As I Close My Eyes (8 page)

He walked into a pizza shop a few storefronts down from the café. I clung to the wall of the restaurant and peered in from the side to watch him. I wanted to see him up close again because I wasn’t sure I could go through with my grand plan.

He stood in line and ordered lunch and I thought I should go inside, but quickly decided that was a dumb idea. What could I say inside a little pizza restaurant that would be profound enough to make him notice me? I quickly walked back to my table at the café when I saw that he had his food. He came out just as I sat down and made his way back to the bookstore. He definitely worked there.

I stayed in my chair and he stayed in the store. At around two o’clock I finally got up the nerve to go across the street.

Placing my little book into my purse, I left the safe haven of the café with my courage diminishing by the second. I couldn’t believe I was actually going to introduce myself to this man.

The chimes on the door as I entered made a few heads turn and we caught each other’s eyes instantly. He walked towards me as he smoothed his hair back to make sure every strand was in place. This man was a work of art, just like the books that surrounded him.

“
May I help you?” he asked, with a hesitant smile.

“
Yeah, um ... this might sound a little strange, but I was in here last weekend,” I started to say before he interrupted me.

“
With your friend,” he began. “And your....” He didn’t finish his sentence, but pointed to his nose and made a face like he was in pain. I couldn’t believe he remembered me.

“
Yeah, my nose. I fell water skiing, but it’s good now.”

“
Ouch! Glad it’s okay now, although it still looks a bit sore.”

“
It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“
So what can I help you find?” he asked.

“
Do you work here?”

“
Sort of. I own it,” he said. His smile widened with pride.

“
Oh, you own it.” I was amazed that someone his age would own a bookstore like this. He couldn’t have been much more than twenty-five or twenty-six. “Well, I love the name.” 

“
You don’t know my name,” he said, obviously confused.

“
No, I meant the store. But since you mention it, what is your name?”

“
Ben. Ben Sheffield.”

“
Hi, Ben.
I’m Danielle.
Danielle Grayson.” I figured I’d go with the James Bond game we were playing. I couldn’t believe I was actually having a conversation with him. I normally would never talk to someone as attractive as Ben because I’d feel inferior and unattractive in his presence. Something about him made my inhibitions escape me. His features were so familiar to me. He really did resemble Robert from my dreams. Then I thought about when Caroline first saw Robert from across the park. I felt the same way now as I stood with Ben for the first time. I wanted to reach out to make sure he was real.

“
Pleasure to meet you,” he said. I paused, taking in the inflection of his words. In my head, I heard Robert saying, “I thought I’d lost you.” They sounded exactly the same.

“
Same here,” I replied with a huge smile on my face. This was going better than I expected. Much better.

“
So what can I help you find today? A gift for someone? Something for yourself?”

“
I’m not looking for any book in particular. I was actually looking for you,” I said. I couldn’t believe that actually came out of my mouth.

“
You’re gonna think I’m completely nuts. In fact, I think I’m nuts. Anyway, I was at Fiorentinos last weekend. You know, the Italian restaurant? Of course you know - you were there. Well, I was there with my friend and I saw you. And then I saw you again in your store, only I didn’t know it was your store.” I was nervous and rambling.

“
Yeah, I saw you in the restaurant, too, and then in my store,” he replied.

I never noticed him noticing me at the restaurant. Maybe I was too occupied with him chewing his steak and the beautiful brunette he was with that I wasn’t paying enough attention to where he was looking.

“
You saw me in the restaurant, too?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“
It was hard not to notice your face. I mean, I was thinking you got really beat up or something. I actually found myself worrying about you when I didn’t even know who you were. In fact, I think I missed a lot of the conversation with my dinner guest. I’m not sure she was very happy about it.”

“
Really? I’m sorry about that,” I replied, trying to conceal my pleasure.

“
I didn’t mean to say that you looked horrible or anything,” Ben said. “What I wanted to say was that I was wondering who would do that to such a beautiful face. And then you came into the store and I wanted to talk to you more, but you and your friend left so quickly.”

“
You can rest assured that no one hit me. I’m just a klutz. We left so quickly because I was really nervous.”

“
Listen, I close up the bookstore at six tonight. Why don’t you come back and meet me here for some dinner?”

“
Really?” I was stunned. Did he really just ask me to dinner in his bookstore? “Okay, that sounds great. Do you make it a habit of inviting strange women to your business for evening meals?”

“
Not usually. You just intrigue me, I guess. I’m glad you came back.”

We stood for a second, smiling at each other.

“
I’ll see you back here at six then,” I anxiously replied.

I turned to walk out the door and could feel his eyes on me as I exited. I smiled to myself and floated across the street to my car.

