Lucky in Love (7 page)

“Nothing, I guess I just see what Lisa sees.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“What does that mean?” Where was all of this coming from? And why now?

D. had no intention of elaborating. Instead, he returned to what he was doing and plainly stated, “You'll know when you see it too.” I would have pressed the issue more had Noah not entered the office right then.

“The money all good?” he asked, suddenly eager to get done.

“Yes. Let's lock up and go home.” D. dropped the last money bag into his safe and shut the door. Then he followed the two of us out of the office and out through to the front door, where we waited for a moment as he turned off the last of the lights and set the alarm before we all walked outside together. Noah and I watched as D. locked the doors and then we all said “good night” and went our separate ways. D. home to his lovely wife, Lisa and Noah and I to the nearest diner to satisfy our need for pancakes.

Noah and I had been going to the same diner for years. It was a small 24 hour hole-in-the-wall, that you would never think to go to, unless someone else told you about it. In our case, it had been one of the regulars at the bar. For months he invited us to breakfast on Saturday nights after closing, and every time we drove past the place without stopping. Until one Tuesday night after a concert, we both found ourselves too drunk to make the drive home. The diner was the only thing remotely within walking distance, so we linked arms and turned a five minute trek into a twenty-minute waltz as we zigzagged our way down the empty sidewalks. It had taken us so long to get there that the cold night air had begun to sober us up already by the time we got there. Still, we braved the rather frightening outer exterior and went inside, only to be greeted by the most delicious aroma I had ever smelled in my entire life. From then on, we were there nearly every night after work. Over the years, the late night breakfasts dwindled away as I graduated college and began working days, as a teacher. However, the cravings still hit me from time to time, and when they did, I was glad I knew where to go and who to go with.

I was elated to learn that nothing had changed as we walked in the doors and encountered that same delicious scent we had fallen in love with all those years ago. The enticing fragrance of warm pancakes, sausage, and fresh brewed coffee came wafting through the air. I even picked up the slightest hint of cinnamon. It was reassuring to know that even though the diner had nearly cleared out at this hour, the kitchen hadn’t stopped.

We made our way through the empty aisles of booths and wandered all the way to the back, to sit in our usual spot away from the bulk of the tables. Noah and I had barely sat down, when a familiar face approached the table.

“Haven't seen the two of you in while!” It was Terry. She had been our waitress from that very first night. Seeing her was like seeing an old aunt you never made the time to see and always planned to make more time for after being around her.

“Hey, Terry.” I fought the urge to stand back up and give her a hug.

“You two kids know what you want?” We knew the menu inside and out and yet I always felt compelled to read through it front to back before I ordered.

“You order, then I'll decide,” I said to Noah, who hadn’t even opened his menu.

“Ok, I'll have the scrambled egg combo, please.” The words shot out of his mouth in an instant and he turned back to me, now rolling his eyes at my need to read a menu I had already memorized. However, hearing his order had helped me decide.

“Perfect.  Then I will have the egg and ham sandwich with half fries and half onion rings.  Oh, and can I please get a side of mayo, BBQ and ketchup too?”

“Sure thing, hon'.” Terry was scribbling down notes on a little pad with paper so old and worn, it was almost shredding at the ends.

Noah looked at me with a confused expression on his face.
             

“I thought you wanted pancakes?!” It was more of a statement than a question.

“I do,” I replied happily.

Then, without looking up from her pad of paper, Terry said, “The combo comes with pancakes, honey.  She's going to eat yours.” When she was done writing she looked up and winked at Noah.

“Of course, she is,” he muttered as he handed the menus back to Terry and she scurried off to put our orders in to the kitchen.

Breakfast came and went; still Noah and I remained in that little booth. We spent hours talking and laughing about nothing and everything. Taking the conversation through twists and turns, allowing it to grow more serious at times, before taking it back to a light-hearted chatter, all the while, fitting in some bickering and friendly debating, as it continued to evolve.

“I still can't believe you made that girl leave, so that you could have brunch with us,” I said as I poured a very large amount of sugar into what may have been my fifth cup of coffee at that point.

“Why? That's not exactly what I invited her over for...,” he stated it as though he was making a valid point.

“You are such a jackass,” I retorted.

“What, am I like, supposed to be offended by that?” he replied unfazed.

“I would be, if I were you...” I suggested before taking a sip of my coffee.

Noah thought about it for a moment and then started shaking his head. Clearly, he had come up with a counter argument.

“No, you wouldn't. How often do you get called a bitch and you don't even bat an eye lash?!” It was hard not to laugh as he became more animated and began waving his arms around as if that would in some way help him win his case.

“See, but I don't mind being called a bitch, because I know the true meaning of the word,” I calmly replied, as I carefully set down my hot mug. Noah was all too eager to hear this.

“Oh yeah? And what's that?”

I smiled and slowly explained, “Well, B-I-T-C-H stands for beautiful, intelligent, thoughtful, caring and honest...and you know, it's the honesty thing that always gives us a bad rap.” Feeling rather confident, I leaned back against the cushions and waited for Noah’s response. He appeared to be mulling the whole thing over.

“Beautiful, intelligent, thoughtful, caring... honest... wait, what does the T stand for?” He stopped and looked at me. For a moment I wasn’t sure if he was being serious, but when he didn’t say anything else I had to assume that he really was a moron after all and gave him a look that conveyed that opinion quite clearly.

“Oh right, thoughtful,” he finally said when he realized his mistake.

I sat up and pointed my finger at him, “And that's why there's no ‘I’ in jackass.” Then I leaned back again, laughing at him rather loudly. Noah in return retaliated by chucking a half-eaten piece of cantaloupe in my direction. Lucky for him, he just nearly missed the side of my head.

