The Girl He Knows (12 page)

I stare at the paper, my heart pounding. I pull out my cell, my finger hovering over his number. Should I call? Should I text? What do I say? I don’t even know what I’m feeling, other than shaking hands and a racing heart. I sit like a stupid lump on a hump until my doorbell rings and forces me to put it aside.

Jake is handsome in crisp jeans and a light cotton shirt. His surfer look makes him appear relaxed and friendly. Like he’s the kind of guy who takes everything in stride and lives to be spontaneous. He looks fun. It’s weird seeing him outside of the bar where I never had this perception before. I ignore the poem repeating in my head and focus on Jake.

He takes me to dinner at a local chain restaurant where he knows the bartenders and is pleased to score us free drinks. Over dinner, he tells me he’s from Ft. Lauderdale and his father is a pilot. Which is why he is attending Embry Riddle University; he, too, is a pilot and wants to own an airline one day. Says he wants to outperform his dad.

“Do you mind skipping the movie and going to the beach? Maybe we can get a drink and walk the beach a bit?” He almost sounds shy.

“Sounds great.” It’s always a positive sign when people don’t need the buffer of a movie to get through the evening. I don’t find being with him as awkward as I thought I would and gamble on it getting better.

We drive over to a popular tourist area and leave his car in a parking garage. The popular downtown pier and boardwalk offer several restaurants that line the beach, thereby making it fertile gathering grounds for locals and tourists. It’s a short walk to the beach and the weather is perfect for slipping off my sandals and letting the warm ocean water brush my feet.

Jake and I join others strolling the beach. A volleyball game is going on about a hundred yards ahead of us, couples are scattered along blankets dotting the sand, basking in the moonlight, and laughter floats across the beach. We walk in comfortable silence.

Jake takes my hand and holds it in his. It’s a beautiful night and everything is perfect, but feels wrong. I have the urge to pull my hand away. Even if I promised myself I’d date and not get attached, it’s as if I’m betraying Hank. Biting back frustration, I struggle with my opposing emotions and have to push back the negative thoughts and doubts. I’m determined to have a normal date, and by all dating standards, this would be considered a normal date thus far.

“Want to stop for a drink?” He interrupts my thoughts and points to a local hotel with an outside patio crowded with people and wrought iron tables. I agree and we snag the last empty table. Jake places drink orders at the bar without even asking me what I prefer. Bonus when dating one’s bartender, I assume. He pretty much knows my repertoire of preferred drinks, although it might have been nice to be asked.

Jake brings me an apple martini and gives me a half smile as he eases into a chair.

His smile seems genuine and not one of a player, which I always imagine to be smarmy, sort of like pilot Ted’s leer.

“I can’t believe you are here with me, Paisley.”

“Why?” I swirl the martini around in the glass. Tonight seems more of a crisp wine night.

“Because I thought you were out of my league. That night when Josie left you alone I thought I’d finally gotten lucky.” He raises his glass, and I meet it in the traditional toast fashion. “Here’s to taking chances. Sometimes they pay off.”

“
Slainte
,” I say and take a sip. Jake’s words resonate with me. I’m not good at taking chances, Hank’s offer being the first in a long time. I’m determined to take more.

A week is a long time for Hank and I not to be in touch. Perhaps I should take the chance and reach out to him. I’m reaching for my phone before I realize what I’m doing. I do a mental head slap. I don’t want to be
that
girl.

“I’ve told you a lot about me; what about you? Are you and Josie close? Hey, if this works out, maybe we can double date with Josie and Brinn. Have you been friends for a long time?”

Jake leans back in his chair and works his beer. He keeps scanning the crowd. Does he want to know about me or Josie? It’s off-putting and comes out of nowhere.

“Ah... I’ve known Josie for over a year.”

“That’s cool. I guess you’re going to their wedding?”

I nod and take a drink. I let the silence fall around us.

“So are you from here?” he asks.

“No, Lakeland.” He gives me a puzzled look. “It’s between Tampa and Orlando. In the center of the state.”

“Oh yeah, I think I’ve driven through there once or twice. Isn’t it somewhat backwoods?” He finishes his beer and signals the waiter for another one.

“Um... I guess it can be. No more than any other town.” I’m a tad defensive.

