Page 12 of Collision

He would need strength and support in order to endure the coming months with his father’s illness. It now made sense why he had a sudden interest in talking to me; he knew I had experienced loss and grief, and wanted advice from someone who experienced it firsthand. I was not too sure I was the right person for the job. I could barely get up most mornings, let alone provide strength and comfort for someone else; then again, maybe we could pull each other through it all, somehow.

“Now I get why you always change the subject. Think you could use your powers of diversion for me, too?”

“I can definitely do that.” I held out my pinky. “I need you to make me a promise, right here and now.”

He raised his pinky to mine, a curious expression on his face.

“You need to promise me that you won’t hold anything back, or keep anything from me, just because you think it might make me sad. I don’t need anyone to protect my feelings. I’m a big girl – I can take it.”

He locked his pinky around mine. “I promise.”

I squeezed his pinky before letting it go. “I mean it. If I find out you’re not telling me something, I’m going to be mad… and you won’t like me when I’m mad.”

“Will you turn big and green?”

“Maybe.”

“Do all of your clothes get shredded off, too?”

“Not the point. You should be very afraid.”

“Speaking of the Hulk, that new Marvel movie coming out next week looks good.”

“I haven’t seen the trailer.”

“How could you not have? Have you been living under a rock?”

“I’ve been kind of busy lately. You know, coma and all.”

“Oh. Right,” he said sheepishly. “Well, maybe we can go see the movie when it comes out.”

My first instinct was to say no, but I caught myself before I shook my head. Shelly would never be interested in a movie like that, and I did love superhero movies. “Sure.”

“Great.”

We chewed in silence. It seemed to be our thing. We would talk until we were quiet, and then we’d let the quiet be. We were content, without the need for typical conversation filler. When the waitress came by to drop the check off, Chase stopped her with cash already in his hand before she could even place the bill on the table.

“Wait!” I scrambled for my wallet so that I could give her my portion, but she had already walked away. “How much was it? Here, I have a ten. Is that enough?”

Chase was laughing when I looked up. “I got it. Let’s go.”

“No, no. You are taking my money. I don’t need you to pay for me.”

“Put your money away. Let’s go, or I’m leaving your handicapped ass here.”

I gave him my best scowl as I put my money back into my wallet and scooted out of the booth.

“That look was actually intimidating,” he teased as we entered the parking lot. “I felt a little scared there for a second.”

“Good. Remember that look.”

When we approached his car, he intercepted the door handle to open it for me.

“I do have another arm, you know,” I reminded him, waving my good arm around. “You don’t have to keep opening doors for me.”

“I’m not opening the door for you because your arm is in a sling. Has nobody ever done this for you before?”

I said nothing as I eased myself into the seat. I was not about to get into my past love life.

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