Chapter Ten
Luke
Ringing the doorbell, I inhaled deeply, trying to do some yoga-like chanting to calm my racing mind—not that I knew yoga-like chants.
What was I doing? This girl was out of my league. From that first encounter over Floyd, I was drawn to her. I knew then, though, that she wouldn’t give me the time of day. Still, when I’d seen her a second time at the gym, I felt like I couldn’t ignore it. The way she looked, the way she looked at me. The sheer fact that choices or circumstances or fate brought us together a second time—it seemed like it was a sign, even if I wasn’t one to believe in them. It was unexpected, and I still didn’t quite believe it was true. But we’d find out tonight. It was our chance.
The door opened, and I tried to orient myself. I expected to see Lila or even her dad. But as I extended the bouquet of yellow roses, I was shocked to see an elderly woman in a huge sunhat.
“Why, these are gorgeous!” she said, taking them from me. “You do know yellow roses are for friendship, though, right?”
I just stared, not sure how to respond.
“Grandma Claire, those are for me,” a voice echoed from down the hallway.
“Of course, dear. I’ll just put them in water.” The elderly woman winked at me and hobbled off. When she did, I caught sight of her.
Lila.
She wore a stunning lilac dress, not your typical first-date red or black. I liked the softness of it. I liked the simplicity of it, like she wasn’t trying too hard.
“Sorry about Grandma Claire. Ever since Grandpa died, she’s a little bit man obsessed. I’m pretty sure I’ll never see those flowers again, but they’re beautiful. Thank you.”
I smiled, feeling like the yoga chanting to calm myself down wasn’t needed. I liked her sincerity. I liked how even in jeans and a Grateful Dead T-shirt, I felt just right. It felt like with this girl, there weren’t any pretenses or acting.
“You ready?” she asked, and I said I was, leading the beautiful blonde to my beat-up truck, wondering if I could really pull this off.
Wondering if Luke Bowman was finally going to get the girl, a girl he clearly didn’t deserve but was already mad about anyway.
“So how’s Floyd?” she asked when we got in the car after I explained how to jiggle the passenger door handle just right to open it.
“He’s great. A gorgeous vet fixed him right up, and he’s going to be good as new now.”
“Glad to hear it. He’s such a nice cat.”
“He is. So do you like Chinese?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“Great. There’s this little buffet on the outskirts of town I was thinking we could try. Nothing fancy,” I admitted, wondering now if this had been a mistake. A girl like Lila probably liked fine dining.
“Fancy isn’t my thing,” she said, and I believed her, her blue eyes sparkling as she reached for the radio and flipped it to the country station. “Oh, and I’m really sorry, but I had to bring my pager. I’m on call tonight. Hopefully no one needs me, and Dr. Osgood is on call, too. But just in case.”
I grinned, turning to her at a stop sign. “Are you sure that isn’t your emergency exit plan? You know, in case you decide I’m creepy or boring?”
She shrugged. “A girl has to plan ahead for these things, right?”
“Yeah, I can’t blame you. But I promise I won’t bore you or be creepier than I can help.”
“Sounds promising.”
“I do what I can.”
We pulled up to the restaurant, and Lila jumped out of the car. “I love Sesame chicken. I haven’t had it forever.”
“Well, date’s over. I only date girls who like General Tso’s. I’m particular.”
“I don’t think you have an emergency pager as an excuse, so looks like you can’t back out,” she said as I held the door to the restaurant open for her.
I smiled at our easy banter. That was what I’d noticed about her from our first meeting. It was easy. It was like I’d known her for years, like we’d been together forever. There were no first-date niceties or discussions about the weather. There was no pressure to talk about the family or careers or anything. It was just us, a guy and a girl, going for Chinese food and having fun doing it.
We got into the restaurant and ordered, chatting about Henry and Floyd. She showed me a few dozen pictures of her mastiff, but I didn’t mind. I liked her enthusiasm. Plus, I’d always been a little obsessed with animals too… although cats were my pet of choice.
When the food came steaming hot and we were ready to dig in, a loud beeping echoed.
“Shit,” she muttered. She looked down at the number and then picked up her cell phone. After a few minutes of conversation, she turned to me, looking nearly teary-eyed. “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, Jesus. I thought I was being perfectly uncreepy,” I said, pretending to be exasperated. “Was it the chopsticks joke?”
“No, seriously. I feel awful. I’m having a good time. But there’s an emergency on its way to the office. A car wreck apparently. I have to get back. I feel awful.”
