to kiss her goodnight?â Annie persisted.
âNo!â
âThen what are you going to do? Are you going to shake her hand?â Her tone was teasing now.
An old guy pushed open the door, nodded curtly and squeezed past me.
âIâll talk to you later.â
âCall me as soon as you leave the restaurant.â
I closed my phone, grateful for Annie. It was amazing how close Lorenaâs death had drawn us. Before, sheâd mostly been Lorenaâs friend.
I needed to pee, but the old guy was standing pushed up to the urinal, clearly finding it difficult to get a flow going with me three feet away. It would be cruel, and awkward, to wait.
Lyndsay had brushed her hair and put on fresh lipstick. She opened her mouth, likely to say something clever sheâd been rehearsing while I was in the bathroom, but I jumped in.
âSo tell me about the publishing business.â
Lyndsay leaned back in her chair, draped her arms over the armrests. âWhat I was going to say is more interesting.â Her smile was brimming with promises that both scared me and made my head spin. It had been more than two years since Iâd been with a woman.
Since Iâd been with my wife.
I felt a dizzy sinking in my stomach, like Iâd just dropped twenty floors in an elevator. This all felt wrongâwrong place, wrong time, wrong woman. I wanted to be home, in front of the TV watching
Lost reruns and drinking decaffeinated Earl Grey tea.
I wasnât sure how to respond to Lyndsayâs leading comment. The only appropriate response would be âWhat were you going to say?â Part of me was curious about what she was going to say, but most of me wanted to go home. Most of me felt like I was cheating on Lorena.
There was a cup of coffee in front of me, so I took a sip in lieu of a reply, and burned my mouth. It was a big sip, so I got caught in that moment where you have something hot in your mouth and you donât know whether to spit it out, which would mean passing it back over the tender parts at the front of your mouth, or roll it around in the back of your mouth and tolerate the pain until it cools. I tolerated the pain until it cooled. It seemed to take a long time.
âI guess Iâve left you speechless,â Lyndsay said, raising an eyebrow.
I set my coffee down. âIâm really sorry. I think I made a mistake. I thought I was ready to date, but Iâm not.â My tongue felt thick and cottony, maybe from the burn.
Lyndsay regarded me, then fished the strap of her purse from the back of her chair. âIf youâre not interested in me, just say so.â She pulled two twenties from her purse and dropped them on the table. âThe least you could do is be honest if youâre going to waste my Friday night.â
âItâs not an excuse, itâs the truth,â I insisted, although it was only partially true. I wasnât ready to date, but I also was not interested in her.
âMm hm.â She pulled on her coat.
I picked up her twenties, offered them back to her. âI can get this.â
She looked at my hand like I was offering her a dead rat. âIâm not sure youâre ready.â
I dropped the bills back on the table. âLook, my wife died, okay?â Even as I said it, I regretted it. I was using Lorenaâs death to win an
argument. âI left that out of my profile as well. Iâm sorry if I wasted your valuable time, but this is hard for me.â
Lyndsay froze, her hand buried in her purse. âIâm sorry. Your profile said you were divorced.â
âI know.â I didnât want her to be sorry; I resented her even knowing.
Lyndsay nodded understanding. âWhy donât you go ahead? Iâll wait for the bill.â
Relieved, I thanked her, pushed two twenties of my own into her hand and rushed for the exit.
The wind dug into me as I opened the doorâa wind more appropriate for
Daven Hiskey, Today I Found Out.com