Page 32 of Waiting for Gilbert

I know how this looks, but there was a box labeled: “Yummy coffee, unpack first.” Therefore, I obliged. I’m pleased she slept through the morning. Hopefully she’s recovered from last night.

John pokes his elbow into my side. “Elves, you say?”

“Apparently.” I angle the putty knife and the white slop oozes the other way.

Her shoulders rise to her ears as she tunnels her hands into her coat pockets. She looks like she’s trying to shrink into her plum coat.

I’m kicking myself for talking about her with John. It wasn’t bad… was it? I try to remember exactly what I said. That I didn’t know her? Wasn’t interested? John could have her? Oh, perfect. Let’s barter over the new girl on the market.

Whatever it was, it’s enough to make her uncomfortable.

“Listen—” I start.

“John, will you—” she says.

We both stop. This is awkward. It shouldn’t be. But it is.

It’s not that I’muninterested. Let the record state that I do not dislike my new tenant.

How would I feel if I overheard a girl tell her friend that she didn’t want to go out with me? Dating her isn’t the problem. I’m not dating anyone! If I were, she’d be a great option. But if I’m not dating, then of course I’m not datingher.

Crud. Why are the three of us standing around like middle schoolers who suddenly can’t talk to their friends because they’ve just learned how babies are made?

She smiles at John and relaxes her posture. “I know I overheard a conversation that wasn’t meant for me.”

Wow, she just goes for it. I’m in awe. Good for her. The confidence of this woman astounds me.

“Would you like to grab dinner with me tonight? It’s—” She pulls out her phone and checks the time. “—almost four.”

“No!” John zips his coat and pats his pockets, probably checking for his phone and wallet. “Sorry, yes! That’d be great. I would love to. I have to get back to work, but I could pick you up at seven fifteen? Is that too late?”

Yes, it’s too late. She meant for you to take her out now for an early supper. She was awake all night long—with me, but that’s irrelevant—and needs to go to bed early.

Her shoulders rise and fall with a happy sigh.

I raise my eyebrows at the odd feeling her joviality is forced.

“I’m happy to meet you somewhere,” she says through a smile. “Is there a place in town we could go? I don’t feel like staying up late tonight.”

See? Told you.

John makes a face like he’s smelled something gross. “Subway or gas-station pizza. You know what? I’ll grab a few things and we can eat at my place. If you want.”

Super romantic. TV dinners for two? It’s every girl’s dream date!

Woah. Buddy.I take an actual step backward in reaction to my thoughts.You’re not involved with her, remember? So you don’t care.

“Oh! Well in that case, why don’t you let me cook?” She tucks an escaped curl into her hat. “Come over when you’re off work.”

We’re all standing in my construction zone of a bedroom in the same positions we held when this conversation started. Have I mentioned the super awkward tension? It’s so thick I want to swipe my putty knife through it.

“Cool.” She backs into the hallway.

John moves across my room. “Awesome.” We exchange friendly but stilted good-byes and they leave together.

“Cool…” I speak to an empty room. Why do I feel like I’ve royally bungled a chance of a lifetime?

14

---