Tempus (8 page)

“Jessie, wait!  Stop!  Close the door!”  He all but shouted the words at me.

“Why, Steve, so you can make fun of me?  So you can tell me how ridiculous I look?  So you can tell me what Dad’s going to say?”  I was furious with him for ruining my mood, so I slammed the door and glared at him.

His eyes darted to my lips and back up.  It was almost too quick to notice, more like his eyes ‘flickered.’  He took a deep breath and said, “Hold on just a second.  I need to move.”

Steve drove the truck around through the parking lot and pulled into a space.  He just sat there while I continued to glare, but I wasn’t quite as angry as I had been at first.  I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but I could tell his mind was racing by the expressions that crossed his face.  If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he was having a conversation with himself.  My dad had those sometimes—internal conversations.

“Okay.  I don’t know what the hel... heck to say.  Umm.”  He ran his fingers through his spiky hair.  I hoped it poked him.  “Okay.  I tell you what.  Are you hungry?”

“That’s a question.  You don’t
tell
a question.”  I said sarcastically.

“Yeah.  Well, are you hungry?  I thought maybe we could stop at that Mexican food place on the way home.  I’m seriously
starving
.  You have to be hungry.  Are you hungry?”

My stomach decided to answer for me, long and loud, regardless of what my plans may have been.  I was honestly starving too, so I nodded my head and turned to look out the window.  I knew I was acting juvenile, but I was annoyed.  If it had been any other guy, I would have said his reaction was because he liked what he saw.  I didn’t read Steve well, and I knew
that
from experience, so I had stopped trying a long time ago.

“So, you did something different to your hair.  It looks really—it’s pretty.  It sparkles.”  He tried to draw me into conversation as we pulled out of the parking lot.  “And those clothes.  They look good on you.  Not your usual stuff.”

All I said was “Mmm.”  It was the best ‘thanks’ I could muster at the moment.

Steve turned up the stereo, but not as loud as usual.  We rode the next few miles in silence, except for the music, and I pulled out my phone and played some dumb game.  I saw him glance over several times.  Some glances lasted longer than others.  I pretended not to notice, and concentrated on making a worm thing eat dots.

When we pulled into the parking lot of El Matador, I put my phone away, disconnected myself from the monster, and hurriedly climbed out.  I was already walking toward the doors before Steve got his own door open.  He jumped down and yelled, “Wait up!”

I stopped and waited until he jogged up beside me, and when we got to the door, he held it open.  I ducked under his arm and stepped inside.

It was dark after being out in the glaring sun and my eyes took a moment to adjust.  We waited in silence until someone came to seat us. She took us to a small table in the dimly lit back area, handed us two menus, asked for our drink order, and told us our waiter would be with us ‘shortly.’ 

Steve opened his menu as she walked away.  “I know what I want.  What do you want?”

I didn’t even open my menu.  I was ravenous, and already knew what I wanted.  I gave him a one-word answer, “Fajitas.”

The waiter came to our table with chips, salsa, and our drinks and then asked for our order.  Steve answered, “Two beef fajitas,” then looked at me for confirmation, so I nodded.  “No appetizers,” he added.

As soon as the waiter was gone, he leaned on the table toward me.  “So what is this?”  He gestured with his hand to indicate
me
.

“I don’t know.  Guess I wanted a change.  I
was
in a good mood…”  The words trailed off.

“What do you mean
was
?  You look fantastic.  I almost didn’t recognize you.  No, I
didn’t
recognize you until you got in my truck.”  He dipped a chip into the salsa and stuck the whole thing in his mouth, crunching.

“Yeah, well.  Thanks, I guess.”  I filled my mouth with my own chip, thinking maybe he would stop talking.  He didn’t.

“So why did you decide you needed a change
now
?”  He stuck another chip in his mouth and crunched.

