Her face held a hint of a real smile. “I’m good,” she said, but it was whispered and slurred.
The silence stretched on as she studied the menu and I tried to figure out my next move.
The waiter returned. I ordered cioppino, and Juliette pointed to something on the menu.
“Porchetta. Yes, ma’am,” the waiter said, and Juliette’s face flushed again.
Fuck. Did she not like this food? Maybe she couldn’t read well or had a learning disability and that’s why she’d nervously pointed instead of reading the menu?
I was grasping at straws, but I was desperate to understand how she’d changed so much so quickly.
“So, how do you like being an occupational therapist?” We’d touched on that earlier and it seemed like a safe question.
“I, uh—it’s good. Did you always, um, want to be a fireman?”
Well shit, that was a loaded question. I wasn’t ready to share that baggage on a first date, and especially not when we seemed unable to carry even a simple conversation.
“I’ve loved everything about firefighting since I was a kid.” That was true even if it glossed over the years I’d wasted my parents’ hard-earned money on college tuition and a pointless wedding, then tried to pretend I was happy with Kayla and my nine-to-five job as a banker before finally following my dreams. It had destroyed my marriage when I realized I loved firefighting more than my wife...or at least that’s how Kayla saw it, and thank God she did, because that’s when she finally showed me her true colors.
“That’s good. I...uh, I like being an OT. The kids I work with are great. I mean, they’re difficult, but I love them,” she rushed out. “One of my kids, he tied his shoes for the first time last week after we’ve been working on it for two years. He was so excited, and I cried.” Her words were choppy, slurred, and disjointed, and the flow of the conversation was awkward, but at least she was talking.
“And, um, yeah, it’s good,” she continued. “Do you, uh, like being a fireman?”
“I love it. I work with great people, and I’m proud of what we do. Every day is interesting and different.” I tried to think of an easy topic. “Did you grow up around here?”
“I grew up, um, just outside San Antonio. What about you?” Her words were barely intelligible, and her hands and voice trembled.
Fuck. I wanted to pull her into my arms and tell her everything was alright. I wish I’d chosen a restaurant that was quicker. I wouldn’t insult her by leaving before we were finished, but it felt like I was torturing her here.
“I grew up in Canyon Lake, about an hour north of here. My brothers—Eli and Max—and I had fun there, getting into plentyof trouble, and now the three of us live in the city. My parents still live in the house we grew up in, so we go up there pretty often.”
She seemed more relaxed now that I was doing the talking, so I kept going. “Max has two little boys. Drew is eight and Jackson is four. They’re awesome.”
I told her the story about when Max, Eli, and I went kayaking up by our parents’ last month, while the boys watched from the shore. Just as Max and Eli were navigating a tight turn past the dock, Jackson screamed like I’d told him to do, and just as I’d hoped, Eli and Max spun so suddenly towards them, mid-turn, they’d both capsized into the freezing early-spring water.
Juliette laughed! Thank fuck.
For a moment, she looked like the girl at Nolan’s and not the wide-eyed, frightened girl with the fake smile who’d come to dinner.
Once again, my chest squeezed at the depth of the protectiveness I felt towards her.
I’d been enamored with her from the moment I met her, but it was the pool cue incident at Nolan’s that had really solidified my feelings. Jumping up and down, her tits and her curls bouncing, her smile huge. I fucking loved how happy she was. So much enthusiasm over such a simple joy.
Until the damn cue stick hit the ceiling and her face fell, tears flooding her eyes. I’d felt the loss like a punch to the gut. Something I’d never experienced before had me wanting to do whatever it took to put that smile back on her face. I tried to show her that she wasn’t the first person to do that, but she’d given me a tight smile and her eyes stayed sad, the golden glint having faded away.
So we’d continued our game, and I’d flirted outrageously, saying and doing cheesy stuff, anything to bring the smile back.Finally, she’d laughed and her eyes had sparkled again, and I felt ten feet tall.
I was hooked. I wanted to make this girl happy all the time.
I wanted that even more with this shit-show of a dinner.
So I kept talking. I wanted her to smile again, and I wanted to be the one to make her smile.
4
Juliette
Thank goodness Dylan kept talking. The waiter brought our food, and I picked at the mysterious roll of meat. I couldn’t believe he’d let me off the hook that easily. I wanted him to know how much I appreciated him not pushing me to talk or leaving me in awkward silence. Well, not to know that I couldn’t talk, but to know that I liked being there with him, especially listening to him. He was kind and funny, and so thoughtful.