Page 7 of Andy

“Will we be able to open tomorrow?”

“Um, I think so. We’ll have an officer here tonight, and then tomorrow, there’ll be one out in the lot, just for precautions. The dog gave the place a good sniffing, and he didn’t find any more devices. So I’m certain the scene will be cleared. Since it’s an ongoing situation, we’ll keep in contact. I’m glad no one was actually hurt, well, other than the robbers when that guy punched them. They deserved it. It could have gone so much worse.”

“Yes. Did you ever figure out what the explosives were for?”

The man shook his head. “No, ma’am. We don’t know. I’ll be in contact later.”

She nodded and stood. “Thank you for your help.”

The man might have blushed. “It’s what we do, ma’am. Now then, how about we lock up?”

“Sure.”

Mel followed the detective through the building, telling him where to go next. After walking the entire building and checking in the bathrooms like usual to make sure no one was inside, she left through the front door and locked up. It felt odd leaving this early, and like this. Her whole day had been weird, and now it was continuing.

As she made her way to her car, she thought about Andy. Meeting the guy had just been by chance. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him before and figured she would never see him again. It was the story of her life. Meet a good guy, and they disappeared. But the bad ones sure as heck liked to stick around.

“Miss Fielding, are you okay driving home?” the detective asked.

She turned to face the detective and nodded. “I’m fine. I can drive.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Mel turned back to her car and clicked the remote. She moved to open the door and then noticed a slip of paper under her windshield wiper. Agitation hit first, but the paper wasn’t large like the fliers that sometimes got placed under the wiper. She moved to grab the note but paused. What if this was something to do with the robbery? She was overreacting. She grabbed the slip of paper and opened it.

I had to leave before I got a chance to talk to you. If you want to talk, here is my number. Andy.

A thrill slid through Mel. Why was she so excited about having Andy’s phone number? She didn’t know the man and shouldn’t be hyped up because he left her his contact information. She wasn’t a teenager, though the butterflies in her stomach were making her feel like one.

She slipped into the driver’s seat and stared at the slip of paper, taking a photo so she would have the information even if she lost the paper. Getting excited was premature. He might have left the number because he was kind and wanted to make sure she wasn’t still freaking out.

Understandably, she’d been upset during the bank invasion. Who wouldn’t be shook facing men with guns? She’d feared what those men would do to her, feared what they would do to Andy and everyone else. But him leaving his number made her quake for a different reason.

She started her car and pulled from the lot as she thought about her past dating history. The men who were interested in her weren't the best. Most guys wanted something she didn't have. No question, her lack of weight meant she didn't have big boobs or hips. Her rear was small, and her curves were almost non-existent. She was short and had issues keeping weight on. If she didn’t force herself to eat extra food, she ended up looking like a pencil. Only a few times in her life had her weight dropped so low that she needed medical intervention. She tried eating enough, but even with adding shakes to her meals, she sometimes had problems.

She knew not to talk about her weight issues with most people. They didn't get that her inability to keep weight on was a health problem. It wasn't like she was starving herself on purpose, but there were times when worry and anxiety kept her from remembering to eat.

Once home, she showered and then slipped into her sweats and a loose T-shirt before sitting down to eat some leftover pizza. Her body hadn’t given her hunger cues all day, mainly because of the robbery, but she knew too much time had passed since breakfast, and she had to consume something.

She pulled up the photo of Andy’s number and noticed that her phone was highlighting the numbers. Technology made it too easy now. She didn’t want to call because then she would feel the pressure to be entertaining and just didn’t have it in her. A text would be good enough.

As she finished her slice of pizza, she thought about what she wanted to say. She should thank him. Based on what she’d overheard from the police, the guys who’d robbed the bank had a lot of explosives. It could have been very bad.

After tapping his phone number and then choosing to send a message, she typed in a few words and then erased them. She didn’t want to come off as pathetic, but she was afraid that was all she could do.

This wasn’t a guy interested in her. He was just being nice. They’d come through a harrowing experience and survived. He was just worried because he’d seen how upset she’d been. A quick text thanking the guy wouldn’t mean anything and then she could find more calories to consume so she didn’t drop too much weight from this experience.

She typed out a quick text, thanking him, and hit send, not putting too much more thought into what she should say. He wasn't interested in her and wouldn't be. He was just being nice. After she hit send, she realized she hadn't told him who she was and added a text telling him that it was Mel, the woman from the bank. She felt stupid, like she’d messed up. Messing up with guys seemed to be her thing. Awkward could easily be used to describe her.

Her phone buzzed, and she reached for it but knocked her phone to the floor, and it slid under the side table.

“Ugh,” she grumbled as she got on her knees and then reached for her phone. The device rang, and she lifted up, smacking her head on the table as she swiped the screen to answer. “Hello,” she barked.

“Mel, are you okay? It’s Andy.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just dropped my phone, then smacked my head getting up from under the table.”

“Do you usually sit under the table?”