Chapter Three

AFTER ENTERING THE diner, Ramsey approached the counter and perused the menu on the wall. He wasn’t hungry, but he figured he should order something. He’d already appeared a little strange in the bookstore. He could at least try to appear less awkward in the diner.

“Um, let’s see. Can I have the tuna salad on wheat? And a cup of coffee, please?” he asked the cashier behind the counter. She rang up his order and gave him a number. He paid and went to find a seat. He didn’t look around, just took a seat nearby. He pulled out his paper, opened it up, and started to read.

Two tables down, Rachel elbowed Sarah. “You should go talk to him.”

“What? What for?” asked Sarah.

“Because you should! Heck, you talked to him this morning. It’s the perfect icebreaker.”

“He was a customer! Of course I talked to him. That doesn’t mean I should talk to him now. I don’t know him.”

“But you should. Look at him. He’s cute. So what if he was a little odd before. He seems perfectly normal now. I think he likes you.”

“You think he likes me?” said Sarah, keeping her voice down. “What are you talking about? He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t even see us. I doubt he would recognize me from this morning.”

“I bet he would,” said Rachel. “Go get some more coffee and make eye contact. I bet he’ll say something to you, and then you can go from there. What’s the harm in that?”

“I told you I’m not interested in meeting anyone. Come on, let’s go. We’ll be late if we don’t.” Sarah started to gather her things.

“We’ve got a few minutes. Don’t be a fuddy-duddy. Go for it!” said Rachel with impatience. “I’m here to back you up if you need it.”

“Back me up?” asked Sarah. “What are you going to do? Punch him if he rejects me? Please be serious. Can we go now?” She started to stand, but ducked back down as the cashier called a number and the man they were discussing got up and grabbed his sandwich from the counter. He walked back to his table and sat down to eat. He never looked up.

“Fine,” said Rachel. “I can see when you’ve put your foot down. You know I’m just thinking of you. I want you to find some happiness, you know? You’ve been so down lately.”

Sarah relaxed a little, accepting her friend’s concern for her. She tried to be a little less defensive. “Thank you, Rachel. I know you’re trying to help. I’m just not feeling the need to start anything new right now. To be honest, it scares the hell out of me. I just want to finish my day, go home, and go to bed.”

Rachel sighed. “Well, I won’t push you then. Do me a favor, though, and go get yourself another cup of coffee. You look like you’ll need it.”

Sarah eyed Rachel suspiciously.

“You don’t have to talk to him or even look at him,” said Rachel. “Just go get a refill, and we’ll head out.” She put her chin in her hand. “Party pooper.”

Sarah did want a little more coffee. She figured she could safely get a refill without having to bump into her prior customer, considering how his nose was buried in his paper as he munched on his sandwich. She decided she could walk by his table without being noticed.

“I’ll be right back.” She stood and swung her purse over her shoulder. Rachel stood as well and headed for the door as Sarah walked to the counter. She passed his table without looking down.

“Can I get a refill, please?” she asked the cashier. The lady took her cup, refilled it, and handed it back to her. Sarah grabbed a lid and covered the drink. As she turned to leave, the busboy approached to clean a table behind her. Sweeping at a mess of spilled chips, he arced the broom out, and Sarah’s foot caught on the bristles just enough to upset her balance and cause her to fall forward. Instinctively, she moved to stop herself on the chair in front of her to slow her forward momentum. Successful in preventing an embarrassing fall, she unavoidably let the coffee cup slip from her fingers. She stared in mute horror as her mind processed in mere microseconds where the coffee would fall - right at the feet of the man she was trying so hard to avoid.

The coffee hit hard, the lid flew off, and dark brown liquid spewed out in a wide spray. The man jumped up, yelping in the process. The hot liquid splattered up on him, and his pant leg took a direct hit. He looked down at the mess, assessing the damage. Then he looked up, directly at Sarah.

Sarah stared back, completely frozen, at the scene before her. She didn’t know what to say. Rachel, seeing the scene unfold from across the room, also stood in shock. For what seemed like several seconds, no one said a word. The moment was broken, though, by the agitated busboy, who exclaimed how sorry he was as he moved to clean up the mess.

