The F-Word
Coop gives me a pitying look. “How’d I know? I know because, all indications to the contrary, buried deep within that frosty exterior you have a kind heart.”
“I do not have a frosty exterior.”
“Okay. Maybe not.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin. “I know because it’s exactly what I would have done in your shoes.”
I am amazed how relieved his words make me feel. “Yeah?”
“I mean, what the fuck, it’s only one day. Drive up, drive back, put in ten, twelve hours being there for your PA who’s been there for you for years—What?”
“It’s not one day. It’s Friday evening through Sunday morning.”
“Oh. Well, that’s still doable. I mean, all you give up is one weekend. And you’ll be doing a good thing. You gonna eat those fries?”
I wave away the fries. My appetite’s gone, maybe because I still haven’t told Coop all of it.
“The thing is, it’s turning out to be a little more complicated than I’d figured.”
“How?”
“Well, for one thing, Bailey pointed out that we’d be under family scrutiny. That she knew a lot about me, but I didn’t know a lot about her.” I pause. “See, I’m not supposed to be just her date. I’m supposed to be, ah, to be, you know, the dude she’s seeing.”
“The dude who’s fucking her.”
I can feel my jaw tighten. “That she’s involved with. Yeah.”
Coop swipes a fry through a mound of ketchup. “So, what’s the problem? The two of you have a couple of conversations—what she likes to do on weekends, favorite music, movie, all that shit—and you’re fine.”
“We did that. Talked about that stuff, I mean.”
“And?”
“And, we talked at her place. So we could get comfortable with each other.”
“Great idea.”
“Yeah.” I pause. “Then I realized it wasn’t enough.”
“What do you mean, it wasn’t enough?”
“Well, being in her apartment is one thing. Being around other people…Different.”
“You took her out?”
“Yes. For dinner.”
He nods. “How’d that go?”
“Fine.” Our eyes meet. I look down and busy myself making wet circles on the wooden table top with my beer mug. I think of that kiss. In the doorway between my kitchen and my garage. And I clear my throat. “It went really well.”
“Uh huh.”
Is there a question in that uh huh? If there is, I decide to ignore it. For the time being, anyway.
“Then I realized she needed things.”
“Things?”
“Clothes. For the weekend. Did you ever notice what she wears?”