Nothing. No text. No call. Not a thing.
For two whole days, every time I even thought I heard a ding, I grabbed my phone. Most of the time it was someone else’s phone close to me. At the store while helping Eleanor clean up, my heart sped deliriously whenever the door opened and someone came in. Of course, it was always workers that Eleanor hired, because the store was closed. I hoped, perhaps, there would be more police business, maybe something Eleanor needed to sign and local law enforcement would come.
By day three, I was done. If Ansel had shown up, I wouldn’t have cared. I stopped repeatedly grabbing my phone. I even missed a few texts from my mom and Gemma, not realizing I was being dinged. The blissful afternoon and evening with Ansel, when I’d thought I might have found something real, were gone, like an illusion of sorts. Ansel had obviously played a game he probably often played. I bet most girls ended up in his bed, so when I didn’t, he moved on.
That thought made me dislike him and made the memory of our time together seem inauthentic. Though I wanted to hate him, I couldn’t. He’d made me feel too much, made me want more. I wasn’t what he was interested in when it came down to it, yet I was sure he’d saved me from any future heartbreak. I’d sadly fallen for a stranger.
“I have a buyer,” Eleanor said, sounding pleased and a little relieved as she ended her call. I knew it was coming but hearing it still stung. No, it was threatening to break me. For her sake I forced a smile. “Great. That was quick,” I replied, speaking without actually thinking.
“I know! The broker called two days ago and he told me that they might have a deal. I thought for sure it was too good to be true, but here we are.” She stood and threw her arms skyward, pure joy painted on her face. “Go home. Relax. Enjoy your day. I’m going to leave and go watch some daytime television while eating chocolate with my feet up.”
Leave? Relax? “Is this it? We don’t do anything else?” I was lost again. I’d been kidding myself that it wasn’t over yet. Now it was. This was final. Done. Finished. Through.
“For this store it is,” she responded, sadly glancing at me. “We had a good run, Sugar. It was fun working with you. Thank you for the work you put in. I’m going to miss seeing your face every day. You better come see me. I’ll take you to lunch. We’ll have ourselves a standing date.”
This was all so easy for her. Eleanor’s retirement was beginning. She was excited and my pouting wasn’t fair. I approached to hug her. “Go enjoy today. Do something fun, Sugar.”
I nodded without speaking. When the hug ended, she squeezed my hand and started to say more, but her phone started ringing. She answered with a smile before waving goodbye to me. Turning, I left her office and walked down the short hallway towards the front window, which was covered with a sheet of tan, oily-scented wood. This was sold. Another owner would glass the hole where the drunk driver had entered. That didn’t make me feel better, so I grabbed my purse and headed for the door. I took one glance back, then I left.
Maybe I should go visit my mom to get my mind off of this. She could make me pancakes and burn them. That idea was comforting.
After I stepped into the bright midday sun, my gaze swung across the parking lot towards my car and froze when I saw Ansel. For the briefest moment I felt a thrill, even though I’d sworn to forget him. Then I realized that he wasn’t alone or even looking my way. He wasn’t here to be sweet and make me go weak in the knees like he’d done before. A woman stood close to him. First I noticed her long dark hair, then I perused her tall lean figure, which her tight jeans and bright tank top almost covered. They were having a heated conversation. Ansel was wearing sunglasses. With his uniform it was sexy. I hated him for being sexy. Why did I have to become gooey when I saw a sexy guy? That’s so cliché of me.
Ansel threw up his hands and yelled something. She started crying and slammed against his chest. As she cried, Ansel’s arms enveloped her. At that moment, his head turned in my direction. With his sunglasses on, I couldn’t see his eyes, but I knew he was looking right at me. Even so, he didn’t release her. Ansel stood there letting me take it all in. And I did just that.
After that, I walked to my car without looking back. That was all I needed to see. I could argue with myself and make excuses, like maybe that was his sister. Yet, there had been something about their body language that made it clear what they were doing went beyond sibling affection.
