Heather sat in the passenger seat of Gil's Escalade wearing a simple yellow sundress and a smile that told of a secret she couldn't wait to spill into the first friendly ear she could find.
Gil couldn't remember when he realized that she wasn't wearing her usual blue denim jacket, torn blue jeans, and concert t-shirt outfit, but his eyes kept getting drawn to her bare legs and generous cleavage like a magnet.
Never once in two years of driving the young woman home from babysitting his twins had he ever noticed what she was wearing, but since she got in the car, every time his eyes had wandered in her direction, he did his best to remind himself that she was twenty and he was forty-two and happily married.
That didn't stop him from looking, though.
Heather was the kind of girl who easily blended into the background until you got to know her. If you were lucky enough to spend more than a few minutes with her, you would notice her big, dimpled grin first, because she didn't smile often, then her youthfully soft face, long curly brown hair, and soulful brown eyes and you would realize that her beauty was only matched by her sweet nature.
It was the second-to-last time that he would be driving her home. Next time would be from his twin's thirteenth birthday party the following Saturday, and they had agreed, that is Heather, Gil, and his wife Alice, that her regular weekend babysitting job was ending. The twins could now be trusted to fend for themselves for a few hours every Saturday night. It had been a bittersweet conversation for all. Heather agreed because she would be moving away soon once she had decided on which university she was transferring to, but it didn't make the prospect of having to say goodbye any easier.
"So," Gil said has he turned them onto the highway, "have you figured out where you want to go yet?"
"It's between Berkeley and San Diego State, now. I can't believe I got accepted to six different schools."
"I do," Gil said, almost leaving it at that, but he couldn't help himself. "Heather, you are probably the most focused, motivated person I've ever met." That felt like an understatement; her acceptance rate was almost as extraordinary as her legend-in-her-own-time grades and stellar citizenship.
"Oh, come on, you're just being nice."
"No, I'm serious. You worked your butt...you worked so hard to get where you are, kiddo. It's why you have so many opportunities. Not a bad problem to have." Heather nodded, believing him even if it didn't feel true. Part of the reason that Heather liked babysitting was the hours of study time she got when her mind was sharpest, late at night. She never believed that the hard work would amount to much more than a report card she wasn't ashamed of. "What do your folks think about you moving so far away?"
"I don't know, I haven't asked them. I don't think I care, anyway."
They lapsed into awkward silence. Gil had heard about the difficulties between Heather and her parents second hand through Alice. He had plenty of opportunities to bring it up before but never had, preferring to chat with her about her favorite bands and upcoming shows instead.
"What do you think about me moving away?" Heather asked.
Gil hesitated. He felt sad that his twins were losing such a good influence, happy that she had turned two years of grinding at community college into her pick of universities, proud because she was a young woman just getting started on what was going to be an amazing life.
"I'm happy and sad," Gil admitted, leaving it at that.
"Me too," Heather agreed. "I don't think I'm going to miss home at all, but there are some things I will miss a lot."
"Oh yeah, what's that, kiddo?"
"Well, first of all is the shows."
Gil had chauffeured Heather and her best friend to several concerts in the past couple of years. Most of the artists he'd never heard of but after the second time driving them, he stopped living vicariously through her and started buying a ticket for himself. "Frisco and San D both have lively concert scenes," he added, trying to be helpful.
"True. But somehow, I think that it won't be the same." After admitting that Heather clammed up.
Gil could tell that she was holding something back but couldn't fathom what it might be. "What else are you going to miss?" he pressed.
"I, uh, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but..."
"Wrong way?"
"Yeah, like, I don't know, I feel like I have to say it, you know, before I go."
"What's that?"
"You. I'm going to miss you," Heather's voice hitched. "Like, a lot. The most."
"Miss me? Me?" Gil asked, astonished. He fully expected her to say the twins or her school friends. Never in a million years would he have guessed that answer from her.
"Yeah, well, you must know by now," Heather began. Gil could see her biting her lower lip in the light of passing cars. It was by far her cutest nervous habit. "I mean, how I feel. About, um, you."
"Me? No," Gil protested. He was often in the dark about what people thought or felt about him, a deliberate choice in some cases. But he was serious, he'd never once thought that Heather held anything in her heart for him other than casual friendliness. "No, I... I never."
"You don't?" Gil shook his head. "Gil, I've had a crush on you since we met. Like, this whole time."
Gil sat with that information for a couple of miles.
"Are you going to say something?" Heather asked, making Gil jump.
"What do you want me to say?"
"I don't know," Heather sighed, "anything. When was the last time a girl surprised you how with she felt?"
"Uh, it was, ah, Alice, a long time ago," before you were born, he almost added. "I mean, Heather, listen. Seriously, listen." Gil searched for what to say next but all that came out was a raspberry of discomfort.
Heather laughed. "You ever notice that you aren't able to talk when you are nervous?"
"I mean, what am I supposed to do with that...information?" Gil hated how defensive he sounded to himself. It wasn't like the girl was attacking him or accusing him of something.
"Well, how do you feel about me having a crush on you?" Heather countered.
"Flattered? Baffled?"
"Ooookaaay..."
"Since you met me?"
"Yep."
"Heather, I'm twice your age. I'm married." Gil hoped that would be the end of this awkward conversation, but there was a small, distant, nearly forgotten part of himself that desperately wished that it didn't.
"Yeah, about that," Heather said confidently. "Do you want me to tell you what Alice said when I told her about how I feel?"