“
When else?  Now is always best time
.”  I did my best Yule Brenner ‘kings’ accent.  Then I laughed, because I knew he had no clue why I had said it, or why
that
way.  “Yule Brenner.  The King and I.  Watch it some time, get some culture.”  In went another chip, and I crunched.

We went back and forth like that until the chips were gone and the food arrived, then neither one of us was interested in talking.  I didn’t care if I looked like a pig while I ate, I was so hungry.  I couldn’t slap the fajitas together fast enough.  As I ate the last bite of my last fajita, well after Steve had devoured his, I leaned back and realized how tight my jeans felt.  It had been fun dressing up, but I was wishing for a pair of sweat pants right now, one size too big.  I was stuffed.

Steve insisted on paying the bill and left a respectable tip.  I thought I was going to have to ask for help standing up.  Standing wasn’t the hard part; it was the leaning forward first that almost kept me seated.  I managed to push myself up while Steve wasn’t looking, though, and I waddled behind him until he held the door again.  Ducking was not fun.

As we got to the monster, I thought there was going to be no way to raise my legs high enough to climb into that truck, not without exploding.  I got to my side first and just looked, assessing the situation, figuring out how I could lean backwards, grab something, and maybe use my arms to hoist myself in.  Steve reached around me and opened the door, and before I knew what was happening, he had his hands on my waist.

“Grab that handle inside when I lift you up.”  Before I could say a word, he had lifted me to the open door.  I  grabbed the handle in question, but Steve held on to my waist for a fraction of a second longer than necessary.  He released his grip, but did
not
remove his hands.  I pulled myself up, slid free, and onto the seat.  I didn’t say anything, but I smiled as he stepped back and closed the door.  I had forgotten about my stomach.

I didn’t know what to make,
exactly
, of his actions and behavior.  I had avoided his company as often as possible for most of my teenage years.  I didn’t
hate
him, it was more that I was mortified over what had happened, and I never got over it.  I had
tried
to hate him, but never could.  The best I could manage was a version of indifference, facilitated by previously mentioned avoidance.  I wasn’t sure
what
I was feeling now.

He climbed into the driver’s seat, sat there for a second looking at me, then reached across my lap.  Once again, I had forgotten to buckle myself in.  This time I didn’t slap his arm away.  I just sat there, and looked at his face.  His eyes would glance at mine, at the seat belt, and back up again. 

It took him a while, mainly because I think he was
taking
extra time, but I wasn’t entirely sure.  I could smell his cologne.  I could also smell his hair gel, a pleasant, clean, masculine scent.  I didn’t know gels had gender specific scents.  When the belt clicked into place, he left his hands on it and looked up into my eyes for a moment before slowly leaning away and starting the truck.

My heart picked up, just a little.  Just enough for me to notice.  It felt very strange, because I could see in his eyes,
now
, that he was feeling something too.  I had no doubt, and I saw him glance again at my mouth and up, just before he reached over and cupped my chin.  His thumb caressed the corner of my mouth, and I sat there frozen.

“Guacamole,” he offered as an explanation, but he didn’t release my chin. 

I considered whether I should say anything, or wait to see if
he
had more to say, but I couldn’t continue to just sit here, my chin in his hand.  Not with all the questions I had, questions that started popping into my head, one by one.  The first question escaped without warning.  “What about Alecia?”  I screeched that one.  I hadn’t meant to.

He released my chin and smiled.  “Oh, yeah.  You don’t know.  We split up a month ago.”

“But Dad said she was coming back, like you were working so much because...  Why doesn’t my dad know?”

“C’mon, Jessie.  Think for a second and you tell me.”  He grinned at me.

Ah
.  I did know why.  When Steve and Leslie split up, my dad was constantly trying to set him up, and give ‘love advice,’ and asked all kinds of embarrassing questions.  Steve almost quit just to get away from Dad. 
Duh
.  I shook my head and grimaced.

“
Exactly
!”  Said Steve.

“He was just trying to be helpful, you know.”  I tried to construct a defense, but there was none.  I glanced at Steve, our eyes locked, and we both laughed.

