Page 3 of The Things That Hold Us

Our eyes meet again, but this time I can't look away. My eyes are locked on his. I can feel the tension building between us the longer we keep our connection.

What the actual heck is happening here?

I clear my throat, and force myself to look away. From the corner of my eye, I see his arm come up and rub the back of his neck again, “Right, well, thanks again…” he trails off as if he’s waiting for something.

OH.

“Charlie!” I blurt out embarrassingly, “ I’m Charlie.”

“Ah, Charlie of ‘Charlie's Antiques’. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Logan.” he says, then adds, “Have a good rest of your day, Charlie.”

Then he's gone.

And I’m left utterly confused about what just happened.

I finish closing up the shop, making sure I actually turn my open sign to close so I don’t have any more surprise visitors, grab my bags, and start walking to my apartment. I live in asmall town, so walking to and from places has never been a big deal to me.

I stop at my favorite chinese place, and grab some food to take home. I’ve never been one to cook, and eating out is a really bad habit I am trying to break.

But not tonight.

Finally home, I unlock the front door, set all my stuff down inside, and make my way to the fridge. I pour myself a hefty glass of wine and sit down on my couch. Setting my food down on the end table, I pull my phone out from my back pocket and see I have three missed calls and two texts from my mom.

I sigh. I’m not at all surprised.

I love her, don’t get me wrong, but she's been a little overbearing since everything happened. She calls me every day at the same time when I get off work, to check on me. And I completely spaced and didn’t send her a text letting her know I stayed later.

Hitting the call back button, I take a sip of my wine, letting the cool liquid slide down my throat and wash awaysomeof my nerves.

“Hello?” my mother answers, her voice way too chipper like always.

“Hi mom, sorry, I was busy at work and just got home.”

“This late? It’s 6:30, aren’t you usually home by 5:30?” she asks.

“Yeah, I had a customer come in after closing looking for a gift, and just stayed open a little longer for him, then after that I grabbed dinner. Is everything ok? You called me three times.” I laugh.

“Yes, everything is fine. I was just calling to check in. I began to worry when you didn't answer.”

“I’m fine, mom, I promise. The day just went a little longer, that's all.”

She pauses, “Ok. I just worry about you all by yourself out there and always walking everywhere. I wish you'd let me help you buy a car.”

“Mom, I told you, I am perfectly fine with walking. I’m fine by myself. Besides, I have neighbors, remember? I’m not entirely alone.”

I wince at the words after they leave my mouth. I’ve been alone for a year now, and not a day goes by where I don't feel empty.

“Well,” she pauses, “if you do decide to change your mind, you know you can always call and tell me.”

“Thanks mom, I’ll keep that in mind. I just sat down to eat, but wanted to call you back first.”

“Ok honey. Call me tomorrow, I love you.”

“Love you too mom.”

I hang up, toss my phone to the other end of the couch and grab my food. I take a bite of my orange chicken and let my eyesclose in bliss as the tangy flavor bursts in my mouth. It feels so good to finally get the chance to eat.

I look around my sad, empty apartment, trying not to dwell on the fact that I really am all alone here. Maybe I should get a cat?

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