New Life by Bonnie Dee

against his. I glanced down at
his jeans-clad knee and my flowered skirt, his battered tennis shoe
and my sleek high heel. I imagined our bare legs entwined together,
then quickly dragged my attention back up to his face.
    “So…” I took a breath, considering all the
things I’d planned to say, then plunged in. “If I’ve seemed at all
standoffish this week, it’s because I needed time to think. I
really enjoyed the other night, but things moved along faster than
I’d expected.”
    Jason nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t expect that
either.”
    That meaning our incredible make-out
session and intimate sharing of confidences. I looked away from his
too-intense eyes and studied the bracelet on my wrist.
    “I’d like to keep seeing you,” I said. “But
it’s going to be hard to find time when we’re on opposite
shifts.”
    He took his arms from the back of the bench
and folded them. “Plus, it’s not like we’re in the same social
circle. I understand.” He sounded as if he were responding to a
“get lost.”
    I touched his arm. “Wait. I’m not saying I
don’t want to get together, only that it’s going to take some
arranging. But I want to, if you want to.”
    “Hell, yeah.” His smile was back.
    “Good. Well... Shall we get something to eat?
The Jamaica wraps at this cart are fantastic.”
    I stood, and Jason rose stiffly. We joined
the queue for the cart and talked a little about the beautiful
weather and the outlook for the coming weekend.
    “Maybe you’d like to join Baby and me at the
dog park on Saturday or Sunday if you have a few hours.”
    “I’d like that. Sunday is best for me. Once
I’m finished on Friday evening, the building’s pretty much
unoccupied until Monday. I just do a few extras on the
weekend.”
    “Do you work through a janitorial service or
on your own?”
    “Through a service. But your building is
pretty much mine. My supervisor checks with management now and then
to make sure everything’s up to their standards. I haven’t had any
complaints. Not recently. At first, I’d forget things, but I’ve got
that under control now.”
    It was too easy to forget that Jason had
issues other than physical. I glanced at his profile and the angry
red scar. “Will your memory keep improving?”
    “Brain injuries are all different. Usually
once you earn back a skill, it’s there to stay, but sometimes
things slip away again, so they tell me.” He looked at me. “I’m
never going to be what you’d call ‘normal’ again, you know.”
    “What’s normal? The last guy I dated, Tim,
had some OCD-type behaviors you wouldn’t believe. We’ve all got
quirks.”
    “I’m quirkier than most.”
    Other than his halting speech, I hadn’t
witnessed much odd behavior. But just then something happened to
illustrate the point. We’d reached the head of the line and placed
our sandwich orders. I offered to buy, but Jason refused.
    “I can pay.”
    Understanding from his tone that this was a
matter of his pride, I backed off. I wasn’t about to have an
argument over twenty bucks. The cart guy gave a total, and Jason
offered a debit card.
    “Sorry. I only take cash.”
    Jason took out several bills and handed them
to the man.
    “You still owe five forty-five.”
    Jason fumbled with his money, seeming
uncertain about the denominations or else how to add up the total
amount. I focused my attention on a nearby flock of pigeons. I
wouldn’t embarrass him by intervening, but I wished he’d let me
pay. I listened as the vendor eventually extracted the right
currency from Jason.
    As we walked away with our food, he said, “I
usually use my card. Money doesn’t make a lot of sense to me
anymore. See, I told you—quirky.” He handed me my wrap.
    I liked that he let go of his pride and let
his sense of humor take over.
    “Not a big deal,” I said, but I wondered how
he managed to pay bills on his own and how often he got ripped off
in situations like the one with the vendor.
    We resumed