Note: My first story. I hope you like it.
Remi meets Alan.
My mind raced as I drove home. What would I tell John if he even noticed I had been out all day?
Alan had said, "Thank you," when he dropped me off. Thank you--is that what it was, what I was, a thank you? I hoped not. I want to be "It's nice to see you again;" and again.
How had my day taken such a turn when it started like so many others? The holidays were over, and I was returning to my old routine, hoping this year would be different.
I stopped to find a book recommended by my friend Patti; the staff was already busy decorating the store for Valentine's Day.
Everyone heard when he entered, banging the snow off his boots. How dramatic, I thought, it was hardly snowing--just an inch or so.
I'm sure I wasn't the only one thinking he must be looking for the hardware store next door.
He caught me looking and headed my way. I turned to move out of sight and collided with an employee carrying a stack of books.
Now, everyone was looking at me as the books crashed to the floor.
He stopped to help pick up the books as I apologized and waited for a chance to slip away.
"Is anyone hurt?" he joked, looking my way.
The store clerk laughed and said she was "okay."
As the last book was rounded up, I thanked him for helping and apologized to the clerk again. Then, as quickly as possible, I was down the aisle and out of sight.
I heard him ask about new fiction and saw him pass by my hiding spot as he strode to the latest arrivals.
A few minutes later, I spied him again, browsing historical fiction, not that I was looking for him.
He caught me looking again, but I didn't immediately look away this time, and our eyes met. We looked at each other momentarily, and then I returned to the bookshelves.
Was there sadness in his eyes, I wondered?
He stepped towards me and asked, "Can you recommend a good one?" pointing to the rows of romance novels before me.
"Oh no," I said, "Just looking for a gift for a friend," as I tried to squeeze past him.
But he reached out and touched my arm, lifting his other arm straight.
"I'm just making sure the path is clear," he said. "We can't afford another collision; they'll toss you out, and then who would I talk to?"
His touch surprised me. It was just a few fingers near my elbow, but protective, not threatening.
"Very funny," I replied, a little flustered, and moved across the store into another section.
I tried to refocus on why I had stopped at the bookstore. I had finished my workout an hour earlier as if anyone would have noticed. John doesn't seem to care anymore. I fear that part of our life is over. But I wish it wasn't, at least not for me.
So here I was, looking for a book. I hoped it would be in the romance section, but I was too embarrassed to ask. Is there really a "Wall-Banger" series of books? Patti had said it was an erotic romance series with more action than usual.
"More sex and less character development" is what she actually said.
I hated myself at the moment. I knew I was fortunate and had so much, but I was also bored and lonely at times. What was my life missing, I wondered.
Well, it was apparent that this cute little shop didn't have that title, but maybe I could find something else to distract me, I thought.
He stood before the Greek mythology section as I turned down the aisle.
He smiled when he saw me and said, "As fate would have it, we are destined to meet." Nodding to the books as if we were characters in a fable.
I tried to remember anything about the Greek gods from the single elective I took at college.
"Watch out, or I may turn you to stone," I said, hoping I was referring to some goddess.
"Oh, you're no Medusa," he said, standing beside me.
He reached for a book about Aphrodite.
"More like the Goddess of love and beauty," he grinned.
Our hands touched when he lowered his arm, and he didn't make any effort to move.
It would have been too awkward for me to move away, so I pretended to browse the Gods. I was trying to casually ignore him, as my pulse quickened.
Was this the distraction I was looking for? I wondered.
Before he could say anything else, I announced, "I couldn't find a gift," and turned to leave.
But he was right behind me when I reached the door and offered to buy coffee.
I hesitated and mumbled something about getting home, but he sensed it was a lie. John had said he might stop at his office, so I was free until dinner. I could use a little pick me up, so I agreed.
He told me his name was Alan, and I told him I was Remi.
Next door, he got the coffee and a muffin for me. He explained that he had to eat gluten-free and that these small shops were a little like Russian roulette.
I have always loved baking and wondered how hard it would be to make gluten-free sweets, but why was I wondering if I could please this man I had just met?
He kept his eyes on me while I looked around to see if anyone I knew was watching.
I didn't recognize anyone, not even the woman I saw reflected in the framed painting on the wall behind Alan. What was I doing here? I've been lonely but where was this conversation leading, I wondered.
Alan made me laugh when he described my face after I practically knocked over the store clerk.
He asked if I noticed the books that fell were part of the Self-Help section and explained that a graphic novel about the joy of group sex had fallen open on the floor.
He teased me that "he'd assumed I was so interested in getting my hands on that book that I had practically tackled the clerk."
He said, "he was thrilled to see that level of enthusiasm from such a beautiful woman."
I laughed and noted that this was the second time he had called me beautiful. What were his intentions?
"My wild and crazy days are behind me," I said. And it was sadly true. When I met John, I was full of life and adventure. At that time, I would have tried anything once. And I mean anything.
We talked about the books we read. My books have always been inspiring novels; I certainly didn't mention the book I had been looking for.
His were about lost loves, missed opportunities, and regret.
Alan turned out to be surprisingly easy to talk with.
