Page 7 of Saving Shepperd

“What? What are you looking for? Please don’t rush off. I don’t think you should drive so upset. Please.” I stepped in front of her while repeating my concern. I reached for her hands, but instead of allowing me to hold them, she quickly drew them in close to her body.

Okay, that hurt a little bit.

“Listen. I’m really sorry. Can we just calm down and not end a great night like this?” I tried again and was starting to lose my patience. I mean, for Christ’s sake, how many times did I have to apologize? I still wasn’t one hundred percent clear about what I did wrong.

In one long, rushed sentence she gave a brief explanation. “You don’t have to keep apologizing. It’s me. My baggage. Where the fuck did I set my purse?”

Apparently that was all the explanation I would get.

“I believe it’s in the kitchen.” I was about to offer to get it, but she beelined out of the room to fetch it herself, and I stood there like a helpless idiot and watched her.

At the front door, she finally paused. I’m not sure she would’ve if I hadn’t physically put my body between her and the exit.

“I had a great time. Thank you for cooking for me. It really was delicious,” she rushed out and punctuated the platitudes with the fakest smile I’d ever seen.

What in the actual hell was going on? The woman’s entire personality transformed from the person I just spent the evening with to this wild, spooked colt.

“Uhhh, you’re welcome?” I replied with a questioning tone. I continued to hold out hope that she’d snap out of whatever she was dealing with. But then I had a flash of clarity and stepped out of the way. I’d had my share of dealing with crazy girls in the past, and if that’s what was happening, she could go. I didn’t have the time or the inclination to get involved with a nutcase again.

And what a bummer of a realization that was. I watched her hurry down my front walk and jump into her car like she was a trauma surgeon rushing to meet a patient in the operating room. Until her red taillights disappeared around the bend in my street, I stood on my sidewalk and watched her go.

When I came back inside, I locked the door behind me and, just for a moment, rested all my weight back against the thing. I had a sink full of dishes to clean up and a second bottle of wine I had just opened to finish while I did so. Not at all how I hoped the night would end, but, well, here I was. I decided to call my brother Jacob to talk while I did the chores so I wouldn’t stew in my head.

His phone rang three times, and I was about to end the call when he picked up.

His deep voice blasted through my phone. “Hello?”

“Whatcha doin’?” I asked with uncharacteristically lazy language.

“Law?” he asked in reply, already confused by my unusual greeting.

“Yeah, man?”

“What’s wrong?” Just from the tone of my voice, my brother already knew something was bothering me. It was the plus and minus of our close relationship. When it came to me, his bullshit meter was finely tuned.

“Why are you asking me that? Can’t a guy just call his brother to say hi?” I tried to infuse the retort with lightness instead of the annoyance I was harboring. He had nothing to do with any of the feelings upending my normal calm, and it would be unfair to pin them on him.

“I suppose a guy could. It’s just thatyouwouldn’t. So out with it,” Jake carefully demanded.

“Seriously, nothing. I was just doing a little check-in,” I tried again. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why I wasn’t just spilling my guts about the real issue. Probably because I didn’t quite know myself.

“You’re so full of shit,” my brother teased. “Okay, what’s her name?” Without realizing it, he’d hit the bullseye of my issues with one question.

“Shepperd.” I sighed while scraping her uneaten portion of dinner into the trash. “She’s that hottie from the gym I’ve been telling you about.”

“Daaaammnn,” he drew out like a teenage girl.

“What?”

“It’s been a long time since a female had you this turned around. You’ve been talking about this one for a while. Normally you’ve conquered and moved on three times over in this amount of time. Either she’s something special or you’re losing your game, brother,” Jacob teased, and the assertion rubbed me wrong. Probably because it was really close to the truth.

“Well, we played cat and mouse for longer than I usually put up with, that’s true. Tonight, she finally came over for dinner. And yes, before you ask, I made pasta. It’s all I have in the skillset unless she wants boiled chicken and steamed brown rice.”

“Isn’t it early for her to already have left, then? Can’t help you with your blue balls, dude. You’re going to have to handle that on your own.”

“Ha, funny. Blue balls I can handle. Mind fucks, not so much,” I admitted.

“Okay, tell me what happened,” Jake sighed with the brotherly understanding I was hoping for.

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