As I drove back to the cabin I felt a high I had never felt before. I tried to talk myself down, to not get my hopes up too much, but I couldn’t. I needed to enjoy this moment and revel in the fact that he didn’t kick me out of his store - he invited me back!

I took an extremely long shower - a total of fifteen minutes, which was longer than I had ever bathed - and turned on the radio, dancing happily around the room. With a make-up brush I had never used before, I applied blush and lipstick in the exact places Shannon had taught me when we were in fourth grade. It was refreshing to see my face brighten. I added bronzer along my cheeks to define my features and a heavy gloss with an extra touch of lip plumper to my mouth. The make-up, along with the blue cotton sundress, created a feeling of confidence I greatly needed.

The purple button-down shirt he wore today with the same dark jeans and black belt gave him a more modern look than his hair allowed. And his voice had a tone that captivated me. It was deep, but intelligent and soft.

The agony of waiting three hours before I could see him again was driving me crazy. I paced around the room and checked the clock. Only ten minutes had passed. Frustrated, I decided to go for a walk to pass the time.

As I came to the same bridge Shannon and I walked the weekend before, I stopped in the middle to gaze at the water below. It was more like a creek under the bridge. Smooth stones peeked through the clear water and a bullfrog on the shoreline jumped in to escape my presence. It was a typical southern day - humid and sticky. I didn’t want to linger too long outside because I’d be a sweaty mess walking back to the cabin. Even under the shelter of the large trees, what little sun came through scorched my skin from the heat.

So many memories were created here. We came to this spot the day the four of us graduated from high school. We came to this spot when Justin died. We came to this spot for no reason at all but to just get away. I wanted to create more memories. Happy memories with Ben. I wanted to show him this place. I was sure he already knew about it, but not in the way I knew about it. Okay, so I was jumping the gun a bit. I always got so excited about things before they had time to develop, and many times, that meant I got rejected. This was going to be different, though. I could feel it.

Chapter 7

I tried to focus on something other than Ben, but I couldn’t get my mind off him. The walk didn’t help, so I wandered back to the cabin to freshen up. Droplets of sweat began to bead near my hairline as I sauntered along the windy road. I needed to be inside where there was air conditioning.

I watched the clock change minutes as I sat on the edge of the bed; staring at the glowing green numbers until it was time to see Ben again. The room was set at a comfortably cool sixty-six, yet I was sweating and my heart was racing. I placed deodorant in my purse, just in case.

I got into my car and prepared for my next encounter with the man of my dreams. As I drove to meet him, I became more and more amazed by the fact that I was in another town, away from my parents and everyone I knew, driving to see a person I’d never held any sort of meaningful conversation with until this afternoon. What was I doing? No one knew I was here and how would I explain all of this later? Many things made me nervous, but this was about to cause a complete meltdown.

When I arrived at five fifty-three, no one was in the store and I could see Ben cleaning up for the night. Instead of just walking in, I knocked on the door as if this was his home, wondering why on earth I had done that.

Ben laughed as he approached. “You didn’t have to knock, you know.”

“
Sorry, I don’t know why I did that.”

“
Don’t be sorry. Are you hungry?”

“
Starving.”

“
If you want to wait here, I’ll run across the street to Al’s and grab us some pizza. There’s some beer in the fridge behind the counter. Help yourself, Danielle.”

“
Okay, thanks,” I responded, feeling giddy that he remembered my name.

Ben raced out of the store and I watched him run across the street to the pizza restaurant. His decisiveness was a very attractive quality.

While he was gone, I thought I’d take the chance to peruse the store a little. It was one of those bookstores you’d see in movies with the big wooden ladders that connect to the tops of the bookshelves. I wandered through rows and rows of books, running my fingers along ancient, leather-bound hardbacks and battered volumes of non-fiction. My index finger stopped over a copy of The Fountainhead, and I pulled it from the shelf. I moved my thumb up and down the worn spine, flipped it open and wondered if it was real. Oh God, it’s an original. I promptly put it back. I turned, and noticed, high up and untouched - probably because the cost was more than my car - a never-before-seen printed work by Jack Kerouac.

Ben had to have had some money to open this store. It wasn’t your average Tallulah citizen who was going to walk into Something Old and spend thousands on a first edition novel written centuries ago. He probably went months without anyone buying anything. The money Ben had may have been what I pictured when I thought of the owner of Something Old, but I was way off on his looks.

Towards the back of the store sat an old mahogany desk with his Mac computer resting on top. The walls between the grand shelves were decorated with abstract art of sharp lines and colorful paint splats. Three ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling and massive, wooden tables sat underneath them with piles of antique books on top. The novels weren’t any more organized than when I was in the store the first time.