he talked.
“You’re doing everything you can right now. Your mom knows you love her, of course she knows. And you’ll be there for her when she really needs you.” Az spoke with quiet conviction as she echoed his mother’s sentiment that everything would be okay. He relaxed and when the waitress approached again, scowling, Az ordered pie, apple, warmed with a scoop of ice cream and two forks. As they ate, he told her stories of his mom helping with his speech courses in college. She was a champion debater, and a marvelous cook. Az responded with an anecdote about her own mother, nitpicking her at some awards banquet, and the contrast made Ross appreciate his own parents even more.
“I told Dani that I wouldn’t be going to her parents’ this year for Christmas,” he said. “We switch holidays, her family for one, mine for the other, but because of this, I want to be home. Her parents live in Lexington, and they’re nice and all, but…”
“It’s understandable, you wanting to be close to your mom.” Az waited for him to continue.
“Apparently, not that understandable.” Ross huffed, and looked out the window. His breath fogged up the chilly pane, obscuring the street outside. Dani’s parents were older, and doted on both their children, but especially the younger son, Greg. It was always a chore for Ross to tolerate the constant babying of a grown man. “Dani’s brother Greg is a center of the universe type, and God forbid anyone who messes with his plans.”
Az’s mouth twitched.
“A man with a plan. Go figure.”
“It’s not like that.” Ross stopped. He sounded like a petulant child, whining about having to follow someone else’s game-plan. “Yeah, okay. Jeeze. Suppose I am looking for sympathy and understanding.”
“Of course, and I am so sorry about your mom.”
Her words were sincere, all trace of her earlier mirth had disappeared and she watched him intently before looking around the almost empty diner. He wanted her to look at him again. He needed that tether or he’d spin off into space. Her fingers tapped restlessly on the coffee mug until the waitress appeared again and refilled it. She raised her eyes to his and he felt it. That tingle he always seemed to get when she was around.
“About her, Dani. I really don’t have a right to comment. Not sure I should be giving advice anyway.” She looked away. “Given the issues in my own relationship.”
He paused, coffee cup halfway to his mouth, not believing she would blurt it out like that. He licked his lips, took a sip and spoke.
“Still the same issues? You know?”
“Yes, I’ve been walking on eggshells. Everything seems to set him off.” She sat back against the diner booth, her cheekbones stark in the fluorescent lighting. Outside, car headlights passed, reflecting through the window and she blinked against the unwanted light. Her lipstick was faded, naked lips in a worried frown, her hair trimmed an inch or so, since the last time, and the natural curl flicked over her ears in a tease. His fingers extended of their own volition to brush it back. She smiled, and when he realized he was touching her, he retreated, inches from her hand and she turned it, palm up in invitation. He accepted, and held it tight, soaked in her heat from across the table. They ignored the looks from their waitress.
“I was going to call you, or at least text. I guess I figured I shouldn’t bother you with this stuff.”
“You’re not a bother. Not for something like this.” She looked into his eyes and didn’t turn away. “Not for anything really.”
Ross’s breath caught in his throat. His thumb grazed the inside of her wrist, feeling the strong steady beat of her pulse. She broke off and slipped her hand back to her lap.
“Excuse me, I need to ah...” she gestured vaguely and slid out of the booth, walked past him toward the back of the diner.
Coffee cups were full when she returned and he’d taken care of the
“You’re doing everything you can right now. Your mom knows you love her, of course she knows. And you’ll be there for her when she really needs you.” Az spoke with quiet conviction as she echoed his mother’s sentiment that everything would be okay. He relaxed and when the waitress approached again, scowling, Az ordered pie, apple, warmed with a scoop of ice cream and two forks. As they ate, he told her stories of his mom helping with his speech courses in college. She was a champion debater, and a marvelous cook. Az responded with an anecdote about her own mother, nitpicking her at some awards banquet, and the contrast made Ross appreciate his own parents even more.
“I told Dani that I wouldn’t be going to her parents’ this year for Christmas,” he said. “We switch holidays, her family for one, mine for the other, but because of this, I want to be home. Her parents live in Lexington, and they’re nice and all, but…”
“It’s understandable, you wanting to be close to your mom.” Az waited for him to continue.
“Apparently, not that understandable.” Ross huffed, and looked out the window. His breath fogged up the chilly pane, obscuring the street outside. Dani’s parents were older, and doted on both their children, but especially the younger son, Greg. It was always a chore for Ross to tolerate the constant babying of a grown man. “Dani’s brother Greg is a center of the universe type, and God forbid anyone who messes with his plans.”
Az’s mouth twitched.
“A man with a plan. Go figure.”
“It’s not like that.” Ross stopped. He sounded like a petulant child, whining about having to follow someone else’s game-plan. “Yeah, okay. Jeeze. Suppose I am looking for sympathy and understanding.”
“Of course, and I am so sorry about your mom.”
Her words were sincere, all trace of her earlier mirth had disappeared and she watched him intently before looking around the almost empty diner. He wanted her to look at him again. He needed that tether or he’d spin off into space. Her fingers tapped restlessly on the coffee mug until the waitress appeared again and refilled it. She raised her eyes to his and he felt it. That tingle he always seemed to get when she was around.
“About her, Dani. I really don’t have a right to comment. Not sure I should be giving advice anyway.” She looked away. “Given the issues in my own relationship.”
He paused, coffee cup halfway to his mouth, not believing she would blurt it out like that. He licked his lips, took a sip and spoke.
“Still the same issues? You know?”
“Yes, I’ve been walking on eggshells. Everything seems to set him off.” She sat back against the diner booth, her cheekbones stark in the fluorescent lighting. Outside, car headlights passed, reflecting through the window and she blinked against the unwanted light. Her lipstick was faded, naked lips in a worried frown, her hair trimmed an inch or so, since the last time, and the natural curl flicked over her ears in a tease. His fingers extended of their own volition to brush it back. She smiled, and when he realized he was touching her, he retreated, inches from her hand and she turned it, palm up in invitation. He accepted, and held it tight, soaked in her heat from across the table. They ignored the looks from their waitress.
“I was going to call you, or at least text. I guess I figured I shouldn’t bother you with this stuff.”
“You’re not a bother. Not for something like this.” She looked into his eyes and didn’t turn away. “Not for anything really.”
Ross’s breath caught in his throat. His thumb grazed the inside of her wrist, feeling the strong steady beat of her pulse. She broke off and slipped her hand back to her lap.
“Excuse me, I need to ah...” she gestured vaguely and slid out of the booth, walked past him toward the back of the diner.
Coffee cups were full when she returned and he’d taken care of the
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