Page 60 of Lost Love on 6th Street

He gives me a thumbs up, which is good enough for me. I slip out of the venue and onto 6th. There’s a stream of people walking the streets as per usual under the smeary twilight sky. The sky reminds me of Eleanor. We met under a sky just like this not that long ago. Feels a lot longer, though, the way she’s rooted herself inside me.

I pull out my phone as I walk to pick up my coffee and open my text exchange with Eleanor.

We haven’t spoken today. The last messages sent were that I was outside her apartment, and she was coming down to meet me.

I should have texted her first thing this morning, but I couldn’t find the right thing to say. At first, I was going to say, “good morning” with a little smiling emoji, but I waited too long. So I thought I’d tell her she left her hat in my car, but that didn’t feel quite romantic enough. As I vacillated on what to say, time ticked by and now it’s nighttime.

It should be simple. Just ask her out on a date. Easy. I’ve done that plenty of times before.

Except I’ve never asked Eleanor out and that’s a whole other can of worms.

She hasn’t texted me either, to be fair, but that’s not a good excuse at all. I might be as modern-minded as they come in Austin, but I still like some things traditional. I should ask her out, plan the date, pay for it, and take the fucking lead.

I’m stunted. Remembering the sheen of her eyes as she told me her fears fireside.

I replay the conversation in my head as I stand in line. How her ex betrayed her. How scared she is to trust.

It’s apples and oranges what he did and what I did. Right?

That’s the question that has me going in circles. Should I tell her now? Give her all the information so she can make an informed decision about me? Or do I keep it close to my chest and hope that enough time passes that it’s a story we can laugh about in the future?

The truth will eat at me any time she brings up Diane. I know she won’t be leaving our conversations any time soon, especially if Eleanor’s able to cobble something together for the exhibit at Reeder.

And I . . . can’t get Diane out of my head either. If my dad was alive, I’d have no qualms asking about where Aunt Diane went. Why we never talk about her. But I can’t ask Mom. Talking about the past is too hard for her right now.

I order two red eyes for Randy and me and head back to the Lonesome Rose, somewhat in a daze while my thoughts cloud together.

Wanting Eleanor. Wondering if I’m as good for her as I’ve felt. Not wanting to hurt her or be hurt. Because while I’ve had my fair share of flings I walked away from, I’ve never been this head over heels for someone.

I focus on the head of the woman walking in front of me. Curly hair, loose-fitting dress.

I’ve seen that dress and that hair before.

She stops and steps out of the way of oncoming traffic, reaches into the slouchy bag at her side. Produces a camera.

No fucking way.

I walk up beside her, subtly peering at her face. “Nor?”

Eleanor’s head jerks away from the viewfinder of her camera. She pulls her glasses back down over her eyes and blinks at me. A ginormous smile appears on her face. “Oh, hey!”

“What are you doing out here?” I ask.

“Well, I . . .” she flushes. “I actually came out here to see you.”

I arch my eyebrows. “Oh?”

“I mean, that’s what I was doing. Until I got to the Lonesome Rose and realized it would be creepy of me to show up where you were working when you only mentioned offhandedly to me where you’d be tonight, like, two weeks ago.”

I tighten my lips, suppressing a smile. It’d be creepy if it were anyone else. Not when it’s the exact woman I want to see though.

“So, I thought I’d spend some time taking some pictures. Didn’t want to waste a trip out here.”

“You should have texted me. I would have come out to see you.”

Eleanor narrows her eyes. “Yeah, you could have texted me too.”

I gulp down my nerves. “I . . .”

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