her something nice. Maybe a fancy rocking chair or a gift certificate to her favorite Chinese place. They deliver, and I know she won’t want to cook for a while,” I said.
“Right,” he said. “That sounds good. Do you want Chinese?”
“When?” I asked.
“Tonight,” he said. “I can swing by and pick you up.”
“I’d love to,” I said, and he interrupted me before I could finish the sentence.
“But,” he said. “But, you’re busy? But, you don’t really want to? There’s always a ‘but,’ isn’t there?”
“No,” I said. “I’m just tired. I’d love to go out, but I’m tired. Would you like to pick some up and come eat on the couch with me, have a lazy dinner?”
The silence that came through the phone spoke volumes.
“It’s fine,” I said, quickly. “Why don’t we go out another time? Or I’ll come out if you want me to, I just need to drink some coffee.”
“No, don’t worry about it,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your lazy evening.”
He laughed cheerfully, but I wasn’t entirely convinced.
“I’ll see you on Friday,” he said. “Pick you up at seven?”
I agreed, and hung up.
I headed from the bedroom to the kitchen, opening the fridge and trying to figure out what I could have for dinner.
I had a chicken breast and some broccoli, and started some pasta to boil while the meat cooked. That should give me lunch for the rest of the week, too.
As I cooked dinner, I hummed aloud and thought about the meal I’d eat with Justin on Friday night. It would probably be Chinese, since I mentioned it, but he might surprise me with something else. I never knew quite what I was getting, and I enjoyed the novelty, most nights.
I just wished sometimes to date someone who wanted to just curl up on the couch with me every once in a while and watch a movie, or read a book. Someone who wanted to spend time with me and relax, not having to go out all the time. I couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t really want to be a part of my life. He had barely seen my apartment, and I was only at his when we were sleeping - or having sex, I thought.
The sex was wonderful, and the restaurants he took me to were generally spectacular.
I didn’t really have anything to complain about.
I felt guilty at wanting more. Justin brought me flowers and remembered my birthday - with a very expensive necklace - and was pretty much a model boyfriend.
Friday afternoon, I had one of the worst visits to a ranch I could imagine. Not only did the owner blow me off and call me “little lady,” not only did I trip over my own feet and land in a cow pie, but I made a mistake on the paperwork that he caught.
Sarah told me repeatedly that every single person makes mistakes, and I was still good at my job. She let me off work an hour early to scrub off the cow poop and get prettied up for my date.
Even though I (mostly) believed her that everyone made mistakes, it still stung that it had to happen in front of that man.
By the time Justin picked me up outside my apartment building, though, I felt better about life. No longer smelling like manure will do that to a girl.
I had changed from my work jeans and blouse into a fun little sundress with high heels. I even blew out my hair for the first time in months, and spent extra time with my makeup. I was looking good and feeling good.
“Wow,” he said as I got into the car. “You look amazing. What did you do with your hair?”
“I just took a little extra time on it after work,” I said, off-handedly. “Sarah let me off an hour early to primp.”
“It hasn’t looked that good since we started dating,” he said. “You look completely hot. I can’t take you out to Chinese looking like that, I’ve gotta take you out somewhere more fun.”
I laughed and elbowed him gently over the