woman out. In my younger days, I loved the thrill of it—spotting a woman at a bar and exchanging glances from afar, the flirting, the kiss at the end of the night that would oftentimes lead to more, and texting or calling the next day with full confidence that she’d want to see me again.
But this time, like everything else with Angel, it’s different.
My pulse jumps as I reply, “Yes. A date. I don’t know if you have a babysitter, or if you’d rather have Haley come along. That would be okay, too. I just—” I release a quick breath. “I’d like to spend some more time with you. That’s all.”
“A date.” Angel looks at me, then the phone, then our joined hands, and finally back at me again. “And you wouldn’t care if Haley came?”