Finally, Sarah’s vocal cords released. “Oops.” She could feel her cheeks redden.

“Oops?” said Ramsey. He broke his eye contact with her and made to blot the liquid from his pants. He couldn’t believe his luck. He’d been about to stand and deliberately bump into her when the perfectly timed coffee spill had occurred.

“I mean I’m sorry! I’m so sorry,” said Sarah, still tongue-tied. “I’m such a klutz. Did you get burned?”

He swiped at his pants again with a napkin. “I’ll live. No permanent harm done,” he replied. “Were you aiming for me?”

“What?” she asked, confused.

“That was a hell of a shot. Guess I should be glad it didn’t end up in my lap. That would have been unpleasant for a variety of reasons,” he said, sounding lighthearted. He noted her stricken face. “Are you okay?” he asked her.

“Um, what? What do you mean?” she asked.

“Well, you look a little ashen. You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”

“Faint on you?” Sarah asked, finally getting her voice back. “No, I’m not going to faint on you. I’m just so embarrassed. God, I just spilled hot coffee on you. You’re sure you’re not hurt?”

“I’m fine. But does this mean I get a free book?” he asked, unleashing his most charming grin.

“A free book? Why…?” She surmised then that he remembered her from the bookstore. “Oh, sure,” she retorted, surprising herself by playing along. “I’ll buy you a book on homemade remedies. I’m sure there’s something I can find about treating burns.” She finally unfroze and moved out of the way as the busboy returned with a mop and began cleaning the floor. “Or I’ll at least buy you something about avoiding klutzy women.”

Ramsey had moved out of the way as well, and now they stood across from each other. “I prefer the book on home remedies,” he said.

She was unsure how to interpret his answer. She didn’t have to wonder long, though, as Rachel walked up and broke the moment.

“Oh, my! Everybody okay? Sarah, you’re lucky you didn’t fall on your face! Sir, how are you?” she asked with animated concern. “Wait a minute.” She stared at Ramsey in mock surprise. “You were in the bookstore this morning, weren’t you? I thought I recognized you. Sarah, remember?” Rachel grinned at her, while Sarah stared back as only a friend can when they want to strangle you.

“Yes,” said Sarah, flustered. “Yes, I remember him, Rachel. Speaking of the bookstore, we really need to get back, or we’re going to be late. You ready?” she asked with warning in her eyes.

“Yes, I’m ready. You ready? Said all your apologies?” She turned to Ramsey. “You really need to forgive her. She hasn’t been sleeping well.” She avoided Sarah’s look and continued to address him. “It’s no wonder she almost tripped and fell. You’re lucky she and the coffee both didn’t end up in your lap.”

Ramsey smiled. “I think I could have endured it.”

Sarah wanted to melt into the floor. “We really need to go. Sorry again about the coffee. Let’s go.” She took her friend by the arm, but Rachel wasn’t swayed easily.

“This is Sarah, by the way,” she said, “and I’m Rachel.”

“Ramsey. John Ramsey,” he replied. “I’ll stop by the bookstore later to pick up my book, Sarah.”

Sarah looked back at him as she pulled Rachel away. “Your book?” she asked.

“Yes, on home remedies? I believe you offered to buy it for me.” He watched her, waiting for her reaction.

Sarah started to object, wanting to say she wasn’t serious, that he shouldn’t bother stopping by later, but she didn’t. She just looked back and found herself agreeing to it. “I’ll see what I can find for those burns,” she said as they walked out the door.

Ramsey watched them leave. They crossed the street and headed toward the bookstore a few shops down. Something in him stirred. Something he didn’t expect. Silent warnings flared as unexpected emotions surfaced. He stood for a moment, staring, but then he turned and walked back to his table. Leaving the rest of his lunch uneaten, he gathered his things and left.

And at the counter, unnoticed as he sat amid the others patrons and ate his lunch, a gray-bearded gentleman turned and watched him leave.