“Speaking of your dad, I’m surprised he hasn’t called yet.  I’ve been gone longer than I had planned.  Longer than
he
had planned, for sure.”

I pulled out my new phone, held it up and wiggled it, and said, “Allow me.”

I called the store, and after several rings, the machine picked up.  When it beeped I said loudly, “Dad, if you’re there, pick up!”  I waited for a few seconds, and repeated myself.  He didn’t pick up, so I called the house.  He answered on the first ring.

“
Yellow
.”

“Hey Dad, why are you at home?” 

“I closed early today.  Business was slow, Steve went to lunch, and I was bored.  Really, I just got here.  I was planning to eat a bite then go back, but I changed my mind.  I’d better call Steve so he can just go home and not waste a trip.”

“I can tell him, Dad, he’s right here.  We just got through eating.”

“
Well
,” Dad sounded a little surprised, “Okay.  You on your way home then?”

“Not sure.  I’ll let you know when I am.”  I should have said yes.

“Well.  Okay, I’ll see you when you get here then, I guess.  I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too.  And thank you, thank you, thank you for the phone.  It’s
perfect
.  Exactly what I wanted.”  I hoped he could hear how true it was.  “Bye.”

I heard him say “bye,” then hang up.  I put my phone away and turned back to Steve, who had been politely pretending not to pay attention.  I tilted my head and said, “So what’s the deal?”

“What deal?  There’s no deal.  What do you mean?” 

“You started acting funny this morning when you picked me up.  You talked all the way to the mall.  You acted all crazy when you picked me
back
up.  You’ve called me
Jessie
all day!  You haven’t called me Jessie to my face since my
thirteenth
birthday
.”  Saying that last part bothered me, a
lot
.

“Jessie, I was in
high school. 
You were in middle school.  Teenage boys are
not
that smart, you know.  You scared the crap out of me.”

“I
scared
you?”  I was incredulous. 

“You were
thirteen
.  That
day
!  Think about it from my perspective for just a second.  That was my first job, my
only
job, and you were the boss’s kid daughter.  You’d just lost your Mom, what, six months before that?  Every single thing about it freaked me out.  You were a
kid
!”

“No, no, no.  I’m not saying anything should have been different that day.  Not at all. 
Gross
.  I’m talking about after, the whole ‘kiddo’ thing.  You purposely aggravated me,
constantly
.  You talked down to me, as if I was thirteen forever.  Do you even know how old I am?”  I bet he didn’t.

“Seventeen.”

Surprise, surprise.  “That’s right. 
Seventeen
.  Until today, I was still thirteen to you, and you treated me as less than that.  Maybe you didn’t mean to, but you did.  Do you know I have
never
worn a dress since that birthday?”  Oh, god, I was saying way, way too much.  I didn’t even realize until now how much that had affected me.  It was such a stupid thing, such an unimportant thing, but I had never let it go.

“I’m sorry, Jessie.  Not for that day, but for every day after.”  He reached over, took my hand, and squeezed it softly.  He rubbed the back of it with his thumb, and sighed.

“What?”

“Jessie.”  He took a deep breath.  “How long have we known each other?  Over six years?  More than six years.”  He got a thoughtful look on his face. 

“What, Steve?  Just spit it out, whatever it is.  Just say it.”  I didn’t know what to expect.  Probably
I’m too old for you
.  I felt like I was shrinking, growing younger by the second as I waited.

“Okay Jessie, you asked what the deal was.  Here’s the deal, the
real
deal.  What’s the worst that can happen if I just say it—I’ll go back to calling you kiddo, you’ll go back to ignoring me, and everything will go back to normal, right?”  He leaned over and looked into my eyes, searching for some answer I didn’t have.  I couldn’t answer that question, because I didn’t
know
.  I didn’t know if it could go back to normal
now
, much less after he said whatever he had to say, and wasn’t saying.