“It’s fine. I get it.”
“It’s not fine. I wanted to eat my Sesame chicken,” she said, pouting as she looked at the platter.
“Oh, so it wasn’t about me?” I asked, flagging down a waiter and asking if we could get to-go containers quickly due to an emergency.
She smiled, gathering her things as I headed to the cashier to pay the bill. “Of course not,” she said. “I only saved your cat, stalked you at the gym, and flirted with you to get some free Chinese.”
“Well, mission accomplished,” I said, teasing as I handed over a twenty to the cashier and then grabbed the to-go containers the waiter graciously had filled for us. We hurriedly grabbed the food and dashed to my car as I floored it toward the vet office.
“I’m really sorry again,” she said when we got there and she dove out of the car.
“Rain check?” I asked.
She nodded, thanking me again as she rushed into the building with her Chinese food. When the door closed, I sighed, pulling out of the vet office parking lot.
I knew the emergency was real, but a piece of me wondered if I’d see her again. Maybe she didn’t think I was creepy, but I still worried I’d be filed away into the “that was sort of fun” file.
Hours later, though, as I sat watching reruns with Floyd, an empty Chinese food container on the coffee table, my phone rang.
“Hey, I’m sorry again. I just wanted to apologize for bailing.”
“It’s okay. Did you handle the emergency?”
“Yeah, we saved the dog. He had a few broken bones, but he’s going to be fine. I’m home now, safe and sound.”
I tapped out a rhythm on the couch armrest, wondering if I should be bold.
I decided to go for it. “So, since the night’s still young and we’re still relatively young, I was wondering if I could cash in that rain check.”
“When? Now?” she asked, not sounding off-put, just surprised.
“Yeah. There’s this cool place downtown that I just discovered. It’s amazing.”
“Luke, I’d love to, but I just had a shower and my hair is soaking wet. I’m in my pajamas and not really presentable.”
“Okay, is this a beeper kind of excuse, like to avoid going out, or is this serious?”
“No, I’m serious. I’ll Snapchat you if you want proof.”
“I believe you. But listen, the place we’re going is low-key. You can even go in your pajamas. I’ll pick you up in ten.”
I hung up before she could protest, feeling emboldened.
When I pulled in front of her house ten minutes later, she was waiting for me on the front porch of her house. Her hair was wet, but she was wearing jeans and a nice top.
“No pajamas?” I asked.
“I thought that might be a little too low-key. The wet hair is bad enough. I look like a drowned rat.”
“You look perfect,” I said, meaning it. We drove on, Lila telling me about the emergency. It was like we hadn’t skipped a beat.
We pulled up to the downtown area, and I parked the car.
When we hopped out, we stood in front of the lime-green building, the light-up sign for Dot’s Doughnuts blinking.
“Doughnuts? Now?” she asked, looking suspiciously at me.
“Oh, no. Please tell me you’re not one of those calorie-counting kind of girls.”
“Hardly. But I’ve never heard of this place. Are they still open?”
I looked at the sign, then my phone. “For another twenty minutes.”
“Well, then let’s go. Get a move on it.”
Inside, an elderly lady smiled. “Hey, I’m Dot. Are you two lovebirds here for some doughnuts? We’ve got all kinds of gourmet specialty flavors.”
Looking like a kid in a toy store, Lila walked down the row of bakery cases, staring at the flavors, shouting out “Tutti-Frutti” and “Mocha Latte.”
“These look amazing,” she proclaimed. “I don’t know what to get.”
“Let me pick for you. Let’s see if I can pick one you’d like,” I said, and she smiled.
“Deal. But if I hate it, no second date,” she announced, heading to claim a table in the corner. Dot smiled at me.
“You better choose wisely,” Dot whispered. Her soft yellow sweatshirt read World’s Best Grandma.
“Any recommendations?” I asked, feeling the pressure.
“Yes. The peanut-butter glazed have been flying off the shelves. I’ve got three left. Simple, understated… but amazing. Nothing fancy.”
“Nothing fancy is exactly right,” I said, as Dot packed up the three peanut-butter doughnuts and I paid her.
“We’ll just eat and leave,” I said, but Dot waved a hand.
“You two take all the time you need. I have to clean up anyway. Take some time to win the lady over. You two are so adorable together.”
I grinned and thanked her, heading back to the table.
“So, Luke Bowman, are you going to wow me enough to make me want more?” Lila raised an eyebrow at me.
