“No projects tonight,” he added. “Just come back.”
The sound of a car going by startled me out of the moment.
“I’ve got some stuff to do the next few nights, but I’ll come back,” I said, standing up and walking backwards toward my truck. I needed time to process what he’d said. I’d never felt like that. I’d never expected someone like him to ever be interested in someone like me.
But, even though I couldn’t explain it, I really liked that he did.
“Okay, stop by when you want to,” he said and stood.
I got in my pickup and went home, my mind racing with thoughts and feelings I’d never experienced.
I didn’t know what to do with them, but I knew I needed to think.
What if I was reading too much into what he said?
What if I let myself like him and then he changed his mind?
What if he only liked me because I was the only girl he’d met in Wynne so far?
What if he was serious?
Yeah, I wanted to see her. Ever since the other night—when we almost kissed—I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the way she was looking at me. Like she wanted me too. Like if I didn’t kiss her she’d be disappointed.
It was almost too much.
I’d only been in Wynne for little over a week. Regardless of how much progress I’d—we’d—made on the house, I hadn’t been there long.
Still, I sensed I knew her. From the first night, when she shared her dinner with me—sure, that was probably pity, but I took it—to the next day when she brought me things from the store, knowing I probably hadn’t been there. To her help and fast friendship when, all joking aside, I’d really needed one. All of this.
How did she know?
Why did she think to do all of those kind things for me?
And why did it strike something so deep down inside my gut that I wasn’t sure what to do with it?
It was just about sunset when I walked out of the office. Despite it only having been my second one, it was another great day. I didn’t know if it was the beat-up, old Astro van or me, but as I pulled out of the parking lot, we were looking for her.
I drove slowly around town, seeing if I could find her truck. I rolled the stubborn window down in the off chance I could hear her loud pickup tearing down one of the side roads I wasn’t on.
When that failed, I decided I’d just ride down the road. She’d said her house was the first one you got to and that we were neighbors.
I passed my house, and no more than a mile or so down the road, the pavement turned to clay dirt gravel. As I looked in the rearview mirror, there was just enough light to see I was kicking up dust.
It was like I was in one of those country songs I’d heard over and over, and I smiled. I’d never really driven out on an old dirt road, and I can’t lie. I enjoyed it. All two hundred feet of it.
I’d enjoy it a little more if she were with me, I thought.
Wasn’t it too soon to be thinking things like that? Wasn’t it too soon to be at the beginning of a relationship when I was only a month or so out of my last?
I needed a dude friend. I’d be on the lookout for one.
Since she wasn’t in town, her house was the next best guess, as far as I knew.
The road turned into a wye and her house was around the bend to the right. Two large trees flanked a sidewalk leading to a small front porch that looked like it wasn’t used for much. The Astro and I pulled into the drive and I looked around.
Her truck wasn’t there. Outside at least.
Not seeing anybody around, I wondered if I should go up to the door and at least say hello. It was a little odd for me to just pull in. It wasn’t like there was any reason I should be out this way.
Except there was.
I wanted to see her. Find out what she was up to. Be with her.
Most of all, I wanted to figure out why I couldn’t get her off my mind.
The house sat on a large green lot. There was a garage and an old barn that had open doors on both ends. If anyone was there I didn’t want to look like a creep poking around, but I still found myself getting out of the van. The door creaked loud enough for anyone within a mile to hear.
I walked up the drive further, so I could peek into the shed. No one was in there either.
Then, around the house I saw another door, which looked much more used. There were boots lined up next to it and a faded, old rug that said, “Come on in.”
I wasn’t about to do that, but as I stood on it, I knocked.
And I waited.
And nobody came.
I honestly hadn’t planned on using it, but I was at a loss.
Earlier, going through patient files and getting familiar with how the women in the office did the paperwork, I may or may not have found a file—notably, it too said Mutt O’Fallon—and wrote her phone number down. I wasn’t familiar enough with the phone numbers around here to tell if it was a cell number, one to the shop, where she usually was during the day, or if it was to their house.