“I bet you couldn’t wait to blow out of town. Your folks still live there?” he asks and quickly scans the crowd again.

“Yeah, my mom, grandmother, sister, and her family are still there. Actually, I like it. It’s a nice community to raise kids and pretty convenient to everything.”

“Where’s your dad? Back in Scotland? That’s supercool by the way. Do you have a dual citizenship?”

Talking about Scotland reminds me of our yearly family trips over there to visit Nana and of course always leads to memories of my father. I try to keep it simple. “My dad died over ten years ago and yes, I have dual citizenship.”

I take a swig of my drink. The sweetness of the cocktail is strong and I have to force my swallow. I push my glass away and shift in my chair so I’m able to look out at the beach. Thinking about my dad makes me sad. Thinking of Lakeland makes me want to call Hank and go hang out with him instead.

“Man, I’m sorry. Must’ve been hard.”

I nod. Sometimes when I’m alone and I look at a picture of my father, I cry. A deep gut-wrenching cry, too. It still hurts like hell. I don’t know how I would have gotten through any of it without Gigi or Hank or even their mom and Poppy. I don’t know what prompts me to tell Jake my family’s business. Maybe it’s the mood on the beach or the mood I’m in.

“My dad took a job at the Cape. Working for NASA. He was an engineer. My mom was real resistant to moving because I was in high school. They decided my dad would drive home every weekend. He was killed driving back to us one Friday.”

“Wow. How old were you?” he asks.

“Fifteen. Can you imagine the guilt my mother must have for not moving there when he took the job?” I’d never thought of this before. My mind always goes back to the dark days of her struggle, when she stopped getting out of bed or caring about anything, including her two teenage daughters.

“Your parents still got along? Before your dad died?” He seems amazed it’s even possible.

“Yeah. She’s never dated or remarried.” I’m struck with a new appreciation for my mother and my parents’ marriage.

“My parents hate each other,” he tells me. “They are still married, but man, can they fight. It’s nice to be on my own.” He tips back his beer and finishes it off.

“Hey, let’s walk down to the Deck. I didn’t mean to get you depressed and the music there should pick you back up.”

He gestures to my unfinished drink, and I shake my head. Jake finishes it off and reaches for my hand to pull me from my chair.

We make our way to the Ocean Deck, a bar even the tourists know to visit. It’s a local icon and a favorite for the college set and the recently graduated. We enter the bar from the beach side. It’s overcrowded and obnoxiously loud with a local reggae band playing.

Jake turns me around and we head back outside where the volume is more conducive to conversation.

“You want another drink?” he calls out over the bass.

“Just a water please.”

Before he can walk away another guy joins us. The two guys fist bump and Jake turns back to me.

“Paisley, this is John Tolliver. He’s my roommate. John, this is Paisley McAllister. Keep her company, man, while I run inside for drinks.” And he’s gone.

I smile at John.

“Paisley, is it? Your parents named you after one of those amoeba-looking fabric patterns? Were they hippies or something?” He doesn’t smile back and his eyes never leave my chest.

“Your parents named you after a toilet. Were they custodians?” I widen my smile. I did it. I managed a retort right when I needed one. I look to pass off a high five to someone, anyone, but I’m alone.

He sneers and walks off to talk to a very short-legged, large-chested girl. I scan the crowd. Even in college, I hated the bar scene. Now I hate it even more.

Alone on the deck, I look into the bar through the plastic windows. Jake is talking to another girl. He hands her a drink, wraps an arm around her, pulls her close, and nuzzles her neck. She laughs in response to something he says and as they separate, I watch him hand her his keys. They walk to the front door holding hands.

I know I’m a social reject when it comes to dating. I also know as innocent as it seems, it probably isn’t. I look to see if I know anyone else in the crowd who can give me a ride home and come up wanting. I thank my lucky stars I still have my purse and haven’t left it in the car as Jake suggested. At least I’ve done something right this time.

I skirt around the side of the Deck and climb the outside stairs to the front of the building in hopes of finding a taxi. I expect I’ll have to walk to the main drag to find one. Scanning for Jake, I’m relieved to not find him in the crowd at the front of the building.