I stared at her confidently. “Oh, yes. You’re going to want more.”
I slid the plate of doughnuts toward her.
“All three peanut butter?”
“I’m that confident you’ll love it, that I bought you one, me one, and an extra.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
“Why?” I asked.
“I’m allergic.”
I paused, wondering how my luck could be so bad. Then I noticed the corners of Lila’s lips forming into a smile.
“Just kidding.”
“Come on, give a guy a break.” I shook my head, taking in her gorgeous smile as she beamed at her ability to fool me.
Lila reached for a doughnut, still smirking.
She winked at me before carefully taking a bite. After a moment, her eyes closed, and she let out an audible groan that made me tighten a little inside.
“Delicious,” she said, smiling.
We sat in the corner of Dot’s that night, picking up the conversation right where we’d left off. When we each finished our doughnut, we grabbed the third one and split it in half.
“You’re going to ruin my figure,” she complained as she shoveled in her half of the third doughnut.
You’re going to ruin me, I thought, staring at the blonde-haired woman who had, in the course of one night, sucked me into her world.
Sitting across from her, I realized without a doubt this girl was different, so different, than the women I’d dated before. She was wholesome and sweet, but she had a side of sass. She wasn’t the dull, sickeningly agreeable girl I always pictured a “bring home to Mom” kind of girl would be. She was a balance of serious and fun, of kind and confident.
As we walked out the door into the summer night, saying good night to Dot and promising to be back, I turned to her right there.
First date or not, I didn’t want to play by the rules with her. I couldn’t.
I grabbed her hand on the corner by Dot’s Doughnuts, the streetlight shining down on us, and I pulled her to me, almost like a dance move. When she was close enough, I tilted my head and bent down, claiming her mouth with mine, parting her lips with my tongue until I was sure she was feeling the electricity too.
We kissed under that streetlight, the taste of peanut-butter doughnuts swirling around us, but we didn’t care. It was with that kiss we knew we were both goners, our hearts no longer our own.
***
It was our first kiss and our first date, but it wouldn’t be our last. We’d kiss on that street corner countless more times over the years. We’d go to Dot’s once a week, sometimes with Henry in tow, to get exactly three peanut-butter glazed doughnuts. We’d, in many ways, memorialize and commemorate that first strange but strangely perfect date.
Singing my dark song under that very streetlight, watching Lila walk into our place with someone who isn’t me, my heart snaps a little. Maybe a lot. I think about how I had no way of knowing that night that I wouldn’t be enough, and that I might win a second date, but I wouldn’t win forever.
I don’t know if Lila saw me, but I don’t know how she couldn’t. Still, it was like I was a ghost. In many ways, I am. I’m just a haunting from her past now, the new guy leading her to the future.
Dot strolls out, a plate in hand. “Were you really going to sing that sad song out here and not stop in for a pick-me-up? I thought I was your favorite baker in town.”
I smile, reaching out for the plate before leaning in for a hug. “I’m sorry, Dot. I’ve just been.… Well, things have been shitty.”
“I know. Lila filled me in a while back. And I saw her come strolling in with some new guy. Heard you were out here and knew it couldn’t be easy.”
“It isn’t. Thanks for the voice mail the other week, by the way. I just couldn’t bring myself to talk about it.”
“I understand. Sort of.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, setting my guitar down so I can enjoy the doughnut.
“I don’t understand what you two are doing, in truth. You’re both miserable.”
I shrug. “Lila can’t be that miserable. She’s here with someone new already.”
“Oh, stop. Trust me. She’s not happy.”
“She looked pretty smiley to me.”
“It’s her fake smile,” Dot says, shaking her head.
“How do you know?”
“Because she never smiled like that for you,” she says, staring at me. “Never. Not even on the first date.”
“Well, apparently I was her fake smile inspiration then.”
“No way. What you two had was real.”
“How do you know, Dot?”
“Wow, really? Saying I don’t know what I’m talking about? I’ll remember that the next time you call in for a delivery.” Dot’s hands are on her hips, and I get a vision of the formidable force she must have been in her prime. Hell, she still is a formidable force. I grin at her, and she eases up her stance.
“I’m not saying I don’t trust you. I’m just saying I don’t know anything anymore.”
“You’ve got that right. Because if you did, you’d be in there fighting for that girl.”
“I’ve tried. It’s too late.”
