Chapter Twenty-One
Hannah
A text?
I was eating breakfast after sleeping in when my cell chimed for a message.
Mike: Good morning. What’s your schedule like for next weekend?
Should I respond right away? Last night, he said he’d call. Was he cooling off already?
This is when I really wished I had a good girlfriend. Marcy did not count. Jen had given me her number, though. Would it be too weird to ask for advice?
Setting the phone aside, I went through the rest of my routine.
Sunday was my errand/chore day. Today’s list included going to IKEA for a shelf for the stuffed animals. I still couldn’t believe he bought all that stuff. What a goober. I’d ship them to my stepmother to store in the garage if I didn’t think it might hurt his feelings.
Well…
Maybe not the orangutan. I lifted him from my bed. He was pretty irresistible with his goofy smile and tuft of wispy hair on top. Of course, the zoo toys were premium plush and all huggable. On a whim, I sent Mike a photo of the little orange guy sitting on my pillow.
The reply was instantaneous: I knew he’d be your favorite.
I typed back: Don’t be hasty. He’s the first I grabbed.
Exactly. Instinct. I’m right.
This is silly.
So? Followed by the winking and grinning smilies.
So what, indeed. No one was looking over our shoulders.
What are you doing today?
What are YOU doing? I countered.
I asked first.
I asked second. I added the raspberry smiley.
Arguing for the sake of arguing?
No.
Now who’s the dork?
Gasp.
No, *gasp*.
I sit corrected.
You’re right, this is silly. What are you doing today?
IKEA.
Need any help?
I got it.
Aww, don’t pout.
You don’t want me to come.
Not yet.
It took him a full minute before he replied: Naughty.
You walked into that one.
I guess I did. Are you free next weekend?
I was free every weekend, but he didn’t need to know that. Weeknights, too, as long as I got to sleep in time for work the next morning. Since I washed my hair every other day, that meant bed by eleven at the latest. 9:00PM was golden.
Schedule should be clear, I wrote.
Then it’s a date.
You have to set a time and place to make it a date.
Trust me. You’ll know when you need to.
I’m glaring at the phone right now, Mike.
Patience, my dear.
I’m leaving for my errands now.
Okay. /sigh
So lame.
Phone off, then purse, keys, and out the door. I kept chuckling all the way to the store.
****
Now we’d started texting, it became a common occurrence through the week, which was also Brian-free and Marcy-lite. Mike sent bad puns between his recording sessions. I gave him commentary on the TV I watched at night.
Now it was Friday, I was anxious to know his plans for our date.
Clock is ticking, I texted during my lunch break.
It was almost time to be back at my desk when I got the reply with an address and time tonight. Putting it in Google Maps showed me…a bowling alley? Okay…
At least I was already wearing pants since it was Casual Friday—not that my office actually did casual, but. Bowling was better not done in a skirt. I guess it could be fun…though borrowed shoes and beer-stained carpet weren’t the first things I thought of for a second date.
Imagine my surprise at walking into the complete opposite. The place looked new (no idea if it was), had hardwood floors, no stale alcohol smell, and was filled with young people. Like a giant gastropub that happened to have a bowling alley inside it.
“There you are.”
I turned and smiled at Mike. “This is pretty cool.”
“Not what you were expecting, was it?” He took my hand and led me to the shoe station.
“It’s packed!”
He nodded. “You have to make a reservation to hope to play before midnight.”
I got my shoes, then he guided me to his lane. Jen and Dylan were there. “Double date tonight, huh?” I said to Mike.
“Is that okay?”
“Yeah,” I said above the noise.
Relief covered his face and we joined his friends. Jen hugged me. “Glad you could make it.”
Dylan was rocking the aforementioned hiatus beard. “Now we can order. I’m starving.”
“I swear he has a tapeworm.”
“Pizza’s okay?” Mike asked me. I nodded, so the boys left.
Jen and I sat on the vinyl bench. “You’re a writer, correct?”
“That’s right. Science fiction, mostly.”
“Wow, good for you. With space battles and stuff?”
“Sometimes. For younger readers it’s about the character journey and personal growth. The genre is divided into hard science and soft science, and getting too technical isn’t my thing.”
“How did you get into it?”
“Love of Star Wars and Star Trek as a kid. Branched out from there. A teacher challenged me to write a story in high school and I caught the bug.”
“That’s cool. I managed to write a not-entirely-terrible haiku once and that’s the extent of my creativity with the written word, so I admire people with that imagination.”
“Well, you’d be surprised. Most people have a story in them. We’re not all inspired by the same stuff. And some are really good at telling nonfiction stories.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“What do you do?”
“Data entry and reports,” I said. “In other words, I’m good with Excel.”
“Ah.” She chuckled.
“Yeah, I know, most people would rather chew off their own hand. I’m good at making programs give my bosses the info they need.”
“Then it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks,” she said. “Most people your age don’t know their worth, yet.”
“I didn’t have the luxury of time.” And that’s all I wanted to say about that. “How many years have you been published?”
“Several now. My ex-husband allowed me to write full-time.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you were divorced.”
“Widowed.”
“I’m sorry.”
