bar and let some guy buy me a drink. I was alone, I was missing the
Baumgartners, and I was looking for any way I could to remedy that. If it meant
getting drunk and bringing another strange guy home, then that was what I was
going to do.
I
sat at the bar, sipping my mojito, and hunted the place with my gaze. I skipped
over the couples. They were easy to spot. Not because they were kissing or
dancing close, but because they stood near each other, almost touching,
familiar, but didn’t talk. Their eyes were mostly on other people. I ignored
the dancers too. Most had already found a willing victim for the night’s main
event. Instead, I scanned the periphery. I was looking for a wallflower, a shy
one, someone who would jump at the chance to go home in my Saturn and do just
what I told him to.
Several
guys approached while I sat there, but I rebuffed them. If they were confident
enough to come up to me, they weren’t what I was looking for. I went through
two more drinks—paid for by two other guys—and finally decided to
take a break and headed to the restroom. I smiled, remembering standing in line
with Mrs. B. The line wasn’t as long tonight.
When
I came out of the stall to wash my hands, there was only one sink empty. I
squeezed in, pumping pink suds into my palms, completely oblivious to my
surroundings until she spoke.
“Hi,
Gretchen.”
I
looked up, meeting her gaze in the mirror. She was putting on mascara and
looked incredible.
“Hi,
Ronnie.”
I
thought that would be it. My heart was in my throat. I grabbed some paper
towel, expecting her to be gone when I turned around. But she was there. Right
behind me. Close enough to touch. And I wanted to touch her. God help me, I
did.
“Can
we talk?”
“Here?”
I looked around the bathroom, dubious.
“Out
there?” she suggested, wrinkling her nose. Of course, that was out. Too much
noise and confusion. Then she looked at me again and grabbed my hand. It was
soft and warm and familiar and instantly broke my heart. “Got your car?”
I
nodded. “Won’t Vince miss you?”
“I’m
here with friends. Let me tell them. I’ll meet you right outside.”
Of
course I thought she was going to ditch me. I shivered outside—still sweaty
from all the body heat and I hadn’t brought a coat—and figured I’d wait
for fifteen minutes and then go home and lick my wounds. But that isn’t what
happened at all. Ronnie showed up, just like she said she would, shivering
herself, although she’d been smart enough to bring a jacket. Her skirt was
almost as short as mine.
“Let’s
go, I’m freezing.” Ronnie’s teeth chattered all the way to the parking lot. I
unlocked the Saturn’s doors and we got in. I started the car to turn on the
heat. Late November in Michigan was cold—cold enough to snow, although it
wasn’t.
“Better?”
I asked, directing the vents in her direction as the air turned from cool to
lukewarm. It wouldn’t be long and it would heat up.
“Thanks.”
She gave me a shy, heartbreaking smile. “So… how are you?”
How
was I?
“Good.”
Lying seemed to be the best course of action until I knew what she wanted.
Because I was sure she wanted something. “So what’s up?”
“Oh…
nothing.” Seems we were both into the lying thing.
“How’s
Vince?”
“Um…
good.” She shrugged, tucking her dark hair behind her ear, gaze scanning the
parking lot.
“Still
seeing him?”
“Yeah.”
She nodded, looking down at her hands in her lap. “Listen. Gretchen, I just
wanted to tell you… I’m sorry.”
“Right.
You said that before.” I leaned back in the driver’s seat, remembering how it
had all ended. She’d tearfully confessed and apologized profusely when I told
her I’d seen her and Vince together. Then, in a stunning turn of events, at
least on my end, she had been both shocked and horrified by my idea of sharing
him. In the end, she’d been the one angry at me, instead of the other way
around.
“I
know,
Baumgartners, and I was looking for any way I could to remedy that. If it meant
getting drunk and bringing another strange guy home, then that was what I was
going to do.
I
sat at the bar, sipping my mojito, and hunted the place with my gaze. I skipped
over the couples. They were easy to spot. Not because they were kissing or
dancing close, but because they stood near each other, almost touching,
familiar, but didn’t talk. Their eyes were mostly on other people. I ignored
the dancers too. Most had already found a willing victim for the night’s main
event. Instead, I scanned the periphery. I was looking for a wallflower, a shy
one, someone who would jump at the chance to go home in my Saturn and do just
what I told him to.
Several
guys approached while I sat there, but I rebuffed them. If they were confident
enough to come up to me, they weren’t what I was looking for. I went through
two more drinks—paid for by two other guys—and finally decided to
take a break and headed to the restroom. I smiled, remembering standing in line
with Mrs. B. The line wasn’t as long tonight.
When
I came out of the stall to wash my hands, there was only one sink empty. I
squeezed in, pumping pink suds into my palms, completely oblivious to my
surroundings until she spoke.
“Hi,
Gretchen.”
I
looked up, meeting her gaze in the mirror. She was putting on mascara and
looked incredible.
“Hi,
Ronnie.”
I
thought that would be it. My heart was in my throat. I grabbed some paper
towel, expecting her to be gone when I turned around. But she was there. Right
behind me. Close enough to touch. And I wanted to touch her. God help me, I
did.
“Can
we talk?”
“Here?”
I looked around the bathroom, dubious.
“Out
there?” she suggested, wrinkling her nose. Of course, that was out. Too much
noise and confusion. Then she looked at me again and grabbed my hand. It was
soft and warm and familiar and instantly broke my heart. “Got your car?”
I
nodded. “Won’t Vince miss you?”
“I’m
here with friends. Let me tell them. I’ll meet you right outside.”
Of
course I thought she was going to ditch me. I shivered outside—still sweaty
from all the body heat and I hadn’t brought a coat—and figured I’d wait
for fifteen minutes and then go home and lick my wounds. But that isn’t what
happened at all. Ronnie showed up, just like she said she would, shivering
herself, although she’d been smart enough to bring a jacket. Her skirt was
almost as short as mine.
“Let’s
go, I’m freezing.” Ronnie’s teeth chattered all the way to the parking lot. I
unlocked the Saturn’s doors and we got in. I started the car to turn on the
heat. Late November in Michigan was cold—cold enough to snow, although it
wasn’t.
“Better?”
I asked, directing the vents in her direction as the air turned from cool to
lukewarm. It wouldn’t be long and it would heat up.
“Thanks.”
She gave me a shy, heartbreaking smile. “So… how are you?”
How
was I?
“Good.”
Lying seemed to be the best course of action until I knew what she wanted.
Because I was sure she wanted something. “So what’s up?”
“Oh…
nothing.” Seems we were both into the lying thing.
“How’s
Vince?”
“Um…
good.” She shrugged, tucking her dark hair behind her ear, gaze scanning the
parking lot.
“Still
seeing him?”
“Yeah.”
She nodded, looking down at her hands in her lap. “Listen. Gretchen, I just
wanted to tell you… I’m sorry.”
“Right.
You said that before.” I leaned back in the driver’s seat, remembering how it
had all ended. She’d tearfully confessed and apologized profusely when I told
her I’d seen her and Vince together. Then, in a stunning turn of events, at
least on my end, she had been both shocked and horrified by my idea of sharing
him. In the end, she’d been the one angry at me, instead of the other way
around.
“I
know,
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