“I’m good,” Sean said, his eyes uncontrollably drawn to the woman across the room.
The women had a second order of frothy coffees. There was a lot more laughing, talking, rummaging through the gifts, and they were oblivious to anything else happening in that bar. They certainly weren’t trolling for guys. They never even glanced toward the bar.
If she looked his way, even once, he’d have to think of something clever to say. He’d have to smile, walk confidently across the room to their table, say hello and get friendly. He’d have to make them laugh and like him, because he couldn’t let her get out of here without finding out where she lived. She might be visiting one of those women, which meant that after she left, she’d be totally gone again. He couldn’t let that happen. He needed to see her, talk to her. Touch her. Hold her.
“Why don’t you go over there? Say hello?” the bartender asked.
He looked up at his new friend. “Yeah…well…The last time we talked, I wasn’t her favorite person.”
The bartender laughed. “Hard to imagine,” he said.
Sean had been staring at that table of women for a long time and the bartender was probably watching that, in case he turned out to be some kind of pervert. Sean turned on the charm; he cheered up real fast so he didn’t look so intense. “Hey, I should settle up and get going, even if the scenery in here is incredible.” He put some money on the bar, including a nice tip, and left without finishing his drink. He walked out with his head down, trying not to attract any attention.
It was colder than usual on the coast this October night. He wandered across the street, where he could keep an eye on the front door. He hoped they quit the bar before he froze to death. It made him sick to think she might get away from him.
He made up his mind and it took him less than fifteen seconds to decide—he really needed to see if he could get things straightened out with Franci. They should be together. He just hoped she would see it that way.
He actually said a prayer. There had to be a patron saint to ignorant, immature playboys, right? Saint Hugh? Saint Don Juan? Whomever…give me a break here and I’ll change my ways. I swear. I won’t be overconfident; I’ll be sensitive. We’ll negotiate and get back to what we had before…And then it happened. The four women came out the front door of the restaurant, one of them toting her presents. They lingered, laughed some more, hugged and then they went their separate ways. Two went left, two went right. At the end of the block, Franci and her friend went in opposite directions, and Sean, feeling as if this was the one chance in his lifetime, hotfooted it after her.
He had just about caught up to her when she was unlocking the door of a small silver sedan. “Franci?” he called out.
She jumped, turned and stared at him, wide-eyed.
“It is you,” he said, taking a few steps nearer to her. “Your hair—wow. Threw me off for a minute.”
She looked almost frightened at first. But then she seemed to compose herself, though she shivered from the cold and pulled her coat tighter around her. “Sean?”
“Yeah,” he said, laughing. “I can’t believe I’m running into you here, of all places.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked, not looking thrilled to see him.
“Remember Luke? Remember, I told you we bought some old cabins together a long time ago? Long before I met you. Well, he got out of the army and came up here to work on ’em.”
“Here?” she asked, aghast. She pulled her coat tighter. “Those cabins are here?”
“Back in the mountains, along the Virgin River,” he said. “I was just burning some leave, visiting him. I came over here for dinner.”
She looked around. “Where’s Luke?” she asked. “Is he with you?”
“No.” He laughed. “Married. Recently married. I try to get out of their hair in the evening because they…” He stopped and laughed silently, shaking his head. Then he looked at her face. “You look great. How long have you been here? In Arcata?”
“I, ah, I don’t actually live in Arcata. I was just meeting some friends for dinner. Everything all right with you? With your family?”
“Everyone is good,” he said. He took another step toward her. “Franci, let me buy you a cup of coffee. Let’s catch up a little.”
“Ah…No, I don’t think so, Sean,” she said, shaking her head. “I’d better get—”
“I looked for you,” he said impulsively. “To say it was a mistake, the way we broke up. We should talk. There might be things we can work out that we were both too stubborn to—”
“Listen, don’t even go there, Sean. It’s all in the past. No hard feelings,” she said. “So good luck and good—”
“Are you married or something?” he asked.
She was startled. “No. But I’m not looking to go back to the discussion that ended us. Maybe you were able to just blow it off, but I—”
“I didn’t blow it off, Franci,” he said. “I looked for you and couldn’t find you anywhere. That’s why I want to talk.”
“Well, I don’t,” she said. She opened her car door. “I think you’ve probably said enough on that subject.”
“Franci, what the fuck?” he asked, confused and a little angry by her immediate rebuff. “God, can’t we have a conversation? We were together for two years! It was good, me and you. We never had anyone else, either one of us, and—”
“And you said it wasn’t going any further.” She stiffened her back. “In fact, that was one of the nicer things you said. I’m glad you’re doing fine—you look just the same, happy as can be. Say hello to your mother and brothers. And really, don’t push this. We decided. We’re over.”
“Come on. I don’t believe you mean that,” he said.
“Believe it,” she shot back. “You made a decision—you didn’t want a commitment to me. And here you are—you don’t have one. Bye. Take care.”
She got in her car and slammed the door. He took two giant steps forward and heard the door locks click into place. She backed out of her parking space quickly and drove away. He memorized the license number, but the most important thing he noticed was that it was a California plate. She might not live in Arcata, but she lived close enough to drive over for dinner.
Now that he’d seen her, he knew what he’d long suspected. He was far from over her.
Franci’s hands trembled so much, she found it hard to drive. She always knew there was a chance she would bump into him someday, though she carefully avoided the most obvious places where that could happen. But she had never, never expected him to want to talk about it, to talk about them!
And when she thought of the months she had prayed for that talk to happen, it caused her vision to blur with gathering tears. Angry tears! She pursed her lips and thought, No! She’d cried enough over him; he wouldn’t get the benefit of one more tear.
