Page 14 of Pete and His Precious

Just then, Verity’s phone buzzes.

“Oh goodness, this is my mother. Do you mind?”

“No. You go on, I’ll text you if it turns out that I don’t feel safe.”

“All right,” she says, giving me a worried glance, before looking even more worriedly at her phone. Her mother can be draconian.

But, at least her mother cares. There’s that. Which is really nice. There are so many people who have parents who don’t really seem to give a flip, who are relieved to get them out of the house, and out on their own.

My parents fall somewhere in the middle, I suppose. We still have regular Sunday dinners, but I think that’s more because mom likes to catch up on the gossip of our lives, than because she truly cares about us. But I could be wrong. I’ve never been a parent, and I’m not entirely convinced that I would make a good one. So, there’s that.

I see the rose lying on the table, but there’s someone standing looking up at the specials board, and I can’t quite see the man.

I’m going to have to walk in.

It’s crowded, and it’s the kind of restaurant where you have the menu on boards above the counter, some specials written on whiteboards alongside, and you go up to a counter to order. They give you a number, you sit at your table and they bring the food to you. You take care of your own garbage, and someone goes around and occasionally wipes the tables.

I’ve never felt like it’s very sanitary, but the food here is so worth it.

Still, there are so many people milling around that I can’t get a good look at the guy. If it’s an old man, I’ll probably go eat withhim anyway, but...it depends on how he looks and what kind of feeling he gives me.

I know we can’t live by our feelings, but there is a difference between happiness and sadness and your gut intuition. Usually my gut is spot on, and I’m going to give my gut the benefit of the doubt, since I’m not exactly desperate to be dating. I’m not a catch right now anyway. I am barely scraping by, and I’m one month away from having to move back in with my mother. If I were dating a man like me, I would not be the slightest bit interested in continuing our relationship.

I’m totally okay with kids living with their parents. I know that’s not something that is acceptable in today’s society, but I kind of think it might be biblical. Regardless, there’s a big difference between wanting to and needing to and not having a choice.

I won’t have a choice, soon. I didn’t even bring my wallet with me today. He asked me out, so he better be thinking that he is going to pay. I have my phone, and that’s it. Even if I did have my wallet, it’s not like I have any money in any of my accounts. Once I get this book finished, I should get a payment for that, but that is going to have to go toward paying the rent. If I have anything left over, I’ll buy food. Those are my priorities.

I’ve moved to within fifteen feet of the table and slid around to the side, all the while trying to get a good bead on the dude.

I’m thinking about moving even closer, when the crowd shifts, and I’m able to get a good look at him. I’m able to do this, because he turns and stares straight at me.

It’s the police officer from the animal-rights rally. The one who grabs my...well, you know, then let go of it like it was a hot poker.

It wasn’t exactly complementary, not that I care, and not that I’m upset about that, because I’m not. It’s just...the whole thing is embarrassing. I thought I saw him at the library on Mondayand figured I wouldn’t have to worry about seeing him again for a very long time. Considering that we live in the same small town, I’ve gotten very good at avoiding him. Something tells me that he does the same with me.

But that’s not the most interesting thing about this.

Animal-rights police dude is... My neighbor.

And my date.

Except... He doesn’t know that I’m his his date. I know that, because his eyes get big, and then he narrows them, like he’s wondering what in the world I’m doing there. He doesn’t have any more love for me than I have for him. Obviously.

Immediately my eyes go to the board. I start looking at it, like I’m there to order food.

Except I have no way to pay for the food, and I’m definitely not going to order any.

This has gotten extremely awkward. I stumble a bit as someone bumps me from behind and says, “Aren’t you moving up lady?”

“Sorry,” I murmur, not wanting to bring any more attention to me, but unintentionally doing exactly what I didn’t want to do.

A quick glance at police officer animal-rights dude shows that he is watching.

My eyes drop to the rose on his table, before they skitter away, back to the board.

I need to get out of here, but the crowd behind me pushes me forward, and suddenly, I’m standing in front of the counter.

I have no money.

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