Chapter eight
I hiss as I nick my skin a little with my razor, my hands shaking slightly as I do my best to spruce myself up for my coffee date with
Darla. A part of me is excited, but there’s another part of me that is absolutely terrified.
Maybe this isn’t the best idea. I think to myself as I press a piece of toilet paper to the tiny wound, the blood blooming slowly through
the other side of the thin, ivory-white tissue. I mean, Darla seems like a sweetheart and all, but I’m not sure I’m ready for this. I should call this whole thing off. . .
It still feels like yesterday that Melanie was playing Stevie Nick’s in the kitchen, twirling around while she cut roses from her prized
bushes. The fragrance carried all through the house, and every time I came in from work, she’d be there with a smile and a kiss.
Sometimes, when I think of her, I can almost feel her fingertips on my skin. . .
The phone buzzes, and it brings me back to reality. It”s me, staring at myself alone in the mirror, my phone going off again.I pick it up,
and there she is. Darla. And even in my bout of self-doubt, somehow Darla seems to pull me out of it.
Hey! Just wanted to confirm the address for the coffee place :)
I can’t help but smile. I haven’t even seen her yet, but there’s something about her that really draws me in. Maybe it’s because she and I have so much in common, or maybe because I’m just that lonely. Honestly, I can’t be too sure. But the part of me that wants to find out wins over the fear, and I text her back the address before shoving my phone in my breast pocket and heading to the kitchen.
“Ooh wee!” Noah yips as I walk in. “Looking mighty fine there, Pops.”
“Where are you headed to?” Zack asks.
“If you must know, I’m headed out for coffee with a friend,” I reply, and the two boys let out a low gasp.
“No way,” Noah says. “You’re going out on a date?”
“Mmm,” I say, “something like that.”
“Come on, boys, don’t give your daddy such a hard time,” Mitch insists. “But a bolo tie? Really?”
“What’s wrong with my bolo tie?” I ask, and they all look at one another before they burst into laughter. “I think she’ll like it! She likes the cowboy look.”
“Well, then, maybe it’ll work in your favor,” Mitch says with a grin.
“Hope so,” I say, feeling my nerves creep up a bit.
“Eli, I’m sure you’re gonna do fine,” Mitch replies, leaning back in his chair. “We will hold down the fort here. You go have fun.”
“Thanks, Mitch,” I say as I go to open the door. “I owe ya one.”
“Nah, I’d say we’re even,” Mitch replies with a wink, flicking the toothpick in his mouth to the other side. “I’m just glad you took my advice! Now go on before you’re late!”
“O-oh, yeah, right,” I say as I hurry out, the heavy storm door clattering behind me as I get in my truck and start it up.
“You can do this,” I give myself a pep talk as I rev the engine, looking at myself in the rearview mirror, setting my sunglasses on the bridge of my nose. “You deserve it.”
All the way there my hands are clammy and sweaty, so much so that I have to stop for a second to dry them, so they stop sliding all over the steering wheel. If this is what I’m supposed to do to move on. . . why do I feel so guilty? I ask myself. Even though Mel herself told me that she wanted me to be happy, and Mitch told me she probably wouldn’t want me to be lonely, it still feels like seeing another woman is like cheating.
But how do you cheat on someone who’s long gone?
The drive feels like it’s taking forever, but as I pull into the parking lot, it suddenly doesn’t feel like it was long enough.
I sit there for a moment, staring at the place with my door on the handle, once again wondering if I should just turn back. But it
wouldn’t be right to leave a lady waiting, so I take a deep breath, open the door, and head inside.
I get inside and take off my sunglasses, folding them up and setting them on my collar as I scan the room. I’m looking for a blonde in
a red, polka-dotted dress, and I quickly find her in the furthest back booth like we’d discussed.
As I walk closer, her features become more defined as she looks at a menu. Her pouty red lips are the first thing I notice before
realizing she’s all dressed up, her blonde hair curly and her lashes long and fluttery.
She finally looks up, and I freeze in place as our eyes lock on one another’s. Where there were once butterflies, I’m hit with a horrifying realization.
The pin-up look.
Those eyes. . . affixed in a horrified look as she stares at me.
