Chapter 3 #2
Oh but I am. Though I’m not sure I can commit. Thankfully, I have two and a half weeks to decide. I love how he doesn’t push for my number or even my name. Just leaves the ball in my court. “Thank you.” I smile at him. “I better get going.”
I don’t know if I should do one of those side-hug things or shake his hand. What is the protocol for this kind of situation? A fist bump?
Leo decides for me by motioning to the sled still in his possession. “Are you sure you don’t want me to haul this to your car?”
Ugh. I forgot about that. I reluctantly take ownership of the distorted contraption. I scan the general vicinity. “Think there’s a garbage bin big enough for it?”
He gently clamps his hand over mine on the sled as if he’s afraid I’m going to launch it into the dumpster from here. “You want to toss it?”
“It’s worthless.”
He scoffs good-naturedly. “This thing carried me on my maiden sledding adventure. I’m wounded you think so little of it.”
“Carried is an iffy word choice.”
His dimples deepen with his wide grin. “I was trying to be somewhat poetic to persuade you to keep it.” His gloved thumb absently runs over the side of my hand, and I’m trying to act casual as if the movement isn’t messing with me.
“You can have it then.”
“Really?” His face softens as if I’ve just given him something of worth rather than a mangled sled.
“Of course.” The bell chimes from the church down the street. It’s like some weird version of Cinderella, but instead of running to a pumpkin carriage, I’ve got a beat-up Highlander awaiting me. However, Leo still has my hands captive on the sled. Not that I mind, but … “I really have to leave.”
He squeezes my fingers and nods. “Thank you for tonight, Greta.”
I really want to say, “See you soon!” but I haven’t dedicated enough time to overthinking this. I settle on a smile and try to look graceful as I hustle down the walk. I can still feel the heat from his gaze on me.
All my anxieties are present and accounted for.
I am here.
It’s Sunday night, December 15, at exactly 6:59, and I’m perched by the turtledoves as Leo suggested.
Since Light-Up Night, I was in a constant battle with myself.
This morning, I woke up and was eighty percent uncertain of my certainty.
What good could come from going? But then the “what if” scenarios taunted.
What if you don’t get another chance like this?
What if he really is into you?
What if you regret not going?
What if he is The One?
What if he shows up and says he’s been counting the days, the hours, the minutes, until he was able to see you again?
Okay, the last one is a result of my recent rom-com binge, but still, I need to explore the possibility of this rendezvous.
Also, I’ve never rendezvoused before, and I find the word fun to throw about.
What says intrigue and possible romance better than a fancy ten-letter word with a silent ‘Z’ AND ‘S’?
Gran took an early nap after dinner, and Pap turned on some war documentary.
Everything was under control. I wasn’t needed.
So I didn’t see the harm in coming. I nestle my chin in the thick wool collar of my coat.
It’s cold out. The chill from the park bench is numbing my backside.
Snow swirls around me, as if uncertain where to land.
I glance down the walk. With only two Sundays before Christmas, the park is buzzing with activity.
Carolers are strolling along the walk singing “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.” Families are meandering about, gawking at the displays.
Thankfully, Josie’s surfing elf has remained stationed by the fountain.
I glance at my phone. It’s five after seven.
No sign of Leo yet. But it’s busy here. Finding parking nearby is practically impossible.
I left my car behind my antique shop on Main Street and walked over.
My only sustenance today was a PBJ five hours ago, and my stomach is calling me out on my neglect.
My gaze drifts in the direction of the concession stand.
Nachos sound divine right now. I never consider myself a foodie, but I’m definitely one who scopes out the food options at an event before deciding if I attend or not.
Oh, that wedding shower will have a donut wall?
I’m RSVPing. That recital will have a catered reception from Chick-fil-A?
I’ll wear my stretchy sweater dress. And so on.
I’m a sucker when it comes to food that I don’t have to prepare myself.
Sadly, those opportunities don’t arise too often.
And even more sadly, I can’t venture toward the concession stand without losing sight of the park bench.
With the crowd tonight, I could be in line for several minutes.
No, I’ll wait for Leo and subtly persuade him that nachos go great with hot chocolate.
He’s never had the drink before, so I think my convincing him is pretty high.
If only he’d get here.
7:10.
7:15.
7:20.
My butt is officially frozen to the park bench. I’m slowly turning into stone. People walk by me in a blur. My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Tilly, my best friend. She’s the only person I told about tonight.
Tilly
Do NOT forget to get his number this time. Or at LEAST his last name! I can’t stalk his socials without such crucial info. Don’t fail me!
I bend my fingers to get blood back into them and text …
Greta
He’s not here yet
Tilly
I thought he told you 7???
Greta
He did
Didn’t he? What if he said eight? My gut sinks. See? I should’ve written it down. My neuro tendency to forget the second I hear stuff is my worst enemy.
Greta
He might have said 8
Tilly
Keep me posted!
I “thumbs up” her comment and stand. I swear I can feel my frozen bones snapping into place. I grab a rogue sticky note from my purse. I tear off the edge where I blotted my lipstick earlier. The paper still has enough stickiness, so I write:
Leo, find me at the concession stand.
At least I won’t be hangry when he finally shows up. I was right. The concession stand is crowded. It takes me forever to go through the line. Once I get my cheesy fried tortilla fix, I return to the park bench.
It’s already after 8. No sign of him. I sigh and look at the turtledoves.
“I don’t think he’s coming,” I say to the unassuming display.
Either the cold is making me delirious or I’m just pathetic.
Because the same spot where my grandparents sealed their love for each other is the exact place I got stood up.