“Why are you always so surprised to see me?” I asked, genuinely curious to hear her answer. Her expression didn’t change, which told me she was still annoyed with me—not that I could understand her reasoning. Her leg had been hurt, so I’d helped her, end of story. Why did it matter what other people she’d probably never see again in her life or even remember if she saw them thought? I’d always been under the impression that women found it romantic when guys carried them. Apparently not this one.
“I’m not surprised anymore.” She looked over her shoulder when one of the customers let out a loud laugh then turned back to me. “Can I—”
“Were you expecting to see me tonight?” I asked, again, just out of curiosity. I leaned forward and put my phone on the table.
She licked her lips, looking toward the kitchen. I followed her gaze and saw the girl she had introduced me to before—Sally, I believed—leaning against the doorframe and talking to someone in the kitchen, most likely the other employee, the guy. My eyes back on Rose, I waited to hear her reply.
“I was. You always come,” she said, shrugging as if it was a given that I’d be there. I supposed it was now.
“Will you join me, please?”
She eyed the seat across from me but didn’t sit down. “Can I get you anything before I do that? Coffee? Tea?”
“I wouldn’t say no to coffee if you’re the one preparing it.”
She looked a little surprised then nodded and walked away, slowly. She wasn’t limping exactly, so she was probably right that it hadn’t been a serious injury, but she wasn’t walking smoothly either. Point being, her ankle was hurting. I still didn’t understand the fuss when I had only tried to help her.
Instead of getting back on my phone and finishing the response I had started, I watched her prepare coffee for both of us, discreetly glancing my way every now and then. A few minutes later, she came back with a small tray and put it on the table before sitting down across from me. Reaching forward, she put one of the mugs in front of me and held on to the other one. Between us sat a plate full of lemon bars.
I gave her a questioning look, but she was busy drinking from her mug, her eyes cast downward.
“No work today?” she asked into her coffee mug.
“I need to get back soon.”
She nodded and we fell silent.
“So, we’re not talking then,” I concluded. “I’m not planning on apologizing for trying to help you, if that’s what you’re waiting for me to do.”
“No, you’re not the kind of person who apologizes, are you?” she asked, lifting her big brown eyes up to mine. “Do you ever apologize? For anything?”
“I try not to do anything I’ll end up having to apologize for,” I answered honestly. Try was the operative word here.
She sighed and took another long sip of her coffee. “I’m not angry at you for helping me. I would’ve preferred to walk on my own, but I’m not gonna stay angry at you for carrying me. I was a little annoyed by your last comment, that’s all. Still, I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
A little amused, I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. “Excuse me? I couldn’t hear what you said to your coffee.”
“I said—” she looked up and met my eyes. “You heard that.”
Why did I enjoy provoking her?
Why did I enjoy when she snapped back at me?
“For what?” I asked, reaching for my own coffee.
Another long sigh. “For slamming the door in your face and leaving you out there. It was immature, but in my defense you know exactly which buttons to push.”
I couldn’t exactly argue with that. “Okay. Now will you tell me which of my comments made you annoyed with me?”
“It’s not important.”
“It is to me.”
We looked at each other for a while.
“I said I’m not some women and you said, you’re telling me.”
Hiding my smile behind the mug, I kept my eyes on her, and she chose to look anywhere but me. She appeared to be both annoyed and surly at the same time, and defiant, of course—definitely not someone who was regretting slamming the door in my face.
“I meant that as a compliment, Rose.”
Her eyes came back to me.
“I…Good. That’s great then. Thank you?”
“How’s your ankle?” I asked, letting her off the hook.
“It’s better. It didn’t swell up, but I’m still taking it easy.”
At least the stiffness in her shoulders had softened a bit.
“How are we? Are we good as well?”
Her smile was as sweet as it could get.
“Yes, Jack.”
“You made lemon bars again,” I commented in the hopes of changing the conversation to safer ground when I felt myself drawn to her even more.
She shifted in her seat. “Actually, that was why I was coming in early. I promised you I’d make more of them yesterday, bring a batch back to the apartment maybe, because I like them too. I thought I’d get them done before opening up.”
“You made them for me?”
“I promised.” She shrugged and pushed her hands under her legs. “And I thought it would be a good apology for slamming the door in your face.”
I raised an eyebrow and took another sip of my coffee before reaching for one of the bars. Taking a bite, I watched her watching me.
Feeling eyes on me, I looked over Rose’s shoulder, saw Sally keeping an eye on us from her spot with interest, and missed the end of Rose’s sentence. I doubted we looked like a real couple from where she was standing, let alone a married one.
Maybe we should do something to fix that.
My focus shifted back to Rose.
“So we had our first married fight, huh? How do you feel about that?”
“The honeymoon stage is over for us, I’m afraid,” I agreed offhandedly.
She nodded. “We made quick work of that. I don’t see good things for the future of our marriage.”
“You never know. Maybe we’re one of those married couples who fight at the drop of a hat but never get a divorce. You might be stuck with me.”
“Oh, that sounds exhausting, and annoying for other people. Let’s not be like them. Let’s find better examples and try to imitate them.”
“Like who?”
Her gaze slid up to the ceiling as she tried to come up with an example. “Actually, I don’t think I know that many married couples. You?”
“I’m afraid the ones I know aren’t people I’d like to imitate,” I answered.
“Evelyn and Fred?”
“They are more like partners than anything else.”
“Oh, from the way Fred talked about her that night, I assumed they were in love.”
“They do love each other, but I think if they didn’t have a kid, they wouldn’t have much in common other than work.”
“Your parents? How about them? Are they still married? Do they have a happy marriage?”
After drinking almost half of the coffee, I put it down and leaned back. “The last people you’d like to imitate, trust me. Just look at how I turned out.”
“I don’t know. I think they did a pretty good job with you. Then how about we don’t imitate anyone and just make our own rules?”