pent-up insecurity and angst came out into the open.
“I was young and stupid,” he said. “It was the wrong choice. I know better now.”
“Do you?” I didn’t want to seem too desperate after laying all my cards on the table.
“Let me prove it to you. Come over.”
“I have a paper to write.”
“What happens if you’re a very bad girl and don’t get your work done?”
“Um, well, I could fail.”
“You won’t fail. You’re too smart to fail. I think you should take the night off and come back to my place. I have a record player and some Dylan records.”
“Get out. You do?”
He nodded. “You really got to me that night, you know. You turned me into a fan.”
This kind of thing had never happened to me before. I was not the girl who got hit on, certainly not by guys who told me I made an impression on them. It didn’t happen when I went out to bars—which I almost never did—nor did guys talk to me in my classes and least of all at the store. I owed it to myself to let Jeff flatter me a little more.
“You’ve convinced me. Let’s have cake,” I said. My usually sensible self took the back seat while a flirty side I had entirely forgotten about came out.
“My place?” He asked. “I’m not too far from here.”
“What about my roommate? She’s the one who wanted cake, after all.”
“Let’s pick her up one of those frozen chocolate ones and drop it off on the way.”
Chapter Two
Jeff carried the frozen cake to the checkout. He placed it on the black roller along with some whole grain cereal, berries and juice. From the looks of it, he was a sensible eater. I had the carrot cake and my other produce. I tried to pull the chocolate cake into my pile, but Jeff put his hand out to stop me.
“No way. This cake is a fate cake. I’m buying it.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”
I was a little relieved as my student budget wasn’t exactly conducive to multiple desserts.
Outside, Jeff hit a clicker on his key chain and up ahead, I saw a gray sports car flash its amber lights and squeal into the winter evening. He must have been busy since graduation.
“It’s happy to see you,” I said.
“Yeah, Bessie. My loyal companion.”
“So she’s a she?”
“Sure. Why not? I take good care of her,” he said.
He opened the door for me. I got in and wondered what I was doing in Jeff Connoly’s car after dark. This was not what my mother had taught me—that was for sure. She didn’t care for Jeff back then. I wondered how she’d feel now.
As I directed Jeff to my place, I had a strong sense that he was one of the good ones. The guy watched his fiber intake, after all.
“Honey, I’m home,” I called into our basement suite. The entrance was into the kitchen and I knew I had to raise my voice for Savannah to hear me in the living room. “And I’m leaving again.”
“You’re what?” Savannah came to see me.
I handed her the frozen cake. “I met a guy.”
“You did?” She gave me a questioning look that my mother would have approved of. It suggested I was nuts.
“This guy Jeff. We went to high school together,” I said, rather convincingly.
“Well, where is he?”
“Waiting in the car.”
“He has a car?” She shrugged. “Well, then.”
I laughed. Our world was so sparse and frugal that things like cars seemed exotic.
* * * *
When we got to Jeff’s building, he used another clicker to open the parking garage. We entered into an enclosed concrete space. Before long, we were in an elevator. He pressed the number fourteen, just beneath the penthouse suite.
He opened the door for me and turned on the lights. Immediately, chill music played like we were at a lounge. The lighting was soft, mostly indirect lights that shone onto paintings and bookshelves and a gorgeous cabinet. This place was slick.
“Whoa. What do you do for a living?” I asked, perhaps tactlessly and too soon.
“I’m an
“I was young and stupid,” he said. “It was the wrong choice. I know better now.”
“Do you?” I didn’t want to seem too desperate after laying all my cards on the table.
“Let me prove it to you. Come over.”
“I have a paper to write.”
“What happens if you’re a very bad girl and don’t get your work done?”
“Um, well, I could fail.”
“You won’t fail. You’re too smart to fail. I think you should take the night off and come back to my place. I have a record player and some Dylan records.”
“Get out. You do?”
He nodded. “You really got to me that night, you know. You turned me into a fan.”
This kind of thing had never happened to me before. I was not the girl who got hit on, certainly not by guys who told me I made an impression on them. It didn’t happen when I went out to bars—which I almost never did—nor did guys talk to me in my classes and least of all at the store. I owed it to myself to let Jeff flatter me a little more.
“You’ve convinced me. Let’s have cake,” I said. My usually sensible self took the back seat while a flirty side I had entirely forgotten about came out.
“My place?” He asked. “I’m not too far from here.”
“What about my roommate? She’s the one who wanted cake, after all.”
“Let’s pick her up one of those frozen chocolate ones and drop it off on the way.”
Chapter Two
Jeff carried the frozen cake to the checkout. He placed it on the black roller along with some whole grain cereal, berries and juice. From the looks of it, he was a sensible eater. I had the carrot cake and my other produce. I tried to pull the chocolate cake into my pile, but Jeff put his hand out to stop me.
“No way. This cake is a fate cake. I’m buying it.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”
I was a little relieved as my student budget wasn’t exactly conducive to multiple desserts.
Outside, Jeff hit a clicker on his key chain and up ahead, I saw a gray sports car flash its amber lights and squeal into the winter evening. He must have been busy since graduation.
“It’s happy to see you,” I said.
“Yeah, Bessie. My loyal companion.”
“So she’s a she?”
“Sure. Why not? I take good care of her,” he said.
He opened the door for me. I got in and wondered what I was doing in Jeff Connoly’s car after dark. This was not what my mother had taught me—that was for sure. She didn’t care for Jeff back then. I wondered how she’d feel now.
As I directed Jeff to my place, I had a strong sense that he was one of the good ones. The guy watched his fiber intake, after all.
“Honey, I’m home,” I called into our basement suite. The entrance was into the kitchen and I knew I had to raise my voice for Savannah to hear me in the living room. “And I’m leaving again.”
“You’re what?” Savannah came to see me.
I handed her the frozen cake. “I met a guy.”
“You did?” She gave me a questioning look that my mother would have approved of. It suggested I was nuts.
“This guy Jeff. We went to high school together,” I said, rather convincingly.
“Well, where is he?”
“Waiting in the car.”
“He has a car?” She shrugged. “Well, then.”
I laughed. Our world was so sparse and frugal that things like cars seemed exotic.
* * * *
When we got to Jeff’s building, he used another clicker to open the parking garage. We entered into an enclosed concrete space. Before long, we were in an elevator. He pressed the number fourteen, just beneath the penthouse suite.
He opened the door for me and turned on the lights. Immediately, chill music played like we were at a lounge. The lighting was soft, mostly indirect lights that shone onto paintings and bookshelves and a gorgeous cabinet. This place was slick.
“Whoa. What do you do for a living?” I asked, perhaps tactlessly and too soon.
“I’m an
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