Page 24 of Baring All
“Anyone I know?”
“No. We met a little while ago, but we don’t hang out often.” In an attempt to avoid any more questions, I go back to her original one. “So, when works for you?”
“There’s that new place on Marigold I’d like to try. so maybe later in the week then. I’ll give you a call tomorrow so we can decide.”
“Hmm, I’ve heard good things about it.” Successful in diverting her attention, Mom and I chat about this and that for a while.
“I’m going to let you get on with your morning, sweetheart – don’t want you to be late. We can continue to catch up tomorrow. Love you.”
“Love you too, Mama.”
I told my mother about my “meal with a friend”, now I guess I should tell the “friend”. Pulling up my messages, I open Bear’s message.
[Me]:Good morning. Slept fine, thanks. How are you doing?
No reason for me to bore him with the truth. Almost immediately, it pops up that he’s typing.
[Bear]:Doing good, thanks. Would be better if I knew you were going to have lunch with me though.
[Me]:What did you have in mind?
[Bear]:Like I said, I’d like to make things right with you. Would really like to treat you to lunch.
[Me]:I’d like that. Where?
[Bear]:We can go wherever you’d like. Whatever you’re in the mood for.
[Me]:Hmm. I don’t have any preference. Why don’t you pick the place and let me know where to meet you?
He doesn’t answer back immediately, and I’m beginning to wonder if he’s regretting his decision. I know it makes me a cow, but I don’t want to make this too easy on him. Just when I think he’s going to disappear on me again, the app shows him as typing.
[Bear]:How about this? Why don’t I come pick you up, and we can decide together?
I can’t help the happy skip of my pulse at his words. Cautioning myself not to read too much into it, I still want to say yes.
[Me]:Sure. Give me a half hour to dash through the shower and get ready?
[Bear]:I have something I need to do real quick. Can we make it an hour?
[Me]:An hour works. See you then.
[Bear]:Looking forward to it.
A goofy grin on my face, I hurry to my bedroom to get done. It may be a friendly lunch, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to look my best.
* * *
Savoringthe last bite of my food, I sit back with a happy sigh. I’ve barely placed my fork down when our server materializes beside me.
“May I tempt either of you with some dessert?” he asks.
Bear looks over at me, a dark eyebrow quirked. Sunlight floods over our table next to the window of the seafood restaurant we finally settled on. My gaze snags on the network of tiny scars on Bear’s left temple. My curiosity is once again piqued as I contemplate how he got them. I’ve not yet found the courage to ask. I’m not one hundred percent convinced I want to know.
“Eloise?”
“Hmm?”
“Eloise.”
