Chapter Four #4
I drove to work and hurried inside, taking in the bag of pastries. I hadn’t even had time to eat and now my lunch break was already over, and I hated when my schedule was impacted, and this was my doing, which made it worse.
Dad was at the counter giving Courtney a file. “Oh, there you are,” he said. “Everything okay with the kittens?”
Oh, the kittens . . .
“Yes. They’re feeding well. His concerns are unfounded, as he’s doing a great job.
I offered to help him with inventory and cataloging tonight at the bookstore so I won’t be able to watch our show.
I hope you don’t mind. Here’s your pastry.
” I held out the white paper bag. “I haven’t eaten yet because I didn’t realize the time. ”
Dad took the bag and looked inside, then gave me a warm smile.
It was my favorite of all his smiles. The one that said he was happy and a little proud of me.
I wasn’t sure why he was proud. “It’s just a pastry,” I added. “The one you asked for. The diner was very busy and loud, and I wanted to leave but Winter was with me, so we ordered and he waited outside with me.”
Dad’s smile got warmer, prouder.
“We’ve got a quiet afternoon,” he said. “So come on, let’s go have coffee and you can tell me all about it.” He looked in one of the bags and gave it to Courtney. “For you!”
“Thank you, Deacon. This is so nice of you,” she said. “Perfect timing because I just poured myself some coffee.”
“Dad asked me to get it for you,” I said, and she laughed.
Dad was still watching me, but he spoke to her as he ushered me toward the breakroom. “Give us thirty minutes. We have a lot to talk about.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant. “I just told you everything that happened,” I said, as he sat me at the table.
“What else is there to talk about for thirty minutes? If you’re disappointed I won’t be there to watch our show, I can tell Winter I’ll be there after eight.
I doubt he’ll mind. I told him we watch our show at seven every night, so he won’t be surprised.
In fact, he said after is fine, so if you’d prefer—”
Dad put two plates on the table. “You told him?”
I nodded. “Of course. Dinner at six, Antiques Roadshow at seven.” It wasn’t like I told him I showered in between.
Dad poured two cups of coffee. “And what did he say about that?”
“He said he loves that show, and he prefers the English version.”
“Like you do.” He put a cup in front of me and sat in his seat. “That’s nice.”
“I told him we have a lot in common.”
“You did, huh?”
I nodded again, remembering how his cheeks had been so pink. “Do we still have any of those promotional scarves from the sales representative?”
“Ah, yes. I believe so, why?”
“I think I’d like to give one to Winter. He was cold. He said he has a scarf at home but he didn’t have one with him.”
“I don’t know, Deac. He probably doesn’t want to wear a scarf with the logo of a dog wormer on it.”
I didn’t see why that would matter. “Better than being cold.”
“True.” He put the pastries on our plates. “Eat up.”
I was rather hungry. Now that I no longer had a tummy ache.
Dad’s mind must have gone to the same place as mine. “Feeling better now?” he asked after a few bites.
“Much.”
“It’s normal to be nervous when you’re excited about something but unsure of how it will go.”
I nodded, but my mouth was full so I couldn’t speak.
“Like before you started college. Remember how nervous you were, and that turned out just fine. And Winter waited outside the diner with you? That’s nice of him.”
I nodded again, sipping my coffee to wash down the food. “He said it can be overwhelming. He likes quiet places too.”
Dad smiled at that. “Like a bookstore.”
“Yes.”
“And you offered to help him?”
I nodded. “I asked and then I felt all anxious again. I thought he might say no, but he didn’t. He said he’d like that, and it made my legs feel funny.”
Dad laughed. “I think that’s a good feeling. How do you feel about seeing him again? Nervous and excited?”
My tummy did that twist and swoop thing again and it felt both good and bad at the same time. “Yes. Both.” Then I frowned. “I don’t know, Dad. I know I’m not like other guys.”
“Nope, you’re not. You’re better than other guys.”
That didn’t comfort me like it probably should.
The thing was, I really wanted Winter to like me.
I wanted to spend more time with him. It seemed as if I could talk to him, and he made me feel at ease.
I was comfortable with him, which was a rarity for me.
I knew I was different; my mind didn’t work like most people’s.
I said things out loud most people knew not to say, and I’d been reminded far too many times that I lacked social skills.
My few attempts at dating in college were disasters.
But my parents had raised me to believe that while I might have been different—when the kids in elementary school didn’t want to be my friend—there was nothing wrong with me.
I just walked to a different beat, that’s all.
That’s what my mom had said. I was intelligent, kind, and empathetic, and those were traits any person would be lucky to find in a friend or partner.
I soon learned that real life didn’t always work that way, though.
“What if he doesn’t get me?” I asked. “What if he doesn’t understand?”
Dad gave my hand a quick pat. “Deac, from what you’ve told me, I reckon he already does.”
I pulled my hand back and rubbed away the feeling of his touch, another impulse of mine that I wished I didn’t have. I didn’t like to be touched. And that was something other people struggled with. Prospective dating partners, anyway.
The quirks and lack of social grace were something they could tolerate, but no touching? I’d never even been kissed before, let alone done anything more. I didn’t want to do anything more. Touching was . . . not for me.
And that was something other guys couldn’t deal with.
I had no reason to believe that Winter would be any different.
Dad finished the rest of his pastry and drained his coffee. “Just take it one day at a time, Deac,” he offered. “And remember, having good friends is just as important. If you and Winter turn out to be great friends, then that’s awesome!”
Yes, friends.
I didn’t have many of those either.
Or any, if I were being honest.
I nodded because I knew he was right. Having Winter as my friend would be very nice, and I would normally be very excited about that.
But there was a part of me that wanted more. Even though I could never have it. I would never find someone who walked to the same beat as me. Who understood me and didn’t want more from me than I could give.
“Oh,” Dad said. “Something else I need your help with.”
I appreciated the change of subject, the distraction. “Sure.”
He grinned. “We need to figure out what to get your mother for Christmas.”