Page 64 of Crashing into Love

On the drive back to Drew’s apartment, things were fairly quiet between them. It was as if Drew had known that Selma would be thinking about what she and Heather had discussed. The whole lunch, Drew had been relatively quiet, letting Selma and Heather talk about Owen and Gia. She had only chimed in a few times and seemed content to sit back and listen. Selma was so appreciative of this woman who had come back into her life, but she also felt more than appreciation, and it was getting harder and harder not to act on it. She wanted to ask Drew out on a date – or, at least, tell her that she liked her – but she had too much going on to date anyone right now, let alone someone like Drew. And that’s assuming the woman said yes to begin with.

Drew would be traveling around the world just like Selma would be, and while sometimes, they’d be in the same place, other times they wouldn’t. Selma already felt guilty about being here with Drew when she should’ve been at home, spending time with her daughter before she left for the training camp. She couldn’t spend much more time away from her kid, so even if Drew were interested and said yes to them going on an actual date, Selma wasn’t sure how it would work until maybe Gia was eighteen and out of the house or, at least, a teenager who didn’t want to hang out with Selma anyway.

“So, I was thinking that there’s this park where people sometimes do bonfires and stuff… It could be fun. They have some beers there and just hang out.”

“And you want to go?”

“We could go. If you want, I mean.”

“How do you know these people?”

“Most of them are boarders or skiers I’ve met over the years. They’re good people, I promise.”

“And you want to hang out with them tonight?”

“It’ll be fun. Someone always brings a guitar and starts playing something. Everyone starts singing. At first, it’s okay singing. Then, some of the guys drink too much, and it turns into very bad singing.” Drew laughed a little. “Anyway, it’s just an idea. Everyone is sort of around our age. I say sort of because you’re, like, ten years younger than me.”

“I think it’s closer to nine, remember?”

“Still…”

“We can go. I wouldn’t mind,” Selma told her.

“Do you sing?”

“No.” She laughed a little.

“Not even badly?” Drew teased.

???

A few hours later, Selma found herself sitting on a tree stump in some park that she hadn’t caught the name of. It wasn’t a bonfire, exactly; more like a regular fire that some guy seemed to take full responsibility for tending.

“He’s very serious about this fire,” Selma noted when Drew sat down next to her and handed her a beer.

“That’s Drew.”

“Um… Are you drunk already? You’re Drew.”

Drew laughed and said, “He’s Andrew, but he goes by Drew, too. Anyway, he’s a volunteer fireman, so he does take it very seriously, making sure we don’t burn the park down. Even though it’s winter, we still have to be careful. Cheers.” She held out her beer bottle for Selma to clink, which she did. “Is it okay? Are you having fun?”

“Your friends are nice, Drew.” She bumped Drew’s shoulder playfully. “And it’s beautiful out here at night.” Selma looked up at the cloudless sky, taking in the stars, before she looked over at Drew, who was doing the same thing.

“I love the mountains. I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else,” Drew said.

“Me neither,” she agreed and took a drink of her beer. “So, when does the bad singing start?”

“Oh, we’ve got to get a few more beers in before that happens.”

“We?” Selma asked.

As Selma sat on the uncomfortable half-frozen log, with Drew next to her, someone pulled out a guitar and started strumming a song that Selma didn’t know. It was a folk song of sorts, she guessed. She listened to the guy with a decent voice, and when others joined in, she realized that Drew was right: it was good singing – at the start, at least. A few more minutes into it, though, Selma couldn’t resist. As the next song started up, she rested her head on Drew’s shoulder and closed her eyes, taking in the smell of the fire, the cold air on her face, and the sounds of the guitar.

???

“Mommy!” Gia yelled.

Gia had been using ‘Mom’ for a while now because she’d heard Kirsten call Kelly that a couple of years ago, and she’d thought it made her sound cooler to be like Kirsten, but whenever she missed Selma a lot, she returned to using ‘Mommy.’ Selma would be lying if she said she didn’t like it. She scooped her daughter up in a hug and held on to her in the lobby of the hotel, watching her grandma walk up behind them.

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