I drove home a little numb. The store was sold and my memory of Ansel was now permanently tarnished, stored and put away forever. In time, hopefully, I’d forget him. Tomorrow I would get in my car and drive to Tennessee, where I’d eat burned pancakes, listen to Elvis music, and let my mother ask me a million questions that I didn’t want to answer.
My phone dinged the moment I got home. Reluctantly I looked down at it, loathing the sound because it reminded me of the fleeting joy I’d experienced when Ansel had shown concern.
Where are you?
It was Ansel. I shouldn’t respond. I’d sworn that I wouldn’t. I had more pride than that. Sure, it had been almost three days and we’d just met, but it was rude of him not to text or at least respond to my last text. Surely he didn’t just see me and think, “Oh yeah, I forgot about her. I’ll text her and see where she is.”
I didn’t even know if he was single. What I’d seen made me question everything and also demonstrated how little I knew about the man. I touched the text and then for my own sanity I instantly deleted it. There was power in that, along with regret, though my feminine pride made me a good bit pissy that I was feeling the regret.
I decided to take a long bath. After removing my shoes, I went to the bathroom. There I would call my mother and give her the good news that I was coming for that visit she kept asking me about. I had nothing to do all day and I didn’t feel like reading. My phone dinged again. I tried hard to ignore it, but my curiosity got the best of me, even though I told myself that it could be Gemma or Mom and they may need me. I knew better. I was praying it was Ansel.
Are you at home?
It was Ansel. My stomach did a traitorous, excited flutter. Sure, I was home but he didn’t know where my home was. Not that it mattered. I ignored his texts since it was pointless to keep this up. On a day that I needed someone, he’d been there for me. Again, that made me vulnerable. It was my only excuse for having these kind of ridiculous emotions for him when I shouldn’t.
After turning off the volume, I put the phone down. I wouldn’t be tempted again if I couldn’t hear it ding. After two ignored texts, maybe he’d get the hint? Then, my doorbell rang.
I froze. My doorbell never rang unless I was expecting it to ring and that was hardly ever. My heart began beating faster and I turned to look back at the door. Why was my doorbell ringing? Who was it? I knew, even as I asked myself. He was a cop and could find my address. That seemed intrusive. I tried to be angry.
Can you ignore the law coming to your home? I wasn’t sure. After walking cautiously to the door, I studied it for a long minute before checking the peephole to make certain I was right. Ansel was there, frowning, tight-lipped, every square inch of his face masked in seriousness. Maybe he was here about something else and not to explain why he was ignoring me and hugging some woman in public? That was a long shot.
I took a deep breath and clutched the doorknob. My hand and arm seemed to work separately from me, as if they knew I should talk to him. His eyes met mine and, like the first time I’d ever looked into them, they slammed into me. God, that was unfair. Eyes like Ansel’s could be used as weapons. They were a kind of wonderful illness that I had no immunity against.
“Can I come in?” he asked, not waiting on me to say anything. He was still dressed in his uniform and that was distracting me. I stepped back and let him in.
He took in my apartment. A smile developed on his lips. He said, “Sugar, this fits you. It’s even decorated smart.”
I agreed. But I wasn’t going to chat with him. He’d run my name through their system. Found my address by accessing DMV records or something invasive like that. And now, here he was. I wanted an explanation, not a swift compliment on my apartment.
When he fixed me with his stare, I looked away. I didn’t want to get caught up in those eyes and crumble before him like a cookie.
“Did you ignore my texts or not get them?” His question was direct. It made me a little angry. So, I met his stare and replied, “Ansel, I failed to respond to a text you sent me thirty minutes ago. You didn’t answer me for days. When you didn’t respond, did I show up at your house? No, I did not.”
He smirked. This wasn’t funny, and I didn’t like him thinking that it was. He’d hurt my feelings.
“I’m sorry. Things got a little hectic. I had to deal with that before I could respond.”
He was amused, which made me feel as if he thought that I was being silly and petty. I didn’t appreciate that at all. I crossed my arms over my chest in a defensive gesture.
“Why are you here?” I blurted out. “This isn’t an interview!”