There were only two other people on the bus, but I decided to sit next to Rachel. She didn't seem to mind.
Before sitting, I took off my sweatshirt, gave it a shake and handed it to her. "You can at least cover your legs. Our chariot ride is going to be cold as hell."
Rachel reluctantly took the sweatshirt and put it over her legs.
I sat down.
"Now you're only wearing a thin T-shirt." She looked over at my arms. "Wet T-shirt is a good look for you, by the way." Her hand flew to her mouth. "Back in there, drunken Rachel. You're embarrassing yourself."
I laughed. "Drunken Rachel? Something tells me you're a lot of fun on a date. And just to even out the playing field, if this bus weren't basically a rolling refrigerator, I would not be asking you to cover those legs."
Rachel laughed and adjusted the sweatshirt so her legs were almost completely covered. As she lifted her arm, her coat sleeve fell back, exposing the tattoo on her forearm. It was the first clunker moment since I'd walked over to help her with the door. It reminded me that she was taken. Something that wasn't the least bit surprising.
"So, what's he like?" I asked.
She looked over, confused.
I motioned toward her arm. "Lucky Jack. That's my name for the guy. Let me guess. He's six foot plus, has wavy blond hair, he's won three surfing championships and he drives an electric Hummer."
She laughed and it was a sound I was already getting really used to. "Hmm, that is quite specific, but I need to tweak a few details. He isn't quite six feet tall." She looked over at me. "He does have wavy blond hair, and he yells when I brush it because it is so thick and it gets tangled. He doesn't surf, but he doeslike to take long baths with dinosaurs, and this morning he was wearing enough ketchup for an extra-large order of fries."
I stared at her. "That was not exactly the image I had of the lucky man who'd stolen your heart."
"Well, Jack is definitely the stealer and forever keeper of my heart. He's my three-year-old son, and before you start trying to guess what his dad is like, I'll get ahead of that. He rode a motorcycle, had brown hair and a nice smile and we dated for all of three weeks before he told me he was feeling too tied down. He rode off on his bike, and I was left behind standing in a crummy apartment bathroom staring in disbelief at the tiny plus symbol on my pregnancy test. I decided to keep the baby and join the big, wide and frustrating world of single parenting. I haven't regretted one moment. Jack is my world."
I was stupidly relieved to know Jack was her son and that his dad wasn't in the picture. It was especially stupid because that meant nothing. There was no way she was single.
"Now that you know some personal details, how about you?" she asked. "Is there a Hummer driving blonde in your life?"
"Not at the moment."
"So, you have a niece, and she makes great pancakes. From a sister or brother?"
"Brother. I've got four brothers, including a twin, only Colin and I are not at all alike."
"Wow, four brothers. I'm an only child. In fact, it was just my mom and me almost my whole life. Now it's Mom, Jack and me. It's nice."
"That would be. My mom's in Ireland. Her home country. My dad was really good at getting married and divorced, and the five of us were so wild—" I paused and smiled. "Our last name is Wilde, by the way, our moms, and yes, there were four of them, decided to leave us with our old man. He owns a ranch with a lot of horses and property, so we had plenty of space to racemotorcycles, jump from trees and break bones. I think I might have the trophy on bone breaks, but my brother Colin is closing in on the title. He's a professional snowboarder."
"Wow, that's a nice little biographical telling of your life. I've already got a picture of a very wild, possibly too careless young man who has probably already lived a dozen lives in a few decades. And is construction a chosen profession?"
I looked at her with a head tilt. "Is waitressing at a diner a chosen profession?"
She nodded. "Touché. Like all good female B students, I was planning to be a teacher, but Jack cut short my college dreams. How about you?"
"Me?" I chuckled. "I don't think the word college ever came from this mouth. Let's just say we had a pretty crazy childhood. My dad, well—" I shook my head. "We all survived. That's something most people in our town were betting against."
Her lips pulled down to a frown. "I'm sorry. That doesn't sound too ideal, even with the big playground in your backyard." She looked up. "If you all had different mothers, then you're half brothers. Except for your twin, of course. Are you all close?"
"Yeah, you could say that. Since we didn't really have a responsible guardian—massive understatement." I laughed. "We had to watch each other's backs. Zander is the oldest. He was watching us more than he let on. We were a lot of responsibility."
"I'll bet. That's a lot to put on a big brother." Rachel glanced up. "Oops. Here's my stop." She handed me the sweatshirt. "I appreciate it." She looked back. "Didn't see you at lunch."
"No, I made a sandwich this morning."
"I'm glad you had some lunch. See you later."
"Yeah, I hope so."