Page 39 of L.O.V.E

“Pleasure to meet you, Natalie,” Dad said, clueless to the tension.

“You, too.” Natalie offered Dad a small wave, shot daggers my way, mumbled, “Cole,” and punched the button for the crossing signal.

I glued my gaze to my father so as not to watch her walk away, so as not to give away my unfaithful thoughts. I only relaxed when, through my periphery, I noted she’d made it across the street and inside the building opposite from where we stood.

“Shame what happened to that girl.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I remember right, she was tormented in high school. There was a big scandal involving her and her cousins, Joe’s kids.”

“Didn’t know that.”

“She’s a fighter, though. Didn’t quit or move away. Earned a full ride at UW. Shall we head inside? I’m famished.”

We were seated at our usual table beside the window. Only after we’d ordered did I dare a look across the street. The name on the building Natalie had entered readJoyspringWellnessCenter.

Dad laughed, snapping me back to attention.

“What’s funny?” I asked.

“Natalie King.” He held my gaze, head bobbing, waiting for me to get the joke.

I didn’t. “And?”

“Cole.” He lifted his hands to the sky, like the answer was obvious. “Nat King Cole.”

“Jeez, Dad. Really?”

“You know, your grandparents were huge Nat King Cole fans. Dad had all his albums. He used to dance your grandma around the kitchen, singing all those oldies to her.”

The weight on my chest lightened. “He used to sing to me and Cadence, too. All the damn time.”

Dad laughed, highlighting his wrinkles. “He was the only one could get you to sleep sometimes. You’d cry until you were purple-faced. Your gramps would come over, take you out of your mama’s arms, shut himself in the bedroom with you, and start crooning. You’d be out cold in no time.” His eyes shimmered. “God, I miss him.”

“Me, too, Dad. Me, too.”

I stood outside the bank, feeling every bit the jackass, but determined to right my wrong.

At five thirty-five, a scrawny security guard escorted Natalie though the door. Her smile fell from her face when she saw me, that disappointment a sledgehammer to my chest.

She turned to her friend and said, “See you tomorrow, Tim,” then came my way.

Though we stood mere feet apart, miles of wrong separated us. Her red-rimmed glasses matched her floral blouse and red wool coat. God damn, the woman must have stock in an eyewear company.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, staring at my chest.

Black slacks covered her legs, thank God. Made focusing on the task at hand easier. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“Okay.” She moved past and headed toward the intersection. “Apology accepted.”

I followed a pace behind. “I was rude and insensitive.”

“No,” she said over her shoulder, her steps hurried. “Just honest. I like that about you.”

I reached for her, then reconsidered. That should’ve been the end of our convo. I apologized; she forgave. But my conscience wasn’t eased, so I asked, “Can I walk you home?”

“Sure. On one condition.” She reached the street corner and pounded the crosswalk button.

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