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Living the Life of Holly
By Holly Winter
© 2005
On Holly-Schedule

Nah. Brown-eyes wouldn’t be there. Why would a man I had met twice in a coffee shop happen to be sipping coffee again tonight?

I approached the coffee shop slowly, looking for a man in a leather jacket. Saturday night. Seven o’clock.

He stood when he saw me. “You’re right on time.”

I laughed. “Oh, good. You’re not going to hold the last six weeks against me?”

His eyes danced. “I knew I’d been waiting a while.” He held the door and followed me up to the counter where he ordered two hot ciders.

“Um. Just hot water for me.”

“Of course,” He nodded. “Whatever you want.” He dropped two dollars into the tip jar and carried our drinks over to a table.

I had no way to tell Brown-eyes that Cool-guy and I had rekindled our relationship for a few weeks. Surely he’d guessed? I had refused to take the phone number or e-mail address of this new man, insisting we could bump into each other at the coffee shop on a Saturday night if the time were right for both of us. There was no way I was going to come to explain things when Cool-guy and I were hanging out again.

Sitting back in my chair I watched his face turn from surprise to playfulness. Was there a touch of pain in there?

“I thought you’d be all tan,” he murmured into his cider.

“Why?”

“Well. I figured he got you a one month trip to Cuba for Christmas. Isn’t that the next place you want to visit?”

Man. Who wouldn’t like this man? He is a master of being direct in the most indirect way. I laughed. “No. I didn’t travel. We stayed here.”

“So.” He looked at his feet. “Is he going to take you to Cuba next summer, then?”

I let out a sigh. “No. We’re done traveling. And we’re done dating, too.” I sighed again. “We’re done.”

He looked at me. “How’d he talk you into spending six weeks with him?”

I sipped my water. It scalded my tongue. Um. Was it legal to serve such hot water to unsuspecting patrons? “It wasn’t that hard.” I bit my lip. “He was sure we needed to be together.” I looked out the window. “And it was really good to see him.”

“Oh.” He nodded. “The make-up sex.”

I laughed. “Actually he made me some my favorite soup.” I looked up. “That’s good stuff, that butternut squash soup. Nobody can say ‘no’ to it. It’s amazing.”

He laughed with me. “Must be.”

I put my water down. “Brown-eyes. I’m feeling a little beat up right now, and I just came to tell you that I’m not looking for another chef.”

He shrugged. “Lucky for you I’m not a…”

“Figuratively speaking.”

He nodded.

“Sorry. But. I don’t feel like dressing up or wearing make-up. Not right now. I don’t feel like dating.”

“Good.” He brightened. “We’ll be hot-water-drinking friends.”

“I don’t want…”

“Holly.” He drew his chair closer. “Come on. Lighten up. I like you. I want to see you again. If you don’t want to wear make-up you can wear a bag over your head, I don’t care. What’s the big deal?”

I handed him my e-mail address as I stood up to leave. “Why don’t you give me a few weeks to untangle my mind? You can e-mail me then if you want to.”

“Wait.” He demanded, standing up. “What are you looking for? Why won’t you give me a chance? What you want might be standing right here.” He raised his voice. “What are you looking for?”

Oh. Man. How had this gotten so serious? I knew he was coming here every week, waiting for me. And I did like him. But. I wasn’t ready to have to answer any big questions. I was on a Holly-schedule now and my needs took precedence.

I kissed his cheek. “Time. What I’m looking for right now is time. If you could grant me that, I’d be really grateful.”

Before he could respond I grabbed my coat and left quickly, zigzagging my way up and down city streets till I got home, where I could be all alone.

Wanna try another column? How about #211 My Invisible Disability Peeks Out, which is about my lack of visual memory slowing me down in the classroom.

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