What If

The last thing he said before I came into work, was to ask about my lease on my apartment. Who the owner was and then asked me for my key.

I gave it to him without a word, even though a thousand questions were zooming around in my head. Over the last three days, Torin talked as though we are already living together. Asking me questions about things I like in a house, would I enjoy a garden next spring, what I would think of living on a farm…

He has not come right out and asked me to move in with him, but whenever he talks, he says things about how we will do this or that in the future. As though it’s already happened.

That makes me happy and nervous at the same time. I want this to work, I feel it deep down that it’s right, but I question whether it’s just too many romance books.

I read them. A lot of them.

As well as I write them and in real life, happily ever after isn’t always a lock.

Heather and I finish up, and my mind wanders to the events that changed my life shortly after my eighteenth birthday.

I’d dated this guy in high school a few times toward the end of the year. During the summer, he’d called and asked me to hang out with him at a friend’s house. I’d liked him, he was the bad boy with this bit of a swagger, and I was not the kind of girl that got all that much attention from any of the boys, so I felt flattered.

Long story short, we’d stopped at one of his ‘friend’s’ house. He asked me to wait in the car and stupid me, so eager for any attention I said sure. I sat out there for about forty minutes before he returned. By then, I knew I should be furious. What kind of guy leaves a girl sitting in a car that long?

Well, a guy who was about to get me into a hell of a spot.

He’d gotten back in the car and put something rolled up in a white plastic shopping bag into my purse.

Before I could say no, the car is surrounded by six squad cars lights flashing, and I’m being dragged out and handcuffed.

The bag he’d handed me contained a half-pound of cocaine.

Legally, I was on the hook for collusion to distribute schedule C narcotics.

A year, a hospital stay and about fifty-thousand of my parents’ dollars later, I made a deal that had me with time served, two years of probation and a permanent felony record in exchange for a no contest plea.

I’ve never done drugs in my life. I’ve barely had enough drinks in one night to get tipsy. But try to explain a record like that to anyone, and no matter what, they believe somehow, I knew. Somehow, I must have been involved.

Enter my dilemma with Torin.

Just then, my phone dings and I look down to find it’s him.

Torin: Thinking about you, baby. How’s work going? I’ll be by to pick you up in a couple of hours.

Me: Things are good here. Sounds good.

Torin: I can’t wait to see you. I miss you. Have you eaten today?

Me: I miss you too. Yes, Helga brought food, as usual.

Torin: Okay, I want you to take care of yourself. Or I’ll do it for you. Oh, and I have a surprise for you later.

Me: :)

Torin: Okay, baby, I’ve got work stuff going on, I’ve got to go. See you soon.

Me: Okay. See you.

Helga comes in the back room, inspecting the two cakes I’ve finished today with a nod.

“Always so perfect.”

“Thanks,” I answer, pushing a smile to my lips as I look down at my phone and see another message from my Facebook friend.

Coming closer.

That’s all it says, but a shiver runs over my skin.

Helga goes about straightening up the counters as I pack up my bag, ready to walk to my place and get some writing done before Torin comes in a couple of hours to pick me up.

“Jessie.” Helga turns, holding a broken wooden spoon in her hands. “This is last one. Do you have time to run to that big Wal-store and buy me a pack of spoons? You take my car.”

Helga has me run errands for her now and then. She hates going shopping. Too many people and she’s not that great a driver, to be honest, so I don’t mind.

“Sure.” She reaches into her purse and hands me the keys. “Be back in a bit.”

I’m out the back door and on the way in her 2001 Buick Century. It looks just off the showroom floor, even with 120,000 miles on it.

On the drive, my mind wanders to what the surprise may be that Torin has in store. I know it’s too soon for anything significant, but somewhere deep down in my heart I have this image of us together.