Sugar Pie by Victoria Pinder
10
Kerry
Warren had seemed desperate to leave the thrift store. He seemed personally offended that I’d used the small amount of money I had to get seven shirts and four pairs of pants. I’d needed clothes, though, and seven shirts meant I had a new shirt for every day of the week and would only need to do laundry once.
Thrifting to me was like diving into the unknown to unlock unique items that no one else might ever find. Granted, I’d never mentioned the adventures to my parents or Romeo. Warren might have been different, but he clearly thought new was best, as my mother had always said.
Either way, I stayed under twenty-five dollars, minus the shirt he’d bought me.
We headed to Walmart, and I grabbed a bag of underwear with ten cotton bikinis so I would never have to hand-wring cleanliness.
As we left the second store, I patted his back and said, “Thank you for taking me. I can’t wait to do laundry now.”
He opened the door for me and said, “Sounds like a plan. I was thinking we could go horseback riding.”
A fun evening with Warren sounded exciting, and my heart skipped a beat. For a second, I imagined racing him, laughing, and then kissing. As he opened his door and scooted in, I pressed my hand to my belly. “Sounds fun, but I’m hungry, to be honest. I worked all morning and now shopping.”
He nodded. “Me too. Let’s go out to dinner. My treat.”
For a second, I cringed. I wasn’t his to take care of, but my new money was from our deal.
However, a night out sounded nice, and we could make the tacos the next day. So I put my seat belt on and said, “That sounds like fun. We can celebrate how working together is good for both of us.”
He drove across the lot to an Italian restaurant. He parked and said, “You’re helping me out.”
We headed inside, and a hostess showed us to a table.
He was polite with every staff person he saw and not pretentious at all.
I hoped he would never change. We ordered, and I picked the chicken parmesan. I normally didn’t fry my food, so it was a treat. Once we were alone, I folded my hands on the table and said, “We’ll consider this a business meeting.”
“Not everything is about work.”
The gleam in his gaze made me ache for his touch. “Okay, friendship.”
He winked. “To new beginnings.”
I leaned close as if sharing a secret, ignoring the thrill that raced through me from his nearness. “I have to say I do enjoy cooking, though. It’s been the only constant in my life where I feel in control.”
“And I like eating what you offer.”
Flirting was bad for business for both of us. I pursed my lips. “Still, we shouldn’t indulge when we’re on a budget.”
He blinked but then leaned on the table. “We can celebrate where someone else takes care of us while we talk.”
My lips curved higher, and I raised my hand to give a scout’s honor. “I’m not complaining.”
He took a deep breath as if he’d been holding it. “Good. So what do you like about cooking so much?”
The waitress returned with our meals, but my heart beat faster. I wasn’t sure anyone had ever asked me. And it was strange because Warren shouldn’t have been the one full of manners and breeding.
Once we were alone, he said, “Go on.”
I picked up my fork and checked that the meat was tender. “Well, I found in school that it was easier to make friends if I could offer people cupcakes and brownies. From there, I realized my parents even spoke to me with more kindness and less criticizing if they enjoyed a meal I made.”
We ate in silence. I felt sensitive all over, as if I was covered in goose bumps. I wasn’t sure I’d ever spoken like that to anyone. As we finished, he said almost in a whisper, “That must have been very lonely.”
The intimacy shocked me. I hugged my waist and said, “It wasn’t all that bad. I had a lot of time to study.”
The waitress brought the check, and he put cash on the table. We stood together and he said, “It’s hard to imagine a quiet childhood. My family talked all the time.”
His proximity to me made my legs feel like spaghetti for a second. I’d always wanted to be like him. “You were lucky.”
He placed his hand on my back as if he would protect me from life, which was so tempting to consider. “I really was.”
As we headed out, my mind raced. I ached for him to kiss and hold me and never let go. Deep down, though, I knew it was a bad idea. I had a sense that the feeling of wanting him might grow, and I feared that I would want to be near him forever.
My face heated as we neared the truck. “So how come you’re so nice?”
He held my door for me. “I don’t remember a lot about my birth parents, but I do remember my dad telling me that I should always try to walk through life in someone else’s shoes. He said, ‘life isn’t easy, son, so if you can make it better for a fellow traveler, you should.’ I try to remember that when I’m having a discussion or disagreement. It’s less about right and wrong and more about point of view. Seeing how the other person views the question can be illuminating.”
My heart melted a little as he closed my door. I watched him walk around the front of the truck, marveling at the man. Once he got inside, I said, “Empathy is a good quality.”
He started the truck to head home. We weren’t far from our apartment. “Good. I’m glad we’re getting to know each other.”
I glanced out the window and wished I had my feelings under control. I wasn’t normally so emotional. “Maybe we should be careful about the ‘getting to know each other.’ Work might be easier if you and I keep a little distance.”
“I don’t want that.”
Me neither.Not that I would ever say that out loud. It was too dangerous. I pivoted and studied him. His words were full of trust and hope.
I glanced down at my feet as we turned in to the parking lot. “You don’t have to save me. I’d have figured out a lawyer and a job on my own.”
He turned off the engine and then placed his hand on mine. “When I went to Mrs. Morris’s house to hang her chandelier, I wasn’t looking for you or anyone to save. It’s not my habit. I just knew I liked you right away.”
Sparks rushed through me. My lips tingled, but I would never let myself kiss him. I blinked. “We can’t be more than friends.”
He didn’t move. “Understood.”
I took my hand away and quickly cupped his face. The afternoon shadow sent thrills through me, but I didn’t move. “Good, because I like you too.” Then I let him go and hopped out of the car.
My words had to be true. We could only ever be friends. It was all I had to offer.
