Page 11 of Ebbing Tides
It was a dumb attempt at a joke, one that Charlie clearly couldn’t handle as he huffed with a laugh, his face turning red.
“I was thinking more along the lines of, you know, maybe going out to a nice restaurant. Maybe a, uh … a bar or—”
“No, I understand what you’re saying,” I cut him off, worrying now about why he’d come to me specifically.
“Melanie’s a little weird about letting strangers watch her kids, which I completely understand, so we were thinking—”
“Okay, I’m gonna stop you right here,” I said, holding up a staying hand. “Are you asking me to take your sister-in-law out on adate?”
Charlie’s expression faltered at the disdain in my voice. “I don’t really know thatdateis the word I’d use. I mean, Stormy just thought that, since you had gotten along earlier, when you dropped Melanie off at the house, and if you weren’t—but, obviously, if you’re busy or if you …” His voice trailed off as his eyes met mine. “Wait, you aren’t married, right? Stormy said you weren’t, but if youare, then—”
“No,” I interjected, shaking my head. “I was. But, uh … no. Anyway, I’m flattered you asked. Melanie seems nice. But I have to see if my schedule is clear.”
He nodded. “Oh, right, yeah, of course. And if you can’t, it’s fine. Stormy can watch the kids, and I can take Mel out, or vice versa … it’s not a big deal. Stormy just thought … well, you know …” He gestured toward me, and I did know. God, did I.
She—they?—thought they would play matchmaker. Help the poor widowed woman have a good time for a night or two. Just as my sisters and Sid and Ricky had tried to do countless times throughout the years with me. And the good intention was always there—I knew that. Nothing hurtful or malicious was ever meant by it—of course not. But sometimes, their well-intentioned nudge was better left for when it was asked for.And I had never asked Sid to set me up with one of Grace’s coworkers, and I highly doubted Melanie had sent Charlie out to my office.
“Anyway, I’ll get out of your way,” Charlie said abruptly, standing up and heading to the door before he had a chance to overstay his welcome.
That was one thing I appreciated about him. He never gave me the opportunity to come close to getting sick of him.
“Let me know if you’re free this week,” he continued, opening the door. “And listen, if you’re just not into the idea, that’s all right. I just thought I’d—”
“It’s fine,” I told him. “I’ll let you know what my week looks like.”
He gave a curt nod and a faint smile, then left and closed the door behind him.
I stared off, unblinking, for a moment, mulling over what I had just said.It’s fine. But was it though?Wasit fine? Had I only said it was because I was afraid of being honest with Charlie … or was it the most honest thing I’d said in God only knew how long?
“A date,” I murmured to myself, and Lido lifted his head from his bed beside the desk. I looked into his soulful eyes. “I think I might’ve just agreed to go on a date.”
His brows lifted, one by one, before he scrambled excitedly from his bed, his tail waving and his tongue lolling as he rested his head in my lap. I sniffed a quiet laugh as I ruffled his ears and gave his face a sufficient squish, wishing all the while that I could feel that level of excitement without the awful, sour taste of guilt.
CHAPTER FOUR
MONDAY
My wandering mind had kept me busy until it was time to clock out, and with my empty lunch box in one hand and my book in the other, I left the office with Lido leading the way to the truck.
The first burst of color had barely begun to reach across the sky, but I was already pulling out my phone to call one or both of my sisters. I had a feeling neither of them would protest, but I still needed to ask if they had the time to care for our father while I went out with Charlie’s sister-in-law.
Melanie.
The thought of her name lifted my chin a little higher as I opened the truck door for Lido. She wasn’t the woman I had known briefly years ago—she couldn’t be—but it didn’t stop me from thinking about her and associating that name with someone who had, at one point, made me happy. A woman who had lit the darkest moments of my life with sunshine and hope and the possibility that things could always be better, even for a few hours in a dimly lit bar in Nowhere, Connecticut. Her memory had been held so sacred that I couldn’t dare to tell my late wife about it because to admit it had felt sacrilegious, and maybe that was why, now, I felt so …guiltyabout taking this woman out.
A different woman, yes, but one with the same name.
And that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? Laura had been gone for nearly ten years—Christ, how has it already been ten years?And, Jesus, that was a long time. It was a long time to be alone. It was a long time to be wallowing in guilt and pity and so muchsadness that it was a wonder I’d managed to keep the darkness at bay.
For her, I reminded myself. I’d done it for her because she had wanted me to live. But had she only wanted me to live forher? If I’d never gone home with her that Christmas Eve years ago, would she have expected me to pine for her for all of eternity? Would she expect that from me now, so long after her passing?
“It’s not a date,” I said, climbing in behind the wheel. “Charlie said it’s not a date, so … it’s not a date.”
It felt like one though, and when I scraped beneath that rusty old layer of guilt, I found that I actually wanted it to be so.
“It doesn’t even matter,” I said to Lido, shaking my head as I dialed Grace’s number. “She’s going home in a week. No, not even a week now. Six days.”
This woman, whoever she was, was only passing through. She was a blip of time in this wasteland of a life, and no matter how much I thought I liked her after a few minutes in the snow, it didn’t matter.
