Chapter 26
On the first Thursday of December, at six thirty, Willow parked her Civic across the street from Scottie’s apartment building and grabbed her phone from the passenger seat. I’m here, she texted.
Scottie’s answer arrived immediately. Want to come up for a minute? I usually don’t let women see my apartment until the third date, but I’ll make an exception for you.
Willow hesitated. But truth be told, she was curious and wanted to see Scottie’s home. Okay. On my way, she texted back.
She climbed out of the car, locked it, and crossed the street.
The neighborhood was still bustling, people cutting through an alley with shopping bags. The first floor of Scottie’s building was made of concrete and had large glass storefronts housing a grocery store, while the four upper floors were clad in orange metal panels.
She rang the doorbell, and Scottie buzzed her in. Willow pulled open the glass door and crossed the modern lobby. She took the elevator up to the third floor and found unit 318.
The door was propped open, and Scottie stood just inside the apartment, greeting her with a warm smile.
She wore a light-blue sweatshirt with a polo-style collar, two buttons left undone, and a pair of black khakis. Golden waves of hair fell onto her forehead, and her brown eyes crinkled at the corners. “Hi. Come on in.” She opened the door wider to let Willow enter.
Scottie’s one-bedroom apartment was small, but the tall windows made it feel bigger.
The first thing Willow noticed were the plants.
They were everywhere—potted ferns on the windowsill, a poinsettia on the coffee table, and an ivy plant dangling down from a macramé hanger in a corner.
All of them were thriving, their leaves a healthy green.
Clearly, Scottie was taking good care of them.
Scottie had already put up her Christmas tree. It was decorated with red and silver ornaments and cute little figurines like a cow wearing a Santa hat. Huge googly eyes stared back at her from branches near the top.
A loud laugh burst out of her, surprising even Willow. God, she loved Scottie’s goofiness. It made her relax for a change. “Um, your Christmas tree is looking at me. Why does it have eyes?”
Scottie chuckled. “I saw them in a craft store, and it seemed like a fun idea—and I think it was. I got a few good laughs out of my friends.”
Did Scottie count her among them?
Willow pushed the thought away and continued to look around. Her gaze drifted to the wooden contraption next to the poinsettia. It was a half-finished 3D puzzle that would be a marble run once it was done. Its tracks twisted and turned like a wooden roller coaster.
She nearly commented, saying that she loved 3D puzzles too and that maybe they could do one together next time. Then she reminded herself that there wouldn’t be a next time. This was their final practice date.
Scottie stood next to her in silence, as if waiting for her verdict. Finally, she raised her brows.
Willow usually wasn’t a person who openly voiced her thoughts, but with Scottie, she felt comfortable to do so. “It’s not what I expected.”
“Better or worse?” Scottie asked.
“Different,” Willow replied. “I thought it would be more…I don’t know…high-tech. Not like this.” She pointed at the plants, the wooden puzzle, and the goofy Christmas tree.
“I’ve got a small desk with a computer in my bedroom, but I try not to take work home with me,” Scottie said. “This is what I like in my spare time.”
“It’s wonderful.” Willow could imagine curling up on the couch with a book, relaxing without fear of destroying an expensive electronic gadget. She immediately chased the mental image away. “Ready to go?”
“Yep.” Scottie grabbed her jacket and keys. “Lead the way.”
~ ~ ~
The Civic was parked beneath a streetlight. When Scottie saw the car, she made a beeline for it and trailed a hand over the hood in a gesture so tender, it sent a shiver through Willow. “Are we taking her or my car?”
“Her?” Willow repeated with a smile.
“Of course.” Scottie playfully put her hands on her hips. “Don’t tell me you gave her a male name.”
“Who says she has a name?”
Scottie merely raised her eyebrows.
“Okay, okay. Her name is Ruby—because of her color. And yes, we’re taking her.”
“Cool,” Scottie said. “Ruby really looks great for her age. I can tell you’re taking good care of her.”
In a few areas, the paint was starting to bubble, and the black vinyl seats were a bit worn, but otherwise, Ruby had held up well. “I’m only the second owner. She belonged to an older gentleman who rarely drove her.”
“Can I drive?” Scottie directed a hopeful look at her.
“Can you even drive a stick?”
Scottie flashed her an exuberant grin. “Get in and find out!”
Willow hesitated. No one but her had ever driven Ruby, but faced with Scottie’s eager smile, she couldn’t say no. She tossed her the keys.
