As I was driving home my thoughts were on that darn flashing red light on my cell phone. I really didn’t think I’d hear from Goose again. It’s been about three weeks and no further word. It felt done to me. Tammy however, has been telling me
“I don’t think it’s done.”
When I’d ask why she felt that way her comment was always the same.
“I don’t know, I just don’t think it is.”
Well that seemed rather ambiguous. I left. Nothing more to say. Life moves on. Until today at least. Dang it Tammy! I have a date. I have dinner to make. Dessert to make. I don’t want to read the message. I don’t want to look. My stomach began feeling unsettled and I could feel my heart beating faster. (Oh for crying out loud!) I was mad at my reaction. I wanted it to be done. I missed my corner. Darn it. (Big sigh) Turn the corner three more times and pull into my apartment. Then, all disgusted, I picked up my cell phone and I looked at the message.
The screen read, “You left things here.”
I think my heart stopped for a moment. I realized he was calling me out. Right at this very moment, he’s sitting there waiting for me to reply. So, I didn’t.
Instead, I carried the groceries inside and began cooking. I was so rattled that I didn’t call Tammy or Michele. I didn’t want to deal with this now. So I chose not to. I got out a big bowl and began mixing up the meatballs. Chopped some onion, shook in this spice and that spice. (I hope Archer doesn’t have distinguishing tastes.. I’m not certain what I was shaking into the mixture.) I got out a pan and turned the burner on low. I cracked an egg and added the bread crumbs. Then I stuck my hands in there and squeezed the heck out of that meat mixture. Guess you could say I have a little bit of anger inside the recesses of my mind. It felt good to have a task to do. I rolled the meat between both hands until I had a pan full of round meatballs browning. (There is NOTHING that I might have left behind that had any value at all. He could just throw it all away if it bothered him.) I turned the meatballs to brown the other side. (What other side, it’s a ball!) Once they were browned, I made the gravy for them to bake in. Next I peeled potatoes. Now keep in mind that there are only two of us eating dinner. With my mind otherwise occupied, I didn’t stop peeling til I had five done.
Fortunately by the time I had the dessert made, I was able to refocus my thoughts onto Archer and the evening ahead. By the time I changed clothes and did my hair and make up, Goose’s text was finally set aside. Archer called to let me know he was leaving his house and we coordinated the time I’d meet him to bring him to my apartment. I began getting excited to see him. We had such a fun time last night. I was hoping for a repeat.
Archer beat me there this time. I pulled in and stopped next to his car. He scurried around to get in my car… once inside, he handed me a single red rose. This man.. did the exact thing I needed at this moment. He had gone some place during the day to buy me a simple token of affection. He had thought of me. I lifted the rose to my nose and as I smelled its sweet scent I caught my reflection in the visor mirror. Bright blue eyes, a scarlet red rose, and soft white skin glowing from the street light gleaming in the window. His gesture was sincere. I smiled and thanked him for being so thoughtful. We fastened our seatbelts and I drove a few blocks to my apartment. Archer followed me inside and up the stairs. The aroma of dinner met him at the top step.
I gave him the two-minute tour and we ended in the kitchen. I cut the end of my rose and placed it in a small crystal bud vase on the table where we ate. The creamy smooth gravy now coating the tender meatballs, the buttery whipped mashed potatoes and parslied fingerling carrots joined us at the table. I hardly noticed the meal though as we ate.. Archer seems anxious to talk with me about things. Life things. To have someone to share with. I’ve been told that I’m easy to talk to. Possibly a job hazard. But the conversation flows back and forth all through dinner. It wasn’t until we arrived at the movie theater eight miles away that we stopped talking. And only then because the lights had gone down in the auditorium and the previews had begun. A connection was budding here between Archer and I. He reassured me of that when he took my hand and held it softly until the movie ended. Another very nice evening with Archer.