Jen waved it off. “It’s okay. He was an alcoholic, so things weren’t good at the end. I loved him, of course, but—”
“I understand. It’s not the same as someone being good to have in your life.”
She nodded. “You sound like the voice of experience.”
“Let’s just say I’ve known toxic people.”
“Meeting Dylan showed me I was ready to move on. Now we kind of can’t get enough of each other.”
I smiled. “I wouldn’t have guessed you’ve only been together a few months.”
“Since New Year’s Eve. We see each other every weekend unless he has to work.”
“You’re not in L.A.?”
She shook her head. “Big Bear. Dylan grew up there, so he knows it well. That’s the mountains an hour and a half from here.”
I spotted the guys coming back with drinks in hand. “His ears must’ve been burning.”
“Where’s the pizza?” Jen asked.
Dylan kissed her before saying, “In the oven.”
“They’ll bring it,” Mike added. Jen moved to the opposite bench to let him sit next to me. “How was work?” he asked me.
“You’re not really interested in my job.”
“I’m interested in how they treat you.”
“Fine. Same as always. How is the album coming?”
“We could be done, but Jake is being a perfectionist about it.”
“That’s because all his songs are about Beth,” Dylan said.
“I don’t think he has to try that hard to impress her,” Jen said.
“Try telling him that.”
“It’s sweet, though,” I said.
“Which is why it’s our duty to give him a hard time about it,” Mike said.
I swatted his arm. “Why do guys rag on other men for being romantic?”
Dylan held his hands up. “I’m not touchin’ that one.” He draped one arm behind Jen’s shoulders.
“We pick on the neurosis, not the romance,” Mike said. “It’s our way of getting a friend to relax.”
“And stop annoying us.”
“That, too.”
A waitress brought a large pizza that was half meat and half veggie. “You folks need anything else?”
“Not right now,” Dylan said. She left.
“Did you pick a ball?” Mike asked me.
“Not yet. Where?”
The one that fit my hand best was white with blue swirls on it. Jen’s ball was hot pink, Mike’s was black, and Dylan brought his own.
“I didn’t know anyone under sixty owned a bowling ball.”
“Rental balls don’t fit my fingers.” He produced a ball that looked like a galaxy of stars. Wow.
“Okay, that’s cool.”
He nodded. “Custom’s the only way to go, baby.” Jen rolled her eyes.
“Is there a league for famous people?” I asked. “You have enough for a team.”
“Never thought to ask around,” he said. “What about it, Mikey?”
“I don’t like bowling that much.”
The pizza was really good, like artisan grade, and the guys were happy with the craft beer on tap. If bowling alleys had always been like this, so many of them never would’ve shut down.
Being with another couple took the pressure off me and Mike and I liked Dylan and Jen, so once we started the game, it was all fun. Didn’t matter if one of us rolled a gutter ball or a strike. First game was couple vs. couple, then girls vs. boys, and Jen and I made a good team. It also felt cool to be in on this secret, hanging out with two rockstars no one recognized.
My mind wasn’t paying attention to the clock, but my body knew when it passed eleven. I yawned again. “Sorry.”
“Running out of gas?” Mike asked.
Nodding, I said, “Long day. You know how early I work.”
“Can I get you some coffee?”
“Maybe I should head home.”
“Are you leaving?” Jen asked when I was standing.
“I started work at seven.”
She winced. “Mike, don’t let her drive tired.”
“I’m okay—”
“She’s right, accidents happen like that,” Dylan added.
Mike looked to me with a furrowed brow. “I’m going to get you that coffee.” He left the lane before I could protest.
“Thanks.”
“We look out for each other,” Dylan said.
“I’m really fine. I’ll blast the radio and it’s not that far.” But it was nice for someone to care.
Mike returned remarkably fast. He must’ve pushed to the head of the line. “Black with a teaspoon and a half of sugar.”
“Thanks.” The warmth felt good on hands not used to tossing eight-pound balls.
And yes, he remembered my order right. I’d only mentioned it once in passing, but he remembered. That warmed my insides more than the coffee. He sat with me, an arm on the back of the bench. I could cuddle in if so inclined. Wouldn’t help my sleepiness, though, so I stayed put, sipping while being watched by my new friends.
“How late does this place stay open?” The crowd hadn’t thinned a bit.
“Two,” Dylan said. “Like any bar.”
Wow. I hadn’t stayed up that late since a high school slumber party.
“Perking up?” Mike asked.
“It’s good.”
“If you need more caffeine, let me know. Or food. Pizza was a while ago. They have desserts here, too.”
“Really?” Now he had my interest.
Grinning, he flagged down a waitress. “We need a dessert sampler.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I love knowing men with a sweet tooth,” Jen said.
“You, too?” I asked Dylan.
“We bonded over hot chocolate,” he replied. He smiled at her and they kissed.
Aww.
“Maria’s brownies,” Mike whispered in my ear. My cheeks flushed. When the other couple continued to kiss, Mike nuzzled the skin below my ear. “Missed you this week.”
“We chatted every day.”
“Not the same as seeing you.” A brush of his lips on the side of my neck.
Or touching me. The slightest affection sent blood pooling south. Inhale, exhale, and he straightened up.
The waitress had returned. I was no longer sleepy.