“It’s never too late. You young kids think a few weeks is too late. Honey, my Louie and I were apart for two straight years when he was deployed. Thought we were done. I’d thrown in the towel. But you know what? We weren’t done. It wasn’t too late. Did you know I was engaged to another man? Louie stopped the wedding, actually. Came in like a maniac and stopped the wedding minutes before I said my vows after we’d barely seen each other in years. So don’t tell me it’s too late because Lila has some stupid date with that guy.”
I look at Dot incredulously. “Wait, so you almost didn’t end up with Louie?”
“Almost doesn’t matter. What matters is what actually happens. I will advise you, though, not to wait until that close to the wire. Louie took quite a few punches that day.” She smiles now, chuckling at the memory.
“You never told us that story,” I say, finishing the doughnut. Dot had told Lila and me so many stories about her life with Louie and their three children, but she’d never told us the wedding story.
Dot shrugs. “You didn’t need to hear it until now.”
I smile at the woman’s wisdom. She’s such a smart lady… and she makes damn good doughnuts. “Thanks, Dot. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Do more than think about it,” she demands, winking before heading back in.
I pack up my guitar and leave the glowing light of the streetlight where it all began and where, tonight, all hope has been snuffed out. I walk down the dark street alone, reminded of how lonely life is without her, and reminded of how much of a damn idiot I was to think I, Luke Bowman, could change enough to keep her.
***
“Easy, buddy. It looks like you’ve got an axe to grind with that tile,” Dean says, taking off his sunglasses to get a better look at me as he straddles the top of the roof. I’m perched near the bottom, breaking up the hot roofing tiles like I’m going to tear down the house.
Maybe it’s seeing Lila last night, maybe it’s jealousy. I don’t know. But I woke up this morning feeling angry.
“I want to get the job done,” I mutter, not even in the mood for Dean’s easy humor.
“Well, why don’t you take a break. I don’t need to have an injury to deal with today.”
I keep chipping away, standing to get a better angle. “I’m fine.”
And, as if Dean is a warlock with prophetic abilities, it is then that my boot slips, and I realize I should’ve taken a break.
***
“Well, looks like you’re getting more than the ten-minute break I was offering,” Dean says six hours later as I hobble out of the ER, the crutches already digging into my armpits. The anger has dissipated into sheer dejection.
So this is what rock bottom feels like.
“Yeah, just what I need. Well, looks like I’ll get to play some Xbox for the next few months while I’m out.” And also sulk in Evan’s apartment, self-pity radiating from me already.
Dean slaps my back as we head to his truck. “Chin up. Think of it as a restart. Look, while you’re on disability, you’ll get more time to work on your music, right?”
“Lot of good that’ll do,” I mutter, feeling exhausted.
“Hey, come on. This funk you’re in isn’t like you. Where’s the go-get-it, humorous guy we all love?”
“Don’t get all mushy and sentimental on me. I don’t want a motivational speech right now,” I grumble.
“Well, you’re getting one. Listen, take some time. Pour that heartbreak into your songs. I know you think Lila was what set you straight, but I knew you before her. Sure, she helped you get your wild ass together. She was good for you. But even before Lila, you weren’t all that bad, you know. You’ve always had spirit and confidence. You need to find that again. If you and Lila aren’t meant to be, then pour that energy into your music and jumpstart your career. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. It’s pathetic.”
I exhale. “You’re right. It’s time for me to man up. I’m going to have to figure it out without her and without my right leg, I guess.”
“You know what they say about rock bottom,” Dean says as he slaps on the steering wheel to the beat of the rock and roll song blasting on the radio.
“That there’s nowhere to go but up.”
“No. Screw that cheesy shit. My dad always said rock bottom hurts like hell when you hit, but sometimes it knocks some sense into you. Now, I’m not an expert, but maybe that broken leg will be a good reminder for the next few months that moping about Lila isn’t going to get you anywhere except on your ass. So get writing some songs, get yourself together, and we’ll go out and find you some women to have a little fun with.”
“Maybe,” I say, looking out the window as we near Evan’s—correction, my—apartment.
“Get your sorry ass out of here and go start making a plan. I’ll check in on you later this week.”
“Thanks, Dean. For everything.”
“You’re welcome. Now I need to get going. I’m sure the other guys on the crew have been screwing around all day, and we’ve got a roof to get done. Not all of us can leap off the roof to get out of work, you know.”
I shake my head and grin before hobbling up the steps—very precariously—and heading into the apartment to sit and think.