Page 32 of The One I Need
“And that’show I wound up working at Left for Love.”
I don’t know if it’s how Izzy tells a story, or if I’m honestly fascinated with every word that comes out of her mouth, but I don’t think I blinked for the past five minutes as she recounts how she started working for Hazel and what brought them to Nashville.
“And you’ve been there ever since?”
She nods as we slowly walk through Riverfront Park. “Only job I’ve ever had.”
“That’s awesome. So it was your first job out of college?”
“Yup. Thirteen years later, and I’ve never regretted a minute of randomly jumping into a stranger’s conversation.”
“That’s fascinating,” I say. “Because you randomly went to a bar one night, your life changed.”
I see her slightly tense for a second, but just like that, she’s back to normal. Weird.
What isn’t weird is how we’ve been walking for almost an hour now and not once has our conversation stopped or gotten awkward. I’ve been on some dates where I’ve been the only one talking, and some when I couldn’t get a word in. This has been the perfect amount of back and forth. And I’m learning some very interesting things about this woman. I now know that she’s not a chocolate fan, which I think is criminal. Then again, she thinks I’m insane because I will die on the hill that a hot dog is, in fact, a sandwich. The conversation only came up because she insisted on stopping by a hot dog cart as we were leaving the comedy show. I also now know that she hates surprises and that I should never do what I did tonight ever again.
All I heard in that last statement was that there was going to be an again.
“So, what does Oliver do? Let me guess. Sales. You scream salesman.”
I laugh. “Strike one.”
“Okay…” she says as she looks me up and down in deep thought. “Human resources.”
“I guess part of my job is human resources. I do have to solve the conflict of why it’s best to share the Play-Doh instead of stealing it.”
“Huh?”
I laugh. “I’m a teacher. First grade. And a high school football coach. The Play-Doh negotiations are with the tiny humans. Most of the time. And like you, it’s my first job out of college.”
“Wow,” she says, like she’s truly in shock. “That one didn’t even cross my mind.”
“Why not? You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who would genderize employment.”
She shakes her head. “Not anything of the sort. I was just wondering how you, or really anyone, does that? I can’t handle my niece and nephew, and I only see them through FaceTime at Christmas. And you deal with other people’s children for an extended part of the year on purpose? It just baffles me.”
This isn’t the first time I’ve heard that, yet it always makes me laugh. “I do, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”
She turns to look at me, almost as if she’s assessing me. “You’re quite the riddle.”
“Meaning?”
“Just when I think I have you figured out, you throw a curveball.”
“Apologies. I didn’t realize I was that hard to get a handle on.”
“In your defense, neither did I,” she says. “But let’s replay this. I meet you at the wedding. You’re drunk as shit, and you ask me to dance. You don’t take the hint. You proceed to get more drunk with me and at one point propose marriage. Even after I say no, you keep going on about love and marriage, and blah, blah, blah… At that point I had you pegged for a guy who had just gone through a breakup and didn’t have enough time to get another date, so he was a little sad at a wedding alone.”
“Actually, that’s right,” I say. “She actually broke up with me a few hours before the wedding.”
“I’m sorry,” she says. “Though I’m not sorry I at least got that one right.”
“Glad to be of service,” I tease. “But please, continue, this is fascinating.”
Izzy hesitates for a second before continuing. “Can I be frank with you?”
“Well,” I say in the most serious voice I can muster. “I prefer you just be Izzy, but if you want me to call you Frank, I’ll do it.”