It’s the crazy pie lady!You’ve got to be kidding me. . .
***
“E-Eli?” I ask, my voice quivering, recognizing him instantly. How is this happening right now? I ask myself. It’s the guy from the grocery store that ran into me! But if he knows it, he doesn’t show it as he steps closer and reaches his hand out toward mine.
“Yep, that’s me,” he says with a smile. “And you must be Darla.”
Maybe he forgot,I tell myself, trying to calm myself down. I mean, he couldn’t have gotten that good of a look at me, right?
“Mm-hmm, that’s me,” I say as I take his hand in mine, and I’m surprised when he gives it a gentlemanly peck, causing heat to crawl up my neck as he lets go and sits down across from me.
“Nice to see that they were able to clean up that dress for you,” Eli says.
Aw crap, he does remember,I think to myself as my stomach does flip-flops. Lucky me.
“Yes! Well, the guy said I did the right thing by getting some dawn dish soap on it immediately.”
“He’s a miracle worker,” Eli says with a chuckle, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.
“Sure is,” I say with a smile.
It’s awkwardly and unnervingly quiet for a moment as he fidgets with the salt and pepper shakers before picking up a menu from the basket on the side. His eyes scan it, and I bite my lip as I look down at my own, unsure of what to say.
This is so much different than being behind a screen. . . all that false confidence is gone. And now that I know, he knows I’m the pie girl. . .
“Well, y-you look beautiful,” Eli stammers, and I realize quickly that he’s just as nervous as I am. Maybe the pie thing isn’t such a big deal, I think to myself as I sit up straight. I want to ooze confidence. First impressions may be everything, but maybe I can redeem myself.
“You know, I am truly sorry about all of that,” I say. “I was having a really bad day.”
“I kind of figured when you told me off on behalf of mankind,” Eli says with a chuckle.
“Ugh, I’m so embarrassed,” I reply with a snort, feeling the tension ease up a little. “It really had nothing to do with you; my ex showed up, and, well, it didn’t go well.” Alright, Darla, reel in the ex-talk. If he can joke about it, so can I. “But hey, at least you’re not a bad egg.”
“Mm-hmm,” he says, and I realize that it’s possible that he’s just playing nice for niceness’s sake. “They do say, though, that one bad egg spoils the whole bunch.”
“Well, so far you don’t seem like spoiled goods,” I insist, and Eli laughs.
“I suppose not, but I suppose time will tell, huh?” Eli replies, and I’m not sure what he means, but I’m taking it as a good omen. I mean, if he wasn’t at all interested, he wouldn’t be sitting here still, would he? If it were me and I saw the lady that cursed me out in a store over a pie, I might run.
But not Eli. He’s. . . different.
We order our coffee, and by the time it gets there, we both realize that we’re starving.
“What’s good here?” I ask.
“Well, everything is good to be honest,” Eli says. “But I always settle for the sunny side-ups with bacon, sausage, and toast.”
“Hmm. . .” I say as I look at the menu again. “I don’t know, these fruit covered waffles sound good.”
“The Belgians? Yeah, they’re pretty great,” Eli says. “Best around, I’d say. Nothing like that I-Flop.”
We both laugh as the waitress comes back around, and we order our food. It’s not perfect by any means—we are both still a bit nervous—but I don’t want this to end up a disaster for either of us.
“So, your ranch,” I say as I push through a bit of silence. “How long have you had it?”
“Mmm. . . well, I’m fifty-four, so. . .” Eli pauses for a moment to think, and while he does I can’t help but notice how handsome he is. For fifty-four, he sure doesn’t look it. His tanned skin making him look like a golden God. And though he has flecks of white in his dark, ebony hair, he still doesn’t look a day over forty. Possibly even younger.
“I’d say about thirty years, or close to it,” he replies finally. “Give or take.”
“Oh wow, that’s a long time,” I say.
“Yeah, well, I grew up the son of a farrier, and I was just used to that sort of life, you know?” Eli says. “My daddy gave us our first little group of cows. Let me keep my horse, and we went from there.”
“That’s so amazing that your father would do that for you,” I reply.
