Rough and Rugged: A Meet Me In Milwaukee Charity Anthology

Chapter Two

Noah

I’m a thirty-four-year-old man who owns his own business. I shouldn’t be this nervous about meeting a woman. This stupid dating app wasn’t my idea. A couple of my buddies got lucky and found wives on it and they wouldn’t stop hounding me until I made an account.

For three months, I half-heartedly scrolled through profiles but never found a connection that made me want to risk the inevitable stilted small talk. Then, one night while I was lying in bed, struggling to fall asleep, Alex’s profile popped up. My finger froze over the dismiss button, my gut screaming, “No! Give this one a shot.”

With more care than I’d given any other profile, I read over every word of her scant bio twice. Instead of sending a “Hey. How are you?” I needed to come up with a semi-intelligent introductory message so she’d give me a shot. In the end, I’d wound up asking her questions about her work, and it just kept rolling from there.

Now I’m trying to figure out what to talk about on our date. My friends thought it would be better if I had some prepped questions and topics so I wouldn’t gape at her like the fish I helped my clients catch.

The pressure to do something romantic pushed me out of my comfort zone, and I suggested we hike up to the “M” and have a picnic. I wanted to do something in Missoula since that’s where she lives and it’s our first time meeting. She’s told me a little bit about her background, so more than anything, I want her to feel comfortable and safe.

At first, my idea sounded like the perfect blend of memorable and reassuring since there are plenty of other people who’ll be making the hike too. It’s public, well-known, and near her work.

But what if the weather goes bad? The insects have been nasty this year. And what do I wear?

It’s a date, so I want to look nice, but the hike is going to be at least an hour, so I also need to be comfortable. Collared shirts are always a good option, and I have a serviceable pair of khaki-colored pants that I very rarely wear.

I have to make a good first impression, and I’m well aware of the assumptions people make before they get to know me. As someone who is nearly six and a half feet tall, full of muscle, and proudly sporting a beard and bad attitude, I can come off as intimidating. That’s the last thing I want to do with Alex.

Before I start trying to tame my beard and get dressed, I text the kid I hired to help set everything up. As strong as I am, I didn’t want pit stains from lugging up a laundry basket full of food and a blanket. A local college kid was only too eager to make an extra forty bucks helping me out.

You need to relax. You’ve taken care of everything. This is going to be okay.

With more care than I’ve taken for some business meetings, I put on my clothes, take a quick damp towel to my boots, and try to find my least sweat-stained hat. At least I don’t have to worry about cleaning up my place. It’s at least a forty-five-minute drive down to Missoula, so there’s no chance we’ll come back here anytime soon.

Not that I plan on rushing things. This is about getting to know each other and finally meeting in person. It’s strange to think of this as our first meeting. Alex and I have talked for hours, and I know her better than some friends I’ve known for years.

I grab my keys, wallet, and phone before heading for my truck. It’s only four o’clock, we’re not meeting until five thirty, but I’m not willing to risk being late. Plus, if I have a few extra minutes, I’m hoping I can give the truck a wash and vacuum.

The drive passes too quickly. When I pull up at the car wash, my fingers are shaking so badly that I almost drop the coins when I try to feed them into the machine. Not wanting to get myself covered in soap and water, I opt for the auto wash and drum my fingers against the steering wheel while the sprayers do the work for me.

Driving around town to kill time is a waste of gas so I head for the parking area near the trail, hoping I’ll find a spot where she can see me when she arrives.

It’s barely five o’clock and the parking lot is about two-thirds full, but there’s a space near the front. I pull the truck in, hop out, and circle around to the back. With a tug, I lower the tailgate so I can sit on it.

I should have got flowers or something.

There’s enough time. I could run to a store and get a bouquet. Something small that might survive waiting in the car until the end of our date.

No. Flowers are a dumb idea, they wilt and die too fast. Chocolates or food that would just melt are equally stupid. I’ve already got the picnic arranged, I just have to hope that will be enough.

“Noah?” A woman’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I startle to attention. Alex is there, standing just in front of me. She’s even more stunning than her pictures. Her voice is different though. The phone took away some of the melodic undertones, flattened it to a more mechanical, less unique version of the real-life version.

I hop down and run my sweaty hands down my pant legs, trying to get rid of some of the clamminess. “Yeah. Hi. Alex?”

“That’s me.” She rocks back on her heels, hands shoved in her shorts pockets while she gazes up at me. “My god, you’re even taller than I thought.”

“I get that a lot.” My smile is rueful, and I automatically slouch, trying to look smaller.

“Oh, don’t do that.” She takes a quick step forward, her hand settling against my arm for a moment before darting away. “My grandma always said not to try to hide yourself because of anyone else.”

Warmth floods me, and I straighten back up. “She sounds like a very wise woman.”

A pretty blush stains Alex’s round cheeks a rosy pink. “I didn’t always realize that, but yes, she was. I’m glad she didn’t give up on me even when I made some dumb decisions.”