If this was a date with someone other than Jake, I’d call Josie. I turn my cell over in my palm, picturing the I-told-you-so look she’s sure to give me. I decide to call Jayne, who is never one to judge. She might be able to get here faster than Josie because she hangs out at her parent’s pub, which is nearby. I dial her up, give a quick explanation, and she agrees to come pick me up.

Crossing the street toward Burger King, our rendezvous spot, I focus on looking straight ahead, afraid if I look over my shoulder I’ll see Jake. I pick up my pace when he calls out my name.

Damn.

“Hey, Paisley.” He runs up. His sweet smile makes me look away. “I’m sorry if I worried you. A friend needed to use my car so I walked him to it. You didn’t have to come looking for me.”

“You mean her.”

“What?”

“You mean you walked
her
to your car. And how am I supposed to get home, Jake?”

I keep walking to the Burger King but he jumps in front of me, bringing me to a halt. I look past him, trying not to make eye contact.

“Yeah, him, her, whatever. She’ll be right back. I didn’t think we were going anywhere soon. I don’t know what you saw but I was just helping out a friend.”

Either he doesn’t realize I’m upset, or he chooses to ignore it, but either way causes me to suffer the fleeting sensation that maybe I’m overreacting.

“I have to go, Jake. My friend Jayne called and is having a personal crisis.” I start to walk toward the fast-food chain. “I’m meeting her here. She called while you were walking your friend to the car.”

Coward
. I lie because it’s easier than starting a disagreement here in the middle of the road. I experience a pang of self-loathing
because I don’t confront him about what I saw.

Jake is silent for a moment. He continues to walk beside me.

“I’m sorry you have to go. I had a good time tonight, even if you were going to ditch me without saying good-bye.” His smile is all lip and no teeth.

Jayne drives into the crowded parking lot and honks. I face Jake but take a side step toward Jayne’s car. I guess being married to a man who thought oral sex with his female colleagues didn’t count as an affair since there wasn’t penetration, has left me somewhat gun-shy. Maybe I’ve been hasty in writing off Jake. Maybe she really is only a friend.

I give him a smile. “I enjoyed the night,” I tell him. I mean, I enjoyed it up until now.

“I’ll give you a call.” He gives me a sweet kiss on the cheek.

I run to the safety of Jayne’s car. Unfortunately, my thoughts, fears, and paranoia follow me there.

When I get home, I check my e-mail. I think it’s rude to text and check e-mail when on a date. I also think it’s rude to nuzzle a girl’s neck when on a date with a different girl but, according to Jake I misinterpreted it. The more I replay it, the more I begin to question myself. Maybe he’s right.

Still nothing from Hank, the silence tells me he’s mad. I’ve replayed the morning he left with his friends, ad nauseam, and I hope it’s not because of my date with Jake. I was honest with him. Wasn’t that part of the no-strings-attached agreement?

Jake doesn’t contact me either throughout the rest of the weekend or the beginning of the week. Wednesday is my standard girls’ night out and I’m nervous about seeing him, if he’s working. On the drive to the pub, I find myself going through the dater-remorse cycle. I kick myself for overreacting to what I witnessed inside the bar and how I handled it.

One minute I find myself praising him for his calmness because I basically abandoned him without so much as a see-ya and the next I’m cursing my stupidity and lack of trust in my instincts.

I’m still stumbling around in my head as I make my way into the pub and bump into Josie’s back. She’s talking with Jayne and they step apart, neither meeting my gaze when I say both my apologies and hellos.

One look at Jayne tells me she’s sharing my date escape with Josie. I cast an irritated look her way before I head to the table. Jayne may never judge, but I guess she’ll gossip. I avoid the bar and say hello to Kenley, already seated.

“Where’s Heather?” I ask.

“Heather is having some problems with Tyler and Justin.” Kenley doesn’t elaborate further and takes a long drink from her very large double cocktail. It’s been a hard journey since Tyler’s seizure a few weeks back, lots of doctor appointments and hospital visits. What’s made it worse is Justin, Heather’s dirt-bag husband, hasn’t participated in any of it.

“Anything I can help with? Do they have a formal diagnosis yet?” When the waitress passes, I order a whiskey sour.

“No, definitely a seizure disorder. They’re still ruling out other things. I tried to talk to her again today about letting me help more, but she shuts me out. She may not come tonight because of me.” Kenley orders another drink and I make a mental note to cut her off after this one.