“Yeah, he’s quite the man, I’ll say,” Eli says. “Now we’ve got so many cows, I don’t know what to do with them. Then there’s the horses. We got our own, and we boarded other people’s horses, let them ride on the property. We have some pigs and chickens as well. . .”
“Sounds like you love animals,” I reply.
“Sure do,” Eli says with a nod.
“Makes me miss my little farm, before the divorce,” I say, and I feel my spirits sag a little. All this talk about his animals reminding me a bit of what I’d lost.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Eli says with a frown. “How big was the farm?”
“I mean, probably small to you, but big to me,” I say with a chuckle. “I had a couple of cows, a pen of chickens, no pigs. Joseph hated those.”
“Joseph?”
“Oh, sorry, my ex-husband,” I say, feeling embarrassed that I even brought him up again.
“Ah, I gotcha,” Eli replies.
“But, uh, what I miss most is my Laney,” I say with a sigh as I grip my coffee cup, and the waitress comes by with our food. “She was a full dapple gray, and so sweet.”
“Those are beautiful horses for sure,” Eli replies. I reach for the creamer, and as I do, he reaches for the sugar, and his hand brushes against mine, instantly sending a thrilling chill up my arm. Goosebumps pile up my arms as he shoots me a smile, and I shyly smile back.
“You know, if you ever need a boarding place, I’ve got you,” he says.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I reply, butterflies rustling through my belly.
We spend a lot of time shooting the breeze as we eat, talking about our lives, work, and everything in between. Though the beginning seemed like it was headed for a disaster since he’d recognized me as ‘the pie girl’, I’m delighted at how wonderfully it’s going.
It’s been a long time since I’ve talked with anyone like this,I think to myself as a faint buzzing sound comes from his direction.
“Excuse me,” he says as he pulls his phone from his breast pocket. “It’s one of my boys, and I got to take this.”
“No worries,” I say as I sit there, eating the last few bites of my waffles and fruit as he nods and talks.
“Well, just hold tight the best ya can, Zack,” he says to whomever is on the phone. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Your son, I take it?” I ask as he hangs up the phone and puts it back in his pocket.
“Yeah, unfortunately,” Eli says with a sigh. “My one cow is going into labor, and the vet had told us it may be twins. . . so Zack is nervous about me not being there.”
“Oh my gosh! That is a big deal,” I gasp.
“Yeah, I got to call the doc and everything, get him over there,” Eli replies. “I’m just sorry I have to cut out of here early.”
“Don’t be,” I insist. “I’ve had a lovely time.”
“Me too,” Eli says with a sigh. “Even if you did hit me with a pie the other day,” he jokes with a wink, and we both end up laughing so loud the people around us stare. But I don’t care. This is the happiest I’ve been in a long while, and they can gawk if they want to.
“You’re never going to let me live that down, huh?” I ask.
“Nope,” Eli says with a smirk as he gets up from the table, surprising me when he sets a hundred dollars down for our thirty-dollar bill. “You know, you should come by sometime. I got plenty of horses for you to ride if you’re missing it.”
“You know, I might have to take you up on that,” I reply.
“Well, what are you doing on Valentine’s Day?” Eli asks.
“Oh! Um, nothing really,” I reply. “I mean I work ‘til seven. Why?”
“Well, I was wondering if you’d want to go to dinner,” Eli replies. “I know eight is a bit late, but I’d really like to take you out if you’d like to go.”
“I would love to,” I say with a smile as Eli puts his cowboy hat back on.
“The fourteenth at eight, then,” Eli says as he tips his hat at me. “It’s been a pleasure, Ms. Darla.”
“Likewise,” I say, and my heart pitter-patters when he smiles before he walks away. I watch him until he’s out the door.
“Wow.” I breathe to myself as I quickly finish my coffee and gather up my purse. He sure is something.
I can’t help but be giddy the whole drive home, a great big smile on my face as Eli runs through my mind. I crank up the tunes on the radio, and for the first time in a long time, I actually enjoy them, singing along like a chipper little bird.
It’s strange, but going out with Eli on our little breakfast excursion has caused this odd shift within me that I can’t explain. And though I’m still anxious about it all and where it might lead, I can’t help but feel something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Hope.
And honestly? It feels so good.