Scottie caught them, looking like a kid who’d been given the keys to a candy store. She nearly skipped over to the driver’s side and climbed behind the wheel.
Willow laughed at her antics.
Scottie trailed her fingers over the wood-grain veneer running across the top of the dashboard.
Jesus. Willow’s mouth went dry. Did Scottie have to keep fondling the car in such a sensual way?
Scottie tested the hand crank on the door, rolling down the driver’s side window, then rolling it back up, the biggest grin on her face.
“It doesn’t have power steering, and the radio doesn’t work,” Willow told her, “but everything else does.” Truth be told, she hadn’t replaced the radio on purpose—one fewer piece of electronics that could fail. She drove an old car with minimal electronic components for that very reason.
Scottie turned the key in the ignition. When the engine rumbled to life, she beamed. “Listen to her! She started without a hitch!”
Willow smiled back and watched her from the passenger seat.
She marveled at the way Scottie found so much joy in small things like getting to drive a classic car.
Maybe she should try to be more like that—at least for this one night.
She promised herself that she would enjoy this practice date without thinking of the fact that it would be their last one.
Scottie slid the gear stick into first, let the clutch out slowly, and added a little gas, smoothly easing the car into the crawl of traffic down SE 11th Avenue.
“You have driven a stick,” Willow said.
Scottie nodded. “My dad wouldn’t have let me move out until I had learned how.”
“Is he a mechanic?” Willow asked.
Scottie’s chuckle filled the car. “No. He’s a high school physics teacher. This is his last year in the classroom, but he’ll keep mentoring the robotics club, and my mom is converting the garage into a workshop to keep him busy once he’s home full-time.”
“Smart woman,” Willow said. “My parents got divorced within a year of retiring. Their careers kept them busy, but once they stopped working and spent more time around each other, they realized they had nothing in common anymore.”
“I’m so sorry.” Scottie stopped at a traffic light and glanced over with a look of compassion.
“It’s okay. They split up on good terms.” Willow fell silent. She was stunned at the way she kept telling Scottie personal stuff, even things she didn’t like to talk about.
“Where to?” Scottie asked, not trying to pressure her into telling her more.
“Take a right here,” Willow replied.
Scottie did. Her hands were steady on the steering wheel, and she handled the little car as if she’d been driving it for years. She hummed as she guided the Civic along Southeast Belmont Street.
Neon lights flashed, and music drifted out of bars and restaurants as they passed them.
“This is fun!” Scottie said. “It’s amazingly easy to drive.”
The pure, unadulterated joy on Scottie’s face took Willow’s breath away. She almost wished the ride wasn’t so short so she could watch her a little longer.
But all too soon, they reached their destination. Willow directed her into a small parking lot, where Scottie eased the car into the last open space.
Scottie shut off the engine, then turned toward her and made eye contact. “Thank you for letting me drive.”
“You’re very welcome.” If Scottie got so much joy out of it, she would even let her drive back.
They got out, and Willow led her toward the small, seventies-themed bar, tucked between a Vietnamese restaurant and a vintage clothing store. This time, she was the one who held the door open for Scottie before following her in.
Plush olive-colored velvet booths and orange plastic chairs lined the walls to the left and right.
Hanging lamps cast an amber glow onto square wooden tables.
At the end of the long, narrow room stretched a bar.
Curved wood shelves undulated behind it, reaching from floor to ceiling.
Rows of bottles glinted in the warm light.
Willow halfway expected a disco ball to hang from the ceiling, but instead, a large, illuminated potted palm took up the center of the room.
ABBA was playing in the background.
A tiny knot twisted in her belly as she watched Scottie take it all in. What if she didn’t like it?
Scottie glanced around and laughed. “Trust you to take me somewhere retro!”
“Tonight is Drag Bingo night,” Willow said softly, watching Scottie’s reaction. “I thought it might be fun.”
“Ooh, I bet it is!” Scottie seemed as delighted as she’d been getting to drive the Civic. “Come on, let’s grab a table before they’re gone.”
The knot in Willow’s stomach unraveled.
Scottie lightly placed her hand on the small of Willow’s back as she guided her past several busy tables. The gesture was casual, but the warm weight of Scottie’s hand still made Willow’s heart beat faster.
Was Scottie just practicing her dating skills, or was it an instinctive, entirely unconscious touch?
Scottie gestured at a booth, letting her slide in first.
Willow took a seat, and Scottie slid in next to her.