Page 7 of Grounds for Love

I do. I had already decided that on my own. “She makes me anxious. I’ve only seen her from a distance when she takes the ferry and that’s enough to get my cock twitching. I haven’t done that since Betsy Barber let me get to second base behind the bleachers at the middle school. I didn’t mean to be impolite to Jennifer. She took me by surprise and was suddenly … there. Right in front of my face. I just snapped,” I admit and turn to my older and hopefully wiser brother for guidance because I’ve got nothing.

Blake puts his arm around my shoulders and slaps my back. “Rod, you my man, are smitten. I didn’t know if I would live to see the day. You shut down that part of your life when Grace died and I didn’t say anything other than make excuses around town when folks complained about you. You owe it to yourself and to Grace, to be content in your life and we both know you haven’t been. You’ve been existing. When Grace was diagnosed you left New York and the billionaire lifestyle behind and moved back home. This is your home. This is where you belong. You’re still a young man who has a lot of life ahead that could be filled with love and the comfort of a good woman’s arms. Unless you are too chicken shit to go for it.”

With those parting words, Blake leaves me literally standing with my mouth open and too much to process.

I’m cautious to keep my distance from Jennifer for the rest of the evening. When the food is ready, I make sure to sit at a picnic table on the opposite side of the yard.

Afterwards, everyone is sitting or standing in groups and talking. Bode pulls out his guitar and sits around the fire pit with a younger crowd, singing. Blake and Hannah are playing cornhole with a new-to-the-island couple I’ve yet to meet.

I toss my beer bottle in the recycling bin and unconsciously search for her. I don’t see her at first, but then I catch a glimpse of her walking down the pathway to the beach. I’d like to say it was a hard decision to make, but my feet are already in action following behind her.

At water’s edge, I catch up to her. She looks up and, even in the moonlight, I can tell she’s surprised to see me. Then she looks away and starts walking down the beach. I admit that I deserve her snub.

I jog to catch up. “Hey, Jennifer, wait up.”

She flips her head around and calls over her shoulder, “Why? So you can tell me to fuck off again? I got the message the first time.”

I’m tempted to correct her that those weren’t my exact words, but they had been implied. I might be an asshole, but I’d never swear at a lady.

Her pace quickens, but my legs are much longer than hers and it’s no trouble at all to keep up.

“Listen, I’d like to apologize for the other day,” I say, cutting right to the chase because I have no idea how much time she’ll allow me.

Her steps slow and I hope that’s a good sign. She could be getting ready to kick me in the balls. Again, I deserve it. “I acted badly and I shouldn’t have said the things I did.”

She stops and tilts her head towards me. “Why did you?”

Her face bathed in moonlight is incredible. She licks her lips and my gaze narrows. Once again I have those feelings. “I’m not very good at social graces. I used to be, but not anymore. I’ve never regretted my moods until I lashed out at you. It was very kind of you to bring the crew coffee. I should have said that instead of what I did say.”

Her eyes bore into mine as she searches for any signs of untruth. I told her as much as I could. One side of her lips curl. “I’ve heard that. Most everyone around town has warned me that you bite even when not provoked. I didn’t believe them until I experienced “Moody Rod Murphy” for myself. You must lead a very depressing life.”

A shot of anger zips through my body, but just as quickly extinguishes because she’s right. My life is depressing. There isn’t anything Blake said earlier that isn’t true.

She starts to walk again and I keep pace beside her. A wave washes ashore and covers our bare feet. She grins and says, “You know, I’ve seen you on the ferry several times.”

“I know. I’ve seen you as well.” That wasn’t hard to confess.

“It’s just that… I had this crazy idea that when you looked at me, we had a moment. Was it all my imagination?”

I could deny knowing what she’s talking about, but I don’t. “It’s not crazy. I felt it.”

We walk along quietly for several easy minutes before she says, “Good.”

That wasn’t the reply I imagined. This woman mystifies me. Without words, we turn and head back towards Blake's house.

“Do you think I’m old?” I instantly wish those words hadn’t erupted from my mouth. Great way to bring attention to that fact, dumbass.

“As opposed to what? Dirt?” she replies with a chuckle.

I have no idea how to respond to that. I decide to be straightforward. “Do you think I’m too old for you? Hypothetically.” I’m smart enough to tack that last word on as a disclaimer or sorts.

“Is this a roundabout way to get me to admit that I find you attractive? Does your ego need stroking?”

I really wish she hadn’t used that word. Now I’m thinking about something I’d like her to stroke. “No. I just want to know if I have a chance. With you.”

I can’t be any clearer than that. I’m so outside my comfort zone I’m in a totally new area code.

“So you want to know if I would ever go out with someone of your doddering age? Which is…”

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