Our conversation took another turn and before we knew it, another hour had passed. It wasn’t until I caught a glimpse of the ember glows of the morning light through one of the back windows, that I realized how long we had been there.

“Oh wow, it's after 6 already,” I said after glancing at my phone to check the time.

“We better get going,” Noah said as he reached across the table for his wallet and keys.

“That's right, don't want to be late for church,” I said with a hint of sarcasm.

“No, I don't,” Noah replied, completely serious. He pulled some cash out of his wallet to pay the tab and cover a rather hefty tip, given that we had spent the entire night at Terry’s table. Then we left the diner and made the five minute hike back to the bar, where we had left our cars. The sun was just popping up on the horizon as I got into my SUV and made the drive back home.

First Dates And Other Minor Disasters

It was
the following Wednesday and I was at work. It was the last period before lunch and I was hurrying to get the homework assignments up before my class lost complete interest and ran for the cafeteria. I was right in mid-sentence when I caught sight of Noah standing outside my classroom door. Somewhat startled by the sight of him, I momentarily paused and recovered, just as the bell rang, setting my students free. Without hesitating, they all jumped from their seats, completely ignoring the fact that I hadn’t been able to finish my train of thought and their homework assignments were incomplete.

As my 11
th
graders filed their way through the narrow door, Noah managed to slide in past them and into the room. Rather than facing me as he entered, he stood at somewhat of an angle allowing him to check out some of my female students as they walked away. I shook my head in disgust, although part of me wondered if he was doing it just to get under my skin.

“You know you could go to jail for that,” I informed him in case he hadn’t thought of that.

“Relax, that's a mistake I won't make a second time,” He said casually, now walking over towards where I was standing.

“What?” I asked, unable to hide the horror on my face.

“Totally kidding.” He reached up and rubbed the sides of my arms to assure me it had just been a joke.

“What are you doing here?  You never come and see me at work.” It was true. In fact, up until that very moment, I wasn’t aware he even knew where I worked.

“I know, but that may change now that I've seen your hot teacher look.” He was giving me a once over and moving his eyebrows up and down in an approving manner. I instinctively pulled both sides of my sweater to the front in an effort to hide myself from his glare.

“What are you talking about?”

“The hair, the glasses.  You never look like this when you leave in the morning. It's all strict and sexy.” The motion from his eyebrows had now spread to his hands and arms as he was pointing things out and carving my silhouette out of thin air with his hands.

“You think everything is sexy,” I said dismissively as I turned to walk around my desk in order to put a little distance between us.

“On you, yes.” He was nodding vigorously.

“Ok, you're making me strangely uncomfortable now.  Just tell me what you are doing here.” I could only handle so many advances from Noah, before I started to believe they were sincere. A problem I had come to learn most women had when they were around him.

Noah reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope.

“I just wanted to bring you these.  They're two tickets to the concert tonight at the bar.  The band is pretty good and I know you have that date tonight, I thought you two might want to come,” he said as he handed me the tickets. I took them from him, surprised now for the second time since I had looked up and seen him standing outside my door.

“Oh, that's really sweet, Noah, thank you.” I slid the envelope into the side pocket of my bag and then walked back around the desk to give him a hug. When I let go I asked, “So, are you going to be working tonight?”

“Of course, concert nights mean big money,” he replied with enthusiasm.

“Yeah, I remember,” I said quietly as I realized that we were still standing rather close to one another and hadn’t actually broken contact since the hug.

              Suddenly aware of the same thing, Noah took a step back and said, “Well, I better go. Amy's in the car waiting for me.”

“You brought a girl and you left her in the car?” I gasped.

“What?”

“Just go,” I said, as I began shoving him out of the room.

“Ok, Ok.” He picked up the pace on his own and left the classroom, switching into a little jog as he reached the hall.

I felt a sudden urge to hurl one last insult in his direction, so I ran for the door and yelled after him, “I hope you at least cracked the window for her!” Feeling quite satisfied with myself, I went back to my desk and began rummaging around my purse for something suitable to eat.

I rushed home from work later than I had planned, due to some unexpected stragglers from my last English class. Most days, I was eager to engage with my students in any way that pertained to what I was teaching, some days I was even desperate for it. This day in particular, that was not the case, however, as I was in a hurry to get home and prepare for my much anticipated date with Trevor. It had occurred to me earlier that morning, that it had been a while since I had been on an actual date. So long in fact, that I couldn’t quite decide what or who that date had involved. Needless to say, I was anxious to get back out there and not entirely sure how to prepare for it. Nor was I sure if this would be considered our first date or our second, since Trevor and I had initially met at what was somewhat of a date in the first place. Regardless, I wanted to be sure to make a better impression this time around and had been much more efficient in planning this outing than the last. In fact, I had not only made time to shop for a suitable outfit (a pair of tight black pants and sexy top in deep shades of magenta paired with some strappy black heels I had spent a small fortune on), but I had also managed to squeeze in that tanning appointment and a new manicure. There was still the matter of doing my hair and make-up, but I felt confident that I would be able to master those on my own, provided I had a suitable amount of time.

Once I arrived at the house, I quickly made my way inside and threw my bag on the couch in passing, as I did a quick walk through to make sure I was the only one home. Then, I ran up the stairs and hurried into the bathroom, where I showered in record time, while still managing to remember to shave all the vital areas. After that, I felt I had made up for the time I had lost and began to slow down again. Taking my time getting dressed gave me the opportunity to really decide on what I was going to do with my long, thick hair. Rather than style it in some creative fashion and hope for the best, I opted for a simple and straight, blow dry. It may have been boring, but it kept the odds in my favor that my hair would still look the same at the end of